That's Me In The Spotlight {The Jesus Fic}.

Chapter 17

Louis kept his promise and stayed up, watching Harry sleep. If the boy twitched, hinting at a nightmare, Louis combed his fingers through his curls until he was still again.

Louis looked at his bruised hand, moving through Harry's brown hair. How strange to think that hand had punched Patrick Demarchelier and then slid crooked fingers right inside Harry, all in the one night.

Too much happened each day in America, Louis decided. Working back in Paris had been fast- paced and jam-packed, yes, but a time always came each night to drink a bottle of red and fall asleep on the couch.

There was no rest for the wicked in America.

Maybe it wasn't America.Maybe it was trying to keep up with a teenager.Harry had been drunk when he said it, but still. He didn't have to call Louis old.

Louis turned over to his other side. By the soft light of the morning, he inspected his face in the mirror by the wardrobe.

His reflection gave him a satisfied smile. He didn't look old. He looked fantastic.

Louis turned back over to Harry, but the movement woke the boy up and he let in a sharp breath, clumsily sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Mm, we've gotta get up,” he said sleepily.

“Non, mon petit,” Louis reassured him, trying to get him to lie back down. “You've barely had two hours' sleep. No plans for the day yet.”

Harry resisted Louis' tug, clambering out of bed. “Come on Louis, get up, church.”

Louis paused, waiting for the laugh, but Harry wasn't joking. He'd already started rifling through the small hotel wardrobe, picking out an outfit.

Picking out an outfit for church.Picking out an outfit without consulting Louis.

“Why church?” Louis asked, sitting up.

“It's Sunday,” Harry stated, pulling on an undershirt.

“Don't go.” Louis patted the bed. “We had such a late night last night, we need more sleep.”

“No, we need to go to church,” Harry said, shaking out a pair of pants to slip into.

“You don't need to go. You didn't go last week,” Louis pointed out.

“Um, yes, I need to go.” Harry paused his movements to give Louis a semi-scathing look. “And I did go last week, in Austin. Of course I went.”

“Your uncles took you to church?”“No, I took myself,” Harry said crossly. “I'm not a baby, I don't need to be taken places.”

“Right, of course. I'm sorry. Oh, come on mon petit-ami, stay in bed with me,” Louis coaxed. “It's far too early for a Sunday morning. Sundays are for sleeping in.”

“No, Sundays are for church!” Harry argued easily. “That's what normal people do, they go to church!”

“And I'm not normal?” Louis asked pointedly.

“No, you -” Harry looked torn. “You are normal, you just...” He sat down on the bed by Louis. “Look, you don't have to come.”

“I know I don't,” Louis said. Louis caught Harry's chin in his fingers, peering into his green eyes, waiting.

Harry leant in, pressing a closed-lipped kiss to Louis' mouth. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “You're normal.”

“Even though I'm French?” “Yes.” Harry smiled. “Even though I'm old?” “You're not old.”