Dalliance

Piano Man

Harry and Louis – ages 17 and 18

Harry always thought that Louis had the most beautiful eyes.

The most telling eyes as well. After two years of knowing each other, Harry prides himself in knowing Louis so well, being able to tell what's going on just by his eyes. He knows him like the back of his hand.

But maybe that's how Elle feels as well. She's been 'with' Louis for almost a year now, close to. Louis says he doesn't know the date they got together, but really, he does, Harry can tell that he does. When he feels this way, when it really starts to get to him, he just holds on tighter to one day.

"Love this part, watch," Louis says tapping Harry's thigh as they sit on the couch watching reruns of Glee.

Louis watches intently as Blaine serenades Kurt with Somewhere Only We Know. Harry watches Louis as he begins to hum along to the song and tap his foot. So easily, as always, they fall into their routine of annoying whoever's home as they sing along with the characters on the show, with each other in harmony. It's a little bit of freedom they have within their glass closet.

Harry smiles and laughs as the song ends and he pulls Louis closer to him, daring to touch him so openly. His heart sinks a little when he thinks about the way Elle can do this without batting an eye. His heart drops further into his stomach when he thinks of Louis doing these types of things with her, their things.

"Do you do this with her?" he asks so quietly, he wonders if he's actually said it out loud.

"Harry," Louis says in a warning tone.

That was answer enough. He does do this with her. He probably gets to kiss her after too. Harry can't do that; he can barely sit close enough for their thighs to touch. It's unfair. Harry tries to push the thoughts and images from his head, but as always, they're burned into his eyelids.

Harry's met Elle a few times. Louis tries to keep them separated, knowing how jealous Harry is. She's alright, Harry thought. She's pretty. Tall, thin, dark hair and eyes. Nothing special, nothing like Louis. She was kind enough, he guesses. She was far too touchy though. Hands all over his boy. She even kissed him in front of Harry. He had to resist the urge to pry her hands off of him and pull Louis away with him. Hiding him. He wanted to, but he didn't dare.

Now he knows that she gets to do the things that Harry wanted to just be between him and Louis. The little things like getting ice cream from that little shop on Saturdays, or sharing jumpers, or singing along with Glee together. Harry thinks she probably goes off and tells all her friends how sweet Louis is, how he's not like the other boys, he's different and unique. Well, he is, Harry thinks, he's in love with a boy. In love with me.

"When are you going to tell her about us?" Harry asks quietly.

"Please don't do this," Louis groans.

"When Louis?" Harry pushes. "It's been a year. You do all the things with her that you do with me,"

Louis sits with his back against the armrest and throws his legs over Harry's. "Not everything,"

Harry doesn't want to ask the question that pops into his head, but he knows it won't go away. It'll swim in his head until it drives him crazy. "Where is the line drawn then? What do you only do with me?" he asks fiddling with the hem of his shirt, not daring to look at Louis.

"I don't want to talk about this. You know I love you, isn't that enough?" Louis asks quietly so nobody wandering around the house could hear.

"No, actually, it isn't. I need to know, Lou," Harry looks up at Louis, but he wishes he didn't. He's met with blue guilty eyes. He knows what that means. He knows, but he needs to hear it.