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Xmas Xchange 2021
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2022-01-19
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Love Mail

Summary:

A week after moving into a new apartment complex, Harry discovers the mailman doesn’t seem to know the difference between numbers 23 and 28. He’s not too mad about it when he finds out just how handsome his neighbour from apartment 28 really is.

Or the one where Harry and Louis keep mistakingly receiving each other’s mail (and also fall in love).

Notes:

This fic was written as a gift for Annika as part of the 1d-library Xmas Xchange. I absolutely fell in love with this prompt and I really hope you enjoy this little fic (and also that you don’t mind the few Christmas mentions even though it’s now January)!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Harry frowned as he swung open the door to his mailbox to find it empty save for a lone football magazine. He didn’t remember signing up for any of those. His frown somehow deepened when he reached inside to pull it out and read who it was addressed to. 

Louis Tomlinson, apartment 28.

Shit, had the landlord given him the key to the wrong mailbox? Harry had only been moved into this new building for under a week, and this was the first time he’d gotten his mail since, so this turnout wouldn’t have surprised him all that much.

He quickly closed the door, a little relieved when he saw he indeed had opened the right one: number 23. This was probably just a simple mixup on the mailman’s part, then. He could deal with that.

Tucking the magazine under his arm, Harry locked up his mailbox and made a left to take the stairs up to the second floor. Up there, he passed by his own door and continued further down the hallway until he reached apartment number 28.

Harry hesitated for a split second before knocking. He hadn’t really had the chance to meet any of his new neighbours yet; what if this guy was a total dickhead? He quickly shook himself out of it, bringing his hand up to the wooden door to knock on it before he could change his mind about it.

It opened within seconds, and Harry’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp when his eyes fell upon the man on the other side. 

Louis Tomlinson, if the name on the magazine was correct, was nothing if not absolutely handsome. He looked casual but rugged in a white Adidas jumper with matching joggers, and had piercing blue eyes that had Harry go weak in the knees. His feathery brown hair was swept into a soft side fringe that Harry longed to run his fingers through.

“Can I help you?” the man asked with a chuckle, and Harry blushed as he realised he had just been standing there and staring at him without saying anything.

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. “I think the mailman must have made a mistake; I got your magazine,” he explained, holding up said magazine as evidence.

“Oh, you must be Harry then.” The other man was smirking as he said it, as if he was in on a joke Harry didn’t understand. 

“How do you know my name?” Harry asked defensively, feeling a little vulnerable. It certainly didn’t help that Louis seemed to find the situation ever so amusing.

Then, the other man reached to his right and produced a small stack of envelopes. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s gotten somebody else’s mail.”

Harry’s mouth fell open in realization, and he could feel his cheeks heat up again as the two men exchanged the wrongfully acquired mail.

“You should really switch to online billing, you know,” Louis teased as he handed over Harry’s pile. “This is a lot of unnecessary paper use.”

Harry relaxed a little at that. “I know, I know.”

“Right, well you go do that.” The other man continued his teasing even as he moved to close the door to his apartment. “Thanks for bringing my mail, Harry. I’ll see you around.”

Harry’s smile could probably be seen from the moon as he returned the sentiment. “See you.”

He really hoped he would.

***

It happened again two days later, and Harry internally cursed when he noticed the package he had retrieved from his mailbox was again destined for Louis. Damn it, he had really been hoping the new book he’d ordered would arrive today. At least it gave him an excuse to see Louis again.

The trek up to the second floor was starting to feel more familiar, and Harry didn’t hesitate this time before knocking on the door to apartment 28. 

Just like he had last time, Louis promptly answered, and Harry used all his willpower not to downright stare at him like he had two days prior.

“I’ve got something that belongs to you again,” he announced before handing the box over to Louis. “Is our mailman blind, by any chance?”

Louis laughed at his question, and all Harry could think about was how he wouldn’t mind that sound being the only thing he heard on repeat all day.

“No, he’s not blind,” Louis started with a slight tilt of his head. “He’s a very sweet old man, but he always mistakes 23 for 28, and vice versa.”

“Oh, this isn’t a new thing?” 

Again, Louis laughed, and Harry couldn’t believe how lucky he was to get to hear the noise again. “No, this has been going on for years. Nobody ever says anything, because we all love him and we don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh at how ridiculous that story sounded. 

“Laugh all you want.” Louis was smirking knowingly. “Once you meet him, you’ll see what I mean.”

“If you say so,” Harry conceded.

“In the meantime, you better get used to this face,” Louis said as he pointed to himself. “Because we’re going to see a whole lot of each other from now on.”

And oh was Harry happy about that. He certainly didn’t mind having to hand deliver a few pieces of mail a week if it meant he got to see Louis’ perfectly sculpted jawline and bright blue eyes again. 

In a moment of courage, he decided to say what was on his mind.

“Could be worse,” Harry stated with a wink. “At least you have a pretty face.”

The look of pure shock that crossed Louis’ features at his words made Harry beam, and he smiled smugly as he turned to return to his own apartment down the hall.

He wasn’t expecting Louis to add anything after that remark, but the other man managed to prove him wrong.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Louis shrugged with fake nonchalance. “I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing more of those curls, you know.”

It only took Harry about half an hour to get his heart to stop thumping in his chest after that.

***

Harry had just stepped out of the shower when he heard someone knock at his door. He cursed out loud at the unfortunate timing and hastily wrapped a towel around his waist before going to answer it.

He opened it just a crack and poked his head through the opening, being careful not to flash whoever was on the other side. He broke into a smile when he realized it was Louis, wide enough for his dimples to show.

“Hey Louis.” Harry called out to the other man, using his foot to hold the door ajar as he reached for Louis’ mail, which he had left on the kitchen counter when he came in. “I stopped by to drop this at yours earlier, but you must have been out, because no one answered.”

Harry could tell Louis was slightly affected by his partial nudity, and he waited for a snarky comment to come on the topic, but it surprisingly never did.

“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Louis explained, passing the latest issue of Harry’s favourite recipe magazine through the door’s opening. Harry’s mouth started watering simply looking at the cover, and he couldn’t wait to have a proper look at all the new recipes and mark the ones he wanted to try. 

“I didn’t know you cooked, Curly.”

Harry blushed at the nickname as he handed Louis his mail, just a pair of boring unassuming envelopes this time. “I’m alright.”

“Well, that chicken pot pie on the cover looks quite appetizing if I do say so myself,” Louis pointed out cheekily. “You should make it sometime and invite me over for dinner”

Louis looked smug once again, and Harry giggled at the other man’s bold proposition.

“I guess that could be arranged,” he said, playfully raising an eyebrow at Louis.

“Maybe put some clothes on for that, yeah?” Louis teased as he started turning away to get back to his own apartment. “It’s not polite to answer the door when you’re naked.”

There it was, that comment Harry had been waiting for.

“Cheers Louis,” Harry laughed. “Thanks for the etiquette lesson.”

***

“Please be in there, please be in there,” Harry repeated over and over as he got the key to his mailbox out of his pocket and jammed it in the lock. 

“Fuck,” he cursed when the door swung open to reveal it was empty, and Harry hit his head against the wall as realization sarted setting in.

He had been excited when he received an email notification saying his package had been delivered, but now that it wasn’t in his own mailbox, it could only mean one thing: it was in Louis’.

Not that he usually minded having to see the other man’s gorgeous face again to get his mail, but this package was different.

He hadn’t thought of the possibility of the box being delivered to Louis’ mailbox when he placed an order for some new nail polish, and he was now mentally kicking his past self for being so foolish.

What would Louis think of him now? Harry knew from ordering from that brand in the past that their packaging was very obnoxious and obviously girly, to the point that there was no way Louis would think it could be anything else. Harry personally thought it was very pretty, but that was besides the point.

And to think he was starting to feel the smallest bit of chemistry between them. That didn’t matter anymore, since Louis was about to discover he liked to occasionally wear nail polish and probably would be put off by it. Most people were, in Harry’s experience.

“Harry?” 

The younger man was startled when someone called out his name, and he realized he was still banging his head against the wall, out there for anyone to see. He stilled, brushing off the embarrassment that flooded his senses before looking up.

It was Louis. Fuck.

“You alright?”

No. He was not alright. Because Louis was going to open his mailbox in the next few seconds and he was going to find Harry’s package and decide he was a freak, and Harry wished the floor would swallow him whole right about now.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, because he couldn’t very well voice these particular thoughts out loud.

Louis frowned as he moved to open his own mailbox, clearly unconvinced by Harry’s answer. He didn’t even so much as flinch as he pulled out Harry’s bright pink package, checking the label before handing it over to Harry.

“Oh, this is yours,” he said. “Are you getting some Christmas shopping done for a sister or something?”

That would have been a great cop out actually, but for some reason, Harry’s mouth opened to speak before his mind could catch up to stop it.

“No, I-” he struggled to find the right words. “This one’s for me.”

“Oh cool,” Louis replied nonchalantly. “Nice to treat yourself once in a while.”

Louis winked at him. He actually winked. And all Harry could do was stand there, wide-eyed and silent.

“Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?” Louis spoke again after closing the door to his mailbox, a hint of nervousness in his voice Harry could barely pick up on. 

Harry nodded, breaking himself out of the trance he was in. “Yeah, is 7 p.m. okay?” 

“That’s perfect.” Louis broke into a grin and pointed to Harry’s still open mailbox. “Are you gonna close that and come up with me, or did you want to keep hitting your head against the wall all evening?”

He said it with an amused tone, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he was being when Louis caught him. He swung the metal door closed and pocketed the key, tucking his precious pink box under his right arm. 

“Actually, I think I’ve done enough head bangning for today,” Harry stated, feeling his cheeks heat up at Louis’ teasing. “Let’s go.”

***

Harry nervously drummed his fingers over the kitchen counter as he gave his living room and kitchen a once over.

Louis was coming over for dinner tonight, and everything had to be perfect.

The whole space was spotless, thanks to Harry’s slightly obsessive cleaning tendencies, and the delicious aroma of the homemade chicken pot pie he had placed in the oven a few minutes ago was starting to fill the air, making his mouth water slightly.

Louis had assured him he had been joking when he had pointed out the dish on the magazine’s cover the week before, telling Harry he’d be more than fine with something more simple, or even some takeout to save him the effort. But Harry was nothing if not an overachiever, so chicken pot pie they would eat.

His small dining table was set up beautifully, and Harry had debated lighting a few candlesticks to set the ambience, but had ultimately decided against it, afraid it would freak Louis out or make him look overeager.

He was startled by a knock at the door, and a quick glance at the oven clock revealed Louis was just on time. Impressive.

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal his company for the evening. Louis looked particularly dashing in a soft blue jumper that made his eyes seem even brighter than usual, if that was even possible at all. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, and Harry couldn’t help but think about how sinful his toned thighs looked in them.

“Come in.” Harry invited Louis in once he registered they’d been standing by the door a bit longer than would be normal because of his staring. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Smells heavenly,” Louis complimented as he stepped into the apartment, and Harry felt weirdly endeared by the fact that Louis was only wearing socks on his feet. “I brought some wine. Although now I realize I don’t even know if you drink.”

Louis’ face turned a soft shade of pink as he spoke, and Harry smiled as he realized the other man was just as nervous as him.

“Thanks for the wine,” Harry said gratefully as he took the bottle from Louis and got two wine glasses from the cupboard. “Looks lovely.”

Louis seemed to relax just a tad as Harry poured them each a serving before handing one of the glasses over to Louis.

“How was your day?”

For some reason, Harry was slightly taken aback by the simple question, and he took a sip of his wine to give himself time to think.

“Good, productive,” he said, humming pleasantly at the sweetness of the white wine. “Finished up my Christmas shopping for this year.”

“Already?” Louis' eyes were so wide Harry was afraid they’d fall out of his head. “It’s only the 11th.”

Harry chuckled at the other man’s strong reaction. “I like to be prepared.”

Louis smirked knowingly, and Harry moved to check on the chicken pie in the oven. 

“I haven’t even started mine yet,” Louis admitted, and it was Harry’s turn to look utterly surprised.

“You’re joking, right?” He glanced at Louis as he slid his oven mitts on before reaching in the warm oven to take their dinner out, happy to see the crust had turned a gorgeous golden brown colour. “You have to be joking.”

Louis laughed before sipping from his wine glass. “I like the chaos of last minute Christmas shopping.”

“Outrageous.” Harry shook his head in amused disapproval, carefully cutting up the pie to serve each of them a slice.

“You made this from scratch?” Louis looked incredulous when Harry put down their plates on the table. “It looks too perfect.”

Harry blushed at the praise he was receiving. “Made the pie dough myself and everything,” he bragged as he sat down across from Louis.

From this angle, the overhead lights cast a golden glow across Louis’ face, and Harry felt his heartbeat quicken slightly with how angelic the other man looked.

The moan that came out of Louis’ mouth when he tasted Harry’s food certainly didn’t help calm it down.

“Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve had a proper good meal like that,” Louis explained between bites. “This is incredible.”

“You don’t cook much?” Harry tried to contain his beaming pride at Louis’ compliments.

The older man scoffed at the question. “I’m shit at cooking. Nearly set my kitchen on fire a couple times. I can’t even remember the last time I ate something that wasn’t from the frozen section.”

“That bad?” Harry winced teasingly. “Maybe I’ll have to invite you over more often, then.”

“I’d like that.” Louis’ reply came without hesitation, and Harry couldn’t resist the smile that crept up on his face, glad the other man seemed to enjoy Harry’s company just as much as Harry enjoyed his.

The conversation flowed freely for the rest of the night, as did the wine, especially after Louis ran to his apartment to get a second bottle after they somehow managed to empty the first one between the both of them. Harry felt pleasantly surprised by how easy everything felt with Louis; they simply seemed to get one another on so many levels.

By midnight, the second bottle of wine was almost empty as well and Harry had turned into a giggly pile of goo on the couch where they’d moved to chat after the meal. 

“Right,” Louis stood, grabbing both of their wine glasses to take them to the kitchen sink. “I should probably go.”

Harry hoped his disappointment wasn’t too apparent on his face.

“Let me walk you back home,” he suggested with a smirk, amused by his own comment, given they lived on the same floor.

Louis chuckled, and he seemed just as amused as Harry when he turned to look at him again. “Harold, I live about five doors down the hall. I think I’ll be fine getting home by myself. You however,” he pointed to Harry where he was still sitting, giggling like a schoolgirl, “enjoyed that wine a bit too much.”

“Did not,” Harry argued, though his slurred words told a different story.

“We’ll see about that in the morning,” Louis said with a smirk as he moved towards the front door. “Thank you for dinner, I enjoyed it.”

Harry couldn’t help the dopey smile that crept up on his face at that statement. “Me too.”

Louis lingered by the door for a minute, and Harry realized belatedly that it’d have been a perfect opportunity for a goodnight kiss. When his body caught up with his brain, he rushed to stand, swaying a little from the sudden movement and the alcohol in his system.

“Woah there Curly,” Louis laughed a little as he finally cracked the door open. “Don’t make a mess of that pretty face, now.”

He was gone before Harry could even react.

***

With holiday preparations quickly ramping up, they didn’t manage to properly hang out again for the rest of the month. Harry was really busy at work with the holidays fast approaching, and Louis seemed to be in the same predicament, judging by the haste he seemed to be in whenever they briefly crossed paths.

Harry did, however, receive dozens of packages meant for Louis, which the other man assured him were Christmas presents for his multiple siblings. He had been slightly skeptical of the sheer number of them until Louis had finally shown him a picture of his comically large family, confirming he in fact had six younger siblings to buy gifts for! Harry couldn’t help but smile every time he opened his mailbox to one of Louis’ orders, since it gave him a reason to pay the other man a visit, no matter how short.

Two days before Christmas, he opened his mailbox to find a colourful hand drawn postcard reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS” in big clumsy letters. He smiled at the colourful picture, clearly drawn by Louis’ littlest siblings.

His hands were turning the postcard over before his mind could catch up and stop them. He felt slightly guilty as his eyes swiftly scanned over the text on the back, clearly written by one of the oldest sisters judging by how neat it was. “Can’t wait to see you on the 24th to celebrate, love you!”

Harry turned the card over again before he could read any more, but his mind was already running wild with the revelation that Louis’ birthday was the next day, and Harry hadn’t bought him a gift!

The reasonable part of his brain told him it was fine; Louis and him were only neighbours and Harry technically had no way of knowing when Louis’ birthday was. But the other part of his brain, the unreasonable one, had already won over and Harry was starting to panic thinking about going out to the shops this late before Christmas.

He chewed on one of his nails, pondering what he could do as he made his way upstairs and to his apartment. Going out to face the crowds of last minute shoppers was a possibility, but Harry quickly realized he had no idea what he would even buy for Louis anyway. That was out of the question, then. 

Harry sighed as he entered his flat, chucking the mail onto the kitchen counter before sitting in a heap on his worn down sofa. He really wanted to do something for Louis, but he just didn’t know what he could do with such little notice.

He sighed again as he reached for the TV remote, telling himself a simple “Happy Birthday, here’s your mail!” would have to do for this year. The Christmas special of Bake Off came on, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at the familiar and comforting show. 

An idea materialized in his head after a few minutes of watching, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it any sooner: he could bake something for Louis!

Harry instantly got up, striding to the kitchen and praying he had all the necessary ingredients to make some sort of sweet treat for Louis. Thankfully, he was fully stocked up, and he gathered all his supplies on the counter as he pondered exactly what to make. 

His eyes landed upon a bag of chocolate chips in his baking cupboard, and Harry decided gooey chocolate chip cookies would be the perfect option. Everyone loved them, right? 

He knew the recipe like the back of his hand by now, and he preheated the oven and quickly whipped up the sweet batter. He was just placing the trays in to bake when he suddenly started doubting himself.

What if Louis was basically the only man on Earth who didn’t like chocolate chip cookies? 

Harry debated against his own self in his mind, nervously drumming his fingers along the countertop as he overthought all of his ideas and decisions.

He decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and he pulled out his cupcake tins along with the necessary ingredients to make decadent chocolate cupcakes as a backup.

Three hours and a quick change of clothes to rid himself of his flour covered attire later, Harry was knocking on Louis’ door, carrying three tupperware boxes filled with various desserts, along with the postcard that had started this whole thing

“Happy birthday!” Harry exclaimed excitedly when Louis opened the door.

“Thank you,” Louis replied automatically before his usual smile turned into a frown. “How did you know?”

Harry smiled sheepishly as he handed his pile of treats over to Louis, the hand drawn birthday card sitting on top. “This may or may not have found its way into my mailbox.”

“I see,” Louis replied, quirking a brow up as he took the boxes of food from Harry. “So you baked up a storm for the occasion?”

“Well, first I thought I’d bake you some chocolate chip cookies,” Harry blushed slightly as he started telling the tales of his afternoon.

“Classic,” Louis quickly interrupted, eyeing up the desserts with interest.

“Right,” the younger man agreed. “But then I thought maybe you didn’t like those, so I made you chocolate cupcakes.” 

“Ooh, nice,” Louis commented, urging Harry to continue.

“And then I thought maybe there was a chance you didn’t even like chocolate at all, so I also made some shortbread.”

Louis looked stunned, standing in the doorway and looking at Harry with awe. “You made all of these yourself?”

“Of course.”

“For me?”

Louis sounded almost incredulous, and Harry nodded with a small smile, hoping Louis would appreciate the last minute gesture.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for Louis to promptly close the distance between the two of them to seal their lips in a passionate kiss. Harry squeaked in surprise as they made contact, but quickly melted into Louis’ touch, reciprocating the kiss and bringing one hand to rest on the other man’s cheek.

Harry felt as if he was flying when the two men eventually separated to get some air, and he was certain his dimples could be seen from space with how hard he was grinning.

“I’m guessing that means you like them?” 

Both men started laughing, and Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

“Harry Styles,” Louis said, wearing a dopey smile of his own as he looked at Harry with stars in his eyes. “You are incredible.”

***

One year later

Harry rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them up as he entered the toasty apartment building, thankful their landlord seemed to have cranked up the heating in the hall over the past few days. The air was frigid outside, and Harry already couldn’t wait to sit under a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate for the rest of the afternoon.

He smiled as he pulled out the key to his mailbox, jamming it in the door labeled with number 28. He had moved into Louis’ apartment just over a month ago now, after his own lease ended. The both of them had decided it’d make more sense to live together since they already spent most nights at each other’s places anyways. Harry still felt a little giddy every time he went to get the mail though, thinking about how those faithful mailboxes had been the reason they’d met one another a year ago.

He frowned as he realized they hadn’t gotten any of apartment number 23’s new tenant’s mail since the move. Had they gotten a new mailman since last month? If so, Harry wasn’t aware; he’d have to ask Louis about it. 

Harry reached into the mailbox to retrieve their mail, smiling when he pulled out the latest copy of one of Louis’ football magazines. He quickly made his way upstairs, his smile getting even wider when he realized Louis was home already; his shoes and coat haphazardly strewn about their shared entryway as usual.

He found his boyfriend in the kitchen, standing next to the stove where the kettle had just started whistling.

“You’re home! Just in time!” Louis gave him a warm smile as he took the kettle off the hob. “Thought you might want a hot chocolate. It’s so cold outside.”

Harry stood there for a second, his mouth dropping open in surprise as he watched Louis reach for his favourite mug in the cupboard to make him the hot beverage. “How did you know this is exactly what I wanted?” he asked as he stepped closer to wrap his arms around Louis’ waist from behind. 

Louis laughed softly, freeing himself from Harry’s embrace to hand the other man the steaming mug. “I just knew. You always drink some when it’s really cold like today.”

“Fuck, I love you.” Harry couldn’t help the wam feeling that spread across his entire chest at Louis’ words. The other man always made him feel like this; safe, loved and cared for, and Harry couldn’t believe how at home he felt with him after only one year.

They moved to the living room where they snuggled under a blanket to watch a movie. Harry hummed with satisfaction as he took the first sip of his creamy hot chocolate, made to absolute perfection. The film had barely started when Harry remembered his thoughts from earlier, and he turned to face Louis before speaking.

“Do we have a new mailman?”

“I don’t think so.” Louis’ face screwed up in a slight frown at the question. “Why do you ask, love?”

“We haven’t gotten any mail from apartment 23 since I’ve moved in here. Just thought it was a bit odd given how often our mail got mixed up before.”

Harry watched as Louis’ face drained of all colour as he spoke, and the other man’s eyes were wide with what could only be described as sheer panic.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Louis stumbled over his own words, trying to look normal. “Maybe he got some new glasses or something.”

“Louis,” Harry raised a brow up at him. “Why have you gone so nervous all of a sudden?”

Louis took a deep breath, avoiding Harry’s eyes as he spoke again. “IthoughtyouwerecutesoIaskedourmailmantomixupourmailsoI’dhaveanexcusetotalktoyou,” he said in one breath, faster than Harry had heard any man speak before.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Harry asked, not having understood a word that had just come out of Louis’ mouth.

“I saw you on the day you moved in, and I thought you were really hot,” Louis blushed as he started speaking again, at a more normal speed this time. “So I paid our mailman to mix up our mail so I’d have an excuse to talk to you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Harry had never seen Louis so flushed before, and he couldn’t believe the other man did something so ludicrous just to talk to him. “You’re crazy, you know? You could’ve just talked to me like a normal person.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” Louis teased, clearly relieved Harry didn’t seem downright mad about his actions. “And it worked, right?”

Harry smiled fondly. The more he thought about it, the cuter the gesture became in his mind. “It did, yes,” Harry said before leaning in to kiss Louis’ soft lips. “I love you.”

Notes:

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