Work Text:
Harry has just finished tying up his converse when the loud blare of a horn cuts through from outside. Late as always. He grabs his messenger bag from where it’s resting against his desk and slings it over his shoulder, darting down the stairs.
“Bye mum!” Harry calls as he yanks his coat off the hook and pulls open the front door. He jumps down the steps and slides into the old, red car that’s sitting just outside, slightly out of breath, but with a wide smile still plastered across his face. “Hey, Lou!”
“Morning, Haz,” Louis says around a yawn. “Ready for another day in hell?”
“Isn’t it a bit too cold for hell?”
“Aren’t you a bit too chipper for eight am?”
Harry bites his lip around a giggle, but he’s sure that if Louis were to glance over, he’d still see Harry’s dimples full and blooming. Louis always says that Harry’s dimples are his favourite, always incessantly poking him in the cheek. Not that Harry really minds of course.
“Have you finished your history project yet?” Louis’ voice drags Harry back into the present.
“Hmm? I mean almost.” He can feel a bit of heat rising to his cheeks.
“Should’ve known,” Louis teases, but Harry can still hear the fondness that softens the edges of his words.
“I bet you haven’t even started yours.”
“Why would I do that when I know I can just woo you into helping me?”
Harry rolls his eyes at the smirk that tugs at the corners of Louis’ lips as the car pulls into a parking spot. He watches as Louis reaches into the backseat and grans his rucksack before clambering out of the car. He pulls his coat a bit tighter around himself at the crisp winter morning air as Louis emerges from the car and joins his side.
“You know it will take some hard-core wooing to earn my help,” Harry picks back up their conversation as both boys venture into the school.
“How about I treat you to a movie tonight? Does that count?”
“Only if you buy me popcorn and sweets too.”
“Such a hard man to please, Styles!” Louis gives Harry a playful shove, and, despite almost stumbling into another student, Harry can’t help but laugh. It’s even better when Louis’ smile widens, and Harry has to try and keep a blush from cascading across his cheeks. He regains his balance and thinks of a way to get Louis back. But before the snarky retort can leave the tip of his tongue, the loud sound of the bell is ringing through the halls.
“See you in chemistry later, Haz!” Louis calls as he runs down the corridor towards the auditorium. Harry allows himself one last lingering look and wave before he rushes off to his maths class.
Maths is as boring as ever, and Harry spends most of the time doodling in the margin of his notebook instead of listening to Mr Reynolds droll on about parabolas and equations. English class drags on just as bad. Harry just doesn’t understand why he should care about some guy who turned into a cockroach or how the story reflects philosophical views of the time. All he cares about at the moment is the clock ticking down to third period. Only ten more minutes until chemistry. Only ten more minutes until he can see Louis again.
Jesus, I sound like a schoolgirl with a crush. Get it together, Styles!
Finally, the bell rings, startling Harry out of his thoughts. He is quick to stuff his books back into his messenger bag before heading towards the science classrooms. When he gets there, Louis is already in his seat laughing at something Zayn said. Harry slides into the seat beside the blue-eyed boy, and his eyes track the movement of Louis laughing: the way his head is thrown back and his teeth are bared as that beautiful sound pours out, the way his eyes are squeezed almost shut with tears of joy dotting the corners.
He’s so beautiful.
“Hey, Hazza,” Louis says when his laughter has died down to just quiet chuckles.
“Hi,” Harry replies, his voice sounding more breathless than he’d like. He clears his throat before continuing. “What was so funny?”
“Oh, Zayn was just telling me a joke.”
“Because mine are actually funny,” Zayn teases. “Better watch out Harry; I might take over your best friend status.”
“Yeah right! You can’t compete with these curls, Zaynie,” Louis says, ruffling Harry’s hair for emphasis. Harry pushes into the touch with a smile on his face, and Louis leaves his hand there, carding his fingers through the mess.
“You both are disgusting,” Zayn comments, rolling his eyes and uncapping his pen to take notes as Mrs Michaels begins speaking to the class.
They end up doing a lab, and Harry tries not to be annoyed when Louis gets paired with Zayn, while he’s paired with Perrie. He’s got nothing against Perrie; she’s lovely, and she and Zayn seem to have this weird mating ritual going on whenever he has a party at his house. Still, she’s not Louis, and Louis isn’t laughing with Harry as he messes around with the Bunsen burner.
“Harry! Oh my god! Be careful!”
Harry jolts when he feels dainty hands on his wrists. He snaps his head to Perrie to see her pulling his hand away from the fire, her eyes wide.
“Whoops?” Harry says, offering a sheepish shrug.
Harry watches Perrie glance back behind his shoulder before she looks back at him, her eyes soft. “Oh honey,” she says, giving a gentle pat to his hair before turning back to the assignment.
Harry bows his heads and scribbles the different reaction colours of the flame onto his lab sheet, hoping his curls hide the blush that’s creeping up his neck to settle in his cheeks. He ignores the cheers that come from his right for the rest of the class.
Once the bell rings, Harry heads down to the canteen, Louis and Zayn bickering behind him. He grabs his lunch and sits down at their usual table. It isn’t long before Louis plops into the seat beside him, already chomping on some crisps.
“So about this movie wooing,” Louis starts, offering Harry some crisps. “I checked the times, and I was thinking that after my practice, we can grab some takeaway and then go?”
“Yeah, sure, Lou.”
“Great! Then it’s a plan!”
Louis smiles before nabbing a chip off Harry’s tray and turning to discuss something or other with Niall. Harry tries to hide his own wide smile behind his lunch. It’s a date.
---
Harry always loves watching Louis play football. Sure, today is only a scrimmage match within the team, but he still loves it. It’s why he opts to sit on the ice cold bleachers under the pale grey sky instead of seeking safety in the library like Louis suggested. He just really loves watching the way Louis runs back and forth across the pitch. The way his hair blows every which way in the wind so that Louis has started wearing a headband because he refuses to cut it. The way he purses his lips and furrows his brow in concentration. The way his feet dance across the grass as he makes plays with the ball. The way his thighs bulge and tremble as he sprints to catch an opposing player. The way he shouts advice to the other players. The way his voice rings out somewhere between laughter and cheering when his team scores.
The way he looks right fit in that football kit, captain armband and all.
The thought alone has Harry blushing, and he's really glad Louis can't see him up in the bleachers.
Sometimes, Harry thinks that Louis’ secretly a nebula. A cloud of energy left after a supernova explosion that’s both enrapturing and beautiful. All glitter and bright colours. Harry’s sure that one day, just like a nebula, Louis will become a star. He just hopes that Louis will keep shining in his sky.
Harry’s eyes track Louis’ movement across the pitch towards the bench to grab water. He smiles and pats the different players on the backs. Then his eyes land on Harry shivering up in the stands, and from where he’s sitting, Harry swears he sees Louis’ smile widen. It makes something jolt somewhere in Harry’s chest cavity and he offers a small wave to Louis. Louis gives a big wave before tugging in an over-exaggerated manner on his shirt and gesturing wildly over his shoulder. Harry raises a curious eyebrow before understanding and showing Louis a thumbs up with a fond eye roll. Louis follows the team back inside and to the locker room and Harry pulls his collar on his jacket up just a little bit more while he waits in the cold.
By the time the first parts of the team begin trickling back out, flurries have begun spinning down from the cloud above. Harry watches a few twirl past his face before landing on his jeans. He sticks his tongue out to try and catch some, but they all seem to dance just outside of his reach. Feels a bit like a metaphor for his life these days.
Harry startles when there’s a warm body pressing against his side and a sigh being breathed into his ear. He looks down to see a tired and glistening Louis beside him. He’s got his head on Harry’s shoulder and his eyes closed. From here, Harry can count every single eyelash that flutters against his cheekbones, every pale freckle dusting across his nose and cheeks.
“Please don’t hate me,” Louis whispers.
“I could never, Lou.”
“It’s just—I have to cancel our movie date.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, but Mum called while I was in the locker room and apparently Lottie and Fizzy have some school event thingy in Leeds that they have to go to, so she needs me to watch the twins.”
“It’s okay, Lou. Honest.”
“I just feel bad is all…” Louis sits up suddenly. “I know! We can do a movie at mine! We’ll just put the twins to sleep and bam! I know it’s not quite the same, but I’ll make you microwave popcorn and everything.”
“You had me at movie at mine, you know?”
“Yeah? Well then let’s go Hazza!” Louis jumps up and begins tugging on Harry’s arm until Harry gives in and allows himself to be pulled all the way to Louis’ car. The car park is almost completely deserted when they get there, and the snow has begun coming down a little harder. There’s a soft blanket of white hiding the dark asphalt beneath. Louis and Harry both throw their bags into the backseat before sliding into the car, and Louis drives them both back to his house.
When the boys walk inside the house, Louis’ mum and two oldest sisters are already getting ready to leave, tucking jackets and scarves around themselves.
“Louis, finally. I was—oh hello Harry,” Jay says, stepping forward to pull Harry into a warm embrace.
“I thought he could help me wrangle the little monsters,” Louis offers as Harry hugs her back.
“Oh honestly, Lou,” Jay chastises but even Harry can hear the love in her voice as she plants a kiss on her son’s cheek. “Your sisters and I should be back later tonight. Just make the twins macaroni for dinner and make sure they’re in bed by eight, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, mum! I got it!”
“Just making sure everything will be alright, boobear.”
Louis groans at the nickname while Harry tries to stifle a giggle. “How many times have I watched the twins? Plus Harry’s here too! It’ll be fine.”
“Alright then. Come on girls,” Jay says grabbing her car keys and opening the front door.
“Bye, Harry,” Lottie says with a smile and a shy wave before she, Fizzy, and Jay leave.
“Oh god, she is not subtle,” Louis sighs once the door closes.
“What?” Harry asks confused as he and Louis kick off their shoes and venture further into the house.
“Seriously? How have you not noticed her obvious crush on you?” Louis’ laugh is incredulous.
“Oh…”
“It’s too bad for her though ‘cause I saw you first.”
“What do you mean?” Harry prays the hopeful tone in his voice isn’t too obvious.
“Because best friends can’t date sisters! It’s the bro-code.”
“Oh right yeah. How could I forget?”
Harry’s happy that Louis doesn’t have a chance to question the drop in his face and voice as the twins comes bounding down the stairs and barrelling into his legs.
“Louis, Louis, Louis!”
“Come play with us!”
“Yes! Come play with us!”
“Pretty please?” They both flashed a gap-toothed grin that was almost impossible to resist.
“Sorry munchkins; I have to make your dinner. Why don’t you see if you can convince Harry while I make the mac-and-cheese.”
Harry almost has to cover his ears at the squeals that erupt from the two girls before they both begin tugging on his hands, trying to pull him towards the stairs.
“Harry! Harry, come on! It’ll be so much fun!” the twin's exclaimed, their voices morphing together into one shrill voice.
“Have fun, Hazza!”
Harry can still hear Louis’ ringing laughter even as Louis escapes to the kitchen and he’s pulled upstairs and to the twins’ room. Once there, Harry is coaxed into sitting in one of the tiny chairs around a tiny table, his leg folding up to his chest. The twins flutter around him in their tutus, offering him a plastic tea cup and a plastic cake.
“Thank you,” Harry says politely before turning to the stuffed bunny sitting beside him. “Come here often?”
“That’s Mr Puggles,” Phoebe explains.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Puggles,” Harry says, shaking the stuffed bunny’s hand. “Mrs Puggles couldn’t make it?”
Phoebe giggles beside him as Daisy walks over to the table with a basket of some sort.
“Now before you go to a tea party, it’s very important you look pretty,” she explains, dumping out an array of hair accessories.
Ten minutes later and Harry’s hair is covered in barrettes, mini ponytails, and neon hair extensions. And this is how Louis finds him when he comes upstairs.
“Dinner is re—” Louis begins before doubling over in laughter at the sight of Harry. It’s not long before there are tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks and Harry begins to worry about Louis’ intake of oxygen. But Harry is still so gone at the sight and sound, even if it’s at his expense. He’d happily make a fool of himself if the last thing Harry got to see and hear before falling asleep was Louis laughing.
“Dinner is—” Louis cuts off again for some last chuckles. “Dinner is ready.”
Both Daisy and Phoebe cheer before bolting out the door and down the stairs, chanting out macaroni while they go.
“Nice look, Styles,” Louis teases, leaning against the doorframe.
“Shut up,” Harry grumbles, reaching up to start fixing the mess of his hair.
“You missed one,” Louis says, his tone gentler as he steps forward, pulling one last barrette from Harry’s hair.
“Thanks.”
“Now come on. Macaroni and cheese time.”
Louis offers Harry a hand, and he takes it with a smile, pulling himself to his feet. It’s to Harry’s surprise when Louis doesn’t drop his hand, instead keeping a firm hold and leading Harry down the stairs. Harry bites his lip around a smile that threatens to break his face in two and tries desperately to swallow down the blush that is in full bloom across his cheeks. Breathe. Breathe. Fuck can Louis feel my pulse through my palm?
Harry’s tries not to be too crestfallen when Louis releases his hand to walk over to the stove where a pot sits with four bowls beside it. He carefully fills two bowls then carries them to the table, placing them in front of the awaiting twins.
“Be careful, munchkins; it’s hot.”
He splits the rest of the pot between the remaining two bowls and brings them to the table, taking the seat beside Harry, as all four begin to eat.
“It’s good, Lou,” Harry whispers while Daisy and Phoebe babble on with each other.
“It’s just macaroni and cheese out of a box; not that impressive,” Louis shrugs off the compliment.
“It’s always impressive when you don’t burn the kitchen down,” Harry smirks.
“Shush you cheeky sod.” Louis says, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s. Both boys go back to finishing their food in relative silence, Harry trying, and failing miserably, to eat around a smile.
Thirty minutes later, and Louis and Harry are doing the washing up, Harry washing and Louis drying, while Daisy and Phoebe flitter around the kitchen.
“Louis!” Daisy gasps suddenly.
Harry and Louis turn their attention away from the sink to see both twins’ faces pressed against the glass back door.
“Look at the snow!” Phoebe squeals.
“Can we go out in it?”
“We can make snow angels!”
“And build a snowman!”
“Yes! Please please please?”
“Louuuuuuuu,” both girls whine, giving their best wide eyes and pouts.
Louis shakes his head, but even though Harry can only see the back of his head, he knows that Louis has a fond smile plastered across his face. He knows Louis loves these girls to death and could never say no to them. And knowing that brings back that jolt in Harry’s chest.
“Alright. If you both go bundle up nice and warm, we can go play out in the snow, okay?”
Cheers of glee erupt from the twins and they hug Louis’ legs before running upstairs.
“I don’t have any snow stuff with me.”
“You know you can borrow some stuff. Come on now Haz.”
Louis rolls his eyes and dries his hands before heading for the stairs, Harry on his tail. They walk up to Louis’ room where the blue eyed boy begins perusing through his closet. He pulls out a grey jumper and tosses it over his shoulder and into Harry’s face.
“Cheers, Lou.”
“I doubt we’ll be out for long, so you should be fine in your jeans, but I’ll give you some woolly socks as well,” Louis says, moving to dig through his drawers. A moment later, a pair of socks are thrown in Harry’s face as well.
While Harry splutters around the wool in his mouth, Louis begins changing into warmer clothes himself. Harry tries not to stare too openly at the expanse of skin revealed as Louis pulls off his t-shirt to change into a blue striped jumper. It’s easier said than done, and his eyes rake over the tan skin, from his collarbones to the tuft of chest hair to his cute little tummy. Harry uses all the willpower he can muster to tear his eyes away when Louis looks up again, pretending to be very interested in the jumper in his hands.
“You changing or not? You know how impatient the girls are. They won’t wait,” Louis chuckles, pulling on his own pair of thick socks.
“No, yeah, sorry. Sorry,” Harry can feel another round of blush revving under his skin, and he quickly pulls his shirt over his head to hide it.
“I’m going to go make sure the girls are ready. Come outside when you’re ready?”
Harry nods and Louis heads out the door, going down the hall to the twins’ room. Harry plops down on the bed to pull on the socks, smiling when he hears giggle and footsteps go past the door and down the stairs. Harry follows, pulling on his shoes and jacket before heading to the back door. He’s greeted with the sight of Louis knelt in front of Daisy, pulling a hat down over her blonde hair. He gives his sister a kiss on the nose then lets her run off and join Phoebe in the back garden. The cute sight combined with Louis’ soft smile makes Harry’s heart flutter, and he steps forward to help Louis to his feet.
“Thanks Haz,” Louis says before that all too familiar glint is in his eyes. “Race you out there!”
Louis is out the back door in a flash, his laughter leaving a trail behind him. Harry tries to catch him but he pauses after only a few steps out the door. The snow seems to have started falling heavier than when the boys left school; the garden has transformed into rolling hills of white. The roof has icicles hanging from it that glisten in the light streaking out from inside the house. The branches of the trees are painted white and spread out to look like giant snowflakes dangling in the sky. The twins plop around in the snow, Louis chasing after them, and Harry can’t stop the smile that breaks his face as Louis scoops up a giggling Phoebe before dropping her in the powdery snow. He falls onto his back as well, and they both begin making snow angels. Harry bites his lip as Daisy sneaks up on the pair, a makeshift snowball in her tiny hands. Her surprise attack is ruined slightly by the giggle that erupts from her mouth, but she drops the snowball into Louis’ face nonetheless. The older boy splutters and sits up in the snow, his face reflecting faux shock as he shakes his head and runs a hand down his face.
“Was that a challenge Miss Daisy?” he asks.
Daisy continues to giggle behind her mitten-clad hands instead of responding.
“Well it’s a challenge accepted!”
Louis jumps to his feet, snow falling in clumps around his feet, and it makes Daisy squeal. She turns and runs, hiding behind the big tree that sits near the end of the garden.
“You can run, but you can’t hide, Munchkin!” Louis calls, packing a bundle of snow in his hands.
There’s another giggle from behind the tree and then a snowball comes flying out. It falls about half a metre away from Louis’ feet, and he tsks quietly. Louis turns to glance at Phoebe who is still sitting in the snow where her snow angel splays out under her. He signals her to be quiet with a finger to his lip before he creeps up on the tree, his feet crunching in the snow with every step. He presses his back against the trunk, peeking around before raising his arm holding the snowball.
“Daisy, look out!” Harry shouts.
Something between a squeal and a giggle comes from behind the tree, and then Daisy is darting out from behind it, tumbling into her sister.
“Harry, you traitor!” Louis shouts, throwing the unused snowball at Harry’s chest.
Harry raises a challenging eyebrow before bending down to scoop up some snow, packing it down into a ball. A smirk pulls across Harry’s face as he eyes Louis up. He looks unfairly cute in his jumper with his scarf wrapped tight around his neck and beanie pulled low over his head. The fabric of his checkered boots are stained white now, and his fringe sticks to the skin where it used to sweep across his forehead. It makes Harry want to tackle him into the snow and kiss him breathless. Then cuddling him up would be nice too.
“You gonna throw that, Styles, or what?” Louis’ voice breaks into Harry’s thoughts, emphasising his words with another snowball to Harry’s chest.
Harry blinks out of his daze and forces his expression back into that mischievous one from before. He squares his shoulders and throws the snowball, smiling wide when Louis yelps in surprise from being hit in the arm.
“It’s on now, Curly!” Louis declares, making and throwing snowballs in Harry’s direction as fast as he can. Harry laughs and runs to take cover by the shrubbery, beginning to build his supply of ammo.
“You’re going to lose this war, Tommo!” Harry calls, dodging a snowball aimed at his head.
“That’s what you think!” Louis shouts back, diving back behind the tree when Harry begins his assault.
Both boys cackle as they throw snowballs back and forth across the garden. The twins run around the battlefield, provoking both sides with snowballs. It’s not long before the wet and cold is seeping into Harry’s skin with each hit he takes. He still can’t help smiling around the pink flush that stains his cheeks. His chest is heaving from all the laughing and his fingers are beginning to go numb, but he doesn’t care because Louis looks adorable with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, as he tries to pack the snow in his hands into a perfect ball. Once Louis appears satisfied, he stands fully to his feet. Harry barely has a chance to be breathless at the wink Louis sends his way before the blue eyed boy is running towards him.
“Charge!” Louis yells, barrelling right into Harry and smashing the snowball into his face.
Harry goes tumbling to the ground, spluttering, and Louis collapses beside him. Once he’s wiped his face, Harry turns his head to look at the boy lying next to him, and he swears he can feel his heart stutter in his chest. The apples of Louis’ cheeks are tainted pink, and white speckles his eyelashes. The cold has drawn some of the colour out of his face, and his eyes look even more blue. They glimmer against the white of the snow, and Harry just wants to dive in and not get out. Not even when he gets all pruney. Not even when the blue turns grey and cold. Louis’ eyes aren’t the only thing that are more stunning in the cold. His lips are bright and red, and Harry just wants to lick them and bite them and kiss him. He could too. Louis’ right there and so close that Harry would only have to lean forward a little. And Louis’ looking right at him. Maybe he wants it too. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t broken eye contact. Maybe…
“Louis!”
Harry jolts back as Phoebe plops down onto her brother’s chest.
“Snowman now?”
“Yeah, sure Pheebs. You and Daisy go inside and grab some vegetables for his face, okay?”
“What about clothes?” Daisy pipes up.
“I’ll go find an old scarf and hat we can use,” Louis gets to his feet then turn to look back down at Harry. “Find some sticks to use for arms, Haz?”
“’course. Yeah,” Harry offers a smile and watches as Louis takes each of the twins’ hands and walks back inside.
Once Harry is sure Louis is gone, he whacks himself in the face with a groan. Stupid stupid stupid! He probably saw me lean in and now he’s going to think I’m weird! He lets himself stay lying in the snow despite the cold that nips at his back, and stares up at the light sky where clouds still hide the moon and stars from view. Quiet giggles filter out from the kitchen but other than that, it’s peaceful out here. A calming quiet that sinks into his bones and wills his heart to be normal again. Harry knows Louis will be back out soon, but he just keeps watching each exhale turn into a puff above his face before disappearing into the night. He wonders if he didn’t move if more snow would fall and cover him completely. He could bury his feelings and go back to being just Louis’ best friend. He could go back to laughing all the time with Louis and not wishing to swallow every sound that slides past Louis’ lips, not wanting to feel that sound pressed against his chest.
“Fuck,” Harry curses under his breath, pushing himself up into a sitting position and scrubbing at his eyes.
He pulls himself up and goes over the tree, looking for stray branches. He’s kicking at the snow when Louis’ voice drifts back outside.
“Okay, munchkins, we need to make a nice big snowball for his bottom first, alright?”
Harry turns to see Louis walking back outside, a ratty scarf and bobble hat in his hands, along with Phoebe who has carrots and Daisy who has a pack of grapes. Both twins have wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare up at their brother in wonder. Louis’ features are so soft, and Harry sort of wants to punch himself in the face.
“Did you find those sticks, Haz?”
“Trying to.”
“Check by the shrubs. We’re going to start building the snowman.”
Harry nods and shuffles across the snow. He can see Louis out of the corner of his eye. He’s on his knees and helping the twins to roll a snowball through the hills of white. He’s got that smile on his face that’s only reserved for his sisters, crinkles by the eyes, as the three pairs of arms settle the large snowball in the centre of the garden and begin shaving excess snow off the edges. It makes Harry’s chest ache as he digs through the snow to the ground below. He can hear giggles behind him, and when he turns around, finally having found some sticks, the snowman now has a full body.
“Come help with the head, Harry!” Daisy calls, toothy grin wide in the night.
Harry chuckles and walks over, laying the sticks down beside the clothes and food resting in the snow. He and Louis roll the last snowball and lift it atop the other two while the twins cheer at their feet. Once the edges are all smoothed out, Louis and Harry both lift a twin up so they can build the snowman’s face, grapes for eyes and smile and carrot for nose. Phoebe wraps the scarf around the snowman’s neck while Daisy fixes the hat atop his head. Harry and Louis set the girls down and they each take a stick and jab it into the snowman’s side.
“All done!” Phoebe cheers.
“He’s such a pretty snowman,” Daisy adds.
“Alright, stand in front of him and smile wide, so I can send a picture to Mum,” Louis says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
The twins pull funny faces rather than smiling, but Louis takes the photo and send it to Jay anyways. After, all four make their way back inside where Louis helps the twins out of their extra layers and hangs them on the radiator to dry.
“How about some hot chocolate now, yeah?” Louis offers.
“Yes please!” Daisy says, her sister already starting to rub at her eyes beside her.
“Alright then,” Louis says, grabbing four mugs from the cupboard along with the tub of chocolate mix. He goes over to the fridge and grabs the milk, filling each of the mugs then places them in the microwave while Harry helps the twins into seats at the table.
“Not gonna last,” Harry mouths to Louis.
Louis nods and takes the mugs out of the microwave, stirring in the chocolate mix before carrying two of the mugs over for the twins. He and Harry drink their own mugs while leaning back against the counter.
“Do you think it’ll snow more while we sleep? Or that we won’t have to go to school tomorrow ‘cause I want to play more in the snow,” Daisy jabbers on around her mug despite yawns that threaten to break up her sentences.
Phoebe has her head down next to her half-finished hot chocolate, and Louis puts his mug back down on the counter as Daisy’s eyes start to droop and her voice fizzles out.
“I think it’s bedtime, munchkins. Haz, can you get Pheebs?” Louis asks, going over and scooping Daisy up in his arms.
Harry has to keep himself from cooing at the sight of Daisy resting her head down on her brother’s shoulder, her tiny fist nestled into the fabric of his shirt. Instead, Harry goes over and gently picks up Phoebe, following Louis up the stairs and into the twins’ room. Louis gently lays Daisy down in her bed. He brushes some stray blonde locks from her forehead and brings the duvet up to her chin, tucking a stuffed dog into her arms.
“Goodnight Miss Daisy,” he says, voice quiet as he presses a kiss to her forehead. He stands up and comes to take Phoebe from Harry’s arms, doing the same to her, only tucking a stuffed monkey between her little arms.
“Story, Lou,” Phoebe croaks out, her eyes barely open.
“Alright, but just a short one,” Louis says, going over to the bookshelf on the other side of the room and pulling out a picture book. He sits down on the edge of Daisy’s bed and begins to read. “A mouse took a stroll through the deep, dark wood. A fox saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good. ‘Where are you going to, little brown mouse? Come and have lunch in my underground house.’ ‘It’s terribly kind of you, fox, but no. I’m going to have lunch with a Gruffalo.’”
Harry has to bite his lip hard around the fond grin that tries to pull at his lips, as he leans against the doorframe to the twins’ room. Leave it to Louis to put on over-exaggerated character voices while he reads. It makes warmth pool in his stomach before it spreads to his veins and settles in the marrow of his bones. Louis looks so soft in this setting, every sharp edge smoothed out with fondness, and it makes Harry’s chest ache. He can’t stop his brain from imagining a different time, a different room, a different pair of children in those beds. Harry can see it in his mind so perfectly. They’d carry the kids up to bed just like they did with the twins. Harry would help them change into their pyjamas and tuck them in. Louis would then read them a story, complete with voice and gestures. Then when the kids had drifted off into the land of dreams, he and Louis would retreat to their own bedroom. They’d cuddle and share lazy kisses until they fell asleep wrapped up in each other. A restricting heat settles around Harry’s entire being with how much he wants that, how perfect it would all be.
“All was quiet in the deep, dark wood. The mouse found a nut, and the nut was good. The end.”
Louis shuts the book and looks up, but the twins are already fast asleep. He has a small smile on his lips as he stands up and heads for the door, switching the light off and closing the door with a soft click.
“Thanks for carrying Pheebs up, Haz,” Louis whispers. “And thanks for helping in general.”
“No problem, Lou,” Harry says around a smile.
“That’s what best friends are for, right?” Louis throws a cheeky wink in Harry’s direction before heading back down the stairs.
Harry remains standing on the landing, swallowing hard around the lump that’s decided to dig its claws into his oesophagus. The image from before is gone in an instant, shattered. Like a mirror in a fun house, absurd and not real but shattering all the same. He sort of wants to cry, but he also wants to rip out his brain for allowing his thoughts to go where they did and dragging his heart with it.
“Haz?” Louis’ voice startles, and when he looks, Louis is looking concerned from the bottom of the stairs. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” Harry is quick to school his expression back to normal as he scurries down the steps to meet Louis.
“So how about that movie I had promised?” Louis suggests.
“Sounds good.”
Louis’ lips twitch downward slightly, and Harry’s sure he’s noticed the change in his demeanour, but Louis doesn’t comment, and he makes his way into the living room. Harry follows behind him, plopping down on the sofa and toying with the end of the blanket tossed over the back.
“So we’ve got a great selection of films to choose from,” Louis begins. “We have I think every Barbie film ever made, any Disney film you can think of, a bunch of chick flicks.”
Harry chuckles. “Well Bambi is a great first date film.”
“Which I still don’t get why you think that.”
“I’ve explained it to you like ten times!”
“Whatever. I don’t care. Should we watch The Notebook? Classic date night film? We can pretend we’re two girls.”
Harry rolls his eyes fondly at this ridiculous boy who he is so, so in love with.
“Silence is agreement! Notebook it is!”
“Oh god,” Harry groans.
Louis has that wide smug smile on his lips as he pops the DVD in before collapsing on the sofa beside Harry. He pulls the blanket from behind them and drapes it over both their legs, scooting closer to Harry and laying his head on the taller boy’s shoulder. Harry tries not to tense up too much at the touch. He and Louis have cuddled all the time, but now it burns Harry everywhere their skin makes contact. It hurts having Louis so close but so far away.
“You’re really good with them,” Harry says, just to have something else to focus on.
“Hmm?”
“The twins. You’re really good with them.”
“Oh. Um thanks.”
“Like seriously, Lou. You’ll make a great dad someday.”
“I’ll have to find meself a pretty boy at university next year first, am I right?” Louis gives a playful jab to Harry’s side, and Harry tries to choke out some semblance of a laugh.
“Too bad you couldn’t find a pretty boy here, huh?”
“Yeah… I guess…”
Harry doesn’t say anything else, just turns back to the film. There’s a tension that’s settled in the air like the blanket of snow just outside the window, but Harry doesn’t dare comment, doesn’t dare move for fear of the static shock that may erupt. Instead, he tries to focus on Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling. I wonder if Lou would agree to a date if I hung from a Ferris Wheel…
“You’d make a good dad too, you know,” Louis’ tentative voice speaks up, and when Harry turns his head, Louis is chewing on his bottom lip.
“I guess. Don’t think I’d find a pretty boy at university though.”
“Why not? Don’t sell yourself short, Haz! You’re a good looking lad!”
Harry shrugs, and despite the jostling, Louis doesn’t remove his head from Harry’s shoulder. He is frowning though. Harry doesn’t like it. It looks misplaced on his beautiful face.
“Why do you think that?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“No, tell me.”
“Just forget it, Lou.”
“No! Best friends don’t keep secrets!”
“Yeah,” Harry laughs humourlessly.
“Harry!” Louis sits up fully now, a frown carving deep lines into his face.
“Maybe I just already found my pretty boy, alright?!”
Louis looks taken aback with Harry’s tone, and Harry can see something foreign swimming in his eyes, but he barrels on. “You have a boyfriend and didn’t tell me?”
Harry scoffs. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“But you just said—”
“It’s not like that. It’s… unrequited.”
“Oh. Well you just got to win the lad over, Haz! I’ll help you! We can do something proper romantic.”
Harry shakes his head before burying his face in his hands.
“Is it Niall? I bet it is; you too are quite close…”
“Oh my god…”
“You know, I bet if you did anything involving food, Niall’d be putty in your hands. Like cook a meal or—”
“You seriously cannot be that thick!”
Louis falls silent at that, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Harry feels like his insides are both on fire and frozen over at the same time. It’s like there’s icicles pricking at his nerves while lava runs through his veins. He swallows around that lump that’s trying to make home in his throat again, and focuses on the blues of Louis’ eyes, tries to pinpoint the different shades, the different emotions swimming there.
“It’s you, you daft twat,” Harry whispers, too scared to say it any louder in fear of breaking this moment, in fear of breaking them.
Louis keeps staring at him, his face unreadable, and as the more seconds tick by, the more Harry wants to crawl out of skin. The lava in his veins has definitely frozen now, leaving only cold and numbness that bites and nips at everything inside him. It settles in his bones and makes him feel brittle and so, so breakable; like one word from Louis could break him into tiny little pieces. Or maybe he’s already broken into little pieces, held together only by a thin piece of thread that Louis will pull when he decides to leave, decides he doesn’t feel the same and walks away from Harry completely. He’ll leave Harry as dust on the floor without a heart because his beating, bleeding heart has always been tucked into Louis’ back pocket.
Harry can’t take the silence, and he can feel the burn of tears beginning to tickle the back of his eyes. He pushes himself off the sofa and escapes to the kitchen. The four mugs from before are sitting there, and Harry picks them up, taking them to the sink and beginning to wash them. He needs something to do with his hands, and this will have to do.
“Harry,” Louis says behind him.
Louis’ voice sounds softer than usual, and Harry refuses to acknowledge what that might mean as he continues to scrub at the third mug. It’s more than clean, but he doesn’t care at the moment.
“Haz,” Louis says beside him now, reaching out a hand to touch his arm.
“Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything, Lou,” Harry pleads, the mug clattering into the sink.
Harry sees Louis’ nod out of his peripheral vision before he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the sink. Everything in his body feels tense, and he’s finding it hard to breathe.
Is this what it feels like when your world comes crashing down?
Harry hears the water shut off, and then there are gentle hands on him again, guiding him back against the counter. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to see the pity, the apology, the rejection that will be written all across Louis’ face. He may try and hide it, but Harry will be able to see it in his eyes. Always can. Louis brushes a hand up through Harry’s hair, gentle fingers carding through his curls. It’s his way of soothing Harry, and Harry knows that at the moment, it’s trying to coax him into opening his eyes. It won’t work. Harry will just memorise this feeling for when it’s ripped away. Suddenly, the hand is gone from his hair, and Harry has to stop himself from whimpering at the loss, but then the hand is resting against his cheek, warm and solid and gentle. Before Harry can question the touch, there are lips ghosting across his own. Those lips start pressing more firmly against his, and Harry can’t breathe. His heart is stuttering useless in his chest, and his mind is filled with static and fog. Like a switch, though, his brain sparks back to life. Louis is kissing him. Louis. Is. Kissing. Him. And just like that, Harry melts against Louis, wrapping his arms around Louis’ slim waist and kissing back. With Harry’s response, Louis presses closer, and their lips move and mould together in perfect sync.
After a few moments, Louis slowly pulls back, and Harry tries to finally catch his breath. He blinks his eyes open and is met with bright eyes staring back. Louis’ lips are shiny and redder now and it makes a shiver spike up Harry’s spine because he did that.
“Not so thick now, am I?” Louis teases.
“You’re still thick,” Harry says, tone flat.
“Oi!” Louis gives him a playful slap to the arm.
Harry rolls his eyes and shuts him up by kissing him because he can now. He can kiss Louis whenever he wants now, and if he’s honest, that might be always. It’s everything he could imagine and better. Louis’ lips are thin and soft and fit like a puzzle piece against his own. His scruff tickles slightly at Harry’s chin, and his waist is perfect for Harry to rest his hands. He tastes so Louis that Harry can’t even pinpoint what it is. He’s on cloud nine and he never wants to come down. He wants to keep kissing Louis until he dies of oxygen deprivation, and he wouldn’t even care because it’d be the perfect way to die. But then Louis is pulling back, and Harry kind of wants to just hold him there. Harry leans forward, intending to do as such, but Louis holds a hand to Harry’s chest to stop him and turns his head towards the doorway.
“Louisssssss!” a small voice calls from upstairs. Harry’s not quite sure which twin it is.
“Nightmare,” Louis explains, stepping away fully and making his way out of the kitchen. He stops and turns just at the bottom of the stairs, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Don’t go anywhere?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Fin!