Work Text:
Harry loved going to work, and not because he loved his job.
He didn’t wake up an hour earlier than necessary so he could fix his hair and choose a decent outfit to impress the 12 to 18 year old boys that he taught music to; an outfit that always included a pair of painfully tight jeans and a loose tee, no matter how many dress trousers and shirts his Mum had bought him over the years.
He didn’t practice his smile and hellos to the mirror so that the kids would pay attention to him in class. It did help in that department though, always earning him answering grins from usually restless boys. It may have led to a few crushes, too, but there was nothing Harry could do about that. Except maybe wear looser clothing and swap his dimply smile for an intimidating glare, but he just wasn’t that kind of guy.
Besides, if he did those things, there was no way Louis would notice him, and those few minutes that Harry got to see him in the staff room were the only reason he hated weekends and holidays.
Mr Tomlinson was the Physical Education teacher, and boy oh boy did Harry want to be educated physically by him. He was strikingly beautiful and cheeky and smirky and it was all slowly killing Harry. It felt like it, anyway, the way his heart would stop in his chest when Louis looked at him, or how he choked on the lump in his throat when Louis said good morning. Despite Harry’s morning practices, he still hadn’t managed to get out a greeting in return. Harry was more likely to throw up his breakfast then spit out a single morning back.
But maybe today would be different. Maybe, when Louis came into the staff room for his coffee, Harry would be able to say it.
Harry hadn’t realised he was watching Louis quite so obviously until the man looked over to him and smiled. And walked over to him, mug clasped between his hands, lips pursing through the steam to blow. He plopped down on the only seat free at his table and grinned. “Morning, Harry!”
“Is? Yes, good. Good.” Harry got out, and grinned back because that was a new personal record.
“I’m glad.” Louis said back with a little shake to his head, and Harry tried to do the smile he’d practiced. The one where both his dimples would come out and his cheeks would round out perfectly and his very best teeth were on display; only eight of the ones at the top because they were the whitest and straightest. “Are you alright?”
And Harry’s face fell, because that was clearly concern in Louis’ voice and crinkling in his eyes, meaning his smile had been the manic one he’d desperately wanted to avoid. “Uh, yes?”
“You have your first choir practice after school, right?”
“Huh?” Harry asked, because it sounded like Louis knew something about his life and he was just about ready to do a little dance in his seat.
“Liam mentioned it yesterday, how you’re running it this year. It’s pretty cool that you get to do that, what with this being your first year. I was so excited that I got to coach the football team in my first year so you must be buzzing.”
“Yes. I is – going. Got to go. Class.” And after a swift stand that had his chair crashing back onto the ground and the table rocking hard enough to spill a bit of Louis’ coffee, Harry was running out of there. Fuck my life.
Harry had to cringe at the sound assaulting his ears. All of these boys were the best singers in the school, but they sure did sound terrible together.
“Can we do a scale, please?” he yelled over their droning, and they all stopped and nodded eagerly.
“Anything for you, Mr Styles.” one of them said, and the rest all burst into laughter.
“Uh, thanks Niall. After me on three.” And the noise that came out of their mouths was just a little better. He walked around the room, between the boys all standing in jumbled groups on the carpeted floor, and began to move them about as they sang. He moved the younger boys with higher voices into one group, the trebles, and the ones who were clearly struggling with the higher registers into another one, the tenors.
Harry wasn’t surprised by the small number of trebles, considering most boys’ voices had broken before they even hit 14. He was, however, surprised by how many tenors there were.
When Harry went to St Anthony’s a few years ago, he was one of only three boys over the age of 16 that were in the choir. They copped a lot of shit for it, but they loved it enough to stay. Now, standing before him, there had to be at least fifteen. Apart from them, there were six tenors under 16, and nine trebles that looked to be about 12.
Harry counted as they sang, and when they stopped, Harry gave them a grin. Which Niall returned in a leery kind of way, but he was going to ignore that.
“I’ve sorted you into tenors and trebles. You all know what they are, don’t you?”
About ten boys nodded enthusiastically while the rest shrugged or shook their heads.
“How many of you were in the choir last year?”
Only six out of the entire thirty plus put their hands up.
“Who has been in a choir before?”
A couple more hands shot up, but the rest of the boys just shrugged and murmured things under their breath.
“Well, shit.” He was dumbstruck. Why was it this year of all years that these boys were showing an interest in singing? And how was Harry meant to get them to place in any of the competitions when the only things most of them knew were the basics taught in music class? A lot of them didn’t even know that. “Who knows how to read music?”
There was more grumbling and shrugging but no more hands went up. Then Niall yelled out “It doesn’t matter though, does it Harry?”
“Mr Styles.” Harry interjected.
“Yeah, whatever Harry. It doesn’t matter because we all know how to sing and hit the notes and stuff. So like, can’t we just get along with it and win some local competitions so we can travel around a bit to win bigger ones?”
Harry blinked and crossed his arms. “Is that why you wanted to join the choir, then? To win competitions?”
“Not me, Harry. Would you like to hear my reason?” Niall was grinning in a way that made Harry blush.
“No, thank you.” He muttered, and looked around at all the boys in front of him. “This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. Just because I’m new, doesn’t mean I’m going to be a pushover. I’m going to work you hard. If you’re going to place in any of these competitions, we’ve got a lot to do. If you are expecting this to be easy, then you might as well leave now.” The boys looked around at each other, daring the others to leave, and nobody did. Which was a shame, because Harry was hoping some of them would. He wasn’t getting paid for this, he’d just offered because Liam had begged him with promises that it would just be an hour of extra work a week; that he couldn’t afford to hire someone outside the school to do it.
“There’ll be fifteen boys, tops.” Liam had said, with his pleading puppy eyes that Harry still couldn’t say no to. It didn’t help that Liam had got Harry the teaching job in the first place; he couldn’t really deny his mate the favour.
He was terribly tempted to call the whole thing off, though, as he looked around at the boys that were pushing each other and snorting out laughter from behind their hands. “I’m not going to lie to you. The chances that we’ll win anything are slim. This isn’t Glee, we aren’t going to be dancing about and having fun and singing pop songs. Nothing in our song list was written this century. There’s even some Latin songs on there. This will probably be just a big waste of your time and mine.” He waited silently for another beat, but none of the boys made a move towards the exit. “You’re all really sure you want to do this? Give up an hour of your time every Wednesday to practice, maybe even some lunchtimes? Not to mention the actual competitions and occasional performances on assemblies? In front of the whole entire school?”
The boys fidgeted at that, looking to their friends with uncertain expressions or cringing back at Harry, but still none of them left. “I guess this is happening then.” Harry sighed, and a few of the boys nodded eagerly back. The others looked just as upset about it as Harry.
He asked Liam about it the following morning, how he got stuck with so many boys in the choir this year.
“Why didn’t you tell me I’d have so many?” Harry asked, straight to the point. He’d gone in early enough so that he could still get his morning coffee in in the staff room before his first class. He couldn’t miss his few chances of seeing Louis.
Liam frowned. “I didn’t actually know.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t know? I thought you ran the auditions.”
“Well, no. There weren’t any auditions. We’ve been struggling to get the numbers up for years, so it’s just been open entry.”
“Well why is it this year of all years that they all want to join? Could you tell me that at least?”
“I can’t Harry, sorry. I don’t know what it is. It could just be because you’re the one that’s leading it this year instead of Simon. Every student in this place was scared shitless of him.”
There was a soft knocking on the door, and Liam sighed. “Could you get that, please?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course, Principal Payne.” Considering he was still annoyed about the whole thing, it was no surprise that he wrenched the door open a little too hard. What was a surprise, though, was the person standing in front of him. “L-L- Is – umm?” he stuttered out, because Louis was wearing tight chinos today with a plain tee, one that hung loose across his collarbones, and there was just so much golden skin on display that Harry could barely contain himself.
“Hey Harry, mind if I come in?” Louis asked with his toothy crinkly smile, and Harry took a step back to let the boy pass. Louis put his hand on Harry’s shoulder as he walked by, and Harry was fucked because now he was going to spend all day wondering what that meant.
“Harry, do you mind waiting outside for a second?” Liam asked, and Harry nodded.
Then he shook his head and looked Liam directly in the eyes, trying his hardest to pretend Louis wasn’t there. “We’re done now, I think. I’ll talk to you later.”
“See you in the staff room, Harry!” Louis said sweetly, and Harry’s widened eyes snapped over to meet perfect pretty blue ones. “Save me a seat, will you?”
To which Harry so eloquently replied with one of his snorting laughs, with knee slapping and all.
“Close the door after you, please.” Liam said pityingly, and Harry was just about ready to cry.
He almost did when Zayn asked him about his talk with Liam.
“So what’s with all the new choir geeks?” Zayn asked as soon as Harry sat down. For an English teacher, he really limited his vocabulary.
“Liam doesn’t know, he didn’t even get them to audition because he was expecting low numbers. Now I’ve got my music room filled with jocks that can’t go five minutes without punching someone’s arm or farting. It’s intimidating for the littler ones.”
“You can always kick them out, you know? Give you less of a workload.” Zayn suggested.
“No, I don’t think that will be fair. Shouldn’t I be happy that these kids want to learn more about music? I should give them a chance, I guess. Besides, Liam wants them to sing some Latin song for the school mass in a few weeks; I doubt there’ll be many boys willing to stick around for that.”
That made Zayn grin and shake his head. Then he looked up over Harry’s shoulder, and his grin widened.
“Louis’ behind me, isn’t he?” Harry asked, and Zayn didn’t even get to answer before there was a hand slapping down on his shoulder.
“I sure am, Harry! I heard you’ve got quite a lot of boys in the choir this year. That’s exciting, isn’t it?” Then Louis was sitting down in the chair beside Harry and grinning at him expectantly. So Harry nodded, and Louis grinned wider. “You must feel quite good, then. A lot of my boys from the football team have joined, and they’re all very excited about it.”
“Niall.” Harry got out, just one word from the string of them that he’d wanted to say.
“Yeah, Niall is one of them. He’s the most excited. I think he’s got a crush on you.”
“You think? He’s made it pretty bloody obvious!” Zayn laughed, and Harry could feel his face go red hot.
“I’ve got – going? Yes, yes.” Harry muttered before any attention could be drawn to his beetroot cheeks. But as he stood, Louis followed him up.
“I’ll walk you!” Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, but Louis just said “I insist!”
So Harry nodded and began to walk while Louis was still gathering his things from the table, hoping to get out of there before Louis could follow him. As much as he wanted Louis’ attention, he knew that the more time spent with Louis meant more chances he had to make an idiot out of himself.
But despite Harry’s big steps towards the exit, Louis caught up easily.
“Where are you going now? The music room?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded. “Cool, I haven’t got a class until nine so do you mind if I sit around and watch you set up? You’re always heading to your room so early, you must have a lot to do! Maybe I could help.”
Harry nodded, but inwardly he was swearing something nasty. Every morning, after he rushed out of the staff room when Louis showed up, he would walk around the halls or just sit about in the music room until he got his first class at about 10. What was he going to do now to make himself look busy?
He was still frowning in thought when he heard an all too familiar voice shouting “Looking good, Harry!”
“It’s Mr Styles!” Louis barked, and Niall’s eyes widened in shock. They were nothing compared to Harry’s though. “Are you going to apologise Horan?”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry.” Niall stuttered.
“Sorry, what?”
“Sorry, Mr Styles sir.”
“For?”
“Sorry, Mr Styles for calling you Harry.”
“That’ll do. Carry on, Horan.” Louis said, and started to walk. When he realised Harry wasn’t moving, he turned around to grab his arm and pull him along. Then he said something, but Harry was too busy staring at the fingers wrapped around his bicep. “Harry?”
“Yes?” he choked out, and Louis smiled.
“I just asked if that was alright, what I just said to Niall?”
“Oh. Yes, it’s good. Nice, yep.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure if you let your students call you Harry or not, so I could have made a huge tit out of myself just now.”
“No. No tits.” Harry said, shaking his head quick.
Louis grinned. “Yep, no tits.”
And Harry frowned, until it clicked. “I meant like, no, you didn’t make a tit out of yourself. I wasn’t like, making reference to how you’re titless. I know you’re a boy. I like that you’re a boy. I mean, man. You’re a man with no tits.”
Louis laughed then, and it was only for a second that Harry wanted to crawl up into a ball and disappear because then he was laughing too.
“You speak a lot of shit sometimes, Harry.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, it’s funny. I like it. Are you going to the dance Saturday?”
“You’re asking me to the dance?”
Louis smiled and Harry most definitely wanted to die. “If I wasn’t chaperoning, I would definitely ask you.”
“Oh, yes, fuck. I’m chaperoning too.”
“Liam’s being a real ass about it, isn’t he? He’s been on my back all week about clearing out the gym store room to set up the DJ booth in there. Apparently the girls at St Anne’s are coming to this one. It’s been the first time they’ve accepted the invitation since our boys pulled that prank on them.”
“The slip and slide in their halls? I was going here when that happened. The whole school had to attend a week long Love and Respect camp.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, I wish I was. It was terrible. They practically killed us with drills and early starts and activities that were punishments passed off as learning exercises.”
Harry didn’t realise what was going on until he stopped, that he had been able to get actual words out in front of Louis and that Louis was listening to him with a little smile on his face. His stomach was rolling when Louis asked “How long ago was that, then? You can’t be much younger than me.”
Harry blushed and shrugged his shoulders as he willed himself to speak without fucking up again. “I’m 21.” He did it.
“You came straight out of Uni then? You got a job here, at this school, and you only just graduated? I’m impressed.”
“I – yeah? I know Liam. He was the principal when I went here, and I was his favourite student so that helped.”
“I think that helped him more then you. You’re a great teacher, the kids love you.”
Harry blushed and shrugged his shoulders. How was he meant to reply to that, really? Harry never knew what to do with compliments.
“I think they love you a little too much, to be honest.” He added with a grin, knocking Harry with his shoulder and making the boy stumble. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t realise I was that hard.”
It made Harry giggle embarrassingly, because hard.
Annoyingly enough, Louis cottoned on to what Harry was laughing about. He rolled his eyes and said “Oh come on. I’m not hard at the moment, maybe later. When you fell just now it gave me a perfect view of your perky little ass. Good material, that.”
“Material?” Harry squeaked out, feeling his face go hot and his stomach clenching up and his heart short circuiting.
Louis just grinned toothily back, until a boy came running at them and gripped on to Louis’ wrist. “Mr Tomlinson, can I talk to you?”
Louis side eyed Harry and asked “What about?”
“You know, what we learnt about in P.E. yesterday?” the boy said, then mouthed what looked like eggs.
“Yeah, I guess.” Louis sighed, and sent a little apologetic look to Harry. “I better take care of this, could be an emergency. The perks of having to teach health is everyone comes to you with their sex questions.” He was rolling his eyes to Harry, and the young boy’s face grew redder and redder. If Louis had noticed the kid’s embarrassment, he sure wasn’t showing it. “I like to think I’ve prevented a whole lot of accidental pregnancies in my three years of teaching.”
Harry smiled back because it looked like Louis was quite proud of his joke. “Okay?”
“I’ll probably see you at lunch then.”
Harry watched as Louis left him with a little wave, and may have stared at his ass for longer than necessary. Which was fair, because Louis had admitted to looking at his. The realisation hit him like a freight train, and Harry choked on his tongue. Louis liked his ass.
---
It felt weird, being at a school dance. Harry never went to them when he was at school, and they were a lot different to what he was expecting. If he was honest, he was expecting the Time Warp and Macarena to be playing on a loop like they had in his Primary School dances, not this eardrum-busting pop music. There were about four girls to every guy, and the boys looked like they didn’t know what to do with themselves. There were large groups of girls all dancing in a circle, flicking their hair about and pouting to no one in particular. Then, there were groups of boys ogling said girls, pushing each other in encouragement.
It felt like Harry was witnessing a miracle when one of the boys finally plucked up the courage to ask a girl to dance. He’d sauntered over to her, tapped her on the shoulder and when she span around all of her friends stopped dancing to watch. The boy whispered in her ear, and she nodded, and then he took hold of her hips and they began to sway. It was all quite cute, really.
Except then, it was like the dam was broken and there were boys asking girls to dance left, right and centre; Harry couldn’t keep track of all the couples.
“Excuse me?” someone said, and Harry turned around to face a rather tall girl. She had straight strawberry blonde hair and fair skin.
Harry smiled. “Yes?”
“Would you like to dance?”
“With you?” Harry asked, jaw dropping.
She flicked her hair and smiled sweetly. “Yes, with me.”
“I’m – sorry, I’m a teacher.”
She eyed him up and down again, and with a pout turned on her heels and disappeared into the crowd. He was still staring at the space she’d been, mouth still opened and eyes still wide, when he heard laughter from beside him.
“You’ve still got it, Mr Styles.” Niall said with his usual cheeky grin.
“I don’t look eighteen, do I?”
“’Course not. One could only dream of the chance to dance with you. How ‘bout it?”
“Y-you’re asking me to dance too?”
Niall shrugged. “You look like you want to. You’re standing over here, wagging your hips and nodding your head; it looks like you’re desperate for it. I thought I’d offer up my services as a dance partner.”
“Niall, I’m your teacher.” Harry sighed, and Niall continued to grin at him like this was a totally normal student-teacher interaction. “Go find someone your age to dance with.”
“Alright, just know the offer is there.” Niall was skipping off so quick that Harry was alarmingly unsettled. He shouldn’t feel this hurt because a student who was meant to have a crush on him put up no fight whatsoever, but he did.
With a shake of his head, Harry was back to watching the students in the hall. Things had changed drastically in the last ten minutes or so, with hands having moved from girls’ hips to their asses and tongues having found their way into others’ mouths. Harry got to those ones first, pushing them apart and sticking a ruler between their stomachs. “You’ve got to be ten inches apart!” he yelled over the music, and the students just glared at him and rolled their eyes.
It got a bit fun after a while, watching out for teen couples that were getting too close. It sounded a lot more pervy then it was; he was beginning to feel a bit like a policeman watching out for crime. As soon as a boy began to lean in close, Harry was there with his ruler.
When his area was clear of kissing couples and instead was full of disgruntled teens, Harry could relax back out at the side of the gym. He was nodding his head along to a song, mouthing the few words that he knew, when he spotted Louis.
The golden god was filling cups of water from jugs and handing them out, grin so wide on his face that his eyes looked squeezed shut from this far away. Harry could only watch, mouth agape, when Louis slid his thumbs under his suspenders and pulled at them, for seemingly no reason at all. It meant his trousers were pulled up just the slightest so they rode up his ass a little, and Harry choked on his tongue.
“Harry!” he heard, and his attention snapped back to Zayn.
Who was grinning like an idiot. “Keep an eye on the kids, mate.”
“But, Louis.”
“He’s not going anywhere.” Zayn replied. “Neither are your eyes, apparently.” He gripped Harry’s jaw and pulled his face away so he was forced to look at the kids in front of him.
Who had all gone from swaying to grinding; it really hadn’t taken them long.
Harry sighed and pulled out his ruler from where it was tucked in his jeans. Pushing kids apart had lost all its charm once Harry had realised there was something much better to look at.
So he did it in record time, jutting his ruler between bodies or simply pressing against the boys’ shoulders until they stepped back a bit. He’d occasionally sneak a look at Louis, trying to admire without getting stuck looking. It was becoming harder and harder to tear his eyes away from his messy fringe and tight trousers and even how his shirt was rolled up to his elbows so that his forearms looked so long and smooth and soft. Harry desperately wanted to touch.
“You alright, Harry?” a voice broke through his trance, and Harry looked to Niall who was dancing against a boy.
“Step apart, please.” Harry said, trying to get his ruler between the two but there wasn’t any space to. Niall’s chest was tight against the other boy’s, his hands pressed into the boy’s ass cheeks, and their hips were moving together back and forth and round and round. Harry put his hands on the smaller boy’s shoulder to signal his presence, hoping that the other one would have the sense to listen to him, but even that kid wasn’t having any of it. They just looked up at Harry with grins on their faces as they continued to grind against each other. “Niall, stop that. It’s – you’re at school, and you’re not allowed to do that at school.”
“Do what, Harry?”
“Touch people like that. It’s against the rules.”
“Am I not dancing how I’m supposed to be dancing?”
“No.”
“Would you like to show me how we’re meant to be dancing?”
“What? No!” Harry couldn’t stop himself from getting flustered from the way Niall was wiggling his eyebrows and rolling his hips suggestively.
When Harry felt hands on his hips he jumped and spun around on the spot and could have passed out because it was Louis in front of him, in all his suspendered glory.
Louis’ hands returned to Harry’s hips, gently squeezing. “Like this, see?” Louis nodded down at the gap between them, and added “Ten inches, that’s the rule.”
Niall sniggered. “Ten inches? I bet.”
“Stop that!” Louis snapped, glancing up at Harry before looking back to Niall. Harry felt so hot he was worried that his face was going to explode. “Stop talking to Mr Styles like that! Show some respect, he’s your teacher.”
“Does he feel nice, Coach?” Niall asked, and both Harry and Louis looked down to where Louis’ hands were still on his hips, fingers having somehow found their way under Harry’s shirt to touch bare skin.
Louis pulled his hands away quick and grabbed Niall’s arm. “Right, you’re out of here.”
Harry just watched as Louis dragged Niall out of the gym, ignoring his protests and promises of never doing it again. He was still in the same spot, in the middle of a group of sweaty dancing teens, when Louis came back.
Louis was sending Harry small smiles and the other boy just stared back, totally lost for words. Until one hit him. “Thanks.”
Louis’ smile widened and he nodded his head. “That’s alright. It just makes me angry, the way he talks to you.”
Harry nodded silently, and watched as Louis stuck his thumbs under his suspenders again, playing with them as if he was nervous. Which made Harry nervous. He looked around them, at the kids that were inching closer to each other, but weren’t yet close enough for the ruler. Harry ambled his way over to the side of the gym, away from the dancing bodies and prying eyes, and Louis followed.
“I didn’t like, overstep boundaries or anything did I?” Louis asked, and Harry cocked his head.
“What?”
“Like, was that too far? Kicking Niall out?”
Harry shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”
“Do you really not mind, or are you just saying that?”
“I really don’t mind. I guess it was good, even. I don’t like being treated like I’m young.”
Louis nodded quick, eyes widening in recognition. Like he was catching what Harry was throwing. Which was good, because Harry wasn’t even sure himself. “Yeah! That used to really piss me off, my first year. I tried to be their friend, but got annoyed when they treated me like one. You know, called me by my first name and flirted with me and stuff. It doesn’t feel good when they treat everyone else with respect and not you, just because you’re young and pretty. The shit that used to come out of their mouths, let me tell you.” He added with a shake of his head and a sad little smile. “I just can’t let that happen to you. But, if you don’t mind then just tell me to stop and I will. Like, if I’m actually being patronising or something, let me know.”
Harry had just stood nodding the whole time, but when Louis stopped speaking he squeaked out an “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “It does upset me, when they say those things. I guess I just find it hard when they don’t listen. It hasn’t been all that long since I was in school. When they treat me like one of them, it’s hard to remember that I’m not.”
Louis’ hand found its way on to Harry’s shoulder and squeezed it, reassuring. Maybe Louis had mistaken Harry’s downcast eyes as sadness, when really it was just the only way Harry could get words out clearly and without stuttering. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I better be getting back to the drinks table.” He sighed out, and Harry looked up to meet his eyes.
“Alright. See you later.” He said from underneath his fringe, and Louis gave him a funny little smile before he left. It was a weird mix between sad and hopeful; Harry couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.
And he tried to, in between watching out for naughty teens getting too close to each other and avoiding the grabby hands of girls who didn’t know his age. He tried to work out where Louis had been when Harry had gone up to Niall, how he got there so fast when Niall was giving Harry cheek. Why, instead of telling Niall to bugger off, he’d grabbed Harry’s hips to show the young boys how they were supposed to be dancing, and kicked Niall out of the dance when he said those suggestive things.
His heart was telling him that Louis had a crush. That he’d got jealous and protective when Niall made those remarks. That when he put his hands on Harry’s hips it was a clear-as-day way of saying mine. It reminded him of all the little understated compliments Louis had dished out, about Harry being pretty and impressive and bright, and how genuinely happy he was about Harry leading the choir.
But then his brain just had to bring him back to reality; told him that Louis was just that sort of person. He was kind to everyone, and protective in general. He just didn’t want to see Harry get stepped all over by the kids at school, didn’t want what happened to him to happen to Harry. He only said nice things because he wanted to get Harry out of his shell; he probably thought that Harry didn’t like him and was trying to change that.
Because that’s just how things were in the real world. You crushed on a person, and they liked someone else; they liked you as a friend and nothing more.
So Harry ignored that little part of himself that screamed out See when Louis waved to him from the drinks table, and made himself look away.
Louis just wanted to be liked. That was it. All of Harry’s awkward mutterings and disappearances in the mornings were giving Louis the wrong idea. He thought that Harry didn’t like him, not that Harry liked him too much.
And that just meant that Louis was going to be painfully nice until Harry was his friend. That the more Harry ran away, the harder Louis was going to chase.
Harry was going to stop running. When Monday came around, he was going to sit in the staff room until Louis drank his coffee and left. He was going to smile at Louis and get out a proper good morning until he went back to being the boy Harry had a mild crush on. Until he could go back to watching Louis while imagining their life together instead of convincing himself that it could become a reality.
---
Harry was trying his hardest to talk to Louis. When Louis sat down beside him in the staff room, before school and when he didn’t have some kind of sports team to watch over at lunch, Harry would smile and get out some kind of greeting. It always made Louis grin wide and launch into a conversation about something silly, and it was nice to listen to his voice for a while.
It was the morning after the second choir practice, when Harry was talking to Zayn about how terribly it had gone, that Louis made an interesting observation.
“It’s funny, isn’t it, how the year after you graduated, I started working here.”
Harry cocked his head. “Is it?”
“It’s pretty cool.” Zayn nodded.
“Yeah, I thought so. I wonder what we’d be like if I’d started a year earlier, or you graduated a year later? It might be ten kinds of awkward between us now if that happened.”
Zayn shrugged. “Not really. I was teaching here when Harry went, and so was Liam, and we’re still mates.”
“Yeah, but. It’s different, isn’t it? Me and Harry are different.”
“How so?” Zayn asked with a little smile, glancing over to Harry, who felt like he was going to combust. He had so many questions, but most of them were along the lines of What the fuck does that mean?
Louis shrugged and Harry wanted to push his shoulders back down until he answered properly, none of this shrugging business. He needed words, but Louis wasn’t giving any.
“What do you mean?” Harry rasped out, and Zayn looked at him with something akin to shock. He hoped his eyes weren’t doing that crazy thing they did sometimes, and he didn’t even want to think about the colour his face must be.
But Louis just shrugged again. Then leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. “What were you like in school? I can’t really imagine it.”
When Harry made no move to say anything, Zayn answered for him. “He was the sweet kid that helped everyone. He tutored other students and held the door open for teachers and always offered to show around the new kids.”
Louis smiled fondly. “I’m not surprised.”
“I was a massive nerd.” Harry said with a pout. “I was a choir geek and in the chess club and the only sport I was any good at was table tennis.”
“You weren’t a nerd.” Zayn frowned.
“I was. I used to stay back after school to help the librarian sort the books. I still do that sometimes, even now. You were a jock, I bet.” Harry said, peeking up at Louis for only a second, not quite sure he wanted to know what was written on his face. He could guess that it would be pity.
“Yeah, I guess I was. I was in the footy team, played cricket and tennis too. And you say you helped the librarian like that’s a bad thing. It’s cute.”
“It’s weird. But, like, I mean you were popular right? I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t unpopular.” Zayn interrupted, but Harry sent him a look. The kind that said shut up, Louis is about to speak.
“I guess I was. I had a lot of friends and that. Still wasn’t liked by everyone, being gay at my school was a lot harder than it is here. I’m still surprised how cool everyone is.”
“That was all Liam. Only he could pull off a mass change in attitude towards homosexuality at a Catholic school.” Zayn said proudly.
“You must have had an easier time of it when you went here, then. In that respect, anyways.” Louis said, and Harry knew he was being spoken to but his mouth was stuck open. Louis was gay.
But then it hit him. “How’d you know I’m gay?”
Louis glanced quick at Zayn, cheeks going rosy. “I asked?”
His heart was giggling now, nudging at his ribs like see, see, see! and Harry wanted it to shut up so he could think.
“Is that not alright?” Louis asked carefully, voice a little fear-tinged.
“Harry? It’s fine, right?” Zayn prompted, and Harry nodded.
“It’s good. Fine, yeah. Can you repeat the question?”
Louis frowned and asked “Which one?” while Zayn said “How was it for you being gay at this school. Or something like that, anyway.”
“Oh. Umm, I don’t think anyone knew. Or they probably did, but I didn’t tell anyone about it. Just didn’t see the point. There was no one here I liked.”
“Everyone knew, I think.” Zayn said with a little smile, and was saved from answering how? when the first bell rang.
“Fuck, better get to my office.” Louis grunted, pushing himself up. “I might see you around at lunch. Or tomorrow morning, or the game on Saturday. Are you coming? I’ve been meaning to ask but keep forgetting.”
When Harry’s brow creased in confusion, Zayn said “The footy game. We’re versing St George’s.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go, yeah.” He muttered, and when Louis beamed his heart started kicking up another fuss.
“Great, I’ll see you there! And like, at school tomorrow. But. Cool.”
And when Louis was finally gone, Harry could tear his eyes back to Zayn. Who was grinning like an idiot. “What?”
“Nothing.” He replied, sounding indifferent but he was still smiling. Mouth closed, like he was hiding a secret between his teeth.
Harry sighed. “Spit it out.”
“You two are cute, but this little dance you’re doing around each other is getting a bit old.”
Harry scoffed. “What dance? We aren’t dancing.”
“Right now you’re square dancing. I’m waiting to see more of a tango. Holding hands and hips and all that.”
Harry stood haughtily, packing up his few books into his satchel and huffing out a quiet “Fuck off.”
It just made Zayn laugh and gather his own things. “Fuck on. With Louis. Now.”
It made him blush and grit out “Shut up” childishly. He didn’t like being told what to do. But also, he’d just accepted that he and Louis weren’t going to happen. Today just threw all his hard work back up into the air for him to go chasing after.
---
“It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Zayn asked, and Harry tore his eyes from the football field to look at him, hoping some sense was showing on that pretty face because none just came out of his mouth.
They were sitting in the stands together, with Liam and a few other teachers, all there to watch the match. It had been going on for twenty minutes now and neither side had scored. Louis looked ready to rip his hair out in frustration, and Harry was at the edge of his seat trying to control his need to rush down there and comfort him.
“What’s strange?” He finally asked, after realising Zayn had no intention of elaborating.
“That pretty much your whole choir is made up of the football team.”
“I guess.” Harry said, frown deepening the longer he looked out at the boys. He hadn’t noticed it, but now it was hard to ignore. Each and every boy that was on the field had been at the last two choir practices. “Choir must have become cool or something.”
“Come on, you don’t honestly think that.” Liam scoffed, and Harry frowned.
“Why can’t I? It’s plausible.”
Zayn and Liam shared a look, and Harry hated when they did that. “Louis coaxed his boys into joining.”
“No he didn’t. Why would he do that?” Harry frowned, and Liam rolled his eyes.
“He did, I’ve had a few complaints from parents about it. And the reason is so bloody obvious it’s frustrating.”
“Well, he doesn’t like me, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Of course that’s what I’m implying. And I’m not just implying, I’m stating it as fact.”
“You’re an idiot. The both of you are idiots.” Harry muttered, glancing back out at the field, trying to ignore his heart’s screams of SEE!.
“You’re the only idiot here.” Zayn laughed, and Liam looked at Harry with his face all stern and his eyes all narrowed.
“If you don’t talk to Louis after this game, I’m going to be very angry at you.”
His voice was cold, but Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his words. “That’s not much of a threat. You’ve got to properly threaten me with something.”
Liam sighed. “I’m not going to do that. It’s got to be your own decision. Just look at him, though, and believe me when I say that he likes you back.”
Harry did look to Louis, at how he was throwing his arms about and kicking the grass up. At his muscled thighs and tan skin and little beautiful face. He wanted to believe Liam, he really did, but it still didn’t make sense.
“Alright, fine. I’ll talk to him.” He huffed out, and his heart sang its’ rejoice at him. For once, his brain wasn’t silencing it.
When Harry got down to the sidelines, where all the boys were jumping on top of a beaming Louis in celebration, he started to panic. What was he even doing? What was he going to say? He couldn’t just come straight out with –
“Do you like me?” He’d panicked. He just sort of spat the words out and Louis was looking at him like he’d been slapped in the face. Shocked, not angry.
Then he lifted his hand up to scruff up the hair at the back of his head, smiling down at his toes. “Yeah, I do.”
“Oh.”
Louis peered back up at him from beneath his fringe, and even his heart was left speechless. Fuck, but Louis was beautiful. “I thought it was obvious. But I think you’re kind of oblivious.”
“Yeah.”
“Like, the jealousy? I was sure after the dance that you must have known.”
“I didn’t. Well, I did but I didn’t believe it.”
Louis smiled at the admission, looking behind himself at his team before he stepped closer to Harry. “Do you believe it now?”
Louis was looking up at him from beneath his lashes, and his heart was beating so fast against his ribcage that Harry could swear it was trying to propel him forward. He could only nod.
Then Louis’ fingers were lacing through his, and Harry’s heart silenced itself. “You know that other team? That’s my old school.” Harry nodded “And you know that other coach? He used to give me shit.”
“Really?” Harry muttered, lips dropping into a frown.
“Do you reckon-“ Louis stepped closer again, so the toes of their shoes were touching. Harry’s brown leather boots against Louis’ trainers. “Could we put on a bit of a show for them?”
Harry gulped. “What kind of show?”
Louis grinned. “I don’t know, I was trying to be cute. Can we kiss now please?”
Harry nodded, because yes, and Louis’ hands were pressing into his shoulders and Louis’ lips were against his and his heart and brain were singing together and harmonising fucking brilliantly.