fighting love » l.s.

three - just friends

When Harry woke up, he felt a heavy weight on his chest and he panicked. He couldn't breathe. For a second, Harry was back in that dark, freezing bedroom, completely helpless. He opened his eyes frantically, starting to push against whatever was holding him down, but then he froze.

It was Louis.

His arms were wrapped around Harry's torso and his arms fell limply around Harry's waist. His breaths came in and out as little puffs, his chest pressing against Harry's as it rose and fell. Harry's heartbeat slowed as his chest began to fall into rhythm with Louis's, steadying out his breathing. Louis's head was right below Harry's chin and he suddenly realized how afraid he was to move, worried that he would wake the sleeping boy up.

And for the first time in a long time, it didn't hurt. Louis was touching Harry -- more than anyone had since it had happened -- and it didn't hurt. It felt almost good. His warmth was seeping through Harry's shirt and he could feel the steady heartbeat against his stomach. Harry didn't want him to wake up and realize the mistake he'd made in his sleep. He didn't want Louis to leave him.

Harry had no idea how long they stayed there like that. Louis stirred a few times, but only ended up nuzzling closer to Harry's chest, burying his face in the other boy's neck. Harry's arms tightened around his waist and he wanted to stay there with him like that for as long as he could. He never wanted it to end. He could have studied the peaceful expression on Louis's face for the rest of his life.

Eventually, though, Louis's eyes fluttered open. Harry quickly shut his, hoping that the other boy would think he was asleep. Louis tensed against Harry's chest and Harry could feel his eyes on him as he pretended to be asleep. Louis didn't move for a while, and Harry wondered what he could be thinking about. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this uncomfortable situation. Trying to think of a way to let Harry down easy: to tell him that he's straight, and this was all a huge mistake.

Harry felt Louis carefully lift his arm and he let his body go limp as Louis wriggled out of his grasp and down onto the floor.

"Harry?" Louis hissed, once he had positioned himself on the ground beside the couch. "Harry?"

Harry groaned and rolled over to face him, pretending to have just woken up. "Yeah?" he whispered, trying to stifle his smile.

"When did I move to the floor?" he asked, obviously trying to feign confusion. Harry had to force the smile from his face as Louis's blue eyes met his. Louis was a terrible actor.

"I dunno," Harry replied, putting on his best act as well. "I fell asleep during the movie, so you must have moved after I fell asleep."

"Yeah, I guess," he replied, satisfied. The corners of his mouth turned upward as he wrongly assumed that he had avoided the situation altogether. And Harry was alright with it. He was glad he woke up, though, because feeling Louis in his arms was as warm as he had felt since it happened. He wished he could feel that way all the time.

"Lads?" Niall groaned from the other couch. "Are you up?"

"Now I am," Liam grumbled. Harry looked over and they were both on the floor. "Why are you on the floor?" Liam accused, glaring at Niall.

"I was letting you take the couch," Niall replied with a shrug. "But I guess we both had the same thought."

"My back is killing me," Liam complained. "You're an idiot," he said to Niall, shaking his head.

"Yeah, my back hurts too," Louis added. Harry stifled a smile but Louis didn't seem to notice through his furrowed brow. Once again, a terrible actor.

"Sorry, Louis," Harry said, trying to cover for him. "I would've taken the floor if you'd woken me up."

His face softened when he looked at Harry and he couldn't hide his guilt about lying. "It's okay, Harry, I didn't mind."

Harry grinned at him. "Next time I'll take the floor, yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile, but quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. Harry tried to catch the expression on his face, but he couldn't figure out what the other boy was thinking.

"Alright, I think it's time for breakfast," Niall said suddenly, jumping up from the floor. They all got up to follow him up the stairs and into the kitchen. "What does everyone want for breakfast?"

"You can't cook, Ni," Liam laughed. He looked back at Harry and Louis. "Cereal is your only option."

"I can cook," Harry offered. The boys looked at him in surprise. He shrugged, "I worked in a bakery before I moved here, so I know my way around a kitchen." He didn't mention the fact that he did most of his cooking for himself at home, since his mother didn't want anything to do with him.

"Alright, show us what you got," Niall said, gesturing toward the kitchen. The other boys walked over to the counter and sat down as Harry mulled around the kitchen. He grabbed some eggs and other breakfast foods and started cooking, figuring that they were hungry enough to eat anything. They made casual conversation behind him as he worked, every so often calling out for his opinion. After only a week, they were the best friends Harry had ever had.

Pretty soon, he'd whipped up some eggs and bacon and pancakes. He turned around and presented them to the boys, setting their plates in front of them.

"I'm impressed," Louis commented, raising his eyebrows at Harry. The taller boy blushed shyly, trying to hide his pleasure by smiling at the ground.

Niall was already stuffing his face full of food, but nodded enthusiastic. "You made enough for yourself too, right?" Liam asked, worried. Since the moment they met, Harry felt like Liam had been looking out for him. He'd never had anyone to look out for him before.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna clean up really quickly and then I'll eat," Harry said, turning back around to pick up the mess he had made.

Before he could even put anything in the sink, Louis appeared beside him. "You cooked, I'll clean. It's only fair," he said, bright blue eyes meeting Harry's green ones, sending warmth shooting through Harry's body with just a look.

He grabbed Harry's forearm to stop him from touching anything and, out of habit, Harry flinched violently. Confusion swept across Louis's face and he pulled his hand away from the curly haired boy, studying his face to try to understand his reaction.

Harry quickly composed himself and gave Louis a quick nod. "Great, thanks," he mumbled, scurrying out of the kitchen. His arm was burning where Louis's skin had met his, but not in the usual way. It felt warm, and although he usually wanted to crawl inside of himself when someone touched him, he realized that he wished Louis had kept his hand there longer.