Where We Belong

Chapter 14

The first thing Harry does is laugh.

Assuming it's out of disbelief, Louis begins to repeat himself; "I fucked someone el—"

"I heard you," Harry cuts him off. It's sharp, humourless. "I heard you the first time."

He sits up. Louis lies stiff in his spot, watching him, staring at his hunched back, waiting for something, anything, holding his breath for it.

"Who?" Harry eventually asks, his voice scarily toneless.

"Stripper at Zayn's birthday thing."

The only indication that Harry even heard him is the sound of his lips clicking apart. He doesn't move. "Where?"

Louis clears his throat and it hurts, everything hurts, his chest, his stomach, even just looking at Harry. "Zayn's bedroom," he says, "I was drunk as hell, Harry, I—"

"Have you spoken to him since?" Harry cuts right through.

"No!"

A ragged breath falls from Harry's lips. His hands are shaking.

Louis wants to reach out, wants to leap across the mattress and wrap around him, cling to him like Harry did back when he told Louis, but he knows that'll only make it worse.

He stays still.

"Did he fuck you? Like— or was it just oral?" comes the next question, and Harry's voice is lower now. Smaller.

Louis bites the insides of his cheeks, taking a second just to steady himself and keep from crying. "He fucked me," he half-whispers.

Harry's head drops.

"He wore a condom," Louis says, because he can't reach out and pull Harry close, but he feels like he has to do or say something, just anything to make it a little less horrible, "I got tested Monday and it's fine, I'm all cle—"

"So, so when we- when you let me fuck you for the first time again, that was—" his voice cracks and Louis feels like everything inside him does too at the sound of it, "that was the day after you'd- that was the only reason you let me—" he cuts himself off, head snapping up again.

Louis expects him to whip around, yell and scream, maybe hurl a pillow at him or start crying, but he doesn't. He pushes off the bed, walks into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.

Louis' heart won't stop racing, stomach twisted up in knots and Harry's reaction, or lack thereof, could be a relief, but it isn't, it's just really fucking terrifying.

He gets out of bed and knocks the door, calls for Harry several times, but all he gets is 'm takin' a shower and go to bed, Lou-eh.

In the end, he does just that. He doesn't go to sleep though, just lies stiff on the bed, clawing at the sheets, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the shower to cut off.

And, even if he weren't crawling out of his skin with anticipation, even if it were just a normal Saturday evening-shower, Louis would still deem it the longest Harry's ever taken in eight years of being together.

When he finally comes out, he shuts off all the lights before he crawls into bed. When, after a tense minute of silence, he finally speaks again, Louis can tell he's been crying just by the sound of his voice; "you're never going to see him again."

It isn't a question. It isn't even close to being a question. Louis still answers it; "no. Never."

"And you wouldn't... you wouldn't have done this if I hadn't- you'd never have, would you?"