𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤|𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

before

word count - 2184

when harry was 5 years old, his mother passed away. he cried for 3 days, but since then he's been numb about the whole thing. he can't help but feel like she'd be disgusted with what he had become, a faggot in a relationship with his own father. not that he was enjoying himself, but he was still letting it happen. and his dad always said that he knew he enjoyed it deep down, he didn't know whether he did, he was terrified every time but he never fought for him to get off, he just took it.
at 7 years old harry decided to ask his best friend louis when his daddy did it, because harry's daddy had started doing it everyday instead of now and again and he was confused, he figured it happened to everyone but he didn't know if everyday was normal. maybe because he was growing up, or because he had been particularly naughty, not that he could tell when he'd been naughty, he tried his best to be good but his dad always punished him anyway, so maybe harry was just a naughty boy that had to be punished. he thought that maybe if daddy did it enough he'd be a good boy, he figured that was the point of all of it. to turn him into a good boy.
so at break time that day, harry turned to louis and said "does your daddy touch you everyday or just sometimes?", very plainly. as if he'd asked him what he would be having for tea tonight.
louis was very confused, because his dad touched him all the time. he picked him up, and high fived him and held his hand when they went to the park. so louis just shrugged, but when school ended and they were about to go outside to meet their parents louis realised that probably wasn't the touching harry was talking about, why would he ask a question like that? he watched harry hop down the steps and run into his daddy's arms, his skirt flying upwards in the process, he felt sick, he didn't know why, he just felt really really sick. so that night when louis was having tea he told his family what harry had said, and that he was confused. they all figured it was just 7 year olds being 7 year olds, either harry was confused or louis was confused of what he was asked, but jay called social services that night just in case. she'd met harry's father many times, their children were inseparable half the time, she couldn't wrap her head around why cute little harry would ask such a question. social services visited the style's household the next day, they deemed it safe for harry to live in and put it all down to confusion between the two boys.
as they grew up, harry and louis grew closer. and harry grew more fearful of his father, and louis could tell. when he was at harry's house he seemed so jumpy, but harry had always been jumpy. he wore skirts and had his hair braided half the time, of course he was jumpy, he had learned to be. it was sad.
as they got to high school harry started religiously checking the length of his skirt, it was confusing at first but louis figured he didn't want it riding up too high, he wouldn't know, he'd never wore a skirt outside. only when he went to harry's house and they joked around, which was a lot. then harry started waiting for the sea of students to pass until walking to class, louis decided that harry just had anxiety, he talked about it with his mum, she agreed, harry had always been innocent and small, of course he was nervous of other people. so louis decided to wait with him everyday, it was their thing. one day harry admitted it was because he didn't want to touch anyone, but he touched louis all the time. they held hands on the way home, and they hugged everyday, their knees would touch when they sat next to each other on their beds. louis didn't understand, but he realised that maybe it wasn't his problem to understand, he just had to be there for harry and not ask too many questions.
at one of their many sleepovers, as they led there in the dark harry sighed and said "i'm sorry if i always act weird, i just don't want to get in trouble", louis was confused and asked him "what do you mean haz?", that night harry explained in the pitch black that his dad some how always knew of his skirt had been messed up, or if he'd touched anyone, his dad was apparently really overprotective and didn't want anyone touching him. louis thought it was all a bit extreme but it explained why harry was always nervous around his father, he was just really strict and protective.
at parent's evening last year his dad held his hand the whole time, the teachers smiled warmly at the sight, but harry knew it meant something way worse. he knew it was his fault for being so stupid, he knew he'd get punished when they got home. he wanted to run, he didn't want to go home. he didn't want his dad's big, hairy, sweaty hand crushing his all night, but there was nothing he could do about it, and that's what made him the most upset. that there was nothing he'd never be able to do, as he got older he realised that what was happening to him was most definitely not something that happened to everyone.
that night on their way to the car they stopped to speak to louis and his mum, harry wanted to hug louis like he always did but his dad hadn't let go of his hand. so he just stood there feeling his father's weight shifting next to him as they discussed their weekends. harry started crying, but jay and his dad didn't notice, louis however did, he'd always been protective over his feminine best friend, they were the closest they could possibly be, or so they thought. harry had something he was keeping from louis, and as he cried outside the school, holding hands with his dad he realised that it was only a matter of time before louis found out and found himself a new best friend, who would want to associate themselves with someone like him? harry shook it off and told louis he was just tired, which louis luckily bought because harry cried all the time, it was believable.
he shouldn't have believed him though, because harry was really crying about the fact that in around 10 minutes harry would be in his dad's bedroom having to touch himself with his dad's ugly eyes on him, or maybe even touch his dad listening to his warm grunts that make him gag, or maybe even his dad would touch him with his big, dirty hand as harry tried not to let tears slip down his face. he didn't know yet, all of them were possible, and he didn't know which one he'd rather. even the thought of his dad so much as talking to him could bring little harry to tears, like every morning before he goes to school and his dad gives him the threat of what could happen after school if he's naughty.
harry was fucking tired of that, he'd figured out by now that anything he did would be naughty in his father's eyes, he was so sick and tired of not having a proper parent, he was sick and tired of feeling dirty all the time, he'd never truly felt clean, he wanted to know what it was like to be able to walk into his own kitchen without his own flesh and blood slapping his ass or pulling his hair.
he told louis about his "punishments" but louis just said "like grounded?" with a questioning look, so harry just lied and said that's what his dad called it. louis has been very vocal about how strange he found the whole thing, and harry wished for nothing more than to be able to agree with him, he wanted to be able to cry and hug his best friend and feel safe and get away from all he's ever known: abuse.
louis suggested harry went to the school counsellor the monday after parent's evening, he said if he spoke about everything that was bothering him he'd feel better, not everyone "agreed" with the way harry dressed, as if it was something to agree on, and harry was just innocent, he cried all the time and he was scared of a lot of things, louis just wanted to help him.
harry knew it would be a bad idea, 5 minutes in he knew he'd said too much, the counsellor started focusing on his relationship with his dad after harry said something about not liking him. when he left the office he dreaded what would happen that night, he just knew his dad would find out somehow.
the next day harry was ordered by his dad to stay home from school, after a long and scary lecture, that he wasn't "done" with him. he was fucking terrified. he felt so so filthy. louis called to see if they were walking to school together and harry whispered back a "i'm sick sorry" before hanging up. louis was curious but went to school without him anyway, he'd pop round at the end of the day to cheer him up.
that day poor harry was subjected to the worst things he'd ever been put through, he just wanted to put his clothes on. since his dad came back into his room that morning he'd been evil, at first he just led next to harry and played with his hair, harry tried to make his breaths sound even but he knew they didn't, he was praying to every god he could think of that his dad wouldn't do anything else, he knew that was definitely not going to happen, but he wanted to hope.
but then his clothes were ripped off and harry started crying, they were his favourite pyjamas. he was embarrassed about being naked in front of his dad, even though it had been happening for a decade, it was still as terrible as the first time. the disgusting look in his eyes as they scan over his bare skin makes bile rise in his throat.
his father had never ever touched his behind, harry was grateful for that, until today. today his father thrust his disgusting, dirty fingers inside of him with no warning. there were no words exchanged the whole day he had to endure the horrific assault. not that he hadn't been assaulted before, but the whole day? harry wanted to fucking die.
that was until it was half an hour until school ended, harry had been praying all day that louis would come to check up on him, they usually did that for each other.
"look at me you slut", he said pulling harry's horrified face up to look at him by his hair.
"you love daddy don't you?", he said, still pulling harry's curly locks.
harry whimpered but managed to nod his head. he knew from experience that if he did anything but comply things would go even worse in seconds.
"don't you fucking dare tell anyone about what we do together you hear me? you hear me boy? we're in love but no one can know about us, they'll lock us both away, they think our love is wrong. but we love each other don't we? you love being naughty for daddy, you have since you were born. you like this just as much as me don't you?", he screamed, spit hitting harry's face.
harry so badly wanted to say no, he wanted to kick and scream and shake his head. but he knew he'd be killed, so he nodded.
"use your words angel"
"y-yes", harry muttered, hoping he'd leave so he could get some clothes on and cry until louis arrived.
with that his father dropped his head and left the room, harry scrambled up and threw some clothes on, before cleaning up the mess that had been made, the mixture of semen and blood made him want to stab himself in the fucking neck. it was vile, he still wasn't used to the sight of what was left behind even though he'd been cleaning it up since he was in primary school.
that day when louis arrived he knew something wasn't right, harry didn't look ill, he just looked completely and utterly broken. it didn't sit well with louis at all, and that night he spoke to his mum about going over for dinner soon so he could maybe get her to see what harry and his dad are really like at home, because it wasn't normal and he was terrified for his best friend.