All the pretty girls can't measure to you

Chapter 4

  It was odd really, how strange Harry felt in the light of day. Disoriented, almost. Superficially things felt the same as they always had - Louis’ hand was firm on Harry's back as he guided him protectively through the crowd of fans outside the studio, just like normal. But the stickiness in Harry's pants reminded him with every step that things were decidedly not normal. The dynamic between he and Louis had been irrevocably changed.

  Harry felt caught between a mixture of terror and arousal. He had loved Louis since he was sixteen, and he'd been content to have him as a friend for the rest of his life if that's all that was in the cards, just to have him around. It would've been enough. But this, what had just happened between them, this had the potential to go south at any moment and ruin everything between the two of them. Harry could lose his best friend, and it wasn't worth it. Enacting his wildest fantasies with Louis a few times, even as good as it was, could never be worth losing the boy forever.

  Harry was terrified, his heart was beating out of his chest, he could feel it throbbing behind his eardrums. Harry had never had a panic attack, but he thought wildly that he might be close to one, sitting next to the boy of his dreams as he continuously cracked jokes, making even the interviewer laugh. The laughter sounded far away, he felt himself growing smaller, thought with a sense of horror that he may be about to sink clear through the floor, but then he felt it. Louis’ hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothingly.

  Harry turned slowly to look at the boy, who was staring at him with his head cocked cutely, familiar blue eyes twinkling steadily. Louis smiled at him and Harry's heart lurched, settling back into its proper rhythm. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You wanna take this one, Harry?” Niall asked.

  There was a pause, then Harry stammered, “I'm sorry, wh-what was the question?”

  Everyone laughed and Harry grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night,” he explained sheepishly.

  The other boys looked at him oddly, clearly thinking that he'd gotten more sleep than any of them, but the interviewer repeated her question and things resumed as normal.

  When the interview was finally over, Harry made a polite exit and rushed to the bathrooms, needing a moment alone, away from laughing blue eyes and delicate hands and perpetually tanned skin. How irrational was that, anyway? It was like the sun couldn't resist Louis either, just couldn't stop kissing him everywhere until he was glowing as radiantly as the sun itself. How dare - Harry stopped his rambling thoughts right there, laughing as it sank in just how insane it was to be getting mad at the sun.

  Maybe he was insane. Harry leaned over the sink and splashed cold water over his face, not hearing the door open. He turned to grab a paper towel and jumped at the sight of Louis leaning casually against the wall, watching him amusedly.

  “Alright there?” Louis’ eyes crinkled, a small smile playing over his lips.

  Harry wiped his face. “Yea, good.”

  “Sure?” Louis took a step toward him. “You seemed a bit distracted out there.”

  Harry couldn't think of a reply so he just shrugged, not looking at Louis, moving in the direction of the door.

  Louis was suddenly up in his space, his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry inwardly shook his head - he should've known Louis wouldn't simply accept being ignored. A hand moved to cradle his neck.

  “Hey Hazza,” Louis’ voice was soft, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the side of Harry's neck. “Hey, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable mate, I just thought -” Louis looked away for a second, seeming unsure of himself, which was so unlike Louis. Harry's eyes snapped to his face. Louis spoke quietly. “If you want, we can go back to the way things were, forget this ever happened, it's -”