Work Text:
They buy the rings the week before Valentine’s Day.
Harry saves his paycheck from the movie theater and Louis weasels few extra dollars out of his mom for “school supplies”, because this has to be absolutely perfect. They’re going all out with this, they’ve decided. They can’t get something cheap out of a gumball machine, obviously, but they can’t afford anything really fancy, either. They settle for two simple, silver bands from a cheap department store - they even have cash left over afterwards to eat at Louis’ favorite burger joint - and then they’re all set. They’re actually doing this.
“We should skip school that day,” Louis says after he’s wiped the mess off his face from his burger. Harry’s got ketchup on the very tip of his nose, and Louis quite likes how adorable it looks so he doesn’t bother mentioning it.
Harry mumbles something with a mouth full of food that sounds like, “What do you mean?”
“Like--” Louis sets his napkin down. “We both just turned 18, so it’s already believable enough, I guess. But if we skip school on Valentine’s day, then show up the next day with fucking rings on our fingers, someone is bound to ask.”
Harry’s eyes light up and he swallows loudly. “Genius, man. You’re a genius.”
Louis knows, but it’s nice to hear, regardless.
_
When Niall had told Harry and Louis that he was planning on releasing chickens in the cafeteria during the senior luncheon, Louis had sent Harry a telling mischievous grin (which Harry had promptly rolled his eyes at, but gave into mere hours later - he’s awful at saying no to Louis). It’d become Louis’ personal vendetta after that, unbeknownst to Niall, to have the best senior prank possible, something that would have people talking for months or years. Harry had been the one to suggest faking a marriage, with bright eyes and a smug grin, and Louis had nearly choked at the thought of it.
“Are you insane?” Louis had said after Harry mentioned it, before going back to his previous idea of putting rats in their principal’s desk.
“No, hear me out,” Harry said, putting his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “We’re like, best friends. Everyone knows that. If we slap on a couple of rings, act like we’re all happy and shit--” Harry’s eyes moved quickly over Louis’ face to gauge a reaction. Louis looked mostly confused. “Listen, I swear it’ll work. One person will ask, and that’ll be it. They’ll tell someone, who will tell someone, and soon everyone will be talking about it.”
Harry’s got a point, Louis thinks. Their high school is notoriously gossip ridden and news travels extremely fast. Once there’s a scandal or even a mildly boring piece of gossip, everyone latches onto it for weeks. It could work, Harry’s right. So, they pulled out a spiral notebook and started jotting down ideas.
“We could do it on Valentine’s day,” Harry suggested. “Like, come to school the day after and everyone will think we got hitched on the day of love.”
“You’re so romantic, Styles,” Louis said dramatically, before both of them had dissolved into a fit of giggles.
It went on like that for weeks, plotting and preparing for a prank that ultimately could not even get off the ground, and they were absolutely buzzing by the time Valentine’s day rolled around. They have the rings, they match up their stories in case anyone were to ask for details, and they both call in sick to school the morning of Valentine’s day.
Harry and Louis are officially married, or something.
_
The ring is fucking uncomfortable. It’s too bulky on Louis’ small finger and he wants to rip it off and chuck it across the room right up to the second before the guy in his English Lit class leans over during the lesson.
“Nice ring, man,” he whispers and Louis clears his throat and nods, twisting the ring around his finger nervously.
He might be sweating, but he isn’t sure if that’s just his mind playing tricks on him. Louis wonders if Harry’s gotten any questions yet, if there’s even a need to have this conversation with a random kid in his class - Stan, he thinks his name is - for purposes of the prank. It only takes one person to start a rumor, like Harry had said.
“Is it like--” Stan, Louis thinks his name is definitely Stan, says. He waves his hand around gesturing towards Louis’ hand. “What’s it for? It looks like a wedding ring.”
“It is, uh--” Louis clears his throat loudly. “Wedding. It is a wedding ring.”
Stan’s eyes get wide momentarily before he nods once, smiling awkwardly. “That’s cool, man.”
He leans back to sit normally in his seat, turning forward and shifting his attention back to the teacher. Louis palms are definitely sweating now, and he wipes them on the tops of his thighs. He slowly slides his phone from his front pocket, pulling it out and tapping at the keys quickly and texting Harry before shoving it back into his jeans.
the bird has left the nest..or w/e you told me to say. somebody knows i’m married. here we go ;)
_
Like they imagined, it doesn’t take long for people to start whispering. Once a few people know, or assume, that Louis is married (it’s weird, it’s so weird), they start to play a guessing game. When a girl in Harry’s biology class asks about his new ring later that afternoon, the whispers start getting louder. News travels quickly that both of them have started sporting a new piece of similar jewelry, that they’ve walked more closely in the hallways and started making overly enthusiastic heart eyes at each other during lunch period.
It isn’t until a week later that Zayn slaps Louis on the back in the music room and asks him directly what the hell is going on.
“With what, man?” Louis asks innocently, stuffing his sheet music into his bag.
“Everybody is talking about you. Are you married or some shit? Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you were fucking dating anyone!”
Louis feels awful - Zayn is his best friend, has always been there for him. He thinks that Harry won’t mind if Zayn is in on the secret, but Louis can’t pass up an opportunity to fool even Zayn. He’ll forgive him, probably. “Yeah,” Louis sighs. “On Valentine’s Day, I-- uh, got married. It’s, you know, not really normal for a guy my age, I guess, so we’ve kept it pretty quiet.”
“You married Harry then?” Zayn asks without missing a beat, and that’s--. Okay, that’s not really what Louis expected.
“Yes,” Louis says slowly, squinting his eyes at Zayn. “But how did you know that?”
Zayn snorts. “Well, for one, he’s been flashing his new matching ring around here for the last week and second, if you were stupid enough to marry anyone at eighteen, it’d be Harry.”
Louis glares at him, because he thought at least Zayn would be on his side with this one. He’s not destined to be with Harry, like everyone seems to think. It isn’t like he’s making kissy faces at him on the playground, for fuck’s sake. He’s got a crush on his best friend, big deal, but it isn’t obvious. It just isn’t.
“Yeah, yeah, you called it and so did everyone else. Ha ha ha,” Louis deadpans.
Zayn smirks, pulling Louis into a quick hug. “Congrats, man. You could’ve told me, you asshole. It’s not like all of us didn’t know you were dating anyway. I mean, honestly.”
And Louis is just offended now, above all else. “We weren’t obvious, Zayn, shut up.”
Zayn laughs loudly, pulling back to look Louis in the eye. “Oh, you were serious. Okay, bro, not obvious at all. You’re right.”
Louis punches him in the arm, for good measure.
_
It’s been three weeks of this, and by now everyone knows. They’ve started telling people explicitly, apologizing to friends they didn’t tell and retelling the same story over and over again to anyone who asks. Harry seems extra delighted with the story telling - he starts using his hands a lot and smiles throughout the entire story, and it’s convincing, Louis will admit - and Louis sits next to him fondly nodding along and adding details that Harry may have missed.
In the classes they share together they pass notes with sarcastic scribbles of “hey hubby xoxo ;)” and related nonsense, and in the hallways they hold hands or slip their arms around each others waist. They’ve always been close, touching and verging on flirtation constantly, so this isn’t new for them. It’s weird, Louis thinks, how quickly they fall into the patterns and how easy it is for them to pretend. He tries not to think too much of it.
Harry’s at his house after school on the Friday of the third week of their marriage. They celebrate their anniversary with a twenty-piece chicken nugget meal. Romance isn’t dead, after all.
“This has been better than I even expected,” Louis says after he thinks his stomach is going to explode from all of the chicken nuggets. He lays back on the bed, turning on his side and propping himself up with his elbow. Harry laughs and falls back easily, mimicking Louis’ position.
“Did you see Liam’s face when I said we got the honeymoon suite at the hotel downtown?”
Louis laughs so hard he thinks he’s going to vomit everything he just ate, and he muffles his laughter into his hand. “God, yes. When you started talking about the strawberry lube that was complimentary from the hotel for our stay, I almost lost it.”
Harry blushes a deep shade of red, covering his face with both hands and rolling onto his back. His curls fall into his face, covering the tips of his fingers. Louis wants to twirl one of his curls around his pinky.
“And when you told Zayn that we wore jeans to the courthouse--”
“He called me a hillbilly!” Louis says indignantly, and Harry giggles into his hands.
“God,” he says once they’ve both calmed down. “This has been, like, so fun. Not half bad to be married to you, Lou.”
Louis wills himself not to blush, but he guesses that his face betrays him when Harry smirks subtly. “Yeah, yeah,” Louis says quietly. “How long do you think they’ll believe us?”
Harry shrugs. “Dunno, really. Guess we’ll tell them pretty soon, yeah?” Louis nods. “We could fuck with them a bit more though.”
Louis is intrigued, if anything, especially when Harry gets that special glint in his eye and raises his eyebrows, so he asks, “What’re you thinking, Curly?”
“We could start really laying it on thick, you know? Being extra gross in the hallway or kissing a little, maybe we could even post a few sappy facebook statuses--”
“What?” Louis asks, because they may be best friends, but they don’t kiss. They’ve never -- It just isn’t something that they’ve done. Louis isn’t opposed to it, exactly.
“I said we could post sappy facebook statuses? Like, how much I love my boobear or some shit, people would--”
“No, before that.”
“Be extra gross in the hallway?”
“Harry,” Louis deadpans. He pinches Harry’s nipple once, making him squirm.
“We could kiss?”
“We could kiss.”
“Yeah, I mean--” Harry shrugs casually, but Louis can see the blush creeping back up his neck and the way that his eyes are looking everywhere but Louis’ face. “It’s not a big deal, I mean we’re best friends anyway. And we’re supposed to be married, so like. I don’t know, it’s dumb, we don’t have to.”
“We could kiss,” Louis repeats, nodding.
“I already said it’s dumb, Lou, ‘s alright.” Harry furrows his brow, and looks at Louis directly then, looking a bit embarrassed, and no. Louis can’t have that.
“No, you idiot. We should do it. Let it be the last thing people talk about before we break it to them that we’re actually just single losers.”
Harry giggles at that, and if he moves an inch closer to Louis on the bed, it isn’t something that either of them are going to point out. Louis might even lower his head a bit when he laughs, and possibly lowers his shoulder so that he’s nearly hovering over Harry when they start breathing evenly again.
Harry looks up at Louis, blinking. “Maybe we should practice first.”
Louis quirks an eyebrow at him and smirks, and trust that Harry Styles is just as smooth as everyone says he is. It’s not something Louis has been oblivious to, but it’s different when it’s being used on him. He likes it.
“Practice? Like, now?”
“Yeah. I mean, we wouldn’t want it to be awkward in front of everyone. We should look like it’s casual.”
“Casual, yeah,” Louis says, and he isn’t sure when they started whispering or when his face got so close to Harry’s. He’s still holding himself up with a hand on the side of his head, and he moves his other hand to Harry’s stomach, letting his fingers splay across his shirt. Harry’s breath hitches for a moment before he clears his throat to try to hide it. Louis breathes out a laugh, flickering his eyes up to meet Harry’s before moving his gaze back to his own hand. He tenses and relaxes his fingers a few times, watching the way his hand moves with every breath Harry takes. He’s not sure when they’ll fall into this again, if they ever will, so he doesn’t want to forget any of the details.
“Lou,” Harry whispers after a moment, and Louis nods at nothing in particular. They’re doing this then.
He leans down the extra few inches to place his face directly in front of Harry’s, moving his eyes quickly between his lips (god, they’re sinful) and his eyes. Harry’s eyes are fluttering closed, and he’s breathing heavily in anticipation, Louis guesses - he can feel every breath on his lips. He pushes forward without any warning, catching Harry by surprise, if his tiny whimper against Louis’ lips is any indication. He kisses Harry gently, letting it linger so that he can soak in the way Harry’s soft lips feel against his, finally. He’s been thinking about Harry’s mouth for as long as he can remember, and to have it against his own is a feeling that not even a cliche romance novelist could write about. It’s over too quickly, in Louis’ opinion.
They break apart for a moment, looking at each other once before both of them laugh a bit nervously, and Louis turns his head to hide his face in the crook of Harry’s neck.
“Not bad, guess I’ll stay married to you,” Harry says after a beat of silence, and Louis laughs against his neck.
It shouldn’t be this easy, is the thing.
_
They keep practicing. It isn’t a big deal, so they don’t need to talk about it, Louis decides. Harry mentions airily that same night that if they want to be really convincing, they should keep practicing at the kissing thing. Louis could think of nothing else he’d want to do more, so he obliges quickly. They kiss at home, in the car on the way to school and in the parking lot, in their beds when they’re watching a movie at night. It hasn’t progressed to anything more than kissing, it’s been fun and easy and flows like everything else in their friendship. It feels like something they’ve done all along (Louis really wishes that were true).
It’s been a week and they still haven’t kissed in front of anyone, however. It’s just when they’re alone, and now that Louis thinks about it, they’ve started doing everything else when they’re alone too. Harry will grab his hand when they’re walking from Louis’ house to Harry’s after a night of movies and popcorn or studying. Louis might flirt with Harry openly, tell him that his ass looks great in his jeans (it isn’t a lie), and gives it a little slap. It’s friendly, mostly.
On a Wednesday, Harry pulls him aside in the hallway. “Okay, are you ready?”
Louis leans into him instinctively, tucking his fingers into the front pockets of Harry’s jeans. “Hmm?”
“When we get to my locker, I’m going to-- Is it alright if I kiss you? That way everyone can see?”
And, right. They’re still pretending to be married.
“Yes, oh my god, okay. Perfect.” Louis nods quickly, grabbing Harry’s hand and leading the way. His heart is pounding, because he can already see Zayn, Niall, and Liam standing in a circle around the locker next to Harry’s, and the hallway is packed.
When they get to Harry’s locker, Harry leans against it coolly and pulls Louis against him in one swift motion, making Louis squeak in surprise. He starts laughing, continues laughing when Harry kisses him, both of them giggling quietly against each other’s mouth. Louis loops his arm around Harry’s waist, leaning into the kiss and making it look more convincing, not that he has to try too hard. He’d probably wrap both legs around Harry’s waist and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe if there weren’t people surrounding him. He just might, anyway.
Harry pulls back first, placing another small kiss on Louis’ nose before detaching himself and turning to face the boys. “Oh, sorry guys, didn’t see you there,” he says sarcastically. Louis laughs against his chest. Harry is the worst.
“You two are the worst,” Niall groans, and, hey.
“It’s obvious that the honeymoon phase is never going to fucking end,” Zayn says with a nod. “Happy for you two, but god, get a fuckin’ room.”
Louis scoffs. “Sorry you can’t all have a hot husband quite like mine,” he sing-songs, earning a chorus of groans from the three boys when Harry leans in and connects their lips again.
It’s nice, for a moment, to feel like the envy of everyone watching.
_
The news that Harry and Louis are, in fact, not married travels just as quickly, if not quicker, than the news that they were. They tell Zayn and the boys first (who were pissed initially but then insanely amused and proud of them for pulling it off, as expected), and let them spread the gossip that it was all just an elaborate senior prank. Everyone is shocked, saying that there’s no way they were faking it, which Louis isn’t sure is a bad thing. Maybe they’re just really great actors. Niall decides that his chicken prank isn’t even worth it, that Harry and Louis’ prank will be talked about for months, so they count it as a victory.
They keep wearing the rings. Neither one of them mentions it.
_
“You know, I was thinking.” Harry says a week later when they’re sharing a pizza in Louis’ room. The pizza box is in the center of the bed, and they sit on either side of it with their legs crossed, talking about school and seeing who can get their cheese to string the longest without breaking. It’s the most fun Louis has had all week. The kissing, that has continued as well, which Louis is very pleased with. It’s natural for them, he thinks, and they’ve gotten used to it. He briefly wonders if there’s something to that, but that seems like a black hole that he shouldn’t dive into.
Harry dives into it anyway.
“Spit it out, Curly. Wouldn’t want you to think too hard.”
Harry rolls his eyes but continues. “I wonder why people believed us so easily. About being married, I mean. Like, I don’t know, if Zayn told us that him and Liam were married, I wouldn’t believe him even if he swore up and down.”
Louis nods. “Zayn said that they all thought we were dating anyway, like.” He laughs awkwardly and clears his throat.
“Oh.” Harry says, and his mouth has formed the prettiest ‘o’ shape that Louis has ever seen - he deserves a trophy for not crawling over a burning hot pizza to kiss him.
“Yeah,” Louis says slowly. “Yeah.”
“Well, we are dating sorta, aren’t we?” Harry asks after he takes a few more bites of pizza.
Louis’ head is going to actually fall off. “What? No!”
“I mean--” Harry chuckles. “We kiss a lot now, which I don’t mind at all. And we hang out all the time. Kissing and hanging out, isn’t that what boyfriends are, basically?”
“Well, Harold, you have to have feelings for each other. That seems important.”
“I’ve had feelings for you since I was, like, 14, so.”
And, oh.
“Oh.” Louis breathes out. Or maybe he doesn’t breathe at all, maybe he hasn’t breathed in the last 2 minutes.
Harry swallows another bite of pizza like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb on Louis’ entire life. “Yeah. You’ve sorta always been it for me. That sounds a lot stupider when I say it out loud, but there it is, I guess.”
Louis wants to scream and cry and kiss Harry until he’s dizzy with it, maybe even wants to fuck him (definitely wants to fuck him). “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”
Harry shrugs. “I like what we are. We never had to force anything. I figured if we were gonna happen, it would just, you know. Happen.”
Louis smiles bigger than he thinks he ever has. “Are you saying you want to be married to me again?”
Harry’s grin matches his own, and he looks ridiculous. They look fucking ridiculous. “I figured we could give dating a try. From best friends to husbands to boyfriends. It’s usually the way things work, I think.”
Louis rolls his eyes and slides the pizza box out of the way, closing it so that none of the grease leaks onto his bedspread. Harry uncrosses his legs, spreading them apart so that Louis can kneel in between them. They wrap around each other easily and Louis kisses him once, smiling into it. They do that a lot, smile and laugh while kissing. It’s unlike anything Louis has ever had, and he thinks he can deal with it for a while. For a long time, even.
“I’ve probably been dumb for you since we were, like, 13. So we’ve wasted a lot of time, you dick,” he says with a tug to Harry’s hair before leaning in and kissing him again.
They kiss until they’re falling down to lay next to the pizza box, eventually pushing it onto the floor to make more room. They break between kisses to talk and laugh and it’s the best fucking feeling Louis’ had, probably ever. He has Harry. Harry is his, and he’s Harry’s. It’s not as a joke, or a prank, it’s really happening and that’s a lot to take in at once.
When they tell the boys, and everyone, that they’re for real this time, nobody even tries to act surprised. Louis can’t say that he blames them.