[1D fic] Truth be told
Jul. 19th, 2012 08:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
adelagiaTitle: Truth be told
Summary: Louis wishes a lot of things.
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 571
Notes: Well, I wrote 1D fic. This is my life now. Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
accordingtomel for looking this over, and for getting me into 1D in the first place. (And by thank you, I mean curse you, bb. ♥)
No one ever suspects Louis of being particularly clever. Average marks in school, loud when there's no need to be, spirited to the limits of annoyance, Louis is pretty sure anyone affording him a second glance would think guile beyond his measure. Which is fine by him; he doesn't like it when people get too close, close enough to find the cracks in his smile.
The people who matter can already read him well enough without him having to spell it out, and the people who don't, well, they're the ones his words are for.
Harry, bless his beautiful heart, does a lot of things on impulse that he ought regret later (but usually doesn't, which Louis finds both infuriating and brilliant), and by unspoken band agreement, isn't allowed to talk anymore when idiot journalists ask wildly inappropriate questions about their sexualities and beards and that. Instead, it falls to Louis, and occasionally one of the others if they think he's floundering and needs a hand, to spit out word jumbles that mean quite the opposite of what his mouth says.
He thinks he can get away with it. It's not the preferable alternative -- which is to employ his best bitch, please face and just sit in pointed silence until the interviewer dies of awkwardness (Niall has offered to pay him real money for this to happen; Louis is holding out for leprechaun gold) -- but it's the best he can do for now to keep the truth sacred and safe. He chooses his words carefully; it's not always the easiest even if he's expecting the question, and sometimes he finds himself falling back on phrases that have seen him through tight spots before. If he sounds scripted, it's because he's practised it in his head a thousand times.
It keeps everyone happy, for the most part.
Harry, predictably, thinks the whole setup is utter bullshit even as he understands the need for it. It's not difficult to tell; Harry doesn't just wear his heart on his sleeve, he carries around a giant, neon TODAY I FEEL chart. He fidgets, frustrated and stony-faced, during stupid interviews; stares, frowning, whenever someone else is dominating Louis' attention; and then parades around on stage making suggestive gestures to Louis every night in front of thousands ("-- of eleven-year-old girls, Hazza!" "What? I wasn't trying to push your face into my crotch, I was just trying to play leapfrog. You're the one with the dirty mind.") It's pointless to tell him to rein it in, because they both know that a) Harry needs some kind of outlet, and b) Louis delights in it just as much as he does.
Truth be told, Louis wishes he could be the one to give the finger to the rigidity of their management and the world at large in the little ways Harry does all the time, wishes he doesn't have to recruit Zayn to ambush him with brazen questions about his relationship with Harry so he will never be blindsided at interviews, wishes he could stop pretending to feel something other than resignation whenever Eleanor's at his side instead of Harry.
Louis wishes a lot of things, but wishing doesn't get him anywhere, doesn't keep Harry safe. So he'll smile and answer tasteless questions, smile and take Eleanor's hand, smile and hold the truth in his heart, until the day when they won't have to wish anymore.
Summary: Louis wishes a lot of things.
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 571
Notes: Well, I wrote 1D fic. This is my life now. Thank you to
accordingtomel for looking this over, and for getting me into 1D in the first place. (And by thank you, I mean curse you, bb. ♥)No one ever suspects Louis of being particularly clever. Average marks in school, loud when there's no need to be, spirited to the limits of annoyance, Louis is pretty sure anyone affording him a second glance would think guile beyond his measure. Which is fine by him; he doesn't like it when people get too close, close enough to find the cracks in his smile.
The people who matter can already read him well enough without him having to spell it out, and the people who don't, well, they're the ones his words are for.
Harry, bless his beautiful heart, does a lot of things on impulse that he ought regret later (but usually doesn't, which Louis finds both infuriating and brilliant), and by unspoken band agreement, isn't allowed to talk anymore when idiot journalists ask wildly inappropriate questions about their sexualities and beards and that. Instead, it falls to Louis, and occasionally one of the others if they think he's floundering and needs a hand, to spit out word jumbles that mean quite the opposite of what his mouth says.
He thinks he can get away with it. It's not the preferable alternative -- which is to employ his best bitch, please face and just sit in pointed silence until the interviewer dies of awkwardness (Niall has offered to pay him real money for this to happen; Louis is holding out for leprechaun gold) -- but it's the best he can do for now to keep the truth sacred and safe. He chooses his words carefully; it's not always the easiest even if he's expecting the question, and sometimes he finds himself falling back on phrases that have seen him through tight spots before. If he sounds scripted, it's because he's practised it in his head a thousand times.
It keeps everyone happy, for the most part.
Harry, predictably, thinks the whole setup is utter bullshit even as he understands the need for it. It's not difficult to tell; Harry doesn't just wear his heart on his sleeve, he carries around a giant, neon TODAY I FEEL chart. He fidgets, frustrated and stony-faced, during stupid interviews; stares, frowning, whenever someone else is dominating Louis' attention; and then parades around on stage making suggestive gestures to Louis every night in front of thousands ("-- of eleven-year-old girls, Hazza!" "What? I wasn't trying to push your face into my crotch, I was just trying to play leapfrog. You're the one with the dirty mind.") It's pointless to tell him to rein it in, because they both know that a) Harry needs some kind of outlet, and b) Louis delights in it just as much as he does.
Truth be told, Louis wishes he could be the one to give the finger to the rigidity of their management and the world at large in the little ways Harry does all the time, wishes he doesn't have to recruit Zayn to ambush him with brazen questions about his relationship with Harry so he will never be blindsided at interviews, wishes he could stop pretending to feel something other than resignation whenever Eleanor's at his side instead of Harry.
Louis wishes a lot of things, but wishing doesn't get him anywhere, doesn't keep Harry safe. So he'll smile and answer tasteless questions, smile and take Eleanor's hand, smile and hold the truth in his heart, until the day when they won't have to wish anymore.
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no subject
on 2012-07-20 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-07-21 03:58 am (UTC)LOL, Tony. I love how in your fic he's like, "That's your master plan, isn't it? Pepper, Pepper, answer me. Pepper." *g*
no subject
on 2012-07-20 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2012-07-21 04:02 am (UTC)Thank you for taking the time to read and comment! :)