chapter 11

In the car on the way back, Louis can’t keep himself off of Harry. It’s worth it for how Harry smiles at him and blushes. Louis has to try to pull back, though, because he can’t be like that in public. He knows that.

Harry gets a little offended in the last ten minutes. “Why don’t you want to be near me?” he asks.

“I do, but cameras.”

Harry slumps back, defeated. “Oh.”

“Yeah. But I still love you.” Louis links his hand with Harry’s on the seat. “A lot.”

“Love you too.”

Their car is surrounded when they stop in front of the building. Harry’s scared, but Louis rolls his eyes. “Come on, it’s a few girls.”

“They’re really strong all together. Just wait, we’re going to the back.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“I don’t-“

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” Louis opens the door and steps out. He’s in control for all of three seconds. He can’t think through the screaming, barely registers the questions they’re begging him to answer. He’s swept away from the car before he can stop it, and he has to struggle to stay upright. “Get away from me,” he shouts, but nothing happens. He thinks he’ll be dragged down.

Then the car door opens again and Harry comes out. Louis gathers this after the fact, from the surge of girls toward the van. Louis is pulled with them, but he doesn’t mind. He pushes hard, harder than before, to get back to Harry. He calls for him. “Harry!”

No answer; he keeps pushing towards the tall head of curly hair. Finally he gets within grabbing distance. “Harry!” he calls again, and sees Harry’s head whip around. Louis sticks his hand up and waves frantically. As soon as Harry sees him, he reaches over and pulls him over with irresistible strength. Louis hangs on and pulls too, until he’s tucked between Harry and his bodyguard – who’s not doing much in the way of guarding, in Louis’ opinion.

Immediately, Harry wraps his arms around Louis and holds him tight. “I’m gonna die,” he says into Louis’ ear, voice small and terrified.

“You’re not gonna die,” Louis says immediately. “You won’t. It’s okay.”

“I can’t breathe and I’m gonna die.”  

Louis remembers then, that Harry is claustrophobic and definitely terrified of this crowd way more than any other human being would be, even more than Louis is. Louis feels a little more confident then, and a lot guilty. He gets up on tiptoes and hugs Harry around the shoulders for a second before the tug of the crowd forces him back down.

Louis talks directly in Harry’s ear. “Listen to me. You aren’t going to die. I’m dying first, remember? I’m old. You’re young and vibrant. You’re going to be okay, I’m right here with you.”

“They’re crushing me,” Harry says back. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sure you can. In and out, remember? You’ve kept breathing through worse than this. And you didn’t have me then. Don’t talk to them, don’t listen. You’ve got me, okay? We’ll be okay. Remember? Aiden was worse than this,” Louis teases. He wants to kiss him. “I want to kiss you.”

“You could,” Harry says in a tiny voice.

“No, baby, no I can’t. You know that. But once we’ve made it inside I will, okay? Just follow this bloke towards the door, it’s okay.” Louis notices some girl filming them from inches away; he accidentally knocks the phone out of her hands and steps on it. He’s glad Harry doesn’t notice; he’d probably try to get her a new one. “It’s okay,” Louis promises again. “Hold on to me.”

Harry turns Louis around and wraps his arms around him, letting himself be crushed against Louis. Louis doesn’t have to even walk; he lets the pressure of Harry and the bodyguard guide him. Instead he focuses on reassuring Harry.

“So. I should maybe make a habit of listening to you a little more, huh,” Louis says lightly, leaning back to speak in Harry’s ear.

“Maybe,” Harry says wryly. “Could’ve avoided this.”

“None of you get to touch my bum,” Louis shouts back at the crowd, and Harry laughs nervously in his ear. “Just you get to,” he says quieter to Harry. “You’re very fortunate.”

Harry smiles, nuzzles closer, and Louis hopes nobody has video footage of this. Then Harry gasps, one knee buckling, and Louis turns quickly. “What the fuck was that?” he demands, hauling Harry up so he doesn’t get dragged down.

“It’s okay, it was an accident, somebody kicked me,” Harry says quickly, but his eyes are watering and he’s limping.

Louis is crystally hard again; it’s surprising how easily that comes back when he needs it. “Fuck that. Get between me and Paul. Go. You’re the pop star.” Louis links his arms around Harry’s waist and glues himself to Harry’s back.

“Don’t call me that,” Harry complains quietly.

“It’s not an insult,” Louis says. “Turtle. You’re my pop star. You okay with that?” He keeps his voice soft so it’s lost in the crowd to everyone but Harry.

“I guess,” Harry puts his hand over Louis’ clasped ones, then drops it again. “I really can’t breathe,” he says. “I can’t, this is really… really…”

Louis frees one hand to pull it through Harry’s hair, ruffling it up and smoothing it back down. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not crushed. They’d have to crush me first, and that is not an easy thing to do.”

“Yeah, with your ass,” Harry says very softly.

“Hey. Shut your fucking mouth, dick face.” Louis pokes Harry in the side. “Twat. What’s wrong with you?”

“It makes me feel safe,” Harry almost whispers.

Louis rubs Harry’s side and presses closer. “Good. And y’know,” he murmurs, “if I wasn’t so terrified, your bum would be making me a bit hard.”

Harry wiggles back a bit. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.” Louis links his hands around Harry’s waist again and pets with his thumb over Harry’s little stomach. “You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be just alright and I’m right here for you. Look, three feet from the door.”

“Dunno if I’d make it further.”

Harry falls silent and Louis just holds him close and keeps cuddling him in a way that he hopes isn’t too coupley. He frankly doesn’t care, though, because Harry’s terrified into silence and Louis wants to burn down the world to make him okay. “You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s okay,”

Louis pushes Harry inside as soon as they’re close enough to do so. Harry hangs onto his arm so Louis can’t stop holding him. He turns as soon as they’re out of sight from the door and hugs Louis as tight as he can. Louis hugs back, feeling Harry go a little weak with what still must be fear. “Look, you’re fine. You’re just fine,” Louis says. “We aren’t crushed and you aren’t dead.”

“Thank you,” Harry says, trembling a bit. “Really, turtle, thank you so much.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it isn’t. Without you… there wasn’t anybody. I was just scared by myself.”

“I’m here now.”

“I know.” Harry pulls back but holds both of Louis’ hands. He’s very reluctant to let go. “I wish we could hold hands,” he says.

Louis hesitates. “Where are we going right now?”

“Backstage to the dressing room.”

“Are we gonna see anybody else?”

“Paul’s gonna take us there. But it’s almost empty here,” Harry adds hopefully. “We’re early. Please.”

It’s not anything Harry says that makes Louis want to give in. He knows it’s stupid, and he knows Harry would be fine either way. Neither of them want him to lose his job. But he loves Harry, and he wants to show him that in whatever way he can. He only lets go of one of Harry’s hands. “Nothing personal, but I’m dropping you whenever anyone comes near,” he says.

Harry nods. “Okay. That’s fine, okay.”

So they walk holding hands behind Paul. Louis asks after a bit, “Why do they mob you? I mean, if you’re so terrified of it and they claim to like you so much, why don’t they leave you alone?”

“I usually go in through the back, so they don’t know it scares me. And they don’t know… like, nobody knows. That I’m scared of…”

“Claustrophobic?”

“Yeah. Nobody knows that. I don’t know if my mum even officially knows. I haven’t been like, diagnosed. I’ve just always really hated it. So. They probably think I’m being dramatic. As usual,” Harry adds darkly.

“Stop it, stop it right now. You have a lot of fans, a lot of people you don’t even know who adore you. Drama queen or not.”

Harry lags behind a little, like smiling takes all of his concentration. Louis tugs him along. “I love you so-“ Harry begins.

“Stop,” Louis cuts him off. “Can’t do this here, stop. Turtle, though.”

He hopes he doesn’t hurt Harry with that; a glance over reassures him. Harry’s fine, a little subdued but just as content. “Turtle,” he mumbles happily.

Turns out it’s far harder to hide from the fans than it is their management. Harry’s so touchy with everyone that any unnecessarily sweet interaction can be lied away easily. Plus Zayn and Niall have a habit of jumping in and separating them a bit, to distract from what Niall refers to as “blazing sexual energy.”

But the fans. Louis is scrolling through twitter when he’s bored and sees thousands of tweets asking how close he and Harry are, where they went during break. A few even ask about what “turtle” means.

Harry tells him not to answer any of them, so Louis doesn’t, but he sees tweets from himself he doesn’t remember sending replying to a couple more sharply than even he would. That’s when Harry tells him that their PR team has access to his twitter.

Whatever. Louis barely cares. He’s going home on break with Harry.

Harry gets them a car. Louis and him pack their luggage into the back – all of it, not just a fraction like they took on their previous trip. Louis is looking forward to stopping home changing the rotation of clothes he has to wear. Harry seems to be looking forward to everything.

He can’t stop talking in bed the night after the last concert. Nestled in the crook of Louis’ arm, he just talks like mad for about an hour. Louis barely catches the gist; Harry wants to make a trip of it, driving up to London first, then to Louis’ flat and family, then to Harry’s. Louis doesn’t care. He kind of feels like letting Harry do whatever he wants, forever, just so Louis doesn’t have to make any more decisions. He always fucks up decisions.

So he just lies there in bed, next to this beautiful sweet boy that’s somehow his. He lazily runs a hand through Harry’s hair, hums approval at the appropriate times, and lets Harry talk himself out.

He gets a little mushy inside whenever he thinks about Harry, how much this all means to him. Louis is the only boyfriend in his life. He kind of adores Louis, so even small displays of kindness make Harry melty with joy. Louis wishes his first boyfriend experience was this fantastic. Rather protectively, he’s glad he gets to be Harry’s first. He likes being careful with him, kind of for fun but also for love.

Harry falls silent eventually. “Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“No, babe, not at all.” Louis kisses the top of Harry’s head. He likes how his hair feels damp after he showers, all cool and smooth.

“Do you want to do something different?”

“No. I don’t. Whatever you want to do, that’s fine. Long as I get to go home.”

“Okay. And you’re sure you don’t mind meeting my mum?”

“Nope. Don’t mind a bit. Sure she’s lovely.”

“Yeah, but…”

Louis has a gut instinct, and those tend to be correct for Harry. “Harry,” he says patiently. “I’m not upset that you’ve got a mum.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be perfectly nice to her, and I’ll like her, I’m sure. Mums are great. I love mums. And I’m not at all intimidated by meeting your parents, by the way. I’m sure I’m charming.”

Harry chuckles a little. One of his feet tickles at the back of Louis’ ankle as he tucks his foot underneath Louis’ leg. “You are,” he says. “But why would you be intimidated? They’re very nice.”

“Yeah, they’re also your parents and they’re the first time I’m going to tell anybody we’re together.”

“The lads…”

“They don’t count, I mean adults or like… authority figures. Important people. Look, it’s one thing to date you and tell you and the lads I love you. It’s something else to tell your parents I love you.”

“You’re gonna tell them that?”

“Yeah, why? Should I not?”

“No, I mean… it’s…” Harry struggles a bit. “You can’t take it back.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not freaking out?”

“Hell yeah I’m freaking out, but I’m not backing out.”

“Why?”

Louis hesitates. “You’ve become… very… important. To me,” he says, awkwardly formal. “I want you to be happy. And I want to… well. Settle down. With you. And I’m not… I’m not pretending it’s a recent thing, but it’s a strong thing. Inside. Me. Okay? Turtle. Congrats. You wore me down. You’ve wormed your way in.” Before Harry can start feeling too good, Louis adds, “But don’t be too pleased just yet. You don’t get out too easy.”

“I don’t want out.”

“Well.”

“No, I’m serious, Louis, I don’t want out. I want further in.”

“The further you go in, the more I’ll be able to hurt you.”

“Okay.”

“Not okay.”

“It is okay. You’ll be able to, but you won’t. Right? You love me.”

“I do. But I-“

“I know. You hurt who you love. But that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“How can you just believe that I won’t?”

“I just do. I love you back.”

This is exactly what makes Louis go so mushy. He kind of hates it, except that he loves it. So he hugs Harry’s head a little closer and kisses it again. “Love you, babe. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Harry turns onto his side and nuzzles into Louis’ chest. “Okay.”

“You realize, babe, that you’re bigger than me?” Louis says affectionately.

“Nah,” is all Harry says.

They have the room to themselves, so they can sleep in as long as they want and not separate in the morning. Louis gets to kiss Harry awake and pin him down and tickle him into getting out of bed. They get dressed, and Harry “accidentally” throws Louis the wrong shirt, so Louis ends up wearing Harry’s Rolling Stones shirt. Louis doesn’t complain; he tucks his nose under the collar and takes a deep whiff of boy and sweat and laundry detergent. Harry catches him sniffing and grins, but doesn’t comment. “We’ll go out the back,” he says.

Harry gets a call, though, about a last-minute meet and greet for a few special kids, so they have to delay leaving. Louis comes with him and stays back with the bodyguards and pretends to be taking notes on the interactions. It’s so hard for him not to just smile at how kind Harry is with all the fans.

And then one little girl whispers something to Aiden and Harry’s face just falls, before he can stop himself. He automatically looks to Louis, begging to speak to him. Louis nods, but Harry has to wait until they’re done with this picture. And then the next picture, and the next. They don’t talk until the meet and greet is over. Then Harry comes over, looking very pitiful and needing to be held.

“What happened?” Louis asks.

“The girl, um, said that she liked other girls and that him coming out really made her feel better about who she is as a person. Or something.” Harry shrugs, pretending to not be worried but the way he pulls in his lip and chews on it betrays him. Louis knows Harry’s about-to-cry face by now.

“Isn’t that good, though?” Louis tries to say. “Maybe he’ll be nicer when he sees people look at him like that.”

He’s pretty sure Harry’s physically biting his tongue. Then he bursts out, “They should be looking at me like that.”

Louis understands in a rush. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “They should.”

“Let’s just go.”

“Okay.” Louis fits his arm around Harry’s waist and guides him out. “C’mon, baby. I look at you that way, and I love you.”

“Hey guys, wait up,” Zayn calls, and Louis stops Harry for a second.

“We’ve got places to be, Malik,” Louis says. “No time to lounge about.”

“Yeah? Where are those places?”

“The places we live,” Louis says awkwardly. “I dunno. Bunch of places.”

“Places with cameras?”

“Maybe,” Harry says defensively.

Zayn looks at Louis long and hard. “You want this?” he says.

“I really do,” Louis nods. “It’ll be nice.”

“You’re risking a lot.”

“I am, and I want to. But… there don’t seem to be a lot of him floating around. And I’d like him to keep floating near me,” Louis explains. His heart seizes up in his chest in the following pause.

Harry drops his hands and wraps Louis up in his arms from behind. “Yeah,” he says simply.

Zayn nods, smiles a little. “Okay. Have fun.”

“We will.”

They walk with Harry still hanging on to Louis. He puts more of his weight on Louis and Louis groans. “Don’t even think about it,” he says.

“Piggyback ride,” Harry pouts.

“No. You’re the size of a young yeti, I’m not busting my knees to please you.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a light and delicate flower.”

Harry giggles. “Can I drive?”

“Go for it, pop star.” Harry laughs and sweeps Louis into his arms right before Louis is about to get in the car. “I can handle it, thanks,” Louis says dryly, but Harry insists upon picking him up and depositing him in the passenger seat.

“You’re so tiny,” Harry giggles as he gets in his own side. “You’d fit in a teacup.”

“What the fuck? You say the weirdest things, dorkwad.”

Harry just keeps grinning. “You should probably hide,” he says. “Paparazzi.”

Louis sighs. “Is this just an excuse to see if I’ll fit under the dashboard?” Harry just grins at him and Louis sighs before folding up his legs and slipping onto the floor. He fits easily. Louis glares at Harry’s delighted look. “Not a word.”

Harry pretends to be chastened as he starts the car and backs out of the parking spot. He keeps glancing down at Louis, though and smiling hugely. “You’re super cute,” he says quickly.

Louis reaches out and slaps Harry’s leg. “Twat. Apologize to me.”

“Never.”

“I’ll pull your leg hair out.” Harry doesn’t say anything, so Louis does just that. Harry yelps and the car jerks. “Keep your eyes on the road,” Louis says sternly.

“You’re evil.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

Harry grins. “You can get up,” he says.

Louis clambers back into his seat and props his feet up on the dashboard. “So. Where are we going first?”

“My flat in London. Just to spend the night there.”

“Do you have a bunch of weirdo sex stuff there? Is that what this is?”

“No,” Harry laughs. “Though it’s funny that’s where your mind went. I just want to show you where I live.” And Louis can tell it’s adorably important to him, that Louis likes what Harry picked and where he stays and enjoys his time there, so he doesn’t tease him anymore.

“Alright. How long of a drive?”

“Not long, but traffic. Probably about an hour. To go the long way, so we don’t get papped a bunch more.”

“Okay.” Louis settles in comfortably sideways in his seat. “So what are we gonna do in the meantime? Play bingo?”

“Do you have bingo stuff-“ Harry begins.

“Bingo stuff?” Louis demands.

“Well, what would you call it? No, I thought we could. Like. I made a mix? Of driving songs.”

“Driving songs,” Louis repeats, trying to pick which of the many insults that come to mind to tease Harry with. He decides against it. “What kind of songs?”

“Some alternative stuff. I don’t think you’ve probably heard any of it.”

“Are you gonna sing along?”

Harry glances at him nervously. “Um. No?”

“No, Harry.” Louis could slap himself. “Look, I just… don’t feel like you have to. That’s all. You’re not a pop star with me, and I don’t expect you to sound good or be impressive or anything. That’s all I meant. Turtle. Or whatever.”

When he looks over again, Harry’s smiling bright as the sun. “Okay,” he finally says. “Thanks. So you do want to hear it?”

“I do,” Louis nods. “Start it off.”

Harry has surprisingly cute taste in music. A nice mix of acoustic, weird, and indie. Louis has heard a couple of the songs, and the rest are catchy enough for him to not complain. Harry hums a little, sings under his breath, and taps on his steering wheels in time to the beat, and Louis is altogether charmed.

“I like your mix,” Louis offers while Harry’s parking. His complex has an underground garage – very posh, but Louis doesn’t say anything about it. He remembers how hurt Harry was by that before.

“Yeah?” Harry looks at Louis for altogether too long for someone behind the wheel of a moving Range Rover.

“Eyes on the road, kid. But yeah, I like it. Really, since I know that’s what you meant to say.”

Harry giggles and parks. “Just overnight stuff,” he says preemptively. “You can leave most of everything in here.”

“Okay. What about leaving everything in here and just using your stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harry says after a second. “That’d be okay, too.”

“Okay.” Louis gets out of the car, meets Harry around the back and holds out his hand. “Something to be said for a secure apartment complex,” he says.

Harry loves it. “Yeah,” he nods, taking Louis’ hand. “Thanks.”

“Sure, babe.”

Harry leads him to an elevator, presses the three when they’re inside. “So what kind of flat are we talking about, darling?” Louis asks curiously. He kisses Harry’s shoulder impulsively.

Harry grins uncontrollably. “Okay.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Um. It’s got two floors, it’s kinda big. The lawyers said it was a good investment.” Harry shrugs. Louis gets protective again, about big imposing men giving little baby Harry advice before he knows whether or not to obey them.

“Sound lovely,” Louis says aloud.

“Well, you’ll see in just a second,” Harry smiles. The doors open.

It’s fucking beautiful. Louis let Harry dictate the pace so he can stare. The living room has several comfy couches and a plasma screen TV hanging over a fireplace to the left. On the right is a bar separating it from the huge immaculate kitchen with a breakfast nook. Harry leads him through the living room down a few steps to a gorgeous little suite; minifridge and microwave, big bed and television, and a plush loveseat.

“You could stay in here,” Harry offers. “If you don’t want to… I mean we’ve been sleeping in the same bed because we have to, but we don’t have to.”

Louis is stunned silent for another moment. He gets a little defensively light-hearted. “Well, let me see your room. I need to be aware of my options.”

Harry takes him back through the living room and up a curving set of stairs. The whole top floor is the master suite. There’s a palace of a bathroom with a skylight and a Jacuzzi, and at least a king-sized bed. A whole corner of the room is devoted to music and musical equipment.  There’s a walk-in closet with two rooms, both endearingly mostly filled with band shirts and worn jeans. It’s all vaulted ceilings and soft natural light, calming blue walls covered in posters and polaroids and handwritten notes. It teeters somewhere between stately and grungy. Louis doesn’t think he’s seen a better bedroom in his life. It’s Harry, all spread up on the walls and in the bookshelves.

He doesn’t know how long he stays silent. He just knows that when Harry talks, he sounds like he might throw up from nerves. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to… to stay in here? With me?”

“What’s on the walls?”

“Um, pictures I took. Posters from shows I saw or wanted to. Notes from fans and family and stuff. Just… it was too clean,” Harry explains nervously. “If it bothers you, I can take some of it down-“

“You’ve gotta stop that,” Louis cuts him off. “Stop submitting to me. You’ve got a lovely Goddamn room and even if I didn’t like it, you should keep it exactly the same.”

“So you like it?”

“I said I did.” Louis pulls Harry down to his level and kisses him. “It’s very nice, and I’d love to sleep in here with you. I’d love to stay here forever. I feel like I’m in the room of a very posh young Mick Jagger.”

Harry giggles. “Oh.”

“Is anything off-limits?”

“No, not really,” Harry says after a second. “Look at whatever you like. And, um, I was thinking we could order in dinner? There’s some good takeaway places. And I have about a billion films we could watch.”

“Do you mind if I sleep against you on the couch an hour in or so?”

“No. But. Do you mind another night in?” Harry asks.

“Harry. Dear. Honestly, I couldn’t care less what we do, as long as we don’t have to jump apart at a knock at the door.”

Harry grins. “Me too.”

“Okay. Good.” Louis holds both of Harry’s hands and stands in front of him. “Harry,” he says solemnly. “You have a beautiful flat and a beautiful room, and I’m so glad you had me stop here.”

Harry blushes and looks down. “I just wanted you to see…”

Louis pats Harry’s hip. “See you, right? I know. Thank you. But I have to break it to you, darling. I’ve seen right through you from the start.”

He thinks he hears Harry murmur “good” but doesn’t comment on it. Louis kisses him again and says “So let’s look at your music, babe. I seem to recall you saying you like vintage bands and such, correct? Tell me things.”

Louis sits in Harry’s lap and Harry explains to him a bunch of things about rock and roll history and how it has influenced him. It’s very hard not to fall further in love with this sweet boy. Louis tries to restrain himself. He kisses Harry’s cheek a lot and holds his hand and listens to all of Harry’s favorite records – because of course he has a record player and vinyl collection. Of course Louis fell in love with someone so laughably hip.

They order in from a family-run restaurant that delivers specially to Harry. Louis has the best shepherd’s pie of his life and Harry definitely lets him eat more than his half. Then they snuggle on Harry’s huge couch and watch Chicago and Grease and it’s fun.

Despite himself, Louis falls asleep before the end of Grease, though, and feels a little guilty in his sleep. He feels Harry shift him closer when he thinks Louis is asleep. Harry drops a kiss in Louis’ hair and rubs his curled up leg, hip to knee, knee to ankle, and back again. It’s unbelievably soothing.

Louis completely relaxes for the first time in years. He kind of feels himself unwinding, like a spring being uncompressed or something. His strings are being unstrung, and he just falls deeper into this peace.

He wakes up enough to murmur, “I want to stay at your flat forever,” and curl up over Harry’s lap.

Harry fixes his arms around Louis, resting his hands in the dip of Louis’ back. “You can stay whenever you like. However long you like. I’ll give you a key.”

Louis only has the energy to make a small sound in the back of his throat. Harry kisses his cheek. “Sorry, I’ll stop talking, really,” he says, then adds, “and sorry about the really part.”

“Bed,” Louis says clearly. “Bed bed bed.”

“Okay.” Without even needing to be asked, Harry carries him, letting Louis’ head loll against his shoulder. He easily makes it up the stairs and to bed. Gently, he puts Louis down against the pillows. “Can I take your clothes off? Not in a sex way.”

Louis just grunts and holds out his arms. Harry takes off Louis’ shirt and works off his jeans. He’s very careful not to touch anything naughty. “Do you want pajamas?” he asks.

“Jumper,” Louis says, snuggling into the bed. About a minute later, Harry eases him up and slips a big jumper over Louis’ head. Louis gets his arms inside the right sleeves and hunches back down. The bed smells like Harry, the jumper smells like Harry, and Louis feels completely at home.

A minute later or so, Harry cuddles in next to him, spreading an arm over Louis’ back and fitting his nose in the crook of Louis’ neck. “I love you,” he mumbles. “G’night.”

“Night.”

Louis falls asleep quickly, but he wakes up in the middle of the night. Harry’s bedside clock says it’s 3:47. Moonlight through the skylight casts a pale glow over everything.

Harry’s draped over Louis, snoring lightly with his mouth half-open. Louis smiles and shuts Harry’s mouth. He has to struggle to get Harry’s long limbs off so he can get up. Louis wanders to the bathroom, half-heartedly thinking he might get lost on the way there. It looks almost dream-like at night, with a blue cast on the marble and tile. He doesn’t really feel appropriate peeing in here, but he does it anyways.

Then he wanders some more. Harry’s flat is beautiful, and Louis feels an echo of love for Harry’s astounding good taste. He makes it downstairs and into the kitchen. Maybe he’ll feel sleepier after a snack.

That’s how he ends up on the counter leaning against the fridge, cleaning out Harry’s supply of chocolate-covered peanuts. It’s perfect. But Louis feels a little lonely after a bit. He doesn’t know how he always manages to end up alone.

“Hey.” Harry’s in the door, completely naked and very sleepy.

Louis smiles just looking at him. “Hi, babe. What are you doing? Go back to bed, it’s like four in the morning.”

“You go back to bed.” Harry kind of stumbles his way to Louis, digging his knuckle into his eye like a little kid.

Louis watches him come with a fond smile. “Where are your clothes, silly?” he asks, pulling Harry into his arms and rubbing his warm back.

“In my room,” Harry mumbles, not understanding.

“Aww. Shush, darling, go back to bed. Why did you even wake up?”

“You weren’t there,” Harry says simply.

“I’ll be right there. I promise. You can go back to sleep,” Louis says gently. He works his fingers into Harry’s hair and wraps his arm tight around Harry’s waist. “You can go to sleep, love, I’m barely awake myself.”

Harry seems to have fallen back asleep standing up, and he starts to get goosebumps. Louis sighs and pats Harry’s back. “Alright, baby. Go to bed.”

“No.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

Louis guides Harry back up the stairs, patting his little ass on their way up the stairs. Harry’s so skinny, he seems to fit flat against Louis’ chest. Louis pushes Harry back in bed and kneels on top of him to cover him up with some of the warm blankets. Then he sits back on his heels and just looks at him, his beautiful pale skin and the purple translucence in his eye sockets. He looks a little ghostly and a lot tired.

Harry reaches out for Louis, frowning. “Come back.”

“Okay.” Louis curls up on his side facing Harry and after a moment of thought, pulls the boy towards him. Harry snuffles happily, tries to kiss Louis’ cheek but ends up kissing air. Louis closes the distance for him and pecks Harry on the lips. “Sleep,” he repeats. “See you in a few hours.” They fall back asleep together. Louis isn’t lonely.