chapter 14

It’s 196 days into the year, and the tour is over. Louis hated the time off before, but now there’s Harry, and Zayn wants to hang out. Louis is kind of excited, actually. They have a final day of things to do; flying back to London for a last press conference and an interview. Louis tags along as usual, taking notes and only texting Harry half the time.

They’re allowed to sit next to each other on the plane; some convenient finagling on Louis’ part puts Aiden near the bodyguards, so Harry can lean on Louis’ shoulder for a couple seconds while no one’s watching. “I need to talk to you,” Harry says at one point, very soft.

“Okay. Go on.”

“No. Like, talk.”

“Okay.”

“Not here, please, I mean. It’s kind of a big talk.”

“Is it a breakup talk?” Louis says, mostly teasing.

“Never.”

“Then fine. We’ll have it whenever you want.”

“Tonight? Dinner? There’s a place I love, and they have good security. Is that… would that…”

“Sure. Should I dress up?”

“Maybe just a little bit. Nothing especially fancy.” Harry squeezes Louis’ hand very briefly. “I promise it’s a good talk. At least, I hope… if you take it the way I’m wishing, it’ll be alright.”

“It’s okay. I understand what you mean.”

“I know you do.” Louis doesn’t dare meet Harry’s eyes, because he just knows how Harry’s smiling is too loving to bear. “What do you need? Do you need anything?” Harry asks after a moment.

“Nah, love. I’ve got my travel clothes on, I’m comfortable.” Louis has learned to fly and drive in warm, baggy clothes. Usually Harry’s clothes, to be honest, or clothes Harry has bought for him so Louis stops stealing Harry’s favorites.

He’s learned to be alright with Harry buying him things. Harry never does it in a pretentious or showy way. It’s always a quiet package left on Louis’ bed, or a soft murmur as he hands the gift over without any warning. He never asks for anything in return, and he never makes a big deal of it, so Louis figures he should do the same. He doesn’t ask for anything, ever, but when Harry gives him something, he keeps it. The cashmere jumper, the signed shirts from a dozen indie artists Louis had never heard of, the warm soft hats and travel pillows and iPod cases.

And it’s worth it, for how Harry’s eyes go bright when he sees Louis in things he bought for him. “I love you,” he says today. “Tell me if you need anything?”

“I will.”

When they have to navigate the airport and the accompanying horde of reporters, fans, and paparazzi, Louis wishes Harry could hold his hand. He hates these crowds, and he hates knowing that Harry must be scared. Impulsively, he whispers to Zayn, “Take care of him, please, now.”

Without hesitation, Zayn speeds up to slide an arm around Harry’s waist as they make it through the crowd. He doesn’t know why, but he can tell he needs to be comforting. Louis loves Zayn.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzes. thank you xx

imagine its me, he answer.

already am

He’s in a different car than the lads on their way to their press conference. As he’s getting in, he hears behind him, “Wait!”

Louis turns around; Harry is there, reaching for him. Louis grins and hugs him. “Hi,” he says a little curiously. “What’s up?”

Harry takes a deep breath, face in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Nothing,” he says. “I just… umm. That was just intense, I was scared. Thanks.”

“Of course, love.” Louis wants to kiss Harry, even just on the cheek, but he can hear shutters going off. Instead, he whispers, “I love you. I’ll see you there, yeah? Ask Zayn to give you a cuddle.”

“Okay. Thanks. You won’t get jealous?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay. See you there.”

“Okay.”

Louis gets a call in the car. It’s Harry. “Hello?” he answers, smiling.

“I miss you.”

“Oh my God,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“No,” Harry whines. “Comfort me.”

“We hugged literally three minutes ago.”

“Well I’d like to be hugging now, thank you very much.”

“Have Zayn-“

“He’s hugging me right now and it’s not enough.”

Louis frowns a little. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks, annoyed and concerned. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs. “I guess I’m fine. But I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“The talk I want to have. And… well, we’ve only ever done it the one way. I don’t know how to do it normal.”

Louis feels awful. “I know you don’t, love, I know. But we’ll figure it out. I’m only an hour away from you, we’ll visit each other loads and go on trips and shit. It’ll be lovely and secret. Really, sweetheart, don’t even worry. I’m right here. I’ll be right here long as you’d like.”

“Forever,” Harry mumbles.

Louis doesn’t know what to do. He ends up ignoring it. “I’ll see you at the press conference, alright? Love you so much, darling, you’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be alright, okay? We already fucked up, it won’t happen again.”

“You’ve fucked up,” Harry corrects. “I still have to make my huge fuck up. Maybe this is it.”

“Harold,” Louis begins.

“That’s not my name.”

There’s a very long pause. “Okay,” Louis says slowly. “Okay, yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Bye.”

“Bye?” Harry’s already hung up. Louis is left staring at his phone.

“Who was that?” Lou asks – the other Lou, Harry’s hairstylist. Louis travels with her a lot, as people that orbit the five boys. She knows about them, but Louis still tries not to talk about it.

“Um. Nobody,” Louis says slowly. He avoids her eyes, looking at her sleeping baby Lux instead. “She’s certainly growing quickly.”

“Is he alright?” Lou says next.

Right, because Louis definitely referred to Harry by name. Shit. “Um, he’s fine.”

“He hung up on you.”

“He… um. He’s stressed out today. He hates crowds. And he’s scared about, um, he wanted to ask me something, and he’s scared of that. But we’re fine.” Louis shrugs. He’s really not concerned about their relationship; he’s worried about Harry, though.

Lou can tell. “Go on,” she says, “take Lux into your lap. I can tell you’d like to.”

“Are you sure that’s safe? I don’t want to-“

“We’re in the safest car in Britain,” she says. “Just hold on tight to her.”

“Second-safest,” Louis says. “The lads’ is probably first.”

Lou just smiles. So Louis takes Lux out of her seat and holds her in his lap. She’s chewing on her fist, drooling a little. Louis finds that soothing; he’s used to babies. He kisses her head and hugs her. “Thanks,” he says to Lou.

“Of course. Though she’ll grow up thinking you’re her mum if I’m not careful.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Never. You’re a brilliant mum. Isn’t she?” he asks Lux, then nods her little head.

“Do not use my child as your puppet, Tommo,” Lou says sternly.

“Cutest puppet in the world.” Louis boops Lux on the nose.

“Wouldja mind holding her while I style them? She likes being with you more than her car seat,” Lou says after a moment.

“Sure, of course.”

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” she smiles. “You’re a babysitter I’ve never paid.”

“I volunteered for it,” Louis assures her. “I’ve missed this.” He’s told her vaguely about his sisters, enough to explain his handiness with little girls. “And really,” he adds, “I don’t need anyone else presenting me with gifts like a cat does a dead mouse.”

“Does he do that?” Lou laughs.

“Yeah. Against my express wishes, yeah. He’ll do it around the lads sometimes, to try to keep me from arguing. Sweet of him. But I don’t need anything from you, really.”

“Gold digger,” Lou teases him.

“Groupie,” Louis says back.

With her, it’s easy to forget about Harry’s strange panicky reaction to him, and that’s all Louis wants to do. He just wants to forget.

When Louis sees Harry next, he’s still panicky, though. Zayn’s got an arm over Harry’s shoulders and a concerned look on his face, and Harry’s just a wreck. His smile trembles on his face and his steps are unsure. Louis is impressed with Harry’s constant compassion; he stops for a few autographs and pictures with fans. Louis holds tighter to Lux and doesn’t try to catch his eye.

When they’re inside, Harry doesn’t come to find him, so Louis doesn’t push it. He sticks with Lou and Lux and follows at a distance to the dressing room. There, he stays on the couch – there’s always a couch - with Lux, playing peekaboo and trying to get her to talk back to him.

Harry nervously approaches him after a while. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hey, love,” Louis says lightly. “How you doing?”

“Okay.” Harry sits down next to him. “Um. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I was just… kinda scared, ‘cause of the crowd, and then…”

“Harry darling.” Harry stops and Louis risks squeezing his hand for just a second. “I know. Remember? I know you.” Harry doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. “What do you want to tell me?” Louis asks. “Just tell me, love, it’s driving you mad.”

“I want to ask you right,” Harry says, a little desperate.

“No. Fu-“ Louis covers Lux’s ears. “Fucking ask me right fucking now.”

“But dinner-“

“Harry, you’re going to worry yourself into an ulcer. Just say it. I won’t answer you right now, we don’t have to talk about it. Just ask.”

“Louis-“

“Harry.”

“Will you move in with me?” Harry bursts out. He didn’t mean to, it’s clear. “That’s what I want to ask,” he adds softly after a moment. “Wanted. Or.”

Louis can’t answer. His chest is suddenly so full and warm. He hugs Lux closer, trying so hard not to smile into her tiny shoulder. Finally, he manages to squeak out, “Oh.”

“And I know it’s only been four months and ten days, and I hope I don’t sound like a serial killer for knowing the days, but I really don’t want to be apart from you. I want my flat to be yours or yours to be mine. Either. And I’ll do whatever you need to hide it, but I want to be in this together. Like, together. That’s what I wanted to ask.”

Damn Harry and his sweet over-explaining. Louis wants to kiss him so incredibly bad. He wants to kiss every inch of him for even asking. He looks at him and sees how tired he looks, so tired his makeup can’t change it. He must have been stressing about this for so long. Louis sits Lux between his legs and reaches both hands for Harry. Harry folds into the hug, exhausted and soft. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I just want to be near you.”

“I’m not mad at you. I love you,” Louis promises quietly. “I do. Let me talk, okay? Before you start freaking out.”

“Okay.”

Louis takes a deep breath. “We obviously need to talk about it later, but my first reaction isn’t a no. You don’t sound like a serial killer. I think it is rather fast, but maybe fast is okay with us. I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know. But I love all of you and all the things that made you ask me this. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

Harry lets out all his breath.

“Do you feel better about that?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, looking at Louis with absolute adoration. “Thank you so much. You’re fantastic and brilliant.”

“I love you so much,” Louis says near Harry’s ear. “I adore you. You’re gorgeous and so talented and we’ll talk after your press conference, alright? I love you.”

Harry takes several deep breaths. “Okay. I love you too.”

“I know you do, love.”

“I really hated the crowd today.”

“Me too, angel. I’ll find you after the press, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Thank you, you’re wonderful.”

They have to separate, but Harry texts Louis before he goes out in front of the cameras. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my life

stop it don’t make me cry like this

Harry texts him back a prawn. Louis sends him fifty.

Harry’s smiling by the time he’s on stage; Louis watches from another room with all the PR people and Lou. He keeps his eye on the tiny pixilated version of his boyfriend the whole time, to make sure he’s alright. Louis’ constant worrying has turned into something positive with him somehow; he loves to fuss and Harry loves being fussed over.

Really, all of their dysfunction has turned into something good in their relationship. Louis’ need for control is matched by Harry’s love of being taken care of. When Louis wants to be taken care of, Harry delights in the role change. It’s more perfect than he could imagine fitting with any boy, and that’s one single example. Louis doesn’t know what he’s waiting for; he’s got everything he could want, right here and desperate to commit. What is he waiting for?

He waits for Harry off-stage. Harry runs into his arms, holding him almost as tight as Louis is holding him. “Yes,” Louis says after they separate.

“What?” Harry didn’t hear him.

“Yes. I’m saying yes. I’ve decided.”

“But management-“

“I don’t give a fuck. We can work it out.” Louis leans closer and says softly “But I want to work it out sleeping in the same bed as you every night. I want to live with you, baby, I do.”

Harry hides his face and pulls Louis off his feet to hold him closer. “Oh my God.”

“So who’s pregnant,” Aiden comments.

They both ignore him. “When can you move in?” Harry asks softly. “Today? Now? Or…”

“Well. I think if we’re gonna share it, then I’ll need a little more time than that. You said it’d be ours, right? Not just yours. Does that mean, like. Would you give me half the space for my stuff?”

“Yes,” Harry says immediately.

“What about the wall space?”

“Oh… yeah, I could take down that stuff for you to put stuff up. Or all of my stuff if you don’t like it. I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

“Could we keep my flat, too?”

“Yeah, to go there sometimes?”

“Right, exactly.”

“Sure, okay. Yeah, that sounds good. You could have one of the rooms for your clothes, in the closet. And I’ll fill my cabinets with whatever you want to eat. We can paint the walls, or change the bedding or whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Okay. Then we can work on this. I love you.”

“Love you so much.”

“Go to your interview,” Louis says after a last deep sniff of Harry’s hair. “I’ll see you after, yeah?”

“Come with me.” Harry won’t let go.

“They’re going to get suspicious; we have to be apart sometimes, love. I’ll be there after, though. Get us a car, and we can spend our first night together at our place, alright?”

Harry grins so big at that. “Okay. I really want to kiss you.”

“Me too. We’ll just have to survive without until tonight.”

“Tonight,” Harry breathes, so excited. “Oh my God.”

“Okay, me too! Shh, me too. Tonight.” Harry’s got a huge smile on his face, and Louis is matching it. “Tonight,” he promises.

They move in together on day 198.

Harry takes down all of his posters and pictures and mail and then he and Louis put it all up again; together this time, with odds and ends from Louis’ flat, too. Harry is willing to get a second desk for Louis but Louis turns him down; he’d never use it. Instead, he asks for – and receives – a comfy loveseat. They put on new sheets that Louis picks out – and perhaps they’re Egyptian cotton that Harry buys for him, but he picked them, so their room feels his.

His clothes barely fill a quarter of his half of the closet. He pouts until Harry grins and hugs him and promises to go shopping together until it’s full. His bathroom products are quadruple what Harry has, though, so he feels it all evens out. Harry never complains if Louis’ things spill onto his side of the sink or tub. They just mesh.

Louis’ flat becomes a hidden secret base for them. Louis can’t leave Harry’s flat without a Paul doing a sweep for paparazzi, so it’s a lot easier to just hide out in places nobody ever knows to look. So Louis’ flat, and Harry’s mum’s house, and beach houses. Zayn and Perrie come with them on a getaway vacation to France. They stay in separate houses, but spend the days together because Louis knows how much Harry wants to go on double dates like a normal couple.

They talk a lot. It doesn’t really matter how much time they spent together on tour; most of it was sleeping or cuddling, trying to make the most of the time they had. They already knew they fit. But as they talk, final pieces are clicking into place.  

Louis tells him more about his mum, about how much he loved her and she him. He talks about their last days together and their best days together. He tells Harry about friends Lottie scared away and friends who left all on their own. He ends up talking about most of his other relationships, too, just for the sake of honesty. Harry doesn’t like that; he always gets pouty and defensive. Louis can always truthfully confirm to him that Harry’s the best and most loved, no contest.

Harry opens up, too. Louis didn’t know how much he was hiding until Harry shows him, but Harry’s got as much darkness as the next person. Teenage insecurities that he hasn’t been able to leave behind, self-image issues that come with being constantly in the public eye, phobias and nightmares and insecurity. Louis loves knowing; anything possible to better comfort his darling. Harry’s so relieved when Louis takes it all well.

After a while, there’s no filter when it’s just the two of them. They don’t need a lot of words for most things, not when they can practically read each others’ minds. But it’s nice not to think about what to say.

It’s not like they’re perfect. Louis deplores of Harry’s fondness for tea that’s more than half milk, and Harry can’t really handle how Louis snaps at him sometimes. They fight sometimes, cry sometimes, avoid each other for a few days only to call and beg each other to make up.

They have make-up sex and ‘I love you’ sex and lazy morning sex, and sometimes they’re too sleepy so they don’t. Sometimes all they want is to lie together, curled up in the arms of the person that knows them best in the world and loves them most. So they do that.

They can’t come out. Public outings still must appear platonic. Louis finds it surprisingly hard to keep his hands off of Harry, off his beautiful, sensitive boyfriend. There are a few pictures of Louis with his chin hooked over Harry’s shoulder, Louis with his arm around Harry’s waist.

Harry gets in trouble for it; they fill his schedule so Louis doesn’t see him for a couple days. When he does, Harry’s exhausted, so worn out and just used up that Louis hardly knows what to do. He gets Harry in a bath and then has to get him almost immediately back out when Harry’s dozing threatens to drown him. He tries to put Harry to bed and is pulled in himself with Harry’s gangly octopus arms. For hours, he lies with Harry and kisses him, taps out beats on his all-too-visible ribs, rearranges his hair. Harry’s dead to the world. And Louis has to allow some times to be furious at the people who did this to Harry, who have taken advantage of him like this with so little regard for him.

Louis eventually drifts off himself. He wakes up before Harry and finally struggles out of his arms to make himself something to eat. In minutes, Harry’s downstairs too, sleepy and still tired but smiling at Louis. He doesn’t want anything to eat; he just wants to sit next to Louis and sleep on the table. When Louis’ done eating, he takes Harry to the couch, head in Louis’ lap, and lets him sleep more. Harry sleeps a total of fifteen hours, and he still has lavender circles underneath his eyes. So Louis controls himself more in public.

He’s still dating Aiden; choice in the matter. He hates it so much, that he can be seen with someone he despises so thoroughly but can’t even hint at loving his sweet Harry. And he hates how Harry’s so shattered by it; if they have to hold hands, Louis knows he’ll find Harry gloomy and clingy at home. If they have to kiss, Harry will be crying and pretending not to. And if they make Louis tweet about loving the twat, Harry will be inconsolable for days.

They make it work. Harry trusts him implicitly, and Louis trusts him right back. They don’t like seeing each other with other people, but their jealousy never has any basis in reality, and they know that. They’re both always eager to make it up to the other, whatever happens, and that manages to be enough. They’re enough for each other.

The days tick by. New posts come out, some by Louis, some not. Harry has events to attend; movie premiers, award ceremonies, honors and accolades, signs of his skyrocketing career. Louis is so proud, and so grateful he gets to even attend them, but he aches inside to be there as Harry’s date, as the face on his arm that everyone envies. He actually doesn’t care, though, what anyone else thinks. He just wants to be able to kiss him and be proud. He wants everyone to know how beautiful Harry is when he’s in love with Louis.

But he knows Harry aches too. He knows he wants so badly to show everyone how happy he is, how taken and unavailable. The best they can do is a few love bites. For five months, they’re perfect but secret. All Louis can think about is finally being able to be seen together. Harry can hardly talk about anything else.  And that’s love, isn’t it, to survive this and only want more.

It is love. It’s true and complete love. Louis doesn’t quite know what he’s doing sometimes, with absolute love. He doesn’t know how he found it or kept it or what to do with this knowledge that Harry will never, ever leave him. He can’t breathe sometimes, he loves him so deeply back. That’s love. That’s security.

Harry won’t leave him. Louis won’t leave either. It’s making forever sound a lot more reasonable.