Work Text:
Louis’ lugging a Norway spruce through the front door while Harry’s making a dish of roasted rosemary chicken with potatoes for dinner and there’s a hazelnut crunch cake sitting in the oven. The smell of both their dinner and the cooling cake is reaching the older boy’s nose all the way to the hallway and he can’t help inhaling it.
“Smells sweet and delicious Hazza!” he yells from where’s he’s locking the front door with one hand while the other is balancing the tree.
Harry is smiling, he loves compliments from his boyfriend, it makes him feel all gooey on the inside, “Thanks boobear. Did you get the tree?”
“I bloody well did,” Louis groans out, “You have no idea how fucking heavy this is to carry four floors high when you use the staircase.”
“You could have used the elevator,” Harry’s kind of suggesting because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s being sarcastic but at the same time he wants to laugh.
“That’s the thing innit?” Louis’ breathing heavily once again because he’s practically liftingthe tree all the way to the corner of their hallway right next to the mantelpiece, “It isn’t working. I swear this building has the worst repairing schedule.”
“It’s Christmas Lou,” Harry’s giggling from where he’s searching the cabinets for some caster sugar, “Let the workers have some Christmas cheer.”
“Always looking out for others,” Louis replies softly, a fond look on his face as he plants the tree into the pot, “My hazza.”
Harry flushes red, Louis literally knows how to make him melt “Stop it Lou.”
The other boy chuckles and Harry can hear it from the hallway although it’s muffled. “Would you mind helping me with the eggnog boo?”
“What about the tree Haz?” he asks, “It needs decorating.” The two of them had been so late on Christmas preparation due to the Christmas play Louis had been assigned to put on and the extra classes Harry had been attending so he could graduate early after Louis. Its Christmas already and Louis had managed to order a spruce to be delivered so late in the evening and the guy supposed to deliver their tree was kind enough to understand their situation and personally tow the tree to their block. Of course Louis had given the blond headed guy a tip because it’s Christmas and he’s a kind hearted soul too.
“Yes but if you haven’t forgotten we’ve also got containers of cookies to deliver before midnight. The quicker the easier,” Harry reminds him. It was part of their Christmas bucket list to hand out homemade festive cookies to the homeless, after all no one should miss out on the holiday cheer and if they could do this simple thing for those people out on the streets then it’d be a Christmas spent light hearted.
Louis doesn’t hesitate to contemplate the suggestion, his boyfriend knows the right thing to do sometimes and this was one of those times. He neglects the tree to help Harry out in the kitchen. Two eggs, vodka, caster sugar and nutmegs are already laid out on the worktop when he joins his boy. He gives him a chaste kiss on the lips to which Harry returns a warm smile, thumbing his lower lip before letting go.
If one thing Louis is good at is making drinks because of course they’re the easiest. He rations the ingredients for two people and mixes them in two separate mugs before straining over ice and grating some nutmeg on the top. He looks proud of his accomplishment when he turns to Harry who’s finished with the chicken, setting it atop a large dish before placing a mesh food cover on top.
It takes him a few seconds to realize that Louis’ watching him. He turns around with a quirked brow in question.
“All done,” Louis makes a swiping hand motion to the drinks on the table. They look luscious with the froth on the top in a layer. Harry leaves the stove where he’s been layering a pan with potatoes to inspect the drinks. Sometimes you can never trust Louis in the kitchen. He dips a finger in the drink to taste and Louis’ standing beside him with crossed arms, shaking his head at the fact that Harry’s still a bit cautious with Louis making meals or drinks.
“It’s good,” Harry makes a smacking noise with his mouth. He places a hand on the side of Louis’ neck and presses his lips to his forehead making Louis giggle. Harry likes it when he giggles, the sound he makes and the way his nose crinkles is absolutely endearing. “You can adorn the tree with your decorating skills now. Thank you for helping me.”
“Anything for my boy,” Louis beams skipping out of the kitchen.
“You better leave some for me to dress the tree with or I’ll hang you on the tree.” Harry laughs getting back to his meal.
“With or without clothes?” Louis questions.
“Don’t be a cheeky monkey.”
“I’m being the most innocent I can be and that’s a hand job.”
Harry muffles a laugh into his hand, eyes crinkling and growing small as he does so. He loves his boy very much.
By the time Louis’ finished with three quarters of the tree and the house, Harry’s done with their dinner, icing the cake and has placed a box of containers filled with a variety of Christmas cookies he and Louis had spent all afternoon on, making them together and icing them in their preferred choices but that includes the flour fight they’d had in the midst of it.
“Packed and ready to go?” Louis questions as he watches Harry get into his coat and boots. Louis’ already dressed, bundled in winter clothes, a scarf snug around his neck and he helps Harry by pulling on his beanie for him.
Harry nods with a grin and places a smaller cardboard box in Louis’ hands while he takes the larger one. Louis gives a huff when he notices the size difference but Harry pointedly nods to the keys sitting on the table, wordlessly asking Louis to lock the door for him.
They leave their apartment using the stairs. Louis’ right, the elevators don’t work and Harry feels a tinge of annoyance but quickly reminds himself of what he’d told Louis earlier when he’d complained. Harry almost feels invincible because nothing can bring him down on this day.
Louis’ way ahead of him, standing under a streetlamp, watching Harry take long strides while thinking. He’s got that look on his face, that look that lets Louis know when his boyfriend is thinking but he’s got nothing to worry about because there’s a smile etched on his features and that lets Louis know that Harry’s thinking of something good.
“I’m freezing my socks off Curly,” Louis calls out. Harry hurries towards him once Louis’ words have startled him out of his reverie. Since they can’t hold hands because of how heavy Harry’s box is and he needs both hands to carefully hold it, Louis wraps an around his waist. They’re both very touchy, wanting to touch the other in any form whenever they can and it simply would not do well when they couldn’t at least graze each other’s fingers. Their friends love teasing them just for it whenever they find the lovers touching each other in some form and that was all the time. They’re too in love and well you can’t really blame them. True love is hard to come by, so rare in the purest form.
They meet the first person by the bakery door. He’s got nothing but a thin blanket covering his shivering form. He’s got his eyes closed and fists clenched, teeth chattering in the biting cold. Louis knows how much these affect Harry; he sneaks his fingers under Harry’s inner shirt and rubs circles on his hip, trying to alleviate him from his thoughts. “Babe,” Louis whispers. It’s a whisper that conveys a message, a message that says he knows how the other feels but there’s nothing they can do.
Harry wishes he could give all these people a quantity of necessities, it tears his heart apart that there’s kids too who beg on the streets, no one deserves this but he and Louis are just college students, trying to get by their own lives, it’s hard for them too, sometimes there’s days when they go with cereal for dinner.
“We can make their Christmas a little better,” Louis continues to whisper, his thumb still stroking Harry’s hip, “You promised me you wouldn’t let it get to you.”
Harry takes a deep breath with his eyes closed before opening them and giving Louis a wry smile. Louis crouches and gently shakes the man awake with a hand to his shoulder. He looks scared for a moment backing away before realizing the two boys mean no harm and squints at them without a word.
Harry crouches next to Louis, pulling out a light red container and handing it to the man who takes it with wide eyes. “It’s some cookies we made,” Harry smiles, “Merry Christmas.”
“M-merry Chr-christmas,” the man stutters too surprised to form coherent sentences, “I… t-thank you.”
Louis pats the man’s shoulder and slips a few notes, “Please buy something warm for yourself. This weather will freeze you.”
The man can only nod in reply, staring at the two boys who stand up to leave, the notes clutched tightly in his palm and the cookies held tight to his chest.
Harry wants to cry, wants to fucking burst into tears but there’s a hand on his waist again, rubbing soothing circles and keeping him grounded, reminding him that it’s gonna be okay.
~
They return to their apartment with empty boxes, content that they’d managed to give away all of the produce.
Louis’ hungry and Harry hears the grumbling sound his stomach makes when they’re hanging up their coats. Louis gives him a sheepish look and Harry makes a pouty face asking for a kiss. Louis goes in for it, placing his hands on Harry’s waist and Harry’s on Louis’ tiny one. They daintily kiss each other on the lips, Harry’s lips are chapped and they rub against Louis’ roughly but he loves it, loves the fact that he knows Harry’s lips so well, know how they feel and how he tastes.
“Dinner,” Harry reminds pulling away and pecking his nose.
“Right,” Louis grins, “I’ll put on the carols.”
Harry nods and heads to the kitchen to arrange their dinner, placing their main course on the centre of their mahogany dining table and two pieces of cake on a separate dish for desert, the eggnogs a perfect finish to the touch.
He hears the faint melody of carols drifting through the hallway and Louis comes bounding, taking a seat next to Harry and tucking in.
Harry watches him cut up a piece of chicken and chew it with a piece of potato, his small mouth moving in such a motion that makes him look like a cute hedgehog, the tip of his nose so pink from the cold. He does this all the time, waits for Louis’ confirmation whenever he’s cooked something. Louis hums in content, making a blissful expression and Harry’s knows he’s done well.
Louis’ eyes crinkle before he gives a reply, “It tastes scrumptious. You know I have no words to describe your cooking Hazza.”
“I still like it though when you say something about my cooking even if it’s fuck you.”
“Okay, “Louis grins biting into another forkful of chicken, “Fuck you.”
Harry laughs loudly, the sound seems to reverberate and Louis feels warmth spread through him at the sound of it. It’s one of the many things he loves about Harry, his laugh, it’s even enough to make a thief stop and listen, well that’s a bit over the top but he’ll make the thief stop and listen just because he loves his boy.
Louis hooks his foot around Harry’s ankle and they go back to devouring their meal.
~
Their tummies are full after Christmas dinner all thanks to Harry’s cooking skills and Louis’ making a show of walking around clutching his stomach as if he’s with child. Harry’s got a dreamy look because someday.
Yes someday.
The carols have been turned off and the telly is on, static buzzing on the screen awaiting a DVD.
“Let’s finish decorating the tree and snuggle in for a movie?”
“Yeah let’s,” Harry nods.
He picks up where Louis left off, a few balls here and there, there’s a few angels and reindeers and tiny Santas, the star for the last. He knows Louis had subtly left it in the pile since he’s too short to reach the top of the tree but he says nothing about it, taking a step back to see his finished work.
Louis puts on Elf, one of their favourite Christmas movies and gets behind Harry on the couch, pulling up the blanket to their chests. He hooks his chin on Harry’s shoulder, inhaling his scent in the process.
He sneakily runs his hand along Harry’s torso under the covers to pull the collar of Harry’s jumper aside and press kisses along his shoulder, making Harry purr in satisfaction.
“Lou,” Harry whines.
“Sorry, sorry,” Louis’ chuckling, letting go and resting his hand on Harry’s waist again, pulling him closer, “Just one kiss?”
Harry turns around briefly to press his lips to Louis’, pecking them a few times and rubs his cold nose against Louis’. Louis stares into his eyes and tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear before Harry flutters his eyes and turns around to concentrate on the movie, slotting his fingers through Louis.
The Christmas tree looks dazzling in the dark, the lights are dimming and lighting up in a rhythmic pattern and the light reflects off the ornaments. The rest of the house is decorated in tinsel and other smaller decorations. Harry has lit sweet smelling candles on the mantel piece and it feels so cosy and like home, like his Harry. Harry is his home, his everything. Harry’s his anchor and the only one he’d travel around the world for.
He’s so lucky to have him in his life. A year ago his house was empty on Christmas day, plain white walls and shabby couches, empty cabinets and rotten take out but now here he is, a year later with a beautiful boy to call his.
Their house has a pretty pale pink vintage wallpaper Harry had picked out, there’s framed photographs of their families, friends and themselves hanging from every nook and corner, there’s antiques and a lovely household pieces Harry buys from shops he sees. He’s got to give credit to Styles for the organization.
Louis feels a gush of happiness swirling in his tummy and enveloping his heart. This heart that has been trampled many a time and suddenly Harry comes swooping in to fix it with his gentle caresses and kisses. He’d looked after it and Louis gave him his heart because he trusted him enough to protect it and in return Harry had given him his.
The tree in the corner only ignites the snug feeling that courses through him, each time he looks at it. He feels so warm and as if he’s going to fly. The feeling is ecstasy; it’s so excessive that he doesn’t know what to do with it so he nuzzles his face into the back of Harry’s neck, a wide smile playing on his face. As if on instinct, Harry squeezes Louis’ hand and brings it up to press a kiss to the back of it.
“I love you,” he whispers between the sounds of the movie.
“I love you back my darling,” Louis’ so joyous, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”