Bad For You (Larry Stylinson) [HIATUS TIL SUMMER]

Louis thought he could handle it all. After being bullied both physically and verbally throughout most of his school years, he believed his experiences had made him stronger. When he decided to pursue teaching, everyone was shocked. They all questioned why he would want to spend most of his hours in a place similar to the one that held some of his worst memories. Memories of being beaten until he was left broken and bleeding on the floor, of being verbally assaulted until hot tears streamed down his face. But he had his reasons. He wanted to be that shoulder for his students to lean on. One student in particular caught his eye. Rough-and-tumble school bad-boy Harry Styles. The boy refused any help from the start, but will Louis be able to break down the walls Harry has worked so hard to build up?

*Viewer discretion is advised* if you're uncomfortable with strong language, self harm, or sexual content, this story probably isn't for you.

YES THIS IS A LARRY FANFIC. Happy reading xx

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1. Hard Lessons

[ author's note: hi everyone! This is my first ever attempt at writing a fanfic so I'm hoping it's alright and you all like it! Or at least someone reads it... Anyway leave me a comment to let me know how I'm doing. Sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy xx ]


Chapter 1: Hard Lessons


Today was the day. Louis was of course excited, but at the same time extremely nervous, to start his first real job. Sure he'd held his fair share of poorly paying part time positions when he was younger, but this was much, much different. He was an adult now, in charge of helping a whole classroom of rowdy teenagers live up to their full potential, much like his teachers had done for him not too many years ago. When he had given up on himself ever achieving anything, it was a few caring teachers who pulled him out of the darkness he felt constricting him more and more with each passing hour and who encouraged him that he wasn't a screw-up. He was Louis Tomlinson and he could be whatever he wanted to be, no matter what anyone else may try to make him believe. And that was what made up Louis' mind to become a teacher. It was his way of giving back, of repaying the kindness he had been shown at his lowest point. He sincerely hoped he would be given the opportunity to be the one to give a troubled student a second chance at success and a happy life. Because he knew firsthand how good it felt to get back on track after nearly losing himself all those years ago.

*****

The ice-blue eyed, wispy-haired boy with the delicately pale skin had always been picked on as a child due to his admittedly slightly feminine features. Louis had never exactly been ashamed of the way he looked. He quite fancied admiring himself in the mirror, actually. He took pride in making himself look good, and Louis had never found anything wrong with that. Once he was a year six however, his classmates began to take more notice that he was somehow different. He'd never been particularly fond of sports, had never really liked talking about cars and girls. He much preferred staying home as it meant he got to keep his vocal and piano skills in tune. As time progressed, Louis found that he could better relate to the girls in his classes than the rough-mannered boys. No one took much notice of this at first. Everyone just thought he was a ladies man and many of the boys envied him. Soon, though, the prodding and teasing began. For awhile, Louis was able to brush it off as nothing, but the longer he kept acting like it was no big deal, the worse the bullying got. What started as snide comments whispered in the corridors from ear to ear like a big game of "telephone," quickly escalated into full-on physical abuse.

Being a foolish young lad who thought he could handle all his problems by himself, Louis put up with the almost-daily beatings he suffered at the balled-up fists and flailing feet of his fellow classmates. Sure the patchwork of black and blue bruises lacing over his porcelain skin ached, but what hurt Louis the most was the fact that the pain was inflicted by people he knew, or at least thought he knew. People he once called his friends.

Louis figured that eventually the beatings would stop, that the boys would get tired of hurting him if he didn't fight back. As the days went by however, the pain inflicted on the young boy only got worse and more vicious. He repeatedly went home with fresh bruises peppering his arms, legs, and back. Instead of being angry at his classmates for the harm they did him, however, Louis was ashamed of himself. He felt like it was his fault that they did this to him. It was because he was different. He wasn't entirely sure how he was different, but he could sense he just was. Maybe if he changed, this would all turn into a bad dream.

So that was what Louis decided to do. If he had to change his appearance and behavior in order to stop the bullying, he would do it. Sure he'd heard all the lectures his teachers gave the class about "stay true to yourself blah blah blah" but he could change just on the outside, couldn't he? He'd still be the same old Louis, just less flamboyant outwardly. He was sure he could do it.

The day Louis made up his mind to become "one of the boys", he ran home quickly, carefully dodging the bullies in the hall before they could grab him and do any damage for the day. He lived fairly close to the school and got home quickly, slamming the heavy oak door behind him.

"MUM!" he called out, his voice ringing through the seemingly-empty house. The girls must not be home from school yet, he thought. "Muuummm, where are you?" He tried again, wandering through the rooms he passed.

"In here sweetie," he heard Jay's muffled voice call from the study. He ran quickly to her, finding her typing away on the computer, probably doing some work. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, nestling his small face against her chest, inhaling her familiar scent of sweet vanilla. She chuckled, sending vibrations through her young son's body. "Well aren't you excited to see your mum," she said, hugging him back just as tightly.

Louis nodded, his head still against her chest, as Jay gently stroked his chestnut locks. Louis could feel a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He'd always loved it when people played with his hair. After a few minutes, he looked up at her, widening his pale blue eyes, making the best puppy-dog face he could. "Mum, will you pleeeease take me to the shopping center? Pleeeease?" he begged, looking up at her and slightly batting his thick eyelashes and pouting his lips slightly.

Jay chuckled. "What for, love? Don't you have enough clothes?" she asked him.

"But mum, please? The other boys in my class--their clothes are so much cooler," he replied, looking down at his khakis and polo and wrinkling his nose.

"Lou, is that what this is all about? The other boys? Honey, I bet you dress much better than them. Are they picking on you for looking smart? I'm still worried after what happened last time--"

"MUM!" Louis shrieked, cutting Jay off. He looked down at his hands fidgeting restlessly in his lap and could feel a hot blush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

Jay began to rub soft, slow circles over her sons back. "I'm sorry, Lou. I just get nervous for you is all."

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just please, take me?" Louis pleaded.

"Fine," Jay sighed finally. Louis let out a barely audible sigh of relief below his breath. Hopefully after this makeover, or rather, "make-under," he would finally be good enough for his classmates. Maybe they would finally accept him.

The next day, Louis went to school a whole new boy. Instead of his usually impeccable outfit, he was dressed like the other boys, in a slightly oversized Nike sweatshirt, baggy jeans sagging low to reveal the thick black band of his boxers, and shiny new Nike basketball shoes. He felt strange wearing them, but he shook off the feeling and smiled walking into class that morning. Louis was confident that the new him would be accepted and the bullying would finally come to an end. For the first time in a long while, Louis wasn't afraid of being attacked in the hallways.

He made his way to his first class of the day, which according to his timetable was History, and sauntered in with a big grin lighting up his face. The other boys immediately noticed Louis since he wasn't the shy, cowering boy he usually was. Louis could feel the eyes of everyone in class on him, taking in his new look. Normally, he would've cringed at all the attention, knowing he'd be in for a beating after class, but this time, Louis wasn't afraid. After all, he was just like everyone else now. What could they possibly make fun of him for?

Louis bravely made his way over to Kennedy's table. The stocky, well-built boy was the biggest bully in year six, the one who led all the other boys in taunting poor Louis. His punch was the hardest, his kicks stung the most. Louis had never really liked him, he supposed, but he had never hated him either--until the bullying began, that is. He would never have thought it possible for a person to be as cruel as Kennedy had he not witnessed it firsthand. And it wasn't just the physical injury that bothered Louis so much as the horrible verbal abuse Kennedy constantly hurled at him.

He pushed all that out of his mind, though, and walked as confidently as he could over to Kennedy's table, tugging out a chair and plopping into it.

He pulled all of his necessary books out of his bag and arranged them neatly on the table in front of him. He could feel Kennedy's cold, hard gaze searing holes through his skin. Louis gulped but went on with getting ready for class until he heard a low guttural growl sound from beside him.

Louis tried to stay calm and collected, but he could feel the bully's hot, angry breath on his cheek. "What do you think you're doing, Tomlinson?" he hissed viciously.

Louis did his best to remain unfazed by the rude treatment as he replied: "Do you notice anything different about me today, Kennedy?". He cast his glance from the older boy to his new outfit and back again.

"What, you think I'm gonna suddenly be all buddy-buddy with you because you got new clothes? I think not Louis. You're still a gay little prick and this changes nothing, got it? Now fuck off, that seat's saved for someone," he spat, shoving Louis' materials off the table, sending them clattering to the ground.

Not willing to give up just yet, Louis calmly got up and collected his materials. He slid them back onto the table next to Kennedy and took up the chair he had previously been occupying. He turned to Kennedy, whose face had turned an impossible shade of crimson. "I thought I made it very clear that you're not welcome here, you fag. Just because you're probably in love with me or something doesn't mean you can just come be all friendly and make me like you. Because that's never going to happen, Tomlinson. Never. Got it?"

By this point, Louis was horrified by the words tumbling from the bully's mouth. He was absolutely livid with anger, this blue eyes turning icy cold as he glared at Kennedy. "You know what Kennedy, I have no fucking idea why I've been trying so damn hard to be your friend. You're the biggest douche I've ever met in my entire life," he hissed, snatching his books from the table before turning to find a new seat, as far from Kennedy as possible. Another thought popped into his mind, and he spun on his heel to face Kennedy once more. "And for the record, if I were to like guys, you'd be last on my list you egotistical asshole!" And with that, Louis took a new seat, feeling quite satisfied as he took a quick peek at the bully's enraged face. He could tell that the rest of Kennedy's friends were suppressing giggles, judging by the looks on their faces, and Louis turned to face the front, feeling very pleased with himself.

The feeling didn't last very long, however. As soon as the bell dismissing the class sounded, Louis gathered his things and walked out of class, but not before Kennedy caught up with him. "You better watch your back today, Tomlinson. You're gonna pay," he growled before roughly brushing past the slight-framed boy.

Oh, shit, Louis thought. His plan had backfired. Bad. And now, there was nothing he could do but wait for what he was sure would be a very painful punishment.

Like usual, Louis was cautiously walking down the hallways after final bell, hoping he wouldn't run into Kennedy and his gang of followers. He walked quickly to his locker, constantly scanning the halls, on the lookout for the familiar mop of sandy blonde hair that instantly meant trouble. The halls were oddly empty, though; Louis didn't see a single person. It was Friday, so he figured everyone wanted out as fast as possible to start enjoying the weekend. He arrived at his locker at the very end of the school building without incident. Heaving a sigh of relief, Louis quickly dumped his school books into the bottom of his locker, arranging them in a neat row. Once he was satisfied, he began to get to his feet, but was quickly knocked once more to the floor, sending the books and papers remaining in his arms skittering across the tiled floor.

"Wha-" Louis began to stutter out before he saw a fist flying right at his face and his blue eyes widened with fear. Louis tried to roll out of the way of the blow, but his reaction wasn't quick enough. Kennedy's fist connected right on the smaller boy's jaw and Louis winced in pain, tears springing quickly to his eyes.

"Aw, well would you look at that, boys. Widdle Lou is gonna cry. Poor baby," Kennedy taunted, pretending to wipe away a fake tear.

His posse behind him laughed at his joke and took turns high-fiving him, egging him on. Louis began to scoot backwards on the tile in an attempt to escape, but Kennedy quickly noticed and grabbed his wrists, pinning him down in a grip so tight, Louis was positive it would leave more bruises.

"I don't think so, you gay little twat," Kennedy hissed at him. Louis' glassy eyes grew impossibly bigger as he stared up at the muscular boy looming right over him, sneering down. His deep brown eyes were cold as ice and unforgiving. His small pink lips were pulled into a smirk and his dirty blonde hair was sticking every way possible. Louis cringed. This seemed like an all too familiar sight.

Louis took a deep breath and swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "Who are you calling a twat, you filthy bastard?" Louis grumbled quietly, tearing his eyes from the bully's face to look at the floor. Kennedy looked shocked at first but quickly regained his composure.

"EXCUSE ME?" he roared. "I thought you just called me a filthy bastard, but you wouldn't do that, now would you little Lew-isss?" he chuckled humorlessly and pinched Louis' cheeks.

Louis flinched at the name, but smiled although he was still in pain from the punch to his jaw. He looked right into the bully's nearly black eyes, and gaining confidence out of nowhere, said: "Fuck off, Kennedy. I know you only make fun of me because you're insecure. I mean, I would be too if I had a three-inch dick," he spat.

Kennedy's eyes bulged out of his head and Louis could swear he saw steam coming out of his ears like in those cheesy movies. He brought his face within centimeters of Louis' and quietly hissed: "Big mistake, Tomlinson," before grabbing the smaller boy by his shoulders and lifting him slightly off the floor before smashing him back down again. Louis felt a sickening crack at the back of his head, and he brought his hand back to survey the damage, only to find it covered in a warm, sticky red. The ground underneath him was covered in his blood as well, causing a few of the other bullies to turn a slight shade of green.

"Maybe that's enough, Kennedy..." one of them, Luke, choked out, his face as pale as a corpse.

"I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO, LUKE," Kennedy screamed as he pulled a barely-conscious Louis to his feet. "STAND TOMLINSON!". Louis obeyed, almost crumpling back to the floor, before Kennedy grabbed him by his shirt and held him up with one hand, while punching him in the stomach with the other. By now, Louis had blood coming not only from the back of his head, but he could also taste the telltale metallic taste in his mouth. He spit some of it on the floor, missing Kennedy's feet, but further enraging him nonetheless. He let go of Louis' t-shirt and shoved him as hard as he could against the lockers and Louis slid down them into a crumpled heap on the floor. The tears he had been holding in from before pushed past their barrier and came spilling down his cheeks, mingling with the blood before falling to the tile.

Not quite yet satisfied with the job he'd done, Kennedy kneeled next to a now-sobbing Louis and put his lips right next to his ear, grazing it and laughing as Louis shuddered at the contact. "Now why don't you stay the fuck out of my way and be a good little faggot, yeah? Go find your boyfriend to kiss it better," he sneered before standing and giving Louis one last swift kick in the gut before leading the slightly horrified group of boys to the carpark.

Louis lay on the floor for what to him felt like hours, sobbing and lying in a bath of his own crimson blood. After awhile, he could feel himself begin to lose consciousness. He was slowly slipping into blackness and before he knew it, everything was pitch black. He became aware of himself being jerked around slightly and he opened his eyes a little slit, enough to see that a teacher had him hoisted into his arms and was carrying the fragile boy out to a waiting ambulance. The rocking was actually quite comfortable, and soon Louis could feel himself being lulled back to sleep. Sleep, he had discovered, was more or less his best friend. It offered shelter from Kennedy and all the pain Louis could still feel when he woke up. Sometimes, sleep even let Louis be the one to conquer the older boy in disputes.

Several hours after the horrific incident, Louis' eyes fluttered slightly before he cracked them open, the bright white fluorescent lights above his bed slightly blinding him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a minute before reopening his eyes to survey his surroundings. The last thing he could remember was lying on the cold white tiles of his school, his blood and tears mingling in a pool around him. He vaguely recalled being gently plucked off the floor and into a pair of warm, strong arms but he hadn't been conscious enough to know whether that was a real memory or just sleep playing tricks on him again. He tried to sit up slightly in the small bed, but winced in pain before lying back flat on his back. Kennedy must have done a lot more damage than Louis thought. He waited for the ache in his chest to subside before very slowly and gently propping himself up on his elbows in order to get a proper look at where he was.

The walls were all whitewashed and had a couple cheap floral watercolor paintings for adornment. The door was made of a harsh-looking wood with a small window that somehow reminded Louis of a jail cell. There was a small sink and toilet in the corner. Nothing too out of the ordinary besides all the scary-looking machines pushed behind Louis' bed, which, now that he looked down at it, was pure white as well. It all smelled so--sterile. By now Louis had come to the obvious conclusion that his injuries had landed him in the hospital. Never in a million years would he think that Kennedy would beat him that bad. He sighed and pushed the big red call button behind his bed and a few minutes later, he was being attended to by a kind young nurse who, after much prodding by the young boy, reluctantly informed him that he had several bruised ribs, a broken nose, and a fractured skull that had required surgery and several stitches to repair. Louis' injuries were far worse than he had imagined and when his mother returned to his room from the cafeteria, where she had been attending to her four younger children, she ran over to his bedside, salty tears leaving tracks down her face.

"My poor baby," she sobbed. "Oh god, Louis, what happened to you?" she asked, taking his hand in her own.

Seeing his mother's tears made Louis' heart break. And to know they were shed because of him only made it worse. He began to cry himself and Jay gathered her poor broken son into her arms for a gentle, yet comforting hug, being careful not to touch his bruised ribs.

When Louis' sobs quit wracking his body and the tears were reduced to a quiet sniffling, he pulled out of his mother's embrace and looked her in the eyes. "It-it was K-Kennedy," he told her, biting his lip in shame. "He pushed me down and started punching me so I tried to fight back but then he got madder and beat the shit out of me."

"Language," Jay told her son almost teasingly as she cracked a small smile.

"Sorry, mum," Louis too had a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it quickly vanished as he continued to tell her his account of what had happened. "When he finally got tired of punching me, he just-- he just left me there, bleeding on the floor. And that's the last thing I really remember before I blacked out. And now I'm sitting here in a hospital because of it," he finished explaining. He decided to leave out the insults that had been hurled back and forth because those, not the kicks and punches, were what hurt Louis the most. Especially the part about having his boyfriend "kiss it better". He didn't have a boyfriend. In fact, he had never even thought of guys that way before. Sure he'd never had a girlfriend, but that didn't mean he didn't like girls. It was actually the opposite. The girls didn't like him--at least in the "love" sort of way. They always had seen him more as a friend since he was constantly hanging out with them instead of the other boys. But he certainly was NOT gay. Everyone goes through an awkward phase, right? He would surely grow out of it.

"Louis, do you have any idea why they did this to you? Why you specifically were Kennedy's target?" Jay asked carefully.

"N-no," Louis stuttered. He averted his gaze from his mother's intense stare and picked at a loose string on his thin white sheet.

Jay noticed his hesitation and grabbed the boy's hands in her own to stop his nervous fidgeting. "BooBear, you know you can tell me anything, right?".

Louis mustered all the courage he could and looked straight into his mother's eyes. "Of course, mum. But I have no idea why it was me. Kennedy has always been a jerk," he said, shrugging. He felt really guilty lying straight to Jay's face like that, but he didn't want to tell her that it was because Kennedy was a homophobic jerk who thought Louis was gay just because he was supposedly too sensitive to be straight. No, that was too embarrassing. Plus, he didn't want his mum to start questioning his sexuality as well. He was already self-conscious enough without his own family judging him too. So Louis plastered a fake smile on his face and acted clueless.

"Alright, well I want you to be careful when we get you back to school. I've called Principle Turner who assured me that the incident is being taken very seriously and that Kennedy is receiving severe discipline for his actions. Seeing that there's nowhere else for him to attend, however, he won't be expelled. Mr. Turner has assigned teachers to hall duty from now on, though so there should always be someone looking out for trouble. You could transfer if you don't feel safe, Louis. I'll--" the opening of the door cut her off.

A nurse dressed in floral scrubs walked in with a scowl that looked permanently stuck to her face. "Doc says you don't have to be kept overnight. I'll have you sign a few papers," she said curtly, nodding to Jay, "and then you're free to go," she said gruffly.

She handed a few papers over and Jay scribbled her signature quickly before handing them back.

Looking over the papers quickly and seeming satisfied, the nurse turned her attention to Louis. "Now the doctor made it very clear that although you're being sent home, you can't do whatever you please. He's ordered bed rest until your stitches are removed and your bruising gets significantly better. So no rough housing, young man, because I, for one, do not want to be fixing stitches because someone couldn't follow orders. You hear me?" Louis nodded vigorously, his pale eyes wide. "Gentle with the head!" the nurse demanded.

"Er, right, sorry," Louis told her. With one last scowl and angry shake of her head, the cranky woman left the room while Jay and Louis gathered their few things quickly to follow her out.

That traumatizing day had been the fuel for Louis' nightmares ever since. The physical damage had long since faded, but the memories were far harder to shake. As hard as Louis tried to push them out of his mind, he found it impossible to do so for more than a few hours. His own piercing screams and small body trembling on the cold, hard floor, completely at Kennedy's mercy, haunted him from the minute his head hit the pillow and his eyes fluttered closed until he inevitably jolted awake in sheer panic, sweat drenching the sheets.

Eventually, the physical evidence left by Kennedy had disappeared and Louis was cleared to go back to school. Or, as Louis had come to know it, his own personal hell. He still remembered the feeling he had that first day back after his stint in the hospital. He felt as if his stomach was going to burst from the molten lava churning at the bottom. He was sure that at any moment, his nerves would cause him to blow up in a cloud of smoke and ash. But yet, he had braved it. He couldn't let Kennedy believe that he had crushed him to the point of never returning. Because Louis was a fighter. So all those years ago, he stood outside a building much like the one looming before him now, took a deep breath, and made his way back into the place where he had almost--but not quite--given up on himself completely. He had been strong enough then, and he was certainly even stronger now.

*****

Louis sighed heavily and took a deep breath before closing the remaining distance between him and the door looming almost menacingly in front of him before pushing it open. This was his chance. It was his turn to be the mentor instead of the miserable victim. He was ready.
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