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Florida’s weather is the reason Louis has trust issues.
Obviously he is not a stranger of sudden downpours. He has been conditioned since a young age to be vaguely surprised if rain doesn’t burst from the sky at any given moment. But, you know, England is sort of infamous for that quirk. The Sunshine State, on the other hand, is called the bloody Sunshine State. Louis was under the impression that every day would be bright and that people wore bikinis everywhere. CSI: Miami style, of course.
And then he actually moved there and learned that, no, no one actually does that. At least not in Orlando; he hasn’t spent too much time at the beaches to really judge whether or not the stereotype runs true there. But from where he’s standing, Florida is just an unfortunately shaped state with bipolar moods and at first it was somewhat depressing. But then he got used to it, and now like the others, he just shrugs and mutters, “Fucking Florida.”
See, it’s not just the fact that it rains a lot that annoys people. It’s that it can’t seem to decide whether it wants to rain or not. Louis would step outside his flat—apartment, he says to himself—and it would resemble perfect postcard weather. Then five minutes later, the water comes down as if Jesus let the bathtub overflow. It’d be the kind of weather that makes people pull over on the side of the road in fear of driving through it. But then, almost as sudden as it appeared, it stops and everything returns to being beautiful. Really, fucking Florida.
At the moment, Florida is having one of these wet hissy fits. Louis presses his forehead against the passenger window, squinting in an effort to see through the haze. Besides him, Zayn drives with a deep frown etched onto his face and the only sound between them is the annoying squeaks of the windshield wipers; Louis almost wants to reach over to them and break them off, but then they would probably crash and die. So. He lets them do their thing.
“It better not be like this tomorrow,” Louis whines. “I might call in sick.”
“You won’t,” Zayn replies without looking at him. Which is good, he shouldn’t, or else they would probably crash and die. “The news said that tomorrow should be nice out.”
Louis gives him a pointed look. When are the weather people ever actually right about these things? That’s right, never. He can picture that scene from Mean Girls, where Cosette grasps at her breasts before exclaiming that it’s raining. They totally do that. He snickers at the mental image which actually makes his companion glance over. And it’s almost like Louis is psychic—maybe he has ESPN or something, bless you Cosette—because, suddenly, something is hitting them from behind. Louis lurches forward, thank God for seatbelts, and from the corner of his eye he can see Zayn doing the same. It’s really not that bad of a hit though, the air bags don’t even go off, so the two just sort of look at each other and laugh. They’re on a side street, they’re okay, no one crashed and died this day.
And then Louis glances at the rear view mirror and notices a figure practically running over to them. It’s most likely the culprit who rear ended them or someone who is really into their morning exercise. Zayn and Louis both stare at one another, having a mental argument before Louis finally flips him off, opens the door, and steps out into the downpour. He almost changes his mind and dives right back into the car, but the stranger is already up to them. He’s taller than Louis, lanky in a way that makes it look like his limbs decided last minute that they wanted to encompass the entire Earth. Hair plastered down to his face, the guy looks like an over-soaked puppy and Louis knows he should be annoyed at the guy for hitting them. He normally would be. But he’s oddly adorable.
“I’m so sorry,” he yells out, and Louis notices that he’s also British. Which really isn’t that surprising, tourists come from all over the globe to visit here, but he still nods in approval. “I didn’t see you, I’m so sorry, let me call the police—”
“Hold it,” Louis answers firmly. He holds a hand out in a shushing motion, and surprisingly it actually works. He then walks by the guy to inspect the damage, and just like he thought, there isn’t any. The bumper is slightly scuffed, but to be honest, their car is already a piece of shit so for all he knows that mark could have been there before the accident. He casts a glance over to the other car and sees that it also remains relatively fine.
“It’s okay,” he continues. “No damage done, we don’t need to get the po-po involved.”
The guy scrunches up his nose. “Did you just actually call them the po-po?”
“Do you want me to sue for damages?”
It’s a joke, anyone who actually knows Louis would be able to tell it’s a joke, but this guy does not know Louis or his jokes. His eyes widen and he glances backwards at his car, and Louis notices that there are other people in it. He’s probably wondering how he’ll explain to them that they acquired a lawsuit on their vacation. Louis chuckles darkly; he has heard enough horror stories from tourists to become indifferent to them at this point.
“Look, let me give you my information, okay? Pen… I need a pen,” he pats down his pockets in a desperate attempt to find a writing utensil.
“Love,” Louis says without thinking about whether or not the guy would be creeped out by the pet name. “Listen, everything is okay. You can go back to your car, and I’ll go back to mine, and we can both drive away to our respective sunsets. Is that okay with you?”
“But,” his voice comes out whiny, drawing out the vowel in a way that makes Louis shiver. Or that could be because he’s fucking freezing and is standing outside in the rain, but. Whatever. “I crashed into you.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “More like lightly tapped into us. It’s fine. No one was injured, our cars aren’t wrecked, but right now my hair is and I think my toes are about to fall off. So let’s leave it as that, yeah?”
He blinks, as if just now realizing that they are standing outside in the rain. And like previously stated, Louis should definitely be annoyed by this. He would normally be a lot more sarcastic and rude, but all he wants to do is pat the guy’s head. Possibly both heads. He glances down at his jeans. Okay, definitely both heads.
“Shit,” the curls mutters. “You’re soaked, sorry. Here, let me get you a jumper, or…”
This time, Louis actually presses a finger to the other boy’s lips to quiet him down. Again, it works. He keeps it there for a few seconds, probably longer than necessary, and says slowly, “No. You are going to turn around and get back into that car with your mates, blast that heater, and then enjoy the beautiful yet badly titled Sunshine State. I will do the same. And the next thing I see of you better be that bum walking backwards.”
Curly laughs, and for a second it looks like he’s going to argue some more, but he nods. Giving Louis a little wave, he turns around and runs back to the car. Louis can see the person in the passenger seat reaching over to open the door for him. He wonders for a moment if they’re dating, then realizes that doesn’t actually matter before heading to his own seat. Zayn does not open the door for him.
“What was that about?” Zayn asks the moment he’s inside. “I saw touching.”
Louis shrugs. “He was cute. I think. It was hard to tell with all the rain, but I am fairly certain that he was cute.”
He receives a grunt in reply, and it’s not until they are driving away that Louis realizes he never got the guy’s name. Oh well.
“Do you think if we tell them that we got into a terrible car accident yesterday, they would let us take the day off?”
Perrie and Zayn both give him a Look, and Liam shifts uncomfortably. “Louis, we’re in the car right now. It’s fine.”
“They don’t need to know that,” he huffs, but he knows he has lost this one. Playing hooky has become infinitely more difficult since he acquired his new position, and he almost misses selling giant turkey legs just because no one would notice if he called in sick a day or two. Zayn seems to sense this because he reaches over and rubs Louis’ shoulder.
“Come on, Neverland,” he says gently. “Let the magic begin.”
After his second year of uni, the Tomlinson family won a paid trip to Walt Disney World during the summer holidays. The girls were ecstatic, especially the twins, and even though Louis kept complaining that he was simply too old for Disney, he also was happy. It’s a bit difficult to say that you’re going to the theme park without having a smile on your face. And so they went, and Louis fell in love. And, like, he was already considering taking a year off from school anyway. He just wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted to spend the time other than “not at home.” It was somewhere between wandering from Frontierland and Adventureland that he decided he wanted to work here, even if it was just for a little while. So he applied and when he got the job, he took up a visa and moved to the USA.
Louis misses home, sure. Too much of his pop culture references go over the heads of others, and how Americans treat their tea makes him want to dive under a bus. He misses his sisters and mum, Stan, and so many others that he can only keep in contact with through text messages and Skype. And even though he has since learned that the happiest place on Earth isn’t always that happy, he still loves it. Then, after one of the Peters quit because he was moving, Louis jokingly applied for the position. And he got it.
He’s Peter fucking Pan.
Louis is pretty wonderful with people, if he can say so himself. Yes, he has a reputation for being a little shit—a reputation that almost made HR pass over him—but he can behave when he wants to. But the thing is, the actual character of Peter Pan is also known for being a little shit. So Louis can actually get away with being an asshole while in costume, as long as whatever comes out of his mouth is work appropriate and not completely out of the left field. So if he spots anyone being an asshole, he can happily call them out on it. It’s part of the reason why he actually bothered to apply for the position instead of, say, Prince Eric.
Well, that and the fact that he doesn’t exactly fit the height requirements to be Eric. Not that he’ll ever admit to that.
He met Liam very early on, as they were both stationed at the same shop on Main Street. Liam had only been there for about two months and, as Louis was also brand new, the two quickly clung to each other. They discussed the horrors of having to listen to people say the word “soccer” in a non-mocking way, and the irony that they escaped one wet place just to enter another wet place. Liam then introduced him to Perrie, one of the dancers, and she introduced them to Zayn, who is goddamn Aladdin as well as her boyfriend. And now they all live together in a generously spaced flat—apartment, dammit—close to the park. It was Zayn who told him about the Peter leaving.
So they’re all on their way to the park for the morning shift, way too early for Louis’ liking, for another magical day. They get out of the car and all go their separate ways. Louis and Zayn stick together, the forever daunting task of being fussed over with makeup and costuming ahead of them. He can’t really complain though, at least he’s not a head character. He had to be Stitch once, and he almost wanted to commit because of how unbelievably hot it became inside the suit. And once he’s actually in his own costume, he doesn’t mind as much. Because, damn, it does some nice things to his ass.
Not that he notices things like that or anything.
It’s here where the two part. Zayn gives a wave before hurrying off to his station, but Louis dawdles for a bit. He sees Eleanor, his Wendy, checking her phone before putting it away. Smiling, he walks over to her and wraps an arm around her shoulder.
“El,” he coos, “What is a twelve year old doing with a smartphone?”
“Lou,” she says back, mimicking his tone, “Shut up.”
The two link arms and follow their handler, Jesy, out into the sun. And despite the fact that Louis was trying extremely hard to get out of going to work, he is in a good mood. He starts to skip, which startles Eleanor at first, but she shrugs and follows along. Bless her, the other Wendy he frequently has to work with would just shoot him a dirty look. Jesy laughs from behind them, and really, he is just a huge bundle of energy now that he’s actually here and he has no idea where it came from, but he has a feeling that today will be a good one. Once they’re actually properly situated in their usual area, Louis begins to work. He jokes with guests, pulls children into hugs, throws flowers at Eleanor while her back is turned. It’s nice and fun, and even when an older gentleman is less than polite, he doesn’t let that get to him. Okay, yeah, Louis is sort of an asshole back to them, but still. He’s rude with a smile, and everyone laughs at his joke while Jesy and Eleanor exchange looks because they are aware it’s not a joke. But they love him so they let him get away with it.
Soon it’s time for the show, and they excuse themselves from the crowd. When Louis first started this gig, he was apprehensive about prancing around on stage in front of hundreds of people. That fear soon faded away after he realized that, while it’s ridiculous, it’s also pretty fun. Unless he’s dealing with a hangover. Not that he frequently goes to work with hangovers or anything. No one can prove it. Anyway, the performance goes fairly well, although there is a split second while he’s mocking Captain Hook that a figure in the crowd grabs his attention. But when he looks again a few minutes later, it’s gone, and Louis shakes his head.
He’s overly grateful for their break. Eleanor excuses herself to go over to Normani, the Princess Tiana on duty today, and he sits in a corner to mess with his phone. He sends out quick tweet then checks his messages, sees this his mum had called and smiles fondly at the missed call. He has been here for eight months already and she’s still not used to him being so far away. He calls her back and leaves a loving voicemail about how he hasn’t starved himself and that he’s still single. When time is up, he follows Jesy back to their area, although this time Eleanor doesn’t come with them. She was probably sent somewhere else.
It’s then, while Louis is on his knees and chatting with an energetic six year old that he sees him again. He notices the too long legs at first, and he allows his eyes to travel up for a view at the rest of his body. Admittedly, he may have lingered a few seconds on the crotch, but those jeans are like, really tight. It’s not his fault. But once he sees his face, Louis just knows. And like, when they had met yesterday the rain was coming down so hard it was difficult to see two feet in front of him, but Louis doesn’t have a single doubt that it’s the same guy who ran into them. And he almost calls out to him, asks for his name this time, but then he remembers that he’s not Louis Tomlinson right now. He’s Peter Pan, and there is a smiling child in front of him and the absolute last thing he can do at the moment is break character. So he tucks away that desire, gives the girl a hug, then greets the next guest in line.
Around seven autographs and photos later, Louis is face to face with the curls. Next to him is a blond and a redhead, both in deep conversation over someone named Nick. The former is definitely Irish, Louis notes. But the guy, that should be capitalized, The Guy, is only paying attention to Louis. The nervous smile on his face is only for Louis. Or Peter. Whatever.
“Hi,” he says shyly.
“Hi,” Louis says back. A second passes, and he remembers his role. “Aren’t you a little tall to be a lost boy?”
“Does height really matter,” he counters, “if you’re still a little boy at heart?”
You are definitely not a little boy, Louis thinks. “If you’re going to get all deep, you should go find Wendy,” he says.
He laughs and then holds out a hand. “I’m Harry. Big fan.”
Harry. Harry Harry Harry. Louis has met countless of Harry’s over the years, but for some reason the name sounds new and exciting now. He wants to savor it on his tongue, hear it come out in a gasp as he’s being pounded against the wall and, wow. He should not be having thoughts like that while he is wearing tights, okay. He clears his throat.
“Obviously,” Louis leans in close to the extended hand, hands planted on his hips. He makes a very big show of inspecting it, causing some of the children in line behind them to giggle. Afterward, he finally accepts the greeting and shakes the hand vigorously. That gains more giggles and a smile from Harry. “Everyone’s a fan of me. I’m a fan of me.”
Harry bites his lips—very nice lips, oh—and nods. Louis actually begins to wonder if he doesn’t recognize him. Which, you know, would be normal. He’s pretty sure the only reason he remembers Harry is because he would very much like to bang the fellow. Yet he’s still disappointed, for some reason, and he tries very hard not to let that show on his face. It must have shown, though, because Harry frowns at him before taking a step closer. “Can we take a picture together?”
Before waiting for Louis to respond, Harry turns away and taps the redhead on the shoulder. After a murmured conversation, the ginger pulls a camera out and hands it over to Harry who returns his attention to Louis. “Can we do one with all four of us and then another with just us two?”
Louis nods, and Jesy walks up to take the photos. The group one is ridiculous, with everyone posing very dramatically and Louis realizes he would be great mates with all of them. Then the other two walk off—Niall and Ed are their names apparently—leaving Harry alone with Louis. This photo is a lot more normal, with Harry pressing close to Louis’ side. He can feel a large hand up against his lower back, and Louis has to take a deep breath and think pure thoughts. Kittens. Cupcakes. There are children watching.
But then Harry’s breath is on Louis’ ear, and he’s whispering right against his skin, “Did you get home safely? After yesterday, I mean.”
Louis’ eyes widen, and he’s not sure if it’s because of Harry’s lips brushing on him or if it’s the surprise of him actually recognizing him. Either way, that picture probably came out really fucking comical because Jesy takes it right then. Harry steps away, staring at Louis with concern clouding his eyes. Louis goes to speak, then remembers he can’t openly break character, and nods instead. Harry grins brightly, and Louis is convinced right there that his smile is what’s keeping the rain away today, and then he thanks Jesy for taking the picture before joining his friends. They don’t look back as they walk away. Louis pretends that he doesn't either.
It’s when his shift is over, and Louis is about to head into the locker room to peel off his costume, that Jesy slides up next to him. Before he can ask anything, she hands him a piece of paper. When Louis looks at it, he spots a phone number. Which is, okay. Louis thought he made it pretty clear that he is into dongs and not thongs, but this wouldn’t be the first time a nice girl hasn’t taken the hint. Except then he sees the name attached to the number and don’t be ridiculous, his heart does not start beating faster, he’s not a preteen girl.
“He told me to give it to you when I was giving him back the camera,” she shrugs as if it doesn’t affect her, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips. “Have fun.”
Louis is already pulling out his cell phone and dialing before she’s gone.
It’s not like this is the first time he has gone out with a park guest. And it’s not like he’s exactly by himself since Harry told him to invite his friends. So with Zayn, Perrie, and Liam beside him, Louis ventures through CityWalk in search for those ever elusive curls. He spots them at their arranged meeting spot, near the movie theater, and Harry practically leaps into Louis’ arms. And Louis should think this weird, that a near stranger is latching onto him as if they were lifelong friends, but he doesn’t. It’s endearing, really. Louis rubs his back. He can feel three pairs of eyes burning a hole into him.
Whatever. Louis is allowed to hug people.
He’s then properly introduced to Niall and Ed. And he likes Ed a lot, he really does, but it’s Niall who steals the show. He instantly clicks with them all, slides easily to the conversation and laughs hysterically at things that are not that funny. It’s soon revealed that he also doesn’t believe in personal space, because after about half an hour he’s already leaning against Liam and making kissy faces at him. It’s great. Really great. Louis learns that the three of them are staying for a week and are going to Hollywood Studios tomorrow. Louis is bummed to hear that they’re not returning to Magic Kingdom, which is silly. Since they’re only here for a limited time it makes sense that they don’t want to repeat parks. Most guests do that. Still, Louis would have liked to give Harry a better view of his bum in the Peter costume. Missed opportunities, and all that. Harry is horrified when he learns that Zayn is Aladdin and was also in the car at the time of the accident. He whispers, “I almost killed Aladdin and Peter Pan, oh no,” and the whole group bursts into laughter.
They head out to the Hard Rock to eat. He then soon learns that Niall’s stomach is possibly connected to thhat black hole from the reboot Star Trek movie because there is no way a normal human being can eat that much food in one sitting. Harry isn’t any better either, to be honest. He keeps taking food off of Louis’ plate when he thinks he isn’t looking, except Louis is always looking. Which sounds vaguely stalkerish, and it probably actually is stalkerish, but Louis doesn’t care anymore. Harry is very attractive, with his bright eyes that would possibly be described is glistening orbs in a crappy young adult romance novel, and his tattoos that are sprinkled across his body. Louis wonders how big of a betrayal would it be to his company if he had wild bathroom sex on the enemy’s territory, but he can’t bring himself to care too much.
After they eat, they all sit around and chat. Harry suddenly remembers that he needs to buy his sister a wand, explaining that he forgot to get one when they went to Islands of Adventure two days ago. Louis offers to accompany him to the shop, and the two part ways with the others. He hopes he doesn’t look too obvious, but Harry is the one who gave away his phone number, so it’s not like the guy can really complain. Louis directs them to the corner where the Harry Potter merchandise is tucked into. He watches Harry shift through the boxes, his long fingers picking up each individual wand and closing examining them. How utterly careful he is gives Louis a weird feeling. It isn’t until Harry is on his sixth wand that Louis can place a name to it. Fond. He is goddamn fond of the boy. But he barely knows him, he doesn’t even know his last name, but all he wants to do is rub his nose against Harry’s and lightly kiss his forehead before sucking his dick. And, normally, Louis’ only concern is the dick part. He doesn’t even like giving other people blowjobs. Oh God.
“I’m not sure which to get,” Harry sounds deeply troubled. “They’re all really nice.”
“Why don’t you just get her favorite character’s?”
Harry blinks. And then his face lights up, as if he thinks that’s the most clever thing ever said in the entire history of the English language, and Louis isn’t sure whether he wants to mock the guy for not thinking of that himself or kiss him. He goes for the safer option. “Did that honestly not cross your mind?”
Harry shrugs, taking one of the Hermione boxes off the shelf. He quickly takes a peek at the wand to make sure it’s not damaged then closes it, satisfied by the contents. “Well, what if your favorite has a wand that you don’t like. That might make you choose another.”
“Ah,” Louis hums. “But if they’re truly your favorite, then that shouldn’t matter to you.”
There’s a long pause before Harry answers back. “I bet you’re one of those guys who get angry at bandwagoner footie fans.”
“Fuck yeah, I am. And if you are one of them, then I am sorry, but we must end this relationship right away.”
Harry waggles his eyebrows. “So we’re in a relationship now?”
“We better be,” Lous says dryly. “Considering you ate all my food at dinner.”
Harry doesn’t reply, but drags Louis over to the cash register to pay. And it’s stupid, but Louis has a small moment of panic because, no, he doesn’t want to go back to the others. He wants to spend more time with Harry, just Harry, to laugh with him and flirt with him and ride him until the cows come home. That last one is probably a stretch, but it’s good to have goals. It builds character.
Louis doesn’t say anything when they leave the shop, or when they scan the area for their friends. It’s not until Louis gets a text message from Perrie that simply reads ‘get it ;)' that he begins to think he needs to speak up, but Harry beats him to it.
“Ed and Niall left,” Harry frowns at his phone. “With your friends. They said they went to a bar that doesn’t card.”
Louis knows exactly which bar it is. Considering he’s the only one who is legal to drink in the States, it’s a place that their group regularly frequents. He licks his lips. He knows that his friends left him so he could have some alone time with Harry, bless their beautiful souls, but this really depends on him. They could either join them at the bar, or… Well.
“What do you want to do?” Louis asks, his throat embarrassingly dry. “They probably took the cars, but I can get a cab. We can go to the bar.”
Harry shifts nervously, his eyes flickering from his phone to Louis. “Actually. Actually, can we stay here for a bit? Walk around and junk?”
That means Harry wants to spend time alone with him. He isn't sure why, but that puts a great, big smile on Louis' face that would probably scare anyone else off on a first date. First date? Is this even a date, since it started out as a group thing? And yeah, there was an actual couple in the midst, but as far as Louis knows Niall and Ed are most definitely not a thing. But now, when the two of them are on their own, is it still just hanging out? Louis doubts that he gave him his number just so they can rub elbows and do whatever else it is that Just Friends do. But Louis doesn't want to be the first to suggest for anything to happen, he wants to know for sure that Harry wants the night to end that way. So he says yes to Harry's suggestion and offers that they should go see a movie. He actually has been aching to see Pacific Rim because Liam has not stopped talking about how amazing it is. Louis even told him that if he liked the movie so much that he should marry it, and Liam very seriously looked him in the eye and said, "I would."
Harry takes his time at the concession stand, which is both cute and annoying because of the long line behind them. Louis can just feel the prayers of dozens of ticked off movie goers wishing them a painful death, but the sight of Harry mouth slightly ajar as he goes through each option makes his heart swell up too much to even pay them much mind. He wonders if Harry does this with everything, puts time and careful consideration into every decision. He thinks back to their meal earlier, and it hits him with a jolt that Harry had just chosen what Louis did. That probably had been because he had no idea what to get and Louis is used to the menu by now, but sill. Maybe Louis is being too emotional over this. He is so wrapped up in these thoughts that he practically jumps when something wet and cool presses against his skin, and he turns to see Harry handing him a large soda. Smiling sheepishly, he takes it while Harry holds the bag of popcorn close to his chest like a newborn full of buttery goodness.
He pretends not to notice when Harry is grabbing the napkins that he only takes one straw.
The movie is great. Okay, amazing. Alright, he wants to adopt Mako Mori and snuggle with her and play with her hair. But even so, the best part of the experience is Harry. The way he leans in close to Louis to express his love for the soundtrack. How he tries, over and over again, to catch a piece of popcorn after tossing it into his mouth (he never gets it in). The way his fingers keep brushing against Louis' in a way that happens way too much to be an accident. At some point during the huge kaiju battle in Hong Kong, Louis turns to him and says that if he wants to hold hands that badly he should just go for it. He's only just teasing, but Harry grins and grasps his palm, and Louis' heart is not fluttering. Seriously. It isn't. When the film is over, and after Harry made them stay for the end of credits scene, they run outside laughing. They're still holding hands, and Louis wonders if Harry is aware of that. He hopes so.
"I don't understand," Louis frowns, "they had a sword. They had this badass, super sword. And you're telling me he went through all those battles barehanded?"
"Maybe not that many pilots use swords?" Harry suggests.
"But that one pair did! The dad and the twat. They were famous for swords, weren't they?" he protests. "Couldn't that trigger his mind, all, 'Oh hey, those swords are pretty neat, wait a minute, I have one too!' Seriously, man. Raleigh, you're slacking. God fucking bless Mako."
After that, the pair wander from store to store. A couple of teenage girls jump them near the DippinDots stand, asking if they know Louis from somewhere. He's always been bad with this sort of thing. While he would normally have no problem with admitting that he wears green tights for a living, sometimes park guests don't understand the meaning of keeping his work and private lives separate. He has had peoeple come up to him and call him by an actual name, which is something that is frowned upon and stamped with a great big No in the character community. It can cost him his job. So he just says that they may have seen him at Disney since he works there, but doesn't elaborate on it. The girls giggle, and you know what? God can also bless Harry, because he waves at them before yanking Louis away.
"Was that awkward?" Harry asks, rubbing his thumb against Louis' skin.
"No," Louis shakes his head. "Sorry, it's just, I'm pretty sure those girls were ones I see a lot at the park. They probably actually live in the area, or something. But Peter is actually a pretty popular position, and people find out things like your real name or Twitter. Which is fine, but occasionally I'll have people yelling 'Tommo' at me while some tiny child is staring wide-eyed and confused because they thought I was named Peter Pan."
"Oh," Harry frowns. "How did you know that I wouldn't be one of those people?"
Shrugging, Louis ducks his head so he can't see the other boy's face. "I didn't, actually. Didn't really care if you were or not."
He doesn't respond, and Louis wonders if he said too much again. But then there's a pair of lips against his cheek, and then Harry's right there, so close with his dimples and his curls and his eyes that Louis can't exactly place an exact color to. He gulps, takes a deep breath, but before he can even begin to form a coherent sentence Harry beats him to it. "Shall we head off then? Just the two of us."
Oh. Oh, okay. Louis nods. Then nods again, just in case Harry didn’t catch that Louis good with this plan. “Want to head back to mine? My apartment is fairly close by.”
Harry looks scandalized, and Louis mentally beats himself up for going too fast. Great, now Harry was going to leave then tell Niall and Ed all about how disgustingly forward Louis was. Even though he barely knows them, he still feels ashamed.
“They Americanized you,” Harry’s voice is horrified.
It takes Louis a moment to realize what he meant. “Flat. My flat. F-L-A-T. Happy?”
“Positively full of joy,” Harry beams, offering his arm to Louis just like Eleanor had earlier that day. Only now, Louis’ stomach is bustling with butterflies, and that is actually a pretty disgusting metaphor—is it a metaphor, who the fuck knows, Zayn is the English major—because, ew. Bugs inside you. Where was he going with this again? Oh, right. Now Louis actually felt things, feelings even, while he and Harry walked out to where they can pick up a taxi. And, again, this isn't the first time Louis has done something like this. But it's always just a quick shag and he never has to deal with the person ever again. Emotions, other than horny, are never involved. But there's something about Harry, not to be confused with the movie of a similar title, that makes Louis' palms sweat. He wants to properly woo this kid, with candles that will either be on a table top or in bed, depending on how the night goes.
The keys are too loud as Louis unlocks the front door, unnecessarily clacking against each other as he fumbles for the handle. He casts a quick glance over at Harry, who seems perfectly at ease, and fuck. Is this a crush? Louis has a crush on this dork? It almost makes him want to groan, but instead he opens the door and lets the other Brit inside. Their place isn't that fancy, to be honest. It's bigger than what they would have been able to afford back in London, but Mickey Mouse really doesn't pay as much as you would think he would. It's three bedrooms, Zayn and Perrie sharing one, with a moderately sized living room and a cramped little kitchen. Louis doesn't mind the size of the kitchen, though, since he can't cook to save his life. He drops his keys onto the kitchen counter, taking care not to look directly at Harry. Now that they're here, alone, he really isn't sure what to do with himself. Suddenly, so suddenly, he's having flashbacks to when he was fourteen and stupid scared out of his goddamn mind, having his first kiss with someone who has the same parts as him. And he's not sure why he's thinking about that, he never thinks about that, but he's as nervous as he was back then.
He turns to Harry, about to ask if he wants to turn on the telly, and Harry is now a lot closer than he was a minute ago. He's so close, in fact, that Louis can count his eyelashes and see his pores and blemishes, but to Louis that just makes him look even more perfect than flawed. And Harry's mouth is now on Louis', gentle at first, but then more insistent. It takes a moment for Louis to shake away the surprise, and then he's kissing back. He's happy, so happy, because this means that he's not weird or anything and that Harry totally felt it too. Maybe. He probably just wants to hook up, without any of those weird feelings thrown in. The thought makes Louis pull away.
"Hm?" Harry murmurs, his arms finding their way around Louis' hips. Louis doesn't normally like large height differences, it makes him self-conscious, but the way he has to turn his head to get a decent view of Harry's face is hot. Really hot. Jesus.
"Nothing," he says. It is nothing, really, so he pulls Harry in again and the only sound is the wet noises that come from their tongues, their lips, and Louis knows that he's getting hard. It's just kissing, but, damn. This is kind of embarrassing. Yet it's like he's on the same wavelength as Harry, because the guy rolls his hips against Louis'. And he does it again. And again. It's around this time that Louis decides that, really, he isn't much in the mood for foreplay at the moment. He pulls away again, causing Harry to frown, but he shakes his head. "What are your thoughts on sucking people off?"
Harry looks startled, and Louis worries that he may have went a little too far with his suggestion. But then Harry flashes a mischievous smile and slides down to his knees. And, okay, Louis actually didn't expect it to be this easy. He pictures a lot more wooing and him reciting sonnets to get into this boy's pants, but no. Not that he's complaining or anything, but now he's having sudden doubts that this is even happening. With his luck, he's probably just having a very wet dream and, wow, he is no longer wearing jeans or pants and that is a very real, not imagined mouth sucking on the inside of his thigh. Nope, this is not his imagination. His imagination never felt this good.
"Are you good?" Harry asks, his voice sounding way too innocent considering he's on his knees with a dick in his face.
"I don't have all day," Louis replies, his dick throbbing for contact. Harry grins, and Louis wonders how could he ever link the word "innocent" to him. His mouth, God bless that mouth, presses against Louis' cock. He just kisses it, at first, peppering every inch with small butterfly kisses that makes Louis squirm. And then the butterfly kisses evolve, and he's sucking on the skin, but it's still not exactly what Louis wants yet it's enough to make him gasp. Harry chuckles before moving back to the tip of the shaft, lets his tongue trace around it. And right when Louis is about to protest the teasing, Harry engulfs him. He works his mouth over his dick, licking the sensitive skin as he works his way over it. He's pretty good at it, much better than Louis, and Louis just wants to melt right there. Without meaning to, he thrusts into Harry's mouth, but he doesn't protest it. Instead, Harry looks up and actually winks at Louis. And Louis thinks, oh screw it, and he's fucking into Harry's mouth. Which is probably something he should not do since he is not exactly sure what the boundaries are here, but Harry doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he laughs around Louis' cock, and that's when Louis decides he is going to marry him.
And Louis wants to say he lasted a long time, that he held out for hours like this, but the truth is he comes rather quickly. And it's not something that usually happens, really, but it's Harry. He's not exactly sure why it matters that it's him or not, but it does. He has only known the guy for a day, less actually, but it really does. And the way Harry detaches himself from Louis' cock and smiles shyly at him, come on his cheeks is too much. Louis pulls him into a kiss, deep, and he hopes it conveys even a fraction of what he's feeling. He doesn't know whether or not Harry understands, but he pretends that he does.
"Can I," Harry's voice is rough, "fuck you? Please?"
Louis nods, and it's only then that he realizes that they're still right at the front door and his flatmates could have walked in at any time. He grabs Harry's wrist and tries to lead him to the bedroom, but Harry shakes his head and looks over at the table. It takes a minute for Louis to realize what he's implying, and he barks out a laugh. Zayn would be pissed if he found out, but then again, Louis is like ninety percent certain that he and Perrie routinely fuck on the table. And on every other surface. Why does he even live here? "Let me get the stuff."
Harry is hesitant, but he lets Louis step away. He goes to his bedroom and opens the bedside drawer, grabbing a condom and the lube. He panics. Like, Louis isn't a strong believer in fate. He considers himself a romantic, even if not that many people actually got to witness that side of him, but the thought that two people were actually meant for each other was never something he fancied. And he's aware of the irony of that, of the fact that he works in the one place where dreams are supposed to come true and your destiny awaits, yet he scoffs at the idea of it all. But right now, in this moment where Harry is waiting in the other room, he wonders if he is actually wrong about it all. Maybe it does exist, and he just hasn't been patient enough.
Taking a deep breath, he walks back to the living room to find Harry naked, posing dramatically on the floor. Louis almost drops the items in his hands, giggling, and he's honestly not sure whether that's the sexiest or most hilarious thing he has seen. Probably a mixture of the two. He greedily lets his eyes scan over the exposed flesh, taking care to memorize every inch of Harry. The sparrows on his chest to the way his toes are curled; the lazy smile on his face to dick, hard and... Well, Louis is pretty sure no one has ever given Harry size complaints, at least. Then again, Louis isn't too thrilled of the idea that other people have actually seen Harry naked, so he pushes that thought aside. He's fine with thinking that this is only for him, even though this is most likely just a one night stand and that they will both have many, many more in the future. These thoughts are ruining sexy time. Louis quickly shortens the distance between them and pulls Harry up to his face. They stand there together, Harry swaying lightly while Louis steadies him.
"Lou," Harry fucking purrs. Purrs. "Are you sure about this?"
That feeling is back, all of that fondness he has for this stupid kid, and Louis nods. He takes Harry's hand in his and walks over to the table, their fingers laced. Once there, he shyly looks at Harry's face. "How do you want to do this?"
Harry just looks at him, then at the table, as if he's studying a piece of art. Then he grabs Louis and fucking bends him over the table, so that his stomach is flat against the wood surface. He takes the lube and condom from his hands, and Louis really wishes he could see what's happening behind him but when he tries to look over his shoulder Harry forces him to face front. So Louis lies there, unsure of what's going on, but then he feels something slick near his rim. Harry gently pushes a finger in, and Louis gasps. Harry pushes it in and out for a while before squeezing in a second finger. And it feels good, which is actually an understatement, but Louis just wants to get on with it. He's pretty sure he voiced this, because Harry leans over and kisses him on the shoulder. He pulls his fingers out, and Louis almost protests the loss of contact until he feels something bigger press against him. Oh. Oh my.
"Ready?" Harry breathes, or Louis thinks he does, anyway. He's not exactly aware of anything that's not Harry's cock against his bum. He just growls—seriously, did sex turn them into fucking animals?—in reply. Harry pushes in, slowly, painfully slow. Then he just stays there, whispering to Louis about his deliciously tight he is, how glad that he's here, and Louis wants him to shut up and get going. But at the same time he loves the sound of that voice, so. It's a dilemma, really, but in the end Louis' raging boner wins out.
"Fuck me, Harold," Louis hisses.
He's rather gentle, at first, working up a nice rhythm. But then the thrusts become harder as he inches deeper inside Louis, and God, this is it. This is what he wanted. Harry pounds him into the table, their legs smacking into each other clumsily, his nails digging into Louis' ass. The table is creaking beneath the weight, and Louis has a random thought of, What if it breaks? And he realizes he doesn't care if it does, as long as Harry doesn't stop. Harry leans over him so that he can plant kisses onto Louis' back. He almost thinks that he's spelling something out, but the thought doesn't stick as Harry hits that one spot. Louis lets out a moan of pleasure so loud he blushes, and his back arches, and Harry takes it as his cue to hit it again. It's too much, really, Louis knows he's about to explode. But he wants this to last, he doesn't want it to end because that means Harry will leave. Then Harry thrusts in a particular way that makes Louis' mind blank out, and all he sees is white as he comes. Harry keeps going for a little while longer, but then he tenses up as his orgasm takes him. He then falls limp right on Louis' back, and they both lay there, one on top of the other. Louis feels Harry's heart beat on his back, and he almost wants to cry because he never felt this connected to another person before. It's terrifying, really terrifying, but he doesn't say so.
Harry breaks the silence. "I just had sex with Peter Pan."
Louis snorts. "Peter Pan is twelve, mate. You probably shouldn't announce that to the world."
Laughing into his shoulder, Harry pulls out. He grabs Louis' hand and starts walking to the bedrooms. "Which one is yours? I want to cuddle."
"Aha," Louis says, taking the lead. "I knew you'd be a cuddler. You have that face."
"You love my face."
He can't deny it.
They crawl into the bed, and Louis wraps the blankets over them both. He suddenly thinks that they should have cleaned up after themselves, especially since the others could come back at any moment. But, fuck it, that's something he can deal with in the morning. Harry wraps his arms around Louis, who leans against his chest. He breathes Harry in, and he smells of sweat and sex and it really just turns him on even more. He sprinkles light kisses against each sparrow, and then works his way up to Harry's neck. He sucks on it, hard enough so that he knows a mark will form. Then he finds Harry's mouth, and they kiss lazily until Louis isn't even sure if it still qualifies as kissing. But he doesn't care, because this bright boy is next to him, and he falls asleep to Harry's mouth pressed against his. He's never felt this warm.
Louis wakes up at about 2 AM to an empty bed. He gets up, puts on some pants that were on the floor and tiptoes to the living room. The clothes that were hastily thrown on the floor are gone, and the table has been wiped down. Harry is nowhere to be seen. Trying not to think about it, Louis goes back to his room and into his bed. Tomorrow is another magical day.
Three weeks later, Zayn and Perrie announce their engagement. Louis and Liam congratulate them, and they drink in celebration. Louis is happy for them, he really is, but it also means that they're going back to London together. They've been saving up for this for a while, so they can afford to go right away if they wanted. Louis thinks that they waited this long for his sake, really, because he knows that he's been a hopeless mess. None of them have actually said this to him, but Louis has enough self awareness to realize that even he wouldn't bang himself right now. And that's saying something, because if he had a clone he would not hesitate to have sex with himself.
It's not like Harry had just up and vanished. The two continued to text each other while he was in Orlando, and he even apologized for leaving so suddenly. Louis had forgiven him; he couldn't stay mad at the guy, he couldn't think of a logical reason of why he should be mad. It's not like they are dating or anything. So they chatted with each other throughout the days, Louis replying whenever he went on break and Harry sending him random pictures of his theme park adventures. Then Sunday arrives, the day where he, Niall, and Ed are meant to go back to London. For a second Louis considers telling, begging, Harry not to leave. He imagines one of those dramatic airport scenes where he runs through the terminal to catch up with Harry at the very last second. The entire crowd bursts into applause as they kiss passionately, and the credits roll. Except in real life there is no way Louis would even make it pass the security gate without a ticket. So he just sends Harry a text that reads 'have a safe trip ! xx' and leaves it at that. They never saw each other again since that one night.
And Louis hasn't spent the entire time sitting around and moping either. He still goes out with his friends, he goes to work, he socializes. He laughs with the park guests and performs when needed, and to anyone on the outside looking in, he is the same Louis that he's always been. But he knows something is off. His smile drops from his face faster than they should, and his quips are not as sharp as they used to be. The glances that his flatmates give him throughout the day lets him know that they also noticed, and Louis knows that it's killing them not to have some sort of intervention over it. He keeps expecting to come home to the all of them sitting on chairs and drinking tea while waiting for him. It never happens.
He has always known that the couple were planning on moving back home. Hell, in a few months even he will be packing up his bags to return to school. He thought he was prepared for this day, but when he's with them at the airport, he realizes he doesn't want to let them go. Everything he imagined doing for Harry back then, he almost does now. But he has dignity, and he refuses to lose it in front of all these strangers in business suits and matching family t-shirts. Instead he gives them both a big hug and a kiss then watches them go. Liam and Eleanor stand next to him, and he doesn't notice their shared glance. He doesn't notice that when they start walking that they don't head to where they park, but instead to one of the airport restaurants. It's when they have all sat down, with the other two facing him, that he realizes that something is amiss. It's finally here: Intervention.
"Lou," Eleanor says softly. "Can we talk?"
"I'm fine," he automatically says. And then winces, because if there is anything that would imply that he is not fine, it's saying that he's fine. The other two agree because they share another Look with one another. "Why didn't you do this when Zayn and Perrie were still here?"
"Oh, they wanted to be around for this," Liam admits. "But they're headed to stressed filled days with their wedding plans. So we wanted to do this ourselves. Louis, we're worried. You haven't been the same since..."
Since Harry. It's unspoken, but they all know. Hell, Eleanor didn't even meet the guy and she's well aware of the effect he had on Louis. It's embarrassing, to be honest. He can't believe that a one night stand has left him in such a state; if he were a Shakespeare character he would most likely be dead right now because of his stupidity. He remembers how, when they were alone together, Louis even thought that they were fated to be with each other. His face heats up just at the memory of that. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Everyone must think he is so stupid. He repeats the word in his head like a mantra, like a prayer, until his eyes start to water. El gasps, and she wraps her arms around him.
"I barely know him," Louis croaks out. "I don't even know his last name. Why is this happening to me?"
"Sweetheart," the girl hugs him more tightly. "There is never a reasonable explanation for shit like this."
Liam gets off of his seat and hugs the both of them. They're like that for a while, just clinging to one another as the rest of the world hurries along. He is sure people stop to stare at them, that they are wondering what exactly is going on, but no one else matters at the moment. Just his friends, the ones present and the ones that aren't. His family. And Harry. They clicked, they really did. Louis doesn't know his full name or his favorite color; he doesn't know what city he's from or his favorite team. But he knows that he and Harry were a good match, can still be a good match, and that destiny is a bitch for forcing them apart. Because Louis still believes in that epiphany. He knows that fate and soul mates actually exist, he has seen it with his own eyes when Perrie excitedly showed off the engagement ring while Zayn blushed. He is just not sure if it's for him.
One month before Louis is due to leave the states, he pulls Liam aside to tell him the exact date. He nods, taking the news much better than Louis expected he would, but then Liam actually opens his mouth. "So we should both put in our two week notices then?"
Louis blinks. "What?"
"I'm going with you," he explains. "I never meant to live here permanently. And I never like, fully enjoyed myself until I became mates with all of you. So if you're going back, I think... I will too. It'll be nice to be home."
There are no tears swelling around Louis' eyes, okay, it's just really bright in this room and he has to squint. But this is great, it's so great. Maybe they can find a temporary place together until uni starts up; they have the address to Zayn and Perrie's flat as well, so they can all hang out as much as they did here. And Louis can introduce them all to his friends from back home, and even his family, and they can all relax in a place where people know the proper name for things. He has been getting tired of the confused looks he's been getting whenever he asks someone to hold the lift for him. He thinks of Eleanor, and he knows he'll miss her, but he also doubts they'll lose contact even if there's a whole ocean between them. So the two boys begin to pack their belongings, tell everyone in England of their upcoming arrival, and then wait for the end of their time in the Sunshine State to arrive. If there is one thing Louis will not miss, it's the false advertisement that lies behind that name.
When they arrive in London, it's raining. For a split second Louis actually wonders if this is some sort of divine message, but then figures that no, it's just London. It probably got jealous of how much he has complained about Florida weather for the past year so it wants to make sure he doesn't forget who's the boss. It doesn't take them too long to spot the familiar faces of Zayn and Perrie near the baggage claim, and together they all had to their flat. The couple offer to let Liam and Louis stay with them until the school term starts up again, and when the boys say they couldn't impose on them like that, Perrie almost breaks Louis' finger off. So, right, yeah, they're staying with them for now.
Everything is wonderful. After he's been settled for about a week, Louis goes back to his childhood home to visit his family. He has an entire suitcase full of souvenirs for all of them, and he is almost offended over the fact that the twins spend more time digging through it than giving him kisses. Lottie asks him if he met anyone fit; Louis ignores the question because he refuses to believe that his little sister even knows what the word 'fit' means. No, she is still a tiny baby who must be protected from the opposite sex and all the dangers they possess. After all the girls finally go to bed, he and Jay cuddle up on the couch with steaming cups of tea and cake and the telly. He's caught between that state of drifting off to sleep and struggling to be alert when his mom breaks the silence.
"Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice full of concern. "You've been acting... differently."
Louis almost drops his tea. Fumbling the cup between his fingers, he sets it down on the coffee table. He has been so used to his friends being aware of the whole... whatever it is, that he had forgotten there are still other people who might notice something is up. He thought he has been acting normally. He laughs, he plays pranks, he does everything that he did before he met Harry. Yet still, people are noticing tiny cracks in his smile and it makes him uncomfortable. He's a drama student, after all, if he can't hide something like this then he is going to have problems. But this is probably not the proper time to be lamenting over his future acting career.
"I'm just tired," he shrugs.
His mother hums; it's obvious that she doesn't exactly believe him, but she's respecting his space as an adult. It makes Louis feel guilty for lying, but honestly, he is not exactly sure what to say. Hey, mum, remember how I used to make fun of all those Disney movies where they would fall in love after five seconds? Well, I am a Disney movie. Yeah, no, that is not going to happen. So instead he just snuggles closer to her, and they both fall asleep there. They wake up to the stench of something burning, and Jay practically throws herself off the couch in order to salvage the breakfast that the girls had been attempting to surprise them with. Louis really adores his family.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Lottie suddenly asks in between bites of toast.
Okay, maybe he only adores them sometimes.
Soon summer fades away to autumn, and Louis finds himself settling into a new dorm room. Liam is on a different floor of his building, which is both disappointing and not. Louis had wanted to room with him, but this also brought an opportunity to expand his horizons. And by horizons, he mostly means he needs more people who will be willing to do his homework for him because Liam simply refuses to be of any actual help in that department. He's unpacking—well, "unpacking." It's really more like him throwing his kit onto a bed and setting his laptop on a desk. Whatever, his space has been claimed, and his roommate hasn't come by yet so it's first come first serve. Whoever it is will just have to deal.
And right on cue, the mystery man arrives. Or it would be a mystery man except for the fact that Louis knows who it is before he's even fully inside. He instantly recognizes that boisterous voice, how it carries down the hallway and is full of glee. The accent also gives it away, and the bleached hair, and really, Louis could spot Niall in a sea of blond Irishmen. The guy actually freezes when he steps into the room, his eyes turning to the size of saucers, and Louis almost panics because he has no idea what Harry has told the guy about what happened. But then he smiles, all bright and genuinely happy to see Louis, and all his fears melt away. Niall drops his bags and runs over to Louis, laughing hysterically.
"Fuck," he shouts, "I can't believe it. How's that song go? It's a small world or some shit?"
Louis groans. "Please don't remind me. I'm suffering from PTSD because of that ride."
They laugh, and Louis is glad that his roommate is Niall even though he is pretty sure that his plans to use him for schoolwork has just got thrown out the window. But there's a thought nagging at him, begging for him to ask, and he forces his mouth shut. He doesn't want to seem clingy, to seem desperate. Doesn't need Niall to think that Louis is some pathetic loser when they're about to spend a whole semester sleeping in the same room together. He doesn't have to bring it up, though, because Niall does it himself. "I'm about to head over to Harry's room. Wanna come with?"
Harry is here. Harry, Harry, Harry goes to this school. Louis' school. And despite what Louis said earlier about the song, it's all that playing in his head right now. Because it fits. It's a world of laughter, a world of tears; it's a world of hopes, and a world of fears. It fits, it fits, and Louis almost wants to cry because what a bullshit song to be comparing your life to. He has spent way too much time in Disney World, Jesus Christ. But before he even realizes what he is doing, Louis nods and follows Niall out the door. They have to cross the lawn to a different dorm, and on the way there Louis begins to panic. This is a terrible idea. Because, okay, the thing is that the two of them didn't stop talking immediately after Harry left. They still continued to text, but the more time passed, the less frequent their conversations became. And Louis became terrified of the day where Harry would stop reaching out to him, the day where he moved on with his life and forgot about the guy he met on holiday. So Louis stopped responding first. And now they're going to see each other again, and Louis almost wants to tell Niall that he isn't feeling it. But that's silly, because they're roommates now and Niall is friends with him. There is no possible way that Louis will be able to avoid Harry when things are like this. So he sucks it up and keeps moving forward.
The room is empty when they arrive. While Louis nervously remains by the door, Niall automatically dumps himself on one of the beds. Louis isn't even sure if that's Harry's or not, but he doubts that Niall cares very much either way. They wait there together for what seems like ages, and Louis is about to suggest that they leave and come back later when he realizes that the blond has fallen asleep. Well, great. Now what? He considers just leaving on his own, but then something catches his eye on the wall. There's a line of photographs taped to the white surface above Niall's sleeping form, and it's Harry. Harry with an older girl who Louis thinks might be the sister that he mentioned having. Harry surrounded by a group of faces, only two familiar and the rest foreign. Harry with a guitar in his hands, his features peaceful as his hand sits over the strings. Harry on a boat with Niall, Harry at a Man U game, Harry sitting in a tattoo parlor. Louis is smiling so hard his face is starting to hurt, and he almost steps away when he spots it. Harry leaning in close to him, a look of surprise on Louis' face that doesn't really befit Peter Pan. Louis quickly scans the wall for any other photographs from the Orlando trip, but no, it's only that one. He isn't sure what this means.
"Lou?"
Louis whips around, his heart racing, and there he is. Harry in a maroon jumper that has a tiny hole near the neckline, in his too tight jeans. He looks startled, and it's understandable; the last person he probably expected to be in his room is most likely him. But here they are, together, with a snoring Niall being the world's worst mood killer. But, whatever, Louis can deal with that. He feels like he can deal with anything right now. "Hey there."
"What are you doing here?" Harry takes a step forward then hesitates, as if he's unsure of just how much space is allowed between them. "This is London."
"I'm not sure if you could tell by my accent," Louis says flatly, "but I wasn't exactly born in the States."
A small smile appears on Harry's lips. "You prat. You know what I mean."
"Yeah," Louis mutters. He says it again louder, "Yeah. I was only staying there for a year, so, yeah. I'm back now. And I guess we go to the same school...?"
Harry swallows then nods. "It's my first year here. It's—you stopped replying. To my messages. This is probably awkward."
And a thought suddenly strikes Louis, something that he should have considered before. He always thought that this, whatever it is, is a one-sided affair. That Harry was just having some fun that night, and Louis is the only one acting like a smitten puppy. But what if that isn't the case? What if Harry had felt it too, and... And. And he's across the room now, grabbing on tightly to Harry's shoulders, and smashing their lips together. It's clumsy, and their teeth hit each other, but then they're kissing. Most people probably wouldn't call it that great of a kiss, with their noses pressing together uncomfortably and the angle not quite right, but fuck it. Fuck it, it's perfect, Harry is perfect, and Louis is a cliché that stepped right out of a fairy tale storybook. He almost wants to laugh at himself, but that would mean he'd have to stop with the kissing, and that is something that must definitely never happen. Except it does, and Harry is backing away far enough so that their lips can't touch, but his fingers still linger over Louis'. His face is thoughtful, like he's putting together the pieces of a puzzle that had been missing until that moment. He's beautiful, Louis thinks, and he almost wants to gag with how mushy he is over this guy.
"I don't know how I feel about you," Louis says. "I don't think it's love. But it's more than a crush, and... And I think it can be love? If I let it be. But only if you're okay with that. I shouldn't have stopped texting you, but I was scared. You were—I barely know you. I don't even know your whole name, although I guess now I know what team you go for, which is unfortunate."
Harry's expression is split between offended and deeply amused. "Styles."
"What?"
He presses their foreheads together. "Harry Styles is my full name. And I'm okay with it. This. I want to see where it goes too, you know? I don't want to grow up without my Peter."
"I'll have you know that my Wendy is a sweetheart and she will be very jealous that you are attempting to swipe her position."
Harry goddamn cackles. "But Wendy gives him up in the movie, doesn't she? She goes back to London with her brothers."
Louis ponders this, then decides that he would rather be kissing. They're all twelve in the story, anyway, and Louis would very much like to do things that someone at such a young age cannot so these comparisons had better stop. He has no idea if this will even work, or if Harry is even his destiny, a concept that he is barely accepting to actually exist. But he hopes so, oh how he hopes so, and they can figure out all those details later. They have the time.