The Rusty Old Minivan

Chapter 26

"Louis."

Louis was lying on the bed, early evening, wondering where his phone was and whether he should find it in case Alvin called. He and Harry hadn't spoken about what had happened the other morning and why that had made Harry give Louis the silent treatment for the entire rest of the day. Louis had been too cautious and Harry - well, Harry had been too damn hard to read.

In the evening, though, when they'd been lying in bed with the lights off, Louis had found the courage to put his lips to Harry's ear and whisper "I'm sorry babe". Harry had replied that Louis had nothing to be sorry for and then they'd been quiet again. After a bit, though, Harry had wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in. Then he'd whispered, as the last thing before they'd fallen asleep, "I'm sorry too. I love you."

So today, the mood hadn't been so tense. Not so hostile, anyway. That wasn't to say it'd been cheerful or chatty or even just normal. In fact, Louis couldn't remember a single interaction between them all day that hadn't started with 'could you pass the salt, please' or 'do you wanna shower before or after me' and ended seconds later.

But it'd been bettering, still.

Now, though, it seemed to have taken a turn for the worse again, judging from the look in Harry's eyes. Standing there at the side of the bed, he was towering over Louis, looking hostile as ever with his hand fisted so tensely around something that his arm muscles twitched from it.

"Harry," Louis pinged back, belatedly, "what? What's in your hand?"

"Your cell."

"Oh. Great, thanks, babe." Louis shifted up onto his elbows, reaching an arm out for the phone, but it was impossible to grab it, because Harry's arm wouldn't move off the side of his body. "Hand it over, then," Louis hissed, "what's the matter with you?"

Harry swallowed, hard, before he finally handed the phone over. "Alvin already called," he muttered as Louis began to check his calls.

Louis' head snapped up. " What? What, when did he-"

"Just now."

Wait. Wait, wait, wait . Louis' mouth scrunched into an O. "Hang on- hang on a minute. You picked up ?"

"Yes."

" You picked up?!"

"Yes, Louis, I-"

"Are you fucking stupid?!" Louis shouted, because he knew Harry wasn't, not by far, and he'd still somehow reached the conclusion in his mind that picking up Alvin's call was an un-stupid thing to do. It was so incomprehensible that Louis might laugh if he wasn't so fucking livid. "You can't pick up for me, he doesn't want to know that I have a man in my house!"

Harry snorted dryly, kicking at the floor. "Bet he doesn't."

Christ. "Harry, would you please- " Louis' patience had never been anything to brag about and Harry's passive-aggressive behavior was getting on it's last nerve already, "please, just tell me if you're mad about something. I apologized to you last night and you told me I didn't need to, but you're still acting like I've done something terrible to you and I– I have , I know that I have, but you went along with it, for fucks sake. So tell me, please , for the love of god, what's going on in your head? Talk to me, man."

"I don't know what to say," Harry replied, staring at the floor, and it looked like the truth, but that just wouldn't cut it.

"Then come," Louis patted the mattress, hard, "sit down," he waited for Harry to comply, "and then please, please , tell me that you didn't just fuck up our last way of gathering the money we owe."