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And that’s when Harry froze.
So did Louis.
The nest was obvious—there was no way to pretend it was anything else. Piles of soft fabric arranged just so, the careful layering of scents, the sheer amount of Harry’s clothes mixed in with Louis’s own. The way it had been perfectly nestled in the corner of the room, near the balcony door where he could smoke from the comfort of his delicately crafted nest. He was aware that Harry wasn’t dumb- Harry most definitely knew he was looking at a nest, and one that smelt of him too.
Oh, Louis is so fucked.
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omega verse au where one direction are touring, and well, louis get a habit of making a nest out of his best friends clothes. until he catches him, that is…
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