There For You {Back For You - Prequel}

18 - Some Sort of Angel

AN - Hiya guys!! I just want to say thank you so, so, so much for reading this fic and commenting, and leaving your opinions because it means the world to me, and really brightens up my day when I am feeling down. You guys are just so consistently lovely to me, and I love you so much.

That was so cheesy omg, but I just want you guys to know that I appriciate you!

On a side note right, I babysat for two of my older friends on friday night, and they have two gooooooorgeous little boys (aged 2 and 4) and you know how all houses have like, 'house noises' that you only really hear at night? Well I was babysitting until half past midnight and their house is designed that the living room is above the bedrooms, and I heard like, creaks from downstairs and I wasn't sure if it was just house noises, or if they had woken up, or if there was an axe murderer and I was so worried omg, I was watching Celeb Big Brother on like, volume 6 so I could hear if i needed to call the police.

Turns out they were fine, and it was just house noises...... I just thought that I'd share that with you guys.

I love you all so much, my sweetums!

PS. omg did you know this fic is now longer than Lost and Insecure, but I'm not even half way through this........... whoops haha

The journey back to Harry’s wasn’t long, it just felt like it. Every second seemed to drag for a minute to Louis, as the taxi ambled its way down the streets that were clear of cars thanks to the late hour. Louis was sat with his back slightly to Harry, and he didn’t really know why because Harry hadn’t done anything wrong. However they were nearly at Harry’s house, and it would be weirder now for Louis to try and strike up a conversation, when Harry hadn’t been making any attempts either.

Louis could see the glow of Harry’s phone in his peripherals, and he wondered absentmindedly whether he was texting the girl he had been kissing, or if he was trying to look busy to avoid thinking about the awkward silence that stifled the taxi; like Louis was looking at his fingernails in an attempt to look indifferent.

“So…” Louis finally said, still not looking at Harry.

“Hm?”

“Am I still, um, am I still sleeping round yours?” Louis asked nervously, peering over his shoulder at Harry who was looking back at him, eyes glittering in the dark.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Harry said, as if it was absurd for Louis to think otherwise.

Louis nodded, “We can plan the next time you drag me to a party I don’t want to go to, so I can practice my wingman tactics.” And Louis knew that was bitchy, and he knew he didn’t mean it in the slightest and he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, but it was too late; Harry was already swearing under his breath, and had no idea that Louis meant exactly 0% of what he just said.

“I said I was sorry, Louis, fuck.” Harry groaned, “It was just a girl, okay? I was at a party and I was just kissing a girl at a party! It’s normal! Sorry I’m not in a relationship like you, sorry that I invited you to a party because I wanted to spend time with you, and fuck, I’m sorry that you think I used you, okay?”

Louis didn’t know what to say, Harry was burying his face in his hands and Louis was scared that Harry was going to cry, and he had no idea what to do except breathe a, “It’s okay. I’m sorry, you’re okay.” and lean his head against the window for the rest of the car journey back, ears honing in on the sounds of Harry’s uneven breathes and suffocating silence.

~-~

“Okay, that’s £16.80 thanks.” the taxi driver pulled Louis out of his reverie.

Louis reached for his front pocket to pull out a twenty pound note, but movement from next to him drew his eyes to Harry.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked, staring at Harry’s hands that were rifling through his own pocket.

“Getting money?” Harry replied, sounding confused, looking up to watch Louis.

Louis sighed, and took Harry’s hand away from his pocket and pressed it into the seat separating them, “I’ll pay, okay? Your mum paid for the taxi to the party, so it’s my turn now, yeah?”

Harry shook his head, and they both ignored the taxi drivers annoyed grumble from the driver’s seat, “But I acted like a dick tonight and I owe you.” And before Louis could correct him, Harry was passing his own twenty pound note to the driver and throwing a ‘keep the change’ over his shoulder, before climbing out of the taxi.

“Harry!” Louis called out, rushing around the taxi to follow Harry up the front path, “Harry!”

Harry stopped in his tracks, his hand frozen on his front door, and turned around to look at Louis and, god, he looked heartbroken, “Yes, Lou?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” And Louis hoped that Harry would miss the fact that his voice cracked when he said that, and instead focus on the sentiment, “I was the one who acted like a dick today, it’s alright to say it because I know it.”

Harry swore again, and Louis ignored the interested flutter in his stomach, “Come inside, you dick, it’s fucking freezing out here.” Harry said eventually, opening the door and stepping aside to let Louis in.

~-~

The way Louis and Harry worked was perfect, and by the time they made it upstairs Louis was already curling a finger into one of Harry’s belt loops, and Harry was already laughing and teasing Louis. It’s just the way they work – they cannot, not be friends, it just doesn’t work like that. And Louis was thankful for that.

Once Harry’s bedroom door was closed behind them, Harry was stripping off his t-shirt and jeans, and he was turning his alarm clock off and trying to untangle his duvet covers.

“Anyways, um, yeah the show was amazing and they are so talented, like, their voices are so raw?” And Harry was continuing their conversation from earlier, about the gig in Glasgow, but Louis couldn’t think straight.

This cannot be happening, no, this isn’t possible.

Louis had forgotten to bring pyjamas, and it seemed like Harry was expecting him to just strip off his skin-tight jeans and sleep in his boxers like him; but that can’t happen.

The thought of Harry seeing him, bare, vulnerable, healing scars on show and bruises displayed.

Fuck that, no.

Harry had no reason to know, he didn’t need to know that Louis hated himself, it wasn’t his responsibility to care for him. Louis knew Harry, and he knew that Harry would want to take him under his wing and fix him, but fuck, you can’t fix something that was born broken.

“Do you have any pyjama bottoms I can borrow?” Louis asked, voice shaking.

“I have joggers?” Harry offered, kicking some dirty boxers under his bed, “I usually just sleep in my, ah,” Harry gestured down at his bare thighs and tiny, black boxers. Louis wanted to punch himself in the face so that he couldn’t focus on the way the front of the black material was distorted and pulled across dick.

“Yeah, that would be perfect, thanks man.” Louis exhaled slowly, relief coursing through his veins.

~-~

Once he was changed into Harry’s too-big joggers and a soft, ratty t-shirt that Harry had thrown at his back on the way out, Louis crept back across the landing and into Harry’s bedroom.

“So I was, um, are you okay sharing a bed with me? Tonight?” Harry asked once Louis had closed the door, and taken in the lack of spare bed.

Louis’ mouth went dry, “I… um…”

And no, this was a bad decision, and Louis just wanted to go home because what if Harry brushed against a recent cut and felt Louis jerk from the rawness? What if his shirt rode up, and Harry saw the bruises?

Harry noticed Louis’ apprehension, “You know what, no, don’t worry about it babes, there’s a mattress in the office next door that I can pull in here, if you want?”

And before Louis could even reply, Harry was walking towards his bedroom door, brushing a kiss on Louis’ cheek as he went, and Louis was trying to think what he had done in a past life to deserve Harry; because honestly, he must be some sort of angel.