Brother's Best Friend || l.s.

chapter 13

The tension in the air was unendurable. Harry had been offered Louis' bed for the night, which he graciously accepted. The sheets smelt beautifully of Louis, the threads and fibres intertwined with his wondrous scent. Harry realised that it mixed well with the fresh scent of his own hair, which he had washed thoroughly before work that morning, and maybe it was his deluded side that thought of this: the side of him that thought every single aspect of himself could somehow match with Louis. He wanted to believe they were made for each other.

He was still so fucking nervous just being there. They had been in there for approximately fifteen minutes now, yet Harry was too scared to even come close to getting ready for bed. What Louis had been saying that evening was still stirring through his mind: "Haven't ever fucked a guy." "But the guy who paid me to finger him, he came so hard from it, so it must feel really good." "Do you wanna, like..."

Harry had to stop thinking about everything Louis had said that evening, knowing he would get too internally exhilarated and would never be able to sleep.

He sat cross-legged on the top of Louis' made bed, hands resting in his lap, watching as Louis 'set up camp' on the floor with several thicker blankets. He probably should have been making some effort to get ready to sleep but he was just too shy and awkward.

Louis patted down a plumper pillow, setting it perfectly on the little mountain of blankets.

"Looouis!!!" A voice called out playfully from somewhere outside Louis' room. Zayn's voice.

"Shit!" Harry whispered, wide eyes on Louis, asking without words what the fuck to do. Louis pointed to the wardrobe desparetely, so Harry jumped up and opened it, stepping inside at lightning speed and slamming the doors shut behind him, just as Louis' bedroom door swung open. Zayn stumbled in, clearly drunk off his head by now.

"What do you want?" Louis spat, clearly not in the mood for this right now. Harry was holding his breath in he wardrobe, terrified of being found out.

"Was that little Harry who ran off earlier, then?" Zayn slurred, followed by a inquisitive, overly comical hum.

"Yeah, he's okay now. He went home." Louis lied, seemingly very convincingly.

Zayn released a sharp laugh. "You should've brought him back here and let us all fuck him."

Harry's eyebrows crumpled together in both disgust and shock, to the extent where he wanted to burst out of the wardrobe and slap Zayn across the face. He bit down on his finger.

"Don't say that, Zayn." Louis scolded, voice as cold as ice.

"It's just a joooke! Chill out, maaan!" Zayn whined, with contagious laughter ringing out to follow.

"I'm going to sleep now, can you go downstairs?" Louis asked, trying to sound mature.

"Fine! You're so boring, bro." Zayn mocked, before loudly leaving the room, with a slam of the door.

Harry waited until Louis opened up the wardrobe, just so it was definitely safe, and Louis wore a very sorry expression.

"It was so shit of him to say that, I'm sorry, Harry." He apologised, a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm used to it by now." Harry rolled his eyes. He really wasn't used to it, it still made him feel physically sick.

"I should have punched him, really. Don't worry, they won't be coming back up now." Louis assured, returning to his makeshift bed. Harry perched himself back onto Louis' bed, legs folded, heart still hammering from the close call.

All of a sudden, Louis pulled off his t-shirt from where he sat. Harry wasn't expecting it, the tension already too much, and he was pretty sure he breathed in extra hard and tried to subtly look away. The smirk on Louis' face showcased that he had heard the little gasp.