Chapter Text
Harry looks around the room, his eyes moving faster than his mind can. Every time he looks somewhere else, his mind takes a moment to follow, and everything seems to move in slow motion. It’s nauseating.
Harry kind of hates this feeling, kind of wishes he said no to the lines, but Louis had said yes, and he felt a little bit trapped standing around the table. Louis told him he didn’t have to, but Harry knew if he said no then he couldn’t be where he is right now. He knew Louis would wander off and leave him alone. He knew that this was the only way they could be since they ended it. Since Louis ended it.
Harry had begged him to stay, begged him not to leave, got on his knees, and cried for him to not walk out that door.
Harry convinced Louis to stay long enough to undo his jeans and apologize for hurting him over and over again, words never coming out of his mouth.
But Louis still left, and Harry got high again.
“What are you looking at?” Louis asks with his eyes closed. He hates being high on cocaine, but it was there, and Harry was there, and it was too much for Louis to handle without it.
“I don’t really know,” Harry says. “I’m just trying to get my mind to catch up with my body,”
“You sound tired,” Louis says carding his fingers through Harry’s hair absentmindedly. Harry tries to snuggle closer to Louis, but Louis moves back away from him, and, right, that’s not something they do anymore.
“I’m not,”
“Just high,” Louis sighs.
“Just really high,” Harry agrees. “You are too,”
“Because you’re-“
“Because I’m here, I know, you don’t have to say it,” Harry says sitting up annoyed. He has to take a moment to steady himself, but he can’t. The room spins and he thinks that it’s impossible to stop.
“I don’t really know what you want me to say, Harry. You’re here, it’s all really difficult, we get high or we get drunk to be able to-“
“Have sex?”
“Be around each other, is what I was going to say you dick,” Louis rolls his eyes.
“Why do you hate me?” Harry asks. He doesn’t mean for it to come out of his mouth, but there it is, blunt and obvious.
“I don’t hate you,” Louis sighs.
“Yes you do, at least be honest about it. You hate me, you won’t be around me sober, but you let me fuck you whenever we happen to be in the same place and-“
“Harry just stop,” Louis says frustrated. “Obviously I don’t hate you or I would have gotten up and dressed right after, alright?”
“You would have already if you could. You’re not still laying here with me because you don’t hate me, you’re laying here with me because your high is peaking and you can’t get up,” Harry says playing with the curtains next to him.
“I don’t hate you,” Louis says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, you do,” Harry singsongs back. It feels like a game, it shouldn’t, but he can’t control himself, his body, his mind. So, he turns over and lays over Louis, kissing and biting at his neck and holding his chin in place.
“You know what you did, H,” Louis says softer.
“I know what I did,” Harry agrees, licking up the column of Louis’ throat.
“Stop,” Louis says trying to push Harry off of him, but he’s weak from intoxication.
“Just one more time,” Harry says, hands wandering.
“No,” Louis croaks out, feeling crushed under Harry. “I don’t want to,”
“Lou, stop,” Harry says holding Louis’ face up roughly.
He’s not trying to, but it feels like his actions aren’t his own. He would never be rough with Louis without him asking, he would never not listen when Louis said no the first time. He would never hurt someone or scare them like this. Especially not Louis. A small part of his mind tells him to stop, that this isn’t right, that he’s going to hurt Louis.
“Harry, please,” Louis says sounding scared. He tries to pull Harry’s hand from his neck and Harry feels wet drops on his hand and he realizes that Louis is crying. Harry snaps back to reality.
He lets go of Louis faster than he can think about it and shoves himself against the wall away from him.
“I’m sorry, Louis, I didn’t mean to,” Harry says quickly. He feels like words are getting caught in his throat and he doesn’t know how to get them out. He feels like he’s suffocating like he’s trapped like his body wants Harry to feel how he just made Louis feel.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Louis says pulling his clothes on. “Just never do that again. When I say stop, I mean it,”
“I know, I swear I didn’t mean to, I don’t know why I just-“
“Take responsibility for your own actions for once, Harry,” Louis says pulling himself up and standing. “I mean, fuck, it’s always something or someone else’s fault,”
Harry closes his eyes because he knows Louis is right. He knows he never holds himself accountable. He blames the drugs or the alcohol or any other person that’s involved.
“I’m sorry, Lou,”
“Say it then. Say it once,” Louis says looking at Harry sitting on the floor naked and high off his ass.
“No,” Harry says shaking his head. The movement hurts, so he leans it back against the wall, a bit exhausted, a bit tired of their game of running in circles.
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll leave after I do, that’s what you always do. It’s always the same thing. We have sex, you get mad at me, you make me say it, and you leave,” Harry says trying to keep his eyes open, but it’s getting hard. It’s getting difficult to stay present, but he fights his own body and mind to stay here.
“Say it and I’ll stay,” Louis says.
“Does it get you off to hear me say it? Is that what it is?” Harry asks sleepily watching Louis crawl back over him.
“If I say yes, will you say it?” Louis asks. Harry nods. “Then yes, Harry, hearing you say it is what really does it for me,”
“Will you take your clothes off again if I do?” Harry counters with a raised eyebrow. Louis nods. “It was my fault that I cheated on you, I knew what I was doing the whole time, I remembered that we were together every time, and I still did it and I still came home to you after,”
Louis swallows heavily. It hurts every time. “Doesn’t that feel better?”
“Not even a little bit, but another line might help,” Harry admits. Louis rolls his eyes but grabs the small mirror and rolled up bill from the table and hands it to Harry. “Are you not having any?”
“Definitely am. Ladies first,” Louis says taking it back after Harry takes what he wants. He worries when he sees Harry do two lines instead of just one. He worries but decides it’s not his problem anymore and instead of saying anything, he takes the last line and kisses Harry so that he won’t talk anymore.
♠️
“Do you think maybe you could go now?” Louis asks quietly as Harry floats through his mind trying to find something to hold onto.
“You want me to go?” Harry asks. Louis nods. “Um, yeah, sure, I can go,”
“I just don’t want to walk out together,” Louis admits. “In case people from the party see us,”
“I get it, Lou, I’m going,” Harry says getting dressed. He wishes Louis didn’t hate to be seen with him, he wishes he could change everything. But he can’t. This is who they are now.
Harry stumbles out of the room as gracefully as he can manage and tries to make his way through the bodies to the other end of the house. He has to get home; he has to get out of here.
“Where are you off to?” Zayn asks stopping Harry by his arm.
“Home. I want to go home,” Harry mumbles trying to shake him off, he’s not taking the hint.
“You only just got here, H,” he says. Harry looks at his phone. It’s four in the morning.
“We’ve been here since eleven, Zayn, it’s four, I just want to go home,” he says prying Zayn’s fingers off of his arm.
“It’s four?” he asks. Harry nods. “What’s the matter? You look upset,”
“Nothing, I just really want to leave,” Harry says. His head is pounding, and he thinks he’ll fall asleep standing right here if he doesn’t leave soon.
“You look like a right mess, mate, your hair is a disaster,” Zayn says pulling on a curl. Harry slaps his hand away. “What’s this?”
“Please, Zayn,” Harry whines as he runs his thumb over the red marks on his neck and collar bones.
“Looks like you got mauled, who was it this time?” Zayn asks trying to play it off as a joke, but Harry knows he’s worried.
“Nobody,” Harry mumbles.
“Louis?” Zayn asks tensely.
“No,” Harry says ducking his head low, he knows Zayn can see through his bullshit, especially now when he has no control over himself.
“Harry,” Zayn says shaking his head.
“It wasn’t, okay? Just some girl I met when at the table with the coke,” Harry snaps.
“You were at the table with Louis last time I saw you,” Zayn says testing Harry.
“There were lots of people at the table,” Harry tries.
“You can’t keep messing around with him, it’s not healthy for either of you,” Zayn says. “It’s bad for all of us,”
“I get it, okay? I fucked up and I just keep doing it, I understand alright, just stop,” Harry begs, feeling himself breaking down.
Harry turns to walk away from Zayn and bumps right into a girl, she spills her drink all over his shirt and jeans. “Shit, so sorry,” she slurs.
Harry closes his eyes for a moment, so he doesn’t get mad, it’s not her fault he tells himself. “It’s okay, can I get you a new drink?”
“Harry, no, come on,” Zayn grabs his arm again. Harry roughly shakes him off.
“Sure, maybe I can find you a new shirt,” the girl flirts.
Harry wants to get sick thinking about being with anyone other than Louis, but this is the only way to get Zayn away from him. So, Harry smiles and rests his hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “Yeah, babe, maybe you can,”
Zayn tries to pull Harry back and tell him that he shouldn’t do this in his or her state, but Harry just shrugs him off and walks away with her.
He sees Louis walk out of the room alone that they were just in together. It feels like it happens in slow motion to Harry. He sees Louis walk out, he passes him in the hallway and their eyes lock. Harry feels like he can hear the unspoken ‘fuck you’ as Louis watches Harry take the girl into the bathroom. Harry wishes he had listened to Zayn.
♠️
Harry cries after she gets dressed and walks out when they’ve finished. He can’t remember why he did it, how he met her, or what her name was. He does know that he saw the look on Louis’ face the whole time he was fucking her. He knows that he wishes it was Louis, he knows that he desperately wants something more to take him out of his mind.
Harry grips the vanity so hard that his knuckles turn white and pinches his eyes closed so tight that he sees stars. He wills his eyes to dry up, he sniffles a few times, his nose backed up from the night and from crying, and pulls his beer-stained shirt back over his head.
Harry catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and really wishes he hadn’t. It sobers him up a little bit to see his disheveled hair, the red marks that you can play connect the dots with all over his neck and chest, the dark circles, the bloodshot eyes. Everything that he wishes he wasn’t seeing, but everything that he’s done to himself. Willingly.
I want Louis. I need Louis. Please be out there, please meet me in the hallway. Harry silently pleads.
Something in the universe takes pity on Harry, maybe because he’s reached rock bottom, maybe because he’s so pathetic and it feels sorry for him. Either way, when Harry unlocks the door and walks out, Louis is leaning against the wall across from him.
“Hi,”
“Hi,” Louis says, irritation clear in his voice.
“I’m s-“
Louis puts his hand up to stop him. “Don’t even,” Louis says seriously. Harry drops his head. “I’m taking you home,”
“You don’t have to,” Harry says quietly.
“I should’ve taken you home earlier instead of following you to that bedroom,” Louis says bitterly. Harry feels his heart shatter inside his chest. Harry just nods, takes Louis’ hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd, and follows him to the town car.
The ride to Harry’s house is silent and awkward. Louis shoves water into Harry’s hand and up to his mouth the whole way back. Harry wants to tell him that water isn’t going to sober him up, but he’s touching him, he’s looking at him, and he’s making sure he gets home safe, so he doesn’t say anything. He lets Louis bitterly take care of him.
Louis helps Harry into his house and up to his bedroom. He tries not to lean on Louis too much, but he almost can’t feel his legs, he’s so tired that he can barely walk, and he just wants to show Louis how sorry he is. But he can’t. And Louis doesn’t care to let him try. It’s always the same game.
“You could stay, if you want,” He says quietly as Louis pulls off Harry’s jeans and his shirt that smell like tequila and beer. Louis tries not to gag. He’s over the party scene but it keeps pulling him back, keeps Harry locked in.
“No,” Louis says. He grabs the first pair of sweatpants he sees in Harry’s drawers and finishes stripping Harry of his clothes and walks him backward into the shower.
“It’s bloody freezing, what’s wrong with you!” Harry yells once he’s under the water holding onto Louis’ hand.
Louis bites back a smile. “Sorry, mate. My bad,”
Harry lets Louis wash him, careful not to make it anything sensual, strictly business now. It makes Harry feel sick. “I can take care of myself,” he doesn’t say it hurtfully, just as an offer to let Louis off the hook.
“You really can’t, Harry, if you could, I wouldn’t be here,” Louis says not matching Harry’s soft voice.
Louis hands Harry a towel to dry off and catches him before he falls over, still inebriated. Harry climbs into his bed, on his side, and Louis pulls the duvet over him.
“You can stay, Lou,” Harry says and then realizes he already asked and already got denied. “Please stay,” he tries again.
“I can’t, H, we don’t do that,” Louis says softer, kinder.
“We could,” Harry says sounding small.
Louis doesn’t respond for what feels like an eternity. In one quick moment, he pulls the covers back and climbs into bed, cuddling in with his back to Harry’s chest.
Harry is shocked for a moment. Shocked that Louis is letting him this close to him so intimately. He doesn’t even look at Harry when they’re having sex, usually, he makes it a point that they don’t face each other. There’s no intimacy since they broke up two months ago. The closest Louis has let Harry get to intimacy anymore is when Louis brings him home and puts him in bed. Sometimes he stays until Harry’s asleep, usually, he doesn’t.
“Why’d you do that to me, Harry?” Louis asks quietly.
“I took you for granted, I got caught up in the life that the band brought,” Harry starts.
“I meant tonight,” Louis says after a moment. “How could you sleep with me and then twenty minutes later walk right by me and fuck someone else in the bathroom?”
Harry had been hoping that Louis had missed that. He had hoped that he didn’t realize what was going on. But of course, he did because he stared right at him as he had his hand in her back pocket and he looked right at Louis as he shut the door and locked it. Harry wonders who the hell he thinks he is to treat someone like that. To treat Louis like that.
“I only wanted you to notice me,” Harry says embarrassed that he’s lying to Louis. That he’s lying to himself. He didn’t mean to do anything to Louis, he was just trying to make it through the night.
“I did. I always notice you,” Louis says with a low sigh.
“You do?” Harry asks.
“Go to sleep, Harry,” Louis says. “I’m only staying until you’re asleep,”
Harry goes to sleep holding tightly to Louis, holding him against his chest and pulling him close to his body.
When he wakes up, Louis is still there, eyes closed and the soft orange sunrise lighting his face. He goes back to sleep just to make sure it isn’t a dream.
When he wakes up for the second time, Louis is gone, but his sheets smell just like him