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The sounds of Louis’ wake up music drifted down to the kitchen, and Harry reached across the bar and flicked the kettle on with his free hand almost automatically, not bothering to look up from his Words with Friends game. The kettle clicked off a moment later and Harry set his phone aside, pulling the tea down from the shelf and making a fresh cup for Louis. He let it brew as he pulled out ingredients for a scramble–eggs, broccoli, and feta–all the while listening for Louis’ steps in the hallway.
Louis’ music turned off and Harry heard him emerge from the bedroom. Waited for him to say something.
“Morning, baby,” Louis said, shuffling into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, pressing his bare chest against Harry’s back and staying there for a moment. “Breakfast?”
“Morning, Lou. Yeah. Healthy breakfast,” Harry said through a smile. He turned the pan to low and turned around to kiss Louis a proper good morning, long and warm and open, yet totally unhurried. “And tea,” he said, punctuating the addition with another, shorter kiss.
Louis smiled back at him. “You’re part of a healthy breakfast, I’ve heard,” he said, eyes full of mischief. He bit at Harry’s bare shoulder playfully. “And great with a morning cuppa.”
Harry laughed, swatting back at Louis. “You’re gonna make me burn it, love,” he said, taking the eggs off the heat and giving them a quick fluff in the pan. “Anyway, we have all day, yeah? What’ve you got on?"
“Mm, nothing but me pants, baby, didn’t you notice?” Louis said. He was in full play mode and wouldn’t get out of it until Harry indulged him. So he did.
“You know, I don’t know if I did. Let me just–” he let his hands wander down Louis’ body, over the curve of his arse and back up, snapping the waistband of his pants. “Yes, yes, sorry, babe. Apparently I’m pants at noticing that sort of thing.” Harry giggled at his pun even as Louis groaned into his chest.
“Harold,” Louis said, his voice full of mock-scolding. “What did we say about puns before breakfast?”
“Not allowed,” Harry pouted. “Eat, then. I could come up with more before your tea’s gone.”
Louis pulled him close and kissed him, suddenly stricken by how terribly fond he was of Harry. “Alright, baby. I’ll eat and then you’re allowed a couple more puns, but that’s it for the day until after dinner.” He reached behind Harry and grabbed the plates that Harry had pulled down, hip checking him to get a better spot for dishing up food. “And the things start tomorrow. Gotta get papped around 10 or 11 in the morning, can’t remember which. Then there’s some media things, I think they had a snapchat story in mind…” he trailed off, turning to see Harry looking down dejectedly.
“But that means today is just us, if you’ve not got anything on either?” Louis said, waiting for Harry to pick up his cue.
Harry smiled, taking his plate of eggs out of Louis’ hands. “I think that could be arranged, Mr. Tomlinson,” He pulled his joggers down and kicked them aside, grinning, and the two of them ate breakfast in their pants in the bright warmth of the LA morning. If they stayed in that spot for the rest of the day, there was nobody around to notice or care.