Smile For Him

Minutes ticked by, yet the two boys continued to stare at each other. No words were spoken. Everything that needed to be said was spoken through their smiles. Louis was almost relieved. It had been a daring move. One which could have ended their friendship for good. Harry was, after all, a fragile boy with little to no social experience. But luckily, things just seemed to fit. Their relationship worked. It really shouldn’t have. A twenty year old boy who lived in a cheap house and worked at a pub, and a seventeen year old rich kid who should have known better than to hang around with said twenty year old. But both boys didn’t care. They understood each other in a way that possibly no one else had. And something just seemed to click.

The otherwise perfect moment was broken by the sound of Louis’ stomach rumbling. He laughed and said, “You hungry? I am.” Harry just nodded, now noticing that his stomach was too panging in hunger. He hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. “Want to get some food?” Harry again, nodded in approval and followed Louis as he walked out of the barn. It was dark now, with no lights in the surrounding field to guide their way. If Harry were to be honest, he was scared. Anything could be lurking in the deep grass, or the woodland that was just to the side of them. The moon shone on above them, with stars winking knowingly at the two boys.

Louis didn’t seem fazed by the dark, and causally started heading in the direction of his car. Harry, on the other hand was a little more wary. His eyes darted this way and that, ready for some snarling animal to leap from the bushes, or for a madman to come running towards him with an axe. With small steps he tried to follow Louis, his blazer wrapped tightly around himself as the wind attacked him. Noticing Harry’s slow pace Louis stopped and turned around. “You okay, Harry?” through the moonlight he could just barely see a mop of curly hair nod enthusiastically...but falsely. Louis laughed. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” Harry caught up with Louis and gave a false laugh, “No! I’m not...I’m not scared,” a sudden wind picked up causing the leaves on the trees to rustle eerily causing Harry to jump and shiver. Louis laughed again heartily, taking Harry’s hand in his own. Their cold fingers interlocked together and Louis searched the young boy’s eyes. “Come on,” he chuckled, noticing how wide Harry’s eyes had grown at their entwined fingers.

It was strange for Harry. He’d never held hands with anyone before. Only with his mother when he was much younger, and even then she held a loose grip. As if she was almost willing for him to let go. But this...this was different. Their fingers fitted perfectly together, while Louis kept a tight grip. It was comfortable, yet intimate. It made Harry blush. Although let’s be fair, it didn’t take much to make Mr. Styles blush. He felt like he could get use to this. His hands were sweating a little with nerves, but he certainly felt warm. His heart fluttered a little every time Louis gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The boy had to keep glancing down at their joined hands to make sure it was real...to make sure that this was really happening. It just looked so perfect. Louis had much smaller hands than Harry would have thought. His own larger, but paler hand dominated Louis’, his longer slender fingers slid in between Louis’. But Louis didn’t seem to make a big deal out of this handholding situation at all. Harry realised Louis must have held hands with a lot of people...a lot of girls. And he realised their hands must have been a lot softer than his too. But he wondered whether Louis preferred a softer hand, or a rougher, stronger hand much like Harry’s? Harry himself thought he would much prefer a males hand to a female’s. They held much tighter, and had a firmer grip. Protective. They felt in control, not breakable and flimsy like a girls.

After a few minutes Harry noticed the shape of a car under the moonlight. His brain seemed to stop panicking now. Now he wasn’t quite so scared of being attacked by a werewolf or some other fictitious but none the less frightening beast. Harry smiled as the car lit up as Louis unlocked it, but instantly frowned as Louis’ hand pulled away from his own. His hand felt empty now. Cold and incomplete. But he slid into the car after Louis without protest.

“Where do you want to go?” Louis asked, putting the key into the ignition. Harry shrugged and stated, “I don’t mind,” in truth Harry didn’t have a clue where to go. The only places that served food that he knew of in town were overly expensive restaurants which he knew Louis wouldn’t be able to afford. Unless Harry brought the food this time...

“We...we could go to a restaurant or something? I have money on me.” Louis laughed and said back, “Don’t be silly, Harry. I wouldn’t expect you to spend that kind of money on me,” Harry pouted and stated, “You can’t by me things all of the time! That’s not fair,” but again, Louis just chuckled. “You can buy me dinner another time. But this time, I buy. Now, do you like Subway?” Harry blinked in confusion. “What’s Subway?”

Louis made a shocked expression, one which was meant to be fake and humours, but genuinely looked quite real. “You’ve never been to Subway?” Harry shook his head, wondering what on earth Louis was so shocked about. “Okay, we’re going to Subway,” the older boy decided, turning the car on and beginning to drive away. “What is Subway though? Why are you so shocked?”

“Because subway’s amazing. You pick a sub, fill it with stuff, heat it up, and eat it! It’s great. You’ll love it. It’ll be a change to that caviar stuff, eh?” Louis grinning while Harry frowned. “I don’t eat caviar,” he mumbled, “I hate it.” Louis took his eyes off of the road for one second to glance at the younger boy and giggled, “I know. I was just teasing you.”

-

Both boys sat outside of the shop, subs in hand. Louis shovelling as much food into his mouth as humanly possible, while Harry ate more daintily, taking a small bite and chewing properly before taking another. Just as he was taught. He couldn’t help but laugh at Louis. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, rather than just hours. Louis finished his in a matter of minutes, while Harry was barely half way through. As he took another bite, he was aware of the blue eyes on him. Studying him with worry and interest. “What?” he bluntly asked, turning to look at Louis.

“You don’t eat enough,” Louis said seriously. His eyes glancing down Harry’s skinny torso, and back up again, meeting green eyes. “Yes I do,” Harry argued back pathetically. “No you don’t, look at you, you’re so skinny.” Louis jabbed a finger to Harry’s ribs, almost sickened at the about of bone sticking out. Harry winced and pulled away. Partly because it hurt, and partly because Louis’ short touch made his insides butterfly.

“You do eat properly, right?” Louis was deadly serious this time. He’d only now noticed how small the small boy really was. He was clearly fed well. He was fucking rich enough. So why was he practically skin and bone? “Yeah, I eat properly,” Harry said, making sure to take an extra large bite of his food. “Then why so thin?” Louis continued to push. Harry rolled his eyes. “I just don’t eat a lot, okay? I don’t make myself not eat. I like food. I’m just never hungry. I just...have other things on my mind. Things more important than food.”

Louis gave a snort of laughter, which was somewhat bitter. “I have a good friend that would argue against things being more important than food,” he said, thinking of his Irish friend. “But that’s why you don’t eat? Because you worry about stuff?”

Harry replied as he always did when he didn’t know what to say...or rather didn’t want to admit the truth. He shrugged. Louis gave him a look, raising his eyebrows with a straight mouth. Harry sighed and said, “Fine. I worry about stuff, okay?” he looked away from Louis’ prying eyes and watching cars race down the street. “What kind of stuff?”

“Just...stuff. All kinds of stuff,” Harry said, picking at his half finished food. “Well, you shouldn’t worry about stuff. It’ll end up taking over your whole life. You should talk to someone about it. You know, someone like me.” Louis smiled and pulled Harry’s head up to meet him. Harry’s eyes held sadness, but lit up as soon as they saw Louis’ smile. “Okay?” Louis said. “Okay,” Harry repeated.

“It’s nearly nine. Want to go home?” Louis asked, checking his phone but ignoring the texts he had from his friends. “Want to, no,” Harry mumbled, “but I probably should.” Louis threw their wrappings in the bin before both boys walked back to the car. “You know something?” Louis pondered as they walked down the street. Their hands brushed together, and Louis took this as a sign to interlock them again. “What?” Harry asked. Slightly embarrassed about showing this display of affection in public, but also proud somehow. After all, who wouldn’t be proud about holding hands with Louis? “I don’t even know your last name,” Louis turned to Harry to see his eyes wide. He couldn’t believe he didn’t even know this significant detail about Louis. He’d spent almost a week with him and he didn’t even know his last name! “Mine’s Tomlinson, in case you were wondering,” Louis smirked.

Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson. The two names just seemed to roll into one perfect person. Harry said it aloud with even noticing. It rolled off of his tongue and if it had been there all along. It sounded like poetry. Full of rhyme and song. It just felt so perfect. Louis laughed as Harry said his name aloud. He liked the way Harry said his name. It was spoken softly in his accent, and it sent shivers up his spine...he’d never felt that way. Not when someone had said his name. Why did this boy have such effect on him? Stupid boy. Stupid perfect boy.

“What’s yours?” Louis asked, breaking Harry out of his trance. “Styles,” he said. Louis couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. Styles. A word that somehow seemed the complete opposite of who Harry was. Harry, in a fashion sense, was stylish. He had the money to buy the nicest things in town. But Harry Styles did not have style. The boy was a bumbling, awkward fool. But it was perfect. Harry Styles. Just quite simply perfect.

“Why are you laughing?” Harry asked. His voice wasn’t filled with hurt, but rather laughter too. He knew exactly what Louis was laughing at, and he can’t believe he hadn’t picked up on it himself. Because it was an odd surname. For Harry anyway. But somehow it really was perfect for him.

“Harry Styles,” Louis just sighed with laughter, unlocking his car so Harry and himself could slide in. The journey was silent. Both boys looking out of their respective windows with smiles on their faces. Today felt perfect. The surnames, the handholding...the kiss. Harry couldn’t believe it had happened to him. Seventeen years he had gone without a single person. And in five days one boy had changed him. Not completely. He was still a quivering wreck most of the time. But he felt different now.

Now he had a reason to get up in the morning. Rather than before, where he would go to sleep and pray he didn’t wake up again...He was happy. He really was. He felt like he could smile. He felt like he could laugh. He felt like he could actually talk to someone and not be punished for having an opinion. Thank God Louis walked into his life. Because if Louis was never there, Harry didn’t know how he would ever have coped.

-

That night Harry did it again. It was around one o’clock in the morning and he was still wide awake. Adrenaline was coursing though his veins as he thought of the night. He felt hot as he thought of Louis’ lips on his own. Even now he could still feel a slight tingle on them. His palms were sweating. His insides were fluttering. But this time, when he touched himself, he didn’t feel guilty. Because he knew Louis would say it was okay.

And this time, it felt even better. More satisfactory. This time he knew what he was doing. He knew what he liked. He knew what worked. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. He cried out, not worried that anyone could hear him. His family were on the other side of the large house. Harry could scream in ecstasy for all they cared. So he did. A husky moan growling from his throat. As his hand moved quicker his mouth spread out into a grin. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh because everything was so perfect. He wanted to cry because someone truly liked him.

And that someone was on the other side of town. And they too were biting their lip, their eyes tightly shut with their hand pumping fast underneath the sheets. But he couldn’t risk letting out a moan, because his walls were paper thin and Liam was only just next door. His mind was filthy. Full of thoughts about the curly-haired boy. He silently wished it were Harry’s young, inexperienced hands giving him pleasure rather than his own. His back arched. Fuck. This boy was doing things to his head. He wanted him. He wanted him so bad. He wanted him forever. He jerked and fell back onto his pillows, panting and sweaty, his sheets now sticky. He closed his eyes and sighed, all the while Harry still on his mind. “Fuck,” Louis said quietly. A smile of pleasure present on his lips.