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It was officialy one of the most uneventful New Year's Eves Louis had ever experienced.
After his well deserved victory in stuffing-his-face-with-pizza competition, he found himself cuddled with his best friend Harry, bundled up in in a hoodie and multiple blankets and completely absorbed in a furious match of FIFA.
Being so comfortable and sated, they only noticed it was nearly midnight because of the concerningly shrieking noises coming from downstairs and snapping them out of their bubble. Harry put his controller aside and stretched his back with a yawn.
"We should probably go downstairs" he murmured, poking Louis (who was still playing with his tongue sticking out and a ridiculously focused face, scoring goals easily as he didn't have an opponent - not that beating Harry was much harder) in his little tummy. When Louis didn't acknowledge him, Harry patted his arm. Still no response.
"Leeewis" whined Harry tiredly, pulling Louis by the sleeve of his (it was probably Harry's) oversized hoodie, "it's like ten minutes until New Year".
"So?"
"So, move your arse and come downstairs with me, I wanna wish your family a happy new year"
"But I don't wanna go" pouted Louis, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen, "I wanna stay here, with you"
Despite the flood of warmth in his belly, Harry didn't relent.
"Please? For me?" he batted his eyelashes, trying to pull as adorable face as he was capable of making and using his best puppy eyes. It seemed to work, because with an exaggerated sigh Louis rolled out of bed, bare feet meeting the floor.
"I'm so cold now, though" grumbled Louis, fixing his fringe aggressively. Moments later a certain curly haired boy was jumping into his arms with all his might. Louis caught him (he always did) and all of the sudden he had his arms full of gangly limbs and soft, strawberry-pizza-boy smelling body.
"I will always keep you warm" murmured Harry into the warm skin of Louis' neck and giggled distractedly "and now, peasant, carry me downstairs"
"As you wish, m'lady" laughed Louis, wrapping his hands under Harry's thighs. He'd had half a thought to grab Harry's butt instead, but decided against it, seeing as Harry was already squirming around and any kind of groping would probably make him fall down.
Louis straightened up and walked out of his room with Harry secure in his arms. Having placed the younger boy on the living room's carpet, he whispered "here you are, princess" and turned to his sisters, entirely missing the way Harry's cheeks and ears went pink, the way he ducked his head down and smiled blindingly at the floor.
"Hazzy" the youngest of Louis' sisters, Daisy, grabbed and tugged at Harry's jeans, wanting him to pick her up, and when he did, her tiny arms wound around his neck, "mom said it's only five minutes left to New Year, do you think there will be fireworks"?
"Of course, love, what fun would it be if there wasn't any?"
Daisy giggled happily, showing off her missing front tooth and wiggled out of his arms, running away, probably to share that information with her sisters.
Louis' mother started ushering them all outside, so after pulling on their coats, beanies and scarves they piled outside, into the dark, frosty night. Their breaths were swirling around in silver clouds and the sky was pitch black, not a single star to be seen. Somebody in the neighbourood was apparently having a wild party, because, even from the distance, they could hear the excited countdown: "17... 16..."
Harry was freezing, so, with an evil grin and a masterplan in his head, he sneaked up on Louis, wrapped himself around his middle and pressed his icy nose into the crook of Louis' neck.
"15... 14..."
"Jesus fuck" Louis let out a very manly squeal and turned around with murder in his eyes.
"Oops" grinned Harry innocently, and Louis' face softened a little at the sight.
"Hi"
"11...10..."
Louis stood up on his tip toes (5'9" my ass, Harry thought smugly) and rubbed their noses together in an affectionate Eskimo kiss. A rush of panic, familiarity, warmth and understandment flowed through Harry's brain and suddenly saying the thing he'd been feeling for quite some time out loud seemed crucial. He had to get rid of this weight in his chest before midnight, or he would never be able to.
"8...7..."
"Lou" "Haz"
They spoke in unison, and then giggled at the ridiculousness of this situation, but soon quieted down"
"I just wanted to say that I'm glad I get to spend this night with you, sweetcheeks" smiled Louis, "and I hope we can make it a tradition"
"5...4..."
A decision, clear and painfully obvious, appeared in Harry's head. He looked straight into Louis' blue, blue eyes, but before he could shape his thoughts into words, the night exploded with colors. But he didn't see any of them, because his eyes were closed. Because Louis was kissing him, kissing him with determination and slight desperation, like he was scared that Harry might not want him back (what an absurd thought) and Harry's eyelids must have slipped close somehow.
(Harry, not wanting Louis? He had spent an embarassingly significant part of his life pining after the bright boy. He was the reason for Harry's panicked, mental come-out at the age of 14.)
But let's focus in probably the most importatnt thing right now: Louis' cold, slightly chapped lips, softly covering Harry's. His small, cute hands, that were suddenly holding on to Harry's coat, bunching the fabric in his fists. His even cuter feet... Wait. Was Louis standing on the top of Harry's shoes? Honestly, Harry can't be blamed for the giggle that escaped his mouth when they parted to take a breath.
"What?" asked Louis, pretending not to blush.
Harry just looked down and laughed again. Louis followed his line of sight and frowned, swatting his arm.
"It's not my fault that you're a fucking giant" Louis glared at him, but Harry could only think how his accent got thicker due to the tiredness and excitement, so this came out as "fooking" and really, he could've predict the flood of fond in his heart.
"So... are we dating now?" Harry heard himself saying and yes, the filter between his brain and mouth was apparently broken again. Good thing Louis didn't seem to mind it, he just blushed cutely, smiled at the snow-covered ground and murmured:
"Only if you want to..."
Harry couldn't find the words to explain how much he cared about this boy, how much he wanted to be able to call Louis' his, but he had to show it somehow, so this boy would know what he deserved. The only thing ricocheting in his mind was to kiss him, so he did just that. He captured Louis' lips with his, closing his eyes again and sighing at the feeling. His ears felt like they were on fire, even though it was freezing cold, and he could feel every single nerve ending in his mouth. The feeling of Louis, clinging to him tightly made lights explode behind his eyelids, and...
"Harry and Louis sitting on a tree" a loud singing interrupted their quiet moment. Louis' sisters were mercilessly making fun of them, laughing and singing.
They parted, blushing profusely. Louis glared at his family, but in the same moment he felt Harry's hand enveloping his own and his eyes softened automatically. He looked up to his mother, expecting a lecture, but, to his suprise, she had tears in her eyes and was holding Dan's hand as tightly as Louis was holding Harry's. He shuddered at what it might mean.
Love was such an abstract thought, never a real issue for Louis. Sure, he used to date casually a couple of times, but couldn't imagine doing that to Harry. Maybe he was more gone for him than he thought (he had been since he met him), but the thought of hurting the curly-haired boy was unbearable.
"Let's go back, I'm cold" whined Fizzy, another one of Louis' sisters, breaking the awkward silence. Everyone murmured their agreements and went back inside, accopanied by the awful music coming from the house nearby. It was a perfect beginning of, hopefully, a perfect new year.
(And if Louis and Harry fell asleep that night tangled together with their hands intertwined, then it was their secret).