Chapter Text
Louis placed the last cardboard box on the floor and looked around, wondering whether he’d actually be able to find away to get past all of them. He and Harry had been so focused on removing the boxes from the van that they’d never really thought about whether or not it was sensible to just dump them randomly in the hall. Turned out that it wasn’t, because it wasn’t the largest hall he’d ever seen. Still, it was theirs, and that was enough for Louis.
Now that the call had come through saying that Derek was safely back under lock and key, Louis felt far more comfortable with their home – especially as Kylie had been so pleased by the news that he’d forgotten to be huffy about Harry’s disobedience and had sent ahead a couple of provisions in the form of alcohol, biscuits and a doormat all wrapped up in brown paper which they’d found on the doorstep. Louis wasn’t sure how the alcohol would come in handy, but the doormat would definitely give a homely feel to their cottage. A cottage was the only way to describe it; it was too small to be a house and was the typical cottage cliché; some kind of trellis over the doorway in a sort of archway with an ivy-type plant creeping around it and dangling in loose green tendrils over the toffee-coloured wooden door, a doorknocker instead of a doorbell, and the roof wasn’t thatched, but it was some kind of imitation of it. The whole building was ever so slightly crooked, leaning a little to the left, but that just gave it character. The windows were ‘leaded’ with a criss-cross pattern, so it looked like each window was made up of glass diamond shapes all fitted together like a jigsaw. It had an overgrown, tangled garden and no one had attended to it or pulled any weeds for a substantial amount of time, but Louis didn’t care much about that.
Basically, it was like a cottage straight out of a fairy tale; it would have been the spitting image of the seven dwarves’ house from Daisy and Phoebe’s book of fairy stories if it hadn’t been for the satellite dish that someone had installed on the roof. Louis’ mouth quirked upwards with amusement when he thought about it: they could get Sky – Harry would be happy.
Speak of the devil: Harry came wandering aimlessly through the front door. He had his old grey beanie jammed down over his curls, keeping them under control as when he’d woken up surrounded by the aftermath of last night’s party, he’d declared his hair impossible for the day. Louis had no objections; Harry looked bloody adorable in a beanie. Along with his beanie, he was wearing one of Louis’ ugliest jumpers, the kind that Louis only had so that he could assault people’s eyes when he didn’t like them, and skinny jeans so sinfully tight that Louis wasn’t sure whether to be turned on or amused; it must have felt like they were an extra skin layer and he didn’t envy Harry for having to peel them off later. Excited to be moving in, Harry’s eyes were bright and sparkled a devastating green as he walked forwards with his hands shoved into his pockets (as far as they would go, anyway; the pockets of the jeans were as tight as the rest of them). He had a spot on his chin, and Louis found himself fixated on it; there was something ridiculously sexy about Harry with spots that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Grinning, Harry turned his head and opened his mouth to make a comment – and then, unexpectedly, his left foot encountered the box that Louis had just put down and he tripped. Luckily, Louis was used to Harry being less than coordinated, and he reached out and snagged the back of Harry’s shirt, hauling him upwards before he could fall. Shaking his head fondly, he slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and tilted his head sideways to brush his hair against Harry’s cheek; he had to stand on his tiptoes slightly so he could reach to do it. Beside him, he felt Harry’s smile widen.
“This is us,” Louis said cheerfully.
“Yup,” Harry agreed.
The two of them looked around, admiring the hallway. The whole house was just like it had been in the leaflet, except without all of the furnishings. It was quiet and small, on the very outskirts of Brighton away from all of the busyness and the traffic and pollution, and laughing kids on skateboards. It truly was tucked away from everything; their own little paradise. Or at least, it would be, once they’d sorted everything out. Already Louis could see where their possessions would fit, although he was most worried about the fact that although he could see upstairs and there was a reasonably unobstructed view into the master bedroom, there didn’t appear to be a bed. Which was somewhat of a problem, seeing as they didn’t have one.
“We might be sleeping on the floor tonight, Harold.”
“Who said anything about sleeping?” Harry asked cheekily. “There’s only one way to celebrate moving into a new house, Louis; I’m sure you know what it is.”
“You have a one track mind.”
“It’s tradition!” Harry protested innocently, “we did it last time I moved in with you; I don’t see why we should break the habit.”
“Oh, shut up!” Louis laughed delightedly, and he slapped Harry playfully on the bum. “You horny teenage sex-addict, you!”
Harry winked and then laughed along with him. “You love it.” Sighing, he leaned against Louis. “On a serious note, though, this place is a mess. We really should start sorting everything out, getting things organized…”
“We should.” Louis turned his head a little to grin at Harry. “But really, does that sound like us?”
“Of course not,” snorted Harry, “come on! There’s a whole load of stuff we could be doing other than unpacking.” He grabbed Louis’ hand and tugged him towards the door.
“Right,” Louis said as they stumbled outside, slamming the door behind him, “when I was buying this place, the estate agent guy told me it was a proper bargain, because not only do we get the house, and the garden, but we also get a bit of land as well – kind of like a beach.” He cast his arm outwards to indicate the surrounding area. “Somewhere around here there’s a kind of path, and it goes down the hill and goes down to a kind of cove…you can’t get to it in any other way. It’s ours; it’s part of the house.”
Harry’s whole face lit up excitedly. “Come on, then! Let’s find it!” He started looking cheerfully around, their hands still linked. Usually, he would have been afraid to hold hands with Louis in case a load of unpleasant teenagers turned up and started heckling them, but he couldn’t have cared less right then. The bit of garden around their house was massive, and there was no one around to stare. Harry pulled off his beanie and crammed it into his pocket as they walked; it was too warm for beanies.
“There!” Louis pointed at a little pathway worn into the grass, and he started following it, with Harry hurrying cheerfully behind him and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb.
When they reached what appeared to be the end of the path, they discovered that it led to kind of a downhill slope that was almost impossible to climb down whilst holding hands; they were determined to try anyway, and nearly fell down the hill several times, but neither of them cared much about trivial things like that! Cheerfully scrambling down, they eagerly picked their way down the sandy path on the hillside, grabbing tufts of stringy grass whenever they thought they were about to lose their footing, hauling each other back before they could fall…they worked together, like they did with everything else. Every time Harry nearly fell flat on his face, Louis laughed, and Harry grinned and secretly planned to tickle the life out of him when they reached the bottom.
When the path trailed out, they were faced with a little wooden gate, only reaching Harry’s waist, padlocked shut, and typically, Louis had forgotten the keys and didn’t fancy trekking all the way back up that steep slope again to fetch them – especially as the lock looked so rusty that he wasn’t sure he could have gotten the key into it in the first place. Shrugging resignedly, he planted one foot on the lowest wooden slat, testing it with his weight, then swung a leg over the fence and clambered easily over, releasing Harry’s hand for a moment so he wouldn’t fall. As soon as he was safely over, he reached out a hand to help Harry climb over as well, which Harry accepted – not that he needed it, but why pass up on an opportunity to hold Louis’ hand? Never before had he felt quite so relaxed about it; there was nobody looking, nobody judging, nobody knew they were there. Even the removal men had left long before they’d left the house to do their little exploration. There were no flats above or below or beside them to have a go at them for being too loud. No one was wandering around to look at two guys holding hands with curious and then critical eyes.
For the first time in far too long, they were truly alone.
With that beautiful thought running through his mind, Harry led Louis onto the beach, and they both blinked, because it looked like the kind of idealistic beach from a Caribbean holiday brochure, not a little cove in Brighton. The sand, rather than being a dark gold, dulled by pollution and thousands of dirty feet and children digging it up and patting it back all day every day, was pale, almost white, like it had been bleached. Crawling up the beach a few hundred metres away were the kind of waves that Harry had only ever seen before in films; perfect, flawless blue, almost the same colour as the sky. They lazily licked the sand making soft whooshing noises as they crashed against the land. Virtually untouched apart from a small pile of burnt sticks remaining from someone’s old bonfire, the whole beach looked like it had barely been set foot on before. Harry wondered whether the previous owners had come onto the beach one last time and lit the fire as a kind of farewell ceremony. Come to think of it, he wouldn’t mind doing something like that himself; he’d heard that driftwood fires were blue, and it sounded like something he would want to see.
The beach was one of the most breathtaking things Harry had ever laid eyes on – and it was theirs.
Louis tapped his arm, and Harry looked over at him with a smile. The two of them grinned at each other for a moment or so and then Louis kicked off his espadrilles and tossed them onto the sand.
“We’ve got a beach,” he said unapologetically, “we might as well make the most of it.”
Harry shrugged. “True.” Pulling his own shoes off, he laid them carefully beside Louis’ and then shook his head in amusement. “It’s going to be bloody freezing in there.”
Carelessly waving his hand like the idea of possible hypothermia was a minor inconvenience, Louis snorted “When has anything like that ever stopped us before? We’re young. We might get frostbite, but I’m sure we won’t miss a couple of fingers.” He laughed.
They set off across the sands, sprinting at full speed towards the ocean, and then Louis jumped and Harry hopped, and with a splash they immersed themselves in the sea. As Harry had predicted, it was freezing, and he was pretty sure that his whole body turned to ice the moment he leapt in – but Louis just laughed, and Harry did too, shaking his already wet hair and flicking droplets of freezing water all over Louis’ face. Louis laughed in mock outrage and splashed water all over him, and Harry giggled and staggered back a few steps. Already he’d figured out that scrambling into the water wearing jeans had not been the best idea, especially not jeans quite as tight as the ones he was wearing. They were completely saturated and clung to his legs even more than they had before; he would probably have to have them surgically removed later on. Harry didn’t care much about that. Louis was somewhat better off; his rolled up trousers were more suited to the water and were looser so they billowed around him like he had made a pair of shorts out of a parachute, but he was still waist high in water and therefore completely soaked.
“We’re never going to get dry after this!” Harry spluttered as Louis splashed him once again with another giant wave.
“I wasn’t under the impression that you minded being wet,” Louis countered immediately, and Harry felt his lips curve upwards into an immature grin at the innuendo.
By the time Louis had covered him with water for about the sixth time, and Harry was colder than he’d ever been in his life, from the waist down, anyway, he figured that there was no point in even trying to stay dry any more. Bouncing up and down on his toes, he appraised Louis for a moment or so.
“You want to keep splashing me, Tomlinson? You don’t know what I could do.”
In response, Louis childishly poked out his tongue and then showered him with another barrage of water. Harry raised his eyebrows at the challenge, grinned wickedly, and then hurled himself at Louis, slamming into him with the full force of his body and knocking him right over. Louis yelped as Harry’s body hit him, and he fell backwards, Harry falling with him and having the common sense to take a deep breath and shut his mouth before they hit the water – although Louis didn’t figure that out until they’d gone under.
The salt water stung Harry’s eyes, so he closed them and groped blindly for Louis through the water, feeling for the sharp curve of an elbow or the sharp point of a collarbone. It was Louis’ chin that he found first; grabbing hold of it, he pulled himself closer to Louis, wrapped his arms around him and then felt around for his mouth. Once he’d found it, he wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and kissed him hungrily, pressing their mouths together hard to avoid any unwanted salt water pouring in. He’d had a mouthful of sea a couple of years ago and was by no means eager to relive the experience. Under the water, he and Louis stayed firmly wrapped in an embrace until Harry’s lungs started – not screaming, because he had no breath left for that; it felt more like they had either grown to a ridiculous size and exploded, or shrunk to the size of peas! Groaning inwardly, Harry shoved Louis away and kicked upwards; when his head broke the surface of the water, he took the deepest, most violently shuddering breath he’d ever taken in his life. Closely following him, Louis burst above the water as well and coughed up what looked like half the ocean; he’d clearly not bothered closing his mouth when he fell over backwards, or perhaps he’d been too surprised. His hair was plastered flat against his head. Harry giggled, even though he knew his own hair was dripping down past his shoulders now that all the curls had been shocked out of it with all the water.
Louis went to put his feet down, then discovered that when Harry had leapt at him, they’d fallen out a fair bit further to sea than they had realized and were no longer in their depth. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he swam over towards Harry and started floating alongside him – then he rested his cheek on Harry’s chest and closed his eyes. Harry’s heart thudded happily underneath Louis’ face, and he felt Louis smile even as he smiled himself and reached out a hand to place on Louis’ back, pulling the older boy a little closer against him.
“This is where it all begins for us,” Harry promised, and he tilted his head downwards to brush his cheek against Louis’ soaking wet hair, secretly hoping that it would dry into a ruffled, disorganized mess, because to be quite honest it was just unbelievably hot, and he didn’t often have ulterior motives behind his romantic gestures but that was one of the best reasons he could have had. “No more mess-ups, no more stupidity.”
“No more lies?” Louis asked quietly, and he didn’t say it accusingly; he said it as a genuine question: would Harry lie to him again? Would he keep things from him because he thought it was for the best, when really it would endanger the both of them and their relationship and make them both miserable in the long run?
Harry kissed him lightly on one perfect cheekbone. “No more lies,” he promised, and Louis knew that he meant it.