22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
“Last night was fun, huh?” Louis said, wandering into the kitchen in his pajamas.
Harry was busy rummaging through the refrigerator looking for his leftover Chinese food, and he was glad that Louis couldn’t see him roll his eyes. They’d gone to Bruisers the night before, and it would never be Harry’s first choice of drinking location. He didn’t like the low ceilings and the dim lights and the stupid leather furniture. He especially didn’t like how Louis always flirted outrageously with the bartender, Gregory.
“Yeah… ”
Louis was staring at him intently when he finally closed the door to the fridge with the correct styrofoam container in hand. Harry ignored it at first, navigating awkwardly around Louis in the cramped space, but he could feel the calculating intensity of Louis’s gaze on the back of his neck, and he gave in after he’d gotten a fork.
“What?” he asked around a mouthful of cold kung pao chicken.
Louis raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t have fun.”
“What? Yeah, I did,” Harry said. It sounded unconvincing to his own ears, and Louis’s eyes narrowed further.
“No you didn’t.”
Harry shrugged, squirming a little. “Yeah, I did. It was fine. I had a lot of fun.”
Harry and Louis had been flatmates for about a year and friends for much longer, and Harry knew the Louis was the type of person that somehow got a little personally offended if everyone hadn’t had the same great time that he’d had, when they went out. It made a weird sort of sense to Harry. Louis was the life of the party -- beautiful and bright and always laughing -- so if you rejected the party you were rejecting Louis. Or at least, that’s how he reacted.
“You are a terrible liar,” Louis grumbled, leaning over to steal some of Harry’s chicken, picking it right out with his fingers. “Niall and Liam had fun.”
“I’m sure they did.”
Louis frowned, his eyebrows knitting. He chewed on the inside of his lip, like he was debating whether to say something or not. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
Harry almost dropped his food.
“What?” He set the container down, leaning back against the counter with his heart pounding and his face burning hot. Harry almost couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been in love with Louis, and he’d always suspected Louis maybe knew, but he’d never thought his tone would be so... accusatory if he ever called Harry out on it.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Louis said, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side. Harry’s heart clenched even more. Louis always looked extra attractive to him in the mornings. Sleep puffy and hair fluffy, clothes so soft. “At the bar…”
Harry took a deep shuddering breath, steeling himself for what he felt sure was impending heartbreak. He felt almost sick to his stomach.
“You’re so… “ Louis went on, his voice strangely pinched with hurt. “Like, judgmental sometimes, Harry. I mean, I am not the only person in the world who flirts.”
“Wait, what?” Harry huffed out a laugh of surprised confusion.
“It’s not like I’m sleeping around a ton,” Louis continued to ramble. “And honestly it shouldn’t matter if I did. People can do what they want.”
Harry shook his head, still on the verge of bursting into ridiculous, manic laughter about Louis misinterpreting his behavior so much. “I know that. I don’t think it’s wrong for you to flirt with people, Louis.”
“Well, then why do you get so fucking grump-faced and sulky -- “ Harry could see it on Louis’s face the moment he figured it out, eyes wide. Harry was bathed in adrenaline, his hands trembling and his skin tingling.
“Oh,” Louis whispered.
Harry nodded, the motion jerky as he stared fixedly at their cruddy kitchen floor. There was a terrible lump in his throat and now he felt dangerously closed to crying.
“You’re jealous?” Louis voice was so full of fragile hope and wonder that Harry’s head snapped up immediately in response, eyes locking on Louis’s.
“I -- um,” Harry stuttered, blood thundering in his ears. “Yes.”
He’d seen Louis smile so many times, but never quite like this before, utterly radiant and gleeful -- it was like a direct beam of joy across the small space between them, and Harry was so beyond happy that he felt a little faint.
“Oh,” Louis said again, crossing over to Harry and slowly looping his arms around his neck. He blinked up at Harry before he kissed him, eyes bright. “You should have said something before.”
I JUST CALLED MY FRIEND YELLING THROUGH THE PHOBE BC OF MY LAST LARRY POST I LITERALLY STOPPED BREATHING FOR 50 YEARS DONT YOU DARE TELL ME THEYRE NOT TOGETHER OR IN LOVE DONT
