I really like this part even though it's shorter than usual.

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Enjoy!

-

Jake's fist hits Louis straight in the jaw, and causes him to stumble backwards until he falls on his ass. Louis doesn't waste any time though, because he's up in a split of a second in spite of his current state of drunkenness, and lunges forward.

People have started noticing, and there is already a little circle forming around the three of them.

"Did you just punch me in the fucking nose?" Louis yells right as he knocks Jake over on the floor next to the bar.

He begins throwing punches left and right, and at one point Harry is sure he heard Jake's nose crack, even over all the screaming and the music.

Harry knows he's got little time left to get out of his shocked state and break them apart before security comes and hurls them out which will end in one of two ways; they'll either end up spending the night in jail for underage drinking and causing a public disturbance, or they'll end up spending the night in the hospital.

"Louis!" Harry yells, finally stepping towards them and trying to get him off of Jake. "Stop it! You're drunk-"

"Fuck off!"

Harry doesn't even get the time to actually pull Louis away, because there's a fist in his face and then a few more people join the brawl. Harry recognizes a few of them as being on the lacrosse team.

This is NOT going to end good. Harry thinks as he presses a hand against his cheek and bleeding lip. The punch wasn't that bad, thank God.

The next thing he knows, Zayn, Niall, and the rest of the footie team join Louis in beating up the lax team. It all goes to hell when a few of the cheerleaders start with punches and hair pulling against the girls that probably came with the lacrosse team.

Harry tries once again to pull a bloody-knuckled Louis away from a bloody-faced Jake, but it's too late because that's when about ten bodyguards invade their space and elbow their way to the middle of the fight, screaming and yelling out orders.

The buffest of them all grips into the back of Louis' collar and literally pulls him off the ground with such a force, Harry is certain he could be strangled. The guy then hoists Jake up, wraps his arms around each of their waists and lifts them up over his shoulders.

"That's fuckin' incredible." Niall says Zayn and he are pulled by their arms out of the club. Harry feels someone push him forward, and realizes that he's also being escorted out of the club, together with everyone who participated in the fight.

When they get outside, there are about twenty football and lacrosse players, as well as some girls from the cheerleading squad and girlfriends, who are being pushed against several police cars with their hands behind their backs. Everyone, including Harry, who's currently being pushed against a door of a police car and handcuffed.

"We're fucked." He tells Zayn when they're in the police car, together with Niall and Bryan.

"Tell me about it. Who's going to come and bail us out?"

"I think we need to call coach." Niall sighs from the front seat. "He usually bails us out if we ever get in trouble."

Harry leans back into the seat and sighs.

This is going to be a long fucking night.

-

The 'drunk tank' of the local police department is a giant room with no windows, white walls and long benches from the door all the way to the back. And of course, it reeks of alcohol and vomit, even though it's clean.

Besides the two teams and their girlfriends/cheerleaders, Harry, and Zayn, there are three more people in the tank with them. A middle-aged homeless man who fell asleep on the bench that was the farthest from the door, right across from Harry, a teenage girl with too many piercings and tattoos to even count, and a guy Harry knows because he often saw him around campus with a beer in hand.

The silence is agonizing, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Harry is sitting between Zayn and Niall, who have bruised knuckles and disheveled hair. The worst are Louis and Jake though.

Jake's nose is definitely broken and the bleeding in his lip has been stopped by a tissue. A police officer comes in just a few minutes after they are brought in, and takes him to the infirmary to get his nose fixes and a few stitches.

Louis is sitting next to Zayn with a black eye, a cut lip, and bleeding knuckles. Harry's never seen him like this although he's witnessed a few of his drunken fights.

The door opens and another police officer comes in with a Breathalyzer in hand. He lets them know that they'll be in protective custody until every single one of them will blow a 0.06.

"Great. We'll be in here until next year with Tomlinson." A lacrosse player mumbles, which causes Louis to jump up from the bench to fight him.

Zayn holds him back and Louis gives up the struggle eventually, right before the officer hands the Breathalyzer to Barbara and leaves.

They each blow into it, and of course Harry blows the lowest BAC (0,04) and Louis the highest (0.15).

"You can leave, you know that?" Zayn tells Harry as Louis spreads out over the three of them on the bench, with his head on Niall's lap, his bum on Harry's, and legs over Zayn's.

"I know. But technically it's my fault for getting us here."

"How'd you get to that conclusion?"

"Well-"

"Don't flatter yourself Styles. I didn't start the fight because I was jealous."

"I was about to say that I was partially at fault for not breaking it up." He then turns to look at Zayn. "And the officer said that all of us have to blow at least a 0.06 in order to get out of here."

"If I hear you complaining I won't hesitate to break your nose too." Louis warns and turns on his back so he can properly look at Harry under half-opened eyes. It's obvious that he's a few minutes away from passing out or vomiting, or both.

"If you keep being an asshole, I won't hesitate to punch you in the balls."

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Or what?"

"Or-"

"Jesus, you're acting like five year olds!" Zayn exclaims, interrupting them. "I've had enough of your bickering and constant fighting can't you just get over the whole fucking sexual tension and fuck each other already?"

The entire room turns silent as Zayn pushes Louis' legs off his lap and gets up so he can drunkenly stumble over to an empty bench.

"I'm with him on this one. You lads have some serious issues to clarify." Niall agrees and follows Zayn to the other side of the room, closer to the door.

Harry scoots farther away from Louis so he can't lie down on Harry's lap.

"You're shit." Louis complains and leans against the wall with his knees propped on the bench and to his chest. He leans his forehead against his kneecaps and closes his eyes.

"This is horrible."

"Then maybe you should stop drinking so much."

"Maybe you should mind your own business."

"You've been my business for over a year now."

"For the last time, no one ever asked you to 'take care' of me, alright? I can take care of myself."

"Alright then. Don't come looking for me the next time you're piss drunk and need someone to carry you upstairs."

"I never came looking for you, you're full of shit."

"I think you're the one that's full of shit, that's why your ass is so b-"

"Don't even dare finishing that sentence."

"-big."

Louis shakes his head and ignores Harry for the rest of the night.

-

Well, not quite the rest of the night, because not even an hour later, Louis wakes up (God knows how he managed to sleep curled up like that against the wall) with a groggy voice and a confused state.

"When are we getting out?" he asks and looks around to see that almost everyone has fallen asleep, in spite of the fluorescent light coming from the neons above. Almost everyone. Niall and Barbara are making out on an empty bench, one of the lacrosse players is fixing his hair in the mirror and Harry is currently drawing shapes into the ground with his finger as he lays down on the bench with his knees to his chest.

"When your BAC falls to 0.06." Harry informs him and sits up next to him.

"My head is pounding. I think I'm going to throw up soon."

"Turn your head in the other direction please. I'm not in the mood for your vomit right now."

"Are you ever in the mood?"

"Just...shut up please."

Louis rolls his eyes and lets his legs back down on the ground, stretching and yawning.

"What time s'it?"

"Half past two."

"In the morning?"

"No, afternoon you idiot."

"Your sarcasm isn't appealing to me at all." Louis lets him know as he stands up and stretches his arms over his head.

"I don't even want it to be, stop assuming that I'm flirting with you just because I'm gay and you're remotely good looking."

"So you admit that I'm good looking?"

"Dear God." Harry deeply sighs and looks away from Louis before he gets the urge to stand up and actually strangle him.

"What are you doing?" he finds himself asking when he sees Louis heading towards the door.

"I need someone to put ice on my knuckles otherwise my fingers are going to fall off. Fucking hurts."

Harry gets up and follows him to the door.

"What are you doing?" Louis mocks his previous question as he insistently knocks on the door.

"I'm coming with you. My lip is going to fall off. Fucking hurts." Harry mocks him right back, and Zayn may have been right. They are acting like five year olds.

An officer finally comes, asking them what they want.

"Can we see a doctor? Our wounds need immediate assistance."

The man analyzes them from head to toe, before he asks them to follow him and behave. He leads them to the first floor and knocks on a white door that reads 'FIRST AID ASSISTANCE'.

A woman opens the door and invites them in. The officers leaves them there, but not before advising them to head right back to the tank once they've gotten their medical care.

Louis and Harry sit down next to each other on the bed in the corner of the room as they wait for Dr. Hudson (the nametag reads) to apply some stiches and ice.

She takes care of Harry first, since his injuries are only a giant bruise on his cheek and a cut lip that has stopped bleeding a while ago.

She puts some lotion on the clot and then a small bandage. A pack of ice is given to him so he can hold it against his cheek until she's finished with Louis.

Dr. Hudson does the same treatment to Louis lip like she did to Harry's, and then tells Harry to hold ice on Louis' knuckles and occasionally alternate with his free hand while Louis holds a pack of ice to his eye.

They get back to the tank and sit down on their bench with their thighs touching so they can do just what the nurse advised. It's weird because they're not talking yet they're touching and looking at each other as they do.

"So thi' i' weird." Harry says with difficulty caused by the bandage on his lip.

"It i'."

"Your face i' fuck' up."

"Ju't like your' i' every day."

"Haha." Harry sarcastically replies and rolls his eyes. If he had a penny every time Louis Tomlinson has caused him to roll his eyes, he would be an eyeless millionaire.

His cheek begins to feel numb after a while so he leaves the pack of eyes on the floor and leans back against the wall when Louis does the same because his knuckles can't take the cold anymore.

So that's how Harry falls asleep, with his back against the wall and an ice pack resting at his feet.

-

Someone's loud talking wakes him up, and once he blinks his eyes completely open, he sees that the officer is back in the tank with the Breathalyzer and testing it on everyone.

Louis is asleep with his head in his lap and his knees curled up to his chest, lightly snoring. Harry doesn't hesitate to slap his cheek so he can wake up.

"What the-?" Louis says and sits up, rubbing the right side of his face. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"We need to wake up. They're checking our BAC."

Louis groans but stands up nonetheless, stretching his arm and torso. The police officer hands each of them a breath mint after they take the test and successfully pass.

Harry scores a 0.1 and takes his mint, before checking the watch on the wall that points to almost four in the fucking morning. After Louis blows into the machine, the officer checks the results.

"That's 0.6. You're free to go. But next time don't start fights in clubs that you know are going to end badly."

Louis nods and takes a breath mint.

It's only when Harry is in a police car that's headed back to the dorm, that he realizes his coat was left back at the club. He wants to call Liam, but his phone is also in his coat.

He can only hope that Liam isn't in a deep sleep or not in their dorm because he doesn't have a key and he'd really like to get some sleep before classes start at ten.

Once he's out of the car, after thanking the officer for driving him and two other girls to the dorm building, he's walking to the elevator with big steps, wishing he could just lay down and sleep right there on the floor.

As expected, once he reaches his dorm, no one answers, even after five minutes of continuous knocking and hushed yelling.

"Fuck."

He doesn't know what he could do, but after a few minutes of drastically thinking, he comes to the conclusion that his only option is trying the frat house with the hope of maybe sleeping on the couch.

So he deeply sighs and starts walking, not too pleased by what he's about to do.

The frat house is (surprisingly) quiet when he gets there, and he's even more surprised when someone actually opens the door after just a few knocks. It's Zayn, who's already dressed in what Harry supposes are his pyjamas, and doesn't even seem the least bit annoyed to see Harry in front of their door at half past four in the morning.

"Hi."

"Hey, Harry."

"So um, this might seem a bit weird, but can you by any chance let me sleep on the couch? Or wherever because my roommate-Liam, he's on the footie team, accidentally forgot to leave the door open for me so...I need a place to sleep tonight. Or morning. Whatever."

"Don't be stupid man, you can bunk in Louis' bed."

"Why not in yours?" Harry finds himself asking.

Why the fuck would a normal person ask such a question? It's enough that he's being allowed to stay in the frat house, in an actual BED, but of course he always has to be an idiot and ask further questions that don't put him in such a good light.

"Because I already let a pledge sleep in here since there are two girls in his bed already passed out. Kind of sad for the guy."

"Alright then. I guess I'll go to Louis'. Thanks though."

Harry follows Zayn upstairs and after saying goodnight, he's off towards Louis' room, not really wanting to know what is waiting for him there.

A semi-hungover Louis who's laying on the bed on his stomach with his phone in his hand is apparently waiting for him when he gets there.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks as Harry closes the door, and then turns off the light so the lamp on the bedside table can light up the room.

"I'm sleeping in here tonight."

"Like fuck you are. Don't you have your own dorm? Or are you in love with me or something?"

"Okay. First, Liam forgot that I was coming home after him so he fell asleep and couldn't open the door. And second, don't flatter yourself. I might be gay, but that'll never happen."

"Yes it would. I bet you've thought of fucking me before."

"Jesus fucking Christ. You're better when you're drunk."

Louis sighs and rolls on his back, eyes still glued to his phone. Harry toes off his shoes and walks over to the bathroom to wash his hands.

When he comes back into the room, Louis is stripped down to his boxers and sitting against the headboard, still typing on his phone.

Harry doesn't ask who he's chatting with; he choses to grab Louis' cigarette pack and lighter from the desk, and then goes to the balcony door.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoking?"

Louis doesn't say anything else; he just returns to his phone, so Harry walks out on the balcony and leans against the railing.

Harry lights up his cigarette and doesn't even get to take two proper drags when he hears Louis join him. He turns his head to see Louis wrapped up in a blanket and standing next to him with bare feet.

"Aren't you cold?"

Louis ignores him and takes a cigarette out of the pack, and then the lighter.

"You shouldn't smoke." Harry tells him.

"Isn't it funny how usually the people who tell you not to smoke because it's bad for you have a cigarette between their lips?"

"I guess."

There's a short silence after that, until Harry breaks it.

"Life is funny."

"Oh Jesus Styles please don't start with the 4 am deep talk bullshit."

"Stop calling me Styles."

"That's your name isn't it?"

"That's what the teachers call me, not my friends."

"So we're friends now? Since when?"

"Sort of."

Louis doesn't reply.

He probably doesn't know what else to say, Harry thinks as he takes a long drag.

"I don't think friends are supposed to want to fuck each other."

Harry looks at Louis surprised.

"You want to-"

"Oh you know what I mean."

"I thought you were straight."

"I am."

"You don't make sense at five in the morning."

"Well you never make sense."

Harry finishes his cigarette a few seconds after that and doesn't wait for Louis to do so too, so he goes back inside and locks the door to the balcony.

"Seriously?" Louis asks, annoyed. "Are you five?"

Harry shakes his head and crosses his arms, just for the sake of it.

"When I get inside I swear to God I'm going to punch you so hard that people are going to call you Smurf."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Open the fucking door."

"Or what?"

Harry opens the door nonetheless, and Louis comes in with an angry expression on his face.

"You're a fucking idiot. I almost froze my balls off."

"What balls?"

Louis steps forward and pushes Harry with a lot more force than expected.

"What are you trying to do?" Harry laughs and Louis pushes him once more, until Harry falls on his ass on the bed.

"I'm trying to fight you."

"You're really cute when you're angry." Harry tells him, knowing it annoys the fuck out of Louis.

"Don't fucking dare to call me cute when I'm-fuck!"

Louis tries to punch him but Harry catches his wrist and stands up from the bed, turning Louis around with his arm to his back.

"What are you saying? I can't hear you all the way from down there."

Louis turns around quickly and punches Harry in the chest.

"You can't fight me, you're like miniature."

"Don't quote an Ashton Kutcher movie to me while I'm angry!"

"Are you done? Because I'm tired and I'd like to get some sleep before classes start."

"You're not sleeping in my bed, that's for sure."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure what I might do to you in your sleep."

"I didn't know you were into that type of sex."

"That's not what I meant! You can sleep on the floor."

"Alright." Harry says but gets into the bed nonetheless after taking off his shirt and jeans, and pulls the duvet up to his shoulders.

"Get out."

"No."

"Get the fuck out of my bed." Louis repeats, dropping his blanket and pulling the duvet off of Harry.

"Make me."

Louis lets out a huff and wraps his fingers around Harry ankles, trying to pull him off the bed.

"Let me know when you're done. I'll just go to sleep in the meantime."

"You're the most annoying asshole I know."

"So you haven't gotten to know yourself yet?"

Louis gives up because it's just not worth it.

He walks around the bed until he gets to his side that's always on the right, and gets in. He doesn't however forget to pull the duvet away from Harry and take it all to himself.

"My bed my rules."

"Sure." Harry replies and pulls the duvet back to himself, almost flipping Louis over and out of the bed.

"Can you be a little more gentle please? I'm trying to sleep here."

"That's not my problem."

"My bed-"

Harry turns on his side to face Louis.

"Alright, alright, just shut the fuck up. I get it. Your bed, your fucking rules. Whatever. Just shut up and let me sleep because I have-actually, weboth have class in less than five hours."

Louis doesn't respond, but he doesn't do anything else to annoy Harry, so Harry just lets him take half of the duvet and closes his eyes.

He finally falls asleep to Louis' erratic breathing and wakes up four hours later to Louis slapping him over the face right after pouring cold water on his face.

Harry only gets out of the bed after he screams at Louis and pushes him on the balcony to lock him up for ten minutes in the cold.

They're friends. Sort of.

--

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Ronnie