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

Chapter 23

Louis was assigned to the tour bus for a ten-hour overnight trip to a small town inArkansas. Along with as a handful of the crew, Harry was on the bus with him. He'd sat next to Louis in one of the conventional bus seats on the upper level, saying, “I don't sleep well in the bus. Looking forward to sleeping next to you tomorrow night.”

Louis looked over his shoulder – a makeup artist had headphones blasting and a cameraman was asleep with his slack face pressed against the window.

“I'll come to your room, okay. No more sneaking out of yours.”

“If you're smart enough to make a room look used, I'm sure I am too,” Harry said with a frown on his face.

“I know,” Louis assured him. “I just don't want you to have to worry about it. So I'll come to yours, oui? But if you ever want some time by yourself, just to chill out – I'll sleep in my own room. I won't be offended.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You know everything's about six million times better with you around, yeah?”

Louis pressed his lips together to keep from smiling too big. “Yeah, I know.”

“I am worried,” Harry said after a moment. “Not about rooms, about... some people who watch the show. The ones who are really paying attention to me. At the live show you missed, a couple of audience members had these signs. They stopped holding them up pretty quickly, or maybe someone took them off them. One said 'gay rights' and one said 'Support Love'... but then smaller, down the bottom – 'Harry for equality, equality for Harry'. What's that mean, equality for Harry?”

“We can't know for sure,” Louis said carefully, not wanting to let on how it worried him. “We can only guess.”

Harry sighed. “I've already guessed. They think I'm gay. I've seen similar stuff on Twitter. Some worse stuff. There's not much of it, but... a few people really think I'm gay.”

He said it so sadly that Louis had to give his hand a squeeze.“And they'd be correct,” he added helplessly.“It's not exactly an insult, if it's coming from people who are supporting you?” Louis tried. “How would they even know I am – you know... gay, though?” Harry asked.

Louis just shrugged. He didn't understand the Modern Missionary-watching generation even half as well as Harry did. He didn't know what they'd look for – whatever Louis had normally looked for, he hadn't seen it in Harry. He'd seen something brand new.

“Well, it's not something I need right now,” Harry said bitterly, then let out a low laugh. “Or maybe it is. Maybe the whole world should just find out and then I can lose the show and lose my family and just get on with whatever's left.”

Louis ran his thumb over Harry's hand, ready to drop it the second he heard movement from someone in the bus. “There will be lots left for you. Maybe the people with the signs aren't helping like they think they are, but – it's something, isn't it? It shows that there's people out there who'll support you.”

Harry just sniffed and rubbed at his nose, looking tired.

“Hey, mon petit, you're sleepy.” Louis said, letting go of Harry's hand.

“Je suis... not fatigué,” Harry quietly argued, a cheeky smirk on his face.

“Non, t'es tres fatigué. Trop fatigué!” Louis playfully poked him in his dimple. “I know you, I can tell. Go down and score yourself a good bunk, okay.”

Harry stood up, balancing himself with a hand on the window. “Are you coming down?” “In a bit.”

Louis was the last to retire out of anyone on the bus, taking the one spare bunk left. He had almost fallen asleep when something hit his shoulder. Turning on the reading-light, he realised it was a shoe.