The Brother I Never Wanted (Larry AU)

Chapter 18

"Louis, time to get up!"

A loud voice through the door startles him from his slumber, making him jerk slightly in protest and peel open his bleary eyes. The first thing he sees when he wakes up, though, is bed sheets. And not just any bed sheets - not his bed sheets. They're a light blue instead of white. If that wasn't strange enough, there's a weight across his midsection, and when he glances down, tattoos sprawl across his vision. He shifts his foot, surprised to find it hooked between legs behind him. His lungs shutter in utter befuddlement before he realizes what's happening. Oh, it's just Harry. He takes a deep breath, squirming under the boy sprawled on top of him. Louis leans over his unconscious, soft snoring body, rubbing his eyes as he glances at the clock.

The numbers are fuzzy at first, so he has to kind of squint, but then it finally clicks. It's kind of really late, and he should really get up to dress for school, but then again. Why would he do that when he can sleep for another five minutes? He shifts to squirm back into the place his body was occupying before, the warmth feeling like a drug that pulls at his eyelids. Just five more minutes. The arm around his body squeezes a little harder, and he hears the soft rustle of sheets as Harry shifts in his sleep, breath tickling his spine. "Mm."

"Louis, it's six-thirty! You better be up."

Louis clenches his eyes tighter, trying his best to fall into darkness so he can't be guilted into getting out of bed. The world outside is so cold, and he's so blissful in this heat.

"Louis, don't make me come up there!"

The threat doesn't really do anything until he realizes that he's, in fact, not in his room, and his heart stops. s**t. His eyes spring open. He reaches back across Harry and swipes his glasses off the side table, slinking out of Harry's bed and secretly sending a few glances at the boy still cuddled around the empty dip in the bed. He grabs his vans off the floor, lip snagged between his teeth. There's almost something scandalous about sneaking out of his stepbrother's room in the early hours of the morning, clad in yesterday's clothes, that has his heart pumping.

Harry doesn't even stir when he sprints from his room, dead to the world around him. And Louis feels like a young teenage girl, checking the hallway on his way up to his bedroom so as not to get caught with disheveled hair and his shoes in his hand. He breathes in relief, but maybe also feels a little flutter of giddiness in his chest knowing that he didn't get caught.

Louis rushes to get ready for school, tugging on his jeans and trying to brush his teeth at the same time. It doesn't work very well, and he just ends up with some white paste in his hair. He quickly rinses it out in the sink, shocked to find that he actually looks somewhat presentable when it's all over and he composes himself. It's not how he'd like to look for an interview or anything, but for school it'll work. Skipping down the stairs, he quickly throws himself at his dad, capturing in a brief, bone-crushing hug that makes him grunt, and he greets his step mum, kissing her cheek. She starts, touching the spot with a shocked, pleased gape.

"Morning, Anne! Dad."

"Someone's chipper today," his dad comments. "Finally wake up on the right side of the bed this time?" He turns to his step mum, smiling fondly. "This one is nearly impossible to get out of bed in the morning. The only thing that gets him out of bed is the mention of school or some book he's been fantasizing about."

Smiling, Louis darts to the door, car keys in hand. "Bye, dad."

"Whoa, where are you going?"

Quick, Louis. Think. Is this a trick question? "Uh, my car?" He answers uncertainly, sliding his hand off the knob.

"No, we're going out. Go out to my car and wait for me." Louis' face contorts. What's going on? They're going somewhere? As in, not school? He stuffs his keys in his pockets, lips frowning. Why does he have to wake up this early if his dad doesn't plan on taking him to school? This is not okay.

"But it's Tuesday . . . I have school."

"You deserve a break. You've been working so hard. Come on, I'll call you into school sick today."

Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously. Is this a trick to get him alone and discuss Harry in a way that makes it seem like he's not trying to directly bring up Harry? Probably. "What the hell, dad? You could've let me sleep in a little! The only reason I got out of bed was so that I didn't miss school!" Louis voices his earlier thought to emphasize his point. "This is not okay! This is cruel and unusual punishment."

"Don't be so dramatic, Lou."

"I hate you," he grumbles bitterly.

Louis leaves his father in the kitchen and exits the house into the cold garage. He shivers, clicking his tongue in irritation at the fact that he could still be in bed right now, but he gets in the passenger seat anyway, strapping himself in. And to think he's missing review days for finals at school. His dad slides in a couple minutes later, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Um, where are we going?"

"We are going to have a father, son day. Remember? We planned this like a month ago after your last regular season football game. Didn't you mark it on your calendar a couple of weeks ago? I swear I saw you do it."

"Oh." A blush works its way onto his cheeks. He didn't check his calendar like he usually does because he wasn't in his room this morning. Oops. "Right." He puts his chin in his palm and looks out the window, sighing. When did his life become so complicated?

"Perk up, love. We're going to your favorite place."

He sits up a little straighter in his seat, already knowing where this is going and very pleased, to say the least. "We're going to Benny's?"

His father nods, and Louis beams, biting down on his bottom lip. He feels a little bit of the dark cloud drift away at the mention of something so heavenly, but a majority still hangs over him and he's sure it will stay for a while. Harry's a little bit of a problem.

Benny's is an old fashioned diner on the other side of town with the best chips and shakes around. It's got maroon colored walls and checkered tiles like they always depict in the movies, and there's even a jukebox in the corner. It's like porn. Oh, and don't even get Louis started on the food. Dear lord. He wants to drown in a tub of their shakes. Their menu consists of mostly hamburgers, but it's all homemade and always f*****g incredible. If you ask him, small town food is the best. And Louis couldn't have been happier, digging into his burger with a moan. That is, until his dad mentions something that makes his blood freeze. But he really should've expected something like this.

"So . . . Did something happen between you and Harry?"

He swallows around his big bite of burger, nearly choking and coughing it back out. His throat burns as it squeezes down and he instantly reaches for his water to calm it. "What makes you think something happened?"

"He just seemed tense after that whole discussion about his punishment. You hardly talked to him at all. And I know you guys aren't besties or anything, but I really thought you guys were getting on. Then that whole suspension thing happened. At this point, it's second nature that my first thought was that you guys fought again or something."

Louis sets down his burger, avoiding his eyes. Did something happen? He doesn't think Harry was all that mad at him, but maybe he was wrong. s**t. Is he mad? "No, nothing like that happened."

"Lou, you can tell me anything. You know that."

Yes, he f*****g knows that. He's known that since his mum died because he keeps reminding him. But Harry's the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now. His dad's got him all paranoid again, and he knows he'll dwell on the fact unless he distracts himself. At first, it was kind of thrilling, but now he just feels guilty and drained. "I just . . . I don't want to talk about Harry. I know it will make me feel worse than I already do, and I'll end up ruining this day for you. I just want to spend this day like we used to and not have to worry about my problems right now. You were right. I need this. It's nothing anyway. He probably just hates being grounded." At least, Louis hopes that's all it is.

They both made a sort of silent agreement, and they happily change the subject to the weather, football, really anything that they can think of. It's a pleasant turn in the atmosphere. His chest feels lighter than it did, and the throbbing behind his eyebrow has faded to a dull ache. For once, the crinkles by his eyes are not due to stress, but from happiness. It's so bloody nice. He's missed this.

The two of them go to all sorts of places around the town. They did a little bit of everything. They went bowling, took a walk in the park, fed the ducks, you name it. And Louis basks in the memories of his childhood, seeing as it's almost better this time around because he feels like he's emerged from the dark hole that is high school. Together, they even count the number of red cars like they did when he was little. He feels free from his problems for a while, and his face is flushed from laughter instead of etched in a frown. His dad even makes up stories for everyone they pass on the street, finding it especially hilarious when his dad tries to read their lips and insert words into their dialogue. It's spot on.

His smile freezes, however, when he sees a teenage couple. He doesn't know why. There's nothing special about them really. They're very cute together and all that. But there's just something in the way they look so complete, gazing into each other's eyes like lovestruck fawns that makes his heart ache. He wants something like that one day. Though it seems impossible with the way he's managed to repel most of the boys at his school by even breathing the same air as them. He's snapped back to reality by his dad's sharp gray eyes. "Are you alright, Lou? You look a little pale."

Louis smiles weakly, tugging at his beanie self-consciously. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure? It's a little chilly. You're not getting a cold, are you? I think your nose is a little red. Maybe we should -"

"Dad, I'm fine," he reassures. "I'm not sick. C-Can we just stay here for a while? I want to people watch." He can't remember the last time he was outside to be outside. He's always doing something. Whether that's rushing to his car to avoid the frosty spring air, or running his muscles dry at football practice. Yes, he thinks he wants to just sit here for a while. He can actually breathe.

Louis sees a combination of everything really, and he's amazed at the variety. He didn't expect to see so many different life stories pass by his eyes in such a small town. But he does. He sees young families, old couples, best friends, two people who obviously have a crush on each other based on the blush on their cheeks, and he knows all of them - their names anyway. He just never thought to really compare his life to anyone else's before. A little girl even throws a fit because her dad doesn't have money to buy her a donut, and Louis didn't really want to intrude, but he does anyway. Walking up to the counter, he pays for the donut himself and gives it to her. The sparkle and adoration in her bright eyes is enough to renew a little bit of that flame that is the old Louis deep within him, and the dad gives him a beautiful, gracious smile. Louis just smiles back.

Eventually they decide to go back after lunch, as all good things end. And Louis thinks he sees the back of Harry's head once as they walk along. He almost trips on a crack in the sidewalk before realizing that the head of hair is not curly enough, breath stuttering in fear and his heart hammers faster. It's then that he realizes how ridiculous he's being. It's really his dad's fault though.

"Lou, you still haven't brought that boyfriend of yours home yet."

"I don't have one," he chuckles, rolling his eyes slightly because he knows he's teasing him.

"That's a bloody crime, that is. Especially after you gave that little girl a donut. You even melted my poor old heart."

Louis' cheeks turn red and blotchy, and he hides his face behind his hand. "Dad, please stop. I don't want a boyfriend."

He clicks his tongue in disbelief, mouth twitching like he doesn't believe him. And frankly, Louis doesn't believe himself either. "You know, Lou. My friend from work, Joe, has a son who's in Uni right now. Just got back from break actually, so he's in town and everything. I've heard nice things about the boy. He's apparently top of his class at London University, and he's majoring in law. If that doesn't scream impressive, I'm not sure what will."

Honestly, he's surprised that his dad would offer an older man, but considering his options, maybe it makes sense. He probably thinks they'll be more mature than a high school boy. And he's probably right. The boys at his school are idiots. Take Niall for example. But, even then, he kind of feels like his dad is pressing on him to take this next step in his life, and he's not sure if he's ready. Especially with someone he's never met.

"I can ask Joe to set up a date, if you'd like?"

"I don't know, dad. Now really isn't the best time. I've got football finals and studying -"

"When will you ever be ready then, Lou? Every time I ask, you say you're too busy. You always have your nose in a book. Why don't you put those books away for once in your life and actually have some fun. Normally, a parent would be relieved to have a child like that, but I've seen it for almost eighteen years, and I'd like to see you be an actual teenager for once. Just to make sure I didn't totally screw you up." Louis frowns. His dad thinks he's a screw up? Well, that hurts. That's a f*****g punch to the chest, more like. "Just give it a shot? You don't have to go on a date or anything with him. Just meet him a couple of times and then I'll let you decide. He's a nice lad, I'm sure."

He feels lucky enough that his dad accepts his sexuality this well and is willing to help make him happy. But is setting him up on a blind date going to make him any less of a screw up? He doesn't want to go on a date at all. The idea of being alone with a guy and having all the attention on him makes him a little nauseous. Maybe he should just get a cat instead. It sounds like a good plan to him.

"Can't I be a normal teenager without dating another boy?" He stuffs his hands in his pockets and jogs his arms up and down anxiously. "I don't think I'm ready."

"Louis, you're one of the most mature teenagers I've ever met. I honestly think you'll be much better equipped than any other couples at your school who only get together for popularity or to not be excluded from social norms. You've waited this long. I think you should start looking. You don't want to end up alone, do you? Because your future husband won't wait for you forever. Eventually he'll get bored of chasing you and go after someone else. You'll have to go out and look for him too. It's scary the first time you throw yourself into something unknown, I know. But it's how it works. Take your stepmother and I for example. If she hadn't started a conversation with me on the bus, then we wouldn't be where we are now. And I wouldn't change that for anything in the world."

Louis chews his lip. Maybe he's right. Maybe he should start looking. "Sure, okay. I'll give him a shot."

His dad looks pleased. "Aw, my Lou is growing up."

"Stop," he warns, holding up a finger.

*********

His dad gives him a look as soon as they get back home, and he raises his eyebrows. "We're going to have a quick family meeting. Go sit in the living room while I get your brother."

"What about mum?"

His mouth parts at the term, and a happy sparkle appears in his father's eyes. He seems so pleased that Louis has finally accepted that his girlfriend is a part of the family. It's been many years since he's seen that twinkle - since his mum died. Louis doesn't have the heart to tell him it was a slip of the mouth.

"She's at the grocery store, but this is just about you and Harry." Louis juts his bottom lip out in irritation. Why does he insist on trying to fix everything between them. Wouldn't it be healthier if they worked it out themselves? Louis thinks so. "I need you boys to do something for me." And, okay, that's not exactly what he was expecting.

He disappears down the hallway, and Louis hears the rasp of his fist on the door and Harry's low voice. He shivers, sinking into his spot on the couch and chewing on his thumbnail while he waits for them to come back. Harry purposefully avoids his eyes when he enters, no matter how long and intensely Louis begs him to look. He wonders just how much he remembers from last night or if he has the same regrets and anxiety that he has about it.

His dad hands them old towels from a bottom drawer in the kitchen and fills a bucket with water and soap. "Here." He shoves the water at Harry and the rags at Louis. "Chore time!" He chirps.

Harry groans out loud, but Louis just bites his lip. He doesn't necessarily oppose chores, unless it involves weight-bearing. But what would they do with these materials? Clean the floor? "What the hell is this for?" Harry voices the question that has been swirling in his brain.

"You lucky lads have the joy of cleaning the cars. Make sure they shine, boys. I want to see my reflection."

Louis purses his lips, c*****g his head in a smart-arse kind of way. "Are you sure there's not an alternative motive for doing this?" He keeps the question quiet, hiding it from Harry's ears the best he can, and his dad just smiles. This is definitely mostly just for bonding time with Harry. "Actually, dad. I have to study -"

"Louis, you've been studying nonstop for the past week. I think you'll be okay." Ugh.

Going back outside, the afternoon sun feels nice on his face and hands and he decides he can shed his coat, and he does, leaving himself in a t-shirt. His dad leads Louis around the side of their small house to where the hose is. He helps him unwind it and drag it over to where Harry's waiting, bucket by his feet. It's a win-win situation according to his dad - being productive and bonding together, though Louis completely disagrees. Once they get the hose untangled, he leaves them to it and the air turns silent. He briefly looks into Harry's emerald eyes and coughs, starting by waving him aside and rinsing the first car down.

It all goes pretty smoothly until Harry decides to take his revenge on him now and take the hose from him. For what, he's not entirely sure, but he gets a kick out of it either way. His spindly thumb slots over the end and the water goes everywhere, sprinkling him. Louis jumps back in disbelief. "What the f**k, Harry?" His stepbrother just sprays him again. A large wet spot develops on the front of his shirt, and Louis listens, appalled, to the water drip from his clothes onto the pavement. Harry raises his lips into a smirk. A light breeze runs across their driveway and raises goosebumps on his damp skin.

"You're an arse," he states, putting a hand on his soggy hip.

Without a response, he goes back to scrubbing the car, flinching and expecting another spray each time Harry moves in his peripheral vision. Louis' only able to crack his uncomfortable silence when he has to practically bend over the hood to reach the middle of the windshield and Harry's staring when he looks over his shoulder.

"Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there and stare at my arse?"

Harry simply smirks, and Louis has no idea what to make of that. He wonders if maybe, just maybe he's not mad at him after all. Harry doesn't seem nearly as upset as he was before - when they started. He's looking at him now, at least. He walks away briefly, around the side of the house, to turn off the hose and grabs his rag off where it's hanging on his shoulder, dipping it in the soapy bucket and starting on the window next to him.

"I was not staring at your arse," he states defensively. "Though it does make me wish I had done more squats." Louis scoffs, watching his muscles bulge and constrict, then flicks over the rest of him, focusing on the red patterned fabric that seem to be permanently wrapped around his curls.

"Why do you always wear that stupid bandana?"

The smirk dips into a frown. "Stupid?"

Louis doesn't want to admit he only thinks it's stupid because he looks better without. Though, stupid was probably a bad way to describe it. "Sorry, not stupid."

He fingers the fabric on his head, sucking in his bottom lip and tucking in a stray curl that, frankly, had been driving Louis crazy. "Why do you always wear glasses?" he retorts. "I know you don't really need them." That's a very good question actually. To be honest, he doesn't really know himself.

"I feel bare without them," he answers truthfully. "Like my face is naked. I don't know. It's an insecurity thing."

Harry doesn't seem to have been prepared for him to actually answer. But maybe it's time he starts answering. Maybe if they start being honest with each other, they'll find a way to get along. "Insecure about what?"

"Everything."

He suddenly halts his cleaning, frown still clear on his features. It's wrong. It doesn't look right. Harry's face was made to smile, not frown. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I'm trying to make this work." Louis says softly, flicking a finger between them. A breathtaking smile splits across Harrys lips, and he believes that for once it's actually genuine. His heart skips a beat, not quite understanding how it could be directed at him.

When he's not looking, Harry sneaks back around to the hose crank and turns the water back on. And he turns, only to come face to face with Harry with a hose. Oh god, not again. He quickly puts his hands up in surrender, not wanting to get wet again. "Harry, put the hose down before someone gets hurt."

Harry doesn't hold back this time, hitting him full-on with the spray. It resembles a bunch of needles slicing into his skin and he splutters, jumping to the side. It's not as successful as he had hoped. Harry keeps it aimed on him, following him with the water, and he squeals because he can't escape. Freezing water just keeps slapping his chest. "It's so cold! Harry!" He stops only when he's soaked from head to toe, and Louis gapes. "What the hell was that for?"

He reaches up to wipe off his glasses with his sleeve, but it's still foggy and damp. It's hard to see the expression on his face, but he can hear a roll of bubbly laughter rise from his throat. It's husky and beautiful. But that doesn't really surprise him anymore. Louis has the sudden and very strong urge to wonder if he has a girlfriend. Surely he does. How could he not?

Louis keeps the repulsion clear on his face and wrings out his shirt. "You're not exactly making ground on the whole getting along thing right now. My dad would be very disappointed."

Harry's white teeth glint in the sunlight. "I beg to differ."

Huffing, he rips the hose from his hands and turns it on him. Harry gasps in shock, squirming. "s**t, that's cold."

"Told ya."

Louis kind of regrets it immediately after though as he can see his tattoos through his wet shirt and a good portion of his muscled chest. It's kind of really aesthetically pleasing. Water drips down his tanned face and over the curve of his lips, disappearing as it hits his white teeth. His curls aren't very wet so he rips his gaze from his chest and aims there. He tries, unsuccessfully, to block the stream and reaches for the hose.

"Stop!"

His breathing is rough as if the cold knocked the air right out of him. "I give up," he chants. "I give up. Put it down, put it down." Louis feels pretty accomplished after that, so he finally puts it down by his side. "Thank you," he pants. There are goosebumps all over his golden skin and he looks like a wet dog. But, you know . . . Hotter. His body shivers, and he licks over his wet lip before spitting it out. "Oh God, that tastes awful."

"You asked for it."

His soggy headband sags down into his face and he flinches, peeling it off. Louis can't help the laugh that snorts out. "You look ridiculous."

Scowling in displeasure, he leans over and shakes his hair out, ruffling it with his hands so that it flings at Louis, and he squeaks. "Ah!" There's a moment of silence where Harry's fixing his curls with a chuckle, and Louis' just staring without his immediate knowledge, but it's a pleasant kind of silence. One where you don't really feel the need to say something because it's not awkward, and he likes that.

"Are we cool then? You're not mad at me, are you?"

Harry let's out a long sigh, putting a hand casually on the car beside his shoulder. His large hand a is stark contrast to his shoulder. He looks like someone who likes to - or could -manhandle someone. Not in a bad way, per say, Louis would like to add. "Who said I was mad at you?"

Louis shrugs, confused. "Aren't you? I got you in trouble."

"Mmm, nope."

"Not even about last night?"

"What about last night would make you think I was mad at you?" Amusement glitters in his eyes, turning them a sparkly green.

"Depends," Louis says slowly, cautiously. "How much do you remember?"

"I remember these." Without so much as a warning, Harry touches his lips, running his thumb down and grabbing his bottom lip. He lets it pop back when his heart seemingly falters and his cheeks flame. His lip hums pleasantly where Harry touched him, and Louis kind of wants to feel it pulse under his fingertips. "Do you use lip balm?"

"I didn't realize they were memorable." Louis feels jittery and awkward, palms becoming moist against his thighs. Because Harry just touched his f*****g lips. On purpose. And he blurted something really stupid and not at all smooth.

"I wasn't that drunk."

Harry smirks when Louis is struck dumb, ribcage constricting as he processes the words he just said. But he was acting like a child...Surely he was a little drunk, right? The front door clicks open and his dad comes out, stalking down the sidewalk, and Harry takes a step back. "I don't see a lot of scrubbing going on out here. What's going on? Do you need more soap - Louis, are you alright?"

Louis' face is red and his head down, heart thumping painfully against his chest. So, is he alright? No, not really. "Peachy."

Harry salutes his dad. "We'll get right on it, sir."