Work Text:
**
It’s late when Nick hears the front door click open, and then snap shut quickly like the intruder doesn’t want to alert anyone. And, perhaps if Nick had gone to bed earlier, like a sensible person that has to be up at arse o’clock in the morning, he wouldn’t have heard it. He would have slept peacefully on whilst a wind-swept, bright-eyed Louis Tomlinson snuck into his house, and that would have been such a shame.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Louis asks as he presses a kiss to Nick’s forehead, popping down on the other side of the sofa, and Nick tries very hard not to stare as Louis toes off his shoes and curls up, bare ankle peeking out the bottom of his ridiculously tight jeans. He’s not very good at it though.
“I'm not that old,” He replies flippantly, “did they paint your jeans on today?” because he’s sure trousers aren’t supposed to be that tight.
“People at your age should be getting a very decent amount of sleep,” Louis shrugs, trying for nonchalance, but the smirk curling up his mouth gives himself away, Nick squawks indignantly anyway because he is kind of tired and it’s not like mister popstar here gets up as early as he does, “and yes. The man who did it was lovely, very gentle around those sensitive areas.”
“Hmpf,” Nick says, ignoring the bait and turns back to the crappy late night television, flicking through the channels until it lands on some pretentious cooking show that looks like he can yell at. It doesn’t take long until Louis jumps up and disappears for ten minutes or so.
When he gets back, the skin tight jeans are gone and a pair of sweats are on, tight dress shirt replaced by one of Nick’s hipster shirts that is far too big for Louis. It drapes over one of Louis' shoulders, showing off collar bone and some of Louis' upper arm and clings a little to Louis' tummy. His hair is stuffed into his favourite blue beanie. He sits down in exactly the same spot and curls up a again, adjusting the nauseatingly out of place cushion that Louis insists they need and Nick doesn’t have the heart to get rid of, so he’s more comfortable. And Nick’s hit by the fact that he wants to cuddle so fucking bad he wonders if he’s allowed to liken it to being shot. It certainly feels that way.
He just really wants wrap his arms around Louis' smaller frame, fingers curling into the material of his stupid shirt and Louis' stubble grazing against his neck. He wants to stretch lazily out on the sofa and have Louis curl into his side, legs tangled and pressed as close as they can. Nick wants Louis arms draped over him, grazing his fingernails into Nick’s back and sides, content and sleepy with each other as company. He wants to cuddle so much, god damn it, but he doesn’t know how to ask to do so.
Louis is always the one to initiate it.
And, although it’s obvious that Louis' quite a physical creature, needing contact with people, Nick’s not sure if he’s just allowed to wrap the lad up and hold on. Louis is the one that jumps in people’s laps, tweak their nipples, demand piggy-backs and bite them inappropriately. He’s the person that’s up in people’s faces, holding their hands, touching excessively not Nick. And for a long time, before this thing happened between them, Louis wouldn’t even touch Nick on the shoulder to get his attention. So, Nick’s not really sure if it’s allowed for him to cuddle Louis, not sure if he’s allowed to reach over and pull the boy wearing his shirt to him.
He could ask if it’s okay, Nick does entertain the thought for a moment, but even if he possibly had the words to say, he’s not sure he wants to see the look on Louis' face when he does. Because, Nick can't take that smug smirk that Louis brings out when Nick says something rather stupid. And, for the moment Nick can’t think of anything more stupid in Louis' eyes then to ask your boyfriend if it’s okay to cuddle. But, despite the whole situation being rather obscure and a little bit ridiculous, Nick finds this whole thing has upset him a little. It’s just like Louis Tomlinson to get him all worked up and annoyed without even meaning to, he thinks angrily and huffs out loud. He folds his arms over his chest to ensure he keeps his hands to himself and when he spots Louis rolling his eyes exaggeratedly; it just sets him off even more.
“I'm going to bed.” He declares, getting up from the sofa and ignoring how comfy Louis looks in his clothes, especially ignoring the way Louis' expression falls.
“Why?” Louis whines in such a way that Nick is used to, he knows it’s to get him to do stuff for Louis and he’s not going to fall for it right now, “I just got here. You should stay up and watch terrible television with me.”
“I'm old and I need a decent amount of sleep.” Nick retorts, slipping past Louis to get to his room and pretends not to notice the way Louis flinched a little at the use of his words.
“I didn’t mean that.” Louis murmurs, and Nick pretends he doesn’t hear it, that Louis is speaking in a voice too low, as he walks off.
His bed feels empty without Louis, and when the boy slides in next to him not long after, Louis keeps his distance. It makes Nick’s guts ache a little, that’s completely the opposite of what he wanted, and it doesn’t occur that perhaps his attitude brought the behaviour on. With an internal sigh, Nick wants to reach out and pull Louis to his chest, but he just can’t. He doesn’t know how to.
**
The thing is this is kind of new to Nick. He doesn’t do boyfriends. That’s just how it is, and it’s never something he’s really had to think about before. So, he’s not sure on the whole thing and where he stands. And, considering this whole relationship isn’t that old either (well, that's a complete lie, but Nick's using it as his excuse anyway), Nick’s got no idea where the boundaries sit. He doesn’t know if it’s okay to just pull Louis into him for a bit of a cuddle because that’s what Louis does; he’s the one to initiate it and Nick’s not sure if there’s some unspoken rule that decrees that only he can.
Because Nick remembers before Louis was always over at his place and in his life, filling up the silences and the cracks, ordering him to make breakfast and being a terrible nuisance. He remembers the stiff hellos and the strict no touching rule that lay awkwardly between them; no touching, not for anything, not even by accident. Nick remembers the sharp, cutting words they’d share, remembers how Louis brought out a stupid, nasty teenager in him and lowered Nick to Louis' snippy level. And, he certainly remembers how he’d curl up in bed, late at night, head buzzing with alcohol and wonder why Louis hated him so much.
And all that makes him question things he doesn’t know he’s allowed to do. Louis has never said if it’s okay for Nick to cuddle with him without Louis starting it, never mentioned it once at all. So, what if it’s not okay? What if Louis' not comfortable enough with Nick for that unasked physical contact? Because, he never liked it before, not one little bit and so maybe it’s only fine when Louis starts it. Sometimes, Nick’s still not sure that Louis doesn’t hate him and he only pushes the boundaries that are put in place for him. The boundaries he knows about, because he doesn’t know this emotion and he really doesn’t want to push Louis away and sometimes he thinks he will if he’s not careful.
Just, Nick really wants to cuddle, but he really wants Louis more.
**
“What’s up with you?” Harry asks, poking Louis in the side until he stops ignoring Harry and grabs the fingers to make the jabbing stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louis sniffs daintily, making a face at Harry, and Harry just rolls his eyes and pokes Louis with the other hand. Louis ineffectually buffs at that hand.
“For one,” Harry starts, pulling his hands away to get dramatic if need be, “you’ve been completely distant in all these interviews, people are going to worry. Secondly, there’s none of that boisterous stuff going on, and I know the lads are worried and lastly, you haven’t checked your phone once today and that’s probably a first.”
“There’s nothing interesting on my phone, and I'm just a little tired, young Harold.” Louis tries, shrugging, but slumps back into the longue and accidently sighs out loud.
“Well, that looks like nothing.” Harry smirks, “Sighing and all that.” Louis pokes Harry in the shoulder, determined to start a tickle fight or something to distract Harry but Niall wonders over and ponders out loud in a voice that doesn’t sound as passing as he’s trying to make it.
“Louis shouldn’t you be on your phone or something?” He drawls, “Surely Grimmy has sent you something witty about the state of your trousers.” And then the fucker strolls calmly off like the conversation has been finished, and not like the answer isn’t really what Niall wanted to hear, only to stir up trouble.
“Oh my,” Harry exclaims, “you and Grimmy had a fight!” and Louis does a really good impression of Nick’s indignant squawk, but Harry doesn’t listen at all, “That’s why you’re so mopey and down! What happened? How can I fix it?”
“Presumptuous twat.” Louis replies and crosses his arms over his chest and closes his mouth tightly to show that he’s not going to tell Harry anything, even if there was something to tell. Harry just takes it as a challenge and goes straight for Louis' sides, knowing how much Louis hates that. Louis squirms out the way, trying to elbow Harry into stopping, laughter pouring out his lips, “Tickling is a form of torture, you brute!” eventually, Harry bats his eyelashes enough to get Zayn to help him, and Louis is pinned down, so he can’t get away from the wiggling fingers along his sides. He yells out truce, and Zayn takes him seriously enough to go back to his conversation with, despite Harry’s puppy dog face.
“Want to talk about that?” Louis says instead, knocking his shoulder against Harry’s and Harry snaps up straight, looking like he wasn’t disappointed that Zayn walked off, and huffs.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Harry snorts ineffectively; “I just can’t believe he would seriously think you of all people would actually comply with a truce that you called out, especially when you’re in no place to be doing any bargaining.”
“If you say so,” Louis crooks an eyebrow and Harry looked determinedly away from where Liam’s animatedly retelling some probably lame story, swats Louis' hand away as it goes straight for his dimple and frowns.
“Don’t change the subject Lou,” He orders, “I'm not going to be distracted that easily.” And he pouts when Louis makes a face at him, because yes Louis does think that’s quite possible.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Louis parrots, trying on Harry’s accent for size, but decides his is much better, it’s quite hard to talk this slow.
“Don’t lie to me.” Harry replies, poking Louis in the nose, “Tell me what happened and I’ll try and help you guys out. I'm sure it’s really stupid and one of you just has to say sorry.” And, despite Louis feeling rather annoyed at Harry’s words, he sounds so sincere and honest, so Louis doesn’t retort anything back at him.
“I was being serious though,” Louis says, “there’s nothing to talk about because I don’t know what’s wrong. Nick’s just grumpy and I don’t know if it’s something I did or what because he just suddenly was quite upset and…” He trails off, and Harry wraps his arms around him like something really terrible has happened such as a death or the like.
“Want me to badger him?” He asks against the top of Louis' head, and Louis winds his arms around Harry’s waist, hugging him back.
“No, it’s okay.” Louis says, “I'm sure he just had a bad day at work or something.” And, Louis tries really hard to believe it, but he can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.
And, Harry just keeps his arms around Louis, cuddling him tight until they’re called over to get their make-up fixed for the next interview. When they walk out into the studio, Harry slips and arm around Louis' shoulders and keeps them there for the majority of the time, fingers rubbing at Louis' back calmly. It helps Louis to focus on something, instead of letting his thoughts wander and become morose, and he participates more in the conversation then.
**
When Nick turns on his phone after work – Finchy had ordered it off after he checked it too many times in the first half an hour – there’s over a dozen messages from Harry and just the one from Louis. He automatically goes to look through the one from Louis first, deeming that far more important and the message is a little cryptic.
hazzas been on his phone for the past half an hour and won’t tell me why is he annoying you? xx
He sends back a quick yes but it’s okay, and really, it does make sense with the sheer volume of messages from Harry, but it makes him wonder what on earth happened and how he is friends with such childish people. And, it kind of feels a little like he’s missing out on something as he reads the text over again. Perhaps Harry’s will make the whole situation make sense and as Nick scrolls through them, they’re all quite similar and unsurprisingly unhelpful.
y r u grumpy?
what’s wrong? r u still being grumpy?
NICHOLAS GRIMSHAW ANSWER UR TEXTS.
you’re making lou all sad and i don’t like sad lou.
what HAPPENED? TELL ME GRIMSHAW OR I’LL HAVE TO KILL U IN YOUR SLEEP.
Nick snorts as he goes through the list of threats that get quite creative, although he knows Harry would never do such a thing. He supposes he should reply, and his fingers tap over the screen to form some witty reply and just as he presses send the one text that supplies some decent information makes Nick think.
you’d never do that to me darling.
The reply from Harry is almost instant, and Nick ignores it in favour to reading through all the texts not containing strange death threats and frowns. He’s supposed to be the cryptic one, not Harry.
thank god ur answering ur phone. now tell me what happened!
The frown upon Nick’s brow increases and Finchy opens his mouth to ask what’s up but Nick shushes him with a wave of his hand. He’d love to answer that question, but he can't, and spins around on his swivel chair so he’s facing away from Finchy.
i don’t know what you’re talking about harold.
perhaps you should explain when this something happened and i may or may not be able to reply depending on my state of sobriety.
There’s a long pause, and Nick sighs when it seems like Harry isn’t going to reply. Finchy raises an eyebrow, but Nick just shrugs at him, getting up from his chair and gathering his jacket.
“Teenage popstars,” Nick says, “they make no sense whatsoever, and send you weird messages whilst you’re doing your decent, every day job. Terrible people, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Fincham replies with a laugh, “I'm not the one dating one, nor have associates with them half the time.” Nick flips him off, swallowing the ‘Louis is not a teenager’ and leaves for home, already tired and ready for terrible day time television and a glass of crappy wine. It’s not until Nick gets home, door shut and curled up on the couch that he gets another couple of buzzes from his phone, insistant and annoying.
WHAT DO U MEAN U DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT??!!? SOMETHING HAPPENED BECAUSE U WERE BEING A JERK TO LOUIS.
ow, he just hit me. i think he hates me because i said i wouldn’t annoy u. he says he’s sorry i'm annoying u. okay y r u grumpy? r u angry at him? he doesnt know what he did wrong and he’s been sad all day and all still and not answering questions and its terrible i don’t like sad lou at all.
ANSWER UR PHONE GRIMSHAW.
Nick snorts at the messages, but then things all sort of fall into place and click in. And he flushes bright red; glad no one is there to see him, and he feels so incredibly awful. Because Harry’s certain that Louis is upset because of him, and no matter what Nick says or how much they bicker, he really doesn’t mean to hurt Louis in anyway.
i'm not grumpy. well, not really. lou did nothing, tell him not to be sad.
Quickly, Nick tries to come up with some reason that sounds plausible as to why he’s grumpy, because he’s not sure he can really take Harry yelling at him through text again. He just knows his curly haired friend will scream something ridiculous because his real reason is actually very ridiculous and Harry’s naïve in that way that makes him think things like this are easy. Like, if he just talks about it things will be fine, and it’s not that easy, but Harry doesn’t understand that.
y r u not really grumpy?
The curly haired bastard is persistent when he wants to be, Nick will give him that. But, that’s about as much as Nick will give him, mostly because it’s none of his business. And, well a little bit because One Direction is a cuddly kind of band and there’s probably nothing more stupid in their eyes then not knowing how to ask for a cuddle.
it’s stupid and nothing. ignore it styles.
if the pair of u dont work it out by 2mrrw morning i will come over there + beat u 2 death with ur own arm.
**
Louis is home much earlier than the night before, and Nick’s got a cup of tea ready and waiting whilst the kettle boils for him. He slips effortlessly into Nick’s side, once changed into more comfortable clothes, hand pressing into Nick’s hip. They make tea without words; a sweet, domestic silence and their fingers graze as they pass things around. Once down, hands curve around mugs and they carry the tea out to the living room, shoe-less and comfy upon the couch. Louis tucks his toes underneath Nick’s thigh, and they turn on re-runs of The Great British Bake Off.
There’s the hum of words on screen, the buzzing of Louis’ phone where it’s sitting next to his mug, half filled with tea. It’s quiet and comfortable, in that kind of expecting way, and Nick feels like he should say something; orate carefully exactly what’s up, but he doesn’t know what to say, and the bumbling, terrible words get stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t say anything. Just sips at his tea and tries to ignore the wiggling toes underneath his leg.
Louis doesn’t press anything, picks up his tea too and sips at it quickly like he’s trying to keep words in, stop them from bubbling out and Nick wants to laugh at the irony of it. The phone keeps buzzing, rattling around the top of coffee table, and Nick eyes it carefully, pretty certain that it’s Harry asking for updates on things, because it sounds like something Harry would do. “You can answer your phone,” he says, nodding towards it and Louis blushes, “I’m sure Harry needs to know about the type of tea we’re drinking.”
“Just Yorkshire?” Louis asks, because he knows that’s the answer and because they share an evil little smirk as Louis sends off a couple of texts that discuss the quality and colour of the tea. His phone buzzes not long after, and Nick watches Louis’ expression carefully as Louis bursts into laughter at whatever Harry’s said and waves the screen at Nick’s face.
He looks so lovely, cuddly and warm, eyes crinkling and little, pointy teeth showing in his smirk and all Nick wants to do is wrap him up and cuddle him.
“I think we need some boundaries,” Nick says and obviously it’s a lot more ominous that he means because Louis’ laughter stops like it’s been cut off, his smile disappearing completely off his face. He wants to reach out and take Louis’ hand or something, but all this has got him so confused that he’s not even sure if he’s allowed to do that, “It’s not like that love, relax.” He says and although Louis’ stricken demeanour calms, he still looks worried.
“Is everything alright?” Louis asks fearfully, dropping the still buzzing phone into his lap and Nick hates himself for making Louis worry like this. The whole thing is stupid.
“No,” he says when he means yes and Louis physically draws back from Nick like he’s been stung, looks so small against the edge of Nick’s couch that he doesn’t think, just does what’s natural and leans forwards to scoop Louis up in his arms, hushing the words that he knows are bursting to come out of Louis, “hey, hey, hey. It’s not like that. That’s not really what I meant.”
“What do you mean?” Louis sniffs – actually sniffs like he’s on the brink of tears and Nick adds that to the list of reasons he’s not really supposed to be a boyfriend – and his fingers dig into Nick’s sides, clinging on tightly. “I’m really confused.”
“I –” Nick starts and the words get stuck again, like the can’t climb up into his mouth to be said, out into the world and he clears his throat with an awkward cough, “this is going to sound really stupid, and I know that because it is really stupid, but I need to know where the boundaries are because I’m so scared to cross them and lose you.” And wow that was so not what Nick was trying to say, although it’s kind of everything he really means, it’s far too sappy for him to want to admit Louis.
Louis, on the other hand, after he pulls a little way away from Nick to look up him properly, looks fucking ecstatic. Like that’s the best news he’s heard all year, and grins happily like he’s been awarded the Nobel Prize or an award less science related and more like musician of the year or something.
“You’re scared to lose me,” he croons, one hand leaving Nick’s waist to pat affectionately, and slightly condescendingly at Nick’s cheek, fingers stroking thoughtfully along freckles and cheekbone, “You don’t want to lose me.” he clarifies, like that actually needs to be repeated, and looks so pleased with himself, “I’m something you’d be upset about not having anymore.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Louis, we get it, I love you,” Nick snaps because he’s afraid if he doesn’t interrupt soon Louis will go on forever about how Nick has mushy feelings over him, cheeks pinked and then they turn a darker shade even more when Louis’ bottom jaw drops. And, oh fuck, he loves Louis? Where did that come from?
“You,” Louis twists the word in his mouth, “Love me?” he asks and Nick’s instant reaction is to deny it, want to take back the words and to stop having Louis look at him like that. Instead, he nods slowly because well, he kind of does, doesn’t he?
Louis’ face literally lights up like someone turned a light on.
“I always thought I was the one that was going to say that first,” he muses and all Nick had really wanted to say that he just wants to know if he’s allowed to cuddle Louis when he felt like it, this is why talking is a bad idea.
“Can we talk about boundaries now, or is that not a thing anymore?” Nick asks because it is a thing, and that was the point of this conversation and his cheeks probably can’t get any redder than they already are, so he might as well pop the cuddling question in as well. Get the embarrassment over and done with.
“Hold on,” Louis says and the hand on Nick’s cheek hooks the edges of its fingers around the curve of his jaw bone, just below his ear and pull him in, downwards for a kiss. Their mouths meet gently, the smile on Louis’ unable to stop for more than four seconds at a time, so it’s more a soft press of lips than a proper kiss, “Okay,” Louis says when he’s sufficient with the awkward smile of a kiss, and it’s still there as Nick pulls back and tries to gather his wits and work out how the fuck to word this.
“This is going to sound stupid, and I know I’ve said it is, but it really is,” Nick basically repeats himself and Louis looks moderately bored with it already, although Nick knows that he’s actually listening in intently, but the way the fingers on his waist dig in a little as he pauses. “And, you’re probably one of the cuddliest people I know, and trust me, I know a lot of cuddly people, so that probably makes it about three hundred times more stupid, but it’s a serious concern okay. Just don’t laugh.”
“Get on with it,” Louis quirks an eyebrow, but it looks rather fond instead of condescending with that smile still firmly in place upon his little, pink lips, “I can’t promise not to laugh, though.” and really, Nick wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I remember when you wouldn’t even look at me.” Nick says because he can’t think of a way to explain things with it, and it certainly piques Louis’ interest more, “I remember you ordering Harry to sit between us at award shows and interviews and things so we wouldn’t ever accidently touch knees or something. I remember when you’d make me wait somewhere you could walk past without being within my arm range when we’d be back stage at stuff. I remember having you hiss at me because I accidently knocked Niall into Harry into you once.”
“Oh,” Louis says, although Nick’s not sure why, and at least he has the decency to look a little ashamed, blushing a bit.
“So I don’t know if this cuddling thing is okay if you don’t start it.” Nick says as calmly as he can, trying to articulate the words in such a way it’ll take a while for Louis to full comprehend so he can run away or something in the meantime, “I don’t know if there’s some unspoken rule that says cuddling is fine so long as you initiate it, because we’ve never cuddled without you starting it.”
“Oh,” Louis repeats blankly, “Oh.”
“Yeah, so, that’d be nice if you’d tell me what’s up with that because it'd be great to know.” Nick tries for nonchalant, but just comes across as needy because he needs an answer, even if it’s laughter. That would be great, wonderful even.
“You were actually upset because you wanted a cuddle and you didn’t know if it was okay to do so or not because I used to be such a twat to you?” Louis asks and Nick doesn’t know why he has this thing about pointing out Nick’s faults, but it’s tiresome.
“Yes,” he sighs and that hand pulls Nick down for another, proper kiss.
“Nick,” Louis says between little nips of teeth and soothing kisses, and Nick breaths a hmm into his mouth, Louis giggling at the feeling, “I love you too, you idiot.”