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Louis went out on the balcony, armed in a cigarette and a lighter. Late spring weather promised a nice break from screens, papers and thoughts.
He lit up and leaned back against the railing.
"I feel like I'm not gay enough."
Harry looked up from his book.
"You blew me this morning."
Louis let out an exasperated sigh and took a hit of nicotine.
"Well, sorry?" Harry laughed and slipped a bookmark between the pages. He plopped the book on his belly and slid a bit lower in his chair. "It was a good blowie, definitely gay of you."
A nice breeze ruffled their hair, both pairs of eyes squinted a bit from the brightness. Curtains shifted on the other side of the open balcony door. It all felt fresh.
"Sweet." Louis let the smoke out and crossed his legs at the ankles. "It's just, I'm nothing like you or the other fags we know. Or even in the media, the series you watch sometimes. I hate drag queens. I hate dress-up and make-up, I didn't even use any lotion before you forced me." drag of the cigarette. "I love me some beer and football, I prefer hanging with my mates than, you know, being the gay bestie of some girls. I hate how they portray gays in media that's supposed to make me feel represented. I can't stand it, I literally wanna puke when I hear of another gay romance series. I get why you like it but I just, I don't know."
Louis looked over his shoulder at the park on the opposite side of the street. The cigarette burned down slowly.
Harry waited for the continuation. He had a feeling of the direction it was going in.
"And I don't get the appeal of having something up your arse." Louis sighed. "I mean, I'm glad you enjoy it and I'm very happy giving it to you but I just— god, I hate bottoming." he took the last drag and walked over to the ashtray on the windowsill to dump the cigarette. "And I feel like gay sex scene is so unbelievably kinky overall? All those bears in leather harnesses, the gag balls, the whips and pads and even the fucking jockstraps, I hate it." Louis paced around the small balcony, flicking the leaves of their plants. "No shame to people who get off on it but I just can't even imagine myself like that. Even in gay porn, there's only three types of men. The bears, the gym bros and the emaciated twinks and I feel I don't fit any of those categories. Nobody ever even called me a faggot as an insult." he threw his hands out and stopped right in front of Harry. "Liking dick is not enough to be gay these days!"
Harry snorted a laugh at that and crossed one leg over another. Louis rolled his eyes and turned away to pace again.
"Do you want me to be serious about it?" Harry's eyes traced the stiffness in the other man's shoulders.
"Yes, please."
"Sit down."
Louis held up a finger and entered the flat, coming right back up with an old pillow. He put it on the tiles and sat on it opposite Harry, back against the railing.
"Cheer me up." he ordered. Harry smiled as he fixed his position on the chair, putting the book down on the floor.
"All you've just said is that you don't fit a stereotype. A stereotype, Lou. A collage of the most caricatural gay tropes."
"Most of them are true, though."
"They are but so what. It's not up to anybody but you to decide about your gayness. Besides, there are thousands of gays like you, you just don't clock them on the street." Harry bounced his foot in the air. "Next, the media. You know it's made for straight women, not for us, really. I just happen to love that shit because I love any romantic movies. I think it's just preference, you know? You never liked any straight romance movies so I'm not surprised you don't like the gay ones either. And it's like, okay."
Louis sighed and Harry sent him a soft smile.
"You're good just the way you are. I wouldn't trade you for any other fag out there." he blew Louis a kiss and basked in the short laugh. "Now, the last bit. Are you unhappy with our sex life?"
Louis' smile fell and he took a moment to respond. Birds chirped around, wind rustled the plants around them.
"I feel like you might be." he scratched the tiles between his legs.
There it was.
"I'm not. I'm like, the total contrary of unhappy." Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Louis groaned, leaning his head back against the railing. He fought with the words that bubbled inside him.
"I just— I know you used to top a lot with your previous guys." he looked worried now. "And when I think I've taken that away from you, you must miss it sometimes? You must get uncomfortable or bored or frustrated or... I just get the feeling I can't fully satisfy you."
Harry frowned. He's thought about it, he was but a human. Yet he wasn't aware Louis put much more thought into it than he ever did.
"First of all, if I were ever uncomfortable I'd tell you. Bored? Never. Frustrated? Yeah, when you tease too much." Harry smiled at the tiniest nudge of the corner of Louis' lip he managed to elicit. "And yeah, I do think about topping sometimes but you didn't take anything away from me, what we do is just different from what I've done before." he hesitated for a moment. "And I love fucking your thighs."
"Harry."
"It's true. I love when we use toys, I love even just rubbing against you." Harry shrugged, amused by the tiniest pink coat of Louis' cheeks. "Hell, I could list you every single thing we do, cause I love it all. First and foremost though, I love bottoming for you. I'm really happy with my position." he nodded, eliciting a nod from the other man as well. "And did you know there's actually a shortage of tops on Grindr? I found myself a real gem."
"Please." Louis straightened his legs out.
"I'm serious." Harry got down from his chair, walking over to Louis on all fours. He straddled his thighs and pressed a short kiss to his lips. "Did you ever think that maybe all the things you've just listed as wrong are exactly the things that made me fall for you?"
Louis sighed.
"Sap." he rubbed Harry's thighs and leaned in for another kiss. "You're lying, though." he mumbled against his lips before he leaned back. "You hate that I criticise your romantic comedies."
"Okay, this I do but the rest is all true."
"And you pout when I don't let you paint my nails."
"Okay, right."
"And—"
"Okay!" Harry grabbed both sides of Louis' face and pressed his jaw closed with his thumbs. "The point is, I love you. I love that you're not just any average fag, I love that we differ and complete each other. I love how you top and I wouldn't exchange it for anything. Understood?"
They both nodded and Harry went to let go of the man's face, but Louis grabbed his wrist and kept him there, simultaneously leaning in for another kiss, longer and flithier. Bordering on inappropriate even in the asylum of their own balcony.
Well, asylum? Not really.
Clapping echoed from the balcony next to theirs.
They quickly broke apart, Harry whipped his head around and Louis leaned to the side to look over his shoulder.
Their neighbour, an almost eighty years old Mrs Doherty, sat, fully turned towards them, comfortable under her blanket. Big sunglasses and even bigger smile on her face.
"Good job." she held her thumbs up.