True Colours

A night of desperation

You are a man, Harry. Please dress like one.

Your stomach looks bloated, which is because you ate so much again.

Disgusting. You're just disgusting with your girly nail polish!

You should finally get going, what impression are you making on the others? Do you want to show your worst side straight away?

His parents' words from back then and his own subconscious whirling themselves into a nasty mix in his thoughts without Harry being able to defend himself against it.

He looks critically at himself in the mirror again. Lets his gaze slide over his hair, which he wears partly open and the top half is tied up in a bun. Next over his white, slightly translucent blouse with frills that he has only buttoned halfway, it has lace on the collar and Harry loves how the material feels on his skin. He just bought them recently in the women's department and hasn't had a reason to wear them yet. His legs are in tight black pants and his feet are in shiny black Chelsea boots. He also applied pink nail polish to his nails and he actually thinks he looks beautiful. Actually. If it weren't for the mean echoes of his parents' words from back then wafting through his head.

Insecure, he thinks for the umpteenth time whether he should change his clothes again and quickly remove the nail polish. But he's already late because of his brooding in front of the mirror and Harry hates almost nothing more than tardiness.

Sighing, he finally decides to leave so as not to keep his potential new friends waiting at Jonny's Place any longer. It would just be rude. And Harry just hopes that no one says anything about his appearance, doesn't give him funny looks because he knows it would break him today. Already a nervous eating flash behind him and on edge since the wanking incident a few days ago.

ꔹ⊱❣︎⊰ꔹ

"Harry! Hey!"

Harry looks up, and actually has his eyes on the asphalt below him in order to make himself invisible to the many people who, like him, are ready to start the nightlife. But when he hears Louis' familiar voice and finds him looking over the other people's heads waiting in front of the club, he can no longer hide from the world but prepares himself for how Louis will react to his appearance. Chewing his bottom lip nervously, he walks closer to Louis, who's jaw drops open.

"You look quite pretty Harry," Louis says, shamelessly letting his eyes wander over him and even taking one of his hands and looking at his fingernails.

Harry blushes and looks beneath him. "Um, thanks. Isn't that weird to say as a man to another man?"

Louis laughs and lets go of his hand again. "What? Why? I surely can admit when someone is pretty. And you are."

And here we are again. Harry just doesn't know how to deal with Louis' compliment and it almost makes him dizzy so much he's stressed about it.

"Hmmm okay. You look uhm," Harry searches for words and becomes more and more nervous. He has never complimented men before, simply because it feels wrong. It could directly convey something that he is not.

Louis stands there looking at him amused, but waits patiently until Harry finds his words.

"Okay. You look absolutely okay." he finally tries to save the lame words with a smile while Louis frowns.

"That was an interesting compliment. Now come on. My friends are already waiting for us inside. I just wanted to pick you up out here."

Louis doesn't even wait for a reaction and turns around. And Harry can't help but let his eyes wander over his backside. The plump bum in jeans and a black tank top make Harry take his breath away for a moment before he shakes his head at himself and quickly looks away. What stresses him even more at this moment is the question of whether Louis is angry with him because he is simply a disaster and cannot give a compliment back appropriately. After they pay the club entrance fee, Harry stops him with a hand around Louis' wrist, who turns to him in surprise.