Chapter Text
The draft contract from Lantern arrived, about a month later, in the full warmth of late spring. It was evening, and the band was gathered at Louis’ apartment, crowded around the papers on the coffee table, as each of them took several turns reading through the pages. Zayn and Liam were on the sofa, while Harry and Niall sat on the floor opposite them, in front of the telly. Louis sat in the rarely used chair. They’d all discussed the contract plenty, leading up to its arrival. Would they be willing to quit their jobs, travel – did they really want to go down the road, if it were an option? Now that the contract had actually arrived, the conversations suddenly felt real, and everyone seemed slightly on edge.
Louis didn’t review the papers as much as Zayn and Liam did. He must have read through the contract twenty times before the rest of the band arrived, already. Niall and Harry both skimmed through the sheets a handful of times, but didn’t have much commentary to add. Louis expected as much from Niall; he had always been the go-with-the-flow type. Harry stumped him a bit. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint how Harry felt about the prospect. Harry seemed occupied by his own thoughts.
“Reckon we should get a lawyer,” Louis eventually broke a long stretch of silence, as Zayn’s eyes continually scanned the document. “But it doesn’t sound that crazy, to me. I expected it to be more intimidating. The distribution sounds reasonable to me. I like the reversion clause after 15 years. I was worried about that more than anything else. I wouldn’t want to give up ownership, forever,” Louis stated. “I’ve never been good at that kind of stuff, anyway. I don’t know. What do you think, Z?”
Zayn emitted a long sigh and laid the paper down on the table, like he was exhausted from looking at it. His eyes met Louis,’ and Louis couldn’t exactly read him, either. “I don’t know. We’ve never been in this position. I guess it depends on how seriously everyone is willing to take it,” he concluded, his gaze flickering to the others. Louis and Zayn had had conversations before, about something like this happening, and what they would do. They’d once agreed that if some crazy opportunity came up, they’d take a jump if it landed in their laps. Only if they didn’t have to sacrifice their authenticity. But it had been a couple of years since they’d gotten into the weeds of it. The band hadn’t had a momentum shift like this in a long time.
“Well, are you serious?” Louis questioned his best mate directly.
“Of course,” Zayn returned without missing a beat. “You know I love it and I’d follow you anywhere. But we’re a little bit older than we were in uni. I guess we need to have a proper check-in.” Zayn’s eyes flickered quickly to Harry, before back to Louis. Though Zayn had admittedly grown fond of Harry, his freshness (and perhaps his dynamic with Louis) still did make Zayn nervous. Louis could tell.
Harry wasn’t thick; he clocked Zayn’s glance, and his eyes flicked to Louis at the same time Zayn’s did. Following the direction of Zayn’s look, Louis studied Harry for a moment, the younger man’s legs crossed beneath the coffee table in a childlike fashion. His green eyes were wide, curious, and contained a glint of something Louis couldn’t name. Harry spoke up before Louis could find the words.
“If everyone approves of the contract and a lawyer reviews it, I want to take it seriously,” Harry assured. It was quiet for a moment, Louis’ eyes flashing back toward Zayn.
“Louis, there’s a key member clause–”
“I read it,” Louis interrupted Zayn, emitting a quiet chuckle. Louis was sure that Harry had read the key member clause, too, since it mentioned him directly by name. It basically meant that if Harry were to leave the band, the contract would be terminated. Now, the contract explicitly allowed for solo work to be recorded, but the language was written to protect the band as a unit. It made sense to Louis, and after the way the label had spoken to Harry at their meeting, he had expected a key member clause to be included as part of the deal.
“You know that means it could screw the band over for however many years, fifteen? If you were to leave, right?” Zayn’s tone wasn’t rude; just informative and direct. Harry had grown accustomed to it, and didn’t seem to take too much offense to it. Though Louis did catch Harry’s jaw clench momentarily.
“Yeah, I saw it. I still mean what I said,” Harry returned, his voice quieter than before. Less confident, but perhaps only because of the newfound seriousness in the energy. Zayn was hesitant before he spoke again, but his tone was softer when he did, his eyes lingering on Harry.
“Alright. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m coming down on you. I just think it’s important that everyone is on the same page. Plus, I wouldn’t want you to wind up feeling trapped. Because I agree with Lou about what you could accomplish on your own, if you wanted to.” The unexpected sentiment brought a light grin to Harry’s lips.
“There is a bit of an elephant in the room,” Niall interjected, after taking a sip of a beer. “You two,” he began, raising a finger into the air and pointing between Louis and Harry. Niall didn’t say anything beyond that until he was met with silence.
Zayn laughed at the sudden awkwardness.
“What?” Harry asked, brows furrowing. Louis sighed, leaning back against the chair cushion. He knew where this was going, but he had to let it play out.
“Well,” Niall laughed, setting his beer down next to the contract. “Not to act as your couple’s counselor, but what if you break up?” Again, silence. “Could you both handle staying in the band?” Niall sincerely asked, amused by the lack of reply from either man.
“We aren’t together,” Harry replied simply, snatching Niall’s beer off the table and claiming it for himself. The other three men glanced at each other, and Niall seemed to accept that the conversation wouldn’t go further. Louis’ brows furrowed as he looked down at Harry. Technically, Harry was correct, but the smoothness with which it rolled off his tongue did shake Louis a bit. He hadn’t expected that. Maybe they weren’t together, but Harry wasn’t just another band member to Louis. Whatever. It’d been a long and stressful day, and it wasn’t a conversation meant to be had in front of the whole band. Still, the words rang through his head as his bandmates continued their conversation about various aspects of the contract.
After several minutes of unfollowed conversation about clauses and lawyers, Harry subtly scooted his body away from the coffee table to the foot of the chair Louis sat in. He leaned his back against it, between Louis’ knees, as he continued to sip on the beer. Niall had gotten a new one from the kitchen; he’d probably only let Harry get away with that. Louis’ eyes focused on the back of Harry’s head, his curls, and he thought about the day he massaged his scalp in the church, during his first practice. He got lost in that memory for a while. Liam eventually announced that he would have an entertainment lawyer he knew review the contract sometime later in the week. Louis nodded in approval. There wasn’t much the band could comfortably do without having a lawyer review the document.
After the football game that had been indifferently occupying the television screen for most of the night ended, the lads began piling out. Of course, not Harry. As Liam, the last to leave, shut the door, Harry tipped his head back against Louis’ lap, where he still sat, looking up at him from upside down. “Can I stay?” He asked, knowing full-well the answer.
Louis reached down, combing his hand through the younger man’s soft hair. It was always soft. “This time, yeah,” he teased. Harry closed his eyes at the feeling of Louis’ fingers against his scalp. He looked so relaxed; it was as if he was totally unfazed by the sentence he’d uttered earlier, in front of the others. The one that had lingered in Louis’ mind since he heard it, even though he understood its truth. We aren’t together . Louis had an urge to bring it up, but he was clueless as to how. Maybe he didn’t want to go through the hassle of making things uncomfortable. Not tonight, anyway.
“Come up here,” he softly pleaded instead. Harry hummed before obliging, lifting himself up from the floor and standing up to stretch. Harry brought his arms up above his head, holding his hands together as he extended out his shoulders, Louis’ eyes on him all the while. His movements caused his shirt to rise enough to reveal a sliver of the skin on his tattooed abdomen. Mid-stretch, Louis couldn’t help himself. He reached out, firmly gripping Harry’s waist as he guided him to the chair and naturally onto his lap. Harry chuckled as he straddled Louis, enthralled by the other’s sudden neediness. Louis felt a certain tightness in his chest as Harry’s hands rested against it for support, before they glided up to his shoulders. Harry was comfortable quickly.
“I know you know what will happen, already,” Harry mumbled in assumption. He locked his gaze with Louis’. “Are we going to sign it or not?”
Louis couldn’t help but smile at Harry’s certainty, even though he really didn’t have a solid idea about the outcome. “You have as much free will to sign it as I do, so you tell me. It actually does come down to you and me, because we are the only members with key member clauses.”
Harry slightly sat up. “You have one, too?”
The sincere surprise on Harry’s face amused Louis, even if he ought to have been offended. It was Harry. “Well, I’m our lead writer, so… that’s generally how it would go, yeah.”
“Oh,” Harry returned, glancing back toward the contract on the table. “Well, my signature alone isn’t going to make the decision. You are. It’s your band. So what’s going to happen?”
“It’s your band, too,” Louis corrected the younger man, curious about Harry’s suddenly intense interest in the outcome of the contract. “What do you want to happen?” Louis asked.
Harry didn’t respond initially. He shrugged, snaking his arms around Louis’ neck as he leaned down further. Louis’ wound his arms loosely around Harry’s hips. Harry settled into a state of relaxation and stillness, his head lying against Louis’ shoulder as he practically dissolved against him. Louis’ fingertips teased beneath the bottom hem of his white tee shirt, eventually working their way up his skin, beneath the thin fabric. The two sat like this for a while, breathing one another in, content in the tranquility of the evening and the lack of unnecessary noise. Louis liked the way goosebumps would rise on Harry’s skin, wherever he caressed.
Before long, Louis was met with the unexpected, warm sensation of Harry’s lips against his neck. He naturally tilted his head to allot Harry more space, his caresses transitioning into gentle scratches along Harry’s skin.
“I just want you,” Harry whispered lowly in between his kisses, one of his hands lightly tugging downwards on Louis’ collar as he continued to press his mouth to Louis’ skin. By this point, Harry had learned where to kiss Louis to get a rise out of him. By the time Louis’ mind had fogged over by the sensuality of it all, Harry lifted his head up to be level with Louis’, his forehead resting against the other man’s. “Is that alright?” Harry asked in the same hushed tone. Louis could feel Harry’s lips brush against his own, and Louis attempted to initiate a kiss, but Harry retreated just enough to indicate that he would have to answer the question first. He could feel Harry’s smile.
“You’ve got me,” Louis promised, his eyes opening long enough for him to be knocked back by his own feelings for Harry at the sight of him. This time, when Louis leaned in, Harry allowed the kiss to happen. Louis’ worries about Harry’s nonchalance were all but forgotten. To Louis’ dismay, the longer and sweeter that he kissed Harry, the louder the words seemed to echo in his mind.
Just as Louis developed the courage and will to retreat, there was a loud knock at the door, causing Harry to jolt. Less than a moment later, Niall stormed in, emitting a loud huff. “Forgot my wallet,” he exclaimed. He hardly paid any mind to his surroundings as he stepped into the living room without closing the front door, a night breeze following him inside. Louis and Harry remained still, momentarily stunned. After quickly retrieving his wallet from the floor, Niall glanced at the pair and scoffed, shaking his head amusedly. “Yeah, right. ‘N ot together ’ my fucking arse,” he muttered, disappearing from the flat just as suddenly as he’d barged in.
The dumbfoundedness of Niall’s presence lingered in the air between them, and Louis could see the rose flush on Harry’s cheeks. After a minute, Harry groaned, tipping his head forward into the crevice of Louis’ neck and burying it against him. It wasn’t like they kept themselves a secret from the band, but something about being caught in the position seemed inherently embarrassing to Harry. Louis breathed out a quiet laugh, his arms tightening around Harry’s waist.
“What?” Louis asked, as if he were clueless. Embarrassing or not, Niall had made a fair point. He brought one hand up to Harry’s head, combing his fingertips through Harry’s hair. He gripped the strands toward the root and delicately pulled the younger man’s head back so that he could see his face. “You shy?” He teased.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head. “Doesn’t it ever feel like they will think you just added me to the band because you wanted to fuck me?” He asked it with some hint of shame.
At that, Louis couldn’t help but fully laugh, tilting his head back against the cushion. He double-checked Harry’s expression for seriousness, soon realizing that he was. He quieted his laughter, though his expression remained amused.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Harry continued. “Like I’m just some person from the street that you wanted to fuck, who happened to have…” he paused, glancing away, before looking back at Louis. “A musical talent. So you decided to keep me around.”
“Harry,” Louis interjected, still blatantly entertained. “First of all, you know that’s not true,” he began, his fingers scratching lightly against Harry’s scalp. “And I’m sure they don’t think that. They love you, anyway. Zayn tells me all the time how talented you are. They respect you,” Louis assured.
Harry pondered on Louis’ words, his thought process nearly visible through his green eyes as he considered the truth of it.
“ And ,” Louis continued, emphasizing his last point, “I wanted you in the band before I wanted to fuck you. Fucking hell, that night felt like I was whoring myself out for the off-chance that you would give the band a second thought, if you remember,” Louis chuckled, his hand falling from Harry’s hair, just to caress along the underside of his jaw.
The memory of the first night with Louis sent a chill down Harry’s spine, his eyes fluttering closed. He supposed Louis was right; he hoped that he was, anyway, about their respecting him. The thoughts of embarrassment regarding the other band members slipped his mind, though, as he recalled his first meeting with Louis. Even though it had been a handful of months, Harry felt like he had changed so much since then. He had been so touch-starved at that time.
“I remember how bad you wanted me,” Harry murmured, his tone having shifted. It was more sultry, and caused a lump in Louis’ throat. Even though Harry’s eyes were closed, Louis felt like he could read exactly what was going through his mind. His suspicions were confirmed when Harry turned his face so that his lips could brush against Louis’ knuckles. Louis watched with a hitch in his breath; this was not the first time Harry had done this, and surely wouldn’t be the last. Instinctively, he straightened out his fingers, slipping two of them just past Harry’s lips, the tips brushing against his tongue.
“I still want you,” Louis whispered, his gaze locked on Harry’s lips as they closed around his fingers. Harry hardly reacted to the statement, his lips slowly dragging off of Louis’ skin as he opened his eyes. His stare met Louis’, the air between them emblazed.
“Prove it.”
Louis needed no further provoking, though he knew it was best to pace himself. He knew Harry liked it slow. He sat up straighter, closer to Harry, both of his hands returning to his waist. There wasn’t a need for any more words. As he pressed their lips together, he could already feel his own pants tightening. Harry knew how to turn him on, with record speed. He didn’t have to do much, really. Louis lifted Harry’s shirt about halfway up as his kisses worked their way down his neck, lingering at the spots that brought any sort of reaction out of Harry. Harry never hid what felt good. His palms caressed over Harry’s waist and the small of his back.
Harry emitted a soft whimper as Louis nipped at his collarbone, his hands gliding beneath the wide sleeves of Louis’ black tee shirt, his nails scraping lightly atop his shoulders. Suddenly yearning for the freedom of flesh-on-flesh, Louis swiftly pulled Harry’s shirt up over his head, followed by his own. He breathed out in relief as he returned to his focus, his mouth loitering on Harry’s chest, around his nipples. Before Harry, Louis had honestly never paid that much attention to that area on his lovers. But the whine that escaped Harry’s throat the first time Louis flicked his tongue against the skin had stuck with him. This time was no different.
He parted his lips around Harry’s right nipple, his tongue dragging slowly over it as his hands gripped his hips with firmness. He pulled him closer, so that he could feel Harry pressed against his stomach, through his joggers. Harry’s breathing was staggered, uneven moans slipping from his mouth at almost every movement Louis made. Louis smirked against his skin; Harry always talked a big game, but when it came down to it, he still behaved as the desperate boy Louis had met on that first night. Louis remembered how surprised he had been, after Harry had put on such a show in the street, how quickly he had unraveled behind closed doors. Begging for Louis to keep kissing him, keep touching him, and so forth. He wasn’t as hard to please as he liked to pretend.
“You sound pretty,” Louis whispered. His hands slipped behind Harry as his tongue once again traced around his nipple. His fingers gripped Harry’s ass, pulling his body in tighter, so that he could feel the friction of Harry’s weight against himself. Harry, with his hands resting lightly against Louis’ neck, responded by rolling his hips slowly forward. And back, and forward again. It became a repeated motion, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he grinded against Louis. Louis would consume him whole, all at once, if it were possible. But all he could do now was admire the sight in front of him, his eyes flickering up toward Harry’s face.
The moment a soft moan escaped Louis’ lips, Harry leaned down, immediately soothing Louis’ mouth with his own. As they kissed, tongues darting against one another, Harry’s movements became sharper and heavier, until he couldn’t withstand the burning ache any longer. “Bedroom,” Harry decided, reluctantly removing himself from Louis’ lap to stand up.
Within seconds, the two were in the bedroom, Louis closing the door behind them. Harry stepped forward, his hands cupping Louis’ face in a suddenly slow manner as he pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Hold on. You wait here,” Harry instructed. After pulling away, he took off the rest of his own clothes. Now totally bare, he crawled to the center of the bed. He laid on his back, half-propped up by a pillow near the headboard as he got comfortable. He adjusted for a moment, until he felt right, and then returned his attention to Louis. Louis just stood there, watching Harry with a curious frustration.
Harry’s knees were bent upwards, and, while watching Louis, he inched them apart, until they were properly spread open. Louis stared; he couldn’t help it. Harry wanted to be watched. “Take off your clothes,” Harry mumbled, quietly excited by the separation between them.
Louis stepped closer to the bed, to its center, so that he could look directly up at Harry from between his legs. He obliged Harry’s request, unbuttoning and removing his jeans and boxers. Once he was fully nude, he remained standing still, his eyes raptured by the beauty of Harry’s frame. Louis sucked in his lower lip, awaiting Harry’s invitation to come closer. His head was spinning something mad.
After a full two minutes of silent staring, Harry reached down, his fingers wrapping lightly around his own cock as he peered at Louis, his thumb grazing over the tip as he emitted a relieved sigh. “What do you think of me?” Harry asked, his fingers beginning to slowly drag up and down along his own skin. He bit his lip, his vulnerability now on full display for Louis.
Louis’ lips parted, but no words escaped. The flare in his lower abdomen was too overwhelming at the sight of Harry. He inched forward, one of his knees bending against the mattress as he leaned forward, as if he were anticipating a race. His gaze flashed from Harry’s hand up to his face, his eyes burning. Harry looked so expectant; not taunting, but anticipatory. “I think you’re easily the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Louis returned, focusing on keeping his breathing steady as Harry continued his motions. “And I think you need to let me touch you,” he added. ”You need me, don’t you?”
Harry pulled his hand back, remaining exposed in front of Louis. He nodded his head at Louis’ question, a silent confirmation that his little teasing spell was over and for Louis to continue. Louis crawled fully onto the bed, between Harry’s legs. He couldn’t be bothered to draw out the teasing any further. His lips met the skin of Harry's inner knee, where he kissed and licked his way down to his inner thighs. He rewarded both of Harry’s legs with gentle bites of the softest skin, along with light suckles. He was careful not to get ahead of himself; it would be so easy. But, he truly wanted to worship Harry. Harry’s cock twitched as Louis flattened his tongue against the base, and licked one slow stripe to the tip. He then pressed a sensual kiss to the end, humming in satisfaction, like he’d never done anything so satisfying. Louis’ hands slid along Harry’s inner legs all the while. Of course, Harry was already a mess, his head tipped back against the pillow as his chest rose and fell.
Louis continued to slowly lap at the skin of Harry’s cock, leaving an occasional kiss. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Harry this hard; still, he had more plans. He slowly retreated, sitting up as his fingertips grazed along Harry’s abdomen. “Roll over,” he urged. Harry complied shortly, arranging himself on his stomach and adjusting the pillow beneath his head. He glanced at Louis as he propped himself up on his elbows. Now, Louis had Harry where he wanted him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he took in the sight of him, the curvature of his waist, and the softness of his skin, the small tattoos that littered the skin on the back of his shoulders. He moved carefully in between Harry’s legs once again, placing his hands on the top of his back.
As Louis began to massage the area, pressing his thumbs into the flesh, Harry relaxed fully down onto the pillow. Louis leaned down, his body hovering over Harry’s. He brushed a small cluster of curls behind Harry’s ear. He nudged his nose against the younger man’s scalp, his lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “I am going to fuck you, baby. I promise,” Louis assured in a whisper. “I just need…” He trailed off, moving to press his lips to the top of Harry’s spine. His palms continued to explore the skin that he already knew, as his mouth worked its way downward.
When he reached Harry’s ass, his palms moved to grip it from the bottom, his lips peppering slow kisses to each side. Harry’s head was buried in his pillow, but Louis could hear his muffled whimpers. Now, eating ass wasn’t a particularly custom practice for Louis with his sexual partners, but Harry was different. He wanted all of Harry. Thoroughly. His hands spread Harry’s flesh enough to expose him to Louis, who heatedly pressed his lips to the skin underneath, treating the area with as much devotion as he had the rest of Harry. As he dragged his lips upward, he kissed directly on the rim, and a whimper slipped from his lips, caused by the ache in his own groin.
Harry’s back arched slightly as he muttered a profanity into the pillow. His fingers tightened around the fabric of the pillowcase as Louis’ tongue lapped slowly against him. Looked pretty, sounded pretty, Harry even tasted pretty. His tongue eventually slipped inside, as he encouraged Harry to relax. He licked Harry out until he could feel the younger man’s legs trembling. Then, he retreated and reached for the lube in his nightstand.
Once he had his fingers appropriately lubed, he lay back up so that his face would be level with Harry’s, next to him, on his side. Harry turned his face to look at Louis, his eyes glistening with desire. Louis scooted as close to Harry as he could get. His finger circled the hole, as Louis sought some admission of readiness from Harry. Harry knowingly nodded, and Louis slipped his finger in. Harry propped himself up on his elbows, once more, so that he could see Louis better. Louis immediately leaned in, pressing his mouth to Harry’s as his finger worked inside of him. He soon added the second, earning a soft moan from the younger man. Hardly any time passed before Harry pleaded against Louis’ mouth. “Now, Louis. I need you, now.”
Louis carefully removed his fingers and lightly urged Harry to return to the position on his back. Once Harry faced the ceiling, again, Louis moved to his previous spot and gripped Harry’s knees. He pushed them back until Harry was fully visible to him, so that he could fuck him in this position. Being folded in such a way, so vulnerable, caused Harry’s breath to shake; they didn’t usually fuck this way, missionary, but something about tonight warranted it, for Louis. He quickly, but thoroughly, lubed himself up, and rested his cock against Harry’s entrance. His eyes flashed to Harry’s; the pure desperation was there. Harry needed him, whether they were together or not.
Carefully, Louis pressed himself into Harry, until he was all the way inserted, the muscles in his hips tightening as he finally felt some relief from the pressure that had been growing for the last hour. Harry looked equally relieved, his eyes shut as he focused on keeping himself relaxed; his legs locked around Louis’ waist to keep himself steady. Louis moaned as he began to roll his hips against the man beneath him, Harry’s arms wrapping intimately around his neck. Hardly any time at all passed, before Harry choked out, “Touch me, please.” His hand found one of Louis’ and guided it to his cock.
Louis stroked Harry at the rhythm he’d learned that he liked as he continued fucking into him slowly. He pressed as tightly into him as he could manage whenever he thrusted forward. “You feel so fucking good,” Louis muttered, his thumb caressing over Harry’s tip. At that point, Harry was overwhelmed by the build-up of it all. He suddenly came, the liquid leaking onto both of their bodies and Louis’ hand. Louis continued to fuck Harry through his high, his own mere seconds behind as he felt his muscles contracting involuntarily. He quickly leaned down, licking a stripe of Harry’s come from his chest. After that, he started to retreat from Harry, as he usually did before he came, but Harry’s legs around Louis remained locked, pulling Louis in tighter. “In me,” Harry begged, still breathless and hazy from his high. Louis didn’t have any will to resist; he finished within moments, a gasp falling from his lips as his hips twitched. He remained in place as he caught his breath, his chest hot and sticky against Harry’s.
Louis soon rolled over onto his half of the bed, kicking the lube bottle out of the way as he collapsed on his back, catching his breath. He soon glanced over at Harry, who was already looking at him. Once he regained a semblance of a state of mind, Louis smiled and shook his head. “You’re fucking unreal,” he muttered, reaching for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the nightstand. Yeah, he didn’t usually smoke indoors, but this was another exception.
Harry didn’t respond, but he did get up for a moment to retrieve a towel, and take a moment to wipe himself down in the bathroom. He brought another towel for Louis as he returned to the bed, laying it atop Louis’ stomach as he positioned himself. Harry was usually quiet after sex, Louis noted, but very affectionate.
Harry curled against Louis’ shoulder as Louis smoked, and tugged the sheet up over their lower halves. Louis leaned his cheek against the top of Harry’s head as he exhaled, his mind drifting back to that place of uncertainty that he’d felt when all of the lads were still around. No matter how lost he could get in the moment with Harry, they still weren’t properly together. Louis knew he wasn’t innocent in that; after all, he’d said to Harry months ago that he couldn’t promise him anything. Still, the nonchalance with which Harry announced it shook his clarity. There were several moments when the question of it almost escaped his lips, but something held him back. Maybe he was nervous, maybe the time wasn’t right. But right now, Harry was sitting beside him, bare, his fingertips caressing the outlines of the tattoos on Louis’ biceps. There probably wouldn’t be a better time.
“You know how you said we aren’t together,” Louis mumbled, before taking a long drag.
Harry’s fingers stopped, and he turned his face toward Louis’. A curious smirk tugged at Harry’s lips as he examined the other man’s features. “Mhm,” he hummed, allowing Louis the floor.
Louis remained quiet as he thought of what to say, even though he knew it was probably obvious. “I just,” he stammered, his mind seeking how to express itself. “Do you… Is that how you want it to be?” He asked, suddenly unable to look at Harry. He felt nervous, like the night he had shown up at Harry’s door without warning.
Harry’s brows furrowed as his eyes lingered on Louis’ profile. “I suppose it depends on what you meant when you said you couldn’t promise me anything,” he explained, his lips pressing a light kiss to Louis’ shoulder, beginning to sense some of Louis’ unease. “But if you’re asking if I’m happy this way, how we are now, I am. I didn’t mean anything negative when I said that we weren’t together. If anything, I just wanted to calm them down. You know, I like you…” He paused, considering his next words. “I really like you. And I’m okay with not having a label. It seems like they only lead to failure, anyway,” he decided.
Louis just nodded, deciding to drop the topic as he put his cigarette out. “It makes sense. For the record, I really like you, too,” he added, finally turning to meet eyes with Harry. He understood Harry’s hesitancy. God knew he had hesitancies of his own. But he wondered about the parts of Harry that seemed unreachable. It was funny how that worked, given that he felt like he could see all the way through Harry, when he looked in his eyes. “I’m good with that, too. I just wanted to make sure you were.”
–
The days in between receiving the contract and meeting with Lantern again blew by quickly. Liam’s lawyer had reviewed the documents and met with the band to ensure that everyone was aware of what they may be signing and the fine details of the agreement. The band had an air of hesitancy, but it felt as though everyone was on board with the idea of singing with a major label. How often would the chance come along, really? Not often, Harry figured.
He was excited, even if the concept of being locked into a contract made him nervous if he thought about it too hard. He trusted it, if Louis and the others did. They were more knowledgeable than him on those facets, and he didn’t think Louis would let him sign anything that he’d regret. In fact, he was sure of it.
The day for signing the agreement came, and it was rather anti-climactic. It was no more complicated than showing up, exchanging a few pleasantries, and signing a piece of paper. It seemed like Louis would be the one communicating most with the label, anyway.
Nothing changed immediately after the label was signed. It would take some time. The rest of spring and summer consisted of the same types of gigs that the band was used to, but with a bit better marketing. Management at Lantern had also introduced the band to a qualified booking agent, who promised that by autumn, they’d be able to start playing at more known venues, alongside the recording of their new album. During the summer months, Harry decided that he would still take some classes during autumn, but they would be online and less strenuous. That way, if everything went to shit, at least he wasn’t a total dropout.
The band’s numbers and devoted fanbase continued to grow, and Harry noticed that he was stopped in public more often, and not just on campus. It always bewildered and flattered him. He’d started carrying around a Sharpie, just in case, because of one fan who had wanted him to sign something, but there wasn’t a pen in sight.
By the end of August, the gig schedule had slowed down, as the band was focusing on recording their second official record, the first with Harry as the lead singer. Most of the tracks were written by Louis, with a few collaborations between Zayn & Louis, and Louis & Harry. Harry loved the concept; it was rock, like their first album, but certainly softer, and included some ballads. It was more digestible in sound but not in theme or style. It sounded like the kind of music that Harry loved to listen to.
For the most part, the band had access to a studio space where they spent most of their time. Still, they occasionally utilized the church. It was much rarer, but Louis had said that he liked the privacy of the space. He felt like it was good to keep the constant, since it was the place that the band had been practicing for the last several years. The others agreed, and Harry felt that it was a wise idea.
Tonight, on a rainy late summer night, the band was practicing in the church. They’d been recording relentlessly all week, so the practice wasn’t too serious. They were mostly just fooling around and experimenting. Niall and Liam had taken over vocals for the evening, and Harry was trying his hand at the drums. He was still waiting for the day Louis would let him sharpen up on his saxophone skills for the stage.
To Harry’s surprise, the band still sounded quite good, even with everyone in a new position. He quite enjoyed the drums; it was quite easy to get lost in the rhythm and feeling of the music, like any other instrument – but you really feel the drums in your core, like you feel singing in your chest.
As the band fooled around with the style of a song they were meant to record in the coming week, the front door to the church swung open. A man walked in that Harry hadn’t seen before, and the noise of the stage awkwardly came to a halt. Harry flashed his attention toward Louis, who wore an unreadable (somewhat nervous?) expression. As Harry examined the other lads, it was clear that he was the only one in the room who had no idea who this was. Still, he did look mildly familiar to Harry. He must have seen him somewhere. The man, who appeared to be around Harry’s age, was tall, and had a haircut similar to Harry’s, albeit slightly longer. His style was more athletic than Harry’s, similar to Louis’, and his features were sharp. Harry couldn’t read his expression, either, aside from some version of amusement. It was like he was waiting for the group to greet him.
“Hey, man,” Niall was the first to break the tension in the air, his tone convincingly upbeat. “How’s uni been?” Uni? Oh . Harry suddenly remembered where he had seen the man’s face; it was Wes, the original singer of the band. Why would he show up here? Did they have an agreement that he would still be in the band, after uni? Harry felt confused, and suddenly mildly uncomfortable.
“What’s up?” Wes said as he approached the stage, his focus flashing momentarily to each person on the stage, including Harry, who his gaze lingered on, curiously. Once he stood a few feet away from the set, he crossed his arms, primarily looking in the direction of Louis and Zayn. “Were you guys ever going to tell me that you signed with Lantern?” He questioned, a certain sharpness in his tone. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me, too?”
The stage was quiet. Harry felt like he’d hardly had time to process anything. He had been under the impression that Wes had willfully left the band when he went off to uni. The band – Louis – had since gone on a mission to find a replacement singer, which is where Harry came in. He was confused by the clear tension in the room.
“Wes, come on,” Louis replied, setting down his guitar. “We both knew you weren’t coming back. You said you wanted out of London for good.” Liam and Zayn were exchanging glances, and Harry felt like the only person in the room who wasn’t in on the details of what was happening.
“So that’s it?” Wes asked sharply, taking a step in the direction of where Louis stood, though he still remained off the stage. Louis sighed, and Harry could tell that he had trouble looking at Wes. He seemed guilty. “So you just get to sign with Lantern, then? You realize that’s me on the record, right?”
“They were only interested in future distribution. They don’t want to touch that,” Louis returned coldly, his eyes finally flickering toward Wes. It didn’t seem like Wes was registering much that Louis was saying; Harry could tell by the reddening of his face that he was becoming angrier.
“You all are real pieces of work. After everything that I’ve done. Put my life on hold for 2 years for no fucking reason,” he muttered, laughing bitterly. The band still stood in a mostly stunned silence. “You know what, at least–”
“Well, you’re the one who left, Wes, so just fucking drop it,” Louis interjected, in a tone that made Harry’s skin crawl. He hadn’t heard him speak in a tone so devoid of emotion before. “It is what it is. We signed. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
It was silent for a good while. No one, not even Niall, seemed to be able to come up with words in the heaviness of the air. Harry, while in an awkward position, still felt external to the entire situation. As he examined Wes, the former band member locked eyes with him. “So, he replaced me, huh?” Wes finally asked, his question directed at the band as his eyes remained on Harry. He looked less angry, but perhaps more judgmental, or questioning.
“I literally told you that we would need to find a singer,” Louis returned, a frustrated sigh falling from his lips. Wes ignored Louis’ comment and continued staring at Harry, as if his mind were reeling for a comment to make. Harry shifted his attention between Louis and Wes as he awaited the awkwardness of it all to end. Eventually, Wes peeled his attention away from Harry and focused back on Louis. His expression was suddenly lighter and his lips were pursed in amusement.
“Looks like your type. You fucking him, too?” He asked, his eyes locked on the songwriter. Louis didn’t answer.
“Alright,” Zayn of all people interjected, sighing loudly as he stepped up from the keyboard stand. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere, here. Let’s drop it. Wes, you can walk with me. We can talk.”
Within a few minutes, the band cleared out of the church. Zayn had walked out with Wes, and Louis had stormed off (which was very unlike him). Liam seemed eager for space, too. Harry and Niall were the last to leave; Niall waited for Harry to pack up his guitar. Harry was glad; someone needed to fill him in. “What the fuck was that about?” He asked Niall as he picked up his guitar case and they headed to the doors.
Niall chuckled, shaking his head. “I knew this would happen. I called it. When Wes left, it wasn’t, like, an official departure. It was an unspoken thing. But, in our defense, it did seem pretty final. Wes was always hating this place and making comments about the band, how we would never grow. I think Louis told him he would always have a place in the band if he wanted. That was, I think, the biggest thing. But once you sign a contract, as you know, it doesn't really work like that. Plus, we had a different philosophy back then. We had almost gotten screwed, so everyone was very anti-label.” Niall explained.
Harry listened to what Niall was saying, but he honestly couldn’t care less about the band’s history. Louis’ history – that was a different story. You fucking him, too? That was the part of lore that was ringing a bell in Harry’s mind. Presumably, Louis had been fucking Wes, then. Did they have the same arrangement as Harry and Louis before he left? Is that why Louis had reacted so coldly on the stage? Fuck, had they dated? Harry could ask Niall, but he wasn’t sure he felt like stomaching that information tonight. He felt deeply uneasy about everything. If it were true, then it came before Harry, so why would he care?
It was the principle of it. He was already Wes’s replacement in the band; the thought of filling the same role in Louis’ life that had belonged to someone else before made him feel sick, though. In the moment, when the words had been uttered, they hardly registered to Harry. But, the longer he thought about what they meant, the more bothered he became. It reminded him of his conversation with Louis, weeks ago. About being someone he wanted to fuck, who just happened to be worthy of joining the band. Even though Harry knew it wasn’t that black and white, the idea still disturbed him. Why, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to be a part of some pattern – Louis adds anyone he’s attracted to to the band. It felt like a blow in both directions – both for his musical talent, and for his relationship with Louis, in some way.
“You okay?” Niall asked, disrupting the whirlpool of thoughts that were occupying Harry’s mind. They had stopped at Harry’s bus stop, the warmth of the evening beginning to allow for a crisp night breeze.
“Yeah. Just thinking,” Harry replied.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Niall claimed, concern on his face as he looked at Harry. Harry found it sweet that Niall cared. “He’ll be alright. He always had a temper. I’m sure Zayn will talk him down, and then he will move on.”
“But why did Louis storm off like that?” Harry asked. Niall’s eyes narrowed in on Harry in thought, as he suddenly became aware of what truly seemed to be bothering Harry.
“I wouldn’t worry about that, either. Wes was talking smack. He knows how to get under Louis’ skin. And you know how Louis is. He just feels a responsibility for all of us, the whole band, even Wes, still. So he probably just feels bad about how things played out.” Niall explained. Harry considered the truth of the statement. Maybe Niall was right.
Still, he couldn’t shake the awkward tension that brewed in his chest. “Thanks, Ni,” Harry stated as his bus arrived. “I’ll see you Friday.”
–
For the first time in months, Harry didn’t hear from Louis for a couple of days. His anxiety about the Wes situation had waned. He figured there was no use in worrying about the past, especially one that didn’t belong to him. He did still think, though, about his current dynamic with Louis. He knew they would need to talk, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe Louis felt the same way. Still, it did hurt Harry’s feelings that he hadn’t heard from Louis. He didn’t know enough details of the situation to guess what could have been going through his head.
The band had a gig on Friday, for the first time in a couple of weeks. They were meant to perform some of their new music, including a song written primarily by Harry, so he was looking forward to that. He spent a lot of his free time during the day practicing, now that he was much less burdened by university. He found himself daydreaming about just being able to perform; it was still his greatest love, even though it looked different from how he’d imagined as a child. He had come around to the fact that he was in a band. Still – most bands don’t last forever. Just statistically speaking. Maybe that was the thing that had bothered him about the other night, when he thought about it too deeply. If he left the band, would Louis speak to him as coldly as he had spoken to Wes? He didn’t imagine so. But, still. He didn’t really know, did he?