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Louis lays amongst the soft material of Harry’s oversized hotel bed. He contemplates the idea of never leaving it’s warmth and luxury, but inevitably all good things come to an end. Harry stirs beside him just moments before a loud noise blasts from the other side of the room, filling the silence that Louis had been reveling in, and breaking the domesticated spell.
“Nnngghh.” Harry stretches and moans, throwing one arm and leg over Louis for a moment before he sighs heavily and gets up to find the offending object making all the noise. Once he does he throws himself dramatically back into bed.
Louis curls into his side, craving the warmth of Harry’s body. Harry smiles with his eyes still closed and hums low in his throat. “You probably have to get up,” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear. Harry’s smile turns to a tiny scowl as he turns to crack an eye at Louis.
“You’re probably right,” Harry replies.
“I’m always right,” Louis says before he can catch himself. He clamps his mouth shut so that no more sass can come out. The morning light makes everything feel too real for sass.
“Beauty and brains.” Harry smirks at him. “How lucky am I?” He rolls out of bed again, this time reaching for a pair of sweats that were folded on the chair closest to the bed. Putting them on doesn’t make Harry look any less obscene. Harry turns back around and studies Louis’ face for a moment, desire written all over it. “We don’t have time for that,” he says as though he can read Louis’ thoughts.
“So…” Louis says, trying to both avoid staring directly at Harry’s dick print in those damned sweats and discreetly look for where his underwear had been flung the night before. “How do you usually do this?”
“Do what?” Harry asks as he casually tosses the few personal items he has in the room into his very expensive looking bag.
“Date? Date while on tour specifically?” Louis tries to sound confident, blasé even. Like he dates rock stars who tour all the time. He definitely misses the mark.
“I don’t.” Harry has stopped puttering around, and watches Louis. Louis just raises an eyebrow at him, confused. “Not while I’m on tour anyway.”
“Why not?” Louis asks, not knowing if he really wants to know the answer. Best to get the messy stuff out of the way now though.
“It’s inconvenient. It’s no fun. Someone always gets hurt—usually that someone is them. I don’t really want that on my conscience.” Harry shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but he comes back to the bed and sits facing Louis. He pulls Louis’ hand into his lap, squeezes it, and brings it up to his lips to kiss it softly. Louis lets him.
“Then why are you working so hard to convince me that this is a good idea?” Louis asks.
“Because have you met you?” Harry replies, incredulous. “I can’t sit around until my tour is done in November in hopes that you might still be here, single, available. I can’t risk that.”
“Oh.” Louis pauses, dumbfounded. Harry says it so easily, so effortlessly. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Louis has a hard time processing it. “Well, good thing you made your move then.” He fake laughs. “Because I definitely won’t be here in November.”
“Good thing—wait.” Harry stops administering kitten kisses all over Louis’ fingers. “Where will you be in November?”
“I’m moving to New York in November, for my job.” He feels a dip in his gut. It feels like this is an important conversation to have with a boyfriend, not someone you’ve met forty-eight hours ago and slept with twice…three times.
“Oh.” Harry pauses this time. “Huh.” He smiles, causing Louis to involuntarily smile as well.
“What?” he asks, feeling like he’s not in on a joke.
“Our tour wraps up in New York.” Harry looks deep in contemplation. “Feels like fate.”
“Fate is it?” Louis muses. “Do you believe in fate?”
“I met you didn’t I?” Harry says.
“That’s not an answer.” Louis laughs but Harry just shrugs and leans towards him, kissing him and lowering him back down onto the bed. Louis does nothing to stop him. He’s powerless to the man.
A loud pounding at the door almost jolts Louis off the bed.
“Get up you lazy arsehole!” a thick Irish brogue booms from the hallway.
Harry groans again, cursing under his breath as the second barrage of door banging begins. “Shut up, Niall!” Harry yells back. “That’s Niall,” Harry says more quietly to Louis.
“Yeah I gathered.” Louis smirks at him. Harry rolls his eyes, but kisses Louis once more.
“The bus is literally idling in the car park! Put your dick away and get out of the room!” Niall yells again.
Harry runs to the door and opens it, shushing Niall. “We’re in public you know,” Harry hisses.
“Got you to open the door didn’t I?” Niall smiles triumphantly before his attention turns to Louis who is still sitting very naked in the large bed. “Well hello.” Niall slips past Harry’s arm barrier and comes straight for Louis. “Niall Horan.” Niall sticks his hand out for Louis to shake. Louis does, but feels ridiculous hiding under the covers. He wishes he worked harder to find his pants.
“Louis Tomlinson,” Louis says, a little weak. He knows that Harry is famous, and of course he was starstruck when he met him, but now he’s just Harry. It never occured to Louis that he would feel this way every time he meets a famous person, including the rest of Harry’s band. Niall is a legend.
“Oh, I know who you are.” Niall smiles and gives a wink when Harry hisses Niall’s name in warning again.
“Be nice,” Harry says behind them as he puts a bit more effort into packing. He discreetly places Louis’ underpants under Louis’ pillow.
“I’ve heard all about the famous Louis Tomlinson. I’ve been subjected to at least ten badly written love songs about you. From your eyelashes to your laugh to the way your ass jiggles when you—”
“Niall! I said be nice!” Harry throws something at Niall’s head.
“I am being nice!” Niall counters.
“I mean to me.” Harry pouts.
“Fat chance.” Niall smirks. “Now let’s go please.” He tosses an apple from the complimentary fruit basket into the air and catches it before he takes a big bite. “Nice to meet you Louis, hope to see you again.”
“Yeah, uh, same,” Louis says, pulling his clothes on under the blankets. Niall is out the door as dramatically as he entered, singing a tune at the top of his lungs that Louis doesn’t recognise. Louis does catch the words ass and ripples like waves and blushes right down to his belly button.
Harry at least has the good sense to look ashamed when Louis meets him at the door. “I have to go,” Harry says. It feels sadder than Louis thought it would, thinks it should.
“Go. Don’t be late because of me.” Louis pushes him lightly out the door. Harry holds fast.
“I want to do a lot of bad things because of you,” he says.
“We aren’t Bonnie and Clyde. Don’t get excited.” Louis laughs but feels the familiar desire deep in his gut that’s always present around Harry. “Now go. Have fun, be safe. All those mum things that people say.” He knows he’s trying to play it cool. He knows he’s bad at it.
“Lou.” Harry pauses, looking Louis in the eye. “It’s only Manchester.”
Louis sighs and bows his head. “I know, I’m being stupid.”
“I love that you’re being stupid over me. I want you to miss me. But I’m going to text you every hour, and I am going to set up the most perfect date that you can even imagine and all you have to do is show up. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“I met you two days ago,” Louis yells mostly to whatever force has possessed him.
“Best two days of my life.” Harry kisses him once more. It feels like a promise. It feels like hope.
Then, he’s gone, and Louis is alone in a hotel room and everything goes a little gray.
Of course the first thing that Harry wants to do as soon as they are both alone is skype.
“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, his voice overly seductive.
“You can clearly see what I’m wearing,” Louis replies, causing them both to laugh.
“Seriously though, I’m coming to London tomorrow before we head to Ireland.” Harry smiles.
“Why?” Louis asks. Seems a bit out of the way to go from where Harry is currently, in Liverpool.
“Our epic date of course.” Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ve been planning it for months.”
“Days.” Louis corrects him.
“Details.”
“So you’re travelling all the way back to London just to see me,” Louis reiterates. He knows that it’s the truth. Harry is a painfully honest person.
“The best reason to travel to London.” Harry smiles sweetly at him. “So are you free?”
“Of course I’m free. For you of course.” Louis finds himself smiling like an idiot. He tries to school it, but he can’t.
“Good. So I can pick you up at eight?
“You sure can. I’ll text you the address.” Louis keeps nodding, why does he keep nodding?
“Good.” Harry is nodding too. And now there’s silence.
“Good.” Louis parrots Harry. They both laugh nervously.
“It’s a date.” Harry is the one who says it.
“That it is,” Louis replies.
“So seriously, why so many clothes?” Harry breaks the tension and they both laugh easily.
“Goodnight H.” Louis says before he closes out of skype.
Good night Lou Harry texts him almost immediately afterwards.
A date. Why does the prospect scare him so much?
True to his word, Harry never lets Louis’ phone rest for too long. They text almost constantly through the day, and even sends him some pics and videos. Louis can’t get enough of it.
By eight o’clock the next evening, Louis is certifiably nervous. He checks his image in the mirror, watching his reflection stare back with concern etched deep in the lines of his forehead. It’s Harry. Harry has seen him naked. Harry has seen him in some compromising positions whilst naked. Harry doesn’t care what shade of red his shirt is.
“It’s just Harry.” He tells his mirror self out loud. Mirror self doesn’t look convinced.
He can’t pretend that he doesn’t hear the bell for the door. The flat isn’t big. But he stays rooted in place anyway as Zayn lets Harry up. He’s in the same position when Zayn peeks his head into the bathroom.
“Your…date is here.” Zayn says, . It occurs to Louis in that moment that Zayn hadn’t actually met Harry face to face yet. He feels horrible that he forced Zayn into greeting Harry alone.
“Sorry Z, I’m just…” He can’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t know what he is.
“As nervous as the guy pacing our kitchen?” Zayn smiles softly into Louis’ mirror.
“Harry?” Louis asks.
“I think I would recognise Harry Styles, Lou. Yes, Harry.” Zayn pushes him a little, but smiles anyway. “First dates are always weird. No matter what the circumstance.”
Louis just nods. Zayn always knows just what to say. He finally finds the courage to leave the bathroom when he sees Harry standing in the living room. His body is turned away from Louis, but Louis can see that he’s holding a picture frame. Pictures of Louis’ family to be exact.
Louis makes a little noise to let Harry know that he’s being watched.
Harry turns abruptly, letting the frame slip from his hands. It smashes into tiny little pieces all over the floor making the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.
“Shit!” Harry yelps. His hands automatically go towards the broken frame before realising his mistake and pulling them away, narrowly avoiding sliced fingers. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” His eyes search frantically. “I can clean this up, God I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Harry, it’s fine.” Louis comes closer, careful to avoid any shards, and takes Harry’s hands that seem to be flailing around aimlessly.
“I can buy you an new one. I’m sorry,” Harry repeats.
“Harry, that frame cost less than five pounds. I don’t need you to replace it. Just go sit down and let me sweep it up.”
“I’m such an idiot.” Harry sighs, carefully removing himself from his crime scene.
“You’re not an idiot, accidents happen.” Louis soothes him.
Harry finally removes his focus from the frame and directs it at Louis. “You’re very beautiful.”
The comment throws Louis off. “Thanks.” He chuckles, but stares back at Harry longingly. It feels like more than a few days since they have seen each other. Louis wants to study him.
“Um,” comes a sound behind them. “If you are going to be late, I can clean this up.” Zayn’s holding the broom, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. His eyes are pleading for Louis to get the hell out of his space, so Louis takes the hint.
“Could you Z? That would be so kind.” Louis starts pulling Harry out the door before Harry can protest. “Isn’t that nice of Zayn, Harry?” Zayn just gives them a small wave as Louis pulls his shoes on. Harry waves back silently.
The car ride is mostly silent. It’s not something that he is used to with Harry, but try as he might, he has no idea what he wants to say. There seems to be this strange divide in his brain where he can only think of dirty things or the weather.
“Chilly out tonight,” Harry says, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.
“Especially for May,” Louis replies. He feels like a complete fool.
They pull up to a very posh looking building. The front is well lit, and a valet takes Harry’s car as soon as they step out. Harry ushers them into the restaurant and they’re immediately seated, and given wine and a menu. When they are left to the illusion of privacy once more, Louis looks at Harry who is looking back at him.
“Wow,” Louis says. He tries to make it sound more impressed than he feels. This place scares the shit out of him.
“Like it?” Harry asks, sounding the least Harry like that Louis has ever heard.
“I like that you went to all this trouble just for me,” Louis says, trying to be delicate. Everything feels like it’s hanging on a thin wire.
“It’s the best restaurant in all of London,” Harry boasts.
“So you’ve been here before?” Louis asks, hoping to start a conversation.
“No actually, my assistant recommended it.”
Louis wants to mock him for having an assistant. He doesn’t know why he can’t.
“Oh,” he says instead. “What’s your favourite restaurant?”
“I like something with a bit of heat. I like a good curry.” Harry peers over his menu. Even with the blatant awkward tension that surrounds them Louis can still appreciate the glint of something mischievous in Harry’s eyes.
“Something that can make your eyes water a bit?” Louis asks.
“Something I’m going to feel long after the meal is over.” Harry continues, catching onto Louis’ innuendos. Louis smiles, glad to see cheeky Harry alive and well.
“There you are.” Louis smiles at him. Harry frowns for a second and sighs.
“I was trying to be a proper date,” he says, putting his menu down so that he can focus. “I wanted you to know that I don’t just like you for your looks. I don’t just want you for one thing.”
“Harry.” Louis frowns. “The part of you that I like the most is how open and honest you are. Even with your attraction to me, to all of me. I just want you to be you.” Louis puts his hand out on the table and Harry takes it immediately. The physical connection calms Louis’ nerves, and seems to help Harry as well. “I was nervous for tonight as well.”
“Were you?” Harry practically scoffs at the idea.
“I felt like it was something more. Something that we’ve never done before. But in the end, I’m just me, and you’re just you. And I think that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Harry grins wide, and squeezes Louis hand.
“Want to get out of here?” Louis is already practically standing when he asks. Harry stands as well, almost running out of the dim lights of the restaurant.
They end up taking a late night walk. Louis wishes that he had dressed more for the occasion, but Harry keeps him laughing, and they talk for almost two hours before their feet start to hurt, and Harry’s yawns start to come in five to ten minute intervals. They walk back to the restaurant where Harry’s car is still parked and Harry drives him home.
“Really? Home?” Louis pouts at his still fully clothed date.
“No sex on a first date,” Harry replies primly.
“I don’t even know when I’ll see you again,” Louis wails dramatically but feels like he might actually cry. Harry really does look hot tonight. He’s squeezed into a skin-tight pair of black skinny jeans and a black and white floral shirt that shifts and clings to every hard line of his torso. Louis summons every ounce of willpower to not lick him.
“Soon, Lou. I don’t want to ruin this feeling.” Harry leans into Louis, breathing him in, and Louis rests his head on Harry’s chest. God, he smells good too.
“What feeling is this?” Louis asks, still grumpy at being cock blocked by the very cock he wants.
“Feels like more,” Harry mumbles into the top of Louis’ head. “Feels like I get to have you.”
Louis looks up at Harry’s face. Harry is smiling serenely back. “You have me.”