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For Harry, the day starts at two in the morning when Louis runs cold fingers along the bumps of his spine. For Harry, the day starts the moment Louis presses a chaste kiss right at the tip of his nose.
It’s too: “Harry?” being whispered too softly in a room cluttered with too many clothes and too many memories. Than there’s a finger brushing along the sharp lining off his jaw, and the question; “are you awake?” being asked right against the skin on his shoulder, breathe hot and awakening.
He’s so tired and so cold and so in love. But Louis sounds sad, and he sounds vulnerable and desperate, and like Harry just mentioned, he is so fucking in love that the thought of ignoring him right now isn’t even a fucking option.
Like, he knows Louis. Has spent most of his life loving this boy, living for this boy, only, nobody else. And he’s learnt enough facts about him to write an entire book about it- about him- about them. Like, for instance, he’d talk about Louis’ restlessness and how sometimes that restlessness can thrum so loudly in his veins that he can’t even sleep some nights- mind cloudy with thoughts and doubts. Harry never wants him to stay up alone. He’d mention that as well. In their book of epic adventures and heavy hearts made light by youthful souls as well as hard kisses that leave you breathless and, sometimes, a little bit disorientated.
So Harry musters up the strength to say; “I am, love.” His voice is raw and hoarse, slow like honey and just as thick. “I’ve been awake for a while now, I think, though I might be lying.”
Louis snickers lightly, and he lets out this loud, hot, and sudden exhalation of air through his nostrils that sends a shock down Harry’s spine, causing his body to jolt and vibrate as it does this.
“Okay.” He says. “Just checking.”
Love, Harry’s come to find, is really fucking weird. Like really, really weird. It’s confusing and frustrating and
Love is weird, and frustrating and confusing. It’s a lot like having to go through that awkward phase of learning who you actually are, but a lot less embarrassing and a lot more significant.
Which is, ugh, you know? Like, Harry’s so in love with Louis and that fact always hits him in such random moments of his day, when he least expects it.
Right now is a good example of what he’s just said. It’s two am, and he’s just opened his eyes. The room is blurry, but it’s bathed in pale moonlight that’s seeping in through wide-open windows. It’s too cold and Harry’s mind is still a little hazy from exhaustion so he can’t remember who left the window open before they’d gone to bed. Anyway, what he’s trying to say is that, he isn’t even twenty-four years old, he barely knows what he wants to do with the law degree he’s studying, but what he is certain of is that he’s spending the rest of his remaining days loving and living with Louis.
“Why?” Harry asks, hand spanning out against the dip in his spine. Louis is so warm, he makes him feel warm all over as well.
Louis sighs, loudly and over exaggeratedly before shuffling closer when Harry moves so that he’s lying on his side as opposed to his back. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Sometimes, everything going on inside Louis’ head keeps him up at night a little longer than most, but other times everything going on inside his head keeps him up for the entire night and those nights can’t be fixed with a cup of tea like the rest.
Harry’s hand moves to rest on the curve of Louis’ waist and he leans forward to brush their noses together, causing a burst of soft giggles to tumble from Louis’ moist lips.
“Also just wanted to hear your voice.” Louis adds sheepishly, cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink that’s barely visible in this light as well as darkness.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Harry reassures him with a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. He tucks a strand of hair behind Louis’ studded years and yawns behind his hand. “I’m always going to be right here.” Harry slurs, blinking rapidly, while poking Louis’ chest, right above his heart. “Can’t imagine being with anybody else but you.”
Louis burns like the sun and it hurts to look at him, but it’s hard not to, especially since he’s so beautiful. Loving Louis is like signing yourself up for a first class experience in being burnt in a solar flare.
The way his eyes brighten makes Harry’s heart feel too large in his chest and he can almost feel the ends of his fingertips burning already. “Even when I’m old and grey?” Louis questions him, biting onto his bottom lip and raising one eyebrow. “Even when I can’t get it up as fast as I can now?”
Harry can’t help the laugh that erupts from his chest right then. It’s too sharp and too loud for their ears that had become accustomed to the silence they had been in before.
“Even then.” Harry tells him, grinning widely. There’s still little spurts of laughter escaping through his lips randomly. “Especially then.”
Louis laces their fingers together, and pulls their interlocked hands so that they’re pressed against his chest, right below his chin. The pillow they’re sharing smells like the summer that’s just came and gone, and at the end of the mattress, Harry can hear Pussy snoring quite loudly.
It’s two forty five in the morning and Harry’s awake to witness the way Louis’ eyes twinkle when he gets excited. “Tell me something” is what the demand Harry’s given, out of the blue.
“What do you want to hear?” Harry asks, blinking languidly and running his tongue over his lips. He’s still tired. “I’m not very interesting Lou,” he says jokingly, looking at Louis through eyes half open. “You know that.”
“I think you’re very interesting Haz.” He says with an eye roll that would intimidate anyone besides Harry, who just laughs, blushes, and then closes his eyes for a second.
“I love-“
“I know you do.” Louis cuts in, laughing this time. Harry laughs with him, and his lungs soft of constrict at the sound. “Trust me babe, I know you love me.” He continues to say, still laughing, before adding; “But you still need to tell me something, and it needs to be quick an interesting, because I’m bored.”
I love you. “Like what?”
Louis shrugs his shoulders. He presses his lips against Harry’s knuckles and peppers kisses along each finger. “Anything, maybe something about the future? That would be nice.” He rambles, and because he’s never been anything but honest and raw with all his emotions, he then adds: “because I’m really fucking scared,”
“Of what?”
“Of what comes after this.”
And, Harry would like to tell Louis that they’re future is nothing to be scared of- that they’ve got nothing to get scared over, but he’d be lying and he can’t do that to Louis, not now. They’ve got everything from now until forever to be scared off. They’re not as invincible as they like to feel. Life is hard and they’re still young, wild, and surviving.
They’re not significant. The world is big, and they’re just two stupid boys with a crazy amount of hope coursing through their thick veins. That’s the truth. That’s the inevitable that cannot be changed.
“I have no idea Lou.” Harry tells him, honestly, with a heavy heart. “There’s too many scenarios, too many dreams.” He mumbles, voice hoarse, “inside here,” he points to his head, eyes darting away from Louis’ burning gaze to look at the door behind him. “I think too much, about too many things, and I don’t know if you want to hear them but-“
“Tell me about your dreams.” Louis cuts him off, letting out a deep breathe. “I love you.” He says randomly, eyes closed and breathing shallow. The only evidence that he’s awake, excluding the fact that he’s talking, is by the way he’s playing footsie with Harry underneath the thick covers.
“I want us to have kids.” Harry starts off with, “three.”
“Mm?” Louis murmurs with a smile spreading, slowly, across his face.
“Yeah, three kids- they’ll be beautiful Lou. Can you imagine that? Them? Living in Los Angeles by the ocean in this fucking mansion babe, with Pussy and a dog named Puppy.”
Louis chuckles softly, biting on his lip. His eyes open and he blinks a couple of times to get used to the light again. “Puppy and Pussy.” He repeats, smiling wider now. “And what will we name our kids?
Ora, Kane and Elijah.”
“You’ve thought about this for quite some time.”
“I love you.” Harry replies as if that’s valid answer, which is apparently is, judging by the way Louis’ smile widens. “A lot, like, yeah.” He adds on, cheeks burning in the darkness.
If Louis notices, he chooses not to say anything about the vibrant pink flourishing on Harry’s fair skin. All he asks is; “So two boys and one girl?
Harry nods his head sheepishly.
“I’d like that.” Louis laughs. “Ora,” he singsongs, eyes widening in excitement, “our little fiery ball of independence and strength.”
“We’ll have the entire world in our hands Lou.” Harry whispers once he’s let out a soft hum at the thought of their little girl being this sudden lightening bolt of wisdom and youth, happiness and everlasting love.
“We already do Haz.”
“We don’t.” Harry says as he squeezes Louis’ limp hand. “Not really.” He adds before continuing and saying; “We have a bit of it, but do you really think that’s enough? Having a little bit of something that is so big? I’m greedy. I want it all. I want to give you the universe, and giving you half of it isn’t enough for me, neither is it fair to you.”
Louis’ hand is soft against his cheek, and the way he swipes his thumb swiftly across his cheek bone makes his eyes close for a brief second before opening them up.
“You don’t deserve this.” Harry spills out, laying himself bare on the floor the way he does all the time for Louis. “I just- I can’t fucking let you think that this is enough. You’re never going to deserve a mattress on the floor as some pathetic excuse for a bed, nor are you ever going to deserve days- months, sometimes, spent without electricity or water or even fucking good just because money’s tight.”
Harry doesn’t even get a chance to reply before Louis’ saying; “I’ll take whatever you can give me.”
“What I’m giving you isn’t enough.”
Louis sighs and suddenly, Harry realizes how fucking tired he looks, how worn out and scared he looks. Jesus Christ, Harry loves him with his whole heart.
“I’ll take whatever you can give me Harry.” He repeats, voice sharper.
His eyes look translucent- almost as if they’re glowing in the dark or something, and it’s fucking beautiful how bright he is even when he’s surrounded by such darkness.
“You’re enough.” He continues, “You’re always going to be enough. The world will always be ours, always has been. Just give it some time, yeah? For now though, while we wait and try and survive, we should probably enjoy this time we have in this tragic period of our golden lives. And, to be honest, I’d choose you over the world any day.”
Harry can’t help but frown like the child he never grew out of. “I want to give you the universe now though.” He whines.
Louis’ eyes twinkle in such a way that a fire spreads through Harry’s chest like a wildfire, but quicker, and hotter. He smiles and says; “Am I allowed to tell you that you’re my universe?”
Harry shakes his head and laughs too loudly without meaning to. The clock strikes quarter two four and a little bit of Harry is still confused as to why he’s awake.
“I think you think too much of me.”
“I think you think too little of yourself.”
Louis sits up and stretches his body, sighing in relief as bones in his spine click. His body is lean and golden, and when he stretches across Harry to grab an unopened pack of cheap cigarettes on the floor, Harry’s senses are engulfed with the overwhelming smell of home.
When he’s sat down again, he flicks open the cigarette pack and pulls one out, slipping it in between his lips almost immediately. He then moves to pat the floor on his side of the bed for a light, and once he finds it, he lights the cigarette and keeps his eyes trained on Harry’s gaze while he inhales deeply, cheeks sinking in.
There’s a smile on his face when he exhales, it’s cocky and so Louis that Harry’s heart almost bursts with adoration.
“Whatever.” Harry mutters, moving his hands frantically in between them to get the hazy grey smoke covering their view of each other away. He props his elbows on the bed and rests his chin on the palm of his hands, tilting his head to the side.
Louis takes another long drag of his cigarette and closes his eyes in the process, leaning his head back so that it’s pressed against the wall.
Harry can’t take his eyes off him.
“In twenty years, we’ll be able to afford those really expensive cigarette.” Harry says. “The pretty ones with the colours and the flavours, and all that shit that comes with buying expensive cigarettes. We’ll even afford cigars, all the way from Cuba and shit baby. Better weed, Lou- the best in the fucking world.
Louis’ eyes stay closed and he runs his tongue over his lips, making them bright red and moist. Harry’s paying close attention to the rise and the fall of his chest, as well as the tattoo’s scattered across his body. When Harry’s eyes land on his collarbones, he imagines this crazy scenario in his head, where he’s scooping up buckers of the entire Atlantic ocean to pour into his collarbones but still having large enough space to pour the entire Indian ocean too, as well as a little bit of the Pacific.
“The world in our hands.” Louis slurs, rolling his head to the side and opening his eyes slightly in order to catch a glimpse of Harry. “Imagine that.”
Harry’s heart soars through the ceiling and beats loud enough for the entire city of London to hear. “Yeah,” he breathes out, overwhelmed, suddenly, and once again, by the boy lying beside him, whom he’s loved for so long. “Imagine that.
*
“I hate winter.”
“I love winter.”
When Louis’ eyes land on Harry, they’re striking blue. He huffs, a sarcastic smile appearing on his face- lips pale and pink. “It’s not like you have a tan to maintain.” He coos condescendingly, leaning over the table between them to lay a hand on Harry’s shoulder and rub that spot gently. He then moves to sit back down and pulls his jacket tighter around his body.
Harry’s mouth drops open in pure shock. His boyfriend is a legitimate piece of shit! He kicks his shin under the table and rolls his eyes when Louis doesn’t hiss in pain, but instead, gives him this face splitting grin that tints his cheeks pinker than they already are.
It’s two thirty pm now, and they’re sitting at this restaurant they discovered two years ago, after Louis made Harry chase him down the street until they were four blocks away from where they lived.
The restaurant is called; ‘Mine And Yours’ and they’ve been coming here almost every day since they crash-landed into it. It’s small and cute, decorated with cactuses that hang from the roof with fluorescent white lights tucked right in the middle of the pot. Louis likes the baby blue wall with the different assortment of hats.
“I love you.” Harry blurts out randomly, eyes flickering up from the steaming hot chocolate in front of him. As he takes a sip, his face breaks out into a grin that he can’t hide, and when the hot chocolate in his mouth dribbles down his chin, Louis’ eyes brighten up.
“Me too.”
A groan rips through Harry’s moist lips immediately, and he huffs in frustration. Louis is fucking ridiculous, he thinks, as he subconsciously leans over the table to brush his thumb across a fading scar below Louis’ left eye.
“You’re annoying.”
“I love you too.” Louis replies cheekily, blushing. “A lot.”
Harry gives him a cheeky wink, one that causes an instant frown to wash upon Louis’ face. But, just as Louis’ about to complain, Harry surges forward and captures his mouth in a bruising kiss.
Louis kisses back desperately, once he’s gotten over the initial shock of it all, and his eyes fall close when Harry cups his right cheek with his hand. His own hand then moves to rest over Harry’s, the one on his cheek, as if telling him to stay there- to not go.
With them, things move in fast-forward, and before Harry even knows it Louis’ sitting on his lap, legs spread on either side of him, and chest pressed against his. He’s letting out these small whimpers into Harry’s mouth, and rocking his hips gently, hands wrapped around the base of Harry’s neck.
Harry’s crazy for this boy. It’s fucking crazy. He’d stand in the middle of a burning fire to see this boy smile, even if it’s just a little twitch. Honestly, if that isn’t a good enough description for the pathetic amount of love Harry bleeds for Louis than the sun might as well just collapse on the earth right now.
And the thing is, Louis is so fucking beautiful. He’s lost count of how many times he’s thought this. He knows this even with his eyes closed and his tongue down Louis’ throat.
“Stop, shit.” Harry gasps against Louis’ lips when things start to get too hot. “I’m gonna get a fucking boner.” He says, moving his head to rest on Louis’ shoulder. “It’d be bloody embarrassing.”
Louis kisses his forehead and sighs softly, fingers running through Harry’s knotty hair. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” He sings, voice hoarse and airy.
“To live in the kind of world where we belong.” He sings back, laughing when Louis does.
“You’re so cringe.” Louis hums, chewing on his bottom lip mischievously. It’s only when he jerks his hips forward that Harry finally gets the sly smile Louis had on his face before, and he throws his head back at the shock of unexpected pleasure that shoots up his spine. Involuntarily, he lets out this breathless- and quite embarrassing- mixture between a deep moan and a sudden burst of laughter that sends Louis into another fit of laughter.
“Fuck you!” Harry exclaims, flustered and overwhelmed. “Oh my god! Louis, you’re such a bastard!” He continues, hands tightening around the meaty part of his waist. When Louis lifts his one eyebrow, Harry copies him, to which he just shrugs his shoulders about and turns around abruptly so that he’s sitting on Harry’s lap with his back now pressed against Harry’s chest.
Under the table, Harry tangles their feet together.
“I’m the best boyfriend ever.”
“Cute.”
Louis giggles quietly to himself, and his entire body vibrates with the sound. “Feed me some of that brownie.”
Harry scoffs and tips his head back slightly, closing his eyes as he does so. There’s a teeny tiny bit of sun now. Harry’s not sure where it’s come from and when it showed up, but what is it doing is giving off enough light to make London look like it’s actually still sustaining life, still, even during these terrifyingly cold winter months that have just swooped in. Plus, some of the sun’s rays are pointing directly onto Harry’s face and his nose has felt frozen since he was woken up this morning at arse-o-clock in the morning.
“Nah.” He replies lifting his hand to his eye to rest is there randomly. “ I’m almost completely sure that you’ve got two fully functioning hands babe.”
In front of them, is a glass window and when Louis angrily says; “Just because I’ve got two hands doesn’t justify your reasoning for why you can’t feed me that brownie?” Harry’s eyes open and he lifts his head to meet Louis’ gaze in their reflection in front of them.
Instead of falling head first into his manipulation tricks, Harry shoots him a smile and averts his gaze away from Louis’, hanging his head back and closing his eyes. Once Louis’ come to the realization that hey, fuck, this piece of shit isn’t actually going to do anything, he scoffs and gets up so that he can go back to where he had been sitting before.
This time though, his frown deepens even more, and with one sharp glimpse at the brownie right in front of him, he presses himself against the cold window and crosses his arms tightly over his chest.
“So you’re not going to eat the brownie?”
There’s a pause before he hears a plate banging on the table and Louis grunting. “I actually fucking am.” Louis answers, voice as monotone as Harry’s, who’s burning up underneath the glare that’s being shot to him.
There’s another pause, and this one is filled with the horrid sounds of Louis chewing too loudly that Harry bought for himself after Louis kept constantly reminding Harry that, no, he was not at all hungry.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” Harry mumbles out as he lifts his head up and opens his eyes. He grimaces at the sight beheld in front of him, and his face contorts right when Louis looks at him grins widely, showing of the smearing of chocolate brownie stained onto his teeth. “Ew.”
Because he’s so obnoxious and so childish, Louis snickers and takes a nibble of the brownie, eyes trained on Harry’s. “You’re just as much of a nuisance.” He blubbers, bits of chewed brownie falling out of his mouth.
It’s unfortunate really, that Harry can still watch him splutter out mushy particles of a brownie that he rubbed all over his teeth just to spite Harry, and still say- with unwavering confidence, that he’s so in love with him it hurts on some days.
Louis is love. Harry loves Louis, unconditionally. He’s never wanted anyone but Louis; he’s never going to want anyone but Louis.
His cheeks are flushed pink, and there are laughter lines visible at the corners of his mouth. Harry tries to pay attention to what he’s saying, and when his gaze diverts to his lips once again, he then tries to focus on the way Louis’ playing footsie with him underneath the table.
The brownie still isn’t finished and Louis refuses to not just leave it. He just keeps taking these little bites that leave little smudges of chocolate on his two front teeth.
Goodness fucking Gracious, he’s so remarkably beautiful.
Suddenly, Louis stops rambling and his mouth closes into a knowing smirk. “You’re staring.” He states before popping the late bite of the brownie into his mouth and wiping his mouth straight afterwards.
Harry’s eyes follow the fast movements of Louis’ hands as he dusts crumbs off of his sweater. “Stop talking with your mouth open shit head.” He tells them absentmindedly, moving his body forward and leaning his elbows on the table. “And that’s my sweater.”
Louis snorts cutely and the corners of his eyes crease- an insignificant detail of him that Harry salivates over- anyway, so Louis’ eyes crease and for a moment Harry wonders if this will be another rare moment where Louis doesn’t disgust him.
Life is shit though, and Harry’s once again reminded of that universal fact when Louis opens his mouth widely to reveal the remaining mushed up particles of the brownie on his back teeth, as well as tongue.
“I’m so done with you.” Harry chuckles, rolling his eyes and falling back so that he’s pressed against the seat again. He takes the serviette lying underneath his thigh and throws it at Louis’ face.
“You love me though.” Louis replies looking down at the serviette he’s now tearing up for fun. He looks back up at Harry and laughs almost pityingly before saying; “A lot, actually
Harry’s hand moves to cover his mouth the moment he feels a fond smile pulling at his lips. He shakes his head and turns his head away from him, stopping when the cute four-year-old boy chatting away to his mother about Teenage Mutant Turtle catches his eyes attention. His eyes linger on him for a while and the smile on his face grows.
When he looks back at Louis, he’s already looking at him with bright eyes and a cigarette that’s just been tucked behind his ears.
“I still find you disgusting.”
“And?” Louis answers back cheekily, chest rumbling with the laughter falling from his lips. “What does that change?”
Harry opens his mouth in attempt to say something, but Louis beats him to it.
“Yeah,” He says smugly, “you’re right, nothing.”
Harry doesn’t reply, can’t seem to find his voice anymore. The sun’s gone away again. Louis shoots him a comforting wink, probably sensing the drop in his mood, and Harry rubs his foot against his as a ‘Thank you’ that nobody else would really understand besides Louis, who then goes to pull his beanie over his nose.
“What on earth are you doing?” Harry asks, confused. He gives out a short chortle of laughter when Louis sticks his tongue out at him.
“I want you to take a picture of me!”
To love Louis is like volunteering to be thrown off a cliff with a parachute but knowing it doesn’t work.
It’s fucking terrifying throughout the entire trip to your inevitable death and for those who have survived their own stupidity, Harry would like to meet them one day and congratulating them for not making the same mistake, and for those that didn’t make it, he’d like to congratulate them to for being still having the bravery to fling themselves off a cliff.
He’d then go off to tell them that, if they’d tried hard enough to find a tiny little crack in the cliff to hang onto, maybe they would’ve made it; maybe they would’ve survived.
“Memories,” Louis says, pulling Harry out of his deep, cringe, philosophical thoughts. He’s making kissy noises and looking at Harry with one eye. “Memories are good.”
From his back pack, Harry pulls out the grubby Polaroid camera Louis got for him two years ago on his birthday and holds it up against his face, so that the lens is in line with his eye.
He takes two snaps of Louis. The one is of him with one finger in his mouth and the other hand pressed dramatically against his forehead, and the other is of him just laughing, raw and honest, with hunched shoulders and that one eye pecking out from underneath the grey beanie he’s wearing.
There’s a bit of Harry that believes that, maybe, him and Louis have loved each other in all the lifetimes that existed before this one. He’s always been it for Harry. Even at sixteen he knew this.
And now Louis’ laughing and he just won’t stop. It’s loud and so fucking electric. Harry’s so in awe of him that he can do nothing but watch him.
Did Harry ever mention the hammering feeling in his chest he’s had ever since meeting Louis? It hasn’t stopped since. It’s sore, sometimes, and it occurs right against his rib cage. Harry often wonders when was the last time that it stopped. He often wonders whether it’s ever going to stop. He doesn’t think so.
Louis is looking at him like he moulded the entire galaxy just for him.
No. He’s defiantly sure that it’ll never stop.
“Did I scare you?” Louis asks playfully, laughter evident in the pitch of his voice. He’s calmed down now, but every minute or so he’ll let out a short burst of laughter.
Harry forces himself not to reach over and pinch his cheeks. He wants to tell him how sweet he looks, how desperately he wants him for the rest of his life, but he bites his tongue.
“Sure?”
Louis gasps and pushes back more of the beanie so that he can see out of his other eye. “What the fuck Haz?” he practically screams, luring everybody’s attention to them. His eyebrows are furrowed together in mock hurt and when he asks; “are you lying to me?” he’s biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.
“Nope.” Harry whispers, loud enough for Louis to hear, moving his hand across the table to cover Louis’ hand with his. They always need to touch each other. It’s always been like that. Louis tends to get antsy when Harry doesn’t touch him in some way for a while.
Silence, though very rare, is never uncomfortable or boring for them.
For instance, right now Louis’ watching him as he watches Louis and the smile on his face his sneaky and youthful. Harry would ask him what he’s thinking but he’s tired, suddenly, and with the way Louis’ rubbing a tooth thumb over Harry’s rough knuckles, he can’t promise anyone that he won’t fall asleep quite soon.
Harry’s eyes close but he opens them quickly again when Louis laughs lowly, top set of teeth latched onto the corner of his bottom lip.
“D’you wanna hear a joke?” Louis slurs, eyes half open and scarf now wrapped tighter around his neck.
Harry shrugs and sighs loudly, pushing himself so that he’s sitting a little bit more straight than before. “Sure.”
Ignoring his blunt reply, Louis starts his joke by asking; “Why did Sally fall off the swing?”
The thing is, Louis repeats this same joke to him almost every day since Zayn told it to them two months ago. Harry is a good person though, with a heart that does the Macarena every time Louis’ name is even whispered loud enough for him to hear, and because of his semi-good intentions, he forces himself look like he’s thinking hard for a answer he knows.
“Because her hands were too oily?” he answers stupidly, eyebrows furrowing together and lips parting as he fakes confusion.
Harry thinks hard like he doesn’t know the answer t the joke Louis tells him almost every day. “Because she wasn’t concentrating?” he lies and Louis shakes his head.
“No” he drags out, getting excited and sitting up on his knees. “Because she had no arms!” Louis exclaims, laughing like it’s the funniest thing ever when, in actual fact, it’s probably one of the crudest jokes Harry’s ever heard.
He laughs despite that, and clears his throat. “Knock, Knock.” He says, smile widening at the sight of Louis’ eyes lighting up.
“Who’s there?”
Together they shout; “Not Sally!” with their index fingers pointing at each other. The sixty-year-old married couple sitting behind them seem younger than them at this moment, and Harry would care but he doesn’t- not when his entire body is shaking with the laughter falling from his lips.
And fuck, he’d like to thank everyone who has ever done anything good to him in his life. His heart is still beating and there’s still air in his lungs, which if fucking great, like shit- Harry is so fucking proud of himself, so in awe of how impossibly happy and free he is right now in his life despite all the obstacles he’s had to face in the past, and currently.
He’d send the first thank you to his mum and his step-dad, thanking them for not finding him good enough to love whole-heartedly because he was in love with a boy, thanking them for teaching him that love is not conditional or full of restrictions.
It’s fucking universal, is the thing, and life changing and breath taking, and hard, but beautiful in so many ways. And it’s in moments like this, when he’s buzzing with light and love and happiness and acceptance and Louis, that he realizes how far they’ve come together in terms of life and surviving it.
They’re destined for greatness, Harry thinks, watching Louis scrunch his nose up as his laughter fades away to quiet giggles.
He’s the most spectacular person in this room. Maybe even the entire world, or universe even.
“That’s a horrible joke.” Harry says, still trying to catch his breathe. His hands come to touch his cheeks, which are hot and aching, and he wonders whether or not he looks as happy as he feels.
Louis sighs loudly, and over-dramatically, before propping his elbows onto the table and breathing out a soft, “yeah” with a hoarse voice. “It is funny though.” He says, smiling, “if it weren’t I wouldn’t repeat to you almost every day. Zayn’s a genius.”
“And a Capricorn.” Harry says. He’s mimicking the saying Louis constantly uses when speaking about him, Zayn, or any other person who shares the same astrology sign as him whom he finds great just because of that.
Louis recoils, taken off guard, but shocked and amused nonetheless. He smiles and says; “Yes.” Before saying, as he crosses his arms over his chest, “that’s why.”
To be honest, sometimes Harry’s perfectly content with the life he lives now. He hasn’t got much to live for but the things he is living for are, well this is his opinion, pretty fucking great. There’s warmth and comfort in the dodgy restaurants he spends cold days in, or the cheap hot chocolate drank with stale brownies he’s got to share with a mischievous blue-eyed ball of love he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Life, Harry’s come to notice, is actually only as hard as you make it out to be for yourself. Plus, how the hell is Harry meant to hate anything about his life when he’s got Louis to love and treasure? The boy is breath taking really, he is. And, like, he’s so patient with Harry, so understanding, and Harry doesn’t want to hate the life Louis tried to hard to make from scratch for them after everything collapsed.
“I think you’re the best thing ever.” Louis blurts out randomly, cheeks tinting pink and eyes widening in shock. They laugh together, weak bursts of giggles spilling out of each other’s mouth lips. “I really do.”
“You too.” Harry replies, just as their giggles are beginning to fade. “I think you’re good too.” He tells him before saying, “thank you.”
They lean forward at the exact same time to kiss each other and Harry sighs into it, the moment his lips touch Louis’, which are warm and still taste like chocolate brownie.
Harry murmurs, “Lou” softly, against his mouth, when Louis’ grip on his neck gets tighter.
“Hmm?” Louis moans, attempting to kiss him deeper.
Harry pulls away, and furrows his eyebrows. “Hmm?”
When Louis doesn’t open his eyes, Harry interlocks their fingers, and only then does Louis move forward to rest his forward on Harry’s all with a new, and faint, smile on his face. “Yeah.” He says.
His eyes snap open, and they’re bluer than anything Harry’s ever witnessed before.
“Hmmm.”
“You’re so creative!” Harry exclaims sarcastically.
Instead of retaliating like Harry was expecting him to, Louis kisses each of his knuckles on his right hand before, with his mouth still pressed on the lack knuckle, whispering; “how about we get out of here?”
“Yeah, fuck, okay.” Harry agrees, sliding out the booth in lighting speed. He hadn’t even realised how much he’d wanted to leave until Louis mentioned it. “Of course, now, please.”
“Okay!” Louis whines, pulling Harry out the door fast like they’ve got somewhere to be when they don’t. “Stop pleading!”
Harry rolls his eyes and thinks of their home, and then thinks about all the things they’ve got back at home waiting for them: like Pussy and each other, wrapped in countless amounts of blankets, with scented teas and shitty music played from a shitty radio.
For now though, he just pulls his boy closer to him for extra warmth.
It’s colder out here, in the real world, outside of thinning walls that hold the strong smell of coffee and bright dreams and everlasting youth. Harry’s boots are sinking into the snow below him.
“I’ve got spray paint.” Harry says, teeth chattering. “With me, in my bags. I don’t want to go home.”
“I’ve got some Kush-“
Harry snorts and hoists his backup further up on his back. “Kush?”
“Weed you son of a cunt! Jesus fucking Christ, please excuse me for trying to be fucking cool. Anyway, Zee gave me some really good weed yesterday.” Louis rambles, moving his body so his chest is pressed right against Harry’s, making it easier for him to wrap his arms around his neck. Harry’s hands slide into the back pockets of his tight black skinny jeans and, against the cold skin on Harry’s neck, he says; “we can demolish the city.” Before confirming it by saying, “we could, we can.”
“Demolish the city?”
Louis kisses the skin there, and Harry bites back a hiss at the sudden heat. “Together” Louis mutters softly, pulling back to look at Harry with smouldering blue eyes that look colder than the icicles hanging above them, frozen. “We’ll demolish the city together.”
A little part of Adam had to have known what the fuck he was getting himself into when he ate that apple. He’s human, and Eve must’ve been beautiful.
Harry agrees without even taking into thought what Louis means by ‘demolishing the city’ and frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. And that attitude is probably the same attitude Adam had when Eve stood in front of him naked with a juicy red apple in his head.
Fuck it.
If this isn’t some type of metaphor, another one, for something, anything, than maybe he’s a fucking lunatic- crazy and in love with a boy who could change humankind, but this time no apple is involved.
*
Think of buckets and buckets of bright, lively, colours poured onto around the universe.
Then think of something loud and beautiful and excruciatingly full of light and wonder.
Then think of Louis.
Harry’s not like that- not as loud or worth paying much attention to. He’s buckets of grey and navy blue, black and earthy green. They’re complete opposites from each other, and while Louis might hold similar resemblance to burning fire, than Harry’s the ocean.
Gemma once compared him to gravity and Harry thinks it’s because he has a tendency to hold things down to earth, and sometimes it’s suffocating but other times it’s what people need. Louis says it’s easy to depend on him and that scares Harry more than it should flatter him.
When Harry and Louis are together, Harry feels infinite, and all his dark colours are replaced with colours like: vivid red, luminous green and bright yellow.
Right now, Harry’s lime green.
Float-y, happy, and greatly great in all the ways that they are!
Not only that, but he wants to fly! He wants to be a bird! He wants to flap his wings all the way up to the universe and then continue to flap his wings until he reaches the ends of the galaxy where, finally, hopefully, he’ll meet God.
Maybe he’ll finally, hopefully, become God.
But, then again, he is ridiculously high. So high that he hasn’t stopped running around this empty, abandoned, Skate Park they’ve come to call theirs, since he started running. His legs are sore and his chest feels tight and his mind can’t stop spinning.
He feels foolish and young and electric. His ears are buzzing with the sound of Louis’ loud laughter, and when he laughs again- just as sudden as the last- he takes a sharp breath or air and doesn’t stop.
It’s been a long time since Harry’s felt as present in any moment than he does in this one right now.
With reckless abandon, they’ve managed to spray paint every grey wall in the skate park, and now the place is drowning in light. Gold is the only colour they haven’t used and each of them have a full can in their hands. Harry’s got his pointing up towards the sky and his finger is pressed down hard against the cap.
“Colour the sky!” is what Louis’ been chanting over and over again, dancing beneath the gold particles that are falling from the sky. “Colour the sky!”
They’ve made a mess of themselves.
There are blotches of metallic red, neon pink, green, yellow, blue, white, silver, black, and now gold all over his clothing, and he’s ready to lie to himself and tell himself that all of these blotches will come off when washed.
They won’t, and a part of him hopes they don’t. He doesn’t want his memory of them, right now, to become hazy. He wants it to stay as vivid as it is currently.
As vivid as the walls they’ve brought to life again, around them, and as vivid as them.
When Harry turns to look at Louis, both hands dropping at his sides, he’s quick to notice the specks of gold all over his face, and clothes, as well as the bold streaks of gold in his hair.
His first thought is, “Golden boy!” which he shouts out with a voice loud and clear. Louis doesn’t stop spinning though, doesn’t stop laughing, and Harry shouts, “Golden boy!” again.
This time, Louis stops. It’s abrupt and it comes with a staggering wobble to the left that makes them both let out a huff of amusement.
Louis takes one last hit from the finished joint in his fingers before dropping it and crushing it beneath his shoes.
“Hi!” He exclaims, waving at Harry slowly, and grinning with wide red-rimmed eyes.
Just as Harry’s about to reply, Louis starts to run really fast towards him, and Harry decides that he’s ready even before wondering if he actually is. It’s Louis though, and whether or not Harry did think his sudden readiness through, Louis wouldn’t care enough to stop running.
Which can be good more times than it isn’t, because when Louis jumps into Harry’s (already) open arms, he lets out this shriek of laughter that sounds a lot like pure bliss, and Harry’s feels ach-y in a really spectacular kind of way.
Harry spins them around and Louis’ arms go up, high into the air. He tightens his legs around his waist and tips his head further back, arms stretching further up.
In the end, they fall. The ground is layered with snow so when Harry’s lands on his back, it doesn’t hurt as much as it would without the snow. Louis falls right onto him and props his elbows on each side of his head, legs spread so that he’s got one knee on the right and left side of Harry’s body.
Louis is impeccably bright, Harry thinks, as they stare at each other wordlessly, out of breath and out of touch with the reality that’s being lived outside of these electrifying walls.
Of course, as Harry mentioned before, the two of them rarely experiences silence, and it’s only ever on their terms.
“Hey baby,” Louis coos, voice as soft and as raw as the snow melting in through Harry’s jersey. “You look like an angel.” He says, leaning down to give Harry an Eskimo kiss, to which he grins at. “A snow angel.” He continues, laughing gently to himself.
Did Harry mention the flushness of his cheeks? He doesn’t know if it’s from the cold, or from harry, or from having run around consistently for two whole hours. It could be all three.
Did he mention how gloriously beautiful Louis looks with eyes rimmed red from the weed?
He’s the one who looks like an angel. Not a snow one, because Louis hates winter, but one of those special golden ones that aren’t forgotten about.
Louis’ one of those. The golden ones with big hearts and the brave souls and the selflessness that is, more often than not- well, in Louis’ case- selfishness.
“I wanna give you a kiss.” Louis says, gazing down at Harry through half-lid eyes. “Can I give my favourite boy a kiss?” he asks, grinning.
“Nah mate, not sure if that’s a good idea.” Harry jokes, sticking his tongue out jokingly.
“Well,” Louis singsongs, creeping his hands up underneath Harry’s woolly jumper to grip at the skin on his waist, “I think you do.” He finishes his statement off with a smirk, chuckling at the way Harry’s entire body shudders when his fingers press harshly against Harry’s protruding hipbones.
Harry’s in the middle of complaining about Louis being an utter nuisance when immediately kept quiet by Louis, who does this by swooping down and pressing his lips against Harry’s hard and passionately.
Despite being caught off guard, he kisses back immediately and makes no move in stopping Louis when he slowly starts to rock his hips back and forth, grinding down against Harry’s cock.
Breathless, Harry curls a hand around Louis’ neck and lets him take full control of this kiss. His breath hitches every time Louis presses his hips hard against Harry’s.
“Fuck,” Harry moans as Louis moves his swollen mouth down to suck love bites all along the lining of Harry’s jaw and neck. He takes a deep breathe, something he forgot to do when they were making out, and combs his fingers through his hair with one hand while the other spans across his back, pulling him closer.
He wants it faster and harder. Louis knows that. It’s evident in the hard grip Harry’s got on his hips that, at some point, Louis smacks away before laughing airily into the crook of Harry’s neck.
“Please Lou,”
“Please what baby?” Louis questions as he lifts up a little so they’re face to face. His pupils are blown and his eyes are almost navy blue. The faint scatterings of gold on his cheeks are visible enough for Harry to see and run his fingers over.
He thinks; my Golden boy.
He thinks; my love, my light, my life.
And then without any hesitation, he blurts “you.” Which is the answer to Louis’ previous question. “It’s been you and it’ll be you.” He continues to say, bucking his hips up to try gain some sort of friction.
Weed always makes him desperate and needy, and Louis enjoys taking care of people he loves.
“Always you.”
When Harry’s thumb moves down to press into the corner of Louis’ lips, his mouth opens slightly. Seconds ago, he closed his eyes briefly at the feel of Harry still stroking his cheek gently, forgetting about the dominance he had.
Harry likes that- this, more specifically. He likes knowing that he can be the calm to the storm that is Louis- someone who is so brave and so loud. The idea that, even though Louis could tear him apart with the same hands that could sew him back together again, he could do the exact same thing but with more patience.
“You have me.” Louis tells him, eyes snapping open to reveal an even more blown out pupil, which sends a shiver down Harry’s spine while also causing a dirty smirk to tug at the corners of Louis’ tinted red lips.
The way he’s moving his hips is driving Harry fucking crazy, and in some daringly hopeful attempt at easing his desperation, Harry pushes himself off from the ground for a kiss- a kiss that he’s not given, because the moment he leans up, Louis’ pushing him back down again.
With glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, Louis tilts his head to the right slightly, sucking his bottom lip into his hot mouth.
“Louis.” Harry whines. “Lou, fuck c’mon. I’m so desperate.”
At that, Louis laughs and tips his head back. His hips move faster and with each grind, he lets out these short gasps of pleasure that leave Harry feeling breathless with want.
“If I get you off…” He starts, lifting his head and dropping his gaze down to meet Harry’s underneath him, “then you have to promise to wash the dishes for 2 whole weeks.” He demands with a shaky voice.
“No! I-“
Immediately, Louis stops and begins to attempt getting off him, which Harry can’t, and will not, fucking allow in this state of horniness that he’s currently suffocating in.
“Okay!” He exclaims, moving his hands to grip on Louis’ thighs to stop him. “I’ll do it!”
Louis grins, all sharp teeth and crinkled eyes and glorifying glory.
Harry watches with pained eyes as Louis continues to move off him. Seeing this, Louis laughs, and once he’s got himself snuggled in between Harry’s open legs, chin moving to rest right above the obvious bulge in Harry’s pants, he mumbles a sharp; “oh shush now.” Before unzipping Harry’s jeans and shoving them down to his knees. “I’m going to suck you off.” Louis tells him, eyes fixated on Harry’s lips, which are most probably raw and swollen. “Stop looking at me like a killed a kitten.” He continues, gently pulling his underwear down to his knees as well.
Whatever comment Harry had planned on saying gets sucked back down his wind pipe, and instead of the argument that would’ve begun if it weren’t for the tight, warm, hand gripping at the base of his cock, Harry lets out this deep, guttural, moan that has him throwing his head back in pleasure (and just a teeny bit relief.)
It takes a couple seconds for Harry to piece together his mind again, and when the heavy thumping of his heart against his chest has dimmed, he props himself up on his elbows. He’s got one hand holding a fist full of now next to him and another resting on his knitted grey sweater, fingers occasionally twitching every time Louis presses his tongue flat against the head of his cock, before pulling back to kiss the tip.
Eventually, like Harry expected (and almost prayed would happen quicker) the teasing came to an abrupt end the minute Louis’ patience ran dry.
And with pure impulsivity, genuine enthusiasm, and raw want clouding his mind, Louis wastes no time with getting Harry’s cock into his mouth. The hand still gripping the base of Harry’s cock tightens and twists, just a little, as Louis guides more of Harry into his hot, tight mouth.
Christ. Harry feels his stomach tighten and his elbows weaken. His head falls back and through parted lips, he lets out a shaky breathe of air that creates a mist as it leaves his mouth.
“I need you to watch me.” Louis demands, right after he’s pulled off completely. There are spurts of pre-cum shooting out the tip of Harry’s cock, and Louis runs his tongue around the head, licking up all the pre-cum. “I need you to watch me.” He murmurs, mouth opening wider to slip the cock between his lips again.
The sound he makes around Harry’s cock is so hot, and he brings his hands up to grip at Harry’s thighs before flickering his eyes up at Harry quickly and sucking him all the way down, until the tip hits the back of his throat.
Louis gags a little and Harry’s got to force himself to keep his head up. The wind has picked up, not a lot, but enough to have blown Harry’s hair to the front of him face, meaning that he’s got to shake it all away from his face for an ace view of Louis sucking him off.
Harry’s got the best boyfriend in the world. He thinks this as he watches Louis lick a fat stripe up the side of his cock, before swirling his tongue around the head, and sucking him all the way back into his mouth again, until his nose brushes against the skin and hair right above his cock.
Has Harry ever said anything about not wanting any one other than Louis for the rest of his life? If he hasn’t, he’ll say- or repeat- it now.
Harry doesn’t ever want any other boy in his life to love other than Louis. And it’s not just because of how, when Harry’s hand weaves through his feathery to grip at a few strands at the back and force him down, he chokes, moans filthily, and doesn’t complain.
“Holy fuck.” Harry swears out loud, panting and tugging on Louis’ hair even harder, causing him to moan even filthier around Harry’s cock, eyes fluttering close.
The vibrations created from the sound make Harry moan as well, louder, and with fewer restrictions other than the fact that they’re on public property. He pulls harder on Louis’ hair at the same time as he thrusts up into Louis’ mouth, head hitting the back of his throat with each sharp movement of his hips.
At this moment of time, Harry can’t even control the moans and grunts and loud bursts of “fuck!” anymore. He doesn’t know whether it’s the weed that’s making him so desperate or if he’s generally always this desperate for Louis always.
Whatever though, right? Whichever one is true doesn’t matter, especially not now.
Louis looks up at Harry with flushed cheeks, swollen red lips, and watery eyes. He blinks once, and when one tear leaves his left eye, he begins to blink his eyes rapidly five times and in the end, there are crazy amounts of tears falling down his cheeks.
He pulls off of Harry’s cock with a loud pop, and a long strong of saliva follows his lips. It breaks though, when he opens his mouth and demands for Harry to fuck his mouth.
Overwhelmed, Harry hauls Louis up until their lips are in line with each other and kisses him heatedly. It’s not even much of a kiss, more of a teeth clashing, tongue battling, lip biting, collision of the mouths-type-of-thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Alas, good things end to allow other good things to bloom, or flourish, or cum. So when Louis pulls away and quickly moves down, back to the previous position he was in; between Harry’s knees with his cock in his mouth and his ass in the air.
Harry’s quick to grab a handful of Louis’ hair and fuck up into his throat, moaning shamelessly. The hand Louis’ got resting on his bare thigh is warm and heavy, comforting almost, which is a weird feeling to have when receiving oral in the middle of an abandoned skate park he vandalized.
Heat starts to spread in his gut, and it’s a feeling he can’t ignore, especially with the way Louis’ humming around his cock while palming his balls, something Harry’s never been afraid to admit turns him on a lot.
Louis’ mouth moves down to lick a stripe across both his balls, and Harry’s back arches up, mouth opening loudly in a silent shout of pleasure. Louis stays down there long enough for Harry to actually want to cry, and he feels his orgasm approaching faster each time.
Sensing the fast pace at which his orgasm is hurdling towards him, Louis quickly moves back to Harry’s cock. He’s got one hand pressed against Harry’s lower abdomen and the other still playing around with his balls.
.
The heat grows larger, and hotter, and Harry can’t find the strength to lift his hand to grip Louis’ hair and fuck his throat like he had been before. His limbs feel weak and with every breath he takes, his lungs feel as if they might explode.
When Harry eventually comes, it’s with a loud moan of Louis’ name that can probably be heard two streets down from here. It’s with the words “I love you” spluttered out through harsh breaths, a frantically beating heart, and too many explosions happening behind closed eyelids.
Louis doesn’t pull off until the last spurt of cum leaves his cock, and when he swallows everything down his throat, the look of his disgust is priceless. Harry even went through the effort of forcing himself up onto wobbly elbows to witness that specific facial expression Louis always makes when he’s got to swallow Harry’s cum.
Rolling his eyes at the sound of Harry giggling, Louis moves to pull Harry’s underwear, and jeans, up again. He even pulls the zip up and buttons his jeans at the top, before crawling onto Harry’s limp body and straddling him again.
“Hey there.” Harry greets, voice hoarse and slightly scratchy as if he’s the one who’s just gotten his throat fucked. Louis presses their chests together and shoots him a sweet smile that is accompanied by a chaste kiss.
When Louis pulls away, his lips are shiny and red. He grins when Harry says; “You’re a very risqué angel.”
“I am aren’t I?” He questions playfully, voice hoarse and gravelly. He rests his hands on Harry’s stomach once he’s sat up straight and let’s out this beautiful, shameless laugh that has him tipping his head back.
Amused, Harry’s eyes then flicker down to the wet patch at the front of Louis’ black jeans, before bringing his gaze up only to find Louis looking at him, eyes bright and smile still wide.
“I’d get you off but... it looks like you’ve already sorted yourself out.”
Louis shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes. “You’re quite hot mate.”
Fighting the urge to blush, Harry snorts. “Don’t call me mate.” He tells him, “You’ve just sucked my dick.”
Louis surges down and kisses him again with lips that are moist and slightly puffy. Harry can still taste himself in Louis’ mouth, which is something he mumbles into Louis’ mouth, hand slipping to cup his arse. Delighted, Louis whines softly in the back of his throat and kisses him harder, and rougher, which elicits a grunt from Harry.
“Home.” Is all Harry says when they pull away from each other to breathe. Louis buries his head in the space between Harry’s jaw and shoulder. “I’ll wash your hair and we can watch a movie.”
“I feel bright.” Louis slurs. When he’s coming down, everything he does becomes slow. He runs his fingers through Harry’s wet hair and sighs.
“You are.” Harry assures him. “But let’s go home, yeah?”
Silently, Harry stands up, lifting a pliant Louis onto his feet with practiced ease. Louis hangs onto Harry and doesn’t let go until he’s kissed his cheek. “My strong boy.” He purrs softly, grinning lazily and proudly, as he watches Harry move to go pick up some of the spray cans lying around and put them in his backpack.
There’s a bag of unfinished weed in Louis’ hand when Harry looks at him, and he’s wearing his beanie again. He shoves the weed into his pockets and chews on his bottom lip as he waits for Harry to finish tying his shoelaces and stand up straight.
“You ready?”
The space between them is too big and Harry can’t stand it. With a knowing smirk and droopy eyes, Louis walks to him and presses his warm lips to Harry’s clothed shoulder. He shivers when Harry wraps his arms around him.
“For anything.”
*
When they’d gotten back home, they had immediately begun to stumble towards the showers, a trail of clothes following behind them. Louis hadn’t let go of his hand.
By now, Harry’s got no idea how long they’ve been standing underneath the tap. All he knows is that the water’s beginning to get colder than before and Louis’ shivering slightly, top set of teeth latched onto his bottom lip.
“It’s Zee’s birthday tomorrow.” Harry murmurs, massaging his fingers against Louis’ scalp.
Before replying, Louis lets out a soft mewl when Harry tugs at his shampooed locks a little. He leans his head further back on Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh yeah.” He agrees, taking a deep breathe of air in and relaxing his body even further against Harry’s. “Fuck, what should we get him?”
“How ab-“
“I was thinking of getting him a dildo.”
Harry surprises himself when he ends up shouting “You didn’t even let me reply!” at Louis, who just lifts his shoulders and laughs gleefully. Since he’s back is flush against Harry’s chest, the sound vibrates in Harry’s chest and causes his body to shake with Louis’ as well.
“I knew it’d be something stupid.” Louis sassily replies, and through the foggy reflection of them in the glass door of the shower, Harry can see the smile on his face that he’s trying to hold back.
The smile disappears very quickly after that when Harry smacks him on his arse, hard and too quickly for Louis to have tried to escape. A loud gasp echoes through out the bathroom and the spot where Harry smacked is now bright red, framing the handprint of his hand.
Louis turns back with his mouth already opened and a scowl on his face, but Harry shuts him up quickly by laughing loudly.
“Fuck you.”
An awkward silence settles among them, and Harry knows, by the tense shoulders and shallow breathing, that Louis’ either angry or worried that Harry meant what he said.
Which is partially true but only because Louis drives him inside sometimes. His mum used to tell him that was the whole and best part of being in love- being able to drive each other mad with too many emotions all the time.
“I don’t think Pez will be the happiest person ever when she see’s that we’ve bought her boyfriend a dildo with the discount she gave us herself.” Harry finds himself saying, the hands he’d removed from Louis’ hair now creeping around his waist to lock against his stomach, to break the uncomfortable silence.
Louis’ answer is quick. “How about a strap on then?” he asks, voice quieter than before.
Harry kisses his shoulder and snorts against it. “Turn around love.” He tells him.
Without making a fuss, Louis does as told. Once he’s facing Harry, he lifts his eyes so that their gazes meet and smiles when Harry shoots him a quick wink.
Christ, Louis is so pretty. His shoulders are slumped and his collarbones look even more pronounced with the little puddles of warm water gathering inside of them. He looks wonderful. And he looks tired. Harry can’t breathe.
“Are you even fucking listening to me?” Louis asks too loudly, leaning into Harry’s touch when he begins to wash his hair again.
There’s an ache in his chest that feels heavier and more demanding-to-be-felt than it usually is. Harry tries to take a deep breathe in but his lungs feel tight. Being in love is so fucking weird.
“Course not sweetheart.” Harry says, even though he hasn’t. He smiles when Louis rests his forehead against his. “I still don’t think it’s the greatest idea though. I mean, does Pez look like the type of girl who’d be into fucking her boyfriend with a dildo?”
Louis huffs and nips at the skin on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s not like she’s ever tried it.” He argues, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pulling him a little closer.
“Yeah?” Harry chortles. “And what, you have?”
“No.”
“Exactly! Why are you so persistent on buying the guy a fucking strap on? Has he ever told you he’s ever wanted to be fucked in the arse? Honestly Lou, just because you two are friends and you like it up the arse doesn’t mean he does. Pretty sure he’s thought of vagina since he came out of one.”
The groan the emits from Louis’ mouth is one of pure embarrassment and brings his head back up, not bothering to wipe the shampoo dripping down the sides of his face away. “Can we not talk about vaginas? Ew.”
“Vaginas aren’t that weird Lou,” Harry tells him, laughing. “They’re weird to look at though.”
“You’re bisexual.” Louis deadpans, averting his gaze and looking down at his feet.
Sensing his discomfort, Harry moves to press a kiss onto Louis’ earlobe. “I like dick more.” He says, assuring him. He hooks his finger under his chin and forces him to look at him. “Yours more than anything.”
Louis smacks his hand away and the frown on his face deepens. His eyes are still electric and his cheeks are flushed, along with his chest and shoulders.
“And?” he questions, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing. “You don’t care. It’s never mattered to you.” He says almost hysterically, eyes big and still hazy from the high still in him.
Silently, Harry moves him so that he’s standing right below the shower tap. Louis shuts his eyes, holds his breath and parts his lips. It’s amazing how much they trust each other.
Once all the shampoo is washed out of his hair, Louis moves from underneath the shower tap and finds himself wrapped in Harry’s arms, pressed against his chest. He takes a sharp intake of oxygen and doesn’t open his eyes. He keeps his lips parted and brushes them against Harry’s shoulder bones.
“Y’know, when first started dating I was always so scared you’d leave me for like … a fucking girl, or something.” Louis’ never said something like this to him before, and it sort of hurts- stings a bit in places Harry can’t name. But it’s almost as if he’s been itching to admit that for a while, soberly for once, because there have been times he’s said something similar to Harry. They had both always been drunk though and instead of talking about it like the mature adults they were trying to be, they’d opted on just fucking it out of each other.
There’s a pause and Louis just breathes. He wraps his arms tighter around Harry’s waist and just continues to breathe softly, mouth still parted, eyes still closed.
“And like, fuck.” He blurts out; continuing like Harry had been waiting for him to. “I know how dumb and rude and fucked up that thought it. I know, trust me. But I still get scared sometimes Haz. Is that dumb? I’m sorry.”
“Louis-“
There’s no humour in the laugh Louis lets out, and when Harry holds Louis’ face in between his hands to lift his head up so that they’re facing each other, he wipes the water away from his eyes so that he can open his eyes.
“Ugh, I’m dumb. Ignore me.” Louis says quickly when his eyes open. “It’s not important. I’m being an insecure baby again.” Another humourless laugh leaves his moist lips and he shakes his head. “To be honest I’ve got no idea why I’m even telling you this. I’m still high, that might it.”
To stop him from rambling even more, Harry kisses him hard and tightens his grip on Louis’ hips. He only tugs him closer when he kisses back.
After a few minutes, Harry’s got to pull away to breathe.
Also to say; “You’re such a fucking idiot.” To Louis, which makes him chuckle in agreement. “Am I not still here? Honestly, it’s been five fucking years Louis and I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon as well, so stop making scenarios up in your head of complete bullshit.”
They’ve loved each other for a long time. Know each other too well; have memorized each other’s bodies and souls and hearts and minds. Louis peppers kisses all along Harry’s jaw and chin and mumbles out a faint
“Okay”
That is filled with honesty and love. That is followed by a “still here” to which Harry blushes at and proceeds in presses his fingers into the dimples on Louis’ lower back.
“I love you so much.”
“I know.”
“Oh really?” Louis asks, quirking one eyebrow up and moving his head back when Harry tries to kiss him again. The smile on his face is large enough to possibly split his face in half and there’s pure happiness pouring out of every one of the pores of his body.
Harry knows he’s probably said this but holy shit. Louis brightens up the entire galaxy just by existing and that’s crazy, god-like even.
“Lou, can I fuck you?”
Louis’ face twists instantly and he raises both eyebrows in utter confusion. “Wow, what a way to ruin a moment.” He tells Harry, laughing lowly. He pats Harry’s cheek condescendingly and juts his bottom lip out, mimicking the pout on Harry’s face.
“But no, you’re not going to fuck me.” He says, eyes lighting up as disappointment washes over Harry. “I want to sleep properly tonight, without a sore arse.”
Harry’s never been known to back down without a fight. Well he has. He’s backed down without a fight many times in his cowardly life actually, but never when it came to sex with Louis.
So he’s hardly surprised with his blatant shameless when he starts to beg.
“Please Lou? C’mon! I’ll make it good and quick. I’ll even make some really ace breakfast tomorrow morning!”
Rolling his eyes, Louis grits out “Harry” through clenched teeth.
Fuck yeah! Harry grins because he knows he’s won and flicks his wet curls that were stuck to his face back. Louis grunts cringes when he’s hit with the ends of Harry’s long hair. He doesn’t complain though.
“We both know you want me to fuck you.” He sings, bringing his face closer to Louis’ and giving him a cheeky grin. “I’ll suck you off and after I’ve fucked you really good, we can take a proper shower, get dressed, and mourn about the water bill.”
“And the electricity bill.” Louis chirps in, making Harry laugh.
“Yeah, maybe shed a few tears too.”
Louis says nothing, doesn’t even push Harry away when he cups his arse. He just sighs and leans closer, presses himself even more against Harry.
Harry throws one hand up in victory and pulls Louis in for a passionate kiss that doesn’t last very long before he’s dropping to his knees.
*
Harry grins when Louis comes all over his face. He lifts his gaze up and watches Louis watch him through matted eyelashes and vivid green eyes.
“Yass!” he exclaims as he’s pulled up by Louis and kissed desperately. He laughs into Louis’ mouth before acting quickly and pressing him harshly against the steamed glass doors, eliciting a really fucking sexy mixture between a moan and gasp from his mouth.
Louis grips onto Harry’s broad shoulders and pants heavily against Harry’s mouth when he inches his mouth away slightly. “You’re awful.” He tells him before diving right back into another desperate kiss.
Their touches are bruising. Harry forces Louis’ head back and begins to suck love bites all over his neck, making him moan softly. He’s pliant when Harry lifts him up with his hands under his arse. Instead of saying something, he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and threads his fingers through Harry’s hair.
Laughing, Harry detaches his mouth from Louis’ neck quickly. He says, “yass bitch!” before bursting into another fit of giggles.
Louis lifts his head up and slaps him across the face lightly. There’s a cute pout on is face that Harry wants to kiss away. “I’m too horny for your dumb personality.”
Harry loves him! Has he mentioned how much yet? Harry’s loved him for so long. Fuck, it’s been so long and he’s not tired- doesn’t think he’ll ever be, which is good considering the painfully obvious fact that he’s going to spend the rest of his life loving Louis.
Harry loves him! A lot! Forever! Sometimes he struggles to believe that he actually fell in love with Louis- one of the cockiest bastards known to earth. Sometimes he scolds himself for being so dumb. What can he do now though? They’re sworn together until the end of time. He can’t turn back time- that’s impossible, and he doesn’t want to.
Harry’s going to love this boy radically until death decides to break their hearts.
*
“I was promised movies.” Louis silently demands, tying his still wet hair into a little ponytail. “And I don’t like broken promises.” He continues, looking down at his nails and pursing his lips.
The urge to tell Louis that he’s a bitch is an urge too big to swallow and as difficult as it is, Harry manages. He’s brave but not that brave.
They’re sitting in the makeshift living room in their shitty apartment. Harry’s in between Louis’ open legs, back pressed against his chest, and his hair’s been tied into a bun. He’s stopped wondering when they’re actually going to trim their hair.
Anyways, Pussy’s resting her head on his thigh and staring at him with big curious hazel eyes. She’s a very pretty cat. Harry loves her a lot. He smiles at her the same Louis winces loudly, tilting his body to the left. Harry’s body tilts with his and the couch creaks underneath their body weight and abrupt movement.
“Ah fuck.” Louis hisses out, easing his body back down so that he’s sitting flat on the couch. The smirk on Harry’s face is smug and something he couldn’t help. He’s always been awful at hiding his emotions. When Louis catches him smirking, he groans in annoyance.
“You’re a bag of shit.”
Unfazed, Harry continues to stroke Pussy’s fur. It’s only when Louis locks an arm around his neck and tightens his grip in some insane attempt at strangling him that he begins to speak.
“Stop it you absolute idiot! Fuck off, jail isn’t nice for boys who look like you so quit it.”
Louis drops his arm and tilts his head back to laugh. He watches Harry through half-lidded eyes when he stands up to choose a move. It’s his week of choosing and like always, he picks Spring Breakers.
“You always pick this fucking move Hazza.” Louis complains, twisting his face and slamming his clenched fist onto the couch like a baby.
Situating himself back in between Louis’ thighs, Harry huffs and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
Unsurprisingly, Louis doesn’t reply. He just relaxes into the couch and keeps his gaze on the crap TV they got from a garage sale in Liverpool a couple of years ago. All the lights have been turned off by Harry and the only source of light they’ve got is from the sky, which is pitch black and starless, so really they’ve got no source of light other than the city lights creeping in through the windows.
Funnily enough, Louis laces their fingers together despite Harry being the bag of shit he claims him to be. When Selena Gomez’s character leaves, he says; “I liked her the most out of all of them.” He even sings along with Harry during that really weird scene when James Franco is playing Britney Spears on the piano as Vanessa Hudgens, Ashley Benson and some random pink-haired-girl dance around him holding guns, pointed to the sky, and pink balaclavas with unicorns stitched onto them.
*
It’s ten in the morning when Harry walks to the kitchen to find Niall sitting comfortably on the couch watching TV, uninvited like all the other times Harry’s found him in this exact position.
“You should learn to lock your front door.” Niall tells him, not even bothering to look back and greet him. “You live in one the dodgiest neighbourhoods in all of London mate.”
Harry’s searching for the packet of nuts he’d been so damn excited to eat last night when he’d remembered they were still there. Absentmindedly, he says; “Yeah, trust me, I know.” Before going on to add, “I mean, are you not my fucking next door neighbour?”
Whatever self-control Harry had thought he’d had was a figment of his imagination.
“Exactly.” Niall replies. Harry finds himself turning around at the sound of a packet opening and his heart drops when he see’s Niall pop an almond into his mouth. “I could’ve been anyone.”
“Think I would’ve preferred that.”
Ignoring his bitter words, Niall chuckles and eat another almond. It’s ten in the morning. Harry can’t deal with Niall’s bullshit to early on a Sunday.
“Where’s Boo?”
“Sleeping.” Harry grumbles, pouring himself a bowl of Bran Flakes. He drags his feet to the fridge and takes out a bottle of Oat Drink. As he opens it, he asks; “what time did you get here?”
Niall hums and takes a moment to think. “Eight.” He finally says. “Somewhere around then, I forgot.”
Harry finds himself laughing before he can help it. “So you’re telling me you’ve just been chilling in my apartment for two hours? Go home. You’re such a fucking freak.” Harry says before shaking his head and watching the oat drink spill into the fine china bowls Jay got him for his birthday last year. “I could report you to the police.”
Snorting, Niall says “but you won’t.”
“Why are you here?”
“Barbie and I got into another fight.”
Fishing a spoon from the drawer, Harry turns around and moves to lean back against the fridge. He shoves a spoon of Bran Flakes into his mouth and finds the decency to ask why even though he gives zero fucks. He also adds in a little eye roll for extra emphasis on his frustration.
Niall doesn’t see this though because his gaze is trained on the TV.
Harry wants to kill him. He’s so annoying, shit. Harry’s got to chomp harder on his cereal in order to stop from throwing this bowl at the back of Niall’s head and watching it shatter against his thick skull.
The thought is gruesome-morbid even- and he knows Niall’s one of his best friend, but sometimes it’s so hard not to want to strangle him.
“She wants to get married?”
Harry chokes on the last spoon of cereal he’d just begun swallowing and covers his mouth with his hand before dropping the weight of his upper body onto the cold marble counters in front of him.
There’s a brief moment of silence that falls upon them and in this time, Harry takes a huge gulp of air, but only after he’s swallowed the cereal he’d chocked on.
It’s only when Niall gives him this crooked, awkward, smile and shrugs his shoulders that Harry starts to laugh- loud and obnoxiously. His shoulders move up and down with each boisterous burst of laughter that leaves his open mouth and his hand comes to rest against his tense stomach, eyes narrowing due to the width of the smile on his face.
It doesn’t take long for Niall to burst into a fit of disbelieving laughter too, and when he does, his cheeks brighten up even more as well as his eyes. Normally, when Niall laughs, the entire world shakes with it. Today isn’t one of those days though.
Which is okay. It looks like it’s been a whole since he’s laughed so genuinely and Harry’s heart aches a little bit at the thought of the world unloading more baggage for Niall’s bony shoulders to break underneath even more.
It’s easy to forget that there are other people in the world who are struggling to survive too. Harry wants to be somebody bigger and better and more than who is now. The world is so big. A while ago, Louis told him that whoever he wanted to be is who he could be if he tried a little harder, hoped a little more, and ever since then Harry’s refused to let himself believe that he’s not worthy of the life he’s been given.
Niall’s got eyes that people could drown in and Harry knows they’ll make something so much more of themselves one day. This isn’t it- it can’t be.
“Married at the age of twenty-one.” Niall speaks up, laughter fading slowly but still evident in the tone of his voice. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and sighs. Somehow, in between the little episode of laughter that’s just occurred between them, Niall’s managed to come and stand beside Harry with his head on his shoulder.
Tom and Jerry is playing on the telly and outside, on the street, a car gets it’s horn beeped too loudly for too long.
This seems to wake Niall up. “We live in a shitty apartment.” He blurts out suddenly, eyes still trained on the telly. “And we barely have enough money to keep us both alive. Where the fuck did she even find the time to think of marriage?”
Wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulders, Harry then quickly presses a quick kiss to the top of Niall’s head and pulls away only when he can feels the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.
“What are you smiling at?” Niall questions, moving so that he’s facing Harry with creased eyebrows and his arms crossed over his shoulder.
“I think you should do it.”
Niall’s face falls the second those six words leave Harry’s lips and he splutters out the question; “Excuse me?”
Tearing his gaze away from Niall’s, Harry moves to place his sink in the bowl and once he gets back to where he’d been standing before, opposite Niall, he also crosses his arms over his chest.
“You love her?”
“So much.”
“Then what’s stopping you? Think of how great of a fucking story it’d be in the future, when you’re older and richer and growing grey hairs from the stress of having to raise children with a wife like Barbs. It’d be like this super epic love story about how you two never gave up on each other, even when it got a little hard to breath sometimes. Do it now mate, life sucks- might as well try and make the best of it”
“We’re going to make it somehow.” Niall tells him with eyes brighter than the fucking sun, and Harry nods his head firmly.
When Niall stop speaking, too far and deep in his thoughts to try converse with anyone, Harry gives him the space needed.
“How am I going to afford a ring?” Niall asks, gaze move back to catch Harry’s. He’s playing with his fingers, pulling at his knuckles and digging his fingers into his wrist.
“She’ll understand Niall. She has to.”
Just as Niall’s about to reply, Harry feels a pair of arms snake around his waist and he jumps slightly, mouth falling open in shock.
It takes the familiar waft of partially clean laundry, cigarettes, and home, for Harry’s heart to calm down. He lets out a deep breathe of air and laughs, subconsciously leaning further back into Louis’ touch.
Niall’s smiling, and there’s a little glint in his eye as his gaze flickers between the two of them.
“Did he sneak in again?” Louis whispers too loudly, mouth pressed right against the lobe of Harry’s ears.
The smile that had previously pulled at Niall’s pink lips is quickly replaced by a very deep (and quite cute) frown.
“You’re front door wasn’t even fucking locked mate, so technically didn’t sneak in.” He spits out, cheeks reddening in preparation for the rant bubbling in his chest. “And…”
The minute Niall starts again, Harry zones out and sighs. He wraps his hands around Louis’ waist, who’s behind him, and doesn’t tear his eyes away from Niall’s mouth.
“I think we should give him a spare key.”
Louis laughs breathlessly against his shoulder and nods. “Mm, we should, shouldn’t we?” he questions; smiling when Niall rolls his eyes and finally shuts up. “We should even get some for everyone else.”
Harry’s entire face twists at the thought of having to live with his best friends. He’d go absolutely bat shit crazy is that would have to happen to him. Harry can barely deal with his friends as next-door neighbours.
So he says “Or we could start locking our front door.”
To which Louis lets out a howl of laughter while Niall flips him off, eyes narrowed into slits. “Fucking hate you both.” He mutters as he begins to slowly move to the door.
Louis’ quick to stop him. “Why you going?” He asks, lifting one brow and pursing his lips. He hums silently under his breathe and tells Niall that he’s already here, that he doesn’t want him to leave because “A really, tiny, part of me has missed you.”
The front door swings open and Louis sort of stumbles back at the suddenness of the action made by Niall- the fucking idiot- who’s just standing underneath the doorframe wearing a grin on his face that could re-blind a blind man.
“As tempting as that sounds Lou, I can’t! I’ve got to propose to my girlfriend!”
With a little dance and a laugh that makes Harry grin at the familiarity of it, Niall speeds out of their apartment and shuts the door behind him loudly.
A second passes
Then two seconds pass
And when the tenth second has passed with him and Louis just staring at the spot where Niall had stood moments ago, entire body shaking with adrenaline and love and the reminder that his life is his life to live and nobody else’s.
Everybody deserves happiness. It doesn’t matter what it is or how it’s found or what was done in order to find it.
Harry’s theory is that: If you’re still alive with a heart that has felt too much pain but still beats despite it all, than take that happiness and never fucking let go of it.
And then, with the happiness and bravery you’ve got inside of you, go out into the world and burn.
Please. Harry’s biggest mistake as a teenager was never finding something inside of him worth loving. He learnt to love himself through loving Louis and that’s wrong, he knows it, but he’s here and he’s in love and he’s thankful.
Because, life hurts too much for one person to be surviving with a heart not loved by another person, and since the concept of time was constructed so that it never stopped for anyone, Harry lives his life as recklessly, as honestly and as openly as he can.
Louis breaks the silence when he mutters out a soft and confused “what?”
And Harry, driven by his previous thoughts on finding happiness and living recklessly, spins Louis around without his consent and unexpectedly surges down to kiss Louis on the mouth.
Unfortunately for Harry, whatever scenario he had made up in his head about how Louis would react, all comes to a tragic end when he gets pushed back.
“No!” Louis cries, furrowing his eyebrows and curling his lip in annoyance. He gives Harry a once over before stomping his foot like a baby. “Answer me!”
Rubbing at his chest, Harry can’t help the bitter tone of his voice when he replies to Louis’ unnecessary demands.
“Answer to fucking what Louis? He’s gone to go propose to his girlfriend, there’s nothing to be confused about.”
Wrapping his arms around himself, Louis laughs and shakes his head. “He’s a fucking idiot,” he stammers out, shivering from the cold as well as the fact that he’d rolled out of bed only wearing Harry’s boxers.
There are goose bumps forming on his skin and Harry finds himself stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.
A tremor runs along Louis’ spine at the sudden welcoming of warmth and he lets out a soft sigh against Harry’s shoulder, which only makes him hold him tighter.
“Jesus Christ,” Louis blurts out, laughing again once he’s comfortable. “Married? They’ve only just become legal in America this year.” He says, voice full of awe and disbelief. “What a fucking idiot.”
“He’s in love and turning into a complete shithead is one of the many symptoms.”
Louis laughs and it catches Harry a little off guard. He pulls his head back so that they’re face to face and moves his hands up to hold Harry’s head in between them.
Harry wants to kiss him until they run out of breathe.
“You really do talk a load of shit sometimes.”
“Yeah, shit, sorry about that!” Harry suddenly exclaims. His eyebrows crease in mock regret and sorrow. He tilts his head to the side and says; “I forgot to thank you for teaching me how to perfect the ability of speaking complete and utter shit. I really did learn from the best,” he plasters a smile on his face and rests his hand on Louis’ shoulder, “Thank you.”
Clearly taken back by the drastic change in Harry’s normally very mellow attitude, Louis scoffs. The look he gives Harry could melt icebergs, burn the sun to ash, and terrify the most fearless.
The snappy response Harry had been expecting from Louis is quickly thrown out the window when he’s reminded, by a huge blob of orange juice being flung directly towards his face, that to expect the unexpected from a soul as reckless as Louis’ is an idiotic expectation to hope for.
The gasp that Harry lets out leaves him breathless in a bad way that isn’t as nice as the type of breathlessness he feels after he’s kissed Louis for a long time.
“Oh fuck!” Louis howls, suddenly, and too loudly. “I’m so sorry Hazza! Oh my god.” He says in a tone that holds no genuine source of guilt at all.
A cloth is held to his eyes and Harry’s blood is too hot for him to have the tolerance to deal with bullshit from anyone, especially Louis. So he takes his hand and grabs Louis’, squeezing it harshly and pushing it away from him.
The words “I hate you” are said by Harry the minute his eyes are open, eyelashes stuck together because of the orange juice drying on his face despite the attempt he’d gone through with trying to wipe it off.
Whatever Louis tries to say isn’t said because Harry shuts him up by slamming his fist on the counter. “You are such a fucking piece of shit!” he shouts, cheeks heating up and chest move fast. The way Louis smirks at him makes Harry think of a scorching fire that just won’t burn out, no matter how many attempts are used to get it to stop burning everything to ash.
Harry’s just a boy made of water. And even though water is beautiful and clear and honest and calm, it is also vicious and ruthless. People forget that the same ocean they dip their feet into and take their families out to see, is the same ocean that could one day rise back up to where it once had been and flood the entire world without a doubt in it’s mind for who it’s hurting.
“I just do what you’ve taught me.” Louis replies, eyes narrow and gaze challenging. He knows what he’s doing- knows how quick Harry gets angry. His eyes flicker down to the orange juice drying on Harry’s skin and as he lifts his gaze up to look at Harry in the eyes again, he says; “I was clearly taught by the best.”
The way Harry slams him up against the fridge door has them both grunting loudly, and even though it clearly hurt, Louis lets out this boisterous bark of laughter that creates riffles through the air around them.
The orange juice falls from his hands when he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and it pours out the bottle to puddle around Harry’s shoeless feet.
“I can’t fucking believe you sometimes.” Harry tells him harshly, eyes closed shut and hand wrapped around the base of Louis’ neck. “You infuriate me.”
Breathing hard, Louis tries to shove Harry off him but the other boy is way stronger for him, so he just huffs and relaxes his body. When Harry looks at him, vision blurry from frustrated tears that aren’t unusual to witness for the two of them. They get a bit overwhelming for each other sometimes and fuck,
Louis tells him that he wants to be put down and Harry does so immediately, angry and upset and disappointed that there had been no apology. And he knows how stupid it sounds, but Louis can be so inconsiderate sometimes and Harry’s still so much younger than him- his heart still gets hurt at things Louis’ heart has lived through and gotten over.
(They’ve loved each other for five years now.)
They glare at each other for what seems to be like the longest time ever. Louis only blinks after they’ve heard Eleanor shout something outside their door. He steps back to the immediate sound of Danielle laughing and turns around abruptly, arms wrapping around his lower stomach as he drags his feet to the bedroom, leaving a trail of orange juice behind him.
Now, Harry supposes this would be the best time to mention that Louis and him are the very proud owners of an overly fluffy Persian cat named Pussy, whom they rescued about two years ago.
They haven’t cut her hair since they got her when she was a kitten, and if Harry didn’t raise her, he’d mistake her for a ball of fluff all the time. Despite her out of control, constantly shedding, hair, she’s drop-dead gorgeous- calm and elegant too.
She climbs onto his lap and gets confortable, head tilted up at him. Her eyes are the colour of rusty copper. They’re big and shiny and Harry loves her a lot. He knows she loves him too, way more than Louis.
“Hello love.”
Pussy meows loudly and presses her face against Harry’s chest.
“Your papa’s an arse.” He tells her, smiling, as his fingers thread through her knotty fur. Christ, it’s Louis’ turn to comb her hair. He’d remind Louis if he hadn’t just decided to ignore him forever. Pussy purrs at him and pulls her head back, tongue pushed out through her lips slightly. He sighs. “I love him though,” he whines, “unfortunately.” And the way she bats her big eyes at him has him feeling like the stupidest human being on earth. She tilts her head to the side after he’s said; “D’you think he’ll apologize?”
She narrows her eyes at him and rests her head back onto his chest, meowing softly and letting out a large breathe of air the same time Harry does as well.
Of course Louis’ going to make him clean up this mess that he created. It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.
*
It takes an hour and thirty minutes for Harry to clean the entire goddamn kitchen.
He’s washing the dishes when Louis saunters into the kitchen. He smells like Harry’s body wash and he’s wearing impossibly tight skinny jeans, which he’s rolled around the ankles, a long sleeved mesh black top with a black vest underneath, a heavy black bomber jacket and an ancient pair of black vans he’s had since they got to London with no socks.
Harry glances at him over his shoulder, glass in his hand, and eyes him. “You look like you’re going to join a cult.”
Louis smirks. “All hail Satan.”
Harry snorts rudely and goes back to washing the glass in his hand. There’s a slight ache in his heart because he knows that Louis’ frowning, can sense it even without looking at him, and he hates it when Louis’ upset.
Fuck that though because he’s got enough self-control not to forgive him.
(He’s lying.)
A full three minutes of silence passes by. Harry’s rinsing off the last dish and he turns around to the sight of Louis jogging to where Pussy is seated on the kitchen counter. He coos loudly and picks her up suddenly to press her to his chest.
“Pussy,” he sings, “my lil’ pussy.”
The look on her face is hilarious and Harry lets out a belly laugh as he starts to put the plates and cutlery where they belong.
Louis says; “Pussy, is Hazza ever going to forgive me for fucking up again?” just as Harry’s finished putting away the cutlery. He watches Harry wipe his hands silently with the cloth he wiped the dishes with and winces only a little at Harry’s reply.
“Again.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice softer now. Pussy meows in misery. “I know. Again.”
Harry sighs and closes his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He opens his eyes shortly afterwards and almost cries out in frustration because how the fuck is he meant to ignore Louis forever when he’s standing in front of him, nuzzling his nose into the fur of a very distressed cat while looking like everything he’s ever wanted?
Unaware of his gaze, Louis rolls his eyes at Pussy and puts her down on the counter. “Okay, thanks for not helping me at all.” He mutters as she scampers off to the couch where she buries her body underneath the stacks of blankets they left there last night.
At the sound of Harry’s laugh, Louis looks up. His mouth twitches into a smile and he lets out an awkward cough, arm stretching up to scratch the back off his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“You always are Lou.”
Taking a step closer, Louis starts to ramble. “B-but this time I promise you that the next time I inevitably fuck up, I’ll clean up whatever mess I make.” And when he gets no answer, he grunts loudly and stomps his foot down on the floor, taking another step closer. “Hazza!”
Sometimes, Harry hates him so damn much. Like, honestly, let’s be real here. Louis is the most infuriating person on this earth; he’s so fucking annoying. Harry’s in awe of how he’s managed to fall so hard for him that’s he’s still here five years later.
“Louis.” Harry breathes out, fingers running through his own hair. There’s a sufficient amount of hazy grey light seeping in through the window and it lights up the room in a way that makes him feel a little breathless with nostalgia. Outside, on the streets, someone shouts unnecessarily and the sound of a car driving over a rain puddle throws him out of his thoughts. So, once he’s focused properly, he goes “I can’t do this alone.”
“You’re not.”
“Don’t talk back Louis, fuck. We’re in this together. It’s hard and we need to help each other out babe, please. You can’t just laze around the apartment while I clean it all by myself. DO you know how tiring it is cleaning after you?”
There’s a beat of silence. Louis says nothing so Harry finishes off what he had been saying before. He sighs first and then says; “I need you to help me sweetheart. I can’t do this alone.”
Louis drops his gaze to the floor and chews on his bottom lip while fiddling with the plasters around his fingers. And fuck, Harry hates seeing him anxious- hates knowing it’s because of him. Dealing with Louis is like dealing with a six-year-old child though, and it gets tiring having to repeat the same thing over and over again.
“I understand,” he mumbles, “Uh, I’m sorry. Again.”
Without even realizing it, Harry’s walking to Louis and pulling his chin up for a long, slow, and sweet kiss.
The response is instant and soon Louis’ hands are gripping at Harry’s top, whose hands are cupping his face between them.
“Sorry for being an arse.” Harry says against Louis’ wet lips.
Louis tips his head back and laughs jubilantly. Harry gets dizzy with the sound. “No,” Louis sings out, opening his eyes. “I was the arse.” He tells him, taking a deep breathe of air. “And I’m sorry and I love you so much.”
“I know.” Harry replies as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind Louis’ ear. “I love you a lot.”
“And I’m sorry I’m such hard work.”
“I’m still here.” Harry reminds him before they’re kissing again.
Which is, okay. As Harry’s arms slither around Louis’ neck to pull him closer, Louis’ hands drop down to cup Harry’s arse cheeks, and when his mouth falls open in shock, Louis seizes the opportunity by sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth, eliciting a dirty groan from the both of them.
Harry hopes they love each other like this forever. The idea of growing older with Louis sounds like the greatest adventure in the world. Fuck. He wants to see them as bitter grandparents living in the city they’d found themselves in when they had been young. He wants to see Louis at forty years old and Louis at sixty-eight years old and Louis eighty years old. There’s still an entire world out there for Harry to see and he wants to see it all with Louis.
Does that make him stupid? For somebody whose had to survive through so much shit, Harry things he’s pretty brave for have fallen in love with Louis. Too many people have gone even when he hadn’t wanted them. He was only seven years old when his father left home. All he left behind was a broken home and two children, one of which waited eight years for him to come back home.
It took him eight fucking years to stop fucking wait for the return of a fucking man who stopped being his father the moment he fucked off from Harry’s life and he is still so goddamn angry. Still so upset. Still so confused.
Still so ...
Fuck. It doesn’t matter anymore, not as much as it did when he was fourteen-years-old with a heart so bitter he couldn’t breathe sometimes.
Too many things have happened to him and he is still here. There’s still air in his lungs. There’s still blood beating out and in through his heart. His wrists are scarred with memories Harry doesn’t want to ignore- doesn’t want to forget. Can’t forget.
During the seventeenth year of his life, Harry fell in love with a wild boy whose eyes were bluer than anything he’d ever gotten the chance to see.
Louis saw him and loved him despite all the mistakes he’s made- loved him as if the flaws he has were never flaws at all.
How is Harry ever supposed to fall out of love with the only fucking person who has ever loved him for all he was and not for whom they’d wanted him to be?
They touch and-
How is-
The doorbell rings. Louis kisses him harder, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
His golden boy, his burning ball of light- they’re going to love each other till the end of the world graces itself upon them. The shrill sound of the doorbell being rung again is not even loud enough to drown out the sound of their hearts beating to loudly in their chests. His golden boy, his wildfire- they’re going to make something better out of this (whatever this is).
The third time the doorbell rings, Louis pulls away and laughs too loudly. His head falls back and Harry fights a war he looses when he leans forward to attach his mouth to the base of his neck.
Louis closes his eyes and let’s out a whimper that leaves Harry feeling light-headed. “The door,” he says, breathless with the way Harry’s kissing his jaw, fingers drawing circles where they’re resting on the dip of his back. “I have to get it.” He tells him again, hands pressing against Harry’s chest. “Fuck.”
With a sore heart and tented pants, Harry feels Louis pull away from him and frowns like a child as he watches Louis make his way towards the door to see who so desperately wants to see them at this moment that they haven’t stopped ringing the doorbell since they begun ringing it.
Dramatically (and carelessly, they’re not rich enough to buy a new fucking door), Louis literally swings the door open and barely flinches when it bangs against the wall behind it.
Leaning against the frame of the door, looking as beautifully rugged as ever, is Eleanor Calder- in the flesh and blood. She’s dressed in a long sleeved, baby blue crop top and baggy black jeans that hang low on her bony hips.
At the sound of the ‘bang!’ she looks up from her nails and smiles. For someone who lacks a soul, she’s ethereally beautiful. Seeing her only makes Harry want to cry even more.
Gesturing to the half-arsed bun sitting atop her head, Louis makes a face Harry can only imagine judging by the snarl on Eleanor’s face, and says; “your head looks alarmingly bigger than usual.”
Without missing a beat, Eleanor rolls her eyes and says, in response; “fuck you.” She then quickly moves forward to plant a wet kiss onto Louis’ mouth and moves back just as quick when she realizes how wet Louis’ lips are already. When her eyes flicker over to Harry, who’s standing in the middle of the room with lips just as swollen and just as wet, she laughs and nods her head once. “Oh great.”
Eleanor wipes her lip-gloss stain off his mouth roughly, not even batting an eyelash when Louis pushes her off him roughly. She eyes him up and down before side stepping into the apartment and walking over to make herself comfortable in the living room.
Danielle and Perrie walk in behind her, wearing cheeky smiles on their faces and wiggling their fingers at both of them as ‘hello.’
Louis looks horrifically unimpressed. “Leave my fucking apartment.”
“You’ve got a boner.” Danielle tells him, turning her head back to glance down at the semi he’s sporting. “Looks sore.”
“So would my arse if you three hadn’t arrived but life is never what you want it to be.”
Danielle cackles and runs to Harry when Louis raises his hand to hit her. Harry holds her, arms wrapping around her waist when she falls into him. She lays her head on his shoulder and shoots Louis a smug smirk that he ignores.
“Anyways. It’s Zayn’s birthday.” Perrie speaks up, eyes glancing between Danielle, Harry and Louis. “Today.” She concludes. Her eyes are fixed on her nails.
Still a little bitter, Harry sighs. “Because we didn’t already know that.” He says sarcastically, eyes trained on hers. “I mean, it’s not like he’s been blowing up all our fucking phones with stupid reminders on that stupid group chat.”
Perrie tilts her head to the side and raises a nicely trimmed eyebrow. There’s a cigarette tucked behind her ear that Harry wouldn’t mind smoking. “You’re useless.” She tells him, straight up, and diverts her eyes away from him quick enough that she doesn’t see the look of shock on his face.
Danielle pats his back, laughing.
“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted by a fucking idiot. I work at a sex-shop, as we all know, ands the girls and I were thinking of getting Zayn a strap-on.”
If Harry was shocked before, he’s blown away now. He glances at Louis and sees that the boy has got the largest grin ever on his face.
“For who?” Louis asks, knowing already.
Perrie flips her pastel pink hair over her shoulder. “For me.” She says as if it’s a totally normal thing for a heterosexual to buy her equally as heterosexual boyfriend a strap on dick for her to use on him on his birthday.
Louis laughs when Harry chokes a little on his spit. He laughs loud enough to startle the whole world. Danielle tucks a loose strand of curly hair behind her ears, eyes stuck on the giddy Louis in front of her clapping his hands like some sort of fucked up seal.
“So?” Danielle questions him, laughing a little as well and looking up at him with dark eyes.
“Yeah,” Eleanor pipes in, “what the fuck?”
Danielle huffs and Eleanor shoots her a fond smile, teeth latched onto her bottom lip. Danielle blushes shamelessly, eyes rolling jokingly.
It comforts Harry that Eleanor’s at least nice to somebody.
However, Eleanor’s smile completely disappears when she tears her gaze off Danielle only for her attention to land on the twenty-three year old humping Harry’s leg disturbingly, like some sort of fucking dog.
Louis is so disappointing. Harry loves him.
“We had a discussion in the shower last night-“
“Before you fucked him or after you fucked him?” Perrie asks him, cutting him off. She lives right next door to them and the walls aren’t sound proof at all- not even a little. It stopped being frustrating a long time ago after everyone got used to hearing the sound of everyone having sex.
It’s funny, actually, how much closer they’ve become.
“Before!” Louis answers, grinning and standing up straight. “Of course, ew.” He twists his face. He looks quite offended that Perrie would’ve ever thought of that. “Of my god, that’d be so awkward.”
“Why?” Eleanor questions out loud.
Ignoring her, Harry tells Louis that, “it’d be awkward either way love.” His tone is soft and his fingers are twitching for the feel of Louis’ skin against his. “Whatever, anyway, so we were conversing on whether or not we should buy him a strap on but I said no because of Pez.”
He never once takes his gaze off Louis’ and he flickers his gaze down to Louis’ mouth to see that he’s smiling faintly- just for them only.
Perrie pops the bubble gum she had been blowing and chews no it obnoxiously, throwing Harry out of his thoughts and making him look at her. “What about me?” she asks rudely with a nasty scowl on her face.
“Just didn’t think you’d be the type of girl who got off to the thought of fucking her boyfriend, y’know?” Harry tells him, not even making an effort of beating around the bush. “Like, not that there’s anything wrong with it but…”
The first person to laugh is Eleanor. It’s loud and boisterous, breaking the silence that had yet to come. Perrie looks amused, there’s a twitch at the corners of her lips.
“It’s meant to be a joke.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip quickly. “I wouldn’t say no though, like if he asked. I’m not against it.”
Louis turns to look at him and snickers loudly at the glare Harry’s giving him. Unfazed, Louis continues to smile smugly and walks over to where Eleanor’s standing to sling an arm over her bony shoulders.
“I’m always right Harold.” He says, “Stop forgetting that.” Eleanor turns her head to the side and buries her face into the crook of his neck, smiling.
Harry ignores the wave of jealousy that passes through his gut and turns back to face Perrie, who’s already looking at him with her arms crossed over her chest. “Okay, since this has been settled.” She starts, “I’m going to go to work and uhm, buy a strap on.”
“”Have you spoken to the others?”
Perrie shrugs. Her lips are coated in dark red lipstick and Harry can see a fading purple love bite on her collarbone, half of it hidden under the baggy stripped jersey she’s wearing. She smiles as she says; “They said it’s chilled. I mean, I didn’t try and get more information from Barbs and Niall because they were having sex-“
“-They always are having fucking sex, Jesus” Louis cuts her off, huffing and puffing loudly, eliciting a light laugh from her mouth. Her eyes glint under the lights and the smile she sends him is soft.
“Yeah, they are. But yeah, the last time I interrupted them Niall threw a used condom at my fucking face so …”
Harry laughs. “They’re getting married.” He blurts out. Louis catches his gaze and grins suddenly. Harry’s hurt swells in his chest as he watches Louis cross the room and snuggle into the crook of his neck, arms slithering around his waist.
Harry loves him. He kisses the top of his head and doesn’t tear his eyes away from the wide grin on Perrie’s face.
“You owe me ten pounds!” She exclaims, pointing a finger at Danielle, who flips her hair back and rolls her eyes even harder then before.
“You’ll only get it when I’m rich and famous.”
Eleanor’s got her arms now wrapped around Danielle’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she lets out a low chortle of laughter. “What the fuck is he thinking?” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “Where the hell is he going to find the money to buy her an engagement ring?”
“They’ll work it out.” Louis and Harry say simultaneously. They glance at each other and smile at each other before turning their gazes back to their friends. They look at each other and smile softly. Louis turns around so that his back is pressed against Harry’s chest.
When Danielle snorts, Eleanor whacks her on the head. “We have to go now.”
Their friends aren’t shameless. They don’t even know the act of feeling shame. Especially when it comes to their sexual lives, so when Danielle pulls Eleanor out the front door, Eleanor doesn’t even try to hide her excitement. Instead, she waves her hands dramatically and says, “I’m going to get my pussy sucked!” too loudly for someone living in a public environment.
Following behind them, Perrie sighs. She looks back to smile at Harry and Louis, eyes flickering between the two of them, and nods her head twice before closing the door. She tends to rarely ever say much, and when she does it’s either too much words or none at all. There’s no in-between with her.
Quickly, Louis runs to lock the door. He turns around and leans down to pick up Pussy, who’s sitting right at his feet. She purrs softly, snuggling up to him, and he looks up to catch Harry’s equally as surprised gaze.
A smirk spreads across his face when he catches Harry’s eyes fall to his lips.
Sometimes Harry looks at Louis and he can’t, like, fucking breath. And he’s aware of how corny and pathetic that sounds, because that’s not physically impossible, but there are moments when he feels as if it’s just him and Louis existing on their own, on this big, big world, and Harry’s heart feels as if it’s collapsed on all his organs.
Like now- now it one of those moments. Harry loves him so much.
“So what happens now?”
“Go take a shower.” Louis tells him, stroking the cat and putting on a very horrid Russian accent. “And then when you’re done we’ll go over to Pez and Zee’s house. I want to be first. I made a bet with Liam to see who’d arrive first because apparently, to him, we’re always late and I want to prove him wrong.”
“We are always late.”
Louis glares at him. “Don’t let them win.”
“But it’s only twelve? His shin-dig literally only begins at six.”
“Giving you six legit hours to get fucking ready! You take such a long time getting dressed.” Louis whines loudly, pouting and huffing. “And, like, I’ll even take a shower with you. I’ll fuck you afterwards? If you want.”
At the suggestion of being fucked, Harry starts to run. He throws his clothes off behind him and Louis laughs loudly. He looks over his shoulder, at Louis who’s trailing after him, grinning, and shouts; “Hurry up you loser!” before raising his arms up into the air and waving them around foolishly. “I’m feeling sexy and free!” he sings, heartbeat increasing at the sound of Louis’ infectious laughter.
Harry loves him.
*
It’s five thirty pm and Zayn isn’t happy to see them.
The first question he asks is directed to Perrie, who’s sitting beside him on the couch. “Why are they here?”
“It’s your birthday.” She answers. “Friends do shit like this.”
Sighing in exhaustion, Zayn nods his head. “I know that,” he deadpans, “but why are they here?”
Out of impulse, Louis jumps straight onto the couch and into Zayn’s lap, legs spread on either side of his hips. He wastes no time in pressing open mouth kisses along his jawline. When he see’s Harry gripping Zayn’s shoulders, his bites get more enthusiastic. Harry then begins to shake him violently, to try and get some sort of reaction from the boy and fuck, it doesn’t take a long time for them to get what they wanted.
Two minutes into his harassment, Zayn shoves Louis off him and in a flash, punches him square on the noise.
The entire room falls silent as Louis hits his against the cold, tiled floors. He groans loudly and moves his hands to cup his bleeding nose. Only then do Harry and Perrie awaken from their shocked state to move quickly and attend to the fucked up situation that just enfolded in front of them. Harry moves to lift Louis to his while Perrie runs to the kitchen so she can wet a cloth.
And Zayn? Well, Zayn just sits there. He looks as proud as he always does and too smug for someone who’s just punched a person like Louis and is expecting nothing in return.
“Happy twenty-second fucking birthday to me!” he sings, patting himself on the back. His eyes are trained on the bruising face of his best friend, who’s grunting and groaning in pain.
The pain though, doesn’t last for very long, because Louis’ quickly shaking Harry’s hands off of him. He turns his body around to look at Zayn and drops his hand to reveal all the blood spilt on it as well as all the blood oozing out of his swelling nose.
It’s all over his mouth and chin. It should look disgusting but it doesn’t. Honestly. Harry thinks the blood actually brings out is eyes in a very lovely way. He says this without the intention of sounding morbid.
“You fucking dick!” Louis screams. His cheeks are hot and eyebrows furrowed together. Currently, he’s the definition of pure and raw rage. It’s really fucking hot.
Zayn crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the couch. “Come at me bro,” he says, jokingly. Harry almost feels bad for him.
Louis sure does bring it to him when he punches him straight on the eye. Zayn’s head snaps back and makes this awful sound. His mouth falls open and he takes a large intake of breath, grunting in the process.
Harry isn’t the slightest bit surprised- he’s actually quite proud of his boy.
Louis then laughs, hissing only a little bit as he shakes his hand, eyes bright.
“There you little bitch.” He spits out, grinning wider when Zayn lifts his head fully. His eye is already swollen and there’s a huge open gash right underneath it. “Happy birthday you sick cunt.”
Zayn smiles at him. Perrie then yanks him off the couch and into the couch, while muttering someone about how idiotic he is under her breath.
They’re both fucking idiots actually- Louis and Zayn. Honestly, what person in their right mind would’ve ever even gotten themselves into such a predicament?
What’s done is done. Harry presses a wet cloth to Louis’ noise and winces when Louis winces because that’s the type of couple they are. When one feels, the other feels too. Once the blood around his mouth, neck and chin has been cleared up as best as he could, Harry takes the ice pack Perrie left for them and hands it to Louis so he can do it himself since he doesn’t want to hurt him even more.
“Thanks.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Harry mutters. He lifts his eyes off of Louis’ mouth and meets his gaze, shaking his head when the other boy smirks. “You’re full of shit Lou. We’ve only been here for fucking ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and you’ve managed to punch the birthday boy.”
Louis presses the ice pack harder onto his noise. He hisses and frowns cutely. “He fucking deserved it.”
“Just like you deserved your fucking nose breaking!” Zayn shouts. Harry and Louis laugh when they hear Perrie scold him for moving.
“You see, baby? He’s a bag of shit. Even on his fucking birthday.”
Harry should admit something. He doesn’t care. He gives absolutely no shits about how much of a shit Louis thinks Zayn is. He’s barely away of anything coming out of Louis’ mouth at this moment because all his attention is focused on Louis’ lips.
And blah, blah, blah- he doesn’t need to hear about how disgusting or unhygienic it would be to kiss someone’s bloody lips. He knows. But he still really wants to kiss Louis and since all he’s ever ran on is pure impulse and a lot of hope, he closes the gap between them by kissing him unexpectedly.
Taken off guard, Louis drops the ice pack he was holding. He kisses him back immediately, slithering his arms around Harry’s neck and elevating himself up onto his toes, just a little.
He tastes like blood and Harry and home. Harry slides his hands into the back pockets of Louis’ jeans and kisses him harder when Louis lets slip a breathless whimper from his lips when Harry squeezes his arse.
Perrie and Zayn go back to where they’d been sitting on the couch. Perrie grunts and Zayn chuckles, lighting the end of what Harry guesses is most probably a joint, judging from the smell that wafts in through his nostrils.
“What if I was watching something important?” Zayn asks them. Settling back against the couch. He exhales loudly. “Gays.”
Perrie bursts into a fit of laughter and If Harry weren’t so caught up in the way Louis’ licking into his mouth, then he’d have heard the front door swing open.
Liam jumps in and screams; “Harry birthday-“ but stops when his eyes fall on the two boys making out heatedly in the middle of the room, right in front of the birthday boy and his girlfriend. “Okay then …| he trails off, coughing into his fist and standing up straight, walking forward slowly. “Is this their birthday present to you or? Cause’, like, if it is then wow. I also want the same for mine.”
Sophia laughs. “Oh my god, this is so hot.”
Louis kisses him harder at the praise and grinds his hips up against Harry’s, smiling a little at the sound of Harry’s breathe hitching. He mewls softly into the kiss when Harry moves the hand in his pocket up to grip Louis’ jaw harshly.
“Is that fucking blood?” Danielle suddenly speaks up, voice high-pitched. She sound shocked. Harry can feel her watching them. “That’s a lot of tongue.” She comments, voice returning back to its natural tone. “What the fuck is going on here? Are they going to have sex in here? Are they being fucking paid?”
“That’s so unhygienic, actually.” Liam comments.
“Zayn, why is your eye looking so fucked up? It’s all purple and bruised and shit. Did you knock it against Perrie’s arse bone while she was riding your face?”
“You’re a cunt Eleanor.” Perrie grumbles. “And you’re rude and fucking disgusting.”
Eleanor cackles. “What?” she asks, as if what she’s just said was not wrong at all. “Your arse is bony, it’s okay.”
Harry moves his hand down to unzip Louis’ jeans. He bites on his lip and presses their bodies closer so that their groins are touching.
While this happens, Zayn tells him that Louis punched him and Barbara, the most insensitive person in the world, laughs first. Joining her is Niall Horan, her equally as sensitive boyfriend/ secret fiancée.
“That’s fucking fantastic!” She exclaims. “Even on someone’s birthday, he’s a shit.”
“Zayn punched him on the nose, first. It was so fucking disgusting.”
Harry briefly wonders whether Perrie looks as bored as she sounds. She probably does.
It’s only when Louis’ hands disappear down the front of Harry’s jeans that they’re pulled apart by Liam and Sophia.
Struggling in Liam’s tight hold, Louis huffs and sags his body. Harry watches him through floppy curls and smirks, winking quickly when Louis’ eyes meet his. He laughs and glances down at the soft bulge in Harry’s tight grey jeans. His eyes are fiery blue when he brings them back up to meet Harry’s gaze, again.
God, he wants him forever.
“Calm down.” Liam laughs. He puts Louis down and holds his wrists back with one hand, while resting his other one on his shoulder. “This is no time to pursue your exhibitionist kink.”
Louis gasps. “We do not have an exhibitionist king Lee-yum.” Louis spits out, ripping his arms out of Liam’s hold. He turns around and gives Liam a dirty look before walking to where Harry’s standing. Sophia’s standing behind him and she chortles when Louis forces Harry to wrap his arms around his waist.
She squeezes Harry’s shoulders and digs her nails into his skin. Louis smacks her hand away, in an attempt to get her away, but she’s stubborn. She rests her chin on the shoulder opposite to the one Louis’ resting his head against and doesn’t even try to hide the smug smile on her face.
“What a fat fucking lie.”
.
“Yes!” Eleanor screams. “Please! Don’t even try to defend yourself when just last week you sucked Harry off while we were all watching How I Met Your Mother.”
“In our own apartment.” Louis deadpans, answering immediately. There’s no emotion on his face. “We can do whatever the hell we want in our apartment.” He repeats, emphasizing on the word ‘our’.
“Plus,” Harry starts, “that was only one ti-“
Niall claps his hand and exclaims “bullshit!” as he doubles over in laughter. “You always say that when we call you out on it! It’s happened at least three damn times, this year, and it’s only the twelfth of January.”
“Oh shut up Niall.”
“Yeah.” Danielle agrees, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips. Everyone turns around to look at her, eyebrows raised, and she giggles while shrugging her shoulders. “What?” she asks, dropping her arms to her sides and turning her body to look at Niall, “I was only agreeing with H.” She says. “You should shut up, sometimes.”
The right sleeve of her over-sized white jumper has fallen off her shoulder, exposing her caramel skin and all the freckles that are still there from the summer that’s just passed.
Danielle is awfully beautiful. It’s a shame she’s a bitch.
Niall’s mouth opens to argue but Barbara steps forward and slaps her hand over his mouth before he can get anything out. She stomps her foot on the floor twice and everyone looks at her with wide eyes straight afterwards.
Harry almost laughs at how in sync they all are with each other. They spend too much time together. It’s fucking ridiculous.
“Can you all just shut up?” She demands, blue eyes flickering around to all their faces. “It’s Zayn’s birthday, not any of ours. So until then, calm down and try not to hog up the attention with dumb shit. We’re not here to celebrate anyone else but him.” She rolls her eyes and licks her bottom lip. “Christ,” she exhales, shaking her head, “all of you are fucking idiots.”
Barbara was born and raised in Hungary. She came to the UK when she was fourteen for holiday, fell in love with the city, and came back when she was nineteen. Despite having picked up on the British accent a little, her accent is still strong and pronounced. It’s even clearer when she’s angry. Like, for instance, right now.
“Sorry.” Harry speaks up, apologizing on behalf of everyone. Barbara doesn’t smile but she looks pleased. When she turns to look at Perrie, Perrie stands up and jumps over the couch, towards the kitchen. Zayn quickly follows her movements, and looks back, worry flashing in his auburn eyes for a moment. It disappears when she looks back to give him a sheepish smile. He laughs and blows her a kiss.
As they wait for her to reappear from their bedroom, everyone falls into an easy conversation that Louis leads- of course.
The room falls silent when Perrie returns and she rolls her eyes at how over-dramatic her friends are. There’s a white box in her left hand and a large black box underneath her arm. It’s obvious that she wrapped both of them.
Still, Zayn smiles and Harry guesses that Perrie alone is enough. It’s not like his opinion matters anyway. It isn’t his relationship or his gifts- neither is it his birthday.
She walks back and rolls over the couch to where she had been sitting. “I got you something.” She tells him, dropping the two boxes into his lap. “We all did.”
“Did you wrap them?” Zayn asks, glancing from the box to her eyes.
She nods her head confidently and grins widely, leaning her head forward and accepting the kiss he places on her flushed cheeks. “Is it obvious?”
“Would it make you better if I said no?”
Perrie laughs and Sophia lifts her eyes to lock gazes with both Louis and Harry from where they’re standing on the other side of the room. She nods their head towards the kitchen. Zayn’s birthday cake is hidden there. Harry has no idea how Zayn’s hasn’t found it. Then again, Sophia probably threatened Perrie into trying to keep Zayn far away from the kitchen.
They leave the room quietly. Louis doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand as they trail behind Sophia into the kitchen.
“Don’t make a fucking sound.” Sophia whispers. She opens the oven, revealing the really pretty chocolate cake she baked this morning at three am. “Or I’ll kill you.”
It’s funny to think that they had wanted Louis and Harry to make the cake. If that had happened then they’d be no goddamn cake.
When Zayn shouts loudly, they all giggle- knowing it’s because he’s opened the gift with the strap-on in it. “Well that’s going to be easy.” Louis teases, glancing up at Harry who’s standing in front of him.
The shout is followed by a howl of laughter and Harry breaks out into a grin, unable to look away from Louis. He laughs and Sophia grunts. Harry looks at her quickly and looks away just as quick. The glare she’s giving him is deathly.
He stops and looks down at his feet.
Sophia claps her hands. “I’m holding the cake when we walk in. I want Harry on one side of me and Louis on the other.” She tells them as she sticks the last black candle into the cake. Once she’s done, she turns her body around and leans back against the counter. “And Haz, you’ll hold the flowers while Louis… well, honestly babe, you just carry on looking pretty, okay? Don’t forget to sing louder than us.”
“Why?”
Sophia raises one eyebrow and smirks. She picks up the white lilies lying on the kitchen counter. Harry’s one hundred per cent sure she made Eleanor go steal them for her. The thought makes him snicker.
“Do you really need me to answer that?” She questions, tilting her head to the side. “You once drunkenly told me you and H made a sex-tape. Please don’t lie to me and tell me you’ve never listened to yourself.”
Louis blushes crimson red, something that rarely happens. Harry presses a chaste kiss to the bridge of his nose and says; “I find it hot. It’s okay love.”
Sophia groans. She then goes on to demand that Harry stand behind her and Louis in front of her. They walk out like that, in a line, and Louis immediately starts to sing ‘happy birthday’ loudly, like he was told.
Harry’s so proud of his boy, even when he starts dancing around foolishly. Louis’ smile is so big and so genuine and Harry’s heart feels as though it might burst- he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life loving this idiot
Zayn’s eyes light up when his eyes fall upon them. His grin never wavers as they hand him the flowers as well as the cake and knife. When Louis tells him he still looks ravishing, despite his purple eye and swollen cheek, he grins ever wider.
“Yeah, whatever,” Zayn chuckles, narrowing his eyes at him, “you do too, mate, you look dashing actually.”
Louis coos loudly and plants a fat kiss on his mouth. Zayn curls a hand around the collar of Louis’ jacket as the other boy deepens the kiss, causing whiny complaints to flow out the mouths of Harry and Perrie. The longer they kiss, the louder they complain and it only takes a couple of seconds to tick by before Zayn’s pushing Louis away from him roughly.
Luckily, Harry had been standing by him so when he comes stumbling back, Harry catches him. He wraps one arm around his waist tightly and hoists him up so that he’s standing on both of his feet. Harry bites at Louis’ earlobe and Louis relaxes in his grip, teeth latching onto his bottom lip.
It’s no secret how possessive Harry is. Everyone knows. It’s hardly a surprise to anyone when he nuzzles his head in the crook of Louis’ neck and mutters “mine” right into his ear.
Louis laughs abruptly but is shut up immediately when Harry grazes his lips right over the most sensitive spot on his neck. An involuntary moan falls from his mouth and he covers his hand over his mouth. He tries to cover the moan by forcing out a laugh, but it’s much shakier than the last one.
They’ve certainty caught Barbara’s attention because she keeps her gaze on them for two whole damn minutes before diverting her gaze back onto Niall.
However, being the absolute tease that he is, Louis pushes his arse against Harry’s groan and giggles delightfully at the sound of Harry’s moans. Barbara looks at them again, eyes turned into slits, and they both force a smile. Harry laces his fingers with Louis’ and brings their interlocked hands up to his wet lips so that he can kiss Louis’ knuckles.
“I love you guys so fucking much.” Zayn confesses suddenly, eyes flicker up to all of their faces. “Thank you.”
There’s never been a moment in Harry’s life since he met Zayn that he’s ever seen the boy smile so widely. Louis raises his fist up and whoops loudly, eliciting a boisterous laugh from the birthday boy. Everyone whoops with him, grinning and laughing and basking in the energy surging in this room. All Harry can think is ‘Golden Boy.’
Eleanor and Niall pull out six bottles of incredibly cheap red and white one. With them, they’ve also bought two bottles of pure vodka, which they set on the kitchen counter with identical grins on their faces. Harry plugs his phone into the stereo and plays ‘You’re Not Good Enough’ by Blood Orange. He sets his phone down and stands up, turning around just in time to see Sophia flinging herself onto Liam, wrapping her lanky arms around his neck, and pressing an open-mouthed kiss on his lips.
“Straight people.” He mutters, just loud enough for them to hear. Liam, being Liam, makes a show of grabbing onto her right breast through the material of her tight black body con.
The afternoon rolls by smoothly. As the sun sets and the moon rises, everyone progressively becomes even more drunk and at some point, Louis and Harry have to go down to the corner store to go by more alcohol with the money Eleanor will regret giving them when she wakes up in the morning with a horrid hangover.
Anyway, Harry’s always been way too keen for watching his friends slowly but surely loose their dignity with each shot they take. He isn’t ashamed with admitting that he participated in the very raunchy round of body shots and when ‘Beautiful’ by Christina Aguilera was played, he sang along as well because as his friends unravel and loose their minds, so does he.
If he could, Harry would thank whoever is up there for giving him such a lovely group of friends who love him as much as he loves them. He wouldn’t swap anyone of them for anyone else, anyone better. Not even Danielle or Eleanor, who haven’t stopped making out for a whole ten minutes. Or Niall, who’s making horrible jokes one after the other. The only people laughing are himself and his girlfriend, Barbara.
Harry can’t help but congratulate Barbara on the amount of pure, unconditional love, she’s got for Niall because Harry knows that, if he were Barbara, Niall would be dead already.
“I wish there were stars in London.”
Harry and Louis are perched on a small windowsill, on the other side of the room. They’re facing each other and Louis’ head is leaning on the window. The city lights are reflecting in his eyes. He tangles up their feet even more between them and grows excited at the little twitch at the corners of Louis’ mouth.
“Hmm?”
Louis moves his eyes to meet Harry’s. “Back at home, in Donny, the stars are always there. I want that. I miss that.”
“You’ve got me,” Harry says jokingly, even though there’s a part of him that isn’t joking. He takes a breath in to try and come his Increasing heartbeat caused by the utter beauty Louis emits. He blushes and the city lights glimmer in Louis’ now grey eyes.
Below them, London’s buzzing- alive and bright even at this time of the night and Harry can’t blame Louis when he tears his eyes away to look down at the city. He’s so beautiful and Harry’s so in love with him. “Yeah,” he murmurs after some time, “I do, don’t I? I’ve got you.”
Eleanor yells something Harry can’t understand clearly. He takes a sip of the glass of wine they’re sharing and says, “I love you.” To which Louis replies with,
“You’re drunk.”
“That’s doesn’t change anything. You could chop my entire dick off and I’d still find a reason to love you more than anything.”
Louis’ face scrunches up cutely and he shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Was that … was that meant to be romantic?” he questions, giggling. “Because, if so, you’ve still got a long way to fucking go mister.”
Harry grunts and flips him off. On the other side of the room, everyone is playing a rather stress, and violent, game of Monopoly. Louis laughs when Perrie shouts at Sophia for buying the piece of land she had wanted to buy. It’s confusing as to how they’ve managed to make it this far into the night without a single noise complaint.
Fast-forward to one am, before Harry’s forced to pick up a sleepy plus slightly drunk Louis back to their apartment. His throat is dry so he stands up and moves to the kitchen to go pour himself a glass of water. Just as he’s about to turn into the kitchen, he stops when he catches sight of Perrie leaning against a wall, near her and Zayn’s bedroom. She’s laughing into her hands and her eyes are wide and glassy as she looks up at Zayn.
Half of Zayn’s body is leaning against hers and he’s got one had resting above her head while the other one rests on her waist. “Thank you so much love.” He says, leaning down to brush his nose against hers. It’s too dark to see whether or not Perrie is blushing but Harry would like to imagine that she is. “For this and for everything else. I love you so much.”
When they kiss, Harry turns away. He walks back to Louis who’s talking to Barbara. She’s stroking her fingers through his hair and Harry can see his body grow more and more pliant with each brush. There’s water back at home, Harry will just have to wait.
“Sweetheart,” Harry says, calling for Louis. He’s standing above him with a creepy, fond, smile on his face. “Let’s go.”
Louis’ eyes flicker up to meet Harry’s gaze and he smiles softly, muttering an “okay” before asking for Harry to “please pick me up?”
Barbara and Niall laugh before Harry does. It’s a world known fact that he’s unbelievably whipped. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist tightly when he gets lifted up and he buries his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, arms moving to slither around his neck.
After saying goodbye to everyone, they leave, and the last thing Harry hears Danielle slur before the door closes behind them is; “wow, those little fuckers are most probably going to stay together until they’re rotten.”
It’s seems as though he isn’t the only one who hears the comment because Louis laughs too, peppering kisses along his collarbones.
They get to the flat and Harry’s quick to change them both out of their closes and into warm pyjamas. They move to the bathroom where Harry brushes Louis’ teeth for him while Louis mutters on and on about the universe. Harry can’t help but grimace as Louis speaks because he’s spitting toothpaste all over the place. He says nothing though, smiles and nods his head as Louis rambles. You love who you love and you love all of them.
In bed, Louis’ washed in purple light coming in from the windows and etched onto his mouth is a lazy smile. His eyes look like tsunami waves and Harry remembers when he first met Louis- sixteen years old and fucking fearless. He remembers thinking’ oh god, this boy’s going to drown me.’ He used to wonder whether or not Louis’ eyes would swallow him whole like the ocean does. He didn’t. He hasn’t, and Harry knows he won’t ever.
Sometimes, Harry prides himself in being the one lucky survivor who made it- the one who fought hard not to drown.
“You’re my favourite person in the entire world Lou.” Harry whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and presses his head against Harry’s chest. They’re sharing a pillow because Pussy fell asleep on Louis’. Harry doesn’t mind at all, in fact he loves being pressed against Louis like this- especially since it’s winter. Plus, he’s way too sleepy to go searching for another pillow. He’s buzzed from the alcohol, the night and from being too in love, if that makes sense. He doesn’t care. He just wants to sleep; he’ll let her be for the night- just for tonight.
“I love you I love you.”
*
Harry’s busy making breakfast when Louis shuffles into the kitchen, wearing washed out blue skinny jeans, his favourite leather black doc martens that have worn out and an oversized black Nike hoodie that clearly belongs to Harry as well as a black beanie.
He looks extremely tired and the cute scowl on his face doesn’t make Harry take him even more seriously than he does now. The swelling has gotten worse and the skin around his nose is dark purple with little specks of yellow shaded in. It’s hard to swallow the laugh rising in Harry’s throat at how miserable he looks, but he manages, and when Louis and him lock gazes he grins.
“Morning sunshine!” he greets, “you look super happy today.”
Louis grumbles and shoots him a fake smile, before putting on the pair of sunglasses that were lying in the fruit bowl.
Harry rolls his eyes. “I made you some breakfast, because I’m a good boyfriend. Please eat all of it. We can’t have you dying during your lecture.”
Between the two of them, Louis woke up with a far worse headache than Harry’s considering that he drank fairly more than Harry did. He laughs at Harry’s comment but winces quickly afterwards, using one had to massage the corner of his forehead. He takes the plate of breakfast and thanks him quietly, leaning up on the tips of his toes to press a quick kiss on Harry’s mouth.
“Mm,” he moans as they pull away, “you’re the greatest.”
Harry makes a face and shoots Louis a sly wink.
“Shush,” Louis laughs, tucking his bottom lip into his mouth. A brief silence falls upon them and Louis looks around. “’M guessing the electricity is out.” He says softly, gaze meeting Harry’s once again.
“Yeah, just went out now.” Harry replies, running his thumb over the fading freckles on Louis’ cheeks. As his thumb brushes over Louis’ bruised nose, he hisses and pulls a face, smacking Harry’s hand away. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you breakfast. And fuck, I don’t know Lou- there’s no, like, money to pay for it.” He rambles, biting on his nails nervously, “but don’t worry, I’ll ask Gem to borrow us some money.”
Louis shakes his head and grabs a hold of the hand in Harry’s mouth. He pulls on it and sets it against his chest. “Love, calm down, it’s okay. You don’t need to ask Gem for anything, yeah? Don’t stress her; we’re not okay but we can try to be okay. We can just use candles for now; you know my mum bought me a life supply of them for Christmas last year. It’ll be okay Hazza. We’ll be okay.”
“No.” Harry refuses immediately; frowning in protest because he knows how much Louis adores those candles. He puts them all around the apartment to make the place look less dodgy, right beside the stupid pot plants Harry’s obsessed with buying ever once in a while.
“No. Shut up.” Louis cuts him off, voice sharp. “It’s okay. I’m okay and we’re going to be fucking okay. One day we’ll buy even fancier once, when we’ve got the entire world in our hands.” He tells Harry, emphasising on the ‘entire.’ Harry’s heart enlarges and he takes a large intake of breath. “For now,” he continues, voice softer, “we’ve got to take whatever is given to us.”
Louis is so easy to love. Harry can’t imagine ever doing anything else but loving him for the rest of his life.
“Okay…”
Humming happily, Louis steps out of Harry’s grasp. He takes his foot and moves to the living room to eat. Harry follows him and doesn’t take his eyes off of him as he eats- just to make sure that he’s eating for real. As Louis takes a small bite of his omelette, he glares at Harry.
“Do you mind?” He asks rudely, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m eating. Stop watching me.”
Harry shrugs his shoulders sheepishly and smiles. “You’re ridiculously beautiful.”
“And you’re a real fucking creep.”
“We’re perfect for each other.”
Louis raises one eyebrow and takes another small bite. “Tell me about it.”
*
Harry studies International Relations at London Metropolitan University. Louis studies Architecture at UAL with Zayn who studies Visual Arts there.
Paying for his education is the only thing his parents still do for him, and he doesn’t think it’d be done without his mother. Harry’s so grateful for that. He wants to do so many great things in his life. He needs this degree. He needs to succeed, to graduate from this fucking hellhole. He wants to make himself so proud- as well as Louis. He wants to contribute into living the life they’ve always dreamed of.
Without any of the motivation he has, he wouldn’t be forcing himself to sit through the incredibly boring four-hour lecture that he’s sitting through right now. He writes down everything his lecturer says and tries to ignore the pounding in his head.
All he wants to do is sleep. All he wants is home and Louis.
*
After the lecturer has dismissed everyone, people move out of the lecturing hall quite quickly, packing up everything they brought into their bags and practically stampeding out of the room.
Before Harry knows it, he’s the only one left. Once he’s closed his leather sling bag, he swings it over his shoulder and stands up straight, swiping a hand across his forehead.
“Mr Styles!”
He looks up and meets his lecturer’s gaze. “Yes?”
“Try not to drink the day before a lecture, okay? Your hangover is giving me a hang over, and I didn’t even drink last night.”
Harry chuckles and the old shithead doesn’t even laugh with him. The only way Harry can detect that he’s amused is by the small smile on his face. Giving him a half-arsed salute, harry begins walking out of the room. “See you on Wednesday.” He says, turning his back to his lecturer.
“Without a hangover?”
“Of course.” Harry replies, running up the stairs and swinging the door open. Once the door is closed behind him, he manoeuvres his way through the busy hall. When he gets to the end of the hall, he leans back against the hall beside the door that leads outside.
There are too many people in the building, and they’re all making so much fucking noise. Harry just wants to go home. He just wants Louis. He hates unfamiliar people. Fuck.
Somewhere in the crowd, someone shouts his name, and at first Harry isn’t sure if he heard right until “Harold!” is being shouted again, even louder than the first couple of times.
Harry’s immediate response is to roll his eyes. He huffs but still turns around- willing himself to face the idiot whose about to waste his time.
When he see’s that the person is Nick Grimshaw, he smiles.
The long-legged giraffe is jogging towards Harry. His limbs seem to have gotten even longer and his quiff is so big that if he jumped high enough, he could most probably touch the heavens.
Nick Grimshaw is a pretentious, obnoxious, sarcastic third year student at the same university as Harry. He’s a third year and he’s studying Digital and Communications Media. Besides being the most arrogant person Harry’s ever met in his entire life- other than Louis- he’s really good company when you need a good laugh. And, deep, deep, deep, deep down inside of Harry, he secretly enjoys having Nick as a friend.
“Hello friend!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around the shorter, by only two inches, boy and pulling him in for a tight hug. The grin on his face is wide and when he pulls away from Harry, he’s panting as if he’s just ran here from India. “How are you? How’s your bitch of a boyfriend?” he asks excitedly, giggling at his rude joke. They slowly move outside.
At the entrance of the building, on the stairs leading to the doors, Harry fishes his pockets for the packet of cigarette’s Louis put in his leather jacket this morning. He laughs. “Lou,” he starts, emphasising on the nickname, “and I are great, actually. Thank you for asking. We’re fantastic, so in love it’s quite disgusting.”
Nick makes a face, to which Harry laughs at. “Oh wow, okay, shut up now, yeah? I don’t have enough of a love life to tolerate the beauty of yours so…”
Nick shakes his head at Harry’s offer of a cigarette. “How are you anyway?” Harry asks, lighting a cigarette up, “Haven’t seen you in a while.” He says before taking a deep breath, inhaling the toxic fumes from the death stick in-between his fingers.
Nick shrugs his shoulders as Harry leans back against the brick wall behind him. He bites his bottom lip and stares down at his unlaced converse. When he looks back up at Harry, he smiles. “I’m good. Still beautiful, as you can see.” They laugh at that and Nick runs his too-big hands through his hair before clearing his throat. “I’m not entirely sure how I’ve made it to this side of the campus anyway, but I’m here now so…”
It’s obvious that there’s more to be said. Harry knows this by the way Nick’s foot is tapping irritatingly against the pavement, as well as by how he keeps sparing quick glances at Harry- glances at the thinks Harry’s not aware of.
By now, it’s starting to drizzle and the large crowd that once surrounded them outside is slowly starting to disappear. Nick and Harry sit in silence together. They’ve move to go stand underneath a roof big enough to fit both of them under.
Harry takes another inhalation of his cigarette and Nick takes this moment to speak up. “I’ve got an actual valid reason for being here.” He blurts out. Nick Grimshaw has never been the type of man to beat around the bush.
Raising one eyebrow at him, Harry smiles and says, “I know. I was just waiting for you to mention it first.”
Nick rolls his eyes and Harry’s thankful for the brief moment of silence that passes between them as they both collect their thoughts. Nick breaks that silence, however, when he speaks. “Uhm, yeah,” he says, laughing awkwardly and scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know H. I was just thinking about you and Lou- am I even allowed to call him that? I think he hates me. Anyway, I was wondering whether you guys were okay or not? Because whatever you guys are, I’m always here. And I know that’s weird coming from me and everything, because apparently I’m this huge arse wipe-“
Harry snorts and Nick stops talking momentarily to glare at him before speaking again with a soft smile on his face.
“-But I’ve got a heart. You’re a good friend H. If you guys ever, ever, need anything- like anything- just tell me and if I can, I’ll help.”
Harry smokes the cigarette until he can’t smoke anymore. He drops it to the floor and stubs it out under his boots, squishing it and burning out the little bit of fire still left in it. “Nick.” He breathes out, using one hand to rub at his eyes. He’s so tired; he just wants to go home. “We’re fire.” Harry tells him, looking at Nick and then down at his ratty shoes. “We’re good together, y’know?”
This time it’s Nick’s turn to snort. “The entire world knows.”
Harry shoves his shoulder playfully and laughs hoarsely. “And, fuck, we’ll make it, somehow- trust me”
“You’re boyfriend is fucking insane mate.” Nick blurts out shamelessly. He laughs and shakes his head. “I ship you two so hard. I hope you two know that. You’re both good people.”
As Harry lights another cigarette, he looks up at Nick and says, “That means a lot.”
“And for your parents…”
“Parents? What even are those?” Harry asks dumbly, smiling around his newly lit cigarette and inhaling. His nicotine addicting began when he was seventeen and ever since then he’s always liked to imagine the nicotine eating away at his lungs. The burn has always excited him. It’s weird, he knows, but it’s never failed to remind him that he’s actually alive- that’s actually living and breathing and surviving.
It’s no surprise how loud and obnoxiously obnoxious Nick’s laugh is. It swipes away at the tension building up because of their choice of topic and, without even realising it, Harry finds himself laughing as well.
“Oh yes, fuck, I keep forgetting that parents are just a myth.” Nick says after he’s calmed down. His eyes are a vibrant shade of mahogany and Harry can’t help but wonder how anyone in this world can be as arrogantly happy as Nick is even under such dreary weather.
*
They end up talking for an entire hour. It’s just after three pm when Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out of his pocket and reads the text. It’s from Louis asking him where he is.
“Who is it?” Nick asks, even though he knows who it is.
Without looking up from his phone, Harry replies to him. “Lou.” He says, putting his phone back into his pocket and lifting his gaze up to meet Nick’s. He smiles apologetically and pushes himself off of the wall they’re leaning on so he’s standing up straight. “It was so nice seeing you mate.” He says, pulling up the hood of his jacket. “We must make plans really soon.” He crushes his fifth cigarette underneath his shoe and widens his smile when Nick gives him a grin too big for his face.
“With your stupid friends and moody boyfriend?”
Harry throws his head back and laughs. “Of course! I come with the whole package.” He says, jogging backwards down the little hill the university is situating on. “I never go anywhere without them!” He shouts once he’s at the bottom, waving at Nick frantically with one hand.
Luckily for him, there’s a cab right opposite the gates the he runs up to and hops into before he can hear Nick’s reply.
*
To Boo: On my way babe. I love you.
From Boo: Hurry up; I could be dying.
*
The minute Harry steps foot into the warm apartment, Louis is latching himself onto him.
Harry stumbles back from the impact of being pounced on. “I take it you missed me,” he teases. Louis lifts his head from where he had rested it on Harry’s shoulder to look at him with pale blue eyes. His pupils are bit larger than normal and Harry can tell he had been smoking weed before this. He can’t smell any in the air so he’s guessing Louis had been at Nialls before this.
Louis kisses him suddenly, cupping both his cheeks in his hands. “Of course I did.” He whispers against Harry’s lips, pulling away. He smiles softly and Harry mentions nothing about his honesty, even though it always shocks him. Louis must notice because he rolls his eyes and eyes him as if he’s some pathetic dying fly. A funny feeling of relief spreads through Harry’s chest because as much as he likes beautifully sincere, high, Lou, he would much rather prefer bratty, bitchy, beautifully beautiful Lou.
“Separation Anxiety?” Harry asks him, swaying side to side as ‘Meter, Pale, Tone’ by Mount Kimbie featuring King Krule plays through the aux cable on their lousy radio. Louis sighs loudly and drops his head back onto Harry’s shoulder, nodding his head.
“All the time.”
Harry walks them to their bedroom, and on the windowsill he sees Pussy. She’s sitting with her back towards them and when she hears them stumble into the room, she peers over her shoulder and gives them a once over, purring softly. She turns around again and presses her nose flat against the ice-cold window, eyes following the rain droplets rolling down.
Pussy’s such a good cat. She’s pretty and likes to act as if she’s also a human being, which has its pros and cons. Sometimes, she tends to become a spoilt pretentious bitch, but Harry can only blame that personality straight on Nick Grimshaw, whom was forced to babysit her when she was still an itty-bitty kitten, by Louis.
That’s the only excuse Harry has.
Harry kneels down at the edge of the mattress and drops Louis abruptly, laughing loudly when Louis’ body bounces up and down. Louis’ mouthparts and he laughs too, sending shockwaves coursing down Harry’s spine.
Nothing could’ve stopped him from kissing Louis. It takes seconds before Louis’ kissing Harry back, and when he does he tightens the grip he had on Harry’s biceps and opens his legs even wider so Harry can get comfortable between them.
“Can I fuck you?” Harry blurts out shamelessly- as always. He ruts his hips down against Louis’ and listens to the sharp moan that falls from Louis’ mouth.
“Yeah,” Louis laughs, nodding his head and tugging at Harry’s top, “of course. Fuck- wanted you so badly the entire day.”
“Love making you cum baby.” Harry tells him, sitting up on his knees again and spreading his hands over Louis’ clothed thighs. When his hands get to Louis’ knees, he moves them to remove the heavy green coat he had been wearing. With the coat, he throws off his long-sleeved black top.
He’s naked from the waist up. Louis’ got a hand curled around the two necklaces Harry’s got dangling from his neck. One necklace has a little silver aeroplane, a present he got from his mother on his fifteenth birthday. She gave him the present and told him she’d love him no matter what, forever and ever.
Louis’ that ‘no matter what’ she’d been talking about and she’s broken her promise. She isn’t here and whatever ‘forever’ she had been talking about apparently isn’t really forever because forever doesn’t end and theirs one has.
To be honest, Harry isn’t sure why he still owns it. A part of him still likes the idea of whom his mother used to be when he was fifteen years old and she was still brave.
The other necklace is actually a holy rosary. It’s also the necklace Louis’ holding currently. He knows Louis doesn’t understand why he still chooses to believe in a God who’s done nothing for him, but sometimes it’s easier to believe in something else other than you. Sometimes you need to have someone else to blame your problems on.
Louis watches him with wide blue eyes and arches his back in order to pull off his top. His covered in tattoos and freckles and beautiful marks, and scars, that he knows Louis hates. Harry presses his cold hands against Louis’ slightly protruding ribs and runs his fingers over each of them, smirking as Louis shudders underneath his touch.
“I’ve been eating.” Louis tells him, voice thick and raspy. “In case you start worrying.”
Harry ignores him and continues unbutton his jeans. Once he’s jeans are off, Harry’s eyes drop down to look at his prominent hipbones. Sensing Louis’ anxiety, Harry leans down to press a kiss on both of them. “I know. You don’t have to convince me.” He whispers, looking up at Louis through thick black eyelashes. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells him, kissing up his body, “always takes me off guard. Your body is heaven baby.”
As he says this, he wraps his hands around each of Louis’ ankles. He presses his index finger against the key tattoo on the side of Louis’ ankle and smiles at the “hmm” that Louis hums out, blushing a little under Harry’s gaze.
Harry smirks and synchronises his breathing to the shallowness of Louis’. He watches the rise and fall of Louis’ chest and swallows down the urge to swoop down and leave marks all over his unblemished skin.
The entire world should know that Louis William Tomlinson is his- that they belong together.
“I’ve got you.” Louis tells him, cutting him off of his thoughts and shooting him a faint smile. “You know that right? All the time.”
Harry surges down to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. “I know you’ve got me.” He replies, “I’ve got you too.” He kisses Louis again, taking time to nibble on his bottom lip, which elicits a low groan from him. The sound clouds his mind and hardens his cock. He’s quite happy to know that Louis’ just as hard he is when he grinds his hips up against Harry’s.
The longer they kiss, the most desperate they become, and Harry’s got to stand up quickly because his jeans are starting to become uncomfortably tight. Louis watches him through half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk painted on his lips. When Harry pulls his briefs off, Louis does so as well. A low whine escapes Louis’ mouth when he wraps a hand around his cock.
Louis’ body is a work of fucking art- a sculpture designed by the Gods of every universe- a sculpture made beautiful because of all it’s flaws, it’s scars. Harry always looses it when they fuck- or make love- because Louis moves with such grace, but at the same time it’s always so dirty and erotic and fucking mind-blowing.
And shit, Harry could write poetry about how pathetically beautiful Louis looks underneath their lousy lights and broken bulbs. The way he looks at Harry with so much goddamn trust is so beautiful and so honest. Harry’s in love with the way his thighs shake when he cums. Harry’s in love with the breathless, open-mouthed kisses he leaves all over his face every time Harry fucks him hard. It’s exhilarating knowing that Louis’ just as desperate for him as he is for Louis.
Shuffling down so that he’s mouth is at the same level as Louis’ cock; Harry kisses the tip and bites back a smile at the moan Louis lets out. “You’re so beautiful.” Harry tells him, watching Louis bite his arm to calm himself down. “So, so, so beautiful.” Harry continues, tugging on Louis’ cock. He’s got to force himself not to cum on the spot when Louis jerks his body at the touch, moaning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut.
Harry then plants his hands on Louis’ firm thighs and kisses the inside of his thighs, nosing at the skin there. With his tongue, he traces the faint silver lines there. “Pull your legs up to your chest sweetheart.” Harry orders, surprising himself with how rough his voice sounds. “Want to eat you out.” He murmurs. He spreads Louis’ legs open even wider. He whimpers and arches his back when Harry presses one finger against his fluttering hole.
At the high whine that leaves Louis’ mouth, Harry flickers his gaze up to find that he’s already being looked at by Louis. His eyes are so vivid they’d put the ocean to shame. Whatever thoughts Harry had meant to pursue on teasing Louis are suddenly thrown out the window. He spreads Louis’ arse cheeks apart and presses his hot tongue against his rim. The sudden act causes Louis to gasp and he breathes out a soft,
“Oh.”
Harry licks around the walls of his arse. He uses his hands to massage the soft skin on the inside of his meaty thighs. Harry loves it when they start off slow like this- with kitten licks and soft pecks that drive Louis crazy.
For the next three minutes, Harry continues to tease Louis like this. However, both of them start to grow impatient and just a little frustrated- though Louis more than Harry. At the groan Louis lets out, Harry dips his tongue inside of Louis and relishes in the loud moan he lets out as he arches his back off of the bed and digs his fingernails into the sheets.
With a slack jaw, he pants out “fuck” with a slurred voice. Subtly, he begins to grind his hips up into Harry’s mouth. “Yes.”
Eating Louis out is Harry’s favourite activity to do with him. It’s amazing how responsive he is. The way he tugs at Harry’s curls and moans loud enough to get the attention of everyone living in this apartment block is so, so hot- as well as how he grinds against Harry’s face filthily and whispers his name out into the stuffy air of their apartment like some type of fucking prayer.
Louis is so beautiful. He’s even more beautiful when he’s falling apart because of Harry. He’s the sexiest person Harry’s ever known- and will ever know.
It doesn’t take long for Harry’s kitten licks to turn into a hot session in which he tongue fucks Louis and moves his mouth sloppily in a way he knows Louis fucking adores. To see his reaction, Harry smacks his hand hard against Louis’ thigh and when Louis jolts even harder than before, letting out a dry sob, Harry almost cries with him. “Ah, fuck!” he moans brokenly. “Baby, shit. Finger me, please, c’mon.” He pleads, raking his fingers through Harry’s hair. He moves his head from side to side and his thighs begin to shake a little.
Unexpectedly, he props himself up on his elbows and uses one hand to try push Harry further into his ass. He grunts and drops onto the mattress again. Harry slowly starts rutting his painfully erect cock against the bed and when he catches a tear rolling down Louis’ cheek, he pulls away. Louis whines and moves his hand down to his cock to jack himself off. Harry swats his hand away before he’s able to grab a hold of his cock and to be even more of a shit; he smacks Louis on the thigh again- leaving a nasty bright red handprint.
Unfortunately, Louis doesn’t react the way he’d hoped for. Instead of yelling, he lets out a dirty sound that rakes throughout his petite body and echoes all around the apartment. Harry tries his hardest not to cry out in pure sexual frustration.
Maybe they are exhibitionists. Harry wants every single person in this shitty block of flats to hear them. “Don’t touch yourself.” He warns, trying to sound stern despite the shakiness in his voice because of how turned on he is. He’s breathing heavily and his eyes are stuck on the blue-eyed man struggling to keep himself together beneath him. “Please don’t piss me off.”
Louis’ eyes fly open and his swollen lips spread into a dirty smirk. “How about I call you daddy, yeah?” He asks playfully. His elbows collapse and he falls back onto the mattress. “I could be your baby boy.” He purrs, fingers drumming against his stomach while slowly inching closer to his cock, once again. He never listens. “Your good boy.”
He tries to lean forward and wrap his hand around Harry’s cock, but Harry turns him over so that he’s on his stomach and pins his hands to the mattress above his head.
“My baby boy huh? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Harry asks him as he peppers kisses down Louis’ spine. When no response comes, Harry uses his free hand to search for the lube while the other holds Louis’ wrists together. He uncaps the lid with his teeth and removes his hand off of Louis’ wrist to squeeze some lube onto his finger. His heart almost bursts with pride when Louis keeps his wrists when Harry pined them.
When he spreads lube all over Louis’ rim, Louis hisses and mutters; “cold.”
Harry kisses the dimples at the bottom of Louis’ spine. He’s trembling slightly- his skin feels as if it’s on fucking fire.
“Babe, put your fingers in me otherwise I’ll do it myself.” Louis demands- voice muffled by the pillow underneath his head, “Har- fuck” he croaks, jumping when Harry presses two fingers into him at the same time.
“Are you okay?”
Louis peers at him over his shoulder with blown pupils and nods his head frantically. “Go on love.” He urges, subtly fucking himself onto Harry’s fingers. Harry holds his hips down with one hand and barely gives Louis a change to catch his breath before he’s thrusting his fingers into him roughly.
Louis takes a sharp intake of breath before moaning softly, burying his head further into the pillow as Harry continues to finger him at a fast pace, hitting his prostate dead on often. “Yes, yes, yes!” he chants when Harry’s fingers massage the bundle of nerves that send shockwaves shooting all over his body.
When harry pulls out his fingers, he presses a soft kiss to the red skin on his arse and demands him to get up on his hands and knees.
Louis scrambles up onto his hands and knees immediately, and looks at Harry for approval. Harry shoots him a faint smile and Louis lets out a deep breath Harry didn’t know he was keeping in. He hands his head down in front of him and his hair covers his face like a curtain as he waits patiently for Harry to do whatever he has planned.
Quietly, Harry sits up on his knees to. He tilts his head to the side and takes a brief second to appreciate the spectacular curve of Louis’ arse. It’s a shame though, because he doesn’t appreciate it for a long time before he’s thrusting two of his back into him again, easing a third one in skilfully.
Louis shudders and Harry spits on his other hand, slithering it around Louis’ hips so that he can wrap it around his cock. “Baby,” Louis breathes out, fucking himself onto Harry’s fingers and into his fist. It’s hard not to think of how pretty Louis probably looks right now, with his hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes screwed shut. From where he is, he can see that Louis’ mouth is open and he can’t help but remember the last time they’d fucked. Louis had bit his bottom lip so hard it’d started to bleed.
“Don’t stop.” Louis moans, swivelling his hips and panting slightly. Harry moves his fingers and hand faster- he’s only ever ambidextrous when he needs to be. “Shit, shit, shit, shit …”
It’s not hard to tell that Louis’ about to cum. Harry pulls his fingers out fast and yanks Louis up by his hair so that his back is pressed against Harry’s chest. He then grabs Louis by his jaw and turns his head back so that he can kiss him roughly as he jacks him off slowly.
They kiss passionately- all tongue and saliva and clashing teeth and roaming hands. “Fuck.” Harry splutters, breathing faster than normal. He pushes Louis back onto his hands and knees. “I want you so bad.”
The word ‘fucking’ has never been a good enough word to describe intercourse with Louis. It’s always been so much more than that. There’s fucking and there’s sex and then there’s Louis.
Uncapping the bottle of lube, Harry lathers his cock with the cold substance and as he moves his hand up and down, his head falls back and he moans Louis’ name. It takes a lot of self-control to stop jacking off because he doesn’t want to finish himself off before he’s ruined Louis even more than he already has.
“I love you so much.” Louis tells him, spreading some of the remaining lube on his fingers around the rim of Louis’ arsehole.
Louis huffs out a laugh and says; “I’ll love you even more when you make me cum.”
Harry laughs too, but it’s a bit chocked. Slowly, he presses the head of his cock into Louis’ arse and bites his bottom lip hard when he hears Louis gasp at the intrusion. Dazed and breathless, he watches as his cock slowly disappears into Louis and once his hips are pressed flushed against Louis’ arse, he moves his hands from where they had been pressing bruises onto Louis’ waist to massage his arse cheeks.
His breath quickens when Louis shifts his hips. “Can I-“
“D-don’t even fucking ask me.” Louis grits out through clenched teeth. “I like the pain.” He moans out, moving his hips back slowly and shuddering. “You know that.” He tells Harry, “ Just fuck me, please.”
Harry doesn’t need to be asked twice. He moves his hips back slowly, wanting Louis to feel all his movements, and smirks at the high whine Louis releases at the back of his throat. He counts to three before slamming his hips forward.
At the sudden movement, Louis lets out a cry that echoes throughout the entire house. His back muscles flex as he tries to keep himself steady on his hands and knees. “Fuck, yes!” he hisses, fisting the blanket beneath them and dipping his back in so that his shoulder blades are even more prominent. “Feels so fucking good Hazza.” He says in between laboured breaths as Harry’s pace picks up and he begins to fuck him relentlessly, hitting his prostate directly each time.
At some point, Harry thrusts particularly hard against his prostate and his arms give out, making him fall flat against the bed with his arse up in the air.
“F-fuck H.” Louis stammers, sinking his teeth into his forearm. With every thrust he gets louder and filthier, and Harry’s grip on his arse tightens. He pulls out quickly and turns Louis over so that he’s lying flat on his back.
Louis’ entire body is covered in a shiny layer of sweat and he spreads his legs wider, stretching his arms above his head. He watches Harry watching him and smirks.
What a fucking sight, Harry thinks as he pulls Louis closer. He throws Louis’ legs over his shoulder and thanks God for giving him a boyfriend who’s so flexible. He re-enters him slowly and sighs when they’re flush against each other. Louis arches his back a little and Harry fits a thumb in him beside his cock, grunting lowly.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Louis doesn’t answer him- he just watches Harry wordlessly with a locked jaw. Harry pulls out of Louis again and taps his cock against Louis’ rim. When he shoves his cock back into him, it surprises them both and even Harry shouts, head tilting back as he grabs onto Louis’ hips.
‘Studio’ by Schoolboy Q comes on and Louis grinds his hips up to meet Harry’s shallow, hard, thrusts. They unintentionally start to fuck to the beat coming from their radio in the living room and it’s possibly one of the hottest things Harry’s ever experienced.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Louis cries out when Harry finds his prostate again. “Oh god, fuck yes.”
With each swivel of his hips, a dirty moan falls from Louis’ mouth. “Is. This. What. You. Fucking. Wanted?” Harry barks out, each word accommodated with a loud, sharp and hard thrust.
Louis’ voice sounds fucked and hoarse, and there are legitimate tears running down his face that Harry would’ve worried about if it weren’t for how long they’ve been together. It’s been so long and they’ve gotten so used to each other- they’ve memorised each other’s bodies and emotions so well it’s insane.
Harry lays his body down against Louis’ and Louis moves his legs from Harry’s shoulder to wrap them around his waist. Harry rests one of his elbows beside Louis’ head and his other hand continues to grip onto Louis’ waist.
When they kiss, they kiss opposite to how they’re fucking- slow and long, like they’ve got all the time in the world. Louis scratches his chipped nails down Harry’s back, reopening the old wounds created from the last time they’d fucked like this- dirty and fast and exciting. Harry sucks bruises into Louis’ skin and tires to ignore the way that he’s burning up- becoming sore, even. He ignores it, and continues to suck even more bruises over all the old ones as Louis moans loudly below him, nails digging further into the skin on Harry’s back.
They’re reopening wounds, re-bruising bruises that had just began to fade, and whatever metaphor that is, Harry doesn’t like it. He flips them over so that Louis’ on top and when he blinks at Harry, dazed with bright blue eyes, it takes all the self-control left in him not to cry.
He loves this man so much; it overwhelms him all the time.
Louis wiggles his hips a little bit before slowly starting to move up and down on Harry’s cock. He’s gripping onto Harry’s thighs to give him more support as he grinds to the mellow beat of ‘Sunday’ by Earl Sweatshirt featuring Frank Ocean.
“Want to wreck you.” Louis tells him, never tearing his gaze off of Harry. His hands move to rest over the butterfly tattoo right in the middle of Harry’s torso and slowly, he begins sliding them further down so that they’re resting above the olive branches tattooed on his hipbones. “Want it to burn for days.” He slurs, dropping his head back past his shoulders.
Harry lets out a whimper that’s loud enough to make Louis smirk, sending more shockwaves of pure pleasure coursing through his body. Louis continues to fuck himself on Harry’s cock and when Harry tries to buck his hips up, Louis shakes his head and taps his finger against Harry’s nose. He moves his hips faster, leaning down to kiss the tattoos littered all over Harry’s upper body.
“I love you I love you.” He whispers over every tattoo he can reach, before kissing each of Harry’s collarbones. He moves up and down fast, clenching his arse and smirking at the sound of Harry crying out instead of him.
“Baby,” Louis whines, hands cupping Harry’s jaw gently. He drops his head onto Harry’s shoulder when Harry’s cock brushes against his prostate and stutters out a; “God, fuck, yes.”
Harry’s head is fuzzy with pleasure. Louis’ lovely and so sexy, and Harry wants him for the rest of his entire life. Louis raises both of his hands up to tug on his own hair and Harry lifts himself up on both of his elbows to watch his cock move in and out of Louis’ arse. He then continues to drink in the delicious sight of Louis’ sweaty body as he brings his gaze up to Louis’ face.
“You’re incredible.” Harry tells him, watching Louis grind down harder and match the movement of his hips to the fast beat of the song playing. Harry’s mind is foggy with lust and his legs and arms feel weak. Louis’ letting out these breathy moans and sharp gasps of Harry’s name that make him feel dizzy with emotion.
Louis surges down to kiss him hard and they stay like that for a while, with Louis’ hands cupping Harry’s jaw. When he starts kissing Harry’s neck, a familiar heat pools in his lower stomach that makes him start to breath heavier. “Jesus, fuck.” Harry moans loudly, taking one hand off Louis’ hips to grip the sheets. He drops onto his back and bares his neck further back to allow more access for Louis to mark him even more.
Loving Louis is so difficult but so hard not to do. Harry loves him so much- loves all of him. And he tells Louis this while he’s cumming into him. He chants his name out into the musky air they’ve created around them. Louis kisses him again, harder and more passionately.
“Jerk me off Hazza.” Louis sobs out, sitting up straight and running a shaky hand through his dishevelled hair as he bounces up and down on Harry’s cock faster.
Harry groans at the over-sensitivity. He shakes his head and tells him “no. I want you to cum untouched for me. I know you can sweetheart, you’re always so fucking good for me.”
Despite his obvious desperate, Louis sighs and nods his head. He’s too worn out to argue even though Harry knows he wants to.
Picking up the pace, Harry begins to thrust into him faster and harder, taking charge once again, and Louis begins to cry again as Harry brutally charges at his prostate over and over again. He arches his back and moves his hands back to hold onto Harry’s knees, head hanging back. His body jolts up at every thrust and his mouth is open in a silent scream, eyes screwed shut.
When he starts to get louder, Harry fits his thumb right next to his cock inside Louis and Louis falls forward, head tucking into the crook of Harry’s neck. There’s pre-cum leaking out of his cock and even Harry is desperate for him to cum. “C’mon sweetheart, let go.”
It’s known by everyone that Louis isn’t the type of person who enjoys listening to orders. However, when Harry tells him to cum, he does. It’s with a sharp cry of Harry’s name, which is followed by an unbelievably sexy moan as he throws his head back and bears his clenched teeth, ejaculating all over his and Harry’s chest.
He takes a sharp breath of air and shudders when Harry’s hand wraps around his cock. Harry jerks him off through his orgasm, until the last spurt of cum oozes from his now limp cock. His body relaxes against Harry’s and he raises his hand to wipe the tears drying on his cheeks.
Harry holds him close to his chest, despite how dirty and sweaty they are. He kisses Louis’ hairline and gently moves Louis off of him, grimacing quietly when Louis winces. He’s too weak to protest though, and all Harry wants is for Louis to be comfortable. So he moves them around so that Harry’s chest is pressed to Louis’ back, and he wraps his arm around Louis’ waist.
He’s so tired. There isn’t enough energy in him to pick the blanket up from the floor and cover their bodies with it. Plus, they’re burning up and the room is too. He tangles their legs together and ignores the way Louis grunts in refusal. To quieten him, Harry kisses the sharp curve of his shoulders.
Louis yawns. “I am so in love with you.” He manages to say as his chest deflates and a gush of air leaves his mouth.
He’s asleep before Harry can reply.
*
They sleep until seven pm, and at seven thirty they’ve got to wake up and shower.
Louis’ got work tonight, unfortunately. He dresses himself in all black whereas Harry slips into tight denim jeans, a plain white long-sleeved top, and a vintage, beige, suede, heavy bomber jacket that was bought for him by Lottie last year, on his twentieth birthday.
“Can’t believe I’ve got to work tonight.” Louis complains, bent down on the floor because he’s lacing up the laces of his Vans. “I can barely fucking walk.”
Harry attempts at comforting him but Louis just sighs and stands up straight. His face twists into a grimace at the pain that shoots up his spine. Harry bites his lip to stop from smirking, and with bright eyes he watches Louis throw on a fitted black leather jacket and then pat his pockets for a lighter- most probably.
“Shut up.” He spits out, looking up at Harry with glassy blue eyes. He takes a step forward and stops, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again. “Jesus baby, d’you how sore my arse is going to be for, like, ever?”
Harry’s attention is on Pussy, who’s circling through and around his legs. “Sorry,” he says, laughing. The apology is half-arsed, which might be because he doesn’t actually care. In fact, he’s quite proud of his abilities.
Louis scoffs, catching onto his insincerity. “Wow, that’s the nicest apology I’ve ever heard.”
Harry’s eyes flicker up and a coy smirk spreads across his still swollen lips. “You were begging for it.” He tells Louis, voice low and raspy. He notices the way Louis’ face falls and laughs at the crimson red blush that spreads across his cheeks.
“Oh fuck right off.”
Harry shrugs his shoulders and tucks two cigarettes behind each of his ears. He holds his hand out for Louis to take and internally dances when the Louis laces their fingers together.
“I loved it, okay? And I love you. Now lets go because I’m sure everyone’s growing impatient already.”
“I’m surprised they aren’t in the kitchen.”
“I locked the door.”
Louis chuckles and presses his lips to his shoulder. “We’re meant to be together. Jesus Harold, you’re a genius.”
Harry smiles and tugs them to the front door. “Blah, blah- I’m amazing. I know.” He opens the door and makes space for Louis to leave first. “But we need to go.”
Every second Monday, Thursday and Friday Louis leaves the apartment at night to go downtown and check in to his job at a really cool bar Harry still doesn’t know the name of, by heart.
Louis hates it there- there’s always too many people and considering the amount of idiots he has to deal with in one night, he doesn’t get paid enough at all.
It’s become a tradition that Harry and all their friends accompany him as well. Monday, Thursday and Friday are compulsory outing days where him, Louis and all their stupid friends are forced out of their flats by a dumb pact Louis made them make, to sit together and argue for a couple of hours. It’s always so amusing.
Pussy puts her paws on Louis’ feet and meows loudly to get his attention. Her attempt is successful because Louis bends down and holds her head in his hands as he kisses her nose, cooing softly. “We’ll be back soon.” He tells her, stroking her fur. “I’ll bring you some food because I love you so much!”
Harry suddenly grows impatient- even more than before. “Fuck, Louis, let’s leave!” He snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. Louis stops stroking Pussy’s fur and stands up straight, turning his head to look at Harry with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Don’t fucking speak to me like that.” He snaps back, even rougher.
“Your shift is starting soon.” Harry replies. He barely flinches underneath Louis’ gaze.
Louis walks towards him and stands in front of him as Pussy walks away. “And?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. He eyes Harry and his lips twitch into a smile. “Calm down daddy.” He teases, eyes bright with amusement. He forces his hand into Harry’s and laughs when Harry rolls his eyes in annoyance.
They finally make it out the apartment and Harry closes the door behind him, locking it too. “Did you bring condoms?” he asks, putting the key into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Because we actually use those.” Louis deadpans.
Harry laughs. “Lube?”
Louis makes a big show of shoving his hands into his jeans and pulling out nothing. His eyes widen dramatically and he groans loudly. “How am I supposed to fit an entire pocket of fucking lube in my damn pockets Harry?” Jesus!”
It takes them both by surprise when Niall cuts in and says; “you could’ve taken a sachet. They tell those.” Both of them had no idea he was there and when they turn around, everyone is actually waiting for them around the stairs. Louis snorts.
“I want to get fucked.” He says casually, always unsurprised by his friends dumb actions.
“Are you not sore?” Eleanor asks incredulously. Her eyebrows are raised up high in disbelief. “Fucking hell mate, the entire world already heard you beg for it once, not again Lou.”
“Yeah!” Danielle chips in, backing up Eleanor- as always. “You’re the biggest slag ever.” She laughs, narrowing her eyes at him. Louis smiles at her sarcastically and raises his middle finger at her.
Sophia flicks her newly died blonde hair over her bony fingers and asks; “did your mum not teach you basic hygiene?”
Louis laughs. “She did, actually. But, that’s the thing isn’t it?” he exclaims, opening his arms out wide. “I mean, what’s the point of throwing out everything my mum taught me about basic hygiene if I’m not going to flush it all down the drain in one go? Like, shit guys, getting fingered in a public toilet is totally unhygienic but getting fucked is not.”
For some damn reason, everyone nods their heads as if what Louis’ just said is the greatest bullshit they’ve heard in their entire lives. And it’s so fucking infuriating, to be honest. Harry looks at Louis completely opposite to how everyone’s looking at him and swallows down the urge to punch him half away across the world. He’s so goddamn annoying and embarrassing.
“Anyway!” Niall shouts, clapping his hands. “Can we start moving?”
Louis opens his mouth to say something and Harry knows he wants to say something really rude but, being the amazing boyfriend that he is, Harry presses his hand against Louis’ mouth and gives everyone a big, fat, goofy smile. “Sure!”
Everyone charges down the stairs. The air is charged with excitement. Louis looks at him when everyone’s far away from them and scoffs. “You’re so unnecessary.”
Harry pinches Louis’ arse, making him jump up and glare at him. “That wasn’t what you were saying when I had my tongue in your arse.”
Louis takes an accidental stumble down the stairs and crashes into Liam, who doesn’t even try to act like he cares whether or not Louis’ hurt- just laughs loudly, especially when Louis cries out in pain because of his arse.
“Are you getting us free drinks?” Perrie asks once they’ve stepped outside. It’s freezing and the sky is midnight blue. The floor is covered in thick snow and she pushes herself up against Zayn, hands shaking as she lights a cigarette. Zayn smiles, mouth presses against Perrie’s beanie. When he glances up, he looks gaze with Louis.
And Louis, being the over dramatic- and very loud- person that he is, rolls his eyes so far back that Harry wants to ask whether or not he saw his own brain. “What the fuck?” he asks, jutting his hip to the side. He narrows his eyes at Perrie who laughs cutely and asks her; “what kind of person do you even take me for?” Perrie hands her cigarette to Zayn and giggles, mimicking Louis when he widens his eyes comically at her. “Ugh, all of you are useless.” He sighs, shaking his head and pressing his arse back up against Harry’s crotch. “Let’s start walking, yeah?” He says over the sound of Harry’s low grunt. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes before my shift starts.”
*
Louis ends up being late by over ten minutes. But only because he forced everyone to stop for an ice-lolly, which is, whatever- it’s not like Harry could’ve changed his mind anyhow. Anyway, when they arrive they find that Jake and Josh, Louis’ co-workers, have already covered for him and Louis presses sloppy kisses all over their faces in over excitement.
“Whoa, fuck, calm down!” Jake shouts, laughing and craning his neck back so Louis can stop kissing him. He shoves Louis away and watches Louis cringe in pain when his back hits the edge of the table. “Go put on your apron, you little shit.”
Louis shoots him a dirty look and quickly turns around. He limps off to the storage room where they put their things and does a good job at ignoring all the crude remarks his friends throw his way. Everyone laughs when he returns, adorning a cute scowl on his face.
As usual, the bar is absolutely packed with students and older people. Niall, Barbara, Harry, Zayn, Perrie, Liam, Sophia, Danielle and Eleanor find a row of chairs right by the bar. They all sit next to their partners, except for Harry, who ends up sitting next to Niall and Barbara.
Louis’ gone off to serve desperate people hoping to loose all their inhibitions tonight with each shot they take. Harry’s so taken away by how at ease Louis seems with everyone he serves- how charismatic and effortlessly charming he is. Harry can’t take his eyes off of him. He spends four whole minutes just watching Louis move around and laugh with strangers, entertaining a whole bunch of people with his bright, magnetic and beautiful fucking personality.
The girls Louis’ serving look way too young to be knocking back the drinks they have in front of them on a Monday night. When Harry shouts his name over the music, leaning over the counter, Louis turns around immediately and excuses himself before practically skipping over to Harry with a wide grin on his narrow face.
“Hey!” He exclaims, swinging a black towel over his shoulder. “Did you miss me?” he asks playfully, leaning on the counter with his elbows to bump his nose against Harry’s.
“I always miss you.”
They stare at each other for a couple of seconds before Louis’ pulling him in for a kiss, arm wrapping around Harry’s neck. The kiss is filthy and hot, and Louis’ got a handful of Harry’s hair in his fist.
It’s only when Jake’s pulling Louis away that Harry gets a chance to breathe. Which is, like, really great and everything but Harry didn’t want to stop kissing Louis. He groans and meets Jake’s playful gaze. His eyes are bright and electric green under the luminous lights above them.
“Not here.” He tells them, laughing. “Not in front of all these people. Jesus, I understand being in love with somebody, but you two are really fucking insane.”
Harry moves his gaze to Josh, Jake’s boyfriend, who’s standing behind him and shakes his head. “Mate.”
Josh raises a thick eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Y’know, Zee posted a pretty graphic voice note of you and Lou fucking, on the group chat.”
Jake, who still has an arm around Louis’ waist, is now busy having a conversation with Sophia. However, when he hears the topic Josh has just brought up, his attention is brought back to the two of them immediately. He grins widely and drags Louis with him as he gets closer to Harry and Josh. “Yeah, dude, fuck, you two really go at it don’t you?” he says in his thick American accent.
“That’s rich coming from a Porn Star.” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes.
Eleanor clears her throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Can we have shots?” She asks and immediately, Niall is nodding his head- agreeing with her. Harry and Louis always like to joke about how the two of them are legitimately up and coming alcoholics. It’s hard not to feel bad when they witness things like this
“Oh, yes, fuck!” Louis shouts, untangling his body from Jake’s grip. “Sorry guys.” He apologizes. He scampers off to make nine shots with the help of Jake right behind him. When he bends over, Harry’s eyes fall to admire his arse and he hears Zayn snicker.
“That’s a nice butt.” Barbara comments, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder and staring at Louis’ arse too. The silence created around all of them is broken when Harry laughs and nods his head.
“Tell me about it.”
Louis turns his head around to look at them over his shoulder as he’s bent over. He stands up straight and looks at them again, eyes narrowed. “Idiots.” He mouths, shaking his head in disappointment. There’s a faint smile on his face though and it only widens when he lays down the shots In front of all of them. Jake puts down a side-plate with lemon and salt next to each glass.
Harry knocks his back at the same time as everyone else. Jake, Josh and Louis do the same secretly, under the table. They resurface with grimaces on their faces and they all groan in unison, sucking on the lemon straight away.
‘Slow’ by Mount Kimbie starts to play and Danielle squeals in excitement. She stands up and in the midst of her excitement; pulls Eleanor in for a hungry kiss- open mouthed and everything, like they haven’t touched in days. Harry looks away.
“You gays are insatiable.” Niall voices out loud, shaking his head and pulling a face of disgust. Harry throws his head back and laughs loudly.
Louis drops his head down on the table and laces his fingers with Harry’s, chuckling. He looks up again and meets Niall’s gaze with bright eyes. “I know right?” he says, grinning. “We’ve got no fucking shame at all.”
Jake returns from just having served someone. His eyes light up and he tilts his head to the side. The tattoo on his neck glimmers under the dimmed lights and he smiles mischievously. “Didn’t know Harry was such a control freak in bed.” He says. “I would’ve never thought that Louis was such a sub.”
If looks could kill, Jake would’ve been six foot deep in the ground by now. The glare Louis’ sending his way is terrifying. “Don’t fucking start with me.” He threatens, lifting a finger and pointing it in Jake’s direction. “Because I’ll fucking tear you apart and we both don’t need that tonight, okay?”
Liam snorts against Sophia’s shoulder before lifting his head up to look at Harry. “Fuck Haz, ‘c’mon.” He moans, impersonating Louis with a smirk on his face.
Sophia adds on by saying, “Pull your legs up to your chest love.” She says, deepening her voice to try and match Harry’s. “Fuck.”
Josh chuckles and rubs his arm, fingers digging into his tattoos- a habit he’s had for years now. His gaze switches to Louis’ and he says; “not to be weird or anything, but that actually sounds quite hot.”
Eleanor is fiddling with Danielle’s hair. She nods her head. “It really was.”
Zayn takes a gulp of a beer he’s just opened and nods his head too; eyes fluttering close for a little before opening again. “It defiantly was.”
Niall chortles and furrows his eyebrows, staring at Zayn with wide eyes. “You’re so straight.”
“And? Fuck you mate. Honestly, if someone’s having extremely dirty sex next door, I have every right to judge it and appreciate it if it’s worth appreciating. The walls aren’t exactly soundproof. Wow, the one time I compliment other people besides Pez I get shat on.”
Josh and Jake leave to go work, and shortly after them Louis leaves too. The rest of them fall into an amusing conversation, and somewhere in between to boisterous laughter and never-ending (free) drinks, Niall blurts out that Barbara and him are engaged.
Which everyone knew already, but they’re good enough friends to act like they didn’t. Eleanor screams praises at the couple and Harry rolls his eyes, heart beating too fast in his chest. He’s suddenly overcome by how much he loves his friends.
He loves listening to Zayn’s snarky side comments and Eleanor’s rude jokes. He loves the way Barbara and Niall love each other- loud and over whelming. He loves the way Perrie laughs, the way she hides her smile into the crook of Zayn’s neck- as if he’s the only person in the world who can hear her laughter. He loves the way Danielle exists, the way she loves and laughs- so unafraid. He loves the way Sophia speaks and the way Liam looks at her, like she’s created a world where the two of them can live alone together and love as hard as they want to. He loves Louis. He loves him a lot.
Harry has no idea what he’d be right now if it weren’t for all these crazy, wild, people he surrounds himself with everyday. They co-exist around each other and it’s beautiful.
Barbara’s head falls onto his shoulder and Harry glances down at the cocktail she’s sipping. He kisses her head and she flashes a quick, bright smile, before sitting up straight.
“I love you.” She tells him.
Harry pats her jean-clad thighs and gives her a lopsided smile. “Love you too Barbie.”
She turns her head to look at Niall and her ponytail slaps Harry across the face, hard. He stares at the back of her head in shock. When he turns his body to converse with Perrie and Zayn, they’re making out. And when he searches for Danielle and Eleanor, he see’s them walking to the bathroom giggling and holding hands. He doesn’t even want to think about what they’re going to do. Sophia and Liam are outside, having a smoke.
Fuck. Where is Louis? Why did he befriend people who are in dating each other?
*
Louis comes twirling back to the side of the bar they’re all sitting in. It’s been an hour since Harry’s last seen him and he’s sweaty, just a little bit tired, and still incredibly buzzed. He’s the first to laugh when Barbara asks Jake how it feels to be ‘an actual, legitimate’ Porn Star.
“Doesn’t it freak you out when you realize that you’ve most probably fucked a third of the human race?” She asks, blinking at Jake with large blue eyes. Her head is resting on Niall’s shoulder and her hair is covering the love bites she’s got scattered across her chest and shoulders.
Jake glances at Josh quickly, and see’s that he’s laughing with a bunch of boys further down. “It’s weird,” he says, turning his gaze at Barbara. He shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, of course, but it pays the bills. I don’t want to end it with Josh. He’s cool.”
“He’s cool?” Sophia chortles, making a face. “It’s okay to use the word love, baby face, nobody will kill you.”
Jake rolls his eyes and bites back a grin. “Shut up. I love him. There, I said it, happy now?”
While everyone breaks into laughter, topic diverting to something Harry frankly isn’t interred in, his eyes land on Josh. He’s chasing Louis around and Louis keeps turning around to hiss at Josh while also attempting to dodge the cloth Josh keeps using to try and whack Louis’ arse.
They end up running back to everyone, and Josh runs straight into Jake’s arms, engulfing him in a hug and kissing him. “Hey love!” he greets once they pull away from each other, grinning and panting heavily. “What were you guys talking about?” he asks, turning his attention to Barbara and rolling his eyes subtly when Jake kisses him on the forehead.
“Nothing.” Sophia answers. “Barbara is just being nosy again.”
Barbara snickers and Josh turns his attention to her, eyebrows raised in expectancy. “How does it feel to date a Porn Star?” she asks him, blatantly ignoring what Sophia’s just said.
Josh’s eyes widen. “Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting that.” He tells her, laughing. “It’s a little weird, though.” He says. “But he’s been doing it since he was eighteen and I can’t jus tell him to stop, y’know? It pays well too, and the sex is great.”
Perrie grunts. “People need to stop talking about their sex lives so often. No one bloody cares.”
“Excuse me!” Eleanor cackles, throwing her head back. She shakes her finger from left to right and says; “But you, Patricia Edwards, are not important enough to speak for all of England about whether no one cares, or not. Because I do.”
“You get off on everyone’s sex life.” Zayn deadpans, not even looking at her. She nods her head shamelessly and Barbara high-fives her.
“You’re right, I do.” She confirms proudly. Her attention moves to Louis and Harry, who are both in their own conversation- laughing and holding hands over the counter. “Aww,” she coos, “look at the love birds. So disgustingly obsessed with each other it’s, well, disgusting. Can you guys even go ten minutes without looking at each other?”
Niall slams his drink on the table and throws his hands up in the air. They all stare at him, laughing. “You accent always takes me so off guard.” He exclaims, looking at Eleanor.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s so … posh. Like, insanely posh. Harry’s too! It’s like he’s come out of some Jane Eyre novel.”
Louis raises one eyebrow and snickers. “That’s a bit of an over-exaggeration, don’t you think? Harry swears after every second word. I doubt that’s very posh.”
Eleanor laughs and jabs her finger into Harry’s dimple. He turns to look at her as she says; “I was born and raised in Chelsea, mate. Well, up until my bible-thumping parents disowned me fresh out of high-school for being a hard core, pussy eating lesbian.”
Danielle snickers and tightens her hold on Eleanor’s hand. She’s released her hair from the tight bun it had been in before and now the ringlets frame her face beautifully. “Yeah.” She says, blinking her eyes. They look amber under all these flashing lights. “I’m you’re your parents were ecstatic when they walked in on you eating out your boyfriend’s sister.”
As if she’s never heard the story before, Sophia gasps like she does every time and pats Eleanor on the shoulder. “Now that’s fucking hard core.” She tells her, nodding her head in pride.
Harry glances at Louis and then at Eleanor, who shoots him a quick wink followed by a sly smile that tugs at the corners of her plump, pink lips. “My parents haven’t called me in almost four years because I told them I liked it up the arse.”
Louis laughs and hits him on the arm. “How poetic of you.” He says before rolling his eyes. “Stop being so cynical!” he whines, looking between Eleanor and Harry. “I can’t have negative energy around me right now.” He tells them, making over-dramatic hand gestures. “I’m in a really good mood.”
As expected, Liam is the first to grin. Louis gives him a sharp glare, as if daring him to just spit out whatever shit he’s about to say.
“I’d be surprised if you weren’t in a … good mood. I mean, honestly, I wouldn’t if I had gotten fucked the way you did. You practically moved the entire apartment block by, like, a square inch to the left.”
Niall howls with laughter and jolts so hard he hits his head on the counter. Harry shoots a cold look at Liam and gets a smug smirk in return. For someone who’s meant to be so nice and sweet, Liam’s quite the undercover arsehole.
“You’re such a piece of shit.” Harry tells him, shouting over the music. Liam nods his head and mouths at him to fuck off.
Zayn puts his hands flat on the table when he sees Harry open his mouth to reply to what Liam’s just said. He clears his throat loud enough to catch people’s attention and says; “Okay, we get it- but can we have some more drinks now?” he asks, staring at Louis only with a small smile on his face. “Some of us aren’t as drunk as we’d like to be.”
*
It’s twelve thirty in the morning and Harry’s drunk.
The bar is more packed and ‘What They Want’ by Schoolboy Q featuring 2 Chainz is playing loudly on the stereos. Harry’s entire body is vibrating.
The only problem Harry’s got currently is that he hasn’t seen Louis in over forty-five minutes. And he understands that Louis’ got to work, but fuck, he’s going a little bit crazy- which sounds crazy- but he gets a little lost when Louis’ not with him for a long time. The man is every though, entertaining people and making them good cocktails. Plus, they all had to move to a booth after Perrie had gotten a drink thrown at her by a girl who accused Perrie of spilling her drink all over her on purpose.
She’s still pissed off and hasn’t opened her mouth since. Not like Harry cares at all, because right now he’s set on living in the present. So when Zayn makes a joke, he laughs the hardest and he doesn’t even flinch when Barbara squeezes his cheeks and squeals about cute he is.
“You’re fucking adorable!” She tells him, voice slurred and higher-pitched than normal. Her Hungarian accent is more accentuated than normal and Niall keeps looking at her like he wants to tear her apart. It’s disgusting, really.
Harry shoves her away and she falls, back hitting Niall’s chest. Her head falls onto his shoulder and he kisses her forehead, which is exactly when Harry decides to look away and search for Louis, through the many people crowding his view.
When Harry see’s that Louis isn’t working at the bar, his heart falls to the pit of his stomach and his face twists into an automatic frown.
“I’m not dead love.” A voice speaks, cutting him off his thoughts. “Stop worrying.”
Harry looks up and blushes when Louis kisses his cheek and slips onto his leg, pressing his back against Harry’s chest. He missed Louis- he always does. He’s so happy that they’re together again, as childish as that may sound.
After greeting everyone, Louis snuggles even more against Harry and relaxes his body. “Did you miss me?” He asks, breathe hot against the side of Harry’s face. He already knows the answer to his question, and doesn’t even wait for Harry to respond before he’s holding the tray in his hand higher for everyone to see. “I’ve got booze!”
“Fuck yeah!” Sophia slurs, leaning over the table to pat him on the cheek, making Louis chuckle. He places a cocktail in front of everyone, except for Harry, who frowns deeply when he notices.
“What about me?”
There’s two shots left on the tray that Louis knocks back shamelessly, right in front of Harry. He isn’t even surprised.
Louis’ face scrunches up as the liquid burns his throat. He shakes his head quickly, smacking his lips together, before turning his head slightly back to look at Harry. “You’ve drank enough,” He states, turning his body around so they’re facing each other and his back s to everyone else. “And I’ve barely drank anything.” He smirks, eyes twinkling. “Plus, I still want to blow you later.” He whispers hotly into Harry’s ear, tangling his fingers in his hair. ‘Your dick still needs to function.”
Harry lets out an involuntary moan and cranes his neck up, allowing Louis to nip and suck at the hot skin there. “Oh fuck, okay.”
Louis laughs. “If I told you to jump off a cliff, would you?”
“I think so, probably.” Harry tells him, smiling tiredly with his eyes closed. Louis’ fingers trace his ears and he sighs in content. “I would, if it made you happy- if you did it with me. Does that sound crazy?”
Louis laughs and shakes his head. “I could tell you to jump off a cliff and you would wouldn’t you?”
Louis shakes his head. “No- not at all. But I’d never take you for granted like that. Ever.”
“I know sweetheart.” Harry replies softly, opening his eyes a little. “You’ve got a big heart, despite what people think.”
*
Always one to keep his promises, Louis manages to sneak Harry to a room at the back of the bar and successfully manages to suck him off until Harry’s forced to pull him up because he was about to cry from the oversensitivity.
He then lifts Louis up against the cold walls and fucks him so hard that Louis actually cries. But, they’ll keep that to themselves.
And to be honest, if you look at it from a different perspective, it’s quite romantic.
*
At two am, Louis’ shift finally ends. Harry kisses him sloppily against a brick wall outside. Louis grips onto Harry’s top and pulls away to nuzzle his head into the crook of Harry’s neck. “I’m so cold.” He whispers, breathe fanning over the sensitive skin on Harry’s neck, making him shiver. “I want to go home.” He tells him, yawning. “Let’s go home. I want to check if my baby is still alive.”
Trying his luck, Harry asks; “Can I fuck you again.”
To which Louis replies with an immediate “no.”
Harry understands, but he still congratulates himself for trying. They’ve all moved outside and everyone’s in their own mindless conversation with one another. It’s so fucking cold and Harry wants to go home too- wants to wrap himself in thick blankets, and Louis, and even Pussy.
Reading his mind, Danielle speaks up and says; “let’s go home.” She’s pressed up against Eleanor, who has her arms wrapped around Danielle’s slim waist. “I’m freezing.” She comments just as Eleanor tucks a loose strand of frizzy hair behind her studded ears.
Zayn is the first to agree and when they leave, they shout their goodbyes to Josh and Jake who live on the other side of London- the good side. Harry had no idea that being a Porn Star paid so well.
“Can I have a cigarette?” Harry asks Louis, breaking the silence that’s formed between the two of them.
“Check behind your ears love. ‘M sure you put two there before we left.”
Harry swipes his fingers behind his ear and grins when he finds one. He makes them stop so that Louis can light it up for him. Harry’s staring at Louis’ eyelashes while Louis stares at Harry’s mouth. Despite his vision still being a little blurry, it’s still very obvious that Louis is so beautiful- especially when he’s illuminated by the streetlight they’re standing underneath.
His leather jacket is resting on his shoulders. He was too lazy to slip his arms through both sleeves, and when he looks up to meet Harry’s gaze, his cheeks turn pink. Louis’ eyes are grey and Harry’s overwhelmed by the smirk on his face.
“You’re very beautiful.” Harry tells him. Louis steps back and Harry inhales sharply as Louis laces their hands together. They slowly start to move towards their friends who are way ahead of them.
“And you are very drunk.” Louis replies, laughing and bumping their hips together. He stares down at his shoes and bites on his bottom lip. “But thank you. You’re also very lovely.” He says, pecking Harry’s shoulder and snuggling against him when Harry’s arms lay across Louis’ shoulders.
The cigarette Harry’s smoking is now being held between his fingers. It’s hanging off of Louis’ shoulder and Louis opens his mouth a little, his way of telling Harry that he’d also like a drag. Harry lifts the cigarette and fits it into Louis’ mouth, watching him inhale slowly. He keeps his gaze trained on Harry.
“I’m not that drunk anymore.” Harry tells him, kissing the top of his head. “I sobered up after you sucked me off until I almost cried.”
Louis chokes in the middle of exhaling and Harry pats his back as they fall into laughter together. London is always at it’s most beautiful when it’s night time- when the streetlights are glimmering and the snow is melting beneath their shoes with every step they take- when the city looks as if it’s been covered by a thick white velvet blanket.
They reach the rest of their friends sooner than Harry had wanted and he’s shocked when he realises how quiet everyone is- something that rarely happens when they’re all together. The air around them is calm, for a while, before Barbara’s suddenly throwing herself onto Niall. She gives him a kiss he hadn’t even been expecting and when they pull away from each other, there’s purple lipstick smudged all over his mouth.
Everyone laughs, despite not knowing the reasoning behind his or her laughter. Harry knows that family is supposed to feel like this. They feed off each other’s energy and build each other up, and it’s so fucking beautiful.
“I think it is.” Louis whispers into his ear. They’ve just approached the flat and everyone’s getting buzzed again, high off whatever happiness Niall and Barbara threw at them when they proclaimed their love for each other so loudly without using any words.
Harry looks at Louis but Louis isn’t looking at him. “What?” he asks.
“I think the entire world belongs to us already.” Louis tells him. “We might not really know what to do with yet, but fuck baby. It’s ours. He says. “All of it.”
Louis and Harry congratulate Barbara for her engagement. They act as if they didn’t know before because they’re good friends like that, and when Harry tells her that he’s so, so proud of her, she cries.
When she hugs them, she smells of sweet perfume, second hand smoke and Niall.
“Do you really want to do this?” Louis asks, watching her finger curl around his. She smiles and nods her head quickly.
“Yeah. I do.” She answers without hesitation. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving him.”
“I love you.” Louis tells her. “Both of us do. And don’t, like, fuck I’m awful at this, but don’t doubt us when we tell you we’ve always got your back, okay? Not even Zayn or Pez, who show the same amount of emotion as gold fish do.”
“Which is none.” Harry adds.
Barbara snorts. “I know that. Thanks though.”
“The entire world is rooting for the two of you.”
Barbara laughs sincerely. “My mind feels a bit fuzzy.” She tells them, “and my bones feel a bit heavy.” Her eyes are the darkest shade of blue he’s ever seen on her and Harry hopes that she remembers this moment in the morning. “But I hope so too.” She says, biting her bottom lip. “I really fucking do. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Louis looks at Harry and takes a deep breathe in. “Neither do I.”
*
Louis and Harry fall onto their mattress like the ungraceful people that they are. Louis barely makes it out of his jeans whereas Harry manages to strip down to absolutely nothing, before falling face first onto the mattress. He’s too tired to get into the duvet, despite the cold.
Pussy slides into the thick duvets with them and falls asleep by Harry’s feet. She curls herself into a ball and nudges at Harry’s foot with her paw, as well as Louis’- her way of telling them she loves them.
Before they fall asleep, Harry mumbles out Louis’ name.
Louis squeezes his arm and opens one eye. “Yeah babe?”
Harry shoots him a lazy smile and squints his eyes through the frantic curls falling in front of his face. “You up?”
“For anything.”
They’re going to end the world. They’re going to set the world on fire-maybe even rule the universe someday.
*
January passes by quickly. The ice is still hard on the concrete outside and the electricity it still out. Louis is the biggest nuisance Harry’s ever known and together they’ve raised the world’s grumpiest car.
He’s okay with all of this- weirdly enough.
*
February comes and goes just as quick. He see’s Gemma, Charlotte and Felicite on his birthday, and Skype calls all the aunts and uncles that love him enough to still speak to him. When Jay and Dan tell him that they’re so proud of him, and that they’re always going to be there for him no matter what, Harry cries. He gets nice shoes and expensive wine from the two of them, through Charlotte and Felicite, who have come down from Doncaster to sleep on the ugly couch in their living room.
When the night rolls in, everyone finds himself or herself a spot to sleep in, in the corners of their small apartment. And Louis whispers praises against the scars Harry used to paint on his body.
“I’ll love you forever.” He whispers and Harry believe him.
The snow is still there and it’s still cold outside, but Louis’ warm enough to generate heat to light up the world.
And somehow, they find a way of paying for the electricity bill. Harry gets a job at the new bakery that’s just opened down the road. He works there during his days off of University and it’s great. They’re great.
There’s a brief incident where Pussy scratches Louis across the face for cutting off all her hair. It’s cool though. Harry’s happy and Pussy’s always going to be his little girl.
*
It’s March and London reeks of blooming flowers and hay fever.
It’s also Thursday afternoon, and Harry can’t remember a day when it’d been so bright outside. Louis’ just come out of a lecture and they decided to meet each other in China Town.
They eat and smoke with a few Chinese tourists, who laugh at everything they say and make fun of Harry’s hair. Louis gets bored quickly though, and he drags Harry into an antique shop where he ends up dancing stupidly with his arms raised above his head. When he almost knocks everything to the floor, they get kicked out. Outside, they howl loudly together and walk hand in hand, down the street, underneath the pretty red lanterns hanging above their heads.
“Let’s go on an adventure.” Louis exclaims. They’re sitting on a stair and next to them are a stone lions, roaring nothing. Their feet are locked together and Harry’s head is on Louis’ lap. “Lets run and see where it takes us.”
The sun feels so good. Harry almost fell asleep. “Okay.” He replies softly, blinking softly and lifting his head up. “Okay.”
Before he knows it, they’re running. They’re running so fast. Louis grabs onto Harry’s hand and pulls him through the heaps of people on the street. Every time someone throws an irritated comment at them, Louis looks back to laugh.
It’s hard not to love somebody when there’s so much to love about him or her. Harry can’t be hurt by the harsh words being said to them because he feels on top of the world. That’s how it always is when he’s with Louis. It’s always felt as if it was just the two of them co-existing together on this huge fucking planet.
He feels so young. And he knows that he is, actually, young but sometimes he feels like he’s a thirty-five year old man living in a twenty-one year olds body. And it sucks. It sucks a whole fucking lot, because he stresses all the time about everything and everyone. Louis’ always saying, “Just because you haven’t gotten what you want doesn’t mean it never going to come.”
Harry gets that. But it doesn’t stop everything from hurting the way it does.
They’re so young though. So, so, so young, and he’s always reminded of that every time they do crazy shit like this. He watches Louis jump onto an empty bench and then run across it only to jump into the air as if someone’s holding him up with an imaginary string.
Harry does what Louis does. They turn a sharp corner and he almost tumbles to the ground. He never stops running though. It’s crazy how much adrenaline he’s got pumping through his veins right now. He thinks that if Louis were to want to run all the way to Wales, he’d follow him.
Loving Louis is blissful. It’s exhilarating and awakening. Harry’s so grateful for meeting Louis. They are who they are because of each other.
“You’re such a fucking klutz.” Louis grunts, when they fall onto the floor after Harry crashes into him. His head hits the pavement and Harry’s tongue swiping across his lips. He giggles and helps Louis up when he stands up himself. Louis pats off the dirt from the knees of his worn out skinny jeans and Harry sneaks a touch of his arse, which earns him a cute scowl from Louis. He crosses his arms over the flimsy material of the white, over-sized, button up he’s wearing. The tip belongs to Harry- like all the other tops Louis wears. He refused to let Harry wear the top this morning because he wanted to.
“You love me,” Harry sings, twirling around clumsily. Louis tells him to stop acting like a new born giraffe and Harry laughs, swooping down to attach their lips together.
“We ran all the way to the gallery.” Louis says once they’ve pulled away from each other. “Can you believe that?”
Harry kisses the top of his head and keeps his lips pressed against his forehead. He lifts his gaze up to the museum and chortles. “Not really.” He answers, wrapping his arms around Louis’ body and swaying their bodies side to side. “It’s not like China Town is five thousand kilo metres away.”
Louis sighs. “You’re being a fuck face again.” He tells him before bursting into a fit of hushed giggles. “Shut up, will you?” he asks, pulling Harry up the stairs of the museum until they’re inside. Louis pulls the two of them straight to the Ancient Egyptian section because it’s one of his favourites.
They’ve been here so many times. Harry’s so sure they both know this entire Gallery like they’ve lived here their entire lives.
The Ancient Egyptian section is Louis’ third favourite. His first is Africa and his second favourite is Ancients Greece. Normally they’ll start in order but it seems like that’s not going to happen today.
“That is so fucking sick.” Louis murmurs with his hands spread against the hard glass case in which a mummified body of an Egyptian God lays. Harry is standing next to him, head pressed against the glass. Louis turns his head to look at him and smiles. “This is beautiful, Haz, don’t you think? Like I know I say that every time I come here, but shit.”
And he’s right. The thing is that they’ve been through here and they’ve seen all the same things countless of times, but Louis acts as if it’s the best damn place he’s ever been too every time. It’s awfully endearing.
“And you’re also fucking beautiful.” Harry finds himself blurting out. He closes his mouth right afterwards and they both stare at each other with smiles on their faces. Harry’s cheeks flush red and he turns his head to look back at the mummified body and when he turns his head to look at Louis again, he isn’t looking at Harry anymore.
Louis rolls his eyes and fights back a wider smile. He still doesn’t turn his head to look at Harry. “Can you fucking stop?”
Harry moves his body closer to Louis’. He turns Louis body around so that his back is pressed against the hard glass. Harry kisses Louis on the cheeks first, and laughs at every complaint that leaves Louis’ mouth. He attaches their lips together as an attempt to get Louis to shut up, and rests both his hands on Louis’ cheeks.
Is it always going to feel like this? Is it always going to feel as though they’ve got all the time in the world?
Because Harry would love that- having all the time in the world with Louis sounds like a fucking dream.
They kiss each other as if they haven’t got an entire room of people watching them. There’s a dead human being wrapped in bandages in a bulletproof box behind Louis and Harry’s never loved him more.
“Africa.” Louis mumbles against his lips, pressing his hands flat against Harry’s chest. His eye are already open when Harry opens his, and there’s a tint of pink spread across his cheeks that Harry doesn’t remember seeing before. “I want to go to Africa.” He tells Harry, giving him a small, timid, smile and trying not to look at all the curious gazes around them.
The corners of Harry’s mouth twitch up and his heart stutters in his chest. “Okay.” He answers, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Let’s go to Africa.”
*
The walk to Africa takes longer than usual. Along the way, Louis convinces Harry into sliding down the huge white stairs in the middle of the Gallery and when the guards come charging towards them through the crowd, they immediately start to sprint. They hide in Greece, where Harry snaps a picture of Louis touching the stone breasts of Aphrodite.
They laugh their way to a shop where they sell stuffed animals, and Harry holds up a baby lion and holds it up, impersonating the first scene of the Lion King.
When Harry see’s a toy elephant, he says; “That’s my spirit animal.” Louis throws his head back and laughs loudly, stumbling forward with a baboon in his hands. He leans his head on Harry’s shoulder.
“Why are you lying?” He mumbles into Harry’s shoulder, shaking his head. “You’re more of a Giraffe.” He tells Harry, lifting his head up to gaze up at him. “You can barely walk on your own too feet baby, and you’re way too fucking tall.” He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing again.
Harry scoffs. “Than you’ve got to be a fucking Hyena because you’re way too fucking loud.”
Out of spite- obviously- Louis laughs again. “But I’m also a Tiger.” He says, eyes bright and blue. He’s so beautiful. “And a hyena. I’m a mix of both.” He pauses for a while before continuing. “Meaning that I’m an original, unlike a fucking Elephant. I don’t mind being a Hyena you shit hole, we’re badass and are able to stand up for ourselves all the time.” He tells Harry childishly, eyes narrows at him.
“Giraffes don’t even know how to stand up by themselves once they’ve legitimately fallen. How did you not know that about yourself?”
Harry hates him so much, but when Louis laughs and kisses him, he kisses back.
*
Eventually they get to Africa and immediately Louis starts to spew shit about how he was born in South Africa when he wasn’t.
He awes and sighs at the different traditional hats woman wear on their wedding days and forces Harry to stand next to the Ghanaian flag because the green is the same colour as his eyes.
“Is he yours?” Harry hears an old man ask Louis. His Austrian accent is thick, even from here, and Louis smiles behind the Polaroid camera he’s holding in front of his face.
Louis’ eyes flicker up to meet Harry’s gaze and he laughs at the uncomfortable smile on Harry’s face. He looks back at the man and nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, “he’s mine.”
The old man smiles and sighs softly. He casts his eyes down at his expensive leather shoes and then back at his wife, who whispers something in his ear in Austrian. He looks back at Louis and says,
“My wife says you two are very beautiful together. She says you two must stay beautiful.”
*
Thirty minutes later and they haven’t left Africa. Louis is posing next to a picture of the entire continent of Africa with a gigantic smile on his face and his index finger pointing down at South Africa. Harry can’t help but roll his eyes as he shakes the picture.
“You weren’t born in Africa you tit.”
They than head to Greece again and after that, they run to Native North America where they fool around and look at the head wear. They migrate to Asia, where they spend a long time at because Harry’s so in awe of everything. Before they head to the café for food, they stop in the Middle East.
After two cups of tea and one red velvet cake, they take a stroll to Ancient Rome. It’s been twenty minutes since they’ve arrived and they’ve been looking at the same large necklace since, palms pressed against the glass.
“Apparently,” Harry starts, “Roman men and women used to fuck in churches with olive oil as lube.”
“Really?” Louis hums.
“Yeah.” Harry says, nodding his head. “Like one fat orgy in the name of God.”
Louis’ eyebrows furrow and he sighs, knocking his head against the glass. “You’re a fucking joke.” He tells Harry, turning his head up to look at Harry. “Honestly.”
Harry grins smugly and shrugs, arms spread. His eyes close briefly before opening widely. Louis’ just slapped him across the face! “What-“
“I love you so much.” Louis tells him, cutting him off. He turns his attention back to the jewellery and Harry smiles.
“I love me too.” He answers.
They stare at oil paintings and Louis sneaks photo’s of them even though he isn’t allowed to, to show Zayn. The two of them like to rave on and on about art, and it constantly frustrates Harry because he doesn’t have any interest in art at all. It’s no surprise when he finds himself growing impatient with every second that ticks by. The paintings all look the same. When he tells Louis this, his jaw drops dramatically.
“So sorry I’ve managed to bore you, you boring fucking law student. Some of us like to appreciate beautiful things.”
Harry whines. “My dick is a work of art.” He says, pulling Louis’ arm. “Appreciate that.”
Louis makes a face and eyes him. “Thank you.” He scoffs, “ but I’d rather not.”
*
They get home at seven, watch two movies, and then end up on the kitchen floor, naked and flustered.
Harry’s sitting on top of Louis and his hands are pressed against Louis chest. “Am I worth it?” he whispers breathlessly into Louis’ ear, morning when Louis thrusts into him slowly.
Louis grips onto his hips and thrusts hard into Harry, making him fall forward and bury his head in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Fuck,” he moans.
Harry lifts his head and kisses him like this is the last time they’re ever going to touch it each other.
“Yeah, you are.” He tells Harry, hand curling around the necklaces dangling off of his chest. “You’re so worth it.”
*
Spring brings them a basket full of adventures. April and May are good to them. Two birthdays are celebrated and four graduations happen, from Zayn, Louis, Sophia and Liam.
Summer knocks on their door with money. Louis’ managed to make a huge fucking deal with this publishing company, on their new building in Oxford. They head up there for a couple of days and spend four nights drinking too many glasses of champagne- fucking champagne!!!! - While talking about their future. It’s crazy.
Pussy’s come up with them. She purrs softly and licks the visible skin on Louis’ stomach where she’s sleeping.
There is, “I need you with me all the time.”
Which is followed by a, “You’ve got me with you all the time.”
*
August arrives and Harry tries not to sulk too hard. He’s got about a month, or so, left before University starts and he’s one hundred per cent sure that this has been the best summer of his life.
They spend one day at Josh and Jake’s house, where they fall asleep on the trampoline in the back garden with an unfinished pack of weed between them.
When they go home, it’s still so hot. And at night, when they’re all alone with the music low and all the lights off, they like to hang outside of their bedroom window at two in the morning and chain-smoke until their lungs feel dry.
It’s nice. Harry likes being with Louis like this. He likes not talking about what they’re going to do with the new money Louis’ getting, or what Harry wants to do with his degree in law. He likes talking about dumb shit, like the universe and the strand of hair Louis found in his burger when they went out two nights ago with their friends.
However, Harry feels his heart stop when Louis starts to talk about his parents and about how he knows they’ve been trying to get a hold of him for the past two weeks. They talk about Harry’s parents like they always do and Louis mentions that he knows they’ve been trying to call him for the last two weeks.
“Why haven’t you answered their calls?”
“I’m too scared.”
“Well, I think … I think you should call them back.” Louis suggests, softly. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and once he exhales, he blows the smoke in Harry’s direction. “It’s been so long Haz.”
Harry slumps his shoulders and shudders when Louis’ mouth brushes against his skin. “Exactly.” He mutters. “It’s been so long.” The air is so humid and Louis’ mouth feels ice cold against Harry’s shoulder. Above them, the moon is big and bright and full and so beautiful. Below them, the streets are empty.
Harry’s hands are shaking. Louis presses another kiss to his shoulder.
“We can go up tomorrow, if you want. I’m not rushing you, or forcing you, but god Haz. They’re your parents.”
“Lou-“
“-No.” Louis says, cutting him off. “I really want you to do this.” He says. His voice is soft and warm. “Do this this me. Do this for you. Actually, fuck, don’t even do this for me at all. You need this- we both know that.”
Harry finds himself relighting another cigarette with shaking hands and a tremendously big heart that feels stuck in his throat. “I want to do this by myself.” He murmurs, not looking at Louis, but down at the deserted street below them.
“Are you sure?”
Harry tries to smile but, suddenly, his bones hurt too much to even breathe. “Aren’t I always?”
*
It’s a new morning. A new day has dawned upon Harry and he feels fifteen again, waking up in the morning wishing he hadn’t.
All his friends wish him good luck at the train station, and nobody kisses him goodbye the way Louis does when he kisses him hard, with his hands pressed against Harry’s face. When Harry gets onto the train, all he sees a blur of smiles and waves. However, when his eyes meet Louis’, his Golden Boy is standing there, in the middle of the chaos their friends are creating, with so much pride in his vivid eyes Harry’s got to look away. He’ll stay if he doesn’t. He knows he will.
*
Two hours pass, and before Harry knows it he’s back in Holmes Chapel. Everything still looks the same and smells the same, and Harry still hates this place.
It’s not as hot as it is in London. That doesn’t mean that it’s not hot at all. Harry slides off the bandana from his head and shakes his hair, letting the soft curls fall in front of his face now. He’s a little sweaty and the air is way too humid.
Gemma tries to call him multiple times, after he asks her where their- her- parents live. He doesn’t answer any of them. He doesn’t want to answer questions he doesn’t even know the answers too.
*
It’s the tenth of August and it’s been so long.
It’s six pm when he finds himself standing in front of the same brown door he swore to never return to so many years ago. The numbers ‘thirty-four’ have been painted on it in blue, not green like it used to be. On both sides of the door are two pot plants and through the door, Harry can smell the roast chicken being cooked.
Harry never imagined that knocking on a door would be so hard, but turns out it can be. He’s currently running on adrenaline, so when he knocks on the door quickly it takes all the pent up energy stored inside of him not to run away- especially when he hears someone walking to open the door.
The door opens and his mum appears as beautiful as he left her. Her hair is loose and it falls down her shoulders in easy waves. When her eyes meet Harry’s, the smile on her face drops.
Victoria Dunn is still so spectacular. Even after all the mistakes she’s made. His mother is still so beautiful.
“Harry.” She breathes out, opening the door even wider and stepping closer to him. She raises her hand to touch him but he moves away, eyes wide. “Sweetheart.” She says, dropping her hand.
And all Harry can think is good. His eyes glance to the hand she was going to touch him with that is now gripping the soft material of her floral dress. She doesn’t deserve to touch him anymore. A man made of gold now loves him and she does not have the privilege of even looking at him anymore.
But here he stands, in front of her, as vulnerable as the day he was born, and he can’t believe how much he’s missed her.
Harry tries to smile but he can’t, and Victoria- or his ‘mum’- must notice this because she winces. “Hello.” He greets formally.
She still looks the same, is the problem. And all these memories come back to him- memories of her laughing and singing to him, memories of her promising that she’d always be there for him no matter what. All these fucking memories and promises that meant nothing come rushing back to him and the unbearable feeling of utter pain that brews in his heart is so fucking hard to ignore. The matching paper aeroplane is still hanging around her neck, old and rusty like she’s never taken it off, even after he left.
He wants to tell her that he hasn’t taken his off either- that under this flimsy white top is that same necklace that she bought for the two of them- when they still owned the world together. He wants to tell her that he still loves her, but he won’t, he can’t and he doesn’t.
“It’s hot.” She comments, eyes looking up at the clear blue sky. “Come in,” she tells him, looking back at him with bright eyes. “I’ve just finished making dinner.”
She turns around to walk to the kitchen and Harry closes the door behind him when he comes in. He keeps his eyes trained to the floor and follows her to the dining room, where the dishes have already been laid out. There are three dishes on the table- one for him, his mum and Christ, the stepfather from hell.
“Uhm, sit down Haz-Harry, I mean, sorry. I’ll be right back down, yeah? I’m just going to tell Chris that you’ve arrived now.”
She leaves when he doesn’t reply. Once she’s completely out of his sight, he sits down and pulls his phone out from his pocket.
TOO BOO: Tell me I’m making the right choice.
Five minute later, his phone buzzes with a message from Louis. It’s an image of Zayn, Barbara, Danielle, Perrie, Niall, Sophia, Liam, Eleanor, Nick, Jake, Josh and Pussy. They’re all in their living room, wearing stupid grins on their faces that make Harry’s breath cut short. Louis’ holding a shitty sign that reads, ‘YOU CAN DO IT!!!”
It’s terrifying how much he loves these people.
All the fluttering in his stomach drops when Victoria comes back in, with Christ trailing behind her with the smuggest smile on his face.
“Harold.” Satan greets, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake.
Harry wants to laugh. Instead, he gives him a cold smile and cocks his head to the side. “That’s not my name.” he replies, glancing down at Chris’s hand in disgust then back up at him.
Chris scoffs through the fake smile on his face and says; “still a brat, I see.”
Harry forces himself not to roll his eyes. “Still a fat piece of shit, I see.”
The rest of the dinner isn’t any better. Turns out, Chris’s mouth is still huge and the fresh bruise on the inside of Victoria’s arm when she lefts them to tie her hair, is hard to ignore. Harry says nothing, tears his eyes away from the bruise as quickly as they landed there. This man is the man she’s chosen to love and if this is how she’s chosen to be loved, then Harry can’t do anything. She’s not his mother anymore. They live separate lives now.
“How are you doing In University?”
“Fine.”
“How are your friends?”
“Great.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’ve never been better.”
There are too many questions being thrown at him and Harry can feel himself grow angry. Chris clears his throat, wipes his mouth with an orange napkin and asks; “are you still a faggot?” shamelessly.
It’s not like Harry hadn’t expected a question like that when he was in a train. However, it still shocks him nonetheless, and he’s got to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Until I fucking die.” He replies, before bursting out into hysterical laughter.
Victoria glances down at her half-eaten plate of food in obvious disapproval. She shakes her head and when Harry moves his attention to her, she’s glaring at Chris from underneath her perfectly coated eyelashes.
“Don’t ask my son such questions.” She snaps, voice dangerously low. She sets her fork and knife down on her place.
“He is not your fucking son Victoria.” Chris replies, just as harsh. “He’s a dirty, filthy fag who is going to burn in the pits of hell.”
“At least we’ll have a chance to bond, right?” Harry replies sarcastically, smiling despite the anger burning in every corner of his body. “Me, you and Lou, all together in hell!” He exclaims, grinning now and reaching over the table to place his hands above Chris’s hands. “It’ll be brilliant.”
Chris’s face turns beetroot red and he smacks Harry’s hands off of his. He looks at Victoria, whose eyes are trained on her chicken, before looking at Harry with brown eyes are that almost black. “Lou, as in Louis Tomlinson? The old next-door neighbours faggot son? Heard they moved to Brighton now. Are you happy with who you’ve become Harry?”
The way Chris asks him the last question is enough for Harry to lean over the table and punch him straight on the jaw. He doesn’t realise he’s shouting until he’s stopped and the rawness in his throat makes him want to cry. But he can’t, even as much as he wants to, because he’s too busy running on adrenaline, too busy straddling Chris and punching him hard, non-stop, using all the energy he’d had pent up inside of his body.
This feels good. This feels like closure, and it shouldn’t.
“Harry!” Victoria cries out when Chris’s eyes start to droop. Harry immediately looks at her over his shoulder, stopping, because this is his mum- his family, his blood- and she’s standing there, shocked, with the same green eyes and the same brown hair and the same scar on her sun kissed shoulders that she got when she fell down the stars while chasing after Harry when he was seven-years old.
She hasn’t changed but, at the same time, she has and not for the best. His mother used to be a woman made of stars and supernovas, and now those explosions of light and colour have been destroyed. The only person who Harry’s ever going to blame for the destruction of all Victoria Dunn’s soul is Chris Dunn, and he’ll never forgive him for that.
They stare at each other in shock. Harry blinks. Victoria’s pressed against the wall, crying softly, with her hands covering her mouth. He releases the grip he has on Chris’ hair and shakes the tension from his fist. Maybe he should stop, for her sake, for his sake. The thought is there for a second before Chris is flipping them over so that he’s on top. He punches Harry in the face and uses the same anger that Harry used on him.
“Can’t do anything now can you? You’ve always been such a fucking burden.” Chris spits out, laughing when blood begins to ooze out of Harry’s mouth.
“You’re a sick cunt.” Harry manages to say, laughing. He turns his head and spits out the blood pooling in his mouth. When Chris stops to shake his fists, Victoria takes the opportunity to quickly run and pull him off of Harry. “Why are you so sad?” Harry asks him, condescendingly, as he struggles to stand up by himself. He refuses to get help from Victoria. He can do this by himself. “Why are you so fucking sad Christopher?” He asks again, stumbling forward and grinning like a maniac. There’s a mirror next to him that he doesn’t want to look into. Everything hurts.
There’s too much burning, scorching, red-hot anger burning in the pits of his stomach.
“Why are you so focused on ruining everyone’s life?” Harry asks, voice rising. He can feel is face heating up, and he winces. Everything hurts. “What the fuck happened to you that made you want to ruin everyone else’s fucking life! D’you know how fucking depressed I was? I wanted to kill myself every single day because of you! Every goddamn day you waste of space!” He’s shouting now, crying too, and he wants to laugh at how awful this has turned out, how he expected this, and how that energy he had in the beginning is now no where to be found.
Everything hurts. All he wants is Louis. All he wants is to go home.
“Harry…” Victoria speaks up, voice breaking the suffocating silence between all three of them. She tries to walk towards him but Chris stops her. He wraps his hand around her wrist and yanks her back.
“I’d rather you not.”
She keeps quiet and fades into the background. What happened to his mother? What happened to the woman who used to wake him up with laughter and pancakes and promises of a brighter future? Because she’s not here- she’s gone- and all he see’s now is a canvas that was once filled with bright colours and big stars, and is now filled with scars and bruises and so many nights spend screaming and crying.
“I’m so sorry my love.” She whispers, crying, looking at him with wide and wet green eyes. The same green eyes he inherited. “My poor baby.”
*
Chris tells him he’s an abomination and Harry tells him that he’d rather be an abomination then Chris.
They scream and they shout and Victoria doesn’t stop crying when Harry leaves. He’s crying as well, hasn’t stopped either, and when he gets outside it’s raining. She doesn’t try to stop him. Not once. And it’s like he’s being kicked out the first time, but Louis isn’t with him this time. He’s on his own now.
Why is it raining during the summer? Is it because the world is rooting for him, with him? Maybe the world is feeling the sadness and disappointment he’s feeling, on the same level of despair that he’s on.
He limps to the train station, and ignores the looks he gets from strangers. He’s beaten and bruised and sad and bleeding. When he buys a ticket back home to London, he falls asleep the minute he gets to his seat.
*
Christ, he just wants to go home. What the fuck was he thinking? All he wants is Louis.
*
Niall’s standing by the front door when Harry barges in through the front door, crying and wet from the rain pouring in buckets outside- he looks up from the bin and his grin falls when he notices the state that Harry’s currently in.
“Jesus, mate, what happened to you?” He asks, running to Harry to assist him. He tries to touch Harry’s shaking arm but Harry shoves him had away. In front of them is a huge welcome back sign. “Are you okay?”
“Where’s Louis?”
Niall bites onto his bottom lip. “Hazza…”
“Just fucking tell me Niall!” Harry screams, eyes clenching shut. The sound of him screaming is unheard over the sound of everyone making a noise from the living room, and with wide and frantic blue eyes, Niall glances there.
“He’s with everyone else,” he tells him, “in the living room.”
Harry leaves him immediately and walks into the living room to find everyone watching football on the floor with cans of beer littered everywhere. Pussy’s nowhere to be seen.
He stands by the doorframe for a while, unnoticed. Until Liam decides to look up and meet his gaze, and just like Niall and Victoria, his smile drops when he see’s Harry. Liam quickly looks at Louis, who’s cuddling against Liam, and nudges him before pointing up at Harry.
“Oh my god.” Louis breathes out, standing up and stumbling towards Harry. It all happens too fast. He cups Harry’s cheeks in his hands and winces when Harry does- (when you feel pain, so do I.)- “My baby.”
Harry breaks down into tears before he can stop himself. “Louis.” He says brokenly as they just stare at each other. The entire room has fallen silent and Jake has switched off the TV. Harry’s felt like this before. It feels as if someone has lodged a log down his throat. He feels as if he’s suffocating. However, it’s never hurt this bad. This hurts too much. “Lou.” He repeats, taking a deep breath before breaking down into thick, ugly, sobs again. He drops his head into the crook of Louis’ shoulder.
Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair and slides the two of them down so that they’re on the floor. He moves them back so that they’re pressed against a wall. His legs part and Harry settles himself in between them, head pressed against Louis’ chest as horrible sobs racked through his shaking body.
No one says anything. Harry’s thankful for that, for this silence. It’s not as suffocating, or deafening or painful. He listens to the frantic beating of Louis’ heart and dozes off to Louis whispering; “my god Harry, you’re all flesh and bone and fallen stars and burning galaxies and I’m going to love you till the sun sets us all on fire.”
*
The rest of August is slow and painful.
Louis’ there, though, and so is Nick, Jake, Josh, Barbara, Niall, Danielle, Eleanor, Liam, Sophia, Zayn, Perrie, Gemma, Dan, Jay and the rest of the Tomlinson-Deakin clan. Even Pussy is there, and she never forgets to lick his forehead every morning when he wakes up.
Soon, it’s September and he’s got to get back to University. All his classes are boring and nothing’s changed. However, the work helps take his mind off the anxiety that lurks in his brain.
He get’s back from class early on Tuesday, and when he gets home he immediately starts to work on the new assignment they got given today. He closes himself up in their bedroom, on the floor, and opens up all the windows because it’s still so hot outside. Plus, the sky looks as if it’s on fire. It’s beautiful- something worth looking at.
So yeah, Harry’s been hauled up inside his room since coming home at four and it’s now seven. Louis’ playing ‘Dazed And Confused’ by Bombay Bicycle Club and Harry can hear him singing along as he attempts to cook dinner.
“Hi baby.”
Harry looks up at the sound of Louis speaking and smiles when he see’s his Golden Boy leaning against the doorframe of their room, wearing nothing but jogging shorts. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand and a cup of hot tea in the other.
“Hey sweetheart,” Harry greets, smiling faintly. “Is that tea for me?” He asks hopefully, tongue running across his bottom lip.
Louis nods his head and walks over to him to hand him the cup. Harry looks at him through hazy eyes. His lips twitch up more into a wider smile when he gets a closer look at Louis, bathed in the vivid orange sunlight seeping in through the window.
“You look beautiful.” Harry tells him, even though the jogging pants are worn out and hang around his waist. “You look so beautiful.”
Louis laughs and the world stops. He’s electric and hypnotic. Harry wants to hold him up in the sky one day, when the sun’s really bright, and watch him outside the sun.
“I know that.” Louis replies cockily, taking a slow sip of his water and sitting down on the other side of the room, against the wall. He gives Harry a toothy smile and giggles. “You wouldn’t be half as in love with me if I wasn’t.”
Conversation has always flowed so easily between the two of them. Louis’ this fireball of never ending energy and Harry’s this constant stream of cooling water. They balance each other out beautifully.
“It’s your arse.” Harry snorts out. “Don’t boost your ego up when you’ve got no where to boost it sweetheart.”
Louis sighs dramatically and the boards creek underneath him when he shifts. “Well,” he starts, “if we’re being completely honest here, I’ve only ever been attracted to your cock this entire time. The past four-“
“Five.” Harry corrects, cutting him off. He glances up from his paper and raises his eyebrows. “You’re an absolute tit.”
Louis lets out this loud belly laugh that results in him spilling water all over the floor. His sudden movement wakes Pussy up from the slumber she was in and the pretty cat lifts her head up from Harry’s thigh, eyes glancing around the room before closing again. She falls right back to sleep, underneath the tiny little bits of sun left shining on her.
“You see?” he shouts unnecessarily, oozing happiness. “I clearly don’t love you!”
Harry thinks; here is my heart and my soul and my lungs and the spaces between my bones. You are the blood that flows through my veins; you are the air I breathe.
*
September is awfully uneventful and when October comes, London smells like promises and dying leaves.
Louis gets another deal with another business, which means more cash and more nights spent drunk on champagne.
Today’s different. Today they’re going back home- back to Doncaster- and they’ve just gotten off the train when Harry spots Charlotte and Felicite through the crowd. They’re smoking against a wall, looking at them with bright hooded blue eyes.
“Uh, Lou? I think I’ve just found your sisters.”
Louis’ too annoyed by all the goddamn people around him. Not only that, but Pussy’s awfully uncomfortable in the little bag they’ve hid her in and it’s obvious that Pussy being upset is making Louis upset.
He looks up anyway and follows Harry’s gaze to where they’re standing, waiting for them. Immediately he laughs and the girl’s attention moves over to him at the sound of his booming laughter.
Felicite smirks and takes the cigarette from Charlotte to inhale while Charlotte exhales.
Louis waves his hand and Charlotte waves back at him, frantically with a wide grin. The wind blows her bleached strands of blonde hair around her face and as they make their way to the two girls, Felicite stubs out her cigarette beneath her brown boots.
Louis gives her a hug first. Felicite wraps her arms around his waist and kisses his shoulder. “You still smell like home.” She says at the same time as Louis asks, “you smoke now?”
The girls smile like tobacco and months spend under the sun. Their shoulders are sun-kissed and her and Charlotte both look like summer personified.
Felicite laughs. “It’s just a phase.” She replies, shrugging her shoulders.
Harry tilts his head and smiles. “It’s bad.” He tells her, ignoring the sound of Louis snickering because of the irony. Charlotte is resting her head on his shoulder. “Really bad love.”
Abruptly, and surprisingly, Charlotte tips her head back and laughs jubilantly exposing her sunken collarbones and bronzed skin. God, these girls are so young and stupid and brave. Harry remembers being like this at eighteen and sixteen years old. He remembers thinking that his life was going to turn out the way it did in those cool films and novels he used to read.
“Lou’s had a nicotine problem since he was fourteen.” She says, looking at Louis with identical bright blue eyes. She looks at Harry next and shakes her head. “And you can finish two packs in one night, Giraffe.”
Harry chooses to ignore Charlotte calling him a Giraffe, as well as the sound of Louis’ cackling. Instead, he opts for saying “exactly” in some attempt at justifying his reasoning for saying they can’t smoke. He should’ve gone for things they must understand like 1) it’s a bad habit 2) they’ll die 3) it’d bad. Harry thinks those reasons are good enough. However, he doesn’t say any of what he’s just brilliantly thought of. “Both of us would know how bad it is.” He says instead.
Charlotte chortles and Louis takes the time to look at her. He grins and moves to envelop her in a bone-crushing hug while Harry falls into conversation with Felicite.
They stand in this same spot for a long time, and talk and talk. Felicite goes to light another cigarette from the pack she most probably stole from Dan because she still honestly looks as if she’s twelve. Before she’s able to light it, Louis takes it right from her hands and lights it for himself instead, taking a nice long drag from it while keeping his eyes on her. Harry swipes the pack right from her other hand and slides it into the back pockets of his jeans.
“Stop it.” Louis warns, exhaling. He smirks at the annoyance evident on her face.
She rolls her eyes and turns her back towards him. She ignores him the entire way home, except for when it starts to drizzle and Charlotte comments on how the sun is still shining. When Louis screams, “It’s a monkeys wedding!” she laughs and looks back at him, looking away just as quick when she see’s Harry kisses Louis hard, with his hand gripping Louis’ jaw.
“We’re going to be good parents.” Louis murmurs, eyes looking ahead of him. Things have fallen silent and Pussy’s now walking on a leach because Louis wouldn’t stop complaining about how she was uncomfortable in the bag they put her in. He’s got a heart made out of pure gold, Harry thinks- his Golden Boy.
In front of them, Charlotte and Felicite are dancing around each other, singing at the tops of their lungs even though they sound horrendous.
Harry smiles and looks at Louis but Louis still isn’t look at him. He loves him so much. This has got to be what happiness feels like. Is has to be it. And maybe Louis was right. Maybe they do have the world in their hands already. Maybe all that’s left to do is learn how it wants to be held.
“Tell me about it.” Harry replies back calmly. His heart is beating so hard against his rib cage that it might just shatter to pieces inside of his body and puncture all his organs because he’s a hot mess. “Super cool, super fresh.”
“Super chill, super dope.”
“Super sexy, super cute.”
“Super ace, super hot.”
“Super in love.”
Louis’ response is immediate and the huge gush of air that escapes from his lips is loud enough to make Charlotte turn around his a questionable look in her eyes. “You’re the biggest sap ever.” He says with a blush forming on his cheeks.
“And you’re the biggest arsehole ever.” Harry shoots back quickly. “But you can’t help who you fall in love with, right?”
*
They stop to feed Pussy and Louis’ shameless enough to grip Harry’s dick through his tight jeans, right in front of his sisters.
*
As always, the Tomlinson-Deakin home is as chaotic as it always is.
Phoebe is watching television while Daisy Chases Ernest around the house. He’s just started to use his feet correctly. Jay is cooking, while also trying to hush a crying Doris on her hip, and Dan is just sitting at the foot of the stairs, chin resting on the palms of his hands.
When the door shuts behind Felicite, Daisy’s head shoots up and she shrieks in excitement. “Larry’s home!”
“Please stop doing that Daisy.” Louis pleads, dropping his bags onto the floor as well as Pussy’s leash. Daisy runs to him and he kneels down to accept her hug, taking a deep breath and nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck. “Our names aren’t Larry.”
“Whatever you say.” She laughs, “Larry.”
Louis shoves her off of him playfully and goes around hugging everyone. He tears up a little when he sees how big Doris and Ernest have gotten. “I’ve missed you guys so much.” He tells his mum.
They eat dinner and Louis rambles on about everything that’s been happening back in London. He tells them about every funny incident that’s happened to them and everyone laughs, even Doris and Ernest who don’t know why everyone’s laughing the way they are.
Things get a bit tense when Phoebe asks Harry where he got that ugly, fading, bruise on his eye and Harry looks at Louis nervously, hand moving to grip Louis’ under the table.
“You can tell them,” Louis suggest softly, leaning into his ear and circling his thumb over the scars on his knuckles. “, But only if you want to.”
And, like, the thing is- everybody in this family is as raw and as passionate and as full of love as Louis is, that it overwhelms him every time. He loves them for not forcing him into telling them and he loves Louis for just being Louis. He tells them because they deserve to know, because they took him in with open arms when his parents didn’t want him. He tells them because this is the family of the man he loves and because they love him more than he’s ever been loved in his life.
Louis’ eyes are so blue. After he’s finished telling them, Dan mutters, “fuck them” quite loudly and straight afterwards the entire table is chanting, “fuck them! Fuck them!” It’s amazing, actually, and Harry’s face heats up. He drops it onto the turquoise cloth and laughs.
This family is his family. And besides Gemma, this family is all he has.
*
At night, in bed, there’s an “I love you”
And an “I love you too,” whispered into the spaces between Louis’ ribs.
They talk and kiss and take turns stroking Pussy’s fur. She’s fallen asleep between them and her head is resting on both of their overlapped pillows. Her paw is in Louis’ mouth and Harry moves it because Louis’ too scared to take it out- too scared to wake her up. When Harry laughs at him, Louis laughs too.
“You’re a good person.” Harry tells him and Louis smiles, rolling his eyes. He looks tired.
“Can we sleep Haz?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
*
Saturday begins startlingly. It’s to Phoebe pouncing onto them, with Daisy. All Harry can smell is strawberry shampoo, rain, and fresh linen and cat hair.
“Wake up!” The girls scream, jumping up and down on the bed. Louis grunts loudly and pushes them off the bed. (This is the type of bed I want us to have.) The girls giggle and scamper out the room, whispering loudly before banging the door closed.
Breakfast is pancakes, apple juice, fresh brown bread and strawberry jam. They watch movies afterwards- Legally Blonde, Love Actually etc.- and dance a lot; well Jay and Dan dance a lot. Felicite joins them and Charlotte gets angry when she doesn’t win thirty seconds. Louis’ absolutely horrified when his mother makes Harry watch a video of Louis pretending to pole dance at the mere age of eight.
It’s fun. Everything is so fun here. Jay kisses his forehead softly, red lipstick imprinting onto his skin. Dan tells him that he’s proud of him, over a cup of hot tea while everyone scurries around the house. They haven’t known each other for very long but Harry thanks him one hundred times.
“Louis’ a bit of a whore and he didn’t want to give me any advice on boys.” Charlotte tells him when she asks him for boy advice. “Why am I even asking you two? You guys know nothing about what other boys like except for what you two like.”
There’s a dance competition, between Harry, Felicite, Louis and Daisy. Felicite laughs against the curve of Harry’s shoulder as they compete against Louis and Daisy for bottomless bacon tomorrow morning for bacon, from Jay.
Things go bad quickly when Pussy scratches Ernest on his face. Louis takes Pussy’s side because he’s that type of person, and Doris says her first words. She chants, “boo, boo” for the rest of the day and Harry absolutely fucking swears he’s never seen Louis look so smug in his entire life-, which says a lot.
*
It’s Sunday and it’s been raining since they all woke up.
The house is quiet for a change and Harry thinks it’s because they’re leaving today- him and Louis, which is sad. Everyone’s in the living room, except for Doris and Ernest who are upstairs sleeping, and Dan’s made a fire in the fireplace with the help of Louis. Fleetwood Mac is playing softly from the radio.
Louis sighs loudly. “I can’t stay in the house anymore. I’m growing restless.”
Felicite turns her body around to face Louis. “We could go outside?” she suggests, eyes glancing to Charlotte and Harry, who nod their head. Louis smiles.
They run out of the house, barefoot, with blankets draped over their shoulders. Jay runs to the door, shouting at them not to go outside while it’s raining but none of them listen nor do they care. They’re young and made of stardust, and when they get outside Harry laughs and dips his head back. The sound of Louis’ laughter, as he lifts both his hands into the air, is electrifying.
He spins around until he almost falls from being too dizzy, and his mind is fuzzy with happiness and light and warmth. Felicite looks like an absolute dream like this- with her dark hair stuck to her glistening, pale skin. Charlotte dances around her, holding her hand, and Harry jumps when he hears the sound of Daisy and Phoebe screaming as they run towards them.
From here, Harry can see Jay, Dan and the twins, as well as Pussy, watching them through the window and Louis says something about how Pussy looks as if she’s smiling at them.
There’s this song that’s been thumping in Harry’s heart since he met Louis for the first time. It’s never stopped since. It has to be what happiness sounds like; this has to be how it feels like.
At six pm, they leave. The goodbyes are hard and the train ride back is silent. Louis falls asleep with his head on Harry’s lap and Pussy in the between them, on the chair.
*
November is the reddest month of the year for them. It’s full of anger and fights. Louis isn’t home. He hasn’t been home in a week and Harry is so angry, so confused as to what happened.
Outside, the leaves are still red on the floor. Some days, it snows. Louis isn’t here anymore for Harry to kiss him in the dark, under pretty lights that went with the summer.
Sleeping alone without Pussy and Louis is harder than Harry ever thought it would be.
But things have never been so weird between them than they have been for the last two weeks. The tension between them is suffocating. Pussy wouldn’t even look at him anymore. Now they’re over at Zayn and Perrie’s, they’ve been there for an entire week, and Harry doesn’t know why.
“Let me see him.” Harry growls, not tearing his eyes off of Zayn. It’s his fifth time coming over since he woke up at six this morning, cold and lonely. The sun didn’t even rise with him- hasn’t at all. “Let me fucking see him.”
Perrie’s standing behind Zayn, wearing loose cotton shorts and a long sleeved top. Her thin arms are crossed over her chest and her face is bare. “He doesn’t want to see you.” She deadpans, blinking at him with pale blue eyes. Her movements are lethargic but her glare is sharp and unwavering. She’s looking at him as if he’s wasting her time when trust is; she’s wasting his.
“You don’t understand!” He screams, hitting his hand against the door. He feels someone’s hands grip onto his shoulder and Barbara’s familiar scent wafts in through his flared nostrils. “He’s my fucking boyfriend and I’m the one who loves him, you fucking hear me? I have more of a damn right to speak to him than any of you fucking do!”
His patience is running short and Harry wonders if he looks as angry as he feels. There’s a figure behind Perrie that Harry can’t focus on as much as he’d like because his vision is blurred by the tears that have formed in his eyes. He’s so sad and so confused and why won’t anyone let him see his boyfriend?
He wipes his eyes and bites his lip. The figure is, unsurprisingly, Louis. And he’s standing with Pussy, wearing nothing but Harry’s grey sweatpants and a bandana around his head.
Harry loves him more than he hates him, but he hasn’t been home in a week and Harry’s been driving himself up the walls in anger because one morning he woke up and Louis wasn’t there. Neither was Pussy. He can’t loose another person in his life that he’s made too many memories with. He can’t be on his own again.
Zayn must sense Louis’ presence in the room because he narrows his eyes at Harry and glances back at him over his shoulder. “Get back inside the room Lou.”
Louis raises one eyebrow at Zayn’s demand, and rolls his eyes. Harry straightens up and wipes his tears, laughing quietly. Louis looks at him and doesn’t return his faint smile. “Never demand me to do anything again.” He snaps, moving his gaze to Zayn. “And fuck mate, just let him speak to me.”
Perrie laughs abruptly. She shakes her head and looks at Zayn. “Remember that time we tried to be over-protective, nice friends? Let’s never do it again.” She says, laughing along with Zayn who nods his head with her. Harry slips in past them, into the flat, and leaves Barbara chewing on her nails as she turns around to head back to her flat.
He follows Louis into the bathroom and sits down on the toilet seat while Louis locks the door.
“We should also get a key to the bathroom.” Harry says, trying to break the tension. Louis slides down onto the floor and crosses his legs underneath his chin, wrapping his arms around them. Pussy presses herself against him.
“Yeah.”
The silence is tense and Harry’s never been good in awkward situations. Each smile he gives Louis is not returned and slowly, he feels him growing frustrated.
“Why did you leave?” he blurts out, too tired to beat around any bush.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
“You’ve been avoiding me!”
Louis frowns. “What?” he asks softly. The lights in this bathroom are too bright and it’s so fucking cold. Harry can see Louis shivering and he wishes he had the courage to kneel down in front of him and wrap him up in the little warmth he has, but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to anymore. “You didn’t look at me anymore. Every time I tried to touch you, you’d push me away.”
“Because you were ignoring me!” Harry exclaims. He bites his lip when he sees Louis flinch. “Fuck Lou, you know I get closed off when I think I’m being ignored. I hate it.”
Louis runs his fingers through his hair and says, “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Because I thought you were ignoring me. I’m not the strongest person in the world Lou. I’m stubborn and stupid and so in love with you.” He tells Louis, voice cracking. “I miss you. I miss you so much. It’s so cold.”
There’s a beat of silence that passes and Harry taps his foot against the tiles while Louis drums his fingers against the wall.
After a while Louis says, “I’m in love with you, too.” And they laugh until they’re crying. Harry finds enough courage to kneel in front of him. He wipes the tears falling down his cheeks and kisses him hard and passionately. Louis cups his face and mumbles “I love you I love you so much” breathlessly, every time they pull away to breath.
Christ, they suck. But they’re okay, and even if they aren’t as okay as they’d like to be- Harry knows they will be eventually.
“We’re in this together.” Louis tells Harry, repeating what he said months ago in January. “Me and you, and Pussy, against the world.” He says, peppering kisses all over Harry’s eyelids.
Louis claws at the thick material of his jumper and Harry presses himself closer to him. “I think- I think we need to learn how to talk better. Like, voice our opinions when things start to get weird. I love you too much to lose you over something so stupid.”
When Louis looks at him, his eyes are clearest they’ve been in a long time- so clear that Harry can see himself looking at himself. He’s so beautiful it hurts.
“Yeah, totally.”
*
When they get home- their home- they fuck like sex starved animals and smoke until their lungs turn to ash.
*
Two weeks later, Louis throws a plate at Harry’s head, but misses.
It ends up shattering against the wall and Pussy steps on a piece of glass, that has them speeding to the vet at one am in the morning. They spend the entire morning there and Louis apologises profusely while fiddling around with the plasters wrapped around all his fingers.
“I’m sorry for trying to kill you.” He mumbles into Harry’s shirt when they hug. “You deserved it, though.” He’s shaking so much and Harry knows how scared he is. The apology is shit but Harry accepts it.
So yeah, that’s November. It’s a month full of anger and impulsivity and nights trying to kiss the wounds away. They’ve got the type of love that could melt the entire world. The world will never stop rooting for them.
(Just give her some time.)
*
Harry loves December because of all the snow. December comes with hot chocolate and red noses and snow fights and days spent inside and woolly jumpers and snow on the floors because one of them forgot to close the windows before work or class.
December means family and Christmas. It means Louis’ birthday and New Years Eve.
Niall and Barbara head to Ireland on the twenty first of December.
On the twenty second of December, Harry receives a message from Victoria that reads, “I’m so sorry.” And he doesn’t. Gemma comes down up from Brighton to stay with them for a couple of days, and she’s more than happy to sleep on the couch with Pussy.
Louis is quiet and reserved the next day, on the twenty-third. When Gemma leaves the table to go shower, Harry leans over the table and clears his throat. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks.
“I don’t want to get older.” He replies, taking a sip of his tea.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure that if you had to stay twenty-three forever, you’d cry. Have you never watched Twilight?”
Louis stares at him as if he’s grown ten heads, and there’s a glint of amusement in his bright eyes that Harry hangs onto. “But I’m not a vampire?”
“Exactly!” Harry shouts excitedly. “Think of how boring his life was already! Imagine if he had stayed eighteen forever and wasn’t a vampire? He’d be so fucking bored.”
Louis snickers and pulls a face. “I’m pretty sure he’d be dead babe.”
*
It’s Louis’ birthday and Harry’s woken him up with a sloppy blowjob and flowers in his hair. When Louis comes with a soft cry of Harry’s name, Harry lifts his head and swallows.
“Happy Birthday.” He congratulates. His voice is absolutely fucked.
They spend the entire at Hyde Park. Louis insisted that he didn’t want anything too big. All their friends come and Louis makes Gemma carry Pussy the entire way there. Zayn, Eleanor and Danielle bring their skateboard, as well as Harry and Louis, and they skate up and down the pavement, creating a hell of a lot of noise.
Harry watches with admiration as Louis tells goofy stories and makes everyone, even Nick, laugh at his shamelessness. There’s so much love in his heart for Louis that Harry thinks his heart may explode.
Back at home, they place music loudly and eat too much food and drink too much wine. Harry eats Louis out until he comes untouched and Louis waits for him in their bedroom as he washes his teeth.
Later, Louis sucks Harry off because, “I get off on pleasuring you.” And if that isn’t the sexiest thing that’s ever been said to anyone, than Harry doesn’t know what is.
“I’ve got a letter for you.” Harry whispers in his ear, even though they are the only ones in their room. They’re lying side to side on their mattress on the floor and through the door; Harry can hear the music still playing and the sound of their friends creating too much noise on top of that.
“Can I read it now?” Louis asks. He’s always been so impatient.
Harry laughs and nods his head. He’s already given Louis the four-leaved closer bracelet he got him. He saved this one because he wanted to give it to him in private. So he takes the folded paper out from his back pocket and places it on Louis’ chest.
“It’s a bit cringe.” He says, blushing in the dark. “Don’t laugh.”
Louis rolls on top of him and unfolds the paper slowly, eyes flickering down to Harry’s ever so often. His hair is falling in front of his face and there’s a soft smile on his face. “I’m not that much of a dick, Jesus.”
Just as Harry’s about to reply, Louis starts to read the letter out loud.
“Hello Lou, Happy Birthday, I’ve known you for five years- seven days until six- and I swear I’ve never wanted anyone more I’ve wanted you, want you and will want you, ever. I’ve known you for five years and I still remember you being eighteen years old with the worlds biggest heart and fuck, sweetheart, I’ve seen love fail and die and turn to dust but it’s been five- ish- years with you and everyday still feels like the first time I saw you, touched you and felt you. That’s fucking insane right? Because I’m still so, so, so in love you even after all these years, and at this point I don’t think I’ll ever stop. Our love will never fail or die or turn to dust because I won’t let that happen. Does it freak you out that I don’t think I’m ever going to stop loving you? That I know I’m never going to stop loving you? I can’t, wouldn’t be able to, even if someone held a gun to my head. You’ve done a lot for me and I thank you for that, for everything. I hope this letter is enough. I hope I am enough. I hop this crazy, endless, stupid amount of love I have for you is enough. My god Louis, you are so beautiful. Your eyes are bright enough to put all the stars in the galaxy to shame. I love you; I love you, and Happy Birthday Boo. You deserve every good thing that is given to you.
*
After everyone’s passed out in their living room, Louis lets Harry fuck him so hard he forgets his own name, and he even begs for more afterwards.
*
On the twenty-fifth of December, Perrie and Zayn leave to go to Bradford. Sophia and Liam leave shortly afterwards, to go to Wolverhampton. It’s too quiet without everyone, and they spend their Christmas over at Danielle and Eleanor’s, where they exchange shitty gifts and eat burnt lasagne.
‘This Is The Life’ by Two Door Cinema Club is playing and Harry’s happy with the people he’s spending Christmas with. He can’t imagine anything better than spending Christmas like this.
December twenty-sixth is spent in doors. They stay in their pyjamas the entire day and drink hot chocolate non-stop. They slide around the apartment in socks and listen to Britney Spears loudly, on repeat.
Pussy was born on the twenty seventh of December, and on that day they cook her fish because they’re excellent parents. Harry watches Louis cook the fish until it turns black. He laughs and then pushes him against the fridge so they can feverously make out. It’s an in the moment type of thing, and it doesn’t help the fish burn less any more than it has.
They fight on the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth of December over something so dumb. Louis sulks like a two-year-old child and forces Harry to apologise to him even though Harry’s done nothing wrong. He apologises anyway, because he’s a whipped piece of shit, and Louis kisses him sweetly. Harry takes that as an apology.
December Thirtieth is the day they decide to finally leave the apartment. Pussy accompanies them to Tesco’s to buy some grocery since they can actually afford it by themselves now. Harry had no idea that sneaking into a food store with a breathing, living cat was so hard. But they manage to do it anyway. Louis almost gets himself punched (again) by some teenage boy he had been wanting to trip.
On the thirty-first of December they go to Carnaby Street. Pussy accompanies then again and they lounge around, outside, at some café despite it being so cold. Louis’ smoking a cigarette and Pussy’s eating food off of Louis’ hand when Harry snaps a picture of them on his phone.
Louis looks up when he hears the flash go off. His smile disappears off his face and he blushes when he notices the way Harry’s looking at him.
“Stop.” He whines, laughing. “You’re way too infatuated with me.”
Harry scoffs and Pussy looks at him, hissing. He flips her off and Louis laughs again. “You, Louis Tomlinson, are modesty personified.”
Louis ignores him and Harry focuses his attention back to his phone. He edits the photo of VSCO and puts it on instagram. Afterwards, he attaches the picture to a message addressed to Victoria and Chris Dunn. The body of the message reads,
‘Dear Victoria and Chris,
This is what happiness looks like. I’m sorry that you were so miserable in your own lives that you couldn’t allow me a chance at my own. I went out and found it anyway. I miss you mum and will miss you this upcoming year since you won’t allow me to come back home unless your husband sees that I have a woman on my arm. The last time I saw you was the last time I’ll ever see you. I’m sorry you married a man who stripped you off the immense love you had to boost his own ego. You were once the strongest person I knew. I hope you find that light again, one day.
I’m sorry too. Happy New Years Eve,
Your son, his boyfriend and our spoiled cat’
He hesitates but presses send when he looks up to catch Louis pulling faces at a disinterested Pussy.
Fuck it, he thinks. He loves his life.
*
Later that night, candles and the lights outside light up the apartment. It’s seconds away until midnight and Louis presses Harry against a wall, tugs at the ends of his curls and peppers kisses along his jawline.
When the fireworks go off at twelve, they laugh into the crooks of each other’s neck because they can hear Eleanor and Danielle screaming in their apartment.
Louis pulls back and places Harry’s hand on his chest, right above the spot in which his heart beats under. “Here is the place where I love you.” He says softly. “Happy New Years baby.”
Harry’s heart feels stuck in his throat and his eyes well up, but Louis looks too beautiful to be looked at through blurry vision so he leans forward and captures his lips in a kiss, gripping the thick knitted material of the Christmas jumper Louis’ wearing.
Harry thinks; my body is the home in which I will love you in forever. I will love you as loudly as I can for the rest of my life. Thank you for all the years that have gone and thank you for the years yet to come.
To live a beautiful life is all Harry’s ever dreamed of, and here he is living the most beautiful, most majestic, most chaotic, mystical and unorganised life in the world. But he’ll figure it out somebody. Just give him some time.