If You Go Out Tonight

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 The bass pumped wildly beneath the screams of a crowd running on pure adrenaline. Their eyes fixed to the same spot, the same stage, the same man. Each and every soul in the room was entranced by the raw energy exploding through the arena. That was the effect of Harry Styles. 

Louis wasn't immune to this effect, not even after all the years he's spent in love with the curly headed mess of a boy. From backstage, he peered as much as he could without being seen himself. Following Harry around tour without getting caught was exhausting. Late nights pried open with caffeine just to avoid the paps. Sleep was a joke, a dream, ironically enough. The purple bags were subtle, but just below his bright blue hues lied evidence of sleep deprivation. 

Ah, the things you do for love, Louis tries to convince himself. It was worth it to spend even the smallest amount of time with H. The sneaking around and the lies-- they were used to that by now. The media was a starving beast, demanding a catchy headline with a side of scandal. As long as a bone was thrown elsewhere, they would leave you alone for a moment more. A bitter dance, a death waltz, that was the life of a closeted relationship. 

"Thank you all so much. I love you, goodnight!" Harry calls through the sound system, being met with screams of disappointment as the lights dimmed and he sneaked backstage. Even in the dark, Louis could see the outline of the taller boys figure. The little light that was left bounced off of the pink sparkles and sequins on his suit. Louis took small steps forward, but was cut off by Harry's crew. He bit his lip and watched as they made their way onstage to begin breaking down-- painfully slow might he add. The last crew member passed, leaving no barrier between him and Harry. 

Harry guzzled a bottle of water, eyes locked on Louis as he approached. Louis was so full of life, a smile bursting at the seams. Harry couldn't tell why his eyes looked different. Were they truly sparkling just to see him? Or were they merely glazed over in some kind of overworked haze? He couldn't tell these days. They seemed out of sync, their hearts beating in odd rhythms, their thoughts seemingly divergent. Nevertheless, Harry reached out to pull Louis in close. 

He squirmed, his voice bubbly and bright, "Hazza! You're a sweaty mess!"

Harry's eyes rolled but he didn't let him go. His head rested upon Lou's, a rapid heartbeat filling his ears. His hair smelled faintly of strawberry shampoo and cigarette smoke. Familiar. Safe. Comfortable. Home. 

Lou pulled away slightly to gaze upward and place a kiss on his nose. "I was thinking we could go celebrate the last show tonight. A quiet bar? Something small. Just us." His eyes pleading through fluttering lashes. 

A pang hit Harry's heart, catching him off guard. He recoiled and scowled slightly. "I haven't had a night off in almost a week. The last thing I want to do is go out, so don't try that puppy dog look on me." 

"I'm sorry, love. I just really wanted-" Louis began quietly, wringing his hands and not meeting Harry's gaze. 

"I'm not sure you're quite getting it Lou," He snapped, pulling his blazer off and setting it on a chair. "I'm exhausted. I want to go to bed," He asserted with a hand on his hip. 

"Babe, everyone's tired. Just a couple drinks, and we'll come right back. We haven't had any kind of alone time..." Lou pushed, hoping the sudden bitterness would subside. 

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. His blood was pumping with a fiery intensity. "Excuse me?" He scoffed, a palm over his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, stalking toward Lou to close the gap they created. The smaller boy cowered, his frame seeming ever so fragile next to the fire-breathing man in front of him.

Harry lowered his face to his level, "Everyone's tired? Hmm? How about the fact that I've been working my arse off on different stages in different cities every night for months? But no, please, Lou. Tell me about how you're tired."

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