The Help

Chapter Two

A/N: I'm usually high when I write a lot of the beginning of this story, and I don't remember the original author's note posting for this story, but I think it's either this chapter or chapter three that I am in love with, so maybe this is the one I love. I don't remember. Also. beware drug use.

“Do you want Corona or Budlight?” Harry asked.

“Corona!” Louis replied. Harry grabbed two Coronas and shut the fridge door, walking through the back door to the outside patio where Louis sat in a chair, on Harry's laptop, shirtless. Harry couldn't believe it. Louis was shirtless and wanted to talk to Harry. It was like a Christmas in July miracle.

“Heads up,” Harry called to Louis. Louis looked up and Harry threw a beer to him. He joined him and sat on the other white chair, taking a sip from his beer.

“So,” Harry started, leaning forward in his seat the get close enough to Louis that he could admire his features, “what do you do besides this? Being a gardener, I mean. I'm sure you have another job?”

“Yeah. I'm a drama teacher,” Louis told him. Damn, maybe he was older than he looked. And he's a teacher, he was definitely not into teenagers.

“Oh. Where?” Harry asked, pretending to be interested. He wasn't. Talking to your hot gardener about how they're so old they're teachers wasn't a comfortable thing to do.

“At Cheshire of course. You wouldn't know though, probably. I also have another job, being a gardener and a drama teacher are side jobs. And, no, I'm not telling you my third job because you're a student, and you may not be my student, but that would make me a bad teacher,” Louis told him as he winked at him. God, that melted Harry's heart, how cute that whole speech was, but it also broke his heart to say student.

“How old are you then? Sorry to ask, but you look quite young for a teacher.”

“Nineteen. I am young, but I got my teaching credentials and being a drama teacher isn't so big that I have to be experienced or anything,” Louis replied, waving Harry's uncertainties away. So, he wasn't that old. Harry was sixteen, dating a nineteen year old wouldn't be that bad. Except, who said Louis was even interested in Harry, or even in boys? Harry was just wishfully thinking.

“Can I ask you a question, Harry?” Louis asked, looking into Harry's eyes with a serious expression. Oh shit. That was hot too.

“Yes?” Harry swallowed. Louis going all serious was so attractive, but the fact that he had a serious question kind of scared him. What did he need to ask at that moment that was so series?

“Do you smoke?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Cigarettes? No.”

“I was thinking more like, weed.”

“Oh. No.”

Louis looked him up and down and smirked. “I was going to convince you that you could tell me if you were, but I looked up into your face and practically was faced with the realisation that you of all people would not be a stoner, especially not with your baby face!”

Baby face? Was he flirting or was he telling Harry subtly that he was too young for him?

“Hehe, yeah,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck and taking another drink of his beer. He was always one to get pissed easily and he could feel the liquor getting to him.

“Do you want to try smoking?” Harry looked at Louis, surprised. “I mean, you said your dad wouldn't be home until later, I assume that's not until tonight? There's plenty of the day left, your dad will never know, and getting a little high won't hurt you.”