Not So Simple

Chapter One

Month 1

Louis wakes up with a headache and absolutely no remembrance of what happened the night before. He sees through cracked eyes that Harry's sleeping next to him, but that's nothing out of the ordinary. They've just sort of grown accustomed to sleeping with one another. It isn't until he sees he's butt naked that he starts to panic.

He usually sleeps naked, yeah, but not when he's sharing a bed with Harry. Louis tries with all his might to think of what in the world happened last night, though his hung over mind proves to be absolutely no help whatsoever. He figures that maybe getting a shower and some food will help his mind, or his hangover, at the least. Louis sneaks out of the bed quietly, making an effort not to wake up the sleeping boy beside him. His breath catches in his throat as he stares at him. Brown curls splay across his pillow, snores quieted to just mild puffs of air coming out of his mouth. He looks so beautiful that it hurts, physically and mentally, hurts Louis. Louis' known of his feelings about Harry for awhile now. He's not sure when they started, but he knows he always has a little flutter in his stomach whenever Harry looks or touches him. So maybe it's always been there, but Louis just only discovered it. Either way, Harry doesn't feel the same way. He's straight and has even started to put himself back on the market. Louis's just the love struck best friend who'll end up ruining the friendship if he so much as tells a word of it to Harry. So he doesn't, not now, not ever. His mind is already fuzzy and he curses himself for thinking so deeply about the subject right now. Why couldn't he have waited until he wasn't so hung over? Louis stumbles into the bathroom, grumbling to himself. He showers for longer than he should have, and gets out, wrapping a towel around his bare waist. When he steps back into his bedroom, he sees that Harry's just waking up.

"Hey, Hazza," he says.

Harry looks at him with wide eyes, choking on what only could be saliva. Louis' gaze goes down to his waist, confused. He isn't showing anything. Why is Harry so worked up?

"L-Lou, how can you be so casual after all that happened last night? Oh God, I'm so sorry. I was drunk, I swear, I wasn't thinking clearly..."

Louis shakes his head, shushing the boy who looks close to tears.

"I don't even remember what we did last night. Does it have something to do with me waking up naked?" Louis questions, suddenly feeling a bit worried.

"You don't remember?" Harry asks incredulously. Louis shakes his head, smiling sheepishly. "We... I can't say it."

Louis huffs. "Well you can't just leave me hanging!"

"I...It...My head hurts." Harry moans, stuffing his head back into his pillow. Louis rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to put on a pair of boxers and crawl into bed with him. Harry, who must have felt the shift in the bed, looks at Louis with scared eyes

"Haz," Louis says softly. "Just say it."

Harry nods, releasing a shaky breath. "You and I slept together last night."

Louis shrugs. "Okay, we always sleep together." Is Harry really so worked up over sharing a bed?

"Not that kind, Lou." Harry whispers, and Louis' world feels like it stopped spinning. His butt HAD been feeling rather soar, but he thought he'd just been imagining it. He isn't sure how long he's like that, stunned into silence with Harry looking at him cautiously. "Say something!" Harry says desperately.

Louis, despite his initial shock, (he'd had sex with HARRY) reaches to put a curl behind Harry's ear. Harry leans into the touch almost instinctively.

"It doesn't change anything, right? I'm still Louis and you're still Harry." He soothes. Harry nods slowly, a small smile making its way onto his face.