(Harry’s POV)
The next morning, I wake up to Louis curled in my arms, both of us still in our clothes. I suppose we fell asleep eventually, after just listening to each other cry. His legs are hooked with mine and one of his hands is fisted in my shirt, whereas the other is entangled in my curls. I revel in how nice it feels, pulling him impossibly closer by his hips.
He looks gorgeous. The sun is shining in through the blinds, yellow light in lines across his cheek. He has a little stubble there, and I reach out to brush along it fondly. He shifts, sighing in his sleep. God, he’s gorgeous. His eyelashes are canopies, casting shadows on his skin. His lips are parted, white teeth showing just a little. His hair is sticking up all over the place cutely, and I smirk when I realize just how much he’d hate me for thinking that.
I lean in and kiss his perfect nose, then rub mine against his in an eskimo kiss. Slowly he begins to stir, eyes fluttering and eventually that gorgeous blue (a little greyer in the mornings actually) is mine to see.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.” I mumble, and a smile flickers across his lips.
“Morning, prince charming.” Lou chuckles, letting his eyes shut again and snuggling into my neck.
I rub circles on his back, kissing his unruly hair with a grin. He curls into me, sighing. “Life sucks.” He mumbles into my skin and oh, right, I nearly forgot about yesterday. We both deflate a little, flattening.
“Yeah. I feel like I should be reciting one of Zayn’s amazing tweets or something.” I murmur, and he chuckles softly into my neck, making a shiver run down my spine.
“Mhm. Life’s a box of chocolates.” Lou suggests and I laugh a little then, because of course he’d go straight to Forrest Gump. My idiot.
“Mmm, or…Life is like a roller coaster, it has its ups and downs but in the end, it’s a great ride.” I smirk, reciting one of Zayn’s favorites.
Lou chuckles, but it sounds sad. “Well this must be one of the downs. New low point, I think.” He mutters and I sigh, pulling him closer, hoping it feels like a promise.
“Don’t think so badly. I’m sure there’s a good quote or something about life that can just…like make us feel better or…something.” I finish lamely, and Lou kisses my collar bone, letting his teeth push on it lightly.
“Uhm. Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die tomorrow.” Louis quotes, pulling back to smile genuinely at me.
“That’s true. We’re…we’re doing that, right?” I ask, a little worried.
“I…I think so. I mean, we were risking a lot going into this, but we did it anyways. And then you fucking serenaded me on stage. If that’s not living as if we could die tomorrow, I don’t know what is.” Lou adds, pecking me on the nose.
“Mm. But now we’re hiding it.” I sigh, letting my eyes shut for a moment in regret.
“We have to. It’s not just us. We have to think of the others.” Louis grumbles and I feel his fingers run over my eyelids, making me smirk.
“I know. I do, it’s just…..” I trail off, opening my eyes to look into his gorgeous cerulean ones.
“Yeah.” He nods.
“Yeah.” I repeat.
He curls back into my chest, and I inhale the scent of his coconut shampoo. There’s the remnants of yesterdays vanilla cologne, but there’s something distinctly Louis about him this morning, something so natural and sweet and gorgeous that I can’t help but tighten my hold on him even further.
Suddenly it comes to me, and I smile. “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” I quote into Louis’ ear.
“Mhm, I like that one. New favorite, I think.” Louis states, sucking a love bite into my neck and making me moan a little.
“I love you.” I whisper when he kisses the new bruise.
“I love you too.” He smiles at me, blue orbs twinkling as he wiggles his eyebrows.
“What?” I ask, knowing that mischievous smirk anywhere.
“You think shower sex counts as dancing in the rain?” Louis asks, eyes darkening with what cannot be mistaken for anything other than lust.
And with that, we’re out of bed and scrambling to the bathroom, giggling along the way.
***********************************************
(Harry’s POV)
Later that day, we got the call saying that we could tweet/text/call again, as long as we’re careful and don’t drop hints or address the issue. We were still trending on twitter, tumblr was glitching and youtube had blown up with the videos. We watched a few from different angles, smirking and laughing at ourselves in hopes of ignoring how sad we were and still are.
I called my mum and spoke to Gemma, chuckling when as they talked to me my step dad called out ‘Congrats lover boy!’ from the background. We then Skyped with Louis’ family, and his sisters interrogated me on my intentions with Louis (“Are you treating him well? Like the princess he is?” “Why can’t you just kiss him in public again, he loves the attention!” “Shut up girls, we all know that they want to get to their sexy times.”) and his mother once again fawned over us. Then we called Stan and the entire conversation was basically “Oh my god really, no way, oh my god, seriously? No way! No way, no wayyyy!” Then afterwards we finally got back to none other than Ed Sheeran, who complimented us on the song choice, teased us about our relationship (which we told him about, rebelling a little) and asked if we can see him again soon, which of course we agreed to.
Then we got another call from management, telling us that an interview had been set up on a talk show tomorrow morning. We’re to sit as far away as possible and act as if it was a friendly joke. We tried to ignore how much that hurt, and I ordered pizza for us, then watched Finding Nemo with Lou as a distraction from it all. We cuddled in bed for what felt like forever, until the boys decided to interrupt us. But we were asleep snuggled into each other and they took a ton of pictures before waking us up by jumping onto us in a group hug. They then made us scoot over and watch The Breakfast Club with them, choosing to compare us all to a character even though it’s ridiculous, and somehow we ended up having a pillow fight and a popcorn war. Nobody spoke about how much it hurt, knowing we have to hide. It’s there, hovering above us, but nobody dares breach the invisible boundaries.
The boys fell asleep my king sized bed with us (“If you guys have had sex on this since we got here, tell me now.” “No.” “Are you lying, I swear if you’re lying-” ”We had shower sex, asshat.” “Oh god thanks for that image!”) with Louis in my chest, Niall sprawled over Liam and Zayn halfway under me. But it worked, and it brought back memories and god did we need it.
When we woke up the next morning (to Niall shouting about not being able to get some goddamn food around here) I tried my best to ignore the hurt in Louis’ eyes when he remembered what we had to do in a few hours. I know I couldn’t hide it either, and Liam sat down next to me when Lou was in the shower, asking “You don’t want to hide, do you?” To which I answered “Of course not. But we don’t have a choice. Society sucks.” And he nodded, putting a hand on my back and squeezing reassuringly before leaving.
And now we’re here, in the car ride to the tv studio, Louis bouncing nervously as I run my fingers over his sensitive spot, hoping to calm him. Niall and Zayn are shooting us upset looks, but Liam seems lost in thought, though that’s not too different from normal.
We get through hair and makeup quickly and we’re told what to wear (me applying makeup to Louis’ hips just in case, and some to his wrists over the almost gone lines) before we’re taken backstage to where we’re going to enter from.
I squeeze Lou’s hand and mutter an ‘I love you’ before being ushered to the front of the pack, whereas Louis is at the back. I fucking hate this.
When we’re called out to a screaming audience of fangirls and clapping hosts, I can’t help but glance back to see the look of utter pain in Louis’ eyes.
Yep. I fucking hate this.
*****************************************************
(Louis’ POV)
“So boys, we absolutely have to talk about what happened the other night!” The interviewer lady says and I tense up, trying not to look at harry.
“Yes,” The other interviewer says. “I have to say, that was quite the show. For those of you who have been living under a rock the last few days, at their last concert, Harry serenaded Louis and the two kissed on stage, as well as held hands. Here, we have a clip from a video on Youtube.”
He gestures to the screen and I try not to flinch as the clip plays. Harry and I are so close, me sitting on the couch and him between my legs, finishing off the song. And then he says “Kiss me.” rather loudly and I do, wrapping around him and shoving our lips together. Fuck.
The clip ends and the crowd claps and shouts and all that, whereas the interviewers raise their eyebrows.
“So we need to ask, what was that kiss? Are you in a relationship? It was quite the snog.” The lady asks, winking.
I flush and stay silent, letting Harry answer. “Erm, no. We’re just friends, and we got a little carried away. It was more for the fans, really. We know that a lot of them want us to be together so we figured we’d give them a kiss.” He says, looking glum. I try not to cry when the audience collectively sags, sad.
“But what about the song? It was very romantic, you two were making heart eyes!” The guy explains, and I shake my head sadly, attempting to smile.
“No, we were just mucking about. It was for a laugh, really.” I say, laughing fakely. I think they see it’s not real, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Harry’s face dropping. We just can’t do this much longer.
“So you’re not dating?” He asks, deadpan.
“No, we’re not.” Harry says, huffing.
For a second, our eyes meet. I’ve never seen him look so frustrated, so hateful, so upset. I’m sure I look the same, and my smile just dies when we look at each other.
“Yes they are.” Comes Liam’s voice, in a half sigh.
My head snaps around to see him cross his arms. What the hell is he doing? My stomach drops when I look back to Harry, who seems just as surprised.
“What?” The female interviewer asks, shocked.
I stare at Liam, eyes wide. He meets my gaze and smiles. “They are dating. But management told them they needed to keep it a secret, because apparently society doesn’t think it’s acceptable for them to be together, while in a boy band.” Liam explains.
I’m in shock, stomach cold and heart stuttering. He’s outing us on tv and he’s fucking smiling. I can see someone from management freaking out behind the camera man and Harry’s mouth has fallen open.
“But,” Liam says, grinning a little. “I don’t want to be a part of a band that forces two people to hide themselves. Really, guys. You deserve to be out.”
I look to Harry, speechless.
“I’m with Liam on this.” Zayn says, mysterious smile on his lips. “Screw society’s ‘rules’. You two love each other, and you should never have to hide that. It’s 2012, be happy.”
I grin a little, but don’t say anything. Harry and the rest of the people in the area are just as silent, in awe.
“Exactly. Management owns us as a band, not as people. Go on Louis, go sit with your boy toy.” Niall laughs and I feel happiness bubble within me.
I look back to Liam, as if to say ‘Really?’ and he nods, chuckling. They all shuffle down and I stand up giddily to scamper over to Harry, plopping down beside him and grinning hugely, much like him. He reaches down and interlocks our fingers, lifting our hands to show the cameras.
“We’re boyfriends.” He announces proudly and the audience erupts into cheering, and the boys clap, laughing fondly.
I blush and hide in Harry’s shoulder, ignoring the cat calls and cheering and the interviewers loud clapping.
So we’re out. Wow.
***************************************************************
(Harry’s POV)
Things change after that interview. Managements pissed, obviously. Marshall and Fucking Asshole have a right fit, and let their homophobia out. And just like that, Simon fires them, and I couldn’t be happier. But then Sasha and someone else (Nigel, maybe?) sit us down and talk about keeping our image good (“Make your relationship sound positive, keep it cheery and bright, don’t get too handsy, no more on stage kisses, be the Louis and Harry you’ve always been in interviews.”) and we agree, nodding in shock. We’re okay. Not in trouble.
Simon looks a little too smug, and I wonder if maybe he’s glad it turned out this way, glad that Liam spoke up, stood up for us. Glad that the feedback has been positive.
And it has been. #LarryIsReal trends for two days straight, along with other variations. We get hundreds of congrats tweets, there’s tons of tumblrs set up for us, and people make signs about Larry Stylinson. We get yelling fans like usual, except now instead of ‘Marry me!’ it’s ‘Get married Larry!’ and god that feels good. Louis and I finally hold hands in public, just for a quick run to the store but we get spotted and then the pics are all over the internet, and we’re trending again, and Louis just looks up from my phone to look at me in shock, happiness shining in those blue eyes. That’s all I ever wanted. I tell him that he blushes adorably, wrapping an arm around my waist in Tesco.
I worry that maybe we’re taking away attention from the boys, seeing as though Lou and I are the hot topic and the other guys don’t get tweeted as much. But when I voice my concerns they shake their heads, saying that all they wanted for us to have what we wanted, and now that we do, they can rest easier. God, I love them. Louis might have cried at that, and we might have snuggled all five of us on the couch. Maybe.
And then we make our first tweets as a couple, even though we’re right beside each other on the couch. @Harry_Styles: hey @Louis_Tomlinson you look cute in your pjs xx
And Louis’ phone dings and he checks it, then laughs at me and presses a kiss to me neck before replying. @Louis_Tomlinson: @Harry_Styles oh? Cause you look way hotter, babe xx
Well, we trend again. And we giggle, ecstatic.
Management sets up our first interview, all the boys of course, for Alan Carr and we all laugh because oh god, that’ll be interesting. It’s not till next week though, so at least we have some down time.
It’s spent cuddling, tweeting, snogging and goofing off. We get a package labelled ‘Congratulations on being the cutest gay couple ever’ package in the mail, and unsurprisingly it’s from Stan. That fucking idiot sent us ‘couple bracelets because come on that’s cute right?’ and okay, so we wear them. They’re cute little woven bands, mine purple and Louis’ blue. I like them. Included in the package is a few other ridiculous things like nutella and a teddy bear, and when we call him to say thank you, he demands we tweet him about it for “recognition of being so goddamn awesome to you” and we do, making sure to be a little teasing about it.
As well as this, we go on our first date. That, is interesting. Management had allowed it (Zayn’s idea, I should really thank him) and set up a private table for us at a restaurant. Louis had been all fumbly and I fucking loved it, it was so cute. I gave him a red rose and he was so flustered, so adorable, that I just leaned in and kissed him over the table. We shared our food, feeding bites and playing footsie under the table. And I fell a little more in love with him during dessert when he got chocolate sauce on the side of his mouth (much like Niall all that time ago, god so much has changed) and instead of wiping it off, I’d lent in and licked it. And Lou just laughed at me, reaching out to intertwine our fingers. And it was perfect, so fucking perfect, that when we got home we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
Everything was utterly perfect. For real, this time.
That feels perfect.