Fine Line || L.S.

Real Bed, Real Boyfriend

"Eleanor?" Louis called throughout the house when he walked into the door, taking off his shoes.

"In here!" he heard Eleanor call from their dining room.

As he rounded the corner he found Eleanor sitting at the table, looking at her phone, a half-full plastic cup of coffee in front of her.

"Hey," Louis smiled, going to the cabinet. He was parched.

"Hey hon," she smiled at him. "How'd it go with Harry?"

Louis nodded, "It went."

"What does that mean?" she laughed lightly, putting down her phone.

"Well," Louis sighed, "it went in a way that means me and you need to talk."

He watched her as he filled a cup up with water from the tap. He watched her eyes watch him and could feel her anticipation. She had known this was coming.

"One night with Harry," she said quietly, "all it takes."

"El," Louis said, not taking his eyes off her, "I haven't made any decisions yet."

"Did you sleep with him?" Eleanor asked, as even-keeled as she could be.

"No," Louis said, promptly. "No, of course not."

Eleanor nodded, "That's all I could think about."

"Us sleeping together?" Louis questioned.

Eleanor nodded, "It's hard to imagine your boyfriend with another person, much less another man."

Louis looked at Eleanor, and he felt for her. He did. This was all incredibly hard on her.

"I'm sorry," Louis said, "about all of this."

Eleanor nodded, "Who would've thought we would end up like this?"

"Yeah," Louis said, and he knew he, just nine years prior, would never have guessed. For years, Eleanor was his friend. A beard, sure. But, in all honesty, the time they spent together wasn't miserable. She was fun, she had a good sense of humour, and if anyone had to pretend to be his girlfriend for a while, he was happy it was Eleanor.

It was when he and Harry broke it off the second week into Harry's tour that Louis saw Eleanor again, and felt something different about her. It wasn't the same way he felt about Harry—the strong and often volatile emotional and physical responses were absent—but he had real feelings. She knew him, and understood him, and cared for him. It was sometimes hard to find people like that.

Maybe he was at a different place in his life, or maybe it was a change of heart, but he could remember the first night they went from a platonic work-like relationship to a more genuine one, and it was after not being able to see Harry for two weeks. Louis was lonely, and Eleanor understood him in a lot of ways that Harry did, too.

But his feelings for her paled next to his feelings for Harry. Almost completely disappeared.
Louis had never liked labels. Even with Harry, the few times Harry had suggested marriage, Louis voiced his opinions against such strict boundaries labels can sometimes place on relationships. He trusted Harry and Harry trusted him, and that was enough.

Because of his general aversion to labels, the label of his sexuality always seemed to be a point of contention. He had liked girls and guys but had only ever had those strong, overwhelming feelings for a man. The ambiguity of it all seemed to Louis to be a sign that it was a thing not requiring a title, and he was ok with that.

He remembered telling his mom that he liked Harry. At first, she didn't understand. Her only son and oldest child away from home, calling to tell her he liked a boy. At first, she was happy he was making friends. He had to come right out and tell her he and Harry kissed. Louis could remember the brief silence, and then the sound of his mom's voice, undoubtedly smiling, "I'm glad you've found someone you like, Louis. That's all that matters to me."