Archive of Our Own ^beta

⸻⸻⸻

Louis got himself into this because of a parking ticket.

Well, because of a few parking tickets.

“Right, so you parked in the lot, yeah? Across the street?” Niall questions as he speeds through the back entrance, dodging other vendors and staff swiftly.

Louis purses his lips.

No, he didn’t park in the lot.

Niall whips his head back, raising an eyebrow when Louis doesn’t answer. When he meets a tentative glare, a sheepish smile covers his face.

Louis’ glare only deepens.

“Right. Sorry mate,” Niall chuckles, shrugging up one shoulder as he turns back around. “Forgot about that.”

“S’alright, I forgot too,” Louis hums. “Until, y’know, I had to get here today and had no way of doing so.”

“Aren’t you lucky to have me as your best mate and personal Uber driver then?” Niall winks.

Louis rolls his eyes, picking up his pace to keep up and swerving in between the wires covering the ground in the backstage area. He can’t help it when he nearly knocks over a pile of stacked boxes—definitely filled with equipment he can’t afford to even think about replacing.

He grabs its sides quickly, breath hitching as it sways back and forth before stilling again.

“Tommo! Keep up!”

It’s going to be a long day.

Louis doesn’t have a chance to let out a sigh of relief before he’s heading after his best friend’s incessant voice—one that’s already giving him a headache five minutes in.

Niall’s moving way too fucking fast for someone who trips over a chair in the dining hall at least twice a week.

“Look on the bright side,” Niall chirps, reaching for a walkie and tossing another to Louis, who catches it easily. “At least you’re not spending money on gas, eh?”

Louis simply replies with a tight smile.

Fucking parking tickets.

He meant to pay them off, meant to get his fucking car back from the towing company that’s held his car hostage for nearly two weeks now.

In Louis’ defense, however, maybe the university should let their students know that they’ll tow their cars. Louis is certain ninety-nine percent of people would pay their tickets efficiently if given the incentive.

He does plan on paying the tickets—hell, he fucking needs to, especially if he plans on making the drive home next month in time for Lottie’s birthday. Especially if he plans on his mom not finding out about this.

Except he may need some money first.

He may need about three hundred dollars.

The logistics aren’t important, really. What’s important is that he needed a job and he needed one fast.

This, of course, ended up being the opportunity that Niall's been waiting for.

Ever since their freshmen year, Niall had been trying to have Louis stay back at the University of Washington for the summer and work the amphitheater’s summer concert series. He’s always claimed it was the best job he’s ever had, and that Louis was “an absolute fucking knob” for choosing to head home for their three month break instead.

What can he say? He’s with his mom and doesn’t have to cook when he’s home. His family usually misses him terribly. Win-win.

Things were different this time around though—it was the summer before they all headed into their final year.

That, however, is something Louis will definitely not be getting into. He’ll avoid that reality for a few more weeks, thank you.

But with him staying in Seattle for the summer, Niall didn’t hesitate to offer the job again.

This time, Louis didn’t decline. 

He didn’t question Niall on Thursday when he was told the first concert was happening the next day. In fact, he nearly walked to the amphitheater once Niall mentioned he’d only have to work one gig to have enough money to pay for the tickets and the towing company.

Louis isn’t one to deny a free concert either.

Especially when it’s Hozier.

He didn’t complain once, not even after waking up at six in the morning to get to the amphitheater. Not even after putting on the horrid bright orange polo (which he’ll absolutely be taking off once it got dark) with his black jeans.

But after already five hours in the blistering heat with barely any breaks, and with Louis still effectively resembling a large traffic cone...

His patience is wearing slightly thin.

Nearly falling on his ass every five minutes is not helping this matter.

“Don’t we get a lunch break?” Louis eventually asks Niall, fumbling with his walkie until he hears static. He smirks when he connects with another channel, listening briefly to the security from the bank across the street before turning his attention back.

The blonde shrugs, messing with his own walkie, brows furrowed as he tries to get it to work. “No,” he mumbles, grinning soon after the device creates static.

Louis blinks. “Is that even legal?”

“We got that break when it started raining.”

“We couldn’t even leave!”

Niall shrugs, “It happens.”

“Definitely not legal,” Louis sighs, knocking his head against a tower of boxes (once he confirms they’re sturdy enough).

Niall lifts up one of the boxes on Louis’ pile, shrugging as he continues walking, as if to say, ‘What can ya do?’

Louis hits his head again.

“Welcome to showbiz, baby!”

“A welcome and goodbye all in one,” Louis mumbles.

“What was that, Lou?”

“Nothing,” he says, picking up his own box. “Nothing at all, Neil. Who needs food? Not me. I’m sure my stomach will love my pancreas. Perhaps my liver? Appendix?”

“Didn’t you get that taken out sophomore year?”

Louis pauses. “My liver will do just fine then.”

“That’s the spirit, sunshine,” Niall sings. “You’re getting some vitamin D right now, and a sick farmer’s tan.”

“Goodie,” Louis says.

Niall stops walking abruptly, nearly making Louis slam into him and drop both of their boxes.

“Fuck,” Louis mutters, turning slightly to avoid colliding head-on.

Niall simply chuckles. If Louis narrows his eyes anymore they’ll be shut completely.

“Having fun yet, petal?”

“If we miss dinner, I’m smashing your guitar.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “We won’t miss dinner.”

⸻

They miss dinner.

They were actually given a break this time, except they were stuck in the storage trailer sorting electric chords and fucking missed it.

Hozier would be coming out in about two hours, with his opening act already one song into their set. The amphitheater is nearly full, the thrum of the instruments and voices through the speakers making the ground vibrate to the beat.

Louis needs food.

He hasn’t eaten since yesterday—unless you count the bag of chips Liam left on the kitchen counter he had this morning.

“Niall, I hope you enjoyed playing Rosa,” Louis says in a completely neutral tone, grabbing his backstage badge from his locker and stuffing it into his back pocket. “Because she won’t be there when you get home.”

“Louis, for the last fucking time it is not my fault we missed dinner!” Niall whines, tugging at his hair. “Leave Rosa alone! She’s done nothing!”

“Collateral damage. I’m starving.”

“Then go grab a hot dog from the fucking vendors station! We get them for free!” Niall groans, wrapping his own badge around his neck.

Louis stares.

“Since when?”

“Since always.”

“You never told me that.”

“Yes, I did. Multiple times,” Niall says flatly, slamming his locker door shut. “I gave up five minutes into your Taco Bell rant.”

“God, I’d die for a Chalupa box.”

Niall hits his head against the locker, making the entire row shake. He looks at Louis in agony.

“You exhaust me.”

“And you starve me.”

“Just go get your hotdog. Please, do us all that favor.”

Louis simply smiles, walking out of the employee area and toward the front of the venue

“Oi, make sure you show your fucking badge!” Niall yells, his voice echoing in the empty space. Louis makes a point to pat his back pocket harder so Niall sees.

“You know, while you’re at it, it’d be great if you could maybe bring me something—”

“Thank you, Niall” Louis calls back sarcastically, ignoring the request.

The last thing he hears is Niall’s bellowing cackle as he turns toward the security guards separating the backstage area from the concert goers. Louis twirls the lanyard, only stopping briefly when he reaches the guard. He tightens his grip when, even still, it nearly flies off of his finger from a strong gust of wind.

He looks up to the sky with pinched eyebrows, seeing grey clouds mix with the blue sky. The sun’s still out at least.

Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to finding food.

The guard lets Louis through with a smile and a nod, barely batting an eye at the badge being shown. It’s a bit easier than Louis anticipated, though it’s probably easier to let people out than it is to let people in.

As he makes his way through the barricade, he sees the curious gaze of some of the audience, but doesn’t pay them any attention.

They’re probably looking at his orange polo anyway.

He fucking hates this shirt.

The only thing on Louis’ mind right now though is this food. This free food. Supposedly.

If only Niall would have told him this sooner. He definitely could have ended his Taco Bell rant a few moments early.

Louis finds the nearest vendor to his right, not too far away from backstage. He spots Oli almost immediately, making eye contact and wiggling his brows when the look of recognition flashes across his face.

Oli waves him over, and Louis sheepishly skips completely over the line to go behind the counter.

“Hot dog alright, Lou?” Oli asks, practically yelling at how loud the venue already is.

“Yeah that works, thanks man,” Louis says, eyes traveling across the rows of people in the seats behind the pit.

It was a bit more sparse there, but that was to be expected with the show not being in full swing yet. There’s still dozens of people making their way down to their seats, and there’s probably more waiting in line outside.

Louis doesn’t doubt the sidewalks outside are in complete chaos. They always are on nights of the show with the amphitheater being in the dead center of downtown. Buildings tower over it, the skyline in complete view and city traffic heard around every corner. Aesthetically, it's the perfect place for a concert, and Louis’ gone to his fair share over his years here.

Another strong gust of wind makes the tent over the food vendor's station bounce erratically.

From where Louis’ standing, the sky looks blue across the venue. He’s not too sure about right above him though, where the tent is moving so wildly he’s afraid it’s either going to topple on top of them or fly out into the crowd.

He turns to find Oli holding out his hot dog on a tray with fries, and wearing a completely unfazed expression.

Louis takes the meal from his hands, looking up warily at the swaying tent. “Thanks. This wind is strange, yeah?”

Oli shrugs. “Storm will probably be a doozy.”

Louis freezes, hot dog still between them.

“Storm?”

“Yes?”

That explains the wind then.

“I checked the radar,” Louis says, shaking his head. “There was no storm for today.”

Oli fixes him with an incredulous look. “Dude, how long have you lived in Seattle? These storms come out of nowhere during the summer.”

Louis lets out a wary laugh, nodding. “Right, right.” Of course they do.

“Just be ready to be here late, the concert will probably get delayed at some point if the lightning gets too close.”

“Fingers crossed it stays away then,” Louis says with a sigh. He holds up his food, “Thanks for the food, bro.”

Oli waves. “See ya later, Lou.”

The second Louis steps out from under the tent, he feels raindrops.

It’s not bad—he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he had already been outside, but the sudden coldness feels heavy on Louis’ skin.

Right then.

Grabbing a few napkins, Louis covers his food as he makes his way back toward the backstage area. The rain is getting heavier, but not enough to cause a delay—at least Louis hopes.

That is of course, until he hears the faint sound of thunder over the music.

He knows the security guards hear it too when they all exchange a glance, and he knows the band hears when the lead singer of the opening act turns his head toward his manager as he hits the final note in the song.

He ignores the concerned looks etched into faces of the audience and continues his journey back to the barricade. That's when the lead singer clears his throat.

“Alright everyone, we’re gonna continue with our set,” he says hesitantly, the faint sound of his drummer tapping against her set in the background. “But we might have to cut it short if the storm picks up.” The crowd boos, making the band chuckle. “Let’s hope it holds out!”

Louis would appreciate there not being a delay, but he’d appreciate staying dry a bit more.

He ends up reaching the barricade just as the next song starts, having a clear view of the band with the stairs leading up to the stage at his right. It seems the guards aren't only blocking the entrance to the backstage area, but to the stage as well.

Louis reaches into his back pocket for his lanyard, showing it swiftly as the guards open the barricade a crack for him. He mouths a thank you and slides through.

It’s in that moment that he sees a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye, a bolt striking clearly through the sky and right behind the space needle.

A few things happen shortly after this.

The band’s music screeches to a halt.

Gasps and murmurs are heard from the audience.

People start scrambling backstage, a flurry of traffic cones (people) scurrying in Louis’ peripheral vision.

Oh, and the security guards are attempting to push Louis onto the stage.

“Guys, that was lightning,” the lead singer says through the mic. Louis can see the other members already making their way off the opposite side of the stage. “Our set is done, stay safe.”

Louis’ eyes widen as another boom of thunder echoes through the sky, and he feels another push toward the stage. In a panic, he puts his foot against a high step for leverage, and pushes against the back of a guard, refusing. He attempts to turn around, but a hand is pressed against his shoulder, urging him forward.

“What the fuck?” he nearly yells, not letting them push him any further.

“We’re delaying the concert kid, you’ve gotta go tell everyone to leave.”

“What?!” Louis exclaims, shaking his head. He looks between the stage and the audience. “No, fuck no.”

The guard’s eyes narrow. “No?”

Louis swallows.

“That’s not, uhm. That’s not my job,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve just been moving shit backstage, I don’t—”

“You’ve got on the orange shirt, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” Louis mutters under his breath.

“Speak up.”

Louis holds back an eye roll, foot still up. He can hear the voices getting louder in the crowd. “Yeah, looks like I do.”

“Then it’s your job,” the guard says. The other suddenly appears in front of Louis and pushes his foot back onto the ground. With both feet now planted on the cement, the guard adjusts his hands on Louis’ back.

“Now go.”

Louis just wanted to eat his fucking hot dog.

Finally giving in, Louis drags his feet up the stairs. The guard lets go of his back at some point (how courteous of them) and he makes the rest of the way up on his own, focusing on the black metal clanging against the heavy rain drops.

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

One of the techies (Jayme, he thinks. Or maybe John?) gestures for him to make his way center-stage the second he reaches the top. Louis nods, eyes widening again when he takes a brief glance at the crowd.

Definitely different seeing everyone from up here than from the ground.

He takes a deep breath before moving forward.

That is until Jayme grabs his arm and takes the hotdog and fries right out of his hands before he can stop him.

Louis looks at him in disbelief before he’s being waved off. “Exit on the other side, now go!”

Niall’s guitar will be in the dumpster tonight.

With a quick glare, Louis heads to the mic. The crowd settles down once they see him, and he’s met with hundreds of confused—and most likely judgmental—pairs of eyes.

Great start then.

There’s a thin cover over the stage that’s protecting him from the rain, so he takes a moment to wipe his soaked hair across his forehead, clearing his throat as the crowd turns dead silent.

“Hi?”

No one greets him back.

Tough crowd.

“Uhm, we’re delaying the concert until further notice due to the storm,” Louis says quietly into the mic. No one reacts, looking almost as lost as Louis feels. He looks off stage to see if he’s doing this correctly.

The guards urge him to continue.

He stares at them blankly.

What the fuck else is he supposed to say.

“And you all have to leave the venue until it’s safe...? Seek cover and what not,” he continues, turning back to the audience—but it comes out more as a question. Another bolt of lightning strikes from behind the buildings and Louis winces. “Like, right now. Preferably.”

There’s only a brief moment of silence, one where Louis makes eye contact with a few individuals. The rain is coming down pretty heavily now, and it’s the only thing filling in the absolute silence of an entire amphitheater.

Then the pit erupts into chaos.

This, Louis thinks, should have been expected. The pit is clearly using their close proximity to him to their advantage, their protests getting louder with each moment he stands up there.

It’s not pleasant.

There’s yelling and booing and there’s no one following Louis’ order to leave.

“I’m not giving up my spot.”

“Where the fuck are we supposed to go?”

“When can we come back?”

“I better get a fucking refund if you’re making us leave!”

“Who even are you?”

“Who sent a kid up here to kick us out?”

Louis stares at the actual kid who yelled the last question with an incredulous look.

“Guys,” Louis starts, voice rising a little so he can get their attention again. The crowd only gets louder. “Oi! I’m speaking up here!”

“We don’t care!”

Louis is only about sixty percent sure they aren’t supposed to talk back to him—that they’re supposed to follow his simple directions.

He’s about eighty percent sure they aren’t supposed to be assholes.

When another crack of thunder echoes through, only dimming the screams slightly, his patience is no longer waring thin, it’s fucking gone.

He’d prefer to not get struck by lightning surrounded by a stage filled with metal.

“Listen,” he snaps, nearly yelling through the mic. The sharpness of his voice through the speakers makes the audience quiet down. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to come back in, if I had to take a fucking wild guess it’ll be whenever the storm clears. The concert has been delayed, not cancelled—as of now at least, so no refunds needed. I’m sure there’ll be info on that if it happens,” he says sarcastically. “Take shelter literally anywhere, I couldn’t care less. There’s a parking deck across the street, go to your cars—but you can’t stay here. It isn’t safe, for fucks sake!”

If it weren’t for the storm, Louis would swear he could hear a pin drop after his speech. No one seems to have any more questions, if their shocked expressions are anything to go by, and for that he’s relieved.

He doesn’t bother looking at the security guards again—his speech wasn’t necessarily professional nor polite.

This isn’t in his job description anyway.

“Also, I’m twenty-one,” he deadpans, pointedly glaring at the guy who called him a child—who’s now blushing furiously. “And it’s time for you all to get out.”

That’s all it takes for everyone to sprint out of the venue, and just in time as the wind and rain pick up.

Louis himself takes that as his cue to run toward the other end of the stage, fear of the storm coming back at full force as he’s surrounded by a metal fortress.

He jumps off the platform, completely forgoing the stairs in his haste. Once he’s out of the line of sight of hundreds of people, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Could’ve gone worse.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s met with the unimpressed look from Jayme John.

His food is nowhere in sight.

Louis waits for him to say something, but when he stays silent, he rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Couldn’t have been nicer, eh?”

Louis turns around, measuring the distance he’ll have to run to get out of the rain and into the employee area once he’s out from the protective tarp of the stage. “This wasn’t in my fucking job description.”

“Clearly.”

Louis’ shirt feels heavy on his back, especially with how thick the material is. In a swift movement, he rips the polo over his head, leaving only his black tank top—which is better for a multitude of reasons, if you ask him.

He throws his polo to the side. He probably won’t be needing it again anyway. “Right then. It’s truly been lovely chatting with you.”

And then he’s sprinting out and toward the employee area near the opposite side of the stage.

All in all, it’s only a thirty-second run, but that’s more than enough for Louis to be soaked from head-to-toe. He reaches the front doors to the trailer panting, and he’s about to squeeze past security when he’s stopped by a guard he hasn’t met yet.

“Pass?”

Louis reaches in his back pocket easily, but when he feels nothing and comes back empty-handed, he freezes.

Tentatively, he feels over his other back pocket.

Empty.

His front pockets.

Empty.

Around his neck.

Not there.

“Uh,” Louis starts, dragging out the end of the word and laughing awkwardly. The security guard doesn’t even flinch. “One moment.”

Louis sprints back out into the rain, heading back toward the stage where he threw his polo. His heart is racing, and not from the running.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles to himself, slowing down to a brisk walk as he reaches where he was just five minutes earlier. “Come on, you better fucking be here.”

The storm isn’t lightening up, if anything, it’s getting stronger, but Louis doesn’t care. He needs to find the pass. It must have come off when he took off the polo, because he certainly had it when the guards started pushing him on stage.

The pass is nowhere to be seen when he gets back to the stage.

Neither is his polo.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis breathes out, eyes scouring every inch of the ground for that stupid yellow lanyard.

This, Louis knows for a fact, is not good.

It is not good at all.

Slowly, he takes a step back, retracing the route he’s taken in his mind. It could be on the other side of the stage. Maybe. Could’ve gone missing when he was pushing against the guards? Maybe they accidentally pulled it off?

It’s here somewhere. It had to be here somewhere.

Louis is about to sprint back out, in the hopes that he dropped it during the run, when he crashes into another body. It doesn’t take him much time to realize it’s the guard from earlier.

“No pass then?” the guard asks, voice void of emotion.

Louis opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He points back toward the stage nervously, “Well you see, I was actually—”

“Right, okay,” the guard interrupts, grabbing Louis’ arm roughly. “Outside you go. This area is off limits, no trespassing.”

What. “Wait, wait, hold on a minute, I’m not trespassing!” Louis says incredulously, tugging his arm back. The guard doesn’t budge. “I’m fucking working the event!”

The guard rolls his eyes, dragging Louis back into the rain. “Right.”

Louis’ mouth drops open as he points frantically back at the stage. “I’m serious!” he yells against the storm, struggling against the guard’s grip. “I was just on the fucking stage! I just told everyone to get out!”

“Listen, kid–”

“I’m not a kid, for fucks sake,” Louis groans.

“Listen,” the guard repeats, quickening his pace as Louis follows helplessly. “No pass, no entry. I can’t do anything about that.”

“I have literally been here since seven this morning, can’t you make an exception?” Louis nearly begs, the back exit they used to come in this morning now only a few feet away.

“If I did that, then I’d have to—”

“—Do that for everyone. Yeah, yeah, I know the saying,” Louis mutters, rolling his eyes. His lashes stick to his skin when he opens them again. “You seriously don’t believe I work here?”

The guard pushes the door open, “You don’t even have on the polo, kid.”

And then Louis is being pushed out of the amphitheater and the gate is shut in his face.

He stumbles as he tries to regain his balance, glaring hard at the locked gate and ten-foot tall fence preventing him from getting back in.

“I’m twenty-one, asshat!” Louis screams in the hopes the security guard hears from the other side, raising his arms helplessly.

Fuck.

He runs a hand through his fair, flinching when he sees a flash of light and hears a clap of thunder.

Right. So he’s just got kicked out of his job with no way of getting back in. His phone is in his locker, Niall is still inside, and his car is at some towing company on the other side of the city.

Louis should have paid those fucking tickets.

With a groan, he leans his forehead against the cool gate of the amphitheater. The rain smacks his neck, the weight of the droplets prickling his skin. He needs to get back inside, and preferably before the worst of the storm hits.

The question is how.

“Come to work with me, Lou,” he mutters, imitating Niall bitterly as he makes his way over to the curb and sits down. “You’ll pay off those tickets in no time.”

He knows for a fact Niall’s inside the employee trailer right now, maybe wondering where he is. Probably eating a fucking hot dog.

Louis sighs, burying his face in his hands. He’s still fucking starving.

It truly can’t get worse. Which, in the grand scheme of things, seems to be an upside.

“Hey!”

Louis ignores the voice, certain he’s imagined the faint voice in the storm.

“Hello? Are you alright?!”

Slowly, Louis raises his head, looking around the street slowly, a little less convinced that he made it up.

He sees a car.

Then he sees headlights turn on.

As the car starts to creep forward at a snail-like pace, Louis sighs deeply.

“Getting kidnapped,” he says to himself flatly. “Alright universe, I suppose you proved me wrong. It can in fact, get worse.”

When the black Prius stops right in front of Louis, he doesn’t even back away.

The window rolls down slowly, the hum fighting against the roar of the wind.

If this is truly the end of Louis’ life, if he’s about to be kidnapped and murdered, well...it’s quite anticlimactic if he’s being honest.

Louis is around ninety percent sure he’s about to have a bag thrown over his head when instead, a mop of curls being held by a bandana, pops into his line of vision. Along with a pair of green eyes and a sheepish grin on a pair of full, red lips.

Louis simply stares.

The man’s grin widens as Louis sits in silence. “Hi? I, uhm, saw you get kicked out and just—are you alright?”

Louis stays completely still as he contemplates his situation—as he stares at his potential kidnapper.

He can already hear his mom’s yelling and the ethical dilemmas of finding this man, who is fully capable of throwing a bag over Louis’ head at any moment or hitting him with a crowbar, attractive.

Very attractive. Pretty. Cute. A bit mesmerizing. All of the above.

His mother would definitely be yelling at him.

On Louis’ long list of things to never do, finding his potential kidnapper to be attractive should definitely be at the top.

Liam would also kill him.

Niall would never let him live this down.

Louis is never living this day down anyway, to be fair.

The stranger furrows his eyebrows as Louis continues his (probably strange, at this point) staring, with his mouth slightly agape. “Seriously, are you alright?”

Louis is still trying to figure that out.

Thankfully, his mind finally decides to catch up to the rest of his body and he shuts his mouth quickly, swallowing the bits of rain that snuck their way into his mouth (fucking hell). He leans toward the window, close enough so he doesn’t have to scream against the storm.

“Fuck, God, I’m sorry,” he stammers, shaking his head. Snap out of it, Tomlinson. Harry raises an eyebrow. “Uhm—hi?”

The stranger bites his lip to hold back another grin. He has a nice smile.

Snap. Out. Of. It.

“Hi. Are you alright...uhm…”

“Louis Tomlinson,” Louis says quickly, getting up.

Giving his name out to strangers, to a potential kidnapper.

Oh, Liam is definitely going to kill him.

“Louis,” the stranger repeats with a smile, nodding his head. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Harry,” he says kindly. “Harry Styles.”

Harry Styles.

A kidnapper wouldn’t give their full name though, would they?

One point for Harry and the Prius.

“Harry,” Louis repeats with a similar smile, running a hand through his wet hair. He forgot it was still storming for a minute. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Same to you,” Harry repeats, making Louis chuckle. He winces, “Right, I just said that, didn’t I?”

Louis only laughs, and after a moment, Harry joins him.

“Right, well, seriously, are you alright Louis? I mean, I just saw you get kicked out of the back and then you just sort of sat down here and—oh God. I sound like a creep, don’t I?” Harry’s eyes widen. “God, I promise I’m not here to kidnap you or anything, I actually go to U-dub? Starting my second year in August...not that that should make you any less weary, it’s just that...well it should for me?” he rambles on nervously. “Clearly not helping my case here, but uhm, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay because the storm’s going to get pretty bad and I just...okay, now I’m definitely rambling. Sorry about that. But are you alright?”

Louis doesn’t even know how to respond. So naturally he continues his examination of Harry.

Maybe he should stop referring to Harry as a kidnapper.

Because he’s now one hundred percent certain the U-dub sophomore isn’t even capable of hurting an ant.

That’s one weight off of his shoulders at least.

“I’m fine, yeah,” Louis starts, a small smile playing on his lips as Harry picks on his—a nervous habit most likely. “I was working the concert actually, lost my clearance pass at some point during the storm though.”

“So they kicked you out?”

“So they kicked me out.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “That’s...quite fucked, actually.”

"You’re telling me. My phone’s in there.”

“And your keys?”

“My what?”

“Your car keys?” Harry clarifies. “I’m assuming that’s why you’re just sitting out here.”

Oh.

Louis purses his lips, nodding. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Right,” Harry says, drumming his fingers against his steering wheel.

A silence washes over them—only the sound of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder in between them. Louis feels like Harry’s about to drive away and leave him alone once again when he hears a deep voice.

“Look Lou—is it alright that I call you, Lou?” Harry asks curiously.

Louis shrugs.

Harry hums. “Listen Lou, the radar doesn’t look great. The worst of the storm hasn’t hit yet. I know the concert is delayed and you’ll probably be able to get in eventually...but you don’t have anything to protect you from the storm.”

“Stating quite the obvious here, aren’t you Haz?” Louis pauses. “Can I call you Haz?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” Harry replies immediately.

Louis smirks.

It’s at this point, that Liam would go from killing Louis to joining Niall in never letting him live this down.

“Anyway,” Harry continues, blushing once he realizes what he said. “At risk of sounding like a creep again, I’m going to ask anyway. Do you want to just wait out the storm with me? I mean, it’s not much, but it’ll definitely keep you dry.”

Louis is almost certain the shock that’s on his face isn’t hidden as well as he thinks it is. It almost sounds like Harry’s playing a sick joke on him. That is until he gets a better look at the sincerity in Harry’s eyes, the nervous drum of his fingers against the steering wheel, and the bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’d really let me stay in your car?” Louis asks hesitantly. “Soaking wet?”

“Of course, you’re no good out here. You’ll get sick.”

“But you don’t even know me. I could be the kidnapper.”

Harry shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just get in.”

“I don’t even know you,” Louis continues lightly, his hand already inching toward the door.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, but I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

Louis’s stomach flutters.

...For some bizarre reason. Odd. Very odd.

“Only if you’re sure?”

Harry raises an amused eyebrow. “Would you rather sit on the curb in the middle of the storm? Get struck by some lightning?”

Louis hops into the passenger seat without a second thought.

⸻

The storm does in fact, get worse.

And Louis is in a car with a stranger, but really, it was his best option.

He thinks.

“So...” Harry drags out, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat of the rain. Louis rolls his head against the seat to look at him. “Crazy weather, isn’t it?”

They were able to make it to the end of the street before having to stop (“Can you go a bit faster?” “Would you like to crash into the gate?”), the rain coming down far too fast to see through the windows. The wind isn’t making matters much better.

“Absolutely insane,” Louis says flatly, suppressing the shivers that are just waiting to run through his body. The heat is on high, but having been outside for a majority of the storm and sitting in his wet clothes is still not pleasant. “I honestly didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

Or to stay this bad.

“How long do you think it’ll be before everyone’s allowed back in?” Harry asks, eyes squinting as he tries to get a good look out the front window. It’s completely distorted from the rain, even the windshield wipers aren’t able to keep up with it.

The question doesn’t register right away.

Louis’ eyebrows scrunch together as he looks at Harry’s completely unassuming face.

Frankly, he’d be shocked if the concert happened at all.

His eyes dart back out the window, to the grey and the blur of buildings downtown. “To be honest, I don’t think we’ll be going back in at all.”

Harry meets his eyes immediately, face blank.

“Did they tell you that inside?” he asks. “Did they say it was probably getting cancelled?”

“Well no, but—”

“So it hasn’t been cancelled then.”

Louis pauses. “I guess not? Not yet anyway, but it’s bound to happen.”

“So they’ll let people back in. The concert is still on.”

The storm is loud, but it isn’t loud enough to where Harry can’t hear what he’s saying.

“We are in the middle of a typhoon,” Louis says slowly, water dripping from his hair onto the middle console.

God, he wishes he had a towel.

“It’s gotta end at some point though, yeah?”

“Who’s to say,” Louis says flatly.

“No, it’s happening.”

“I mean—”

“It’s not going to get cancelled,” Harry says simply, adjusting himself in the driver’s seat.

Louis’ eyes follow him as he turns up the heat to its highest setting. “I mean, obviously I hope not. But odds are—”

“Are you hungry?”

Fifteen minutes into knowing Harry Styles, Louis doesn’t know much. They’ve really barely spoken since he hopped into the car. He does know however, that Harry is not one for debating. At least not when he's wrong.

Louis could work with that.

Harry looks completely calm as he turns to Louis with a raised eyebrow, waiting for a response. To be honest, Louis’ brain is still trying to catch up on the subject change.

It may be a bit frozen from the rain, lagging just a bit. That should be a bit concerning, but he won’t dwell on that. It should be okay.

“Starving,” he eventually says, letting Harry live in his ignorant bliss about the concert for a bit longer. “Haven’t eaten all day.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t give us any breaks back inside.”

Harry pauses. “Is that legal?”

“Apparently we missed them. Apparently.”

“Ah. So vaguely legal then.”

Louis’ mouth twitches. “Vaguely.”

Harry hums, putting the car in drive, but leaving his foot on the brake. “So. Rain’s lighting up a bit.” Barely. “What are you in the mood for?”

Louis looks warily out the window. “Are you sure you’re alright to drive?”

Harry bounces his knee up quickly, probably thinking it’s out of sight from Louis, or that he isn’t paying attention to the nervous habit. He’s wrong. “Probably.”

Right.

“Uhm,” Louis starts, slowly grabbing his seatbelt and tightening it. “I could go for some Taco Bell?”

Harry grins, immediately turning the windshield wipers onto its highest setting. “A man after my heart. Taco Bell, it is.”

“I’ve gotta be honest,” Louis starts with a smile. “Only thing I’m after right now is a Chalupa box. You could be a close second for getting me to it though.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Harry teases, letting out a quiet laugh as he starts the drive to the nearest drive-thru.

Louis turns toward the window to hide his own smile, ignoring the odd feeling in his chest.

He’s still freezing, so that’s probably it. Obviously.

Louis prides himself in being self aware. Which is why he has no trouble saying that he’s already taken a completely harmless liking to Harry already, but that’s all.

It’s been twenty minutes, of course that’s it. He isn’t Niall, who falls in love with a girl in line for the waffle maker at the dining hall. And he certainly isn’t Liam who is still pining over his lab partner from freshman year.

He should really invite Zayn over to their flat once classes start again.

The point is though, Louis is the happy medium.

Harry’s cute and his personality isn’t bad. Flirting happens. It’s a natural occurrence and this is a completely reasonable response. Obviously.

There are worse situations to be caught in during a freak storm in the middle of a concert.

If they’re going to where Louis thinks they’re going (though he really can’t tell by his surroundings, and sure as hell doesn’t know how Harry can), they’ve still got a decent amount of time before reaching the nearest Taco Bell, maybe double that if they want to reach it safely. Harry’s music is only a faint hum against the rain, but the silence isn’t terrible nor is it awkward.

That doesn’t mean Louis likes it.

“What are you studying at U-dub?” he eventually asks, watching as Harry leans forward to get a better look out the window. He’s a man on a mission.

“Poli sci and international studies,” Harry replies easily, visibility relaxing when the rain tampers down just a little bit.

Louis immediately perks up. “Any idea what you want to do with that yet?”

“That’s the question of the hour,” Harry sings. “And of most family gatherings.”

Louis can relate heavily to that.

“Do you know Niall Horan by chance?” he asks, switching gears before Harry can dwell on his future any longer. He can worry about that once the term starts.

Harry pauses, brows knitted together in contemplation. “Blonde?”

“Fake blonde,” Louis corrects sagely. “But yes.”

“I think I had econ with him last year,” Harry says. “He was always emailing the class about group study guides for the exams. Why do you ask?”

“He’s one of my roommates,” Louis says with a shrug. “Also an international studies major. Good to know he’s still organizing those study guides.”

“You’re familiar with them then?”

Louis chuckles. “I’m the reason he actually contributes to them now. I called him out on it in calculus my sophomore year. The fucker would just have everyone put in the answers for him.”

Harry giggles, shaking his head. “I hate to tell you this, but he’s still doing that.”

Louis’ mouth drops. “No!”

“Yes,” Harry laughs, making a turn around the block. “He’s not very subtle about it on the Google doc.”

Louis shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest in faux disappointment. He owes Liam five bucks.

“You’re a student at U-dub too then?” Harry asks, eyes trained on the road. Louis catches the glint of hope in his voice.

Louis hums. “I’ll be a senior this term, studying education.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows. “Getting awfully close to putting that degree to use.”

“Fuck, don’t remind me,” Louis groans, sinking in his seat. “At least until August, yeah?”

“Oh come on,” Harry draws out, grinning. “You’ve got to be at least a little excited.”

“Ignorance is bliss, as they say.”

“Any idea what you want to do post-grad?”

Louis supposes that’s one of the good things about his major. He absolutely knows what he’s doing after graduation, and he’s known since his first class his freshmen year.

“Teaching, definitely."

“Any grade in particular?”

“High school,” he says just as quickly, a smile forming on his lips. “I eventually want to be a professor, but for now, high school. Freshmen or sophomores if I can.”

Harry whistles. “That’s bold. I’m impressed.”

Louis shrugs sheepishly, trying to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. “I think I can do some good, show them it’s alright to be themselves. Fourteen and fifteen are tough years.”

“They are,” Harry agrees. Louis barely registers that they’re turning into Taco Bell.

“I’m glad they’ll have someone like you to teach them.”

Louis narrows his eyes playfully. “You don’t even know me, Styles.”

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

Louis bites his lip, shrugging innocently. “I didn't say that.”

Harry only manages a smirk before his face morphs into confusion as he stares ahead. “Uhm.”

Louis tilts his head to the side momentarily before facing the front, searching for whatever it is that has Harry rendered silent.

It doesn’t take him long to find it.

The drive-thru is closed.

Not only is it closed, but it’s completely blocked off by a branch.

“Right,” Louis says slowly, nodding. “That’s nice.”

Fucking hell, how hard is it for him to get some food?

“Maybe they’re open inside?” Harry asks, only slightly grimacing at a flash of lightning as he parks the car.

Louis looks in between his seat and the lit up dining area of the Taco Bell.

His stomach has almost most certainly eaten his liver by now.

“I’m already drenched, so might as well,” he mumbles, amping himself up for another sprint outside in the storm. They’re not too far from the door, at least.

“You’ve got this?” Harry says wearily, trying (and failing) at sounding optimistic.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “You’re not coming?”

“Absolutely not,” Harry breathes out, eyes widening slightly. At Louis’ silence, he clears his throat. “I mean, I’m not hungry? So I can just wait here? I’d uhm, I’d rather wait here I think.”

Louis contemplates pressing Harry further, but frankly, if he doesn’t get something in him soon he will be biting Harry’s arm.

“Alright then. You sure you don’t want anything?”

Harry nods. “I’m good. Really.”

Louis takes a deep breath before unlocking the door. He wraps his fingers around the handle, and holds on just for a moment. When he looks back at Harry, he’s only met with a goofy smile and a thumbs up.

He will never forgive that techie for stealing his hotdog.

As quickly as he can, he sprints toward the door. The rain sends a cold shock through his system the second he steps out of the car, and he shivers immediately. He was already soaked, but mixed with the puddles he’s splashing through and the water seeping through to his socks—it calls for a very unhappy Louis.

Who is thoroughly regretting leaving the warmth of Harry’s Prius.

Eventually, after what feels like hours (but was only forty-five seconds max), Louis reaches the inside of the Taco Bell. The fluorescent lights provide him some comfort, in that it isn’t like the gates of Hell have opened above him and are pummeling ice cold buckets of rain on him.

He orders his food quickly, waiting anxiously for it to be ready so he can sprint back to Harry’s car and eat. Any hopes of not shaking from the rain are out of the window, and there’s absolutely no way he’ll be waking up tomorrow morning without a cold.

The moments after his food is brought out to him are a blur. The only thing on his mind at this point is getting back to Harry’s car and making sure his food stays as dry as possible, even if that means keeping it under his shirt and shielding it with body.

He will not be eating a soggy Chalupa.

Harry’s car is in the same place he’d left it, headlights giving Louis a clear pathway to make his run back. He steps through the same puddles, splashes the same amount of water into his shoes just like before. It’s inevitable really, and at this point, he can’t seem to care much about it given how drenched he already is.

He doesn’t even bother knocking on the window once he reaches the Prius. He just frantically pulls on the handle until Harry gets the message and unlocks them.

It takes about two seconds for Louis to dive into the car, throwing the bag of food into Harry’s lap without a second thought before slamming the door shut behind him. He’s breathing heavily, wiping the water out of his eyes so he can see again.

But most importantly, he’s warm.

“Holy shit, you’re soaked.”

Louis looks at Harry through the long pieces of hair stuck onto his forehead and over his eyes, chest rising quickly.

“You don’t say.”

Harry shrugs sheepishly before reaching into his backseat. Louis watches quietly as he rummages through the packed area, but he really can’t see anything through his hair. Though he can’t be bothered to fix it.

“Alright, so,” Harry starts, dragging a few things back into the front with them. He throws Louis a blanket. “Use this as a towel. It’s actually uhm, a fuzzy blanket? But it should do the trick, I think. May not be too absorbent though…oh! And take off your shirt.”

“Take off my what?”

Harry holds up a sweatshirt.

Louis looks up at him in complete shock, but complies. Slowly, he dries himself off as best as he can, shivering once the wet tank top is off his body and his bare skin hits the air.

He looks up at Harry curiously, but he’s completely engrossed in the motion of his windshield wipers. Huh.

Once Louis is as dry as he can possibly be, he grabs the sweatshirt hesitantly. Harry lets go of it easily, only offering a small smile when Louis shrugs it on and sighs in relief.

Fuck, it’s warm.

“Thank you,” Louis says quietly, finally pushing his hair back against his forehead, it doesn’t take much for it to stay in place. “Really, thank you so much. For everything.”

“It’s really not a problem, Lou,” Harry shrugs, pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. “Really, I should have offered you some dry clothes the second you got into the car.”

“Romantic one, aren’t you Haz.”

Harry smirks, only turning to Louis briefly. “I really just want to keep my seats dry.”

Louis throws his head back in a laugh, playfully hitting Harry’s arm as giggles rack his body. Once they both settle down, he takes the bag from Taco Bell and places it in his lap, the smell already filling the space within the car. Louis is ninety percent sure this is what heaven smells like.

“Pull over,” he instructs Harry, nodding over to a nearby parking lot he can make through the rain. “I got you something.”

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“And I didn’t believe you,” Louis teases, jerking his head over to the parking lot again.

Harry shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his face and that’s enough for Louis. Quickly enough, they’re parked outside of a shopping center, more toward the back where the cars are sparse. It seems like they’ve made it out of downtown, even if they’re only bordering it now.

Louis doesn’t even wait for Harry to take off his seatbelt before he’s passing him his Chalupa box and opening his own.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry says with a smile, but he opens his meal almost immediately.

“It’s the best thing on their menu, I wouldn’t leave you hanging dry.”

“How sweet of you,” Harry coos, batting his eyelashes dramatically.

Louis rolls his eyes in response, but there’s a smile on his face as he does it.

⸻

"I cannot believe you haven't been to a football game yet." 

"To be fair, we sucked last year," Harry deadpans, taking another bite out of his taco. "I don't think I missed much." 

"Oh come on, Harry," Louis groans, but there's a smile on his face as he does it. "Everyone knows you go for the experience, not the actual game!" 

"Spoken like a true education major, Lou." 

Louis responds by throwing a crumpled up wrapper in Harry's face, which he dodges easily. They erupt into a fit of laughter after that, and really, Louis can't even be bothered to figure out why at this rate. 

They started their meals in silence, only a few comments here and there about how good the food was and how Louis can finally feel something other than hunger now. It was peaceful, but Louis could only look at Harry for so long before wanting to know more—more about his time at U-dub, what he liked to do on the weekends, more about him, really.

So he asked him about everything. He asked him about freshmen year, about where he grew up, and if he had been to any games. He asked him about his family and his likes and interests, and in return, Harry asked the same things. 

The conversation flowed smoothly, so completely natural that it caught Louis off guard when he realized he'd only known Harry for about an hour at this point. 

It didn't catch him off guard when he realized he'd like to get to know him after today though.

So he has a small crush. Sue him. 

Once they're both nearly done with their food and have settled down from their laughter, Louis takes a moment to listen to the rain and the soft sound of Hozier playing through Harry’s speakers.

It only dampens his mood a little bit when he realizes the storm hasn’t subsided at all, and Hozier is supposed to be on stage in thirty minutes.

It seems that Harry’s thinking the same thing as his eyes dart between the darkening night sky, the rain falling into the light of his headlights, and From Eden playing through his bluetooth. His bottom lip is in between his teeth, eyebrows slanted forward in contemplation and worry.

Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t feel similarly.

“You know you’d probably get a refund, right?” Louis says quietly, balling up the last wrapper of his food before tossing it back in the bag. Harry only purses his lips. “Maybe he’d even reschedule.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not about that.”

“I mean I’m sure if you’d want your money back—”

“I don’t have a ticket.”

Louis pauses.

What?

“You don’t…” he starts, tilting his head to the side. He looks at where he’s sitting, and then at Harry. “But you were at the venue and you—what?”

Harry lets out a quiet laugh. “Tickets were sold out by the time I got on the website. You know how he added the Seattle date last minute?” Louis nods. “I didn’t expect him to, so I wasn’t on the lookout.”

“But you were at the venue.”

“I was,” Harry nods. “He’s one of my favorite artists, there was no way I was missing that concert, you know? Seeing him is on my bucket list, has been since 2015. So I parked outside the venue. Thought I’d be able to hear it from there.”

“Could you?”

“Oh yeah, I heard that guy kicking everyone out loud and clear,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “He was a bit of an ass, don’t you think?”

“That was me.”

Harry basically guffaws, causing Louis’ mouth to twitch.

“Well in that case,” Harry laughs nervously. “The audience absolutely got what was coming to them. They were being ridiculous.”

Louis hums, smirking at Harry's flustered expression. “Nice save.”

Harry manages a wink.

“But yeah,” he continues, sighing a bit as he looks out into the barely lit parking lot. “I was ready to roll my windows down and listen from my car. Sure it would’ve been nice to be inside and in that atmosphere, but it’d be better than nothing.”

“Any song in particular you wanted to hear?”

Harry smiles before nodding toward the small screen on his console. From Eden is still playing—Louis had noticed right as the first chords of the song started.

“That song right there.”

“It’s a classic,” Louis comments softly.

“One of my all-time favorites,” Harry sighs, turning up the music a bit louder. “It was one of the first songs of his I heard and it’s just...I just love it. A lot. I was surprised to see he kept it on after—”

“—His tour in 2015,” Louis finishes with him.

Harry looks up at him in surprise, which only causes Louis to smile.

“I’m assuming he didn’t go anywhere near you either for that tour?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow.

Harry nods, dimples showing on both of his cheeks as he looks at Louis with his brightest smile yet. “Yeah, that’s why I couldn’t miss this show.”

Louis feels a heavy weight placed on his heart as he watches Harry’s shoulders slump in resignation.

“I’m sorry, Haz,” he says quietly, turning his head toward the dark sky, willing the rain to just stop.

“It’s not your fault.”

Louis sort of wishes it were though, only for the fact that he could provide a solution and maybe, get Harry to that concert. “Wish I could stop the rain though,” he says. “Because it’s certainly putting a damper on your plans.”

Harry only offers up half a smile, and the fact that he won’t deny that the concert is most likely getting cancelled only makes Louis more upset.

That just won’t do.

“Hey,” Louis says, placing a hand on Harry’s arm. He rubs small circles onto it, hoping it’ll provide some sort of comfort. When Harry doesn’t give an immediate response, he squeezes lightly and that most definitely grabs his attention. Louis smiles. “What else is on your bucket list?”

And just like that, Harry looks like a confused kitten with his head tilted slightly.

“What?”

“You said seeing Hozier was on your bucket list,” Louis clarifies. “What else is on it?”

“Why?” Harry asks slowly.

Louis shrugs, biting his lip nervously. “Might as well cross something else off today, yeah?”

And really, Louis hopes he isn’t crossing a line here. He hopes that Harry is open to it, because if there’s even one thing he’s learned about the curly-haired boy that offered him his car as protection from a storm and drove him to get food, it’s that he deserves good things.

The goofy smile that appears on Harry’s face is enough of an answer for Louis.

“I’ve always wanted to conquer a fear of mine.”

Seems simple enough.

“Quite ambitious of you,” Louis says, nodding impressively. “Can’t say the same for myself, you will never catch me feeding the birds at a pond.”

Harry lets out the most ridiculous cackle Louis has ever heard, and he’s not endeared. He’s not.

“We’ll see about that one day,” Harry smirks, and Louis tries not to think about the implication there. “But, it feels simple enough right now…”

Louis nods. “Right, what is it then?”

Harry goes to open his mouth, but immediately closes it shut. He grimaces a bit, and that only makes Louis suspicious.

“Harry?”

He doesn’t speak for another minute.

“To be completely honest, I’m a bit afraid to say it now.”

Louis narrows his eyes.

“It’s a bit ridiculous? Given the circumstances.”

“I’m starting to think that you’re actually a kidnapper again.”

“Lou, I’d be the worst kidnapper in history. I literally took you to Taco Bell.”

Fair enough.

Louis shrugs. “Fears are fears, we can’t help them. This is a judgment free zone. So what are you afraid of, Haz?”

“That’s not it, Lou. It’s just...well, it’s just ridiculous. I don’t know.”

“C’mon, it can’t be that absurd. Especially considering where we are right now. Now if you were afraid of storms, that’d be one thing, but—”

Harry sinks down in his seat.

Louis’ mouth falls open.

“No.”

Harry grimaces. “Mhm.”

“No.”

“I told you!”

“Seriously?”

“Have you not felt like we’ve been on the brink of death this entire time? You’re going to sit here and tell me this isn’t terrifying?” Harry defends, pointing frantically at the window.

“I was outside for about ten minutes before you found me, I think I’ve become desensitized,” Louis reasons.

“Yes well,” Harry starts petulantly, turning away with arms crossed. “I haven’t.”

“But you’ve been driving me around this whole time!”

“Yeah, but I’m not out there!”

Louis looks at him with his mouth agape. “You’re seriously afraid of storms? You’ve been afraid of storms this whole time?”

Harry narrows his eyes. “You’re seriously afraid of birds?”

“This is not about me!”

Harry rolls his eyes, but lays back in his seat. “Yes, I’m afraid of storms.”

Louis nods slowly, trying to keep the smile off of his face as he looks at Harry. The nervousness while driving makes sense now. As well as a lot of other things.

“That explains why you didn’t get out of the car at Taco Bell then.”

“I really just didn’t want to get soaked then if we’re being honest. You looked miserable.”

Louis fixes him with a look, but when he’s met with equally nervous and excited eyes, he doesn’t think about the next thing his body does.

He opens his door.

Harry’s eyes widen immediately. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Rest in peace, warmth.

“We’re facing your fear,” Louis says simply before stepping out of the car. The rain has lightened up a little, but it’s still coming down hard enough for him to raise his voice. “Get out of the car, Harry!”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“Out!”

“He’s lost it. Oh my god, the water seeped into his brain.”

“Let’s go!”

“Seriously?”

“Come on now!” Louis yells, grinning from ear to ear as he takes a step back with his arms out.

Harry only spares him one last look of despair before he’s opening his own car door and slowly stepping out. Louis cheers loud enough to be heard from the other side of the car. Quickly, he runs over to Harry, not wanting to do this from opposite sides of one another. It’s not a surprise that he’s immediately met with Harry’s unamused gaze.

“Well?”

“It’s cold.”

“That’s the spirit!” Louis grins, grabbing onto Harry’s hands and pulling him out further into the parking lot.

Harry pretends to go reluctantly, but his grip around Louis’ fingers speak otherwise. Louis can barely see through the rain, only being able to make out Harry’s face in the storm, the rest of the parking lot and shops in a blur.

“See? This isn’t so bad, isn’t—”

A large crack of thunder stops his comment short, and pushes Harry directly into his arms.

“Fucking hell!” Harry breathes out, gripping onto Louis’ shoulder to center himself. He’s eyes are wide, fear and adrenaline prevalent as he looks in between the sky and Louis.

“There is no way in hell this is safe,” Harry says with a grin.

“A lot of things aren’t safe,” Louis counters, wiping his hair out of his eyes and holding onto Harry’s arms, which are now around his neck.

Harry only hums, nodding to himself as he looks at Louis with a small smile. “Daredevil then.”

Louis chuckles, tilting his head to the side. “What?”

“I’m adding that to the list of things I’ve learned about you today,” Harry smirks. “Gets kicked out of concerts, suspiciously doesn’t have a car.” Louis’ eyebrows shoot up and Harry throws him a knowing look. “Mhm, would definitely love that backstory one day, thank you. Anyway, a senior at U-dub, enjoys Taco Bell, is afraid of birds...and now, daredevil.”

“And what do you think about all of those things, Styles?” Louis hums, raising an eyebrow.

Or at least he tries to, but the rain is making him blink every second.

“I think,” Harry starts, dragging out the statement teasingly.

There’s a flash of lightning, but neither of them move from where they’re standing.

“You think?”

Harry pulls the soaked bandana out of his hair, shoving it into his back pocket before placing his hands around Louis’ neck.

Louis tries not to look visibly affected by that.

“I think it makes me want to learn even more things about you,” Harry says with finality. “Add a bit more to the list.”

“Think there’s more to add?”

“I know there is.”

If Louis’ cheeks weren’t fucking frozen, he’s pretty sure he’d be blushing. As it turns out though, he doesn’t think he’s capable of producing any sort of heat at the moment.

“Well, I think there’s more to know about you as well,” Louis says softly, or attempts to against the rain. “Sophomore at U-dub, cute curly hair, afraid of storms, Hozier’s number one fan...picks up strangers from the curb without a second thought even though they probably grew up being taught better than that.”

Harry throws his head back in laughter, shoulders shaking with it as he turns back to Louis endeared.

“Cute curly hair, hm?”

“Among other things,” Louis says breezily.

Harry grins. “To be fair, I’m quite glad I went against my mother’s advice back then. At least today, I am.”

“Are you now?”

Harry sighs, adjusting his grip around Louis’ neck slightly.

Louis is not completely focused on it. No, no, he is not. It’s just that Harry’s a lot closer than he was before, Louis’ fingers are now suddenly hooked around the belt loops on Harry’s jeans, and his heart is beating faster than it was when he sprinted out of the Taco Bell.

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

Louis bites his lip, trying to keep his eyes focused on Harry’s and not having them travel down any lower (for Christ’s sake, have some self control, Tomlinson), but their close proximity is making that more difficult by the second.

“So Harry,” he says quietly, swaying them back and forth by the sway of hands. “Anything else you want to cross off your bucket list?”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment, only looking at Louis with a mix of uncertainty and hope, eyes lit up in contemplation as he tries to read Louis’ face.

Louis does the only thing he can do, and that’s hold his breath.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain,” Harry says softly. There’re raindrops collecting on his eyelashes, piling up until the next time he blinks and they fall down his cheeks. He’s looking at Louis with his lip in between his teeth, fingers twitching at the nape of Louis’ neck nervously.

And oh.

Oh.

Louis lets out the breath he was holding, and he can’t even be surprised that it comes out a bit shaky. In reality, that was what Louis was hoping Harry would say, but did he actually expect him to?

No, not at all.

“Is it because The Notebook is your favorite movie?” Louis asks, only slightly teasing now as he wades through his shock.

Harry’s fingers still and he raises an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

Louis laughs, shaking his head slowly. When it quiets down between the both of them, only the sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the faint hum of Harry’s engine echoing around them, he continues.

“You’re not the only one with it on their bucket list.”

Harry grins. “It’s on your bucket list too, then?”

Louis pulls him in closer by the belt loops on his jeans, finally closing the remaining gap between them. Their breaths fan over one another, the hitch in Harry’s voice evident with their lips are only centimeters away from one another. His arms tighten around Louis’ neck, so Louis takes that as his cue to snake his around Harry’s waist.

“It is now,” Louis breathes out before pressing his lips softly against Harry’s.

He feels Harry smile into the kiss, their lips moving in sync with one another almost instantly. It lights Louis up in a way he hadn’t expected it to, the warmth in his body suddenly returning back at full force with the spark of it centered around Harry Harry Harry.

Harry pulls in Louis even closer by his neck, running his fingers through the back of Louis’ hair as Louis holds on for dear fucking life at Harry’s hips, the feel of his lips making him go weak at the knees.

It isn’t long until their kiss deepens, how Harry’s tongue swipes over Louis’ bottom lip, almost hesitantly. That is until he hears the small gasp escape Louis and he repeats the action more confidently, guiding their mouths open even wider.

Louis is surprised he’s still standing upright, the taste of Harry and the taste of the rain such a perfect combination he can barely think straight, doesn’t think he’d even want to if it meant not being able to kiss Harry like this at all hours of the day.

“I think we can probably cross this off our bucket lists a few times over,” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips, causing him to giggle.

Louis doesn’t know how much time passes when they finally move back from one another (only by an inch, mind you). Even then, it takes another few minutes for them to stop their mix of open kisses and pecks entirely.

What? Harry’s a really good kisser. Sue him.

Something Louis does realize however when they finally stop, catching their breaths with their foreheads pressed against one another, is that the rain has stopped.

“Huh,” Harry says with a smile, turning to look up toward the sky. “Would you look at that.”

Louis for one, is absolutely flabbergasted.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he says flatly, holding his arms out to feel even the faintest touch of rain. He doesn't.

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Louis only pinches Harry’s hip in response, causing a squeak to come out deep out of his throat.

“What time is it?” he asks, running his hands through his hair. At this rate, he’ll never be dry.

He’s surprisingly okay with that.

“Uhm,” Harry mumbles, feeling around his pockets. “One sec.”

He runs out back toward the car and Louis trails behind him at a slightly slower pace. He watches Harry open the door quickly, rummaging through his center console until he finally sticks his head back out of the car.

“Just past nine p.m.,” he says, looking at his phone. He looks up at Louis perched up on the hood of his car curiously. “Why?”

“Can I make a phone call?”

The look of confusion doesn’t leave Harry’s face, but he passes his phone anyway.

Louis takes it happily, immediately dialing in the phone number Liam forced him to memorize sophomore year after a rude awakening in a frat house.

“Who are you—”

Louis shushes Harry, placing a finger onto his lips.

Harry’s only response is to kiss it. The fucking sap.

The phone rings three times before Louis hears that familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“Niall? Hey, it’s me,” Louis says happily, pushing himself off of Harry’s car and taking a few steps away. He purposefully ignores Harry’s stare.

“Tommo! Where the fuck have you been, man?” Niall nearly screams. “I heard you got kicked out—well, I assume ya did when you didn’t come back. I tried to look for you outside, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Yeah uh, about that,” he drags out, looking back at Harry and flashing a small smile. “Got a bit occupied.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“The logistics do not matter, Neil,” Louis sighs, trying to sound agitated, but failing miserably. “Anyway, is the concert still on?”

“Sure is,” Niall chirps, and that’s exactly the answer Louis had been hoping for. “Clear skies for the rest of the night, should be getting started in about half an hour. The city extended the noise ordinance because of the storm.”

Louis grins, “Perfect.”

“You coming back then, Lou?”

“You’ve got my pass?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” Niall chuckles, his voice echoing through the speaker. He must be in the trailer then.

“Then I’m coming back,” Louis says with a smile. “Still have gotta pay off those tickets.”

Niall cackles through the line. “I know you never clocked out bro, I bet you paid them off hours ago. Just get your ass back over here, yeah?”

Louis only nods, even though Niall can’t see him through the phone. He takes that moment to look back at the car.

To look back at Harry—who’s perched up on the hood exactly where he left him. His curls are in damp waves now, but the bandana is back in his hair, even though it does nothing to tame it.

He looks gorgeous.

“Hey Niall,” Louis says softly, eyes meeting Harry’s almost immediately.

He’s shivering, but there’s a smile on his face—eyes crinkling nearly shut as he looks back over at Louis.

“Yeah, Tommo?”

Louis bites his lip, trying to hide his own ridiculously wide smile, but failing miserably. That only makes Harry’s grow bigger.

“Try and sneak an extra pass for me, will ya?”

⸻

“I can’t believe you got me in here,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ ear as they make their way through the backstage entrance.

Hozier’s set has just started, and there’s a full house just on the other side of the barricade. The music is thrumming in Louis’ chest and the crowd’s cheers are battling out with the speakers.

Louis is surprised they made it to this point, but he’s sure as hell grateful.

He squeezes Harry’s hand and flashes him a smile as they walk toward the pit, flashing their passes to the security guard as they make their way out.

It’s the same one that kicked Louis out.

A flash of recognition flashes through the guard’s face once they make eye contact with one another before his eyes narrow, Louis simply offers up his tightest smile and most innocent shrug.

It’s a shame he can’t do much more, but he has something more important on his mind.

He and Harry make it to the back of the pit just in time for the song to start. They have a perfect view from back here, and Louis tries to hold back his grin, but with Harry bouncing on the balls of his feet in pure excitement right next to him, it’s nearly impossible.

“Good spot?” he asks quietly, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist.

He comes in easily, tightening his hold on Louis’ hand. “The best,” Harry mumbles, planting a kiss on Louis' temple.

Louis doesn’t blush. He doesn’t.

“So I was thinking,” he starts shyly, tracing small circles into Harry’s hip. Harry nods for him to continue and he takes a deep breath. “Are you staying in Seattle for the rest of summer?”

Harry nods. “I’m headed home for a bit right before term starts, but I’ll be here, yeah. Why?”

“Fancy going to dinner?” Louis asks, biting his lip nervously. “One that isn’t Taco Bell, of course.”

Harry looks at him affronted. “But what if I do want another Chalupa box? What about then, Lou?”

Louis rolls his eyes, shoulders shaking with laughter as Harry joins him.

“Pick you up next Friday?”

“With what car?” Harry teases him, but of course, he nods anyway.

Louis shrugs sheepishly, planting a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll figure it out.”

He will most certainly have his car back on Friday. There is simply no other way around it.

Harry smiles. “It’s a date then.”

Louis doesn’t even try to deny the way his heart flutters at that.

“I hope you’re all here with someone special tonight,” Hozier says into the mic, causing an eruption of cheers from the amphitheater. “Whether it’s a friend or a lover, hold them close. Here’s a favorite of mine.”

As the first chords of From Eden start to play, Louis turns to watch Harry’s reaction. He watches as the golden hues from the stage lights cast across his face, across the wide smile on his face as Hozier sings the one song he’s been waiting to hear for nearly six years.

They’re swaying back and forth, hands still intertwined as Louis sees every reaction from Harry. The way he sings along softly to the lyrics, to the random cheers he’ll let out at a note change, to the way his eyes welled up with tears at the gravity of the concert, at finally being here even though they both thought they wouldn’t be. The way he bites his lip in excitement as the song comes to a close, clapping and cheering along with the rest of the crowd once the final lyric has been sung.

How his eyes look almost golden when he turns to Louis in excitement, cheeks rosy from the humidity and hair artfully unkempt in his bandana.

Harry’s rather gorgeous.

“Lou, you aren’t watching the show,” Harry chuckles, fitting his way under Louis’ arm as they lean against the back barricade of the pit.

Louis only smiles, vaguely hearing the beginning of Almost as the setlist continues. His eyes still trained on the outline of Harry and how right his body feels against him.

“This is on your bucket list, not mine,” he says softly, moving a loose curl out from Harry’s eye.

Harry only smiles, eyes darting down to Louis’ lips before flying back up.

“Anything we can cross off anytime soon?”

Louis sighs, placing his head on top of Harry’s and holding his hand in between.

“Maybe, but I’m rather enjoying this moment right here.”

...I wouldn’t know where to start

Sweet music playing in the dark

Be still my foolish heart...