Chapter Text
Louis didn’t want to sound desperate, but if Harry doesn’t kiss him tonight, he just might die.
It’s their second date, and they're parked at a drive-in theater pretending to watch a movie while sneaking looks at each other. This movie is two hours and five minutes long. They have spent one hour and fifty-five minutes not kissing.
If all goes according to Louis' plan, Harry’s going to be limping home tonight with ravaged hair and enough shimmer powder on his clothes to make him reflective to passing cars. He’s going to smell like Louis' pheromones for a week no matter how hard he scrubs.
Louis hasn’t been shy with the hint-dropping, drawing attention to his lips by licking, nibbling, and idly touching them—advice he got from Cosmopolitan. His shiny lip gloss was developed in a lab to magnetize the mouths of men, effective as fanning peacock feathers. Harry's primitive instincts won’t be able to resist. It’s also a magnet for his hair and he keeps getting the eye-watering taste of extra-hold hair spray in his mouth, but sometimes beauty requires sacrifice. On top of all this, Louis left hand drapes across his seat palm-up for maximum accessibility in case Harry would like to pick it up and take it home with him.
His hopes began to wither when Harry looks at him and then quickly away. Maybe he’s the kind of person who goes to the drive-in to actually watch the movie. As much as Louis hated to consider it, maybe Harry's simply not feeling this.
It wouldn’t be the first time a smooth-talking charmer dropped him off with a good-night kiss and ghosted Louis right when he thought things were getting good.
And then he sees it. A signal that arrives in the form of an empty mint wrapper sitting in the cup holder. He subtly sniffs the air and heck yes, that is definitely wintergreen he smells. Louis check the cup holder again and it’s even better than he'd thought.
Two empty wrappers! Harry's doubling up! A man doesn’t double up on mints unless he’s preparing for a little move-making. My god, this man is so handsome. Louis' half convinced he somehow tricked Harry into this.
He likes every single little thing about Harry. How He didn’t wait three days to call after the first date. All of his texts are grammatically correct. And how Louis has yet to receive an unsolicited dick pic. Already, Louis wants to reserve a ballroom for their wedding reception.
“Lou?” he says, and Louis blinks.
“Huh?”
Harry smiles. It’s so adorable that Louis smiles, too. “Did you hear me?”
The answer to that is no, because he's too busy admiring Harry's profile and being way too infatuated for it being so early in their… He can’t even call a relationship. They've only been on two dates. Get it together, Louis. He scolds himself
“Zone out a lot?” Harry guesses.
Louis can feel himself flush. “Yeah. Sorry. Sometimes people talk to me and I don’t even register it.”
Harry's smile only widens. “You’re cute.”
He thinks I'm cute? His heart flutters and glows. He gives an inner thankyou speech to his eyelashes and his low-cut (but still classy) shirt.
He cocks his head, studying Louis. “I was saying that the movie’s over.” Louis whips his head to face the screen and he’s right.
He has no idea how the movie ended and couldn’t even tell what the major plot points were. He thinks it was a romance, but who cares? He's much more interested in the romance happening here in this car.
The lot is now deserted, granting them enough privacy to make his imagination go wild. Anything could happen. It’s just him, Harry, and—
The pink cardigan folded neatly on his back seat, which obviously belongs to a woman, and that woman isn’t him.
Louis' stomach drops, and Harry follows his gaze. “That’s for my mother,” he says quickly.
Louis is not quite convinced until Harry shows him a HAPPY BIRTHDAY card beneath it, which he’s signed and added a personal message to. Love you, Mom! Louis inwardly swoons.
“That’s so nice,” Louis tells him, acutely aware of how isolated and intimate it feels in Harry's car. He's a mess of nervous butterflies, and the discarded mint wrappers keep snagging Louis eye. The movie’s over, so what was Harry waiting for? “Thanks for taking me here. Not many drive-ins left these days. Probably only a couple in the whole Midwest.”
It’s even rarer to find one that operates year-round. Luckily, they were provided with a complimentary electric heater to offset the insanity of doing something like this in January. They've got a few blankets spread over them, and for an out-of-the box winter date it’s been surprisingly cozy.
“There are eight left in the state, actually,” Harry says. The fact that he knows this piece of trivia right off the top of his head is impressive. “Are you hungry? There’s a frozen yogurt stand near here that has the best frozen yogurt you’ve ever had in your life.”
Louis' not a fan of frozen yogurt (especially when it’s cold out), but no way is he being anything but agreeable. They don’t know each other that well yet, and if he want to score a third date he need to come off as low maintenance. He's easygoing Louis, fun to hang out with and definitely fun to make out with. Maybe after the frozen yogurt he’ll kiss me. And possibly unbutton his shirt. “That sounds great!”
Instead of fastening his seat belt and driving away, Harry hesitates. Fiddles with the radio dials until static fuzz tunes in to an upbeat indie song called “You Say It Too.”
It hits Louis that Harry's fallen so quiet because he’s nervous, not disinterested, which surprises him because up until now Harry's exhibited nothing but confidence.
There’s a charge in the air and Louis' pulse accelerates with intuition of what’s to come. The rhythm of his blood is a chant. Yes! Yes! Yes!
“You’re beautiful,” he says earnestly, turning to face Louis in full. His eyes are hesitant as he bites his cheek and Louis is stunned that Harry's the nervous one here.
His heart skips as Harry leans toward him an inch. Then another. His lips part, gaze dropping to Louis mouth, and just like that Louis can no longer remember any other men he's ever dated, Harry's eclipsed them all so utterly. He’s intelligent and charming and perfect, absolutely perfect for Louis.
His heart is now lodged firmly in his throat. Harry's fingers stroke through his hair, tilting Louis' head up to meet his. Harry leans in that final inch and lights up Louis world like a shooting star, anticipation and wonder and a feeling of tremendous rightness barreling through Louis' veins. Harry kisses him and he's a goner, just like he knew would happen.
What a magical, extraordinary night.