Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Louis

“You know, this wouldn’t‘ve happened if you had just agreed to live with us, mate.” 

Louis sighs, exhaling a long breath of smoke through his lips as he lazily rolls his head to look over at Liam. The “good boy” of their friend group barely contains his shudder as the smokey air wafts in his direction. How Liam’s still so sensitive to it after months of dating Zayn is beyond Louis’ comprehension. 

“You know I couldn’t swing it. And there was no way I’d share a room with Niall again,” Louis replies easily, eyes skirting over to where the blonde is currently taking a too big bite of a burger. 

Niall chews with an incredulous look on his face, as if to say, what the fuck, mate? 

“We could hear your violent masturbation through the fucking walls when we went on holiday last year,” Louis explains, a smirk on his lips when Niall flips him off, the Irishman’s ears tinting red. They both know that he’s not actually embarrassed. And the whole crew has teased him plenty about his little solo escapade. 

“Hey! It was a long, lonely week. And you fuckers were busy being all loved up!” Niall defends, arms up in surrender. 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, shifting his attention back to Liam who is watching Zayn get more drinks from the bar with the most golden-retriever-like expression possible on a human man. Six months of this and you’d think Louis was used to it already, but he still finds the couple absolutely nauseating. “Anyways, Payno, I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s just a first year student, not a bloody child. How bad could it be?” 

“Uh… It could be terrible,” Zayn answers, slipping into his seat at the picnic table beside his boyfriend. His arm winds easily around Liam’s waist. Louis holds himself back from rolling his eyes. He’s happy for his best friends, really, but the PDA the two insist on shoving down everyone’s throats is sickening. Louis pointedly ignores the fact that he never used to even notice how touchy the two were when he had an arm around his own waist. 

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Niall says breezily. “Louis will show the guy around. Plus, maybe he’ll be fun!” He pauses, taking a long sip of his fresh, cold beer. “Hey! Maybe he’ll even play footie! We need another member for the team.” 

Louis gives him a small, tight-lipped smile. “Sure, we’ll see tomorrow, I guess. We move in at 10.” 

“Do you need help moving your shit?” 

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Louis replies. His jaw clenches as he thinks about moving into his dorm last year. More specifically, who helped him move in last year. “I don’t have a lot of stuff. It’s all in the back of my car right now.” 

Zayn nods his head, clocking the shift in Louis’ body language. “Lou, you know you can talk about it, right? It’s only been a few weeks...” 

“No,” Louis says quickly, pressing his cigarette to his lips. He lets the nicotine wash over him, eyes focusing intently on the way the leaves flutter in the breeze on one of the trees nearby. “I’m fine, Zayn.” 

Zayn sighs, and Louis knows he’s giving Liam a knowing look. He knows that Niall is rolling his eyes dramatically at him as well, all three keyed into the fact that he’s lying through his teeth. But he doesn’t care. He is fine. Mostly. Maybe. Some days. Whatever. 

Regardless, he has no desire to discuss it now, the day before their third and final year at uni is set to start, when they have a pitcher of beer collecting condensation at their table outside of their favorite pub. He’s not about to be the buzz kill; that’s just not who he is. He’s Louis “the Tommo” Tomlinson, life of the party, after all.

“How ‘bout a round of shots, lads?”

~~~ 

In hindsight, three rounds of shots after a few pitchers of beer was perhaps not Louis’ best idea. 

At least the old saying “beer before liquor, never been sicker” is a lie. 

Still, he wakes up with a splitting headache, the late summer Manchester sun beaming through the windows of his friends’ new flat and hitting him right on the face. He can tell it’s early, way too early to be awake, by the fact that the sun isn’t even halfway into the sky yet. Why didn’t they think to close the blinds last night?

He groans, his eyes squeezing shut as he blindly tries to feel on the coffee table for water and ibuprofen. It’s in vain, of course it is, because all four of them had been far too plastered to remember to set out anything to help ease their transition back into functional human beings the next morning. He never had to remember setting out the tablets the night before, it was always—

Louis sighs, turning over to ignore where he knows those thoughts are going. He buries his head deeper into his pillow, turning to face the back of the couch, and tries to fall back asleep. 

~~~

Waking up a few hours later is, unfortunately, not much better. 

He’s ripped out of his dreamless sleep as soon as he hears a bedroom door squeak open on old hinges. Louis listens to socked feet pad into the bathroom, hears someone piss and flush the toilet, the water running as they wash their hands. He desperately wishes he were a heavier sleeper, that he could fall back asleep and ignore reality for a few more hours at least. 

Louis keeps still as he notices the footsteps come closer, the person walking into the living room where he’s curled up on the couch. He evens out his breathing, not quite ready to face the day yet, but he can’t help but let the corners of his mouth lift up just slightly when he hears someone set what sounds suspiciously like a glass of water and bottle of medication down on the table behind him. 

“I saw that,” Zayn whispers fondly. He gently drags his fingers through Louis’ fringe, leaning against the armrest of the couch. “Morning, Lou.” 

Louis blinks his eyes open, the right side of his lips still quirked up as he looks at his friend. “Morning, mate.” 

Zayn reaches out for the glass and two tablets as he waits for Louis to sit up. When he finally does, not without some dramatic groans, he takes the medication with a grateful smile, washing it down with water. He chugs the rest of the glass before setting his head against the back of the couch. 

“What time s’it?” 

“Half ten,” Zayn replies, patting his shoulder before he moves to the kitchen. The flat is nothing flashy – they’re all uni students, after all – but it’s nice enough considering. The open floor plan grants Louis access to see his friend grab two boxes of cereal from the cupboard – Coco Pops and Cheerios. 

Louis groans again, raking a hand through his messy fringe. “I’m already late.” 

“You are.” Zayn says it simply. Zayn’s always been more attuned to Louis’ schedule than Louis was himself, ever since they were kids. “Have some breakfast, then you can head over. If you try to move in on an empty stomach, you’ll probably scare your poor first-year roommate when you throw up before even saying a proper hello.” 

He has a point, Louis figures, accepting the bowl of Coco Pops from his comfortable spot on the couch. “Thanks, love.” 

Zayn gives him a wink then sits down on the very old leather couch beside him, kicking his feet up onto the dilapidated coffee table in front of them. “You nervous?” 

“For what?” 

“To meet the kid. What if he’s… weird? Or homophobic? What if he hates tea?” 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Z, he’s not going to hate tea .” 

“What if he takes his tea with three sugars?” 

Louis shudders at the thought, but continues anyway. “I’m not nervous. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s only one year. Then we’ll have graduated, I’ll have a job doing… something… and you’ll be a professional tattoo artist ready to ink me for free.” 

“Ha, you wish.” Zayn gently knocks their shoulders together. “You say that like you don’t already owe me like forty quid. And as if I haven’t been feeding your arse for years.” 

“Yeah, whatever, love. You just wish you could have my arse.” 

Zayn smiles at him fondly and rolls his eyes. “Liam’s arse is perfectly fine.” 

“My arse is what?” Liam mumbles, stumbling in from his shared room with Zayn off to the left of the flat. His hair is haphazardly sticking up in every direction around his head, his sweatpants a bit tight and Louis guesses that they probably belong to Zayn. 

“Just saying I love your arse, babe,” Zayn explains. Louis makes a gagging noise. “Oh piss off, Lou. Just because you’re sad doesn’t mean we can’t be happy.” 

“You two are gross,” Louis replies simply, standing up from the couch. Liam falls into the spot he previously occupied, immediately curling around his boyfriend. Somehow he gets even more puppy-like when hungover and sleepy. Zayn feeds him a spoonful of cereal and Louis makes another gagging sound before turning to set his own empty bowl in the sink. When he turns back around to face the living room, the two lovebirds are snogging on the couch, Liam’s hand snaking its way under Zayn’s shirt already. Gross . 

“Well, I’m going to head out,” Louis says pointedly. He’s ignored by his friends, though that is not much of a surprise. He’s used to them being preoccupied with each other.

He picks his hoodie up off the floor, pulling it on and leaving it unzipped. He glances down at his clothes now, sighing inwardly. He’s still dressed in the same clothes he wore last night – a comfortable pair of black skinny jeans, an old black Black Sabbath tee he found in a charity shop a few years ago. It’s his usual clothes, but somehow they feel wrong for moving in, for making a first impression. It’s not even necessarily the outfit that’s the problem, more just the fact that they’re a bit rumpled, probably smell, and have clearly been worn before. He could borrow clothes from Zayn or Liam, he figures, but shrugs the thought away. Who cares what he looks like? It’s the first day. And his new roommate will have to get used to seeing him hungover anyways. 

“Call us later and tell us about the first-year!” 

Louis looks back as he shoves his feet into his Vans, smiling at Liam. “Yeah, alright, mate. I will.” 

The smile doesn’t leave his lips after he shuts the door behind him. Liam was his roommate last year. He and Zayn got together after a few months of thinking that they were fucking each other in secret but in reality being incredibly obvious about it. Louis also found Zayn’s clothes around their dorm on more than one occasion, further giving them away. Luckily, Liam fit into their crew seamlessly, acting somehow as both the mother of the group, and complementing Zayn in ways Louis never knew possible. Louis loves them both, even if they’re utterly disgusting most of the time. 

Getting into his car is easy enough, but he groans as he starts it, his stomach twisting as the car rattles to life. As much as he loves Zayn, Coco Pops are not proper hangover food. So, he pulls into the nearest McDonald’s drive through, ordering himself a sausage egg McMuffin, a large Sprite, and three orders of hash browns. He figures that if he’s going to be this late, he might as well come with food. 

He eats as he drives the few miles to campus, sighing to himself when he notices the parking lot in front of his building is nearly full. He luckily snags one of the last spots, parking his beat-up silver 2001 Ford Focus right at the end of the lot. It’ll be a long walk to schlep all of his shit inside, but that’s what he gets for arriving over an hour late. 

Louis tosses the empty wrappers of his breakfast into the passenger seat then gets out of the car. He takes a second to stretch, his back cracking after spending the night on his friends’ shitty sofa. Then, he walks around to the trunk, popping it, and slinging a backpack over his shoulders. He grabs two boxes in his hands, clutching his new roommate’s hash browns in his fist before heading towards the looming building in front of him. 

It’s loud as soon as he steps inside, catching the lift with a few other students and a couple of their parents. He smiles to himself, noticing the nervous first years, the bored second years. The building is one of the nicer ones on campus, a mix of students from all years residing there. Most older students opted to live off campus, as Liam, Zayn, and Niall, but some – like Louis – still stayed in a dorm, whether for financial reasons or otherwise. 

Louis steps out on the second floor, walking down to the end of the hall where he finds the door with an eight. The door’s unlocked, so he takes a deep breath before pushing it open with his hip. 

What he sees when he sets his boxes down is a shock, to say the least. 

The room is furnished as expected, two twin beds, two desks, two dressers all in the same boring color of wood. The walls are painted a basic off-white colour, large windows overlooking the grassy square behind the building. To the left is a closed door leading to the bathroom, which he knows will be just as standard as everything else about the room. 

That’s not what surprises him. 

What surprises him is that half of the room looks like one of his younger sisters may have decorated it. 

The bed to the left is dressed in a white duvet with a black floral pattern, light pink sheets peeking out from beneath it, complemented by darker pink decorative throw pillows. There are a few stuffed animals sitting against them – a unicorn pillow pet, a big squishy blue fish looking thing, and what looks like a rainbow Build a Bear? The bed has plenty of blankets on the end of it as well, two pink ones, a purple one, and a white one, all fluffy and soft looking. On the desk at the foot of the bed is a flamingo lamp with a pink shade, what looks like a little bag of nail polish off to one side, a few pastel coloured notebooks, and a cup holder of colorful pens. 

Louis blinks, stunned into shock as the door to the en suite opens. 

“Oh, hey! You must be Louis!” 

The boy looks young, with a clear baby face though Louis knows he had to be at least eighteen. He has wild chocolate brown curls, pulled away from his face with a patterned scarf, and his large green eyes have a hint of nervousness in them. He shuffles a bit under Louis’ gaze, playing with the hem of the oversized lilac sweater he was wearing, bringing Louis’ attention to his hands. His nails were painted. A subtle metallic colour, but still noticeable. 

“Hey,” Louis says cautiously, stiff. He’s never met anyone like him before. “Yeah, I’m Louis. You must be-“

“Harry!” The boy supplies a shy smile on his pink pouty lips. They’re shiny, almost as if he had put on a bit of lip gloss. Louis tries not to stare.

Instead, Louis nods, trying his best to give the boy - Harry - a comforting smile. “Nice to meet you, love. Welcome to the University of Manchester.” Harry relaxes slightly, his shoulders less tense, but he doesn’t move from his place in the doorway of their bathroom. “I uh, I brought breakfast. If you’re hungry.” He holds up the bag. “Sorry I’m late.” 

Harry glances to the bag Louis holds up, the grease evident and staining the paper, and his nose scrunches up in the most endearing way possible. “Uh, no thanks.” 

Louis frowns. “You don’t like Mackies?” 

“Uh, not really,” Harry replies. “Sorry. Good hangover food though, I guess.” 

Louis nods, wondering if his hangover is really that obvious. He should have splashed his face with water before he left the boys’ flat. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m going to go get the rest of my stuff.” 

He slips out the door before Harry can reply, taking a deep breath. Harry is in no way what he was expecting. 

Louis pulls out his mobile to phone the other boys; they’ll never guess the kind of guy his first year turned out to be.

Chapter Text

Harry

Moving to Manchester was never the plan. Harry had dreams of going to uni somewhere grander, even out of the country, or at the very least in London. But, Manchester made the most sense financially, and it wasn’t too far from his family, so he acquiesced. It was really for his mum’s sake and not his own fears of getting homesick. 

So far, his first week hasn’t been too bad. At least, nothing horrible had happened. Yet. 

His classes were fine, mostly large lectures where he could easily blend into the crowd and dutifully take notes without anyone bothering him. His professors were perfectly normal as well, droning on and teaching their subjects as they had been doing for years.

His roommate is fine, too, he supposes. Louis is… Well, he isn’t exactly what Harry expected, though what was he supposed to expect when the only information he was given was his name and age? But a twenty-year-old third year student named Louis Tomlinson didn’t exactly scream covered in tattoos in his imagination. 

Louis’ fine though, really. He hasn’t made any comments about Harry’s quirks, didn’t seem to mind when the smell of nail polish permeated their room earlier in the week, hasn’t teased him about his stuffed animals or the multitude of blankets at the end of his bed. He’s even been pretty quiet, respecting that Harry prefers to study in the dorm rather than in the library or somewhere else on campus. He’s just… Well, he’s intimidating, really, with his numerous dark tattoos and nose ring. Harry’s never met anyone like him before, and he never quite knows what to say around him. Sharing a room is something foreign to him, too. It’s all just an adjustment, he figures. 

That’s what he’s thinking about on Thursday afternoon instead of reading the assigned pages for his literature class, his ears perking up when he hears the shower shut off. He forces his mind back to the page, reading over the same line of prose a few times before Louis saunters out of their en suite with a navy blue towel hung low on his hips. Harry pointedly snaps his gaze back down to his book. 

“Hey, mate.” Louis has his back to Harry as he rifles through his drawers for something to wear. They’re so unorganized it makes Harry’s skin itch. Louis’ clothes are just always wrinkled. 

When Harry doesn’t reply, Louis turns, a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt in his hands. “You alright?” 

Harry nods and gives him a small smile. 

“Alright…” Louis continues. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come to dinner tonight? You… Well, mate, you’ve had most of your meals in the dorm this week, and it’s making me feel like a shit roommate for not inviting you out sooner.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow at him. He hadn’t realized that Louis had noticed. He was just a bit overwhelmed with the dining halls and the idea of eating in there all alone, so he had stuck to take away and meals he could make in the microwave. It was fine, really, but it was rather lonely. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure, I’d love to. Thanks, Louis.” 

A grin blooms on Louis face, lovely and genuine, a tiny crinkling around the corners of his eyes. Harry can’t help but think that he doesn’t look so intimidating like this. 

Louis nods once before walking back into the bathroom. The door shuts, the hairdryer starting shortly after, and Harry lets out an exhale he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

Was it really that obvious that he didn’t have any friends ? It wasn’t like he was purposefully a loner. Well, not really, anyways. He just liked to be alone sometimes. But if Louis had noticed, especially with how rarely he’s been in the dorm, well that’s just embarrassing. He can feel the heat rise up his chest and onto his cheeks. How pathetic . Louis must think he’s pathetic. 

He stands before he lets his mind spiral any further, pushing his large book closed and into the center of the bed. Dostoevsky will be there later. 

~~~ 

It turns out that dinner to Louis did not mean going to any of the cafeterias or restaurants on campus. No. It meant going over to his friends’ flat a few blocks away. A flat with people Harry had never met. At least they were expecting him…

“Harry!” 

Harry forced an awkward smile on his face as one guy with a strong Irish accent wrapped his arms around his shoulders, squeezing them tight. His features softened as the guy didn’t let up after the standard time length of a hug. He had really missed hugs. 

“I’m Niall,” the guy says as he pulls back. He holds Harry at arms length with a welcoming smile on his face. He squeezes him one more time to the sound of Louis groaning and slipping inside behind him. Niall seemed nice, and his hug really pushed that fact. He looked nothing like Louis, too. Which was a bit unexpected. Harry had kind of assumed all of his friends would be covered in tattoos too, but Niall didn’t have any visible that Harry could see.

“I’m Harry, but I guess you know that.” 

Niall nods. “Tommo’s told us all about you! His little first year.” 

Harry looks over to his roommate who at least has the decency to look bashful. It’s not a look Harry’s seen on him before. “Not sure about the little part, huh?” Harry’s a bit nervous as he says it, but Niall is so warm and welcoming and somehow familiar . He feels more at home here than he has all week. 

Harry’s gamble is worth it; the other four men in the room break into laughter, including Louis, who looks at him with an eyebrow raised and his too-blue eyes sparkling. 

“Oh, he’s funny!” Niall shouts, pulling Harry by the elbow into the flat. “Harry, meet the gang. We have Liam over here – he’s our dad. You can also call him Payno or Lima bean. Up to your discretion.” Liam, apparently, gives Niall a pained expression. “And then you obviously know Louis, Tommo. You can call him Lou or Lou Lou or Boo Bear, that’s what his mum calls him. He’d love that.” Louis flips the Irishman off. “And finally, Zayn. Zaynie. Z-man. DJ Malik if you or he is drunk.” 

Harry waves shyly at them all, trying his best to not outwardly show how nervous he is. He hasn’t been around a group of men like this in… well, maybe ever. At least, not outside of a sports setting.

“Welcome, Harry!” Liam speaks up, a warm smile on his face. He seems nice, kind. Harry decides that he likes him immediately. “We’re having spaghetti tonight, hope you like pasta.” 

The other boys groan softly, but Harry just nods his head, a bit confused. Who doesn’t like pasta ? 

Liam slips into the small kitchen, checking on the boiling water and adding a bit of salt while Niall takes a few large steps over to Louis, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into the living room to sit on the couch. 

“We have pasta every night,” Zayn supplies, speaking softly to his left when he notices Harry’s confusion. He’s most like the type of guy Harry had assumed Louis would be friends with, also covered in dark tattoos with pierced ears.

“Well, we’re not exactly chefs around here, huh?” Liam quips back. How he heard Zayn’s soft voice, Harry’s not sure. He looks between the two, the ease they seem to have with each other. Zayn rolls his eyes fondly and walks over to lean against one of the counters in the kitchen. The flat isn’t very big, Harry’s still only a few steps away. 

“I-I can cook,” he mumbles, still looking between the two men. “I actually used to work in a bakery, back home. I’m pretty good.” 

Zayn’s perfectly manicured eyebrows raise and he smirks before looking over at Liam then to Louis. “Tommo, why didn’t you tell us that your first year was a chef? We could’ve been having real food this whole week!” 

Harry flushes, almost not noticing the way Louis looks at him with a quizzical expression. 

“Didn’t know! Harry, why didn’t you tell me you were this world class chef?” 

“I… You never asked?” 

The group laughs softly at that before turning back to their previous conversations, leaving Harry feeling awkward in his place between the two rooms. He bites his lip, his hands fisting in his jumper. This is why he didn’t like groups. 

Luckily, before he gets too uncomfortable, Liam turns back to him. “Hey, want to help shred some cheese, Harry? Zayn’s shit at it.” 

Zayn balks but it makes Harry chuckle all the same. “Sure.” 

He slips in beside Liam, taking the grater and a block of parmesan from the counter and gets to work. He stays quiet for a while, focusing on the job he was given but listening intently to the conversations happening around him. He’s perceptive when he wants to be. 

Zayn has slowly shifted further into the kitchen, now sitting on top of the counter beside the stove. He and Liam are discussing something about one of their sisters, and Liam absently rubs Zayn’s knee where it’s exposed in the rip of his jeans. It’s soft and domestic in a way he wouldn’t expect by looking at them. Harry feels his heart swell. They’re really quite cute together, even if they’re a bit of an unconventional looking couple; Zayn with his super hero tee and tattoos, Liam in a loose vest that reveals his muscles and backwards cap. Somehow they fit together. 

“What about you, Harry? Any siblings?” 

Harry looks up, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was eavesdropping on them. “Uh, yeah, yeah. One sister. Older.” 

Zayn nods, resting his head against the cabinet behind him. “Older sisters, kinda great, kinda the worst.” 

Harry laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess so? Mine is lovely. She’s kind of my best friend.” 

“That’s sweet,” Liam says, another warm smile gracing his features. It makes Harry feel warm inside, like he’s somehow able to pass his joy to him. “My sisters are older too. Kind of pains in my arse though.” Liam laughs as he turns back to the stove, switching off the heat under the boiling water. 

Zayn reaches for some plates now that it looks like they’re almost ready, squeezing past Liam and Harry to set them down at the table. It’s a small one, as Harry would expect in the flat of anyone around his age. He realizes that there are mismatched chairs around, a fifth one squeezed in at the corner. He bites back a smile at the idea of them finding another seat just for him.

~~~

Dinner was, surprisingly, a ton of fun. Despite his original apprehension, Harry felt welcomed by Louis’ friends. They seemed to know just how to make him feel comfortable and by the end of the night they had even invited him to join their football league. 

“Niall, leave him alone. He doesn’t want to play footie,” Louis had said, glaring over at the blond. 

But Harry just shrugged. “I… I do love to play, actually.” He couldn’t help but feel flustered at the surprised expression that crossed over Louis’ face. Harry pointedly stared back at him. Just because he paints his nails and has fluffy bedding doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy sports too. 

“Perfect!” Niall cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “We need another play after-“

Louis glared at him, effectively shutting him up. Which was… strange. Harry glanced between the two, trying to gauge what was going on before Liam spoke up to break the tension that had suddenly flooded the room.

“We’d love to have you play, Harry. I’m sure Lou will fill you in on the details, but our first game is in a few weeks. We practice on Mondays and Thursdays.” 

Harry turned to look at Liam. “You got it.” 

Now, they’re driving home in Louis’ beat up car listening to some popular TikTok song on the radio. Harry’s surprised to see Louis mouthing the words; it didn’t seem like his type of music at all. 

“So, sorry about them… They can be a lot, I know. But they’re mostly harmless. Good lads, really. ‘ve known them for ages, especially Zayn, known him since we were kids. Liam was my roommate last year, and Niall… Well, he just sticks around like glue.” Harry chuckles softly, not wanting to interrupt Louis. He’s never heard him talk this much. “They’re great though, really. They can just be a lot, so sorry. Guess I should’ve warned ya.” Louis gives him a sheepish smile. “And you don’t have to play footie with us. I know Niall was all excited, but you really don’t have to-” 

“Louis,” Harry murmurs, staring at him in the dim light of the dashboard. Louis glances at him briefly. “I do like football. Really. I’m not very good at it, despite my knowledge of the game, but I enjoy it. Used to kick the ball around with my sister and dad.” He swallows. “And your friends are great. I’ve never- They’re great.” 

Louis eyes him a bit suspiciously as they come to a stop at a red light. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, okay,” Louis confirms. “They certainly seemed to like you. Not sure you’ll be able to get rid of them now.” 

Harry can’t hide the smile that spreads on his face. He secretly hopes that’s true.

~~~

For some reason, Harry’s a bit disappointed when he – subtly – watches Louis get dressed the next evening without mentioning anything to him. It’s a Friday evening, and Harry has no plans. 

It’s not that he necessarily expected Louis to ask him to come out with him, per se. But last night, hanging out in Liam, Zayn, and Niall’s flat had just been so lovely that he had hoped to see them again. 

Instead, he’s sitting crossed legged on his bed while Louis pulls an incredibly tight pair of black skinny jeans up over his bum. Not that Harry’s watching, that would be creepy. He’s just… bored. And despite his best efforts, Dostoevsky is just not holding his attention. 

“Well, I’ll see ya later, Haz,” Louis says while shoving his wallet into the pocket of his jeans. The nicknames started a few days ago, little terms that Harry couldn’t help but smile at. He and Louis weren’t really friends, but it still made this whole roommate thing feel less foreign. 

Harry glances up, hoping that his earlier peeks had gone unnoticed by the other boy. “Yeah, have a good time, Lou.” 

Louis smiles at him, his face alight with excitement. Harry doesn’t let that hurt. His own painfully quiet night ahead is not Louis’ fault. The other boy slips out the door without another word, leaving Harry to his own devices. 

Instead of allowing himself to wallow in self-pity, to focus on the fact that it’s his first weekend at university and he’s spending it alone in his room, he decides to make a nice evening for himself. Luckily, that’s something he excels at. 

Harry’s evening of self-care starts by ordering a delivery pizza from a local spot downtown. It’s a bit pricier than he would normally go for, but he has survived his first week at uni and he deserves to celebrate a little. 

The next step is lighting a candle. They’re technically not allowed in his building, but he has seen more than enough students actively smoking in the dorms – including his own roommate –  to know that the old fire alarms need a lot more than a little smoke to set themselves off. 

Once he has the lovely smell of vanilla and sandalwood surrounding the room, he decides to draw himself a bath, even adding a bath bomb his sister had given him. It feels heavenly as he sinks into the warm water. The only pro of this old, unupdated building is the bathtubs in each bathroom. 

Harry sets his head back, listening to the soft sounds of Ed Sheeran playing through his phone speaker. He can almost picture himself in his tub back home like this, that his mum is puttering around downstairs, his sister playing her own music a bit too loudly on the other side of the wall. He smiles to himself at the thought, his chest warming. He misses them. This is already the longest he’s been away from them, and he’s proud of himself for not already totally pining to go home. 

The water grows cold far faster than he’d have liked, but he accepts his fate and towels off. Luckily, the next step in his evening is a warm onesie he got for Christmas ages ago. It’s a bit small, his growth spurt in the last year that added a few inches to his height making it so his ankles are no longer covered. But he makes do, adding a pair of fluffy socks to his ensemble and using a headband to push back his unruly and slightly damp curls. 

He’s scrolling through Netflix on his laptop when there’s a knock at the door alerting him of his dinner delivery. Harry gets up quickly, paying the guy and giving him a nice tip before slinking back inside. He eats dinner on his bed, laptop nestled on his dresser playing Friends as he eats his pizza alone. 

At some point, he glances over to Louis’ side of the room. It’s fairly standard, especially when compared to his own half. Louis’ bed sports a standard blue comforter with matching blue sheets. There is only one pillow, one throw blanket he assumes is from his family at the end for when it gets cold in the winter. His desk is a mess of papers and books, his backpack on the chair not even zipped shut. The mess should bother him, Harry was absolutely a fan of order and organization, but he set it aside on the second day living here. Louis certainly wasn’t going to be his friend if he pestered him too much about cleaning. 

Hours later, Harry falls asleep to the episode where Monica and Chandler start sleeping together, his sister’s favorite couple on the show. He’d usually feel bad about leaving the show playing when he can feel sleep pulling at him, but Louis isn’t home yet, and the loud sounds of other students enjoying their weekend has him a bit jumpy. So, he leaves the show on, sure that Louis will shut his laptop when he slips in later. 

~~~

Except, Louis never comes home that night. 

Harry wakes up on Saturday morning to silence, but his laptop is still open, a black screen revealing the dead battery. With bleary eyes, he looks over to Louis’ bed and feels his brows crease when he notices that it’s empty, the familiar Louis-sized lump noticeably missing from the mess of his comforter. 

Weird . 

Louis had never stayed out for the whole night. And sure , it was only their first weekend living together, but Harry couldn’t stop the anxiety pooling in his stomach. He glances down at his phone, the photo of him and sister smiling back at him with no notifications covering the screen. He could text Louis, could just check in to make sure that he was okay. But that would be weird, right? Harry didn’t want the older boy to think he was like… his mom or something. No. Harry’s sure he’s fine. 

Luckily, the door opens a few hours later, when Harry is once again sitting against his pillows trying to get through The Brothers Karamazov . 

“I hope you’ve moved in the last twelve hours,” Louis says, forcing Harry to meet his eye. He looks fine, Harry assesses. He’s still wearing the clothes he wore out last night, but otherwise, he seems perfectly okay. Harry lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“I haven’t been sitting here for twelve hours straight,” Harry promises, a matching smile pulling at his lips when he sees Louis’. He ignores the fact that his statement is only half true. He has indeed been in his bed for… a majority of the time Louis had been gone. 

“Well, good. S’not good for you to stay still for so long.” 

Harry bites his lip as he looks back down at his book. He knows that Louis’ teasing him, but it still feels nice that he cares, or at least, seems to care. 

Louis wordlessly heads into the bathroom, the shower starting not long after. And everything goes back to normal. 

~~~

Harry wakes up the next morning, Sunday, to another empty dorm. It’s less of a shock this time, he had watched Louis get dressed again for what he assumed was a night out, but it still makes his heartbeat quicken. 

He should say something. He’s not sure of the protocol for this sort of thing, but he doesn’t think he can stand waking up with anxiety mounting every weekend. 

So, instead of making a decision for himself, he calls his sister. 

“Harry, it’s nine in the morning.” 

“Sorry, Gems,” he mumbles sleepily, laying back against his pillows and hugging his rainbow bear to his chest. “How are you?” 

He hears her sigh on the other line. “I’m fine, H. What’s up?” 

“Nothing,” he replies. There’s a few beats of silence, and Harry knows she doesn’t buy his bullshit. “Fine. Louis’ not home.” 

“Ooo-kay?” 

“Well, he’s not home. He didn’t come home last night. And he didn’t sleep here the night before, either.” Even as he explains it, he can feel his blush on his cheeks. He’s paranoid. He realizes this. He’s paranoid and he really doesn’t have the right to be when he’s just met this boy this week. It’s none of his business what Louis does outside of this room, or in it, for that matter.

Gemma sighs again through the phone, but not unkindly. She knows where his head is at without even Harry having to fully explain it. “Harry… Love, I’m sure he’s okay.” 

“I-I know,” Harry murmurs. He bites his lip. “Would it be weird if I… If I talked to him about it? Maybe asked if he could like, text me? Maybe? Just to warn me when he’s not coming back.” 

“Hm, yeah I think that’d be okay. Just explain why, H. He sounds like a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

Harry nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Gems.” 

“Of course, baby brother. Now let me sleep! I’ll call you in a few hours.” 

Harry smiles at that, hanging up with the customary I love you’s exchanged. 

He knows that Louis’ going to understand, but his anxiety still grows at the thought of having to confront him, piling in with the already existing fears that perhaps Louis is lying in a ditch somewhere.

~~~ 

When Louis finally opens the door to their dorm hours later, Harry’s already finished his homework for the entire week and is back to watching a film on his laptop. He could have gone out, of course, but the idea of trying to maneuver around the new city he now calls home on top of his racing heart regarding Louis was more than he could bear. So, here he is, hugging a stuffed animal to his chest while Simba and Nala fight their way through the trees. 

“Hey, Curly,” Louis says in greeting, his voice casual as he drops his jacket on the back of his desk chair. 

Harry nods in reply, a storm in his stomach as he anticipates the conversation he knows they need to have. 

Somehow, probably because Harry has the worst poker face in history, Louis notices his distress and stills beside his bed. “You alright, Harry? Feeling okay?” 

Harry nods again, reaching out and pressing pause on the film, even though it’s getting to the best part. “’M fine.” 

“Well… you don’t look fine. Have you left the dorm today?” 

Harry ignores him. “Can we talk? Roommate to roommate?” 

Now it’s Louis’ turn to nod, and he cautiously takes a seat on his bed so that they’re facing each other. “Is everything okay? I know I’m kind of messy, but…” Louis glances back to his side of the room. “I mean I should clean up. Sorry about that.”

Louis’ blubbering makes Harry smile a bit, appreciating that despite their age difference, Louis isn’t always Mr. Calm-Cool-and-Collected. 

“It’s not that, Lou.”

“What is it then?” 

Harry takes a deep breath, looking down at his lap for a moment. “I uh… I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be your mum or anything, but could you maybe text me when you’re not coming home at night?” He chances a glance up to Louis and bites his lip when he sees the confusion cloud his features. “I-I mean you don’t have to. I just worry.” 

“You worry?” 

“Yeah…” Harry chews further on his lip, futzing with his hands. 

Louis stands slowly and takes a seat beside Harry now, resting a comforting hand on his forearm. It makes Harry stop his nervous movements, looking back up to meet the other boys’ eyes. “Why are you worried about me, Harry? I’m fine, I promise.” 

Harry smiles sheepishly at him before replying, “It’s not you.” 

“What is it then?” Louis’ voice is soft, and Harry – despite his nerves – knows that he can trust him. 

“So… So, my step-dad died a few years ago. When I was fourteen.” He waits for Louis’ reaction, expecting the usual Oh, I’m so sorry , but it doesn’t come. Louis just gently squeezes his arm to encourage him to continue. “He got into a car accident, actually. One night he went out to go have a drink at the pub, and well… he never came home.” He bites his lip, his eyes glazing over to steel himself away from the tears that could otherwise threaten to roll down his cheeks. “I just get anxious, I guess? When I don’t know where people are. When they don’t come home.” 

Louis is quiet for a few moments and Harry doesn’t look up from the spot on the wall he’s staring at. It hasn’t gotten easier to share this story, to open himself up like this, to relive the painful memories. All the years haven’t really taken away the sting and the fear of what losing his step-dad was like. 

“Harry,” Louis eventually says. Harry’s seen Louis in a few different moods in the last week, from tired, to hungover, to stressed and rushing to his next class, and even his fond casualty around his friends the other night, but this, right now, is the softest he’s seen him. Harry feels the warmth seep into him, soothing the sting lodged in his throat. “Harry, I promise I’ll text you from now on, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t this weekend.” 

“You didn’t know,” Harry replies quickly. 

Louis shrugs, pulling the other boy into a hug. Despite his cold exterior, it’s one of the warmest hugs Harry’s ever had. “I know. But I do now, thank you for telling me.” He rubs his thumb reassuringly in slow circles Harry’s shoulder a few times before he pulls away, a sad smile on his lips. “And I’m sorry about your step-dad, Haz. That must have been awful.” 

“It was.” Harry bites his lip again, diverting his gaze when the intensity from Louis’ cerulean eyes gets to be too much. “And thank you, Lou. Really. I appreciate it. I’m sorry I had to ask.” 

“Don’t apologize! We’re going to be living together for the next year, love. We need to be able to communicate, yeah?” 

Harry nods and watches Louis stand. The smaller boy stretches his arms above his head, his neck cracking from side to side. 

“Good,” Louis says, winking at him. “I’m going to shower. If you want, we can order Chinese tonight? I’ve been craving it all week if I’m honest.” 

“That sounds great.” 

“Great. The best place is Top’s China, feel free to look up the menu.” 

So, Harry does just that, picking his favorites and creating a whole feast for them as a thank you for Louis’ kindness. When the food arrives later that evening, Louis chastises him over and over, assuring him that he doesn’t need to do anything to earn Louis’ friendship. It feels foreign to Harry, but he shrugs anyway and they eat their dinner amidst Louis’s wild stories from his earlier years at uni.

Chapter Text

Louis 

“Uh, Harry? Are you okay?” 

Louis stares blankly through the open door of the bathroom at the younger boy. It’s been three full weeks now since they moved into the dorms, and Louis is growing quite fond of his first-year roommate. He had been apprehensive a bit at first, but the lad was admittedly easy to live with. They communicated well, and after the first week, Louis’ done a better job of inviting Harry out with him. He’s noticed that Harry could be kind of a loner, so he’s tried to make the effort of including him into his plans at least a few times a week if only to get him out of the room. He found that he didn’t mind though; he genuinely enjoys Harry’s company. He’d even go so far as to say that they might be becoming friends. 

However, the list of things he has learned about Harry Styles does not explain why the curly-haired boy is sitting on the tub of their shower with just a small pair of black briefs covering his small, pert bum, a razor in his hands and cream on his insanely long legs. 

“I’m shaving my legs.” Harry says it simply, stating the obvious,not even bothering to glance over to where Louis is stood fish mouthing. 

Louis stands there for a few beats, expecting Harry to keep talking, to perhaps explain why , because obviously he knows what he was doing (he has four sisters after all), he just wanted to know why . When Harry doesn’t speak up again, Louis just shrugs and tears his eyes away. He should know better; it’s rare that Harry is ever forthcoming. 

It isn’t that strange, he figures, for a boy to want to shave their legs. Harry already paints his nails and enjoys pink fluffy sorts of things. He just… has never seen it before. In all of Louis’ experience with men, none have ever had their legs shaved. Part of him wonders what Harry’s legs would feel like, all soft and hairless.

Louis flops onto his bed, pulling out his laptop to get some homework done. Harry Styles continues to surprise him, but perhaps, that shouldn’t be much of a surprise. 

~~~ 

A few hours later, Louis finally forces himself up and out of bed, cracking his back and stretching from side to side as his body protests from sitting still for so long. Harry’s settled into his usual spot in the corner of his bed and has a large book in his lap, one Louis couldn’t ever imagine putting the time into reading. 

“Hey, Hazza,” he says, keeping his voice even toned so as to not startle the younger boy. That’s something he has learned; Harry spooks easily, and it’s best to proceed with caution whenever he isn’t expecting to be interrupted. 

Harry looks up, his eyes blinking to refocus on Louis rather than the words on the page. “Yeah?” 

“We have footie practice tonight, if you’re still wanting to come, of course.” Louis’ not sure why he’s nervous, it’s just for their local football league, and it’s only Harry, but for some reason, he feels apprehensive about the younger lad coming along. 

“Oh, yeah!” A grin blooms across the curly haired boy’s face. “Lemme just change. Though I guess, you have to, too.” 

Louis nods, very aware that the skinny jeans and hoodie he’s wearing won’t exactly be ideal for the long evening of drills they have ahead for themselves. He hits play on his pump-up playlist to fill the silence as the two get ready, the sounds of Queen and Green Day streaming through the speakers. 

The walk over to the pitch on campus is luckily not far, their dorm being fairly central on the campus, and Louis’ glad for a nice day, a rarity so late in the year. 

The practice itself is grueling in the best way. It’s just a local league, so the coach is Liam – a mildly contested choice, but one Louis had ultimately agreed with – and he had the group running drills and laps all evening. They end the night with a bit of a scrimmage amongst the boys, leading them all to collapse onto their backs in the center of the pitch when the night ends. 

“Damn, first year, you’re good!” Niall pants, tilting his head so he can look over at Harry. 

Louis looks over as well. Harry’s breathing heavily, his sweaty curls stuck to his neck, the little ponytail he had on the top of his head saving his forehead from a similar fate. He thinks he can see a soft blush across his cheeks, but they’re already ruddy from exertion, and it’s getting dark, so Louis’ not sure. 

He had to admit, Niall is right. Harry was a half-decent player, had even managed to sneak in a goal against Liam earlier in the scrimmage match. 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles, blinking his eyes a few times and keeping his gaze up at the dark sky overhead. 

Louis’ about to echo Niall’s sentiment when Liam speaks. “How about we go grab a pint and some food? Unless you lads have homework?” 

“Fuck yeah!” Louis cheers, suddenly finding the energy to jump up onto his feet. He gives a hand to Zayn and hoists him up, earning him a smile and a ‘thanks, babe.’ He takes the step over to Harry who is still laying back in the grass, offering him a hand. “C’mon, Hazza.” 

Harry meets his eye, the right side of his lips lifting up into a small smile. “Thanks.” Harry allows Louis to pull him up, brushing himself off once he’s standing. “I… I do kind of have homework to finish,” he mumbles softly.

Louis raises an eyebrow. The other boys have made their way off the field, their bags on their shoulders as they presumably head towards the pub on the outskirts of campus. “I know that’s a lie.” Harry laughs, and Louis smiles. “Harry, you do homework all the time. I won’t push you, but you should join us! The beers are the best part of practice.” 

Harry laughs again, picking up the bag he had brought and sitting down to change into a pair of beat up pink Converse and out of his cleats. Louis plops down to do the same, shoving his feet into a pair of black Vans. 

“So, you’ll come?” Louis asks once they’re done. 

Harry nods bashfully, his hands shoved into the pockets of his track jacket. “Yeah. Thanks for inviting me, Lou.” 

Louis is beaming as they fall into step beside each other, a few meters back from the rest of the group. They’ll catch up, or at the very least, the other lads will save them seats. He’s not worried.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks. 

“Yeah, yeah it was really fun! I’m not really that good, but it was nice to get some exercise, to let out some steam.” 

Louis nods in understanding and hums softly. “You know you’re not as bad as you think you are, right? You’re pretty good, and we certainly could use someone else quick on their feet on the team.” He’s being a bit full of himself, but he figures it’s earned. He’s easily the fastest in the bunch. 

Harry is chewing on his lip when Louis looks over at him, illuminated by the street lights lighting their path. “Thanks, Lou.” 

“Of course.” The two are silent for a few minutes, the town coming alive around them as they walk towards the pub. “The guys really like you, you know. I know they seem friendly, but they don’t warm up to just anyone.” 

Harry laughs loudly and elbows him; he can see right through Louis’ bullshit. “Yeah, right.” 

“I’m serious!” Louis protests, joining him with his own little giggles. Even he’s not buying it. And who was he really kidding? His friends are the best. “Alright, but still. They definitely like having you around, you’re always welcome with us, okay?” 

The younger boy nods, glancing Louis’ way with a serious expression on his face. Louis can almost catch a shimmer in his eyes, like he might be about to cry. “Thank you, Louis. Really. I-I’ve never actually had a group of friends before, at least not a proper group of mates.” 

Louis stills, unintentionally stopping his place. 

Harry takes a few steps before he notices and turns to look back at Louis with his eyebrows stitched together. “What?” 

“I just-“ 

“It’s fine!” Harry says quickly, taking two large steps so that he’s standing in front of Louis. “I had friends. I had my mum, my sister. I just never exactly fit in with ‘the guys’ before, you know?” 

Louis nods, though his forehead is wrinkling with how serious his face is. “I guess so, but-“ 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable!” Harry adds, once again interrupting him.

It makes Louis smile despite the pain he feels in his chest at how cute Harry is for trying to defend himself so fervently. It’s not even something he needs to defend himself for either; Louis gets it. Teenagers can be cruel and Harry is… different. He’s confident in himself in ways most boys aren’t. He expresses himself in ways that are unfamiliar to most boys, too. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Haz. You don’t make any of us uncomfortable. I meant what I said, the boys like you.”

Harry smiles, letting out a relieved sigh. “Good. I like them too.” 

“Good,” Louis echoes. He blinks a few times before pulling Harry into a sweaty hug. It’s a bit awkward, but eventually Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and hugs back, allowing Louis to pat between his shoulder blades a few times before pulling away. “C’mon, first round is on me.” 

The two walk the last block in comfortable silence, the last bit of quiet before they open the doors to a rowdy pub and an even rowdier group of friends. 

~~~

It’s a few days later when Louis realizes that he’s run out of the snacks his mum had stuffed his car with before he left for school. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he squats beside his bed, looking at the empty tub that used to be full of crisps and cookies and cereal. It’s depressing, and he knows he needs to restock. 

“Harry…” he calls, drawing out the last syllable, a hopeful lilt in his voice. 

“Yeah?” Harry replies from where he’s sat at his desk, hunched over and focused as he swipes paint over his nails. 

Louis stands, taking the few steps so he can lean against the other boys’ desk. He glances down at Harry, at the pale purple paint in his hand. Louis figures it’s really more of a lilac. Harry looks up at him now, an eyebrow raised in a question since Louis’ not said anything. 

“Uh, want to come to Tesco’s?”  

A smile blooms across Harry’s face and he nods with an enthusiasm that would be annoying in anyone else, but somehow fits him perfectly. “Yes please! I need more fruit.” 

Louis nods, holding back a fond eye roll. He’s barely seen Harry eat any junk food since they moved in; he always snacks on something healthy, like fruit or nuts, even the occasional vegetable. It’s gross.

“Alright, finish up your nails, and we’ll head out.” 

Harry’s still grinning when he turns back to his hands, swiping a few more coats of paint on his pinky and ring finger. Louis pushes himself off and sits down to tie his shoes, glad to have company. He’s not sure why he despises going to the grocers alone, but he does, and he’s glad that Harry is happy to join him. It’s a safe bet that he’ll always want to come, especially since the younger boy doesn’t have a car and the closest Tesco is a bit of walk. 

Louis’ in a good mood today, so he lets Harry control the AUX cord while they drive, flooding his worn out car with the sounds of ABBA. The first time Harry played them, he had just about wanted to off himself, but maybe some of their songs were good. Maybe . 

Which is why Louis is still humming ‘Chiquitita’ as he pushes the buggy through the aisles of Tesco behind Harry. The curly haired boy is picking through the produce and Louis holds back from teasing him. He looks too peaceful right now, sifting through the bananas for the perfect bunch. 

However, he can’t hold himself back when he starts picking out vegetables. “Cucumbers, Harry, really?” 

“What’s wrong with cucumbers?” 

“They’re deliberately provocative!”  

Harry laughs so loudly he has to cover his mouth with his hand, but soft giggles still escape his lips as he tosses two cucumbers into their cart. “There is nothing provocative about cucumbers, Louis. Get your mind out of the bloody gutter.” 

Louis just shrugs, his denim jacket-clad shoulder rising and falling. 

They continue through the store, Harry picking out healthy granola bars and packages of oatmeal, Louis tossing in bag after bag of crisps. He ignores Harry’s pointed looks his way; cheese and onion are worth the inevitable heart disease. 

The check-out process goes as perhaps could be expected; Harry attempts to put back some of Louis’ junk food, Louis fights him and packs the bags, giving Harry his card to pay at the end. They’ll split the expenses via Venmo later. It’s comfortable and familiar, Louis realizes, as they walk out of the store through the automatic doors. 

He has a smile on his face as he thinks about it when a loud voice yells out to them, or more specifically, to Harry. 

“Hey, Princess, come over here and show me what those pretty lips can do!”

Louis freezes and can feel Harry stiffen beside him. He wraps a protective arm around Harry’s waist, his hand fitting into the dip there. He exhales heavily as he squares his shoulders, puffing out his chest and making himself appear bigger. He had never been large, but after years of being bullied, he had learned self-defense and knew how to fight. The tattoos that littered his body were usually enough of a turn off nowadays though: he no longer looked like an easy target.

Louis steers Harry away, squeezing him tightly into his side. He can sense Harry’s panic, so he tries to ignore the men who are jeering at him. They’re a few meters away, leaning up against the side wall of the shop in an alley between the buildings, cigarettes hanging from their lips. 

“Didn’t you hear us, Princess? Or has that little twink boyfriend of yours made you stupid?” 

Louis steels his expression, flipping the men the bird over Harry’s shoulder as he opens the passenger door and gently pushes Harry inside. “Fuck off, alright?” 

“What did you just say?” 

Louis takes a deep breath, shucking off his jacket and tossing it onto the hood of the car. He knows what he looks like when covered up, but as soon as his ink is on display, arseholes like this tend to take him more seriously. The men look him up and down and nod once, twice. 

“Fine, mate. Just tell your little girlfriend to not be so fruity next time.” 

Louis holds back an expletive and wordlessly grabs his jacket and shoves their bags into the backseat. He slips into the driver’s seat and pulls out of the lot as quickly as he can, nearly running over a granny who was just doing her weekly shop. Harry screams, but Louis barely hears it over the ringing in his ears. 

He had been bullied a bit as a kid, like most gay boys their age, but as soon as his classmates realized he was both funny and tough, they started to let it go. Once he started getting tattoos, they left him alone entirely. 

When they reach the first stoplight his breathing is settling down and he finally glances over at Harry.

Because there Harry is, in his passenger seat, with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s staring blankly ahead, looking incredibly small, and Louis wants to pull over and hug him tight. He doesn’t, because they’re still less than a kilometer from the shop, but he has to fight the urge.

“Harry? Harry love, we’re okay,” he murmurs, his body itching to at least rest a reassuring hand on the other boy’s thigh. He doesn’t know if Harry’s comfortable with that though, because they haven’t really talked about physical touch sorta stuff, and he desperately doesn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. 

When Harry stays silent through the next light, Louis makes the executive decision to pull over, coming to a stop right outside an ice cream shop. 

He shifts in his seat so he’s facing his roommate, handing him an old t-shirt from the back of his car to use as a tissue if he needs it. 

“Thanks,” Harry says on an exhale, using the black material of the shirt to wipe his face. 

“Harry,” Louis whispers, chewing on his bottom lip. For being the oldest brother to four sisters, he has a hard time knowing what to say. “Harry, are you okay? We’re safe, love. We’re safe. They’re not going to hurt you, okay? I’d never let them even get close.” 

He watches as the tiniest of smiles pulls at Harry’s lips. His heart soars a bit. Maybe he’s not so bad at this comforting thing after all. 

“I know.” Harry takes a deep breath, his gaze trained on where he’s playing with the sleeves of his light blue sweater. Louis had thought earlier how lovely it looked with the pearl necklace he was wearing. “Thank you, Lou.” 

“You don’t have to thank me.” 

Harry glances his way. “I know,” he repeats, hiccupping in a breath. “Still, thanks. I-I get that… that sort of… attention a lot. I-It just gets scary I guess.” 

Louis frowns, reaching a hand out and leaving it as a wordless offer between them. “I’m so sorry, Harry.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not,” Louis says firmly, smiling sadly when Harry takes his hand and squeezes it. He squeezes back, running this thumb across Harry’s knuckles. “Harry, that’s not okay. Ever. You don’t deserve that; nobody does.” 

Harry just shrugs and looks back at his lap. “I-I deserved it. At least they didn’t hurt me this time.” 

“What did you say?” Harry stiffens again, and Louis mentally curses himself for the edge that found its way into his voice. He squeezes Harry’s hand again. “Sorry. I… What did you say?” 

Harry doesn’t reply, but Louis can see the tears well back up in his eyes. A few escape and roll down his cheek and into the shirt in his lap. Fuck . 

“Harry,” Louis breathes. “What can I do?” He has so many questions, so much he wants to ask, to somehow go back into the past and protect Harry from whoever hurt him, to pummel them to a pulp for ever making Harry think that he somehow deserved to be hurt. Fuck!  

“C-Can we just go home? A-And watch a movie, or something. Anything.” 

Louis nods, running his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand before he begrudgingly lets go, needing both hands to drive. “Of course, love. Whatever you want, okay? What’s that movie you’ve been complaining I’ve never seen? Aristocats ?” Harry nods his head just a tiny bit, but doesn’t smile. Louis wants to cry.

He drives home quickly but safely, mindful of the curly haired boy’s fragile state. Back on campus, Louis manages to carry all the bags up to the dorm while also keeping a watchful eye on Harry. He sets their food down, taking the time to put the perishable items into the mini fridge while Harry toes off his boots and settles into bed, clicking on his laptop to pull up the movie. 

Louis wordlessly tugs on a clean sweater and slips off his own Vans before tentatively climbing onto Harry’s bed. Despite the numerous things they’ve done together, sitting on the same bed while watching a film hasn’t been one of them. The only time they’ve watched movies has been at the guys’ flat. He suddenly feels awkward, not sure what to do or where to put his hands. Harry’s laying on his side, still sniffling quietly, and Louis still just wants to give him a cuddle.

Luckily, Harry’s on the same page. “Hey Lou?” 

“Yeah, Haz?” 

“Can we maybe…Would you…Cuddle?” 

Louis smiles, unable to stop himself. “Of course,” he replies, laying down on his side and wrapping an arm around Harry, his head fitting onto the other boys’ shoulder. “Is this okay, H?”

Harry nods, pulling on Louis’ arm so that it’s tighter around his torso, covering Louis’ hand with his own where it rests on top of his stomach. 

Louis smiles as the familiar Disney melody plays through the speakers on Harry’s laptop, the castle coming into view on the blue background. He hasn’t been this close to someone platonically in ages, hasn’t had a proper cuddle since he was home. One night stands help, but they’re not the same. 

Harry’s taller than him by a few inches, but somehow they fit so well like this. Louis can’t help but notice when Harry’s breathing begins to even out as the animated kittens strut onto the screen, the other boy humming as they play the piano. It’s not the best view for watching a movie, but Louis doesn’t mind, even when his curly-haired roommate eventually falls asleep on top of his arm before the film even ends. 

Chapter Text

Harry

After the Tesco incident, Harry had had a nightmare of a magnitude he hadn’t experienced in ages. Louis had been sleeping in his own bed at that point, but the older boy had woken up when Harry screamed and was back in his bed in a blink of an eye. Louis whispered soft reassurances to him and petted his hair until he fell back asleep, feeling safe in Louis’ arms. 

After that, cuddles with Louis become more frequent. It’s never anything too intimate, Harry presumes, but a few days a week he comes back from class to find Louis in his bed watching a show or a movie and wordlessly climbs into bed with him. That, or Harry will slip into the empty space in Louis’ bed in the middle of the night and wait for the other boy to curl around him, enveloping him in his arms. 

It does wonders for Harry’s mental health, and he finds himself becoming more outgoing with every passing day. He’s sleeping better too. Harry doesn’t let his mind connect the fact that it is Louis who is bringing it out of him, because that would be a lot to attribute to a new friend, but he at least allows himself to be thankful for the closeness that he had been missing the first few weeks of school. 

What doesn’t change, however, are Louis’ weekend habits. 

He’s not sure why he figured it would, necessarily, but regardless, Louis continues to spend Friday and Saturday nights elsewhere. He does, however, always remember to send Harry a text letting him know that he’s okay around 11pm each night. The check ins make Harry feel lighter, though still a bit concerned as to where Louis sleeps those nights. It’s none of his business, but he still wants to know.

It’s mid-October when Louis sleeps in his own bed for the first time on the weekend. 

He does not sleep alone. 

Harry is going about his nightly routine in the bathroom, a fluffy headband holding his curls out of the way while he waits for his face mask to set, singing along to the Spice Girls, when he hears the door to their dorm open and shut quickly. His eyebrows furrow and he glances at himself in the mirror briefly before he peeks the door to the bathroom open. 

What he sees has him shutting the door as fast as possible. 

Louis was pinned up against the door of their dorm, the door that holds random sticky notes they have left each other over the last couple of weeks. The man pinning him there was someone Harry hadn’t seen before, or at least, he didn’t think he'd seen him before, but he hadn’t left the door open long enough to really tell. 

Louis brought a man home . 

Harry blinks in shock at the situation, at a loss for what he’s supposed to do. Does he just pretend it’s not happening? Does he leave for a few hours? Is he supposed to find somewhere else to sleep tonight? Louis had to know that he’d be here; he never left for very long on the weekends. But Louis also hadn’t texted warning him that he was bringing a guest over. 

A loud moan seeps under the door of the bathroom and Harry gulps. 

There’s no way he’s staying here tonight. 

But, of course, he realizes as he looks at himself in the glass, he still has a face mask on. He’s not even properly dressed! He looks down at his ratty pink fluffy pajama bottoms he’s had for ages and his white and blue unicorn tye-dye t-shirt. He’s not even dressed warm enough to go outside. 

He takes a deep breath, mentally going through his contact list of whom to call. He could call his sister, he figures, but asking her to drive all this way felt silly. He’s an adult, he can figure this out on his own. 

Harry glances down at his phone, making the executive decision to text Liam. The two weren’t particularly close, Harry was definitely closest to Louis in the group, but they all called him the dad of the friend group for a reason, right? 

Harry: hey Liam… can I maybe come crash at your flat tonight? 

Liam: Sure! Is everything okay?

Harry stills, not sure how much he should be sharing about his roommate’s sex life. But, then again, Liam had lived with Louis last year so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be aware of Louis’ weekend habits, right? 

Harry: yeah, Lou just has someone over. don’t want to… interrupt? 

Liam: Say no more. Can you walk or do you want me to send Zayn to pick you up? 

Harry: if he wouldn’t mind…

Liam: He’ll be there in 10! Hope you’re not tired, we’re having a FIFA tournament! 

Harry smiles at the text, immediately knowing that he made the right decision. Liam was great, and spending his evening with Zayn and Niall was infinitely better than continuing to listen to the sounds of… whatever Louis was doing out there. 

He makes quick work of wiping off his face mask, adding a bit of moisturizer and skipping the rest of his routine in favor of slipping out of the room as quickly as possible. That of course, proved to be its own challenge. But he opts to just grabbing a random hoodie on his way out, holding it in front of his face as he silently leaves the room. Luckily, the two men in Louis’ bed are too preoccupied to notice him, so he is able to escape without any permanent emotional damage.

As Harry steps out of the front doors of his building, he smiles seeing Zayn’s red hatchback. 

“Hey,” Zayn greets, warm as ever. For an intimidating looking person, the raven-haired boy sure was soft around Harry, the other boys too, of course, but maybe especially Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry breathes, pulling the hoodie on over his head. He glances down and notices that it’s one of Louis’ footie sweaters and mentally kicks himself for it. Zayn seems to notice as well, as he’s chuckling when he pulls away from the curb. 

The two make small talk as Zayn navigates them back to his flat, easily helping Harry out of his usual shell. Somewhere over the last few weeks, he’s grown close to these boys, and he finds himself hiding away less and less. He wasn’t even worried about them making comments on what he wore anymore, not the least bit self-conscious around Zayn even in the fluffy trousers he had on. 

Liam and Niall greet Harry excitedly as he walks into the flat behind Zayn, and he can’t help but smile. He meant what he said to Louis; he had never had a group of friends before, but he thinks he could get used to this. Eventually. He hasn’t gotten there yet, though, and this all still feels a bit out of place in his life.

“Everything alright back home?” Liam asks once Harry settles on a cushion on the floor. It’s his usual spot when they’re playing a game or watching something on the TV. He loves that he has a usual spot in their flat. 

Harry chews on his lip then takes a sip of the beer Niall set down in front of him. “Yeah, yeah. I just… Louis brought a guy over and I… I don’t think I want to see that?” 

It’s quiet for a minute until Niall breaks the silence with a loud guffaw of a laugh, one that makes Zayn chuckle too. Liam’s serious though, thoughtful as he thinks over what to say. 

“Does he do that a lot?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No, no. This is the first time. I guess I didn’t know what you’re supposed to do in this situation? You’re sure it’s okay if I crash here tonight?” 

Liam nods, reaching over Zayn to pat his shoulder. “You’re always welcome here, mate.” Zayn nods with a fond expression beside him. Not for the first time, Harry recognizes how cute they are together, how well they balance each other out. He hopes he has that one day. 

“Has Lou been staying out a lot?” Zayn asks, waiting until Liam and Niall have started playing a new round on the Xbox before he spoke. 

Harry glances back at him. “Uh, I guess so? I don’t know what a lot is, truthfully. But he’s… rarely in the dorm on the weekends.” 

Zayn nods, though his expression has shifted from concerned to straight worried. Harry chews on his lip again, worried that he’s over stepped and broken Louis’ trust somehow. But, if he’s honest with himself, he’s been curious about Louis’ behavior too. He never talks about where he goes on the weekends or whom he’s with. It’d be fine if Louis didn’t tell him practically everything else about his day normally, and Harry had a feeling he wasn’t just going out with the boys or he would have been invited. 

“Is that not normal?” Harry eventually asks, this time drawing the attention of Liam as well who hits pause on the game. 

“Well,” Liam sighs, glancing to Zayn who nods for him to continue. 

“He’s Lou’s friend now, babe. He should probably know.” 

Harry watches as Liam hums and squeezes Zayn’s knee before continuing, “Louis wasn’t really like this before. He went out, sure. But usually with us. As first-years and second-years, we went out to the clubs almost every weekend.” 

“We should go again! That used to be fun!” Niall adds, earning him an eye roll from Liam. 

“Sure, Ni,” Liam says as an empty promise. “Anyways, we just went for fun. Maybe sometimes one of us – well, really just Niall,” Liam gestures to Niall and Zayn smirks. “Would pull. But, Louis always had Robbie.” 

“Who’s Robbie?” Harry asks. He’s never heard Louis even mention the name. He didn’t think he had a boyfriend, but then again, how would he know? Maybe that’s where Louis went all the time…

“Robbie’s Lou’s ex,” Zayn supplies, his face turned steely. “They dated off and on for over a year, then Robbie up and left over the summer.” 

Harry frowns as he chews on his bottom lip. Who would hurt Louis?  

Liam sighs, squeezing his boyfriend closer as he gets more heated. “Robbie… He played a lot of mind games. Was always very hot or cold, you know?” Harry doesn’t know, not at all, but he nods anyway. “He would promise the world then tell Louis it was all in his head. It was a very unique sort of fucked up, but it’s been…” 

“Difficult,” Zayn supplies.

“Yeah, difficult for Louis to get over him. He gave up most of his time in uni to this guy, had been strung along for so long, just to find out that he had had a girlfriend back home the whole time. I guess… Lou might be trying to make up for lost time?” 

“Or he refuses to confront his feelings and actually process them.” 

Harry looks between Zayn and Liam, the tension and pain obvious. It’s clear they really love Louis, and Harry can feel his own chest hurting hearing about his roommate’s heartbreak. Who leads someone on like that? Who dates two people at once? Arsehole . 

“I’ll talk to him, okay, babe?” Zayn says after a few moments of silence. Liam nods and presses a kiss to his cheek. Despite the palpable tension, they’re still cute. Harry smiles just a little bit. 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

Zayn shrugs and looks back to where Harry is seated on the floor. “I don’t think so, mate. Lou’s gonna have to work this out on his own. Or with us. Or with a therapist. Ideally a therapist.” 

Harry holds back a sigh and instead rests a hand on Zayn’s calf. “You guys are really good friends. Louis’ lucky to have you.” 

Zayn smiles at that and shrugs bashfully. “He’s a great person, Harry. I’m sorry you’re seeing this side of him, but he’s a great friend, normally. It was rude of him to bring a stranger home and not warn you.” 

They all turn back to the game after that, but Harry’s busy thinking about his roommate. They’re really starting to become close, and Harry would consider Louis one of the best friends he’s ever had, but the fact that he’s been hiding this part of his life – hiding his hurt – for so long makes Harry sad. Then again, Harry muses, it’s not like he’s been forthcoming with his own past, so maybe they’re even. 

~~~

After making the boys breakfast the next morning, the least Harry felt he could do, he decides to head back home. He accepts Liam’s invitation for a ride, because despite his need to not be a bother, he doesn’t really want to walk the half hour back to his building in his pajamas. 

Harry finds himself standing awkwardly in front of Louis’ and his door, the brown wood staring back at him. It’s not early by any means. So, hopefully Louis’ guest has left by now. That’s how one night stands work, right? 

Harry takes a deep, calming breath. He checks his watch, reading that it’s half past two before he finally slots his key into the hole and turns the doorknob. 

Blessedly, the room is empty. 

Harry exhales. 

He walks in slowly, somehow still feeling awkward and uncomfortable in his own space. He’s not even necessarily sure why . Maybe just because it feels a little bit like an invasion of space, even though it’s Louis’ space too, and he has every right to bring home whomever he wants. It also smells very strongly like sex in here.

Harry lights a candle. 

After, he moves to his chest of drawers, pulling out a fresh pair of clothes: black leggings and his favorite soft purple jumper, the very one he wore on move in day. He has a lot of studying to do, so he figures he might as well be comfortable. He changes quickly, dropping the clothes he slept in in his own hamper, knowing Louis rarely did his laundry. His head snaps up when he hears a noise from the bathroom. He freezes just as he’s grabbing a pair of fluffy pink polka dot socks out of his bottom drawer. 

When nobody immediately opens the door to the en suite, Harry decides to get settled on his bed. He sets himself up with a pillow behind his back and his stuffies close by before grabbing his book to finish reading. They have a quiz this week and Harry wants to reread The Brothers Karamozov one last time . It’s long, too long, but he wants to do well, and the story isn’t that bad. Though he doesn’t quite understand why his professor loves it so dearly. 

As Harry pulls out his bookmark and sets the opened book on his lap, the bathroom door opens, revealing a shirtless Louis. Harry glances up from under his eyelashes, holding his breath without realizing it in hopes that his roommate is alone. He only exhales when the door shuts without anyone else stepping out. 

Louis wordlessly finds a long sleeve tee in his pile of clean clothes. The autumn chill permeating the space makes it difficult to be shirtless nowadays. Before Harry can say anything, Louis is climbing into his bed. Harry bites back a smile as he lifts up his large book, allowing Louis to rest his head in his lap. He can’t hide his smile, however, when Louis reaches for the white blanket on the end of the bed, wrapping himself in it, then stealing one of Harry’s stuffed animals and hugging it to his chest. It’s adorable, frankly, and Harry can’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Louis anymore. Not when Louis is so soft and cuddly.

Harry wants to giggle thinking about how intimidated he was when they first met, when this, he now knows, is the real Louis. All soft on the inside, despite the skull and dagger tattoos, the nose ring, and the wardrobe full of tight black pants. 

“Hey,” Louis eventually mumbles. 

Harry looks up from the page he absolutely wasn’t paying attention to. 

“Hey…” 

Louis shifts a bit, burrowing further into Harry’s space. 

When he doesn’t offer any further greeting, Harry decides it’s probably okay to bring up what Liam had told him earlier. Because while cuddly Louis is always a welcome addition to his bed, this is perhaps not the most normal behavior after a one night stand. Or at least, a one night stand with someone else . 

“Lou… Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asks, setting his book aside again and instead gently running his fingers through Louis’ damp hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. 

Louis frowns and shuts his eyes. Harry can see the way his forehead is creased as if he’s trying to block out Harry completely. The way he leans into the touch on his head gives him away, though. 

After a few minutes of silence, Harry tries again. He’s nothing if not persistent, especially with Louis. 

“Liam said you had a bad breakup,” Harry murmurs, biting his lip when he feels Louis stiffen in his lap. He pushes past the urge to abort the mission completely, instead continuing his soft touches. “You don’t have to talk about it, Lou. But I’m here, okay? If you want to. I’m here. I want to listen.” 

Louis’ quiet again, squeezing the rainbow teddy bear tight to his chest. After some time, with a soft voice, he says, “I miss him, Harry. How fucked up is that?” 

Harry doesn’t know what to say. He’s dated a few guys, casually. After a few dates they realize that he’s not the typical guy or that they’re really more into girls. It hurts, but Harry doesn’t take it personally; he’s confident he’ll find the right person eventually. But, that does mean that he has no real experience as to how to comfort his roommate right now. He has no idea what to say. So instead, he shifts down the bed so he and Louis are lying down and facing each other, Rainbow Bear between them.

Luckily, Louis’ the one who speaks up again. “I just miss him. Which is stupid. I know he’s not coming back this time. I don’t even want him to. Not really. Not with a sane mind.” Louis speaks quietly, evenly, a hint of sadness in his voice. Harry wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him a little closer. “I just need a distraction sometimes, I guess. A reminder that like… I don’t know. That guys do want me, you know?” 

And, once again, Harry really doesn’t. He’s never been a one-night-stand kind of guy. He needs a date first, at the very least. He likes to know who he’s sleeping with. 

When Harry doesn’t speak, Louis chuckles wetly. “Okay, maybe you don’t know.”

Harry giggles sheepishly with a small shake of his head. He almost feels bad, but then Louis finally meets his eyes, and he’s smiling. It even reaches his eyes. Harry feels like the sun is shining again.

“I don’t,” Harry whispers quietly. “But Louis… You… Well, you can do that if you want. But you’re really great. Any guy would be lucky to have you. For one night, or for longer.” 

Harry feels stupid as soon as the words leave his lips, and he closes his eyes to avoid the awkward look he’s sure that his roommate is sending him. When he eventually sneaks a peak, Louis is looking at him with nothing but kindness, a tiny smile pulling the corners of his lips upwards. 

“Thank you,” Louis says eventually. He blinks his eyes at Harry a few times and reaches his hand up to brush against Harry’s cheek, moving to tuck a curl behind his ear. “I know that in theory,” he continues, shifting now to lay on his back. He glances at Harry, nodding his head when the younger boy moves to rest his head on Louis’ shoulder, back to how they normally cuddle. Harry distracts himself by tracing over the tattoos on Louis’ arm. “I guess I just need the reminder sometimes. But uh… I don’t know. Last night didn’t feel good.” 

Harry glances up at him from under his lashes, and it makes Louis groan.

“Okay, well… it felt good,” Louis amends with a laugh. “But you know, after. It didn’t then. I-I didn’t know his name, still don’t. He left right after, and then you weren’t here and I just…”

Harry hums softly, still not sure what the right thing to say would be, but Louis’ rubbing small circles on his back and he can’t help but feel a bit sleepy. The night spent on Liam, Zayn, and Niall’s couch wasn’t exactly comfortable. 

The two are quiet for a while, Harry’s eyelids growing heavy. He can feel Louis’ heartbeat under his cheek, can feel his stomach expand under his arm with every breath. 

“Can we… Can we maybe hang out next weekend, H?” 

“Of course, Lou. You know I never have plans.” 

Louis smiles, though Harry only knows from the change in the atmosphere of the room. Louis buries his nose in Harry’s curls and presses a kiss to his head. 

“Do you want to take a nap?” 

There’s rain falling outside their window now, the autumn chill permeating further into their small dorm, and Harry can’t think of anything he wants more. 

“Yes, please.” 

~~~

As promised, Louis spends the following weekend with Harry. He doesn’t go out to a single club or party. He doesn’t bring anyone home, either. And Harry even thinks that Louis looks like he’s having fun. 

Friday night they went over to the guys’ flat, ordering too much pizza and drinking beers while watching Spiderman: Far from Home – Zayn’s pick. The night ended with Louis driving them home and the two falling asleep in Harry’s bed. 

It’s now Saturday morning, and Harry blinks awake feeling a warm weight pressed against his back. He smiles to himself before carefully slipping out of Louis’ hold, replacing his spot with a few stuffed animals. Louis adorably burrows further into their cuddly bodies, and Harry has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He’ll never get over how funny Louis looks like this, the piercing of his nose and the skull on his wrist in complete contrast with the colourful stuffies he’s holding. He snaps a picture on his phone instead, saving the memory. 

Harry makes his way into the bathroom, rolling his eyes when he sees Louis’ socks on the floor by the shower. Louis has certainly made an effort to be more tidy since their first week living together, but now, a few months in, Harry’s beginning to think that he’s regressed back to his messy state. Luckily they’re friends now, so Harry won’t mind asking again. Later, of course. He’d never wake Sleeping Beauty over there. 

After relieving himself quickly, he washes his hands with the vanilla pumpkin soap he had bought for autumn, smiling to himself at the way it feels more festive already by smelling its scent. It’s the little things. Luckily, Louis didn’t seem to mind. 

Harry fishes out a fluffy pink headband from his bin beside the sink, turning on the tap to begin his morning skincare routine. He washes his face with a sweet smelling brown sugar scrub, moving next to some spot cream for the two pimples that are aggravatingly starting to show on his chin. He moves next to carefully rub in some vitamin C serum, letting it seep into his skin as he brushes his teeth. After, he adds some moisturizer with SPF before taking the headband out and putting everything back where it belongs.

He yawns as he looks at himself in the mirror. His hair is a bit flat, but he’s too tired to really fix it. Especially not if he and Louis are just having a study day. He doesn’t actually have much homework left to complete for the week, but he knows Louis has a project due for Econ on Tuesday and should really complete it early. He has a terrible habit of leaving things to the last minute, and it sort of drives Harry crazy.

Harry picks up a hair clip from the collection he keeps in his bin, using it to keep the fringe out of his eyes. He runs just a hint of product through his curls, scrunching them to form a better shape before determining himself good enough to start the day.

When Harry emerges from the bathroom, he’s surprised to see Louis awake, his phone hovering over his face as he lays on his back, still surrounded by Harry’s stuffies. 

“Good morning,” Louis says over a yawn, tilting his screen down to give Harry a small smile. 

“Hey,” he says back, depositing Louis’ socks in his hamper with a pointed look Louis’ way.

Louis sheepishly shrugs, stretching his whole body out like a cat and yawning. “Sorry.” 

Harry just rolls his eyes, settling on his desk chair. 

“So, what are the plans today, Hazza?” 

Louis stands, swinging his legs out of bed dramatically. Harry wonders if this is the earliest Louis’ woken up on a Saturday morning all semester. 

“I don’t have plans. We don’t have a game for footie this week right?” 

Louis nods, yawning again. “Yep, yep. Games next week, a friendly match I think. It’ll be good. We actually have a chance this year.” He winks to Harry, though the other boy is keenly aware that his playing is in no way contributing towards that confidence. “Anyways… what are we doing today?” 

“Why is it my job to determine what we do today?” Harry asks. More accurately, why was it his job to determine what Louis was going to do today.

“I don’t know what the other half does on Saturdays, Harold,” Louis retorts, changing into a pair of jeans and a jumper before heading towards the en suite. 

Harry laughs fondly, resting back against his chair. “The other half?” 

“Yes,” Louis calls from the bathroom. “People like you who are up and dressed before noon.” 

Harry looks down at his old pair of flannel pajama bottoms. “I’m not dressed!” Harry yells back, though he knows the point is moot. 

He hears the toilet flush and the sink turn on. 

“So, I repeat, what are we doing today, Haz?” Louis asks once the water stops. 

Harry bites his lip as he thinks for a minute. He knows if he suggests a day of studying that Louis will at the very least tease him if not downright tackle him. And, if he’s honest, the sun is shining in the way it so rarely does in England, and it looks like a nice – albeit cold – day outside their window. 

“How about we hit the shops? It’s my mum’s birthday soon and I need to find her a present.” 

Louis emerges, a grin on his face. “That sounds lovely. I can take you to that café too, the one Zayn is always talking about.” 

Harry can feel his dimples cratering his cheeks as he returns Louis’ smile. It sounds like the most perfect Saturday, and who is he to say no to pastries and coffee? 

Chapter Text

Louis

He can’t believe that Harry had insisted he purchase glittery joggers. 

But really, when Harry was giving him that look, the one where he manages to look small despite being a few inches taller than him with those wide moss green eyes and pouty lips, he’s powerless to say no.

So, Louis bought the glittery joggers, which he is from henceforth referring to as speckle joggers because that sounds better. Maybe. 

Overall, the weekend hadn’t been as bad as he thought it would be. He had agreed to stay in, avoiding the texts from his pre-law mates encouraging him to come out with them, but he hadn’t expected to enjoy himself so much. It had been the longest period of time since his break up with Robbie that he had slept in his own bed.

Or, well, his own room. 

Same thing. 

~~~

Louis continues to spend his weekends with Harry as the final leaves fall from the trees, effectively taking them from a lovely late autumn to a bleary and grey early winter. 

Going round to Liam, Zayn, and Niall’s flats on Friday evenings with Harry became tradition. Sometimes someone – usually Harry – cooks dinner, but more often than not, they find somewhere to get take out. Louis bemoans the fact that gone are the days when they would have lads nights at a nearby club. When did they get old ? 

Anyways, it’s a chilly Friday in the middle of November when Louis begins to accept that he’s enjoying the new routine. It’s his fourth weekend staying in and he honestly doesn’t mind it anymore. He doesn’t even have the itch to get drunk and find a warm body to get off with. His old mates don’t bother texting him anymore, either. 

“Let’s try that new Indian place tonight,” Zayn suggests as he falls onto the couch. Liam easily curls his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and pulls him closer. Louis holds back his eye roll, because really, he is happy for them, and they are maybe slightly less infuriating than they used to be. Or he’s finally just getting used to their PDA. 

“Works for me,” Louis replies, pulling out his phone to look up the menu and phone number. He’s sitting on the floor, his back against the couch with Harry curled up behind him. As the menu loads, he feels Harry look over his shoulder, reading alongside him. “This work for you?” 

“Yeah, I’ll get a curry, you can pick which,” Harry murmurs, and Louis can hear the smile on his lips. Harry had been the one to point the restaurant out to Zayn last week after the two had gone shopping for new art supplies, and Louis knew Harry would be happy that Zayn remembered and suggested it tonight. 

The other boys write down their orders as well, passing them to Louis to make the call. They all settle into their spots after the order is placed, well aware that it could be awhile on a Friday night in a busy university neighbourhood to get their food. 

They’re halfway through their third round of Fifa when the doorbell rings, Liam getting up to answer it. Niall stands as well, grabbing a new round of beers for everyone as well as forks and knives and a roll of paper towel. They certainly have this down to a science. 

As Liam walks back into the living room, the delicious smell of curry envelops the room like a hug. Louis can feel Harry jittering above him with excitement. His roommate is an overgrown child. 

“Alright, Lou, you ordered the curry,” Liam says, handing the take-out container to him. He nods, listening as Liam announces each dish and hands them out: curry for Harry, pad thai for Niall and Liam, chicken makhani for Zayn. 

“Smells great, Harry, good pick,” Zayn says as they all settle back into their seats. Niall takes the remote and flips on whatever footie game he could find. 

It all feels so domestic and comfortable, and Louis can’t help but feel like he’s back home with his family in Doncaster. 

“So, thoughts on the new place?” Liam asks between bites. 

“It’s good!” Harry chirps, happily digging into his food. 

Niall hums, swallowing before saying, “Yeah, this is really good. Want to try a bite?” 

Harry nods, reaching over to take Niall’s fork. 

Luckily, something clicks in Louis’ brain, and he quickly snatches the utensil out of his hand, dropping it into his own take out container. 

Niall stares, confused, as Harry slaps Louis’ shoulder. “What was that for, Lou?” 

“Yeah, what the hell, Tommo?” 

Louis turns pointedly to look at Harry, a single eyebrow raised. “H, what’s in Pad Thai?” 

Harry’s face goes red immediately. “I-I didn’t know it was Pad Thai.” 

Louis reaches around to gently rub Harry’s knee reassuringly, a small smile on his lips. “Luckily, I’m here, yeah?” 

Harry gives a small nod with an embarrassed smile before Niall speaks again.

“Uh, lads, care to explain what the hell is going on? We’re not all freaking telepathic like you two are sometimes.” Louis can hear his eye roll. 

“Yeah,” Liam adds, looking over with a concerned expression. “Are you alright, Harry?” 

Harry nods again, glancing at Louis, who already knows he wants him to explain what’s going on. To emphasize the point, Harry takes a long swig from his beer. 

Louis looks at the boy fondly before he turns to the rest of his friends. “Harry’s allergic to peanuts. Which, obviously, are in Pad Thai.” He doesn’t add that he himself hadn’t ordered the dish purely because he knew Harry could perhaps have stolen a bite. And part of him was worried that perhaps Harry’s allergy was so sensitive that even being near him could set him off. And Louis had maybe kind of picked up the habit of giving Harry forehead kisses before bed. He just missed his sisters, that’s all. 

Zayn reaches over and gently rubs Harry’s shoulder, making the boy smile. Louis feels his heart swell a bit, thankful for kind friends who are nice to his first year. 

~~~

It’s half past one on Saturday and Louis is laying on his stomach on the floor of their dorm, completely and utterly bored. Despite being a pre-law major, Louis somehow manages to avoid a lot of studying. Which, okay that isn’t exactly true, but he absolutely refuses to study too much on the weekends, as a principle . 

“Harry,” he whines, rolling over onto his back and looking up to where his roommate is snuggled up in bed, earbuds in his ears and watching a movie on his laptop. It was for homework, allegedly. Bloody literature majors and their easy coursework . 

When Harry doesn’t move, Louis stands and hits the space bar on Harry’s laptop for him, smiling sweetly at him when their eyes meet. 

“Yes?” Harry asks, taking out his earbuds and shifting to look at Louis better, his face looking alarmingly frog-like. He’s wearing short white cotton shorts with pink stripes on them with a big black hoodie. Louis almost gives up and offers to just finish the film with him in the comfort of his bed. But, Louis has a plan. If Harry’s up for it, of course. 

“Let’s do something,” Louis begins. “I’m bored, Haz. Please?” 

Harry laughs, soft and sweet, and it’s music to his ears. “Do you by chance have something in mind, Lou?” 

Louis frowns. Somewhere over the past few weeks they’ve started to read each other shockingly well. Better even than he had been able to read Liam when they lived together, or Robbie for that matter. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry teases, slipping out of bed. Louis steps out of the way, watching as Harry walks over to his dresser and pulls out a change of clothes. “So, where are we going?” 

“Not telling.” 

Harry side eyes him with an unimpressed expression on his face. “Can you at least direct me in what to wear?” 

“Well, it’s cold out. So, dress warm,” Louis provides, fully aware that he is being incredibly unhelpful. The glare Harry sends his way is deserved. 

Harry changes into a white woolen jumper and a pair of floral printed pants that somehow don’t look silly at all on him. Louis grabs himself a beanie from the top of his desk along with his car keys and wallet, waiting for Harry by the door. 

They drive in comfortable silence, the only noise the music playing from the radio, for all of ten whole minutes before Harry reaches his breaking point. “Lou, tell me where we’re going.” 

“No,” Louis replies easily. 

Outside their windows more greenery and fewer buildings pass by as they near the edge of the city. Harry huffs and crosses his arm over his chest. 

It lasts ten more minutes before Harry speaks again. “Lou, please. Tell me where we’re going.” He’s close to whining now, and Louis has to bite his lip to keep from smiling. 

“Harry, I’m not telling you. What’s the point of a surprise if the surprisee already knows what’s going on?” 

“There’s no such thing as a surprisee ,” Harry replies quickly. “And also, I hate surprises.” 

Louis just shakes his head fondly. He knows that that last statement is not true. 

Harry seems to give up after that, and they don’t speak until Louis pulls into a parking space. They’re in Worsley, a small village not too far outside Manchester, one Louis had found with a quick Google search. 

“Lou, where are we?” Harry asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to face him in his seat. 

“We’re in Worsley.” 

“And what are we doing in Worsley?” Harry asks again, confusion seeping into his voice and taking over his features. 

Louis smiles at him, patting his leg affectionately. “Well, young Harold, I might have overheard you talking to your sister the other day saying that you miss home, and well… I didn’t think bringing you back to Holmes Chapel would be appropriate because I know you’re trying not to go home, so I picked the closest village I could find.” 

Harry’s silent for a minute, his eyes searching Louis’ face as he processes this. Louis hopes now that he wasn’t crossing some line. 

Once it seems to have settled in, Harry launches himself into Louis’ arms. They hug for a long minute before Harry pulls away, tears in his eyes. 

“You really did this for me?” 

“Of course,” Louis states simply. “Now c’mon, Haz. We have some exploring to do! Google said they have a lovely bakery and flower shop.” 

“You know, I used to work at a bakery back home.” 

Louis does know. He’s been made very aware of that fact, but he smiles at him anyways. “No, really?” 

“Yep!” Harry grins, stepping out of the car with his long giraffe legs. He takes a few steps and stumbles, stiff from Louis’ cramped little car. 

Louis offers Harry his elbow. The other boy takes it with a shy smile, the two setting off on their little adventure. 

The town is quaint in every meaning of the word, full of lovely mock Tudor houses, but Louis can’t help but be a bit bored rather quickly. There’s not much to do here, truthfully, and Louis doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that Harry really grew up somewhere like this. 

“So, is this a lot like Holmes Chapel?” Louis asks as they stroll along the sidewalk, each now holding a cup of tea and a piece of warm, fresh bread. 

“Mmm kind of,” Harry says between bites. “It’s a bit bigger, actually. Holmes Chapel has fewer places to eat, a smaller church, but some more parks.” He shrugs. “It’s similar. It’s really nice to be out of the city for a bit, Lou. Thank you for taking me.” 

Louis smiles at him, so wide his cheeks hurt a bit. “Of course. Thanks for coming with me.” 

Harry nudges his shoulder fondly, the two falling into step beside each other as they approach the little flower shop Louis had seen on Google. It’s a tiny little place, but he figured Harry might like some fresh flowers, even if it’s October and cold outside. 

“Can we go in?” Harry asks hopefully, looking over to Louis for permission. 

“Of course, love,” Louis replies with a chuckle. “You think I’d mention the place and not buy you some flowers?” 

Harry grins at that, so large that his cheeks dimple and Louis can see his little bunny teeth. His eyes are even sparkling, despite the fact that the day is indeed very gray outside around them. 

They step into the shop, and the aroma of all the flowers overtakes them. Louis holds back the urge to run straight out; flowers are definitely not his thing. 

But, Harry’s grin is once again eclipsing his entire face, and Louis can’t help but feel fond. They had only just met a few short months ago, but Harry already felt like someone he had known for years. He wouldn’t ever dare tell the other lads this, but Harry was close to taking their spots as his best friend. 

“Which one should we get?” Harry asks, looking over to Louis and pointing to a few bouquets. There’s an older woman at the till, smiling at them kindly as they wander around her little shop. 

Louis takes a few steps to stand beside Harry, wrapping his arm around his waist as he takes in the different flower arrangements before them. “For a tiny shop, there are a lot of choices, hm?” Louis whispers softly, earning a giggle out of Harry. 

“Should we go pink or yellow?” Harry asks, once again pointing to his apparent favorites. 

Louis hums softly beside him, pretending to think hard on this when in reality, he already has an inkling as to which one Harry will choose. “Well, do you have a favorite, love?” 

Harry bites his upper lip as he thinks that over, as if Louis had asked him a difficult question. “Well… I know you like yellow, but I think the pink would match my blankets and my nails…” 

Louis glances down, looking at Harry fingers that were currently coated with a warm pink varnish. Perfectly fall and perfectly Harry. “Let’s get those then.” 

“Yeah?” 

Louis laughs softly, squeezing his waist before stepping away and taking the vase. He can’t help how endearing he finds Harry’s shyness. It’s been a while since he’s been this shy around him, actually. 

“Of course. Do you think we need anything else?” 

Harry ponders that for a minute, scanning the shop. His eyes fall on a smaller flower arrangement in the corner, a mixture of red roses and white daisies, and goes to grab it, holding it up for Louis to see. “I think we should get this for the guys’ flat. We’re going out to the pub tomorrow, right? I think they’d like them.” He pauses. “Well, I think Liam and Zayn will like them. I’m not sure if Niall will care.” 

Louis nods his head, taking the flowers from him and walking to the till. 

“Good afternoon, boys! Are you all set?” 

“We are,” Louis replies. The woman looks older than his nan, but she’s an adorable kind of frail and takes his card with a small pat to his hand. 

“You have a lovely shop,” Harry says, leaning into Louis’ side as the woman waits for their receipt. 

The old woman grins, handing Louis his card and sliding the flowers across the counter. “Oh, thank you, dear. You two are a lovely couple.” She, apparently, doesn’t notice Louis’ wide eyes, and instead continues speaking. “My great-grandson is gay. A lovely boy. I hope he finds someone that makes him as happy as you two are. Everyone deserves someone who buys them flowers.”  Oblivious to the clear confusion and hint of panic her comment has caused, she smiles innocently at them. “Have a lovely day, boys.” 

Louis feels his mouth dry and is thankful when Harry is the one who speaks. 

“Thank you so much. And thank you for the flowers; I promise they’ll be in good hands.” 

The woman gives Harry a knowing nod before Louis turns away and walks out of the shop, Harry close behind him. 

“That was…” 

“Can you believe she thought we were dating?” Harry asks, already giggling. “I mean… you did just buy me flowers, but come on .” 

Louis frowns, stilling as he watches Harry start to walk back towards where they parked. What did that mean? 

Harry turns around after a few steps. “You coming, Lou?” 

Louis takes a few slow steps, confused as ever when Harry takes his elbow. 

“Today was perfect, Louis,” Harry murmurs, as oblivious as the flower shop lady to Louis’ confusion and, honestly, turmoil. 

So, he just nods dumbly. He helps Harry find a place for the flowers to safely sit while they drive home. He agrees to grab dinner at the dining hall on campus. He even lets Harry take the AUX, listening to him sing along to the latest pop hits mixed with some classic oldies, the both sing along to The Script. But the whole time, his mind is spinning, replaying what the old woman had said to them in the flower shop: Everyone deserves someone who buys them flowers . 

~~~

Their weekend continues on as normal. They grab dinner on campus, and after Harry insists on doing at least an hour of homework before he allows Louis to distract him with a movie, the two end up cuddled in Harry’s bed together (they long ago silently agreed that Harry’s bed was superior; the blankets, the pillows, the stuffies – it was just better). 

Louis wakes up to the sound of Harry humming to himself in the bathroom, the sink running as he is probably brushing his teeth. He hears the shower turn on next, and he settles back into the covers, knowing his roommate will be a while so he’ll have to just hold his pee in. Louis is once again struck by how familiar this all feels, at how quickly they’ve reached this point after being strangers in August. 

He sighs, wrapping his body around the rainbow bear that has quickly become his favorite of Harry’s stuffed animals. He’s not even sure why, really, other than the fact that it’s perhaps the gayest thing he’s ever seen. Either way, he cuddles it to his chest as he pretends it’s Harry and tries to get a few more hours of sleep. Harry rarely lets him, especially when Louis’ in his bed, which Louis can’t exactly fault him for, but it is Sunday so he hopes that Harry’s shaving his legs again or something so that Louis can sleep till noon like he’d like to. 

Ultimately, Louis is not at all surprised when Harry flops down on top of him some short while later, his wet curls tickling his neck. 

“Harry,” he groans, attempting to push the taller boy off him. He’s unsuccessful, because unlike himself, Harry actually exercises outside of playing footie, going to yoga and the gym with Liam, so Harry’s bloody strong and the extra inches don’t help. 

Louis groans again, louder this time, and glares at the wet mop of hair that is now covering his face. “Hazza,” he tries instead, singing the nickname in a sickly-sweet way that almost always works. 

“Yes, Lou bear?” Harry asks in response, not moving, but obviously smiling if the way his cheeks move against Louis’ chest is any indication. 

He sighs at the nickname, silently cursing Niall for ever letting Harry in on the name his mother called him in the first place. Of course, Harry did his own take on it, turning Boo Bear into Lou Bear. 

“Hazza,” Louis sing-songs again, causing the other boy to lift his head and look at him with a dazzling smile, one far too bright for however early it is in the morning. “Please get off me, love.” 

Harry laughs, the sound light as he pulls his body up and settles into the corner of the bed, giving Louis plenty of space. 

Louis stretches as he sits up, leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple. “Thank you.” Louis plants his feet on the floor, stretching again. “Why are we up so early?” he asks, glancing at the clock that’s sitting right beside Harry’s lovely pink flowers and reading a quarter past ten. He shuts his eyes, very aware that this isn’t even early, not for Harry. 

“Louis, it’s not early,” Harry predictably replies. “And anyways, I know you have a paper due tomorrow and we’re meeting the boys at The Ducie Arms at four. So, no complaining to me, Mister.” 

Louis glares at him before he slips into the bathroom to relieve himself, muttering under his breath about how Harry is infuriatingly right all of the goddamn time. 

~~~

“So, you and Harry are certainly getting closer.” 

Louis raises his eyebrows, blinking at Zayn like he had just said that he saw a UFO or something. 

“And? What are you implying, Z?” 

Zayn simply shrugs, turning to scan the crowd at the bar. He spots Liam, standing beside Harry and Niall as they wait for the groups’ pints. “I’m not implying anything, Lou. You two are getting closer. It’s a fact.” 

Louis sighs, following his gaze and not hiding his smile when Harry does a little shimmy to the song the band is playing. “I still think you’re implying something.” 

Zayn hums softly, once again looking at Louis. “Lou, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I know how you get when you like a guy.” 

Louis stills. “Zayn, I don’t like Harry.” 

“Yeah, alright, babes,” Zayn replies easily. “Because you just so happen to know what we’re all allergic to. And you buy us all flowers. And you smile at us with that face .”

“What face?” 

Zayn laughs by way of response.  

With a glare, Louis continues, “Zayn, you’re allergic to bees. Liam is sensitive to dairy, and Niall has no allergies – that I know of. And I literally just paid for the flowers Harry gave you.” 

Zayn laughs, rolling his eyes. “That’s beside the point.” 

“That’s exactly your point!” 

“Whatever.” Zayn shrugs. “The fact is that you, Louis Tomlinson, like Harry Styles. I know you do. You even have started to like have weird cute little PDA, even that flower shop lady noticed.” 

“We do not have PDA!” Louis insists, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. He mentally curses Harry for sharing that little story earlier with the lads. “Zayn, seriously. I don’t like Harry any more than as friends. I’m not even looking to date right now.” 

Zayn smiles sadly at his friend, lightly elbowing him. He knew all too well why Louis wasn’t looking to date. “You deserve to be happy, Lou, and Harry clearly makes you happy.” 

Before Louis can dispute that (though whatever he would have said would have probably been a lie), the guys return to the table, setting down frosty glasses of beer. Liam slides into the booth beside Zayn, Niall and Harry taking the other bench. Harry gives Louis what feels like a private smile around the rim of his glass, and Louis can’t help but notice the way his hair curls around his ears, the glimmer in his eyes, and the way his soft brown sweater is just oversized enough to give him tiny sweater paws. He’s the epitome of warmth and comfort, and fuck, Zayn maybe has a point . 

~~~

The following week is busy with an abnormal number of exams and papers, leading Louis to hole himself away in the library nearly every day. He rarely sees Harry, let alone the other guys, and despite their upcoming football match, they even cancel practices this week. 

He feels like he hasn’t come up for air all week when Thursday rolls around. But, luckily, this is his final assignment of the week, and all he wants to do is have a few pints and fall asleep in Harry’s bed while the boy plays with his hair. He blinks once at that realization before quickly shoving it aside. 

Louis’ final assignment is a mock trial, something that he’s actually kind of looking forward to. He’s presenting against another girl in his class, Alyssa, and he has no doubts that he’ll absolutely smash it. He was so sure of himself that he even invited Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Niall to watch and cheer him on. What can he say? He likes an audience. 

He’s setting himself up at the podium in the front of the lecture hall, gently fixing his tie and making sure his suit jacket is buttoned when he spots the boys enter through the back door. Zayn and Liam are laughing at whatever Niall is joking about, and Harry is red in the face with glassy eyes as he always is after a fit of giggles. His curls look extra soft today, probably from the new organic shampoo he’s been raving about, Louis figures. The group sits down a few rows from the front, grinning back at him and giving him thumbs up right as the professor moseys to the front of the room to welcome everyone. 

That’s when Louis sees him. 

The familiar tall, lean body, cropped soft auburn hair styled nearly with just a hint of too much product, and hazel eyes meeting his. Fuck . 

Robbie. 

Louis’s face hardens immediately. This is absolutely not what he needs right now. Why is he here?

His professor is walking away, nodding at Alyssa to begin her argument. Louis takes a deep breath and lets his eyes flicker over to where Robbie is sitting. There is a sense of familiarity seeing his ex completely enraptured, though Robbie’s not looking at Louis like that, he’s eyes are trained on his classmate. 

In an act of desperation, he shoots a glance to Liam who, luckily, reads Louis’ pained expression with ease. Liam’s eyebrows furrow, turning from the content puppy dog he was a minute ago to a watchdog in an instant. He glances around the lecture hall, spotting Robbie a few rows back and immediately tensing. 

Louis exhales, glad at least that his mates are now aware of what’s happening. 

Before he knows it, it’s his turn to state his case for his ‘client,’ thankful that this is the part of school he excels at as he breezes through the argument. He manages to keep his act together, speaking clearly and making eye contact with the ‘judge,’ his professor, and the audience as appropriate, though every time he looks to the crowd, he only allows his eyes to fall on Harry, green eyes meeting blue providing him with a jolt of comfort. The boy is absolutely reverent as he watched Louis in his element, and Louis has never been so thankful for someone in his life. Harry’s warm expression anchors him, making Louis feel tied to him in a way that somehow manages to calm his racing heart. 

An hour passes faster than it perhaps ever has, leading to the moment where the professor thanks both Louis and Alyssa for their work well done and leads a nice round of applause from the audience. He can even hear Harry whistle with two fingers in his mouth like they’re at a concert and not a poorly attended mock trial. Louis can’t help the warmth that floods his cheeks. 

The joy he feels is short-lived. 

Before he can even finish packing up his things, Robbie is at the front of the room, pulling Alyssa to his chest and spinning her around, their lips sealed together in a kiss that is far too intimate for a classroom. 

Louis forces himself to look away right as he feels Niall wrap an arm around his shoulders. “That was awesome, mate!” the Irishman sings. 

Zayn nods in agreement, a sad smile on his lips, all too aware of what is going on in Louis’ mind at the moment. 

Harry, on the other hand, is completely oblivious. 

The curly-haired boy wraps both arms around Louis, pulling him close into a nearly bone crushing hug. Harry presses his face into the crook of Louis’ neck, mumbling into his ear, “You did so well, Lou. You were made for this!” 

Louis flushes, rubbing between Harry’s shoulder blades until the boy pulls back. “Thank you for coming, all of you.” 

The group nods, their smiles faltering when they hear a loud “Louis Tomlinson!” behind them. 

Louis stills, holding eye contact with Zayn for a few beats before he exhales heavily and turns on his heels. Luckily, he’s got a good poker face. “Robert.” 

“It’s been a while, Tommo. How have you been?” 

He cannot believe the words out of his dumbass exes mouth. How’s he been? How’s he been? Like the last few months he was off on holiday and not doing everything he could to try to mend his broken heart . Arsehole. 

And he called him Tommo, like they had been old mates and not boyfriends . Arsehole. 

“He’s been fine.” God bless Liam. 

“Been really great, actually. As you just saw, he fucking smashed that trial. Going to be top of his class at the end of the year for sure.” God bless Zayn. 

“Yeah!” Niall adds, though not quite as helpful as the other two. “He’s been getting plenty of dick too!” Ah, Niall. 

Louis laughs, rolling his eyes fondly at his friends. He steals a glance to Harry, who’s clearly connected the dots and he seems to fold in on himself a bit. Suddenly, he once again looks like the shy boy Louis met on their first day. 

Unfortunately, Robbie seems to track his gaze, settling on Harry like he’s prey. “Oh, and you must be Harry! Louis was so annoyed to be stuck living with a bloody first-year.” 

The thing is, it’s not even remotely true. Louis honestly doesn’t even remember telling Robbie about his future roommate, but he certainly hadn’t been upset about the placement. If anything, he was just a bit bummed about the fact that Liam was moving off without him. 

Of course, Harry doesn’t know that though, and the boy shuffles in his boots, his feet turning in on themselves. He watches Harry stuff his hands in his pockets, a move that Louis is sadly aware is a way to hide his nails, for fear of being made fun of, or worse. 

In that moment, Louis almost sees red. 

“Harry’s lovely, actually,” Louis states, the words hopefully having a bit of sting to them. “He’s a wonderful roommate and an even better friend, and he’s the best at giving cuddles.” He smirks as he says the words, his eyes boring holes into Robbie’s shocked face.  

Before anything more can be said, Louis leaves his ex with a wink, taking a few steps over to Harry. The boy looks confused and flustered, his shyness still apparent, but Louis just focuses on his best friend before him. “You alright, love?” he asks, feeling a rush of relief when Harry nods. “Alright, let’s go boys. I think drinks are on Liam tonight, yeah?” 

Liam balks at that, but still sends a pointed glare Robbie’s way that Louis doesn’t see, before the group makes their way out the door. Louis’ hand remains on Harry’s lower back. It’s a bit of a protective move, but he’s pretty sure they both could use the comfort from it. 

“So that was Robbie?” Harry whispers to him, their closeness providing them with some privacy from the other lads. 

Louis nods, not moving his hand from where it’s now tucked into the dip of Harry’s waist. “That was Robbie.” 

“I don’t like him,” Harry states. Louis’ head falls onto Harry’s shoulder as he chuckles, fondness swelling in his chest. 

“I’ll meet you guys at the pub, yeah? I’d hate to spill beer on the suit,” Louis supplies after he manages to catch his breath again. He reluctantly removes himself from Harry, stepping back and straightening out his jacket. It almost looks like the other boy is pouting, and he raises a coy eyebrow at him as a question. 

“I like the suit,” Harry mumbles, allowing Niall to lead him off to Zayn’s car so they can drive over to the pub together.

Louis shakes his head fondly as he walks towards their dorm building, the crisp winter air making him shiver and quicken his steps. 

His mind is swirling alongside the few leaves on the ground as he relives the past hour. Seeing Robbie had been… unexpected, to say the least. They somehow have managed to avoid each other since the break up a few months prior. And seeing him, well it hurt, but not nearly as much as Louis thought it might. It wasn’t like the last times they’d broken up; this time he didn’t feel the overwhelming need to get Robbie back. He didn’t even want his attention. 

Which was new. 

What also felt new was the fact that around Robbie, his only real care had been Harry . Seeing the boy, his boy, fold in on himself under the scrutiny of Robbie’s gaze was more infuriating than the fact that his ex was there in the first place. How dare he look at Harry like that, like he was less than him, like he was anything short of wonderful. 

Fuck . 

Maybe Zayn had a point, Louis begrudgingly realized, now unlocking the door to his and Harry’s dorm. He smiles fondly at the rainbow bear that was now sitting on his own bed, a little paper sign in its hands reading ‘Good job, Lou’ scrawled out in Harry’s messy handwriting. 

Louis couldn’t love him anymore if he tried. 

Which, of course, was not how you were supposed to think about your best mate. 

He’s never thought about Liam like that, not even Zayn – who coincidentally had been his first real kiss when they were both questioning their sexuality when they were fourteen. He loves them, of course, but he’s not now nor ever has he thought that he might be in love with them. 

But, Harry is his best friend. They’ve gotten incredibly close over the last few weeks, even this week they curled up in bed almost every night together, sharing a two small twin bed because they’d rather squish together than sleep alone. The few times Louis had climbed into his own bed when he returned from the library at three in the morning, Harry had just sleepily dragged himself out of his own mass of blankets, walked the few steps between their beds, and curled up into Louis’ arms.  

Harry is his best friend, Louis repeats to himself, taking a deep breath as he quickly changes into a clean pair of jeans and hoodie, not even thinking twice when he notices that it’s actually Harry’s green hoodie he pulled off the floor and not one of his own. 

He’s genuinely not sure if he’s ever been closer to anyone in his life, not Liam when they lived together last year, not even Robbie, who always made him feel like he had to keep his guard up. With Harry, he feels like he can be open and honest, just as the other boy is with him. He expresses his needs clearly with Harry in ways he never has before, and he thinks as he looks around their mostly tidy room, Harry genuinely makes him a better person. 

But.

Louis doesn’t want to date. He really doesn’t. Not only is he terrified of shifting the dynamic he and Harry already have, he doesn’t trust himself anymore in relationships. He’s clearly shit at them, as Robbie had always been quick to point out throughout their breakups. He could never hurt Harry like that. He didn’t even want to open that door to that possibility. 

Plus, there was no way Harry felt the same way. Their cuddles never were anything more than platonic. There were never any kisses, never any unexpected erections. It was all above board. If Harry liked him, he’d have said something by now, right? Harry was the one who always liked to talk about things. And even after their little escapade in the flower shop, Harry hadn’t brought up what the shopkeeper had said. He definitely thought the idea of them together was ridiculous.  

So, as he locks the door behind himself and walks quickly out to his car, he comes to the agreement with himself that while yes, he does indeed have feelings for his best friend, nothing can come of it. 

Chapter Text

Harry 

“I think Louis’ hiding something.” 

Niall looks over as Harry slumps into the chair beside him with a heavy sigh. 

“Good morning to you, too, mate.”

They’re in their Intro to Poetry class, one Niall had to take again after failing it the first time, and one Harry absolutely adores. Luckily, they have it together, so despite it being rather early, Harry always looks forward to the class, even now, when it’s the second week in November and the autumn chill makes getting up early – and leaving his warm bed, and a warm Louis – nearly impossible. 

“So you think Louis is hiding something because…” 

“Because he is,” Harry mutters, his arms crossing over his chest petulantly. He knows he’s being a bit of a child, but dammit he knows he’s right, and he just wants to know why . “Has he told you anything?” 

“Hasn’t said anything to me. Is he acting weird or summat?” 

“Yes!” Harry says quickly, turning in his seat to face his friend. “He just- I don’t know. He’s not really hanging out with me on the weekends much anymore, and he spends all his time in the library, and he’s like, like all secretive. It’s weird, Ni. He hasn’t been this… closed off since the beginning of the term.” 

Niall frowns at him, looking a bit hurt. “He hasn’t said anything to me.” 

Harry groans, turning back to face the front of their lecture hall and putting his head down on the desk. It’s probably messing up his hair under the bright pink beanie that he’s wearing, but he doesn’t care. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him, H?” Niall asks, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You two are best friends. I’m sure if you just ask he’ll clear everything up.” 

Harry shrugs, unintendedly shrugging Niall’s hand off him too. He knows the blonde has a point, but over the last two weeks he feels like the only time he’s had alone with Louis is in bed, and even then Louis has started coming back to the dorm later and later, usually after Harry’s already asleep. He wakes up with Louis’ arms around him, but they don’t talk anymore, not like they used to. They don’t lie awake sharing secrets and dreams and watching films. It’s lonely. He’s lonely. Harry hates that it’s November, and he’s lonely again. He really thought he was adjusting well. 

The professor walks into the room, right as the clock ticks to the nine, and Harry begrudgingly takes out his laptop to take notes. Niall gives him a reassuring smile, but it does little to calm his spinning head and aching heart.

~~~

By the end of class, things have, apparently, clicked for Niall. 

“Harry, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Oh, God.” 

“Piss off!” 

Harry laughs, a real one, for the first time in awhile. “What is it, Ni?” 

Niall pauses with a smile, waiting for Harry to stand so they can walk out of class together. “Hear me out, okay?” 

“Okay…” 

“What if… What if Louis likes someone?”

Harry frowns, his lips protruding almost into a pout. Louis can’t like someone. That… That wouldn’t be right. And more importantly, Louis would tell him. Wouldn’t he? 

“Louis would tell me.” 

Niall shrugs. “I mean, maybe. Unless the person he likes is you.” Harry laughs then, so loud it sounds like a baby seal, and he has to cover his mouth so they don’t make a scene. Niall looks on, completely bewildered. “What was that for?” 

“Ni, I’m a first-year . You guys are almost done with uni. Why would Louis like me ? Plus, I’ve seen Robbie. He’s tall and broad and, and-“

“You’re taller and broader than Louis,” Niall points out, his face neutral. It’s hard to read how serious he is, and Harry’s amusement is wearing off. 

“Louis doesn’t like me,” Harry asserts again, this time getting a bit flustered at the thought. “He doesn’t, Niall. We’re just best friends. Can’t two guys just be best friends?” 

Niall shrugs again, raising an eyebrow at the younger boy. “Whatever you say, H. Liam and Zayn were just friends this time last year.” 

~~~

Niall’s words echo through Harry’s mind all afternoon, even through football practice, where Liam has the group running drills and playing out different mini matches. Harry’s exhausted by the end, but he can’t tear his eyes off Louis’ sweaty body and notice the way that his best friend is suddenly not bringing him his water bottle or asking if he’s okay. 

The next day, Friday, Harry only has one class, and after he takes the time to go to an extra yoga class besides his usual one. The girls in the studio manage to distract him, but it doesn’t last long. By the end of the hour, despite being a bit sweaty and a lot stretched out, his mind is still spinning. 

Niall’s theory is still reverberating in his brain later that day when the group is set to pile into Zayn’s hatchback to take the three-hour drive to a neighboring town for their first away tournament. 

The car ride itself is fine. He’d been assigned the seat behind Zayn, Niall deeming it the best spot for optimum legroom for his “giraffe legs,” and Louis was stuck in the middle seat, squished between them. The older boy had fallen asleep before they even left the city, his head resting on Niall’s shoulder while he snored softly. 

Louis doesn’t even look at him until they arrive at their shoddy hotel. 

“Liam, you seriously only got us one hotel room?”

Liam looks to the other four sheepishly. “I mean, the rest of the team has their own rooms too, but for us… I figured we could share and cut costs.” 

“I’m not sharing a bed with Niall,” Louis huffs. It’s late, nearly eleven, and they’re all worn thin after a long week of classes and practices leading up to their matches this weekend. 

“You don’t have to share a bed with Niall-“ 

“Oi!” 

“You don’t have to share a bed with Niall,” Liam repeats. “But if you want a proper mattress at all, you’ll have to share with Harry.” 

Louis glances over to the younger boy now, his blue eyes hinting at the vulnerability of the moment.

Which, truthfully, is really confusing for Harry. They’ve shared a bed dozens of times before, shared one more often than not in recent weeks. And now, despite the shoddy hotel, the bed will certainly be bigger than the singles they’re used to in their dorm. So why is Louis so obviously uncomfortable?

Before Harry can speak, however, Niall groans, “Why can’t Harry sleep on the cot?” 

“Because Harry has a bad back,” Louis replies easily, breaking their eye contact and patting Niall’s shoulder. “Sorry, mate. You’ve got the cot.” 

Niall sighs, turning to where Zayn is leaning against the car while Liam begins to unload their bags from where they were stuffed into the boot Jenga style. “Zaynie… You don’t want to share a bed with smelly old Lima bean, right? You could share with me-“ 

“Niall.” 

“Liam, c’mon, share your boyfriend!”

Zayn chuckles fondly at the blond, pressing a kiss to his cheek then leans down to grab his duffle bag. “Sorry, babes. Liam’s the only man I want in my bed.” 

Niall groans, but Harry doesn’t pay him much mind, instead looking over to where Louis is picking up both of their bags with ease. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry murmurs quietly, feeling small in a way he hasn’t in a while. 

Louis gives him a small, private smile. “It’s alright, Haz. I’ve got it.” 

Harry simply nods, trying to figure out how to put words to the numerous questions that are swimming around in his brain. The other boys have started to bicker over something else now, leading the way inside. 

“Hey, Lou?” Louis stills, hanging back with Harry, giving them a bit of privacy for the first time since they left the dorm. “Why… Are you sure you’re okay sharing a bed?” 

“Hazza, you know we’ve shared a bed before, yeah?” 

Harry can feel heat creeping up into his cheeks. “I know. You just, you looked uncomfortable. Earlier. When Liam suggested it.”

Louis shrugs, a difficult feat with a heavy bag on each shoulder. “Just wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable with it.” 

Harry nods his head slowly, though he doesn’t actually believe the shit Louis’ spewing. Of course he’d be comfortable. Why wouldn’t he be comfortable? He always feels safe with Louis. There was definitely more to this story. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Yeah, let’s go in? Gotta get our rest if we’re going to kick ass tomorrow.” 

~~~

Of course, they don’t sleep as soon as they get inside. 

Far from it. 

First, they all take their turns in the shower, agreeing to wash up now rather than in the morning since they have to be on the field at eight. Afterwards, Niall lays down on the end of Harry and Louis’ bed, trying to convince them that he could just sleep there. Harry slips under the covers and kicks him with his long giraffe legs to prove why that wouldn’t be such a good idea. 

Afterwards, Liam sits up against the headboard of his own bed, Zayn tucked sleepily in his side, as he explains the different teams they’re going to be playing against tomorrow, whom to look out for, and reiterating some of the training they’ve gone through over the week. Harry thinks it’s a bit much for the level they’re playing at; they’re really just there to have fun, right? But he’d never dare say so. The whole group takes this too seriously to joke about it.

And anyways, Louis’ got an arm around him as they listen, allowing Harry to rest his head on the older boy’s shoulder. 

Despite the silliness he thinks this all is for a recreational league, he can’t help but feel a rush of comfort from the way that Louis continues to idly rub circles into his skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers what Niall had suggested yesterday; what if Louis likes you?

Harry keeps himself perfectly still, focusing on keeping his breathing even so as to not alarm Louis or anyone else as he thinks that over. There really was no chance that Louis liked him, right? But… But if he did? 

His eyes fall shut as he tries to imagine what that would be like. 

It would be a lot like how they are curled up right now, Harry realizes. In fact, as he blinks his eyes open to look across the room to Liam and Zayn, he guesses that they’re probably a mirror image of what he and Louis look like right now. Friends turned into something more, caring for each other, loving each other. He thinks he could do that. 

And if he’s honest with himself, if he actually listens to his heart and not his stupid head, he can recognize that those feelings for Louis were kind of always there. Louis who has cared for him and looked after him for months. Louis who has protected him from bullies and been honest with him when he needed it. Louis who slipped into bed with him when he noticed Harry’s nightmares coming back, and not leaving even when they were long gone. Louis who helped him find friends and encourages him to be himself. 

Yeah, maybe what they have has always been a bit past friendship. 

~~~

It’s over an hour later when Zayn eventually insists on turning the lights out, to Liam’s protests. 

“Babe, the games will be fine. You need to sleep.” 

“But… Fine.”

Harry can hear Niall’s soft snores from the cot he’s sleeping on in the corner of the room. He can hear the whirl of the heater, keeping the room at least somewhat warm. He can even softly hear the low sounds of the cars whizzing by on the roadway outside, still moving even this late at night.

And he can hear Louis, who keeps whispering to him quietly, now telling Harry about the last call he had with his family (one of the twins wants to get her ears pierced, their mum doesn’t think it’s a good idea).

They had crawled into bed at the same time as the other boys, but hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Harry had laid down, staring at the ceiling for far too long; he’s never slept well in foreign beds. Louis knows this, because Louis knows everything about him, and has evidently decided that the best course of action is to lull him to sleep with casual conversation. That, and of course, Louis was so excited after discussing tactics for the matches tomorrow that he doesn’t think the older boy could fall asleep now if he tried.

His voice is soft, loud enough only for Harry to hear so that their friends can keep sleeping peacefully. Despite being loud most of the time, he always tones it down for moments like this. It makes Harry feel special. 

Louis smells good too, like Harry’s vanilla and lavender body wash because he forgot to pack his own. Harry knew he would, it’s not a surprise.

They’re mere centimeters apart now, facing each other on their sides. The bed really isn’t small, but Louis is abuzz and who was Harry to ignore that smile when Louis is literally like the sun when he gets like this? 

“She thinks she’s grown but she’s so young, Haz.” 

Harry smiles and nods sleepily. Louis shifts, moving just a teensy bit closer so he can wrap an arm around Harry’s waist. It isn’t the first time; they’ve cuddled a lot over the past few months, whenever Harry had a nightmare or Louis just needed the closeness, especially after he stopped spending the nights elsewhere. They’ve also never really discussed it either, they just get into each other’s bed and watch a film or simply to fall asleep. But this bed is bigger than the ones in their dorm. They don’t have to lie this close, yet here they still are. Harry can see each flutter of Louis’ unfairly long eyelashes, can see the speckles of green and darker blue in his eyes thanks to the full moon flooding light into the room from where Liam failed to fully close the ugly hotel curtains. With each of Louis’ breaths, Harry can feel a little puff of air on his face. Louis licks his lips. 

“Me mum is right, she is just a baby.” 

Harry hums softly, sliding his leg between Louis’ thighs to get more comfortable. Usually when they cuddle, Louis is pressed against his back, enveloping him in warmth and comfort. It’s different like this, and Harry feels like he needs more, needs to be closer, despite the fact that they’re already so close, nearly chest to chest. 

“Would you ever get your ears pierced?” 

Harry plays with the front of Louis’ jumper, an old grey short sleeved Umbro one they found at the vintage shop the other day. It’s new to him, but so soft and obviously well-loved in the past. Harry smiles at the memory of how excited Louis had been when he had held it up in a question. Despite how obviously excited he was about it, he still wanted to know Harry’s opinion. 

When he looks up, Louis’ eyes have flickered down to his lips. Harry blinks a few times, too sleepy to answer his question. His eyes flutter shut again as his blinks get longer; he’s trying to stay awake. 

He feels Louis’ hand reach up to cup his cheek, a thumb brushing over his cheek bone. The cool air of the hotel room suddenly feels charged around them, something shifting in the minimal space between them. 

Even with his eyes closed, Harry knows Louis has leaned in closer. He secretly hopes that he isn’t imaging things, that this is actually happening, that he isn’t reading things wrong. Louis has been acting differently lately, and what Niall had said yesterday cycles in his brain. He keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to break the spell that he feels like they are surrounded by. Harry’s aware that now they’re sharing a single pillow, that all it would take would be a pucker of the lips to close the gap between them… 

Chapter Text

Louis

“You did WHAT?!” 

“Niall, be quiet!” 

“I will not be quiet ! What the fuck, Louis!” 

Louis sighs, glaring at the Irishman and picking up his pace. He runs ahead, waiting for his friend to catch up. It’s early, before seven am, and ordinarily Louis would be the last one up. But truthfully, he barely slept last night, and when he heard Niall getting up, he figured a good jog would maybe help clear his head. 

“Louis William Tomlinson slow the fuck down!” 

He does, with a heavy sigh, and comes to a stop. Niall nearly sprints to reach him, panting heavily and glaring at him when he does. 

“You can’t just say that and then run away from me!” 

Louis shrugs, a small smirk on his lips. Niall spots it and gives him a shove. 

“So, what does this mean?” 

“What do you mean ‘what does this mean’?” It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It can’t mean anything.

Niall blinks. “Louis… Oh fuck, Lou.” 

“What?” Louis deadpans.

“Louis, you can’t just kiss your roommate and best friend and then think that it means nothing . I know you’re dense, but you’re not that stupid, mate.” 

Louis just shrugs and looks away, his eyes focusing on where a squirrel is picking at a bag of crisps someone left in a nearby bin. He wonders if that squirrel has a family somewhere, if he’ll share the wealth with them or with a friend. He focuses in on that rather than the raging storm in his head. What has he done? 

Niall sighs beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Louis…” 

“What?” 

“You’re going to have to figure this out, you know. Harry’s had a crush on you for ages and you just went and kissed him. And you left. Shit, he’s going to wake up alone after you kissed him.”

“Zayn and Liam are there.” Even as he says it, Louis can feel his stomach clenching, a rock lodging itself in there. Harry’s going to hate him. He just ruined everything with Harry just like he had ruined things with Robbie.  

Niall laughs humorlessly. It sounds stale, so different than his usual squawk. “Look, Lou. I know you think you’re shit at relationships, and you know what, maybe you are! But that doesn’t change the fact that you kissed Harry last night and we have a tournament to play today. You two are going to have to figure your shit out so we can win.” 

It’s Louis’ turn to laugh now and his is also devoid of its usual joy. “Who cares about fucking winning right now, Niall?”

“I do. You do. You’re the most competitive bugger I’ve ever met.” Louis scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Roll your eyes at me, Tommo. I’m not the one who sang It’s Coming Home like this was the damn Euros after practice the other day.” 

Niall has a point. Louis groans, looking up at the sky. It’s cloudy and overcast, a threat of rain evident in the air. Perfect .

“So, what are you going to do?” Niall asks. Despite their teasing, Louis knows that he loves him. They’ve been best friends for years for a reason. 

Louis sighs heavily. If he stays still long enough, he knows he’ll start crying. He wants to run. 

“I see that look in your eye, mate. You’re not running from this.” 

“We’re literally in the middle of a run.” 

Niall laughs, his signature cackle this time that Louis can’t help but grin at. “Alright, alright. But we’re not running again until you just… You need a plan here, mate. Harry’s not going to just ignore it.” 

“You don’t know that,” Louis muses. The look Niall gives him suggests otherwise. He knew it was just wishful thinking. “Fine. I don’t know, Niall, okay? I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Clearly.” 

Ignoring that, Louis continues, “He just, fuck. He was right there, and he’s so pretty, Ni. The prettiest boy. But-” 

“But?”

“But,” Louis repeats pointedly. “I can’t date him. I can’t. I’m just going to hurt him and I can’t, I won’t , hurt Harry. Plus, I don’t even want a relationship! For fucks sake, clearly I’m shit at them.” 

Niall stays quiet, letting his friend ramble, hoping he’ll start to come to a more accurate conclusion. When Louis’ silent for too long, Niall sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Lou, look-“ 

“No,” Louis says quickly, cutting him off with the wave of his hand. “No. Niall you don’t get to tell me that everything will be fine, that Harry’s different, that Harry isn’t Robbie. You don’t get to say that. You don’t.” 

“But-“ 

Before Niall can continue Louis takes off at a run again, thankful for his speed as he knows that Niall can’t catch up to him at this pace. He runs with ease, focusing on the way his trainers hit the concrete with each step instead of the thundering inside his chest. He beats Niall back to the hotel room and slips into the shower wordlessly, even though he’ll sure to be sweaty again in a few hours. He doesn’t even check to see if the other boys are awake yet. 

~~~

They play horribly. 

By the time Louis got out of the shower, the rest of the boys were already dressed in their kits and ready to go. Harry had looked at him with a small smile and a flush on his cheeks, but there wasn’t time to talk – at least, that’s what Louis told himself. He rushed to pull his own jersey on and the whole group was out the door less than five minutes later. 

They were playing in the first round of the tournament against a team from Leeds. Despite Liam’s persistent yelling, Louis could not keep his head focused at all. His gaze kept lingering on Harry. Despite his own feelings about not wanting a relationship, he still was worried about Harry. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay. 

Every time he looked Harry’s way though, the boy seemed fine. He was prancing around the field as he always did, his pink socks making him easy to spot in the group of players on the pitch. Harry ran up and down the field with the rest of them, a smile on his face like he didn’t have a care in the world, looking the polar opposite of how Louis felt. 

“Louis, what the fuck was that,” Niall nearly screams as soon as the referee blew the whistle signifying the end of the match. 

Louis groans, squatting down on the ground beside his bag and taking a long gulp from his water bottle. He really doesn’t want to talk about it. He knows he played horribly, perhaps the worst he’s ever played, but all he cares about right now is the fact that he perhaps ruined his relationship with his best friend who he lives with and he will probably have to move at the end of term. He might have to share a room with Niall. 

“Yeah, Lou, that was shit,” Zayn adds, slumping down onto the grass beside him in a sweaty heap. 

“Are you okay?” 

Louis looks up at the soft, deep voice coming from above him. Harry has a worried look on his face and it makes Louis feel even worse. 

“’M fine,” he replies quickly. “Just out of shape, yeah? You lot keep telling me to stop smoking, maybe it’s catching up to me.” 

The looks on his friends’ faces suggest that they don’t believe him in the slightest. 

Thankfully, they don’t press further. Liam instead grabs his sodden clipboard and talks the team through where they went wrong. He kindly doesn’t place all the blame on Louis, for which he is very grateful. 

The entire time Liam is talking, Louis is acutely aware of the fact that Harry is staring at him with the same concerned look in his eyes, their hands a few centimeters away as they sit side by side on the grass but not touching. 

Predictably, the next game goes just as well. 

Though, really, it’s actually worse.

Once again, Louis cannot keep his eyes on the ball, looking over to Harry whenever he isn’t in possession of it. Without his help, their offense is essentially fucked, and they don’t manage to score a single goal in the first half. 

As they all take a breather during half time, Louis can feel the entire squad eyeing him warily. He’s supposed to be their star player and here he is missing every single shot he takes. 

“Lou, we’re switching you out.” 

“Liam, we both know that that is a horrible idea,” Louis challenges. Despite the fact that he sucks today, he’s still the best player on the team. 

“I don’t care. You’re sitting out. We’ll see if Luke can actually score or something .” 

Dejected, Louis sends Liam a glare as he takes his spot on the small bench on the sidelines. He watches the next quarter with mounting frustration and a bit of anger. How could Liam do this? 

Even worse, Liam made the right decision. Luke manages to score two goals in ten minutes, infuriatingly tying up the game.

The real trouble, however, comes during the final quarter. With five minutes left, the game is still tied two to two, and Louis is watching alongside Liam with bated breath when it happens. 

Harry’s jogging along, following the boy from his midfield position when a bloke far larger than him pulls him back by the collar of his jersey. Hard. 

Louis’ eyes widen, his blood pulsing through his veins. He takes a step forward to charge at the guy when Liam slaps his hand down on his shoulder. 

“Leave it, Tommo.” 

“Did you see that! The ref at least has to do something!” 

They watch on as Harry corrects himself into a pirouette, completely unperturbed by the interaction. 

“He’s fine, Lou. See? Let it be.” 

Louis stares at his best friend, who eventually catches his eye and gives him an adorable wave. Because of course he does. Because Harry is perfect and doesn’t even seem mad that Louis’ completely blown him off all day. 

Louis waves back, but he can feel the sinking feeling in his gut again, the way his heart feels a bit too large in his chest. He’s falling for Harry at an alarming rate, but he knows he’s already fucked this up. He knows Harry deserves better. Fuck . 

~~~ 

They, unsurprisingly, don’t make it to the final round of the tournament, thus canceling their weekend plans. With Liam behind the wheel, they head back to Manchester, the car eerily silent. Louis feels bad about making them lose, but he feels worse for what he’s sure he’s going to have to do when they make it back home. Harry’s a private kind of guy and wouldn’t do anything to cause a fuss around the rest of the lads. Louis knows him well enough to assume that the boy will bring up the previous night’s events once they’re alone. 

As soon as the door to their dorm closes, Harry is looking at him with the most adorable hopeful look in his eyes. His beautiful big green eyes are practically sparkling and he has a playful smile on his face and there is nothing Louis wants to do more than to just kiss him. 

You’re the worst boyfriend ever . Robbie’s words echo in his ears. 

Instead of kissing him, Louis sets his bag down and eyes the bathroom. “I’m going to shower.” 

“O-kay…” 

Louis knows he’s avoiding the issue at hand, that they’ll have to address it eventually, but he can’t bring himself to do it right now. Not yet. He knows that he fucked up. Over the three-hour car ride he even came to the realization that at this point he will have to hurt his best friend. But a little pain now is better than a lot of pain later, right? He’s terrible at being someone’s boyfriend, he’d never be good enough for Harry.

So, he runs, metaphorically speaking, hiding away in the shower for the better part of a half hour instead of facing the music. 

“Lou,” Harry’s voice sounds worried as he sticks his head into the bathroom. Louis’ just standing under the spray, willing his brain to stop spinning. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Harry.” 

“Okay… Can you come out now, please?” 

Louis sighs. Unfortunately, the water has started to get cold. He really doesn’t have a choice. 

“Yeah, one sec.” 

Blessedly, Harry closes the bathroom door, allowing Louis to dry off in peace. He dresses quickly in clothes he brought in with him. He allows himself one more deep breath before he pushes the door open. 

His roommate is sat up against his headboard, hugging that stupid rainbow bear to his chest. He looks so small like this, almost like a little kid. He looks fragile and Louis’ about to break him. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Louis asks, his voice not nearly as soft as it should be. 

“What do I want to talk about?” Harry parrots. His voice is hard. Harder and deeper and more harsh than Louis’ ever heard it. “Louis, you’ve been avoiding me all day.” 

“I haven’t been-“ 

“Yes, you have.” Harry’s right. “You kissed me last night and then you avoided me all day.” 

Louis stays still. He’s leaning back against his bed, facing Harry, though his eyes are trained on the floor. 

“Louis, do you… do you regret kissing me or something? Am I a bad kisser?” 

And the thing is, Louis does regret kissing him. He regrets all of it, for leading him on, for making him feel like this. 

Unfortunately, Louis’ thoughts lead to silence which leads Harry to let out a strangled whimper. 

Louis’ head snaps up at the sound. “Oh, Hazza. No, no. You’re not a bad kisser, not at all, love.” 

“But you regret kissing me?” 

Louis bites his lip. Unfortunately, again, his silence seems to speak for him. 

“Great. Just great. Louis, how could you? What am I, just another one of your one night stands? If we hadn’t been sharing a room with the guys last night would you have fucked me and then left?” 

“Harry, of course not!” What the fuck has he done?  

Harry’s glaring at him now, blue eyes meeting green in what feels like a fist fight. 

Louis can feel his chest tightening, can feel himself on the brink of something. But he doesn’t let himself give into it. 

Because Louis doesn’t cry. He steels himself, looking at Harry with what must be a harsh look in his eye because the boy absolutely crumbles before him. Louis can feel his own heart crumbling inside his chest. 

“I-I’m going to go home for a few days.” 

And that’s not what Louis was expecting him to say. 

“You’re… What?”

“I’m going home,” Harry repeats, this time with more conviction, his voice eerily even tempered. “I’m going to go sleep on the boys’ couch tonight and have Zayn or Liam drive me to the train station tomorrow morning.”

“Harry-“

“No.” Harry meets his eye again and the beautiful green eyes he’s come to find so much comfort in are red with unshed tears. “No, Louis. You don’t get to Harry me. Not now.” 

Louis takes a deep breath, slowly nodding his head. His jaw clenches as he picks a random spot at the wall to stare at. He doesn’t cry. 

He reminds himself that he deserves this.

Louis feels like a shell as he watches Harry throw clothes into a bag. He tries not to feel anything when he sees Harry add in one of Louis’ own sweatshirts on top. He’s unsuccessful. It hurts, feels like salt in an already opened wound.

“I-I’m sorry,” Louis eventually stammers out, right as Harry has fastened up his coat and has his hand on the doorknob. His voice sounds as weak as he feels, it sounds foreign to his own ears. Well, he wishes it sounded foreign. In reality, it sounds a lot like it did months prior when it was Robbie who was walking out that door. 

Louis can see Harry stiffen, can tell by the way his back becomes ramrod straight instead of its usual slightly hunched stance. He knows Harry heard him. But the other boy doesn’t say a word before he slips out the door. 

~~~ 

The knock on his door sounds far louder than it ought to. 

Louis picks his head up off the pillow, glaring at the offending sound, his heart pounding as he briefly wonders whether it’s Harry. 

The unlocked door opens up slowly, Zayn’s head peeking through. Definitely not Harry. 

Louis throws up the middle finger and buries his head back in his pillow. Well, it’s Harry’s pillow, but he hopes Zayn doesn’t notice the fact that it’s covered in a pink pillow case instead of blue. 

“Go away.” 

“’m not going to do that, babes.” 

Louis feels the bed dip where Zayn sits on it. A hand rests against his back for a moment, and it’s hard to not smile at that. He and Zayn have been friends since they were kids but the touch still feels special. They’ve never really been tactile with each other. 

“So, Harry showed up at our door about an hour ago in tears. Mind telling me why?” 

Louis remains silent. 

“Niall seemed to know. Took him right in, wrapped him up in a blanket and gave the boy a cup of tea. Liam, too. He didn’t seem at all surprised.” Zayn pauses. “Mind filling me in, Lou?” 

He groans. Sure, he had told Niall, but Liam could only have guessed based on his behavior on the pitch.

When he speaks, his voice once again sounds small, muffled by the pillow. He’s not even sure if Zayn can even hear him when he says, “I kissed him.” 

“You kissed him.” The shock in Zayn’s voice is obvious. It almost entices him to lift his head just to see the surprised look on his face. 

“Yeah,” Louis groans, sitting up now. Zayn’s clearly surprised, but he looks puzzled too. “I kissed him last night, couldn’t help meself. And now I’ve gone and ruined everything.” 

Zayn sighs, heavily. Enough so that Louis can feel it in his own chest. He knows he’s fucked up, thank you, he doesn’t need the reminder. 

They sit in silence for a minute, Louis letting his gaze fall on Harry’s rumpled bed, at the rainbow bear that is practically mocking him from where it sits on top of Harry’s favorite blanket. His own favorite of Harry’s blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Do you love him, Lou?” 

Louis’ head snaps to look over to his friend. Where did that come from? 

“Where did that come from?” 

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, mate. I told you a few weeks ago. I know you like him, and I know you’d only fuck up this bad if the feelings were deeper. You love him.” 

The second time Zayn says it isn’t even a question. He knows. He states it like he’s stating the weather, with such conviction like he’s fully aware of what’s going on inside Louis’ heart right this moment. 

Louis can feel the now familiar sting behind his eyes. But he doesn’t let himself cry. 

“I-I can’t hurt him, Z.” 

Zayn laughs humorlessly. “Too late for that, babes. Your boy is on my couch as we speak clutching a box of tissues.” 

The stinging grows. 

“It’d just be worse when I hurt him later.” 

“What do you mean ‘when you hurt him later’? Lou, why would you hurt him?” 

Louis is quiet for a moment, eyes focused intently on the rainbow bear that is somehow getting blurry. “Because I’m terrible at being someone’s boyfriend.” 

Zayn watches him for a moment before getting off the bed. He returns with the floral box of tissues that was sitting on Harry’s desk. Louis doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Zayn offers him one. 

“Lou, who told you that?” 

Louis gives him a look. Zayn understands it instantly. 

“Look, Robbie’s a fucking arsehole and you know it. Why are you still believing anything he said?” 

Louis sighs. His rational brain knows that Zayn has a point. But he’s been programmed at this point, so attuned with what Robbie said about him for so long that nothing else feels true anymore. 

“He’s right about this,” Louis weakly protests. 

“No, he’s not. Robbie’s a shit boyfriend but you were wonderful to him, Lou. Really. I know it’s hard to see past it, but…” Zayn sighs, squeezing Louis’ shoulder until he turns to look at him. He hasn’t seen Zayn this visibly hurt since… Well, since Louis showed up at his door after Robbie left for the last time. “Harry isn’t Robbie, Lou. He isn’t, not even close.” 

“I know.” 

“Harry’s not going to hurt you, either. And you won’t hurt him.” Zayn bites his lip. “And you know what, even if you do end up hurting each other, it’ll be worth it. Because love is worth it.” 

Louis’ not sure he agrees. 

“I know Robbie did a number on you, and I’m happy to sit and talk about it, or we can smoke for a while and forget everything, your choice.” 

Zayn always knows what he needs. 

“Give me a light.”

Chapter Text

Harry 

Going home has been exactly what Harry needed. 

His mum met him at the train station with a big hug, the warm embrace he needed after getting his heart broken. 

As soon as they got home she made hot chocolate and handed him a still-warm-from-the-oven cookie (she tended to stress bake, a habit Harry had adopted himself) before they both curled up on the couch to chat about work and school and watch two episodes of Queer Eye on Netflix. 

It was perfect. 

By the second day, however, his mum was getting a bit restless and even more concerned. Luckily, it seemed as if most of the tears had been cried on Liam and Niall’s shoulders the other night, so Harry had somehow managed to dodge the questions as to why he needed to visit on such short notice, but he knew it was just a matter of time until she asked. 

“Honey, what’s going on? You weren’t due to come home for another month. And I know you have class, so I figure you’ll be skipping that, hm?” 

Harry sighs, staring at the batter he was whisking as he made them pancakes. He always used to make his mum and sister pancakes, especially when one of them was sad. It felt right to fall back into his routine. Something steady to stabilize his broken heart. 

“Mum…” 

“Harry, we have to talk about it eventually.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder to where his mum is sitting at their kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her in a mug that he and his sister had had custom printed for Christmas last year with their faces on it. Realistically, he knows that she won’t judge him, but the wound feels so fresh and he doesn’t really want to talk about it, let alone cry into their breakfast. 

“Louis and I got into a fight,” is what he eventually says, once again keeping his focus on the task at hand rather than the emotions in his chest. 

His mum doesn’t say anything, instead waiting patiently for him to continue. 

“I just wanted some space for a few days,” Harry adds, pouring batter into the pan and finally taking the time to turn around and face her. 

His mum looks sad, a concerned look in her eyes as she takes another sip from her mug. “You and Louis have been getting along though, love. What changed?” 

“Everything,” Harry mutters, chewing on his bottom lip. Here goes nothing. “I-I think I like him, mum. More than just a best friend, more than just a roommate. And then… and then he kissed me the other night. Proper kissed me and then we just… We fell asleep after. Or I did, at least. And then didn’t want to talk about it, and when we did finally talk about it he said he doesn’t want a relationship. H-He said he regretted it, kissing me.” Harry pauses, shutting his eyes tight to stop any stray tears that are beginning to pool in his eyes. “I was so stupid , mum.” 

Before he knows it, his mum’s arms are once again wrapped around him, breakfast ignored for now as she pets his hair. Despite his growth spurts and new height, she still knows how to hug him perfectly and make him feel safe. He relaxes into her hold, letting the few tears fall that were aching to, but not full out crying. He just doesn’t have it in him. 

“Oh, honey,” she sighs. “Love is a fickle thing. Maybe he’s just scared?” 

“He said he regretted kissing me !” 

“Well, yes, but maybe he just regretted how it happened, not the kiss itself?” 

Harry pauses, his head resting on his mum’s shoulder. His back would start to hurt if they stayed like this too long, so he reluctantly pulls away and busies himself with flipping their pancakes before they burned. 

They don’t talk about Louis again during breakfast, and Harry thinks he might get away with not having to think about the other boy at all for the rest of the day. But his mum brings it up one more time while they’re doing the washing up. 

“You know you’re going to have to go back eventually, right, love?” 

“I know, mum.” 

~~~

The rest of the day is essentially the perfect Sunday. Harry would say it’s the best he’s had in weeks, but that would negate the fun he’s had with Louis, doing homework, ordering take out, going to the pub with the boys. Yeah, saying this was the best Sunday he’s had in weeks would definitely be a lie. 

It’s still nice nonetheless though. 

Harry’s mum treats him to a mani/pedi at their favorite little spa in town, a place where they used to go often when he still lived at home. It’s familiar and welcoming and feels just that extra bit extravagant that makes him feel special. Harry basks in it. 

Afterwards, they go out to dinner at his mum’s favorite restaurant and talk about his sister and her new boyfriend. They purposefully avoid all topics of Louis and Harry’s own love life. 

His mum tucks into bed early, as she has to be up rather early the next day for work, so Harry is left to his own devices at night. 

It feels strange laying in his childhood bedroom, and try as he might he can’t break the thought that the bed feels too big, too empty, even though it’s just a single mattress. In the solitude of his bedroom, he lets himself wish Louis were there with him, that he was back in his dorm with his stuffies and blankets, that he had strong, tattooed arms wrapped around him. 

Harry shuts his eyes, willing the memories to fade as he holds tight to the bear in his arms. It’s not one of his favorites – those he took to school – but if he pretends maybe he can imagine it’s the same. 

Going back to the corner where I first saw you
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I’m not gonna move
Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand
Saying, “If you see this girl can you tell her where I am?”

Harry frowns, his eyes still closed. He feels like he’s imagining the music, the familiar song from The Script seeping out of his memory. There’s no way his mum’s awake and he’s pretty sure his phone isn’t being operated by a ghost. 

Some try to hand me money, they don’t understand
I’m not broke – I’m just a broken-hearted man
I know it makes no sense but what else can I do?
How can I move on when I’m still in love with you ? 

Okay, now Harry knows he’s not making it up. He knows this song like the back of his hand, a favorite in their dorm, one he’s heard dozens of times over the last few months. It’s on Louis’ study playlist as well as a few others. 

He sits up in bed and reaches for his phone. It’s only a quarter past eleven, and the screen shows that he is not indeed playing the music. 

Harry pulls himself out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls as he pads softly through the hallway, trying to find where the music is coming from. He searches the kitchen then the living room, finding nothing. Finally, he pulls back the curtains of the window in the front of the house and when he peers out, his jaw drops. 

Standing on his front lawn is Louis Tomlinson holding what appears to be a Bluetooth speaker. 

‘Cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you’ll come back here to the place that we’d meet
And you’ll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

The front door opens with a soft creak as Harry slips outside, not noticing the chill in his fuzzy pajama bottoms and pastel pink jumper. Louis’ face immediately breaks into a smile, his eyes crinkling on the sides. He sings the next few lines, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

So I’m not moving, I’m not moving.
I’m not moving, I’m not moving . 

The anger Harry’s been harboring over the last few days seems to dissolve as he stares at the other boy who’s standing a few meters away. 

“Sorry it’s not a boom box,” Louis says sheepishly as he turns the music down so that Harry can hear him speak. 

Harry giggles, chewing on his lip to stop from smiling too widely. “What are you doing here?” 

“Felt like a drive.” 

“Louis, it’s nearly midnight and you’re nowhere near campus.” 

“Felt like a long drive.” 

Harry smiles softly at him, the light from the porch just barely giving him a peek at what Louis’ wearing; it looks like his usual denim jacket that has a bit of shearling around the collar paired with black jeans and his vans. He must be freezing. Harry stays quiet though, waiting for Louis to explain himself. 

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Louis says, his voice soft. He takes a few steps forward, stopping before the porch where Harry is standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t have to like me or want me or any of that, but uh… like that song says, I’m not moving.” 

The giggles at this point are not in Harry’s control. “How about you at least move into the house, yeah? It’s cold.” 

Louis nods, giving Harry a small, sheepish smile. 

Harry leads the way inside, locking the door behind them and walking wordlessly into the kitchen. He sets the kettle on without asking if Louis wants a cuppa. He already knows that he does. 

The silence between them isn’t exactly comfortable. Louis fidgets where he’s resting against the counters. Harry is facing him now, his bum also perched on the counter behind him. 

“So… you came all this way just to tell me you’re not moving out?” Harry asks, his voice even despite the fact that he’s teasing. 

Louis’ eyes snap up from where he was staring at the tiled floor, and the pained expression on his face makes Harry almost snort laughing. At the sound, Louis visibly relaxes and it empowers him to take a few steps forward. He places his hands on the counter on either side of Harry’s hips, a confident smile on his face.

“Harry, I’m sorry. Please, please tell me I haven’t fucked everything up between us.” 

The taller boy looks down at their feet, his own in warm woolen socks, Louis’ in his beat up black Vans. He thinks over the last forty-eight hours, the heartbreak he’s been trying to process, the loneliness he felt up in his bedroom earlier. He peeks up at the older boy from under his eyelashes and can’t help but allow the corners of his lips to tug upwards. 

“Do you regret kissing me?” Harry eventually asks, repeating his words from the other day. 

Instead of answering him with words, Louis’ cold hand cups his jaw and tilts his head to the perfect angle. And then Louis’ kissing him, a soft press of lips, over before it even started. 

“Does that answer your question,” Louis whispers. Their foreheads rest against each other, and Harry can feel Louis’ smile even with his eyes closed. 

“Yes,” Harry breathes. He quickly kisses the corner of Louis’ mouth right as the kettle begins to sing. He slips out of Louis’ grasp, turning off the kettle before it wakes his mum and busying himself with making their tea while his head spins. Louis just kissed him. Louis just kissed him!  

Harry gives the other boy a small, reassuring smile as he hands him his mug – perfectly made Yorkshire with just a dash of milk. Harry then turns, tilting his neck to the side to indicate that Louis should follow. 

They tiptoe back up to Harry’s bedroom where Harry sits down with his back against the headboard. Louis stands in the doorway, taking in the room for a moment before he looks back at the younger boy. Harry gives him another reassuring smile and pats the space in the bed beside him. Louis toes off his shoes and happily complies. 

It feels safe, Harry realizes, sitting in his childhood bedroom with Louis so close. It feels safe despite the hurt Louis caused. They’re pressed up against each other, shoulder to hip, and he feels a level of safety he’s rarely felt in this room since his step-dad passed. Often, he’s struck with memories of waking up to Gemma’s panic whenever he sleeps in this room. Now, he can only think about the boy sitting next to him. Does he feel this safe too? Harry hopes so.

However, he still doesn’t know where they stand, what Louis wants. 

“Lou, what are you doing here, really?” Harry asks softly. A pro about the way they’re sitting is that they don’t really have to look at each other. In fact, it would be difficult to maintain eye contact like this, so Harry gets to stare at his cup of tea instead. He doesn’t want to look Louis in the eye when he gets his heart broken for the second time this weekend. 

Louis doesn’t reply for a moment, his fingers tracing along the rim of the mug and allowing it to warm his cold hands. 

“I-I wanted to apologize, Haz. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Shouldn’t have done what?” 

Harry’s prepared for him to once again say that he regretted kissing him. 

“Ran.”

Harry stills, setting his mug aside carefully on his bedside table in the space not littered with books before he shifts to sit in Louis’ lap. He wants to look at Louis for this. 

“What are you trying to say? Please just… tell me, okay?” 

Louis nods, reaching to set his own cup aside as well. “Harry, I’ve liked you for a while now. And that… shit, it terrifies me, okay? I know I’m utter shit at relationships, I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is that I don’t want to hurt you. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow at him, but remains quiet. 

“Alright, fine. Hurt you more ,” Louis admits with a soft, self-deprecating huff. When he speaks again, his voice breaks with vulnerability. “You deserve so much more than me, Hazza.” 

Harry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Louis, I only want you, though.” 

Before Louis can reply, Harry’s already got a hand on his jaw, feeling the slight stubble on the older boy’s chin, and leans in. This time, the kiss is sweet, confident and self-assured. Harry smirks as he feels Louis lips press against his, the soft press of slightly chapped lips making him feel a bit weak in knees. They trade a few simple kisses before Harry pulls back, his eyes still shut but with a smile so wide on his face that he can feel his dimples cratering his cheeks. 

“Does that answer your question?” 

Louis laughs, soft and a bit breathless. Harry preens at the sound. “I didn’t ask a question, love.” 

“Whatever,” Harry giggles, pulling back and gently swatting at his chest. “I want you, Lou. Only you.” 

Louis looks nervous again, so Harry kisses the look away with another giggle. 

“You really want to try this? Us?” 

Harry nods, suddenly feeling a bit shy despite the fact that he is literally straddling the other boys’ waist. A few inches and their cocks would be in prime position to give them both some glorious friction, but Harry still feels bashful under the earnest look on Louis’ face. 

“Yes, I really, really do.” 

Louis’ arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him into his chest. “You know this is going to change things, right?” 

Harry rolls his eyes fondly. He shifts, pressing a quick kiss to the underside of Louis’ jaw and another to his lips before he pulls away completely. “Do you want to borrow pajamas or are you sleeping in your skinnies?” 

Louis, unprepared for such a question, stares down at his lap as if he’s never seen it before. Harry giggles again, his hands moving to the hem of Louis’ shirt and lifting it up over his head with ease. 

“C’mon, Lou. I’m tired.” 

Louis chuckles, gently moving Harry over so he can stand up and shove his jeans down his legs. He crawls back into bed in just his boxers. Harry shifts so that they’re facing each other. It somehow feels like a tighter squeeze here with the bed in the center of the room than in their beds back at school that are pushed against the wall. He curses the fact that he never asked his mum for a larger bed; what grown man still has a twin mattress? 

It somehow feels both familiar and different as they lie there facing each other. For starters, Louis’ usually wearing pajamas or joggers or something . The fact that he’s in just his pants is a bit distracting. If Harry had any energy left, he might be more excited about this prospect, but as it is, he just wants to sleep. And the bed is different, of course. Suddenly the very bed he’d slept on for years feels brand new and far too small. And the air around them is charged. Too hot and too cramped around them. Harry is keenly aware that he’s allowed to really touch now, to kiss Louis however much he pleases. And he plans to, just maybe not tonight.

Harry smiles and bites his lower lip in an effort to try to hide his yawn, though his face still scrunches up despite his efforts. Louis presses a sweet kiss to his nose. 

“You’re adorable.” 

“Thank you,” Harry mumbles, his head nuzzling into the pillow as he looks sleepily at Louis. “So, you said this was going to change things?” 

“Mmm, love, let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” 

Harry nods, the exhaustion from the last few days and even just the last hour pulling him closer to sleep. He turns over when Louis gently pushes at his side, allowing Louis to envelop him in his arms and spoon him. This feels even more familiar and incredible safe, somehow even safer now that he has a bit of confidence that maybe one day Louis will be his boyfriend. Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face that night after rather than with tears in his eyes. 

~~~

Harry wakes up a bit confused, the sunlight coming in through his windows reminding him of home before he feels the strong arm around his waist. 

Louis . 

He smiles when he remembers what happened last night, finding Louis outside in the cold with a speaker as if they were in Say Anything . It was romantic and sweet and Harry feels his cheeks warm just at the memory. 

He feels so lucky. 

He’s tempted to just stay in bed, to snuggle back into Louis’ embrace and sleep for a few more hours, but it’s a weekday and they’re both missing class, and most importantly – Harry really has to pee. 

So, Harry carefully gets out of bed, once again replacing himself with a pillow so as to not wake the sleeping boy in his bed. Louis snuffles adorably and clutches the pillow tight to his chest. Harry pauses in the doorway to appreciate the view, the way he can see the dark tattoos against Louis’ winter pale skin, the stag and heart on his arm perfectly visible. Harry smiles at him before he slips out to the bathroom and then down to the kitchen to start making them breakfast. He’s never had Louis’ in a house to wake him up with anything more than just cereal or a granola bar and Harry intends to take full advantage of the opportunity. 

And he does. Louis comes downstairs a while later wearing a pair of Harry’s too-big sweatpants and his chest still bare (God bless Harry’s mother’s heating), to a kitchen table with a full English breakfast waiting for him. 

“Well, good morning to me,” Louis laughs, wrapping his arms around Harry from behind and pressing a warm kiss to his shoulder. “Morning, love.” 

A grin pulls on Harry’s lips at the term of endearment, one Louis’ called him before, but it sounds so much different now. “Good morning, Lou,” he breathes, turning around in his arms. His own wrap around Louis’ neck loosely. 

They smile at each other until Harry can’t help but giggle. It’s so… new. But not new at all at the same time. Harry feels butterflies at the reality of having Louis so close. He feels so at home looking into those ocean blue eyes. He sighs happily before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Louis’ lips. 

“I could get used to waking up to this,” Louis teases, pressing his lips to Harry’s dimpled cheeks then stepping away so he can take a seat at the table. “You didn’t have to do all this, Haz. You know I like you regardless of how much food you make me. I’d have been happy with McDonalds.” 

His comments have Harry giggling again as he sits down beside him. “I like to cook, Lou, you know that. I had to take advantage of a fully stocked and empty kitchen while I could. Plus, you know I hate McDonalds.” 

Louis hums and fondly rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his breakfast and slouching in his seat in bliss. 

They make small talk as they eat, both reveling in the fact that they’re skipping class and how nice it is to be in a house rather than their dorm or the boys’ flat. It’s a level of domesticity they haven’t had with each other yet, even while living together for months, as they do the washing up and retire to the sofa together with fresh cups of tea. 

“Lou, can I make a request?” Harry asks, staring down into his cup of Earl Grey. 

Louis nods, resting a hand on Harry’s knee and squeezing reassuringly. “Ask away.” 

“You said things were going to change, and I want them to! I do! I just... I think we should talk about it, maybe?” Harry stumbles over his words, feeling a nervousness he hasn’t felt around Louis since they first moved in. The boy sitting opposite him on the couch looks far more intimidating than the one who was curled up in his bed an hour earlier. “If you want to, of course.” 

“Baby, of course I want to talk about things,” Louis says quickly, a smirk spreading again on his lips when Harry blushes at the pet name. “We’ll talk about that too, but first… Us. Things. Changing. What are you thinking, Hazza?” 

Harry smiles softly, looking up to meet his eye. “How about you go first?” 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, but begins speaking anyways. “Well, I don’t know, I guess. I’m just... “ He pauses, sheepishly meeting Harry’s eye. “I’m scared.” 

“Why are you scared?” 

Louis smiles despite the panicky feeling in his chest when Harry takes his hands and threads their fingers together. His hands are soft, the light blue nail varnish standing out against his milky skin. 

“I haven’t had much luck in love, Haz. I’ve hurt a lot of people, I’ve been hurt by a lot of people. I don’t want to do that to you.” 

“Louis… I’m a big boy, I can choose for myself if I want to put myself in a position to get hurt.” 

Louis laughs, squeezing his hand. “I know, I know, love. I just don’t know that I’ll live with myself if I were the one to hurt you.” 

Harry sighs, scooting across the couch so that they could be closer. His gaze is intense when he says, “What can I do to make you feel less scared?” 

Louis pauses, then eventually shrugs. 

Harry smooths his thumb over the older boy's knuckles, waiting a long while in silence before he speaks. “How about I tell you what I’m thinking?” Louis nods. “I’m thinking that things aren’t really changing that much. We just… well, we were already sort of acting like a couple, Lou, looking at it now.” He laughs when Louis makes a confused face, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows and a frown on his lips. “Louis! You literally took me on a date the other week. And we share a bed more often than we don’t. And we already have the same friends… Now we just get to do all of that with the added benefit of kissing.” To accentuate the point, Harry leans over and quickly pecks his perfectly pink lips, effectively removing his frown. 

“Mmm you think?” Louis asks, chasing his lips and kissing him again, still closed mouth and pure. “I think, that you, Harry Styles, have no idea how boyfriend Louis Tomlinson acts.” 

“You want to be my boyfriend?” 

Louis looks like he’s holding back a laugh, his eyes are sparkling from what little peeks out from his smile lines. Gone is the scared boy who was sitting there a few moments ago, replaced now by one with a heartbreakingly earnest expression on his face. “Harry, love, of course I want to be your boyfriend. And I hope you’ll be mine.” 

Harry nods, looking like an excited kid as he sets his mug down once again and leans in to kiss him with a bit more urgency. The press of their lips is hotter, Louis’ tongue swiping at the seam of Harry’s own until he parts them. Louis licks inside with a groan, hands gripping Harry’s hips. 

They end up horizontal fairly quickly, trading lazy, steamy kisses back and forth, learning every inch of each other’s mouths, when the front door opens.

“Harry? Love, there’s still a car parked out front of the house- Oh!” 

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life, nor has he ever been more thankful for throw pillows. 

“Mum! Oh my God,” Harry squeaks, his voice uncharacteristically high. “Y-You’re home early.” 

Anne, bless her, stands away from the doorway, purposefully not looking at the two boys on her sofa. “I brought home lunch for you, honey. I’ll uh, I’ll let you two get dressed and then we can have a chat?” 

Harry feels like his body is on fire, and when he sneaks a peek to Louis his boyfriend has the audacity to look smug. “Piss off,” he mutters, though it has no bite to it. He listens for the sound of his mum puttering around in the kitchen before he pulls Louis with him, rather forcefully, up to his bedroom. 

“You know, this wasn’t how I expected to meet your mum.”

Chapter Text

Louis 

Meeting Harry’s mum shirtless and half hard in a pair of borrowed sweats was not what Louis had ever intended. 

Luckily, Anne seems to be the most laid back woman on the planet. 

Despite the fact that her son was snogging a heavily tattooed and pierced older boy she’d never met before on her sofa, she was surprisingly relaxed as they all shared lunch that afternoon. She even offered them to stay the night, but Harry had – wisely – stated that they should get back to campus for their classes the next morning. 

The drive back was lovely, even if a tad bit awkward. Harry was a smiley, giggly mess the whole time. It was just enough of a distraction to keep him out of his head. Except who’s Louis kidding? No it wasn’t. 

Truthfully, the whole drive back to school Louis was terrified that he was going to ruin everything between them. This sinking feeling stuck throughout the next few days as the two slowly got used to what it was like to transition from best friends to boyfriends. 

Some of it, of course, was simple. Calling each other pet names was easy, stealing kisses before bed or when either left the dorm was a no brainer, cuddling in bed together was natural.  However, Louis wasn’t sure about everything else. He didn’t know what to do when Harry would climb into his lap and start kissing him with more heat, more purpose, than the mostly innocent kisses they had limited themselves to thus far. 

And it wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to Harry. God no. Somehow his brain, heart, and dick all seemed to have a meeting as soon as they started dating and he woke up with morning wood nearly every day. He felt like he was bloody sixteen again. 

Luckily, Harry hasn’t noticed, or at least, hasn’t mentioned it. 

The issue is, Louis has no idea what Harry’s done before, sexually speaking. They just, somehow, have never talked about it and Louis doesn’t want to take things too quickly. He doesn’t want to push him or make him uncomfortable or think that Louis’ only with him for sex. 

It all comes to a head on their first Friday as a couple. Harry and Louis are getting dressed to go over to the boys’ flat, with potential plans to go out to a club as a group, though Louis’ doubtful that will happen. They haven’t done more than a movie or game night all term, and he knows that after pizza and beers have been consumed, nobody will want to move from the comfort of the living room. 

“Hey, Lou?” Harry calls from the bathroom, the door wide open. 

“Yes, love?” Louis’ pulling on a pair of black skinny jeans, despite Harry’s teasing that they’re all he owns, and stares down at his clothes to find a top to wear. He settles on a black Pink Floyd tee; they’re definitely not going to make it to the club, so who cares, right? Plus, he has a boyfriend now, he’s not looking to pull anyone else. 

When Harry doesn’t answer after Louis’ pulled his shirt over his head, he pads over to the bathroom to join him. Harry’s carefully swiping mascara onto his eyelashes and Louis waits until he’s done before wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist. He hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder. They smile at each other through the mirror. 

“Louis,” Harry murmurs, ducking his head shyly. Louis tightens his hold on him to encourage him to keep going. “Lou, why haven’t we had sex yet?” 

Louis’ eyebrows shoot up at the question and he almost lets go of Harry in his shock, both at what he said and the fact that it’s perhaps the fastest he’s ever heard him speak. 

“Uh-“ 

Harry cuts him off. As he word vomits, he turns so he’s facing the other boy. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I know you’ve… Well, that you have before, and that you used to, like, often , and I just… Are you not attracted to me? Are we waiting for something?”

Louis blinks in surprise a few times before softly laughing. Harry’s face scrunches in confusion. 

“Baby…” Harry shivers slightly again. Louis smirks again. “Love, I just didn’t want to rush anything. We’ve been together for like… four days.” 

Harry’s cheeks turn a beautiful pink and Louis’ glad that the younger boy has a few inches on his so that he can still see his face when he ducks his chin like this. 

“I know, but I-I don’t want you to think we can’t. Or that I don’t want to.” 

Louis pecks his lips, light and sweet, which has the desired effect of making Harry smile. He smiles back for a moment before asking the question he’d be thinking about for far too long: “Harry, have you… ever?” 

He’s answered with a roll of green eyes and gentle slap to his chest. “Louis Tomlinson I’m not a virgin!” 

Louis laughs, squeezing Harry’s lean hips in his sinfully tight white jeans. They look like they’re not even menswear, not that Louis’ complaining. 

“I wanted to check! I know you’ve had boyfriends, but I don’t know, love. Didn’t want to assume.”

Harry smiles, pressing his lips quickly to the corner of Louis’ mouth before he turns back around. He’s grabbing a tube of lip gloss and Louis can feel his heartbeat quicken as the smell of watermelon invades his nostrils. 

“Babe, please don’t think I’m not attracted to you, okay? I… I’m just scared of rushing things. I don’t want you to think I’m only with you for sex or something.” Truthfully, Louis also can’t get what Harry had said in their fight out of his mind, if the boys weren’t there, would you have fucked me then left too?

Harry nods slowly as they make eye contact in the mirror once again. Over the past few days they’ve shared their fears enough that Harry knows what Louis’ talking about, how he often when in dick first into relationships, how that made it more difficult to get to know people properly. 

“But Lou, we already know each other. It’s not really rushing,” Harry almost whines. He’s pouting now, and Louis smiles softly at the sight. “Lou, please can I give you a blow job?” 

Louis laughs breathlessly, and licks his lower lip. “I’d love it if you’d just wait.” 

Harry’s pout only grows more prominent, and the look in his green eyes match his petulant attitude. 

“Trust me, Haz, I want that. I really want that. But you deserve more. Hell, you deserve a bloody date first, yeah? A proper one. One with flowers.” 

Harry giggles quietly. “Lou, you already took me on a lovely date. One that even included flowers!” 

“Okay but neither of us considered that a date!” Louis groans, stepping aside now that Harry seems to be ready. “You deserve the world, love.” 

“Mhm, so you’ve said,” Harry replies easily. He grabs Louis’ denim jacket off his desk and slips it on over his lavender sweater, blushing a bit when Louis looks at him with an excited glint in his blue eyes. The older boy says nothing though, pulling on a leather jacket and shoving his feet into a pair of trainers.

Harry pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning around with his hand now behind his back as he looks at Louis. “Lou, you do give me the world, you know that right? You make me so happy.” Louis’ head tilts to the side and his eyes seem to sparkle, even in the poor lighting of their dorm room. “You’re the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for.”

Louis licks his lower lip then takes a few steps to close the gap between them. With a hand on Harry’s hip, he kisses him soundly, his thank you unsaid between them.  

~~~ 

Louis should have known that dinner that night was going to be different. 

As soon as they walk in the door, Zayn’s eyes zero in on the jacket Harry was wearing – one that was well known to be Louis’ favorite – and smirks like the cat who caught the canary. 

“Well, well, well,” the raven haired boy laughs. “Looks like Louis finally got his shit together!” 

Niall looks between Zayn and Louis with confusion while Liam just smiles. However, it’s Harry who is next to speak: “He did! He did! Came all the way to my mum’s house and everything, it was proper romantic.” 

Louis pulls Harry into his side and presses his lips to Harry’s shoulder fondly. He’s watched while Harry told Gemma about their new relationship, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing Harry gush like this, knowing that he’s the one who put the smile on his face.

“So, you two are together now?” Niall asks, still seemingly unconvinced. “Like, no more kissing and running?” 

Louis groans and tightens his grip on his boyfriend while said boyfriend just giggles and squeezes the arm that’s against his stomach. “No, he’s trapped now. I’m not letting him go.” 

“Looks like Lou’s the one not letting go,” Liam teases, winking to Louis before he slips into the kitchen. He returns with a round of beers, setting them on the living room table as the rest of the boys find seats – Niall on the floor, Liam and Zayn sharing the comfortable armchair, and Harry and Louis snuggled up on the couch. It’s just as it always is barring the fact that Harry now has a leg hooked over one of his and it’s the most lovely thing in the world. 

Except, of course, when they’re starting to play Fifa Harry starts to get a bit antsy. He’s shifting way too much where he’s curled up in Louis’ side, his head comfortably using Louis’ shoulder as a pillow and his hand tracing idle patterns on Louis’ chest. 

It’s distracting is what it is, and Niall is absolutely kicking his arse. Which never happens.

Louis sighs as the final minutes of the game end, Niall standing up and doing a victory dance. 

“You’re distracting, baby,” Louis mumbles, turning his head and smiling fondly at the curly haired boy beside him. 

Harry shivers once again at the name, something that Louis has become keenly aware of in the past few days but has yet to explore further. 

“Sorry, Lou.” He says it softly, a whisper in Louis’ ear that the other boys can’t hear. Harry shifts in his lap, taking the controller as Niall announces he wants to kick Harry’s arse next. 

Louis’ always been keyed into Harry’s moods; he’s spent months now noticing the subtle changes in his behavior. He can tell when Harry’s excited, nervous, tired, tipsy. Today seems like a mix of things though; tired, tipsy, flirty, and something else Louis can’t place. 

He’s still trying to place it when they leave that evening, his sleepy, giggly boyfriend attached to his hip as they walk out into the cold evening to Louis’ beat up car. 

“Lou Bear, kiss me,” Harry whines, not letting Louis open the car door for him and instead resting back against it. His smile is innocent despite the dark look in his eyes. 

Louis laughs, having only had one drink himself, and pecks his lips without further prompting. Of course, that isn’t what Harry wanted. But Louis wants to have a little fun. “There you go love, now in you get.” 

“That wasn’t a kiss.” 

Louis’ boyfriend is a child . 

“Baby,” Louis whispers, his hand gently brushing against Harry’s cheek bones. He can see his nose turning red in the cold; the denim jacket, as cute as it is, and even with the white faux sheepskin around the collar, isn’t very warm. “It’s the end of November, we’re not snogging outside the car like we’re teenagers.” 

“’M nineteen,” Harry grumbles, but let’s Louis help into the passenger seat anyway. 

“I know you are,” Louis replies once he’s inside. “But you’re an adult now, love. And we’re not snogging in the cold when we have a perfectly only slightly chilly dorm with warm beds and blankets waiting for us.” 

Harry sits in the car, pouty as ever, but Louis doesn’t bother concealing his smile. He simply turns up the music, the familiar sounds of The Script filling the comfortable silence between them. 

~~~ 

“You’re telling me you still haven’t had sex yet?” Zayn asks the next morning. 

They’re once again on the football field, luckily for a game they’re hosting in their own city this time, and Liam delegated Zayn and Louis to get there early to set up the goal posts. Normally, Louis would grumble and complain, but Harry had given him his frog-face look when Liam had asked the night before so he begrudgingly said yes. 

Now, he regrets everything. 

“Zayn, will you quiet down?” Louis whisper yells. “It’s bloody early and I don’t think we need to wake up the whole campus, do you?” 

Zayn shrugs. “I just can’t believe Tommo’s managed to keep it in his pants for nearly a whole week. That’s a new record.” 

“Oh piss off.” Louis glares as he finishes fixing one of the nets. “It’s not like I’ve never gone a week without having sex.” He ignores the pointed expression Zayn throws at him from the other side of the goal. “And Harry is different, okay? He deserves more than a quick fuck.”

“It’s going to be quick-“ 

“Fuck off!” 

Zayn laughs, quiet but melodic. “I’m just saying! You haven’t gotten off with someone in like months, mate. You’re not going to last.”

Zayn perhaps has a point, but Louis has no intention of telling him that. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

“I don’t know, alright?” Louis groans, running his gloved hands over his face. “Harry’s just… He’s special, yeah? I’ve never dated a guy like him. And I don’t want to fuck it up.” Even as he says it, he feels like a broken record. But really, he can’t blame himself. He’s been told so many times over the past few years that he’s shit at this, that he doesn’t deserve love, that it’s hard to break out of it. Part of him is still scared that Harry’s going to get sick of him and leave. Even in his bliss with Harry he can still hear Robbie’s ‘Oh Lou, you don’t really think this was something real, right? We’re not… We were never in love. This was never serious between us. You’re just a good fuck.’ 

Fuck Robbie. 

“You’re thinking about him,” Zayn observes, watching Louis’ profile as they start walking to the other goal. 

“’M not.”

“You are. And I get it, babes, I do. But Harry’s not made of porcelain. He won’t break, and he likes you, and if he wants to… you should give it to him, yeah?” 

Louis sighs. As much as he loves Zayn, he really doesn’t feel like having this conversation, especially before nine in the morning. “Yeah, alright.” 

“Good!” Zayn says with far too much enthusiasm. “And to think, a week ago we were getting high and you were begging me for a damn boom box.” 

Louis laughs, light and genuine at the memory. Zayn’s a good friend. 

As they’re finishing the last goal, Louis can see a familiar tall figure making its way across campus. From their position on the pitch, he can see almost to his dorm. Louis smiles wide and excited as he watches his boyfriend walk their way, clothed in warm track pants, Louis’ old football hoodie from school, and a beanie. 

“Good morning boys,” Harry yells as soon as he’s close enough to be heard. The neighbors be damned. 

“Morning, Harry,” Zayn replies. His eyes flicker to the reusable travel mugs he’s holding. So do Louis’. 

“You brought me tea?” Louis asks, a grin on his face as he accepts one. He kisses Harry’s cheek as a thank you, a dimple forming when he pulls away. 

“I did,” Harry giggles. “Thought you’d need it. This is the earliest I think you’ve been up all semester.” 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, sipping on the warm, perfect cuppa from his perfect boyfriend. 

The other boys trickle onto the field after that, the ball being kicked lazily amongst them as they all begin to warm up. An hour later the other team arrives too, dressed in matching homemade jerseys in a horrible purple colour that makes Louis groan. 

“They look like Prince,” Harry whispers in his ear. God, Louis loves him . 

Before they know it, the sun is overhead on a rare sunny day and the coin is being flipped amongst the teams. Harry’s on the sidelines for this one, happily cheering everyone on and handing out water bottles beside Liam and acting as his pseudo assistant. Louis had made a face when Liam announced the lineup, one that did not include Harry, but the curly haired boy ensured that it was fine and that he knew he wasn’t any good anyways, so Louis conceded. Selfishly, he was kind of glad that Harry was on the sidelines cheering him on. 

And cheer Harry did, loudly and excitedly after every single one of Louis’ goals. Despite playing football pretty much since he could walk, Louis’ never actually had a boyfriend come to any of his games – Robbie didn’t like football, said it was a waste of time at their age. It’s a different feeling to run off the field and hug the guy you’re into or to blow kisses his way when you run down the field. Louis thinks he could get used to it. 

By the end of the game, they’re up 4-2 and Louis has no fears about them losing. Liam’s even relaxed on the sidelines, watching with a smile instead of his usual tense frown. However, Louis has never been one to give up easily. So, with only three minutes left, he steals the ball and starts sprinting down the pitch. The other team is clearly tired, and Louis runs his way towards a nearly open goal. One kick and the ball sails into the top right corner with the most satisfying swish . 

The whole team erupts into cheers and Louis’ smile feels like it’s going to split his face. He feels Zayn and Niall on his back, hugging him and yelling excitedly, but Louis shrugs them off as quickly as he can, running full speed to Harry. His boyfriend’s eyes are sparkling, his grin so wide that Louis thinks he might be able to pick up residence in his dimples. Louis crashes into him, squeezing the taller boy and lifting him up off the ground, spinning him around and craning his neck up for a kiss. 

Luckily, Harry’s on the same page, and nearly folds himself in half to connect their lips together. His lips part almost immediately, the press of their lips far dirtier than is perhaps appropriate for lunchtime on a Saturday. But Louis doesn’t care, because Harry’s here and they won and he’s never felt luckier in his life. 

“Get a room!” Niall yells somewhere behind them and Louis reluctantly pulls back, but not without pecking Harry’s perfectly full lips one more time. They taste like strawberries today and he’s a weak man. 

“Piss off, Nialler,” Louis retorts, flipping him the bird as he licks over his own lips, chasing the taste of Harry’s lips. “We won, didn’t we?” 

“We did!” Liam says, breaking the fight before it even begins. “Let’s go celebrate, yeah?” 

The team all cheers again; even in the cold the promise of a pint is welcome. 

Louis turns to Harry with a raised eyebrow. “You want to?” 

“Yeah, but maybe… Do you want to go home and change first?” His green eyes are still shining, though his pupils are significantly darker than they were a few minutes ago. Louis can’t help but smirk. He’s so lucky. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, baby.” Louis reaches down and takes his hand, their fingers stitching together in a way that’s already become habitual. He grabs his duffle bag too, slinging it over his opposite shoulder. “We’ll meet you lads there!” Louis calls over his shoulder before nearly pulling Harry in the direction of their building. 

The walk to the dorm is a mix of dragging and giggles and kisses, while simultaneously avoiding as many pedestrians as possible. Luckily they live close by, otherwise Louis perhaps would have ended up getting a citation for public indecency. 

Despite how eager he is, Louis’ still shocked to find out that the feeling is entirely mutual. 

As soon as he gets the door to their dorm open, Harry’s pushed him up against the wall, kicking the door closed with his foot. 

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Harry says, looking at him with eyes full of mirth. There’s an unnerving smirk on the boy’s lips and Louis knows that if he wasn’t already tenting his trackies his dick would be hard on the spot. 

“Yeah? Watching me play footie does it for you?” 

Harry nods, pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. The soft lips pressing firmly against his has him distracted enough to not realize that Harry’s already pulling down his pants and boxers in one far too fluid motion. He gasps into Harry’s mouth as a large hand wraps around his cock. The drag is dry but the friction is perfect. 

“Please,” Louis whines, his head pressing back against the wall. He watches as the younger boy falls to his knees in front of him and Louis feels fresh sweat forming on his skin. He’s too far gone to worry about Harry’s knees on the crappy carpet or the fact that he’s already exhausted after the game. 

All thoughts entirely leave his brain as his cock is enveloped in the warm wet heat of Harry’s mouth. There’s no preamble, no kitten licks or kisses, just an entire mouth around his cock and a tongue licking around his length, slicking him up perfectly. 

“Fuck, baby,” Louis breathes, his head lulling down so that he can watch. He’d be lying if he hadn’t had this dream before, of Harry on his knees for him. But damn is it way better in real life. 

Harry hums around him, the vibrations making him moan, and when he looks down he’s met with moss green eyes so joyful he’s beginning to think that perhaps Harry’s been eager to do this all week. Maybe even longer. 

Louis threads his fingers through Harry’s curls to center himself, letting out a stuttering breath as Harry continues to work his cock. It’s a perfect mix of teasing licks and hard sucks, and, as if Louis doesn’t feel lucky enough, Harry takes him in deeper. The head of his cock hits the back of Harry’s throat and instead of pulling away, Harry just nods. Fuck . 

“Baby, holy shit,” Louis moans, pulling his hair ever so slightly to encourage him further. Apparently, that’s all the prodding Harry needs. He starts fucking himself on Louis’ cock, moving with speed and skill that has Louis struggling to will his eyes to stay open. But he’s close, closer than he’d like to admit, but he’s been left with only his right hand for over a month and Harry is so good at this . 

“I’m close, baby,” Louis manages to get out, his heart rabbiting in his chest and his balls tightening. Later, he’ll be embarrassed about how he didn’t last long, but right now all he can focus on is how Harry’s perfect mouth feels and how those green eyes are now brimming with tears as his cock once again hits the back of his boyfriend’s throat. 

Louis comes with a shout, his grip on Harry’s curls tightening as he shoots off into his mouth. Harry takes every last drop, swallowing it all down and gently suckling the head of his dick until Louis’ oversensitive. He gently pushes the younger boy back with a fond smile, his thumb gently running along Harry’s bottom lip. 

“That was incredible, baby.” 

“Thank you,” Harry says, his voice rough. He stands on wobbly legs, allowing Louis to grip his hips to steady him. He grins, pressing a kiss to the side of Louis’ face. Louis almost laughs at how innocent it is, pulling him in to kiss him properly instead, groaning when he can taste himself on the other boy’s lips. 

“Let’s shower, yeah? I want to return the favor,” he mumbles between kisses, reaching a hand out to cup Harry’s cock through the silky track pants. 

Harry nods eagerly, nearly tripping over his own legs as he forces his pants down his hips and walks – practically runs, really – to the en suite. 

~~~ 

When they stumble into the pub over an hour later, the entire team looks at them with knowing looks on their faces. Harry blushes immediately, even his ears turning red under his damp hair, but Louis can’t help but smirk. He gives them the finger and pulls his boyfriend close, kissing his temple as they slide into the empty space left for them in the booth. 

“What? Had to celebrate properly, lads,” is all he says before stealing Niall’s pint and downing it in one long gulp.

~~~ 

Louis thinks the best thing about living with your boyfriend is the fact that they don’t have to make time to see each other. At least, not in the ways he’s had to (and struggled to) in past relationships. Harry’s there when he gets home from class most days, he’s there when they get ready to join the boys for a night at their flat or the pub, and most importantly, Harry’s there every night and every morning. That’s maybe the best part. 

The worst part is the fact that they have nowhere to go when they get cross with each other. 

“Harry, you’re two meters away from me, I can see you pouting.” 

“I’m allowed to be mad at you, Louis.” 

“Of course you are, darling. And you’re adorable doing it.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Can I shut you up?”

“Fine.”

The other worst part, Louis realizes, is that he can’t properly pick Harry up for a date. At least, not in a way in which they can get filled with nervous anticipation. Not in a way that allows him to surprise his boy with flowers the way he deserves. 

So, he hatches a plan. 

Louis: hey baby, do you have plans tonight? 

Harry: sounds like I do now ;) 

Harry: what do you have planned?  

Louis: a date. with me. be ready at 7? 

Harry: yes, sir! 

Louis smiles down at his phone then looks up around their still not quite perfectly clean dorm. Try as he might, not even dating Harry can encourage him to properly keep his side tidy. 

Harry’s walking back from class now, so he quickly fishes out a pair of clean black skinny jeans and a button up shirt that’s only slightly wrinkled. He grabs some hair product and his electric razor, stuffing the items in his backpack. With that, he shuts the door behind him, but not before writing a cute little message on a sky blue coloured post-it note for Harry to find when he gets back. 

~~~ 

All according to plan, Louis gets dressed for his and Harry’s date at Zayn, Liam, and Niall’s flat. Luckily, they have an iron, so Louis looks quite fit when he knocks on the door to their dorm at seven sharp (he was standing outside ten minutes till, but wanted to be punctual, so he waited, despite having the key to said door and despite the looks neighbors gave him, clearly confused as to why he was waiting outside his own room in such a nice outfit). 

“One sec!” He hears Harry yell, and he can’t help but feel some butterflies fluttering in his stomach. They’re already calling each other boyfriend , and the boy still gives him butterflies. 

The butterflies take proper flight, however, as soon as the door opens before him. Harry’s standing there and he looks… ethereal. 

“Baby,” Louis breathes, trailing his gaze from his bare feet, up his incredible legs and up his torso. He’s wearing a shimmery baby blue shirt tonight with a lovely pair of trousers that make his legs somehow look even longer than usual. “You’re… fuck, you look beautiful, Harry.”

Harry giggles at the compliment, his earlier confusion when he opened the door gone as he pops a pose for Louis. It makes him laugh, but he still stands in the hallway. 

“Did you forget your key or something?” 

Louis shakes his head as Harry turns and sits down in a chair to zip up a pair of glittery boots. They must be new; Louis doesn’t recognize them. 

“No, I’m taking you on a proper date, love. Wanted to knock on your door like a gentleman.” 

“You live here,” Harry deadpans and even though his focus is down at his feet, Louis knows he rolled his eyes. 

“I know, but still,” Louis protests. “You deserve a proper night out, baby. I’m going to treat you the way you deserve.” 

Rationally, he knows he shouldn’t be this nervous to go on a date with his best friend and boyfriend. He knows Harry likes him, knows that the date is theoretically an arbitrary measure. But, after so long of being told that he’s a shit boyfriend, Louis feels like he needs to pull out all the stops to keep Harry happy. Harry deserves it too; he deserves the world. Louis plans to do everything in his power to give it to him. 

“You’re cute,” is what Harry says when he stands. He takes the few steps to be in front of Louis, kissing his lips sweetly. “What do you have behind your back, hm?” 

And fuck, Louis forgot he was even holding anything behind his back. 

“Uh, flowers. For you.”

Harry blushes prettily, taking the pink and yellow bouquet (he remembered Harry had a hard time choosing at the flower shop, so he asked for a special bouquet of both colours this time) and pressing his nose into the flowers. “They’re lovely, Lou. Thank you.” 

Louis nods. Niall had teased him earlier about them, said something about the fact that it’s cheating when you live together and both get to look at the pretty flowers, but Louis doesn’t care. Harry’s beautiful smile that makes his dimples pop is worth every penny. 

“Ready?” Louis asks as soon as Harry places the flowers in a vase – the very one they got a few weeks earlier at the flower shop they visited on their little road trip. 

Harry nods, reaching out for his hand as they walk out of the dorm together. Once the door is locked, they walk down the hallway, earning appreciative smiles from the other people living in their hall. Harry’s practically bouncing as they step outside, giddy with excitement in a way that makes Louis feel like a kid again.

“So, where are we going?” the curly haired boy asks, smiling at Louis with a playful look in his eyes that makes Louis’ stomach flip. He kisses him quickly, still reveling in the fact that they do this now. 

Louis just shrugs as they part, rubbing his nose briefly against Harry’s, ignoring the way that the boy shivers when the cold metal of Louis’ piercing touches the soft skin of his nose. He walks him over to his car, opening the door for him. “It’s a surprise,” he replies with a wink then shuts the door gently. He all but runs over to the driver’s side, slipping in and turning the heat on high to warm them up. 

Harry in turn is practically pouting. “Won’t you tell me? Please?” 

With a shake of his head, Louis replies, “nope,” and shifts the car into gear. 

Harry, luckily, gives up his protests as soon as Louis acquiesces the AUX cord. The car is filled with the musical samplings of Abba and George Michael with a few songs from The Script as they drive. Harry sings along, dancing in his seat and making Louis smile fondly the whole way there. 

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Harry’s giddy again. He recognizes where they are immediately. 

“Louis Tomlinson, are you taking me ice skating?! ” 

~~~

Hours later, after they’ve both skated and fell enough to leave them exhausted, Louis guides Harry off the rink. His smile, at this point, feels permanent. And the night has only just started. 

“That was the best date I’ve ever been on,” Harry says to him as they walk back to the car, their gloved fingers intertwined and swinging gently between them. 

Louis beams, pride swelling in his chest just from making Harry happy. He can’t help but agree, too. He’s sure that after one date with Harry Styles, he’ll never be happy going on another with anyone else ever again. 

“Yeah? How about we go back home and warm up.” 

Harry giggles but nods, stealing a few kisses as he leans casually against Louis’ car before he opens the door and slips inside. 

They listen to the radio on the way home, and Louis fidgets endlessly in his seat. He’s warm in the car but he feels even warmer as he thinks about what he hopes will happen tonight. 

~~~ 

After going on the date, Louis learns that another perk of living with your boyfriend means that there is no question of where you’re going after it ends. 

A gentleman would never assume that a night was going to end a certain way, but Louis knew from the minute he woke up that morning that at the very least, Harry would be in his arms once again at the end of the night. The question only was would they be naked and sweaty and sated, or fully clothed in their usual pants and sweats?

The question is answered pretty quickly. 

As soon as Louis parks the car outside their building, Harry looks over at him with the most adorable flushed face that he almost doesn’t see the way the other boy’s eyes have dilated. 

“Lou, please tell me the night isn’t over.” 

And who is he to deny his boy of anything? 

They make it back to their dorm room with only a few pit stops to trade smiling kisses, Harry giggling breathlessly every time Louis pins him against a wall. Louis’ incredibly thankful for the fact that they live in a fairly quiet hall, and that it’s a Saturday so most of their neighbors aren’t home. Bless. 

Getting the door open with Harry plastered to his back and sucking kisses along his jaw is a bit of a challenge, but Louis manages, eventually shoving the heavy door open with a triumphant grin.  

The boys stumble inside and the door shuts behind them with a loud click. Then it’s just… silent. They’re both breathing a bit more heavily than normal, but they’re just standing there, staring. It feels heated and the room is already warm – when did the heating get fixed? 

Then Harry’s on him, nearly mauling him with kisses and making Louis laugh. 

“You want this then?” he asks with a teasing lilt, his own hands gripping Harry’s waist with a bit too much pressure for someone who’s laughing the way he currently is. 

He feels like their already tiny room is smaller when Harry pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, just a tiny ring of moss green around blown black pupils. 

“Louis, I’ve been waiting for this for weeks .” Harry’s voice is somehow both higher and deeper than normal at the same time, coming out as a whine. That alone makes Louis’ far too tight pants even tighter. “And I haven’t had sex in…” Harry blushes, ducking his head as if he’s embarrassed. “A long time, Lou. A really long time.” 

Louis tips Harry’s chin back up, gently rubbing their noses together because he knows it always calms his boy down. “We’ll go slow, yeah?” 

“Slow, but we’ll… Please fuck me.” 

Louis presses their lips together for one, two quick kisses then nods. He rolls his hips up, a self-satisfied smirk on his face when Harry moans. 

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” 

And Harry shivers , despite it being far too hot in their room, despite still being fully clothed in his bloody coat and scarf. He fucking shivers . 

“Fuck,” Louis breaths, kissing Harry desperately as he starts to shove at his clothes. He pushes the heavy coat off his shoulders while licking into his mouth. He pulls off the scarf, tossing it behind him with a fleeting moment of thinking what they could do with it, before shaking his head and instead gently nipping at Harry’s lower lip. Louis starts unbuttoning Harry’s shirt as he sucks on his tongue, pulling out a myriad of sounds from the taller boy. When he finally parts their lips to breathe, Harry’s panting and wearing only his jeans, which are shoved halfway down his thighs. 

Harry blinks at him, seemingly stunned. Louis smirks.

He walks backwards as he tosses off his own coat. His thighs against his mattress as he’s unbuttoning his too-crisp shirt. Harry stares, eyes wide, when Louis peels off his own skinny jeans and toes off his shoes. It’s not the sexiest move he’s ever done, but he feels so hot under Harry’s gaze, just his eyes leaving a trail of fire on his body. 

“C’mere,” Louis mumbles, his arse hitting the mattress as he falls onto it. It’s been a while since they’ve used his bed, so it’s perfectly made and probably clean. Clean enough, at least. And honestly, Louis doesn’t want to have sex while being stared at by Harry’s stuffed animals. 

Harry walks over to him with a surprising amount of restraint, ridding himself of his trousers and tiny black pants before settling – naked – in Louis’ lap. 

And Louis feels like the luckiest man alive. 

“I’m the luckiest man alive,” Louis whispers before tilting his head up to meet Harry in a kiss. It’s slow, slower than they’ve been in the last few minutes. They take their time, almost like getting reacquainted. They trade soft, open mouthed kisses for ages, as if their hard cocks aren’t centimeters apart. Harry’s arms are around his shoulder, one of large hands gripping Louis’ coiffed hair. 

Harry is smiling when he pulls back, looking even more ethereally beautiful now than he had at the beginning of the night. Louis squeezes his hips to keep him from saying something stupid. Instead, he goes for, “What do you want tonight, love?” 

Harry appears to think over his answer thoroughly, like he’s working out a maths problem and not deciding how he wants to get fucked. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Harry begins, pressing a finger to Louis’ lips when he opens them to tease him. “And I want to see your face while you do it. Please.” 

“So polite for me, baby,” Louis teases. His hands start roaming over Harry’s skin, up and down his broad, warm back. He allows himself to go lower, down to his boy’s arse and squeezes the perfect cheeks. Harry’s back arches at the feeling, pressing their chests together. And Harry’s so tall like this, elongated and so pretty. “Beautiful.” 

Harry’s cheeks turn just a slightly darker shade of pink at the compliment, and Louis could tease him about it. He could make fun of the fact that Harry’s blushing at a simple compliment while Louis’ hands are literally on his arse and he’s about to fuck him. But he doesn’t. Because Harry’s made him go soft and his boy is so irresistible with his little blush and he just wants him to keep looking this happy all night. And forever. Definitely forever. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Louis repeats as a mumble, slowly moving their hips together. 

Harry’s blush deepens and he tucks his head into Louis’ neck so they can better grind hips against each other. He giggles into Louis’ shoulder and Louis presses sucking kisses along his neck. 

“You’re the most beautiful boy, baby,” Louis whispers in his ear. Harry whines quietly, his skin warm. Louis can feel his smile. 

Harry’s whines get more desperate as their hips press together. Louis feels mildly like a bloody teenager like this. So, with a kiss, he gently maneuvers Harry onto his back. He grabs a pillow to prop his hips up, making sure he’s comfortable. Louis vaguely thinks that he’s perhaps never cared more about his partner’s comfort than he does right now. Harry’s something precious though, and he deserves to be treated as such. 

“Please,” Harry weakly begs, looking up at Louis with fully blown pupils and pleading eyes. Louis’ a weak man. 

He reaches blindly for the lube that had previously been collecting dust in his nightstand, grabbing the bottle and a condom. He leans down and kisses his boyfriend, slow and deep, but over quickly. He has things to do. 

Louis presses open mouth kisses down Harry’s body, giving extra attention to all four of Harry’s nipples. It makes Harry giggle, a light breathy sound that makes his heart swell. He trails his lips down the rest of Harry’s stomach, to the soft tiny bit of baby fat that’s still holding on, down his abs that are visible despite that. He kisses down the soft hair between his belly button and his waist before moving over to his thighs. 

Harry’s breathing is getting heavier with each passing kiss, and by the time Louis takes him into his mouth properly, he mewls. It’s the best sound Louis’ ever heard. 

He hums around the head of his cock before pulling off. He licks along the length, a hand at the base and a hand on his hips to steady him. He could do this all day; he would happily spend hours teasing Harry and sucking his cock. But his boy asked for something else, so Louis sits back so he can grab the lube. 

Harry watches him with heavy lidded eyes as he slicks up his fingers. He manages to squirt out a bit too much, making them both laugh when it drips onto the sheets, probably leaving a stain. Louis just shrugs, a playful smile on his face that matches Harry’s own. 

Even having sex with him just feels so comfortable. There’s no pressure like he’s had with other partners. There’s all the freedom to be himself that comes with having sex with a stranger but the love that Louis’ never really known. 

“Ready baby?” Louis murmurs, his eyes searching Harry’s as he gently circles his fingertips around Harry’s hole. 

Harry nods quickly, clearly eager. Louis chuckles and flattens himself to the bed as Harry’s body relaxes and he’s able to slip a finger inside. It’s tight and warm and wet and he has to bite his lip to hide a moan. Harry gasps softly but nods for Louis to continue. 

Louis moves his finger slowly, allowing his boyfriend to adjust as he presses in further. He fucks him with his pointer finger as he attaches his lips to Harry’s inner thigh and sucks a mark there. Harry moans, which is good to know, and Louis adds another finger. 

Louis works him up to three fingers slowly, giving him proper time to accommodate his digits. He’s never gone this slow in his life, well not since he lost his virginity, and it’s almost peaceful. They’re moving slowly, carefully, each action purposeful. Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s dick before he curls his fingers and, evidently, brushes against Harry’s spot. 

Harry gasps a low, “Oh,” and fists a hand in the sheets beside his hips. “Right there, Lou. Please, m’ready.” 

Louis hums softly and ignores his request for a few more moments, watching his fingers push in and out of him with ease, reveling in the sounds he’s pulling out with his boy every time he brushes against his prostate. 

“ Please . Please, fuck me.” 

Louis can’t say no to that. 

“Okay, baby,” Louis mumbles, pulling his fingers out, to which Harry whines. He rips open the condom, laughing to himself when Harry bats his hands away, taking it into his own hands instead. With long fingers, Harry pushes the condom onto his dick. It’s the first touch his poor cock has had all night, and Louis’ mildly embarrassed that it makes his dick twitch. But then Harry kisses him desperately and all awkwardness is gone. 

“Fuck. Me. Louis.” Harry’s voice is breathy and beautiful. 

Louis smiles, sealing their lips together again. “You just rhymed.” 

Harry groans and falls back against the pillows while Louis chuckles, proud of himself. 

“You’re the worst. I need a new boyfriend.” 

“Mmm but this boyfriend is going to fuck you now and make you feel so good,” Louis teases. He grabs the lube and slicks up his cock then wipes his hand on the sheets. He situates himself between Harry’s legs then gently presses his boy’s knees into his chest. Harry smiles dopily at him and once again his stomach flips. “You ready, baby?” 

Harry nods with what looks like a nervous smile. He has excitement in his eyes though. He looks so blissed out and Louis hasn’t even fucked him yet.  

Louis’ first time fucking into Harry is transcendent. Which, he vaguely thinks, is the most cliché thing he’s ever heard, but it’s true. Harry is tight and wet and hot and perfect . He feels like he could come and it’s been .2 seconds. He usually has a bit of stamina. 

“ Baby ,” Louis groans, his head lolling forward as he waits for the okay to start moving. 

Harry’s eyes are shut as he adjusts, clenching around Louis as he gets used to the stretch, or maybe just from Louis calling him that. When his eyes flutter open, he’s nodding, and Louis starts to shallowly thrust into him. 

They build up a rhythm, the only noise their skin pressing against each other and the soft sounds they draw out of each other. 

The air around them is heavy and far too warm for November, and it smells like sex and sweat. Louis wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Louis’ hips start moving on their own accord not long later, finding Harry’s prostate and nailing it almost every time his hips snap forward. He presses in fast and pulls out slow, panting softly. Harry’s gasping and whining and moaning beneath him, probably loud enough for their neighbors to hear through the paper-thin walls. 

Their lips connect in a desperate kiss as Harry starts to fuck himself down to meet his thrusts. Louis smiles into it and reaches a hand down to wrap around his boyfriend’s cock. He strokes him quickly, using the precome that’s beaded at the head to smooth the glide. Harry’s begging beneath him, a string of garbled words. All Louis can make out are yes and please and Louis . 

Harry comes with a cry, his head falling back into the pillows and his hips bucking up into Louis fist. He clenches around Louis cock and Christ, Louis’ so close.

Louis comes a few thrusts later, his hips stilling as he spills into the condom and moans Harry’s name. His hair has lost most of its product and has fallen in sweaty clumps on his forehead. He brushes it away so he can see his boy and fuck, he’s gorgeous.

Harry’s looking at him with the most love filled eyes he’s ever seen. And if they hadn’t only been dating for like a week, Louis would say those three words right now. Because he feels it, his entire being is screaming with it. He loves Harry and he knows that the feeling is mutual. 

He kisses Harry as he slowly pulls out, swallowing his whines. Louis ties off the condom and tosses it towards the bin between their beds then collapses onto the mattress beside his boyfriend. Harry curls quickly into his side, the warm weight of his head on his shoulder wonderfully familiar and intimate. 

Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s curly hair, the smell of his shampoo distilled a bit by his sweat. They lay there in silence for a moment, both just trying to regulate their breathing. Harry hums minutely with each heavy breath, his hand splayed on Louis’ chest, right below his 78 tattoo. Louis traces figure eights on Harry’s shoulder with the biggest smile on his face. He’s never felt this good after sex before. 

“Was that good?” Harry eventually asks. His head is still tucked under Louis’ chin, so he can’t see how wide he’s smiling. 

“Baby, that was…” Louis whistles out a breath.

Harry giggles and moves so that he can see his face. Louis grins at him, an eyebrow raised. He feels like he could cry, he’s that happy. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good,” Harry hums. His lips press softly to Louis’ chin, where stubble has just started to grow in a slight shadow. 

There is silence for a few more minutes, Louis’ eyes trained on the ceiling while Harry looks at him. It should feel intense, uncomfortable even. And it probably would with anybody else, but it’s different with Harry. Everything is different with Harry. They’re acutely comfortable with each other in ways Louis’ never experienced with anyone before. 

“What are you thinking?” Harry asks softly, his voice warm and familiar, saying the words they’ve whispered to each other dozens of times. 

Louis smiles at the thought of more nights like this, curled up with his boy and sharing what’s on his mind because he’s safe to do so. Because he knows Harry won’t judge him or chastise him or tell him he’s crazy. 

He shifts, his gaze meeting Harry’s again. Louis squeezes him impossibly closer, ignoring Harry’s sticky come drying on their stomachs. 

“I’m thinking,” Louis begins, feeling like he could cry again as Harry’s eyes bear into his soul. But he doesn’t cry, because Louis Tomlinson doesn’t cry. “I’m thinking that nobody’s ever looked at me the way you are right now.” 

Harry smiles at that, an adorable grin that makes his dimples pop and makes him look young, carefree, serene. He ducks his head back down, pressing a kiss over Louis’ heart in what Louis thinks is an unspoken I love you too .  

~~~

Another perk of sharing a dorm with your boyfriend, Louis realizes later, is being able to sleep on fresh sheets after sex without having to take the time to change them. 

Harry’s nearly asleep in his arms, but the come on their bellies is starting to fully dry and it’s getting uncomfortable .  

Plus, there’s lube on the sheets both from their bodies and where Louis spilled some earlier and it’s just gross. 

Harry deserves better than this.  

“Baby, let’s sleep in your bed,” Louis whispers, still petting Harry’s drying curls. 

Harry whines but compiles, slowly standing. Louis guides him with hands on his hips to the bed a few steps away and makes sure that he’s comfy before he stands to check that they locked the door. He flips the light switch while he’s up then ducks into the bathroom to wet a flannel before he joins Harry back in bed. The boy is already curled up facing the wall, hugging the favorite stuffed bear to his chest and burrowing into his plush pillow. Louis gently presses against Harry’s shoulder so he turns over, then he cleans his boy up with soft touches and sweet kisses to his sweaty skin. He tosses the flannel aside when he’s done and Harry turns back into his original position as the little spoon. Louis hums fondly as he settles into his spot behind him, tangling their bare legs together. 

Louis snakes his arm around Harry’s waist, smiling like an exhausted, love struck fool. He knows it’s early, but those three words are on the tip of his tongue. He presses a few kisses to Harry’s shoulder to distract himself, focusing on the rhythmic way Harry’s ribs are moving under his hand with each breath instead of the way his brain is screaming I love you I love you I love you . 

Chapter Text

Harry 

After Harry’s plans to seduce Louis work, the two are a bit insatiable. Or really, Harry is insatiable and Louis gives him everything he wants. He’s a wonderful boyfriend. 

But.

There’s one more thing Harry wants. And, luckily, he thinks Louis wants it too. 

Their sex life is great, fantastic even. Easily the best sex Harry’s ever had in his life and if the words Louis mumbles into his hair afterwards is anything to go by, the feelings are reciprocated. 

The thing is, Louis has just been so… sweet. He’s the most loving and attentive boyfriend possible, which in daily life is perfect, but in the bedroom – or, bed, really – it’s just… mildly infuriating. Because the thing is, Harry likes it a little rough sometimes. Don’t get him wrong, he adores the love Louis puts into fucking him, it’s love making at its finest and it gives him butterflies and blood rushing to his dick just at the thought. But sometimes, sometimes he likes it rougher. 

So, because talking is not Harry’s strong suit, he creates a little plan. 

He plans it all for the last night with the boys at the pub before the end of term. They’ve all survived their final exams and Niall insisted on getting proper smashed together before they all left town for nearly a month. Being drunk wasn’t quite Harry’s plan for how this would all come to the surface, but he figures that even after a few pints he’ll still be able to get his point across. Hopefully, at least.

“I can’t believe I get to go home tomorrow!” Niall’s like a kid in a candy store, excited to the nines and turning a cute shade of red after a few rounds. He’s louder than normal, but they all are, so they’re not about to complain. 

Harry giggles into Louis’ shoulder, his own excitement to see his family hasn’t really settled in yet, as he’s not going home for another two days. Plus, he already saw his mum a few weeks ago, so he wasn’t quite as homesick as the others.

“When are you two heading out?” Louis asks, nodding to Liam and Zayn as he reaches across the table for a nacho. He feeds one into Harry’s open mouth without thinking twice about it. Much to the rest of the boys’ dismay, the two have only gotten increasingly nauseating as their relationship has progressed. Harry loves it. 

“Tomorrow, too,” Liam supplies, ignoring Harry and Louis and instead grinning at his own boyfriend. “Zaynie’s coming home with me and then we’ll hop over to his parent’s place on Christmas day.” 

Harry feels Louis hum, nodding his head at the answer. They had discussed doing something similar, spending the holidays together, but it felt too soon. Well, Louis said it felt too soon. He hadn’t introduced anyone to his family since Robbie (and that hadn’t gone well). Despite promising that he wasn’t worried that Harry was similar to his ex, he just wasn’t ready and Harry hadn’t pressed it, simply nodded in understanding. Sure, it was going to be hard being apart for nearly a month, but they would have Facetime and Whattsapp and Snapchat and all the other apps under the sun. They’d be fine. Plus, Louis had already met his mum, so it didn’t feel as pressing of a matter. 

“Let’s play pool!” Niall suddenly announces, grinning as big as the Cheshire cat as he nods to the empty pool table tucked away in the corner. 

The rest of the group simply groans. 

“Ni, you’re utter shit at pool. You always lose and blame us,” Zayn points out. And he has a point. Even in the few months that Harry’s been joining them on their nights at the pub, he’s never seen Niall actually win a game. 

“I do not!” 

“Yes you do,” the group responds in unison. 

“Fine.” Niall pouts, downing the rest of his pint as he surveys the room. “What about darts?” 

And the thing is, he’s only marginally better at that.

“How about another round?” Louis supplies instead, noticing the empty glasses around the table. “And we can get more food, too. Nachos again?” 

The group agrees, and Harry is proud of himself for not pouting when Louis kisses his forehead and slips out of the booth. Niall stands to join him, the two making their way to the bar for more sustenance. 

Harry’s glad they’re not leaving tomorrow, especially as he watches Louis and Niall return with both a fresh pitcher of beer and a round of shots, as well as another plate of nachos. 

They all diligently take the shots, Niall’s idea, toasting the end of term before they all relax back into their seats. Niall and Louis get distracted as they discuss something about United’s new player, Zayn and Liam start snogging in the corner of the booth across from him, and Harry just tucks himself back under Louis’ arm, satisfied in his half-drunken state to just be in the comfort of his boyfriend’s warm body. 

Louis starts playing with his hair now, the curls that have only grown longer since the semester started and are starting to brush the tops of his shoulders. He nearly preens under the attention, feeling like goo when Louis offers him another bite of food. 

Harry smiles, munching on it happily. His brain is swimming in beer and tequila, focusing only on Louis’ body beside him. “Thank you.” All attempts as subtly have long gone as the night, and the drinks, have progressed. Harry doesn’t even think twice before whispering, “ daddy .” 

Louis freezes, stiff as a board as he gently reaches over to squeeze Harry’s knee. If not for the clear physical reaction, Harry would have assumed Louis hadn’t heard him. But he did, and he didn’t say anything. So, Harry pouts. 

~~~

The next day, they talk about it. 

Which Harry wanted, because he was envisioning this for weeks now, but it feels awkward all of a sudden, in the light of day, with them sober and both fully clothed. Well, at least with sweatpants on. 

They’re laying in bed the next morning, still spooning in the same position they were when they fell asleep the night before, when Louis finally brings it up. “Baby,” Louis softly whispers, the soft breath of air from his lips against the back of Harry’s neck, mixed with the word, makes him shiver, his dick twitching in the confines of his loose pajama bottoms. Fuck . 

Harry reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Louis’ where his hand is resting on the bed. “Yeah?” 

“We need to talk about last night,” Louis begins. He gently runs his thumb along Harry’s knuckles, pressing a few lingering kisses along his bare shoulders. “Can we talk about it now, Haz?” 

Harry nods, but doesn’t turn around. He’s happy to face the wall, already feeling a rush of blood flood his cheeks. However, Louis is having none of it, and before Harry can really protest, the older boy is turning him over so that he’s lying on his back. Louis lifts up onto his elbow and seals their lips together, warmth flooding Harry’s whole body. He kisses back, submissively allowing Louis to lick into his mouth. Harry turns to putty quickly. And if Louis’ smug smile once they part is any indication, that was his goal. 

“Can we talk about this now, baby? I need you to tell me.” 

Harry nods, his heart in his throat. He swallows again before speaking. “Yes, we can talk about it.” 

Louis hums appreciatively and rewards him with a kiss to the corner of his lips. He falls back onto the bed and Harry allows himself to be turned so that they’re facing each other, laying on their sides. Despite the too bright sun coming through the window, he feels safer like this, almost like they’re in their own little cocoon under his duvet and blankets. 

“So, daddy huh?” 

Harry groans and hides his face in Louis’ neck. He already feels awkward enough without the teasing. “Louis,” he whines, the sound muffled against his boyfriend’s warm skin. 

Louis laughs softly, which Harry can feel against his own chest and it makes him smile. 

“’M sorry, ‘m sorry. I just… you just called me that out of nowhere , love. In the middle of the pub, surrounded by our friends. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Fuck me?” Harry asks, pulling away again so he can look at his boyfriend with a hopeful look in his eyes. He smirks a little when Louis blanches. “Sorry. I mean, not really, but it… I’ve been thinking about it, kinda for a while?” 

Louis stills, blinking a few times as the information sets in. “You have?” 

Harry nods, staring down at their chests now, focusing his eyes on the delicate script of Louis’ chest piece, trying to mask his embarrassment. “I have…” 

“Can you tell me why, love?” Louis' voice is genuine, sweet, and warm. Harry knows he’s safe here. As much as they tease each other, Louis loves him, even if they haven’t said as much with words yet. Louis says it every day in the way he cares for him, in his kisses and soft looks across the room. 

With a deep breath, Harry says, “You just... take care of me? All the time. You always know what I need and you make me feel so safe , Lou. You’re… I don’t know, but it just fits? And you call me baby a lot…” 

“And you like it when I call you baby, right?” 

Harry nods again, his teeth digging into his raw bottom lip. 

“Is that part of this, love?” 

Harry looks up now, a small smile growing on his face. “I think so? I’ve never… Well, my last boyfriend never called me baby, but I like it when you do. I guess it is part of it, yeah. I like being your baby. Feels like I belong to you, or something.” 

Louis’ smile matches his own now and Harry lets himself stare for a moment, appreciating how perfectly golden Louis looks like this. Despite it being the middle of winner, Louis’ skin is glowing and his eyes are shining and he’s the most beautifully radiant person Harry has ever seen. 

“Well, I love that you’re my baby,” Louis murmurs, wrapping an arm tightly around Harry and pulling him in close so they’re touching chest to chest. “And I think I’d love being your daddy, too, darling.”

“Really?” Harry asks, breathless just at the possibility . 

Louis notices and nods his head. He’s so earnest it makes Harry want to cry. “So, we’ll explore this, yeah?” 

Harry hums softly and presses a kiss to Louis’ lips. “Please?” 

“We’ll take it slow.” 

Harry nods now, watching with heavy lidded eyes as Louis straddles his waist. He can feel his heart beat in his throat. He’s sure Louis can feel it too with the hand that is running up his sides, tracing his ribs. “Okay.” 

“Will you let daddy take care of you now baby?” 

Fuck . 

It’s everything Harry’s been wanting. 

When he speaks, it’s perhaps the deepest his voice has ever been. He nearly chokes on the single word: “Please.” 

Louis smiles, nodding once before he takes Harry’s hands and sets them against the headboard in an unspoken request for him to keep them there. Harry is happy to oblige. He’d do just about anything Louis asks him to, especially now. 

“Such a good boy, baby. So polite for me.” Harry moans. All his filthy dreams coming true right in front of his eyes. 

His boyfriend’s smirk has him giggling though, unable to help himself when his big scary boyfriend looks like that, his smirk that’s supposed to match his bad boy persona just somehow making him look even softer. 

Luckily, Louis is unfazed. 

He moves down Harry’s body, staring intently on where Harry’s hard cock is tenting his flannel pajama pants. They’re a bit tight, a dead giveaway that he’s stolen them from Louis’ own dresser, not that he minds. 

Louis sits up on his heels as one hand moves to gently palm Harry’s cock. Even just at the slightest bit of friction, Harry’s hips buck off the bed, searching for more. 

“So needy,” Louis tuts. “Tell me what you want, baby. You were so good, telling me what you wanted earlier, what you needed. What can I do for you, love? I want to make my good boy feel good.” 

It’s everything. It’s absolutely everything, Louis is everything, and Harry already knows he’s not going to last. Just the soft hand stroking his clothed dick is making him writhe in the bed. 

“K-Keep talking,” Harry manages to stammer out once he realizes that Louis really wasn’t going to do anything unless he asked for it. “Please, daddy. More .” 

“More what, baby?” Louis asks, saying it so casually, in the same tone he uses when asking what Harry wants for dinner. Like his hand wasn’t stroking Harry’s cock. 

Harry takes a deep, stuttering breath. He squeezes the headboard to ground himself a bit and finds the perfect anchor by looking in Louis’ brilliant blue eyes. “Just more. Anything. Your mouth or your hand or your fingers, please .”  

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” 

Before Harry can focus on more than his own breathing, Louis’ pulled his sweatpants down his thighs, easily tossing them behind him in a move that is so practiced and sexy and damn, Harry feels like he’s never been harder in his life. All the blood in his body has rushed down to his dick and his brain already feels fuzzy and he hasn’t even come yet. 

Then Louis’ licking up and down his cock, effortlessly taking him in his mouth, his tongue teasing the slit before he bobs his head down and sucks and it is glorious. Harry loves his boyfriend, he does, for more than just his mouth, but damn is it an incredible bonus. 

Louis works him there, alternating between licking his tongue along the head and creating the most perfect suction. Harry can only watch, keeping his hands where they were placed against the headboard, moans falling from his lips. He should probably be more quiet, it’s early after all, but he can’t be arsed to care. The view like this is insane, something he hasn’t gotten over yet, especially with Louis’ cheekbones and his eyes when he looks up at him with his dick in his mouth and Harry’s already close. 

He whines, high pitched and desperate in warning and Louis slowly pulls back with an obscene pop . Which, of course, only has Harry whining louder and more desperate. 

“ Daddy!” 

“Shh,” Louis mumbles, his skilled hand wrapping around his cock instead. The glide is perfect, aided by Louis’ spit and the precome that’s formed at the head. Louis jerks him with practiced ease, moving up so he can press open mouth kisses along Harry’s cheeks, kissing his way over to his ear. Louis tugs gently on his earlobe with his teeth and Harry tries and fails to stifle his moan. 

“You’re being so good for me, baby, keeping your hands where I put them. You’re such a good boy.” His breath is hot and Harry’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. He focuses in on Louis’ words. He’s so close to coming that he’s dizzy with it. “Come for me, baby. I can see you’re there. Just let go, let me make you feel good. Want you to feel so good, baby.” 

And that’s all it takes for Harry to hurdle over the edge, his eyes snapping closed as his hips buck up into Louis’ perfect fist and he comes so hard he feels like it’s punched out of him. He’s a blubbering mess for minutes after, mumbling daddy and Louis and yes . 

When he’s finally properly coherent, the first thing he registers is Louis’ concerned face hovering over his own. Which is not right, not at all. 

“Wha?” Harry rasps, confused as to what he missed. Louis was proud of him a minute ago and now he looks almost scared. What did he do wrong ?

“There you are, my love,” Louis breathes, pressing feather light kisses all over Harry’s face. It makes him giggle sweetly, his heart still beating loudly in his chest. He’s okay . 

“I’m here,” Harry promises, twitching away from the onslaught of Louis’ lips to look at him properly. “Can I get you off, Lou? Please?”

Louis laughs now, the sound breathy and absolutely musical. He has the best laugh. Especially when they’re mostly naked in bed.

“I uh, I already got off,” Louis mumbles, leaning back down to kiss along Harry’s jaw. He sucks a small mark under his jaw, his favorite spot, one where Harry’s given up covering with make-up at this point. If a permanent love bite is the price to pay for Louis’ generous kisses, then so be it.

“What do you mean you already got off?” Harry asks, confusion seeping into every fiber of his being. He was out for a bit but not that long, and he really wanted to make Louis feel good too, he wanted to be good for his daddy. 

“You were good for me, love, so fucking good.” 

Oh, he said that out loud. 

“You just didn’t notice me grinding against your hip, I guess. I got off like a minute after you,” Louis says quietly, pulling away once he’s satisfied with the mark he’s made. “You did so well for me, baby.” 

Harry grins, feeling more beautiful than he’s ever felt. Happier too. 

“Can we sleep a bit more?” Harry asks, licking his lips and looking up earnestly at his boyfriend. It’s the weekend, they’re mildly hungover from the night before, and they leave tomorrow to spend a month apart. All he wants is to be wrapped up in Louis' strong arms, feeling safe and protected while he takes a little cat nap. 

“Mmm you can, but I really need to shower.” Louis gestures down to his own sweatpants, the glittery joggers Harry had picked out a few months back, and gives Harry a sheepish look at the wet spot on the front. 

Harry giggles but nods his head. “Okay… can I come?” 

“Thought you wanted to sleep.” Louis smiles widely at Harry’s indignant squawk, tipping his chin up so they can kiss properly. “Of course you can, baby.” 

The shower stall is small, but at least they have a private bathroom. And if they sleep for another four after and miss both breakfast and lunch in the dining hall, nobody can really blame two boys in love, right?

~~~

Christmas vacation is both the best and the worst, as probably most people in university tend to think. 

Louis drops Harry off at home with a few lingering kisses and promises to call him every day. Harry’s mum invites him to stay the night, of course, but Louis hasn’t seen his sisters since the beginning of term and he’s itching to get home himself. Plus, he has an hour and a half drive ahead of him and he’d rather not be bogged down by too much traffic if he can help it. 

So, Harry’s on his own without his boyfriend for the first time since they started dating. Really, since they met, minus the one night Harry spent at home after Louis kissed him for the first time.  

It sucks. 

But they’re definitely not codependent or anything. 

Harry busies himself with getting ready for Christmas. He and his mum bake up a storm, passing cookie plates out to all her coworkers, neighbors, and friends. They buy a real tree and Harry’s the one who carries it and sets it up in its stand in the living room, as he has for years. His sister comes home on the twenty-second and the volume in the house doubles. They play board games, do the dishes together in the evenings, and share stories about their new boyfriends while drinking eggnog in Gemma’s bed at night. 

Harry’s struck by how everything feels the same as it does every year, despite the fact that he himself feels like a brand new person. Because alongside all the festivities there are texts to Louis, calls in bed at night – both sweet ones where all they do is talk about their days and fall asleep, and ones where Harry is desperate and sweaty and begging – and teasing from Gemma about the “Louis face” he makes whenever anyone mentions his boyfriend. 

By the twenty-third, Harry misses Louis. Like really misses Louis. And he knows that it’s stupid, that he should be fine being away from his boyfriend for a few weeks, but to be fair, they’ve seen each other almost every single day since September and at this point Harry just misses the way Louis’ eyes crinkle when he laughs. That’s it, nothing else. Well, that, and the way that Louis makes him feel so safe when they’re in bed and he’s the little spoon. They should have practiced sleeping apart, Harry figures. Sleeping in the same bed for months makes sleeping alone almost impossible. 

However, Harry has things to do. That’s what he reminds himself as he gets dressed in a warm wool sweater and jeans, pulling a familiar denim jacket around his shoulders. It’s perhaps a bit thin for the weather, but it still smells like Louis and he misses him. (Louis had texted him asking where the jacket went the second day they were apart; Harry just sent back a cheeky selfie of him wearing it and nothing else.)

Harry slips out of the house after grabbing the keys to his mum’s car. He has one last Christmas/birthday present to get and he won’t be letting his own pitiful longing distract him from what he has been planning for weeks now. 

~~~

When Harry gets out of the car in front of his mum’s house a few hours later, the sky is dark and his body is stiff. Sitting for so long in the same position did nothing for his already bad back, and it pops as he unfolds himself from the small car. He stretches with a wince before he turns to head inside. 

“Hey baby.” 

Harry freezes. 

When he slowly turns to face the front door, standing there on the porch is none other than Louis Tomlinson. 

Harry’s never run so fast in his life, sore body be damned. 

“Why are you here?” Harry asks breathlessly minutes later, wrapped up in Louis’ arms with happy tears making hsi vision blurry. His lips are a bit bruised from how feverishly they’d kissed. 

Louis smiles at him fondly, using the pads of his thumbs to swipe away his tears. It’s so gentle that it makes Harry shiver. He leans into the touch, sure his face is as fond as it could be. 

“Well,” his boyfriend begins, pecking his lips one more time. “You see, I have this boyfriend and I thought that maybe he was missing me too much, so I figured I’d come up and see him.” 

Harry giggles with not an ounce of shyness. “It’s been like ten days, Lou.” 

“And? Did my baby not miss me?” Harry blushes but shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

They stand there in silence for a few more minutes until Harry begins to shiver from the cold and not just from Louis. But the older boy rubs his hands up and down his arms, stopping and squeezing his wrists together at the end. Harry winces. 

“What is it?” Louis has a concerned look on his face when he asks it quietly, not wanting to break their little bubble out here. 

Harry ducks his head with a blush, which results in Louis kissing him, as it always does. His chin stays down though after, unable to look Louis in the eye. 

“Hazza, c’mon. What is it?” 

When Harry stays quiet for a while longer, Louis tries again. “Baby, please tell me what’s wrong? I don’t like to see you in pain like that.” 

“’M fine,” Harry says quickly, his shoes scuffing the ground. “I just… Don’t be mad okay?” 

“Why would I be mad?” 

Harry bites his lip and looks up to meet his eye, replying, “Because I maybe got you something for your birthday. But I didn’t know you’d be here, so I thought it’d be healed by the time you could see it in person.” 

Louis’ jaw drops and his eyes go wide in a way that wouldn’t be out of place in a cartoon. It’s comical, and Harry giggles. When Louis speaks, his mouth is dry. “What did you do, Harry?” 

“I maaaaaybe got a tattoo.” 

Louis’ grip on his hand gets tighter and his face is so adorably pained. Harry feels powerful and absolutely smug. 

Before they can say anything else, though, the front door opens and suddenly warm air hits them. They both turn quickly to see Anne and Gemma in the doorway with smiling faces. 

“Are you coming in, boys? It’s cold out and you’ll both get ill if you’re out there much longer.” 

With another squeeze of their hands, Harry leads the way inside, smiling dopily at his family. He glances at both his mum and his sister before looking back at Louis, their eyes meeting and not breaking away. 

“Gem, this is Louis.” 

“I know who Louis is, you dunce!” She laughs, wrapping her arms around Louis and squeezing. Luckily, Louis’ quick to respond and hugs her back warmly. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Gemma,” he says fondly. God, Harry loves him.

“You’d think you two hadn’t seen each other in months, like one of you went off to war or summat with that welcome,” Gemma teases. She pulls away with a fond smile on he face; there’s no bite to her teasing. Harry still blushes though, hoping the chill from outside can hide how pink his cheeks are. His family doesn’t have to know how utterly gone he is for the other boy, though surely they already have an inkling. That’s beside the point. 

“Mum, I’m tired, can we go to bed?” Harry asks, glancing at her with his best puppy dog eyes. He knows it’s only half nine, but he is tired, and more importantly he has his beautiful and perfect and wonderful boyfriend holding his hand and he really would rather have him in bed alone. For sleeping, of course. Only sleeping. 

Anne, bless her, just shrugs in acquiescence. “Sure boys, go to bed. Door stays open though.” 

Harry nods, pulling Louis behind him. They pause when his mum yells up to them, “Louis, dear, how long are you staying?” 

“Uh just till tomorrow night, if that’s okay?” 

Harry giggles, fully prepared to chastise his boyfriend for coming all this way just to visit for twenty four hours, for Christmas Eve - his birthday. 

“Of course, love. You’re welcome here as long as you like.” 

Louis’ face is warm as he looks at Harry while replying, “Thank you!” 

They all but run into Harry’s bedroom from there, nearly tripping over each other in a rush to make it to the bed. Louis’ eyebrows are raised as he nods to the open door but Harry just shakes his head as he gently pushes it until just a crack is left open. 

“We’re really leaving it open?” Louis whispers and Harry nods. 

“Sorry, babe. You’ll have to keep it in your pants.” 

Louis looks pained as he flops back down against the bed and Harry giggles. He knows he’ll close the door by morning and wake his boyfriend up with the birthday blowjob he deserves, but the other boy doesn’t have to know that just yet. 

Instead, Harry pulls his jacket (Louis’ jacket) and jeans off, purposefully leaving his warm jumper on so it covers his wrist. Louis looks on from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed, and Harry pouts when he doesn’t undress as well. 

“So, you got a tattoo?” Louis asks. He moves up the bed so that he’s resting against the headboard and Harry crawls unceremoniously in between his parted legs. 

“I said I maybe got a tattoo,” Harry corrects, his arms wrapping around Louis’ neck, carefully so as to not jostle his new ink still wrapped in its protective bandage. 

Louis laughs and the sound is music to Harry’s ears. “Okay, so if you were to have a tattoo on that beautiful wrist of yours, what would it maybe be of?” 

Harry giggles again, unable to contain his utter joy that his boyfriend is here in his bed again. He feels whole. Instead of replying with words, Harry presses a slow, tantalizing kiss to his lips. When they part, not without a couple of sweet pecks, Harry unwinds his arms and slowly pushes up the left cuff of his sweater. Revealed under the bandage is a dark black anchor on his wrist, large and detailed. It hurt like a bitch, but Harry wouldn’t complain. Truthfully, he had kind of enjoyed the whole process of getting it.

“Harry,” Louis whispers with awe in his voice, watching him carefully. He stares down at the newly inked skin, gently rubbing small circles on his boy’s hip with his right hand. “You really got a matching tattoo for my birthday?” 

Harry huffs, though he’s smiling. “It’s not matching . It’s corresponding. Your rope goes through my anchor.” 

Louis nods, his eyes flitting up to Harry’s face. He tips his chin and captures his lips in a searing kiss, one with that says so much without any words. The press of his lips is warm and inviting, constant and firm. Harry melts. 

“That means you like it?” he asks breathlessly, pulling apart when his pants start to feel noticeably tighter. 

Louis nods, chasing after his lips. “Harry, this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“You don’t think it’s crazy?” Harry asks between kisses. He had told Niall about his plan and the other boy had told him it was a bit nuts to get a tattoo for someone, especially someone you’ve been dating for less than two months. Especially if that someone was Louis. Harry pointedly ignored the last bit. 

Louis laughs, gently nosing his way along Harry’s jaw. His nose ring is still cold from standing outside for so long and Harry shivers, pressing his chest closer. He wants more, so much more, but is unfortunately keenly aware of the fact that his mum and sister are just downstairs. 

“Baby, I don’t care if it is crazy.” 

Harry smiles at him, his dimples popping. “You don’t?” 

“No,” Louis promises, looking back down at his wrist. He lines up their wrists, the rope beside the anchor. “Baby, this is… This is so beautiful and wonderful and romantic and sexy.” He pauses, once again letting his blue eyes meet Harry’s green ones. “Harry, I love you.” 

Harry can’t help the tears that flood his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. He doesn’t want to cry right now. “I love you too, Lou. So much.” 

His eyes fall shut as Louis’ mouth once again finds his. He lets Louis manhandle him until they’re both laying down, Louis hovering over him, trading lazy kisses, just soft sucks of lips and reverent swipes of tongues, for what feels like hours. They pull apart when the door pushes open a bit further, Gemma’s thumb stuck in the doorway to give them a thumbs up as they giggle.

“Good night boys!” 

“Night!” They yell in unison, Harry turning bright red. He can’t be too embarrassed though, not when he has his boyfriend – who loves him – in his bed. 

Louis slips out of bed at that, shrugging off his clothes quickly and getting back in bed in only his boxers. Harry smiles and turns, allowing Louis to once again take his place as the big spoon. “I love you,” he mumbles, a smile on his face as he thinks about the events of the day. 

“I love you, too,” Louis whispers, emphasizing the point to a kiss on his shoulder. 

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock down the hall and the soft sounds of the cats scampering around the bottom floor. 

Tomorrow, Harry will sit in this very bed and open a small box from Louis, one he wrapped himself in festive paper with a bow. Inside will be a silver peace ring, engraved with the words “always in my heart” on the inside, and Harry will love it. He’ll wear it proudly every day and will never take it off, a constant reminder of just how much Louis loves him.

Harry smiles wide when he watches his little alarm clock strike twelve. 

“Happy birthday, Lou,” he whispers, half asleep but wanting to stay up for this very moment. 

He can feel Louis smile against the back of his neck and it makes his heart swell. 

“Mmm thank you, baby. Best birthday ever.”