Blood Red Lipstick [L.S.] ✓

Ch. 21; Haven.

"Ok, so, this place opened in the 50's as an invite-only safe haven gay bar for fruits of the male variety like ourselves." Harry begins, lacing their fingers together. "When homosexuality was decriminalised in 1967 this place stayed open because people were still arseholes about men who liked it up the arse. After a while, in 1970, invites extended to lesbians and in 1972 to everyone. This place is called Haven, by the way. Still invite only, you can only get in here if you have the code or you're brought here by someone. Rowan is the current owner, a  twinky and chaotic bisexual he/they trans guy with a penchant for dramatics and high heeled boots."

"And how did you get here?" Louis asks, noticing another thing in the corner near the door. A massive white-washed wall, littered with names through the years in various pens and lipsticks.

Harry catches him looking. "Met Rowan on a park bench when I was like 18. He invited me here cause I hadn't eaten and I kept going back cause it was the only place I could get food."

"Ah." Louis says. 

Just then, a guy who's only like 5 foot 7 comes rushing out of the kitchen, screeching Harry's name.

A/N: it was at this point I realised that I am basically just Rowan. I don't know how I didn't before. 

"Rowan!" Harry cheers as they reach the table, almost falling in the process.

"Axel told Sadie you were here. You fucking haven't been here in ages you little bitch!" Rowan says, slapping Harry lightly on the arm.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry." Harry says as they sit. 

"Who's your friend?" He asks, brushing his dark purple coloured hair away from his face. He's wearing eyeliner, Louis notes. And, yep, this guy is definitely a twink.

"This is Louis." Harry says. 

"Oh so this is the fucking guy you got the t-" Rowan begins, and Harry grabs him in a headlock.

"Shut up, Rowan." He says, and they roll their eyes. Harry lets them go.

"For god's sake, Harold." Rowan yells theatrically. "He's gonna find out when you fuck him anyway."

"Never heard of a surprise?" Harry snaps.

Rowan stands. "The usual? Lyssa's in the kitchen today. Plus our new hire."

"New hire?" Harry asks.

"Yeah." Rowan says. "20-something enby. Ace. Kai. Great at cocktails. The usual, for you and Louis?" 

"Sure, yeah." Harry says.

"The usual?" Louis questions.

"Don't worry, love. It's good." Rowan says, dashing towards the kitchen again.

"Chaotic was accurate." Louis chuckles.

"This isn't even his only job." Harry remarks. "Lawyer, too. He never sleeps."

"I can tell." Louis laughs. "You know everyone here?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm a regular. Friend of Rowan's so everyone knows me." Harry says. "Food's great, the people are nice. I'm yet to meet someone who isn't friendly."

"Your name on that wall?" Louis asks. 

A woman with black lipstick and short hair leans over to their table. "Harry's name is that massive scrawl in the top left with his signature lipstick."

"Yes, thanks Lulu." Harry sighs. "Could of told him myself."

"Well we're just all a bit curious. You've never brought someone here."

"Really?" Louis asks, and a few people turn around too. 

"Oh, yeah." Someone with a shaven head and a badge proudly displaying their they/them pronouns says, turning towards Louis. "He's never brought anyone here. Only regular who hasn't."

"Drinks, H." A guy who looks like Thor says, setting them in front of them.

"Cheers, Dave." Harry says.

"See, he's hooked up with most of the tops in here, but never date. The drag queens over there had a bet going to see if he'd come out as aromantic." Another person buts in. 

"You've lost me £50, Harry!" The one with a high blonde wig calls over.

"Sorry, Polly!" Harry yells back.

Rowan comes back with the food, setting the plates down with a flourish, and everyone else turns around, leaving them alone.

"Sorry about everyone." Harry mumbles, picking up his fork.

"It's cool, Harry." Louis says. "They're nice, I don't mind."

The food is amazing, Louis notices immediately. He can tell why Harry likes this place.

"No, it's. I don't really- it's awkward now." Harry says. "You know, them saying about me being a whore."

"I don't care, Harry. I already knew." Louis tells him honestly.

Harry cackles, and they continue eating. (Louis pretends not to notice the knife concealed in Harry's jacket. He should of known.)

***

"So..." Harry says. They're parked outside Louis' house.

"Wanna come in for drinks?" Louis asks with a smirk. Harry pretends to think about it.

"I really can't, it's getting late..." Harry lies.

"Come on, H. It's just drinks." Louis tells him, placing a hand on his knee. "Just one? I don't want tonight to end."

Harry smiles innocently, nodding his head, biting his lip slightly. "Alright, fine. Just one drink."

"Great." Louis says, quickly jumping out of the car and running around the side to help Harry out. Harry smiles, walking up to the house with him.

"You look great, by the way." Louis tells Harry as he unlocks the door.

"I know, you told me eighteen times during dinner." Harry says, poking his side. "Lulu almost punched you with how sickeningly sweet an cutesy you were being."

"It doesn't feel right to tell you it just once." Louis shrugs, opening the door and ushering Harry in, switching on the lights. Harry takes off his shoes, placing them carefully by the door. 

"Nice house." He remarks, wandering towards the living room.

"Thanks," Louis says. "Zayn did most of the artwork. Insisted I have it."

"He do the massive picture of me?" Harry asks in amusement, gesturing towards the painting above the mantle. Of Harry, in his signature red dress. Maybe Louis sneakily snapped a photo during the first attempt.

"Uh. Yeah." Louis says awkwardly.

"Lucky for you I'm narcissistic enough to love it and fucked in the head enough to not think you're a creep." Harry says, flopping down on his sofa and shedding his jacket. Louis pours him a glass of whiskey.

"Whiskey, really? Where did you even get that shit?" Harry asks, scoffing.

"Can't remember." Louis says, holding it out to him.

"I see." Harry says, patting the space beside him for Louis to sit.

Louis places a hand on Harry's thigh, but Harry pushed him off. "Just a drink, Lou." He says, smirking.