Archive of Our Own

Los Angeles, California, USA

The Los Angeles airport is busier than Louis had expected it to be this early on a Thursday. His fingers tap anxiously inside the front pocket of his hoodie as he stands in the security line, glancing at his phone for the sixteenth time in as many minutes.

11:42

He swears under his breath, cursing his boss for booking him an international flight so soon after their promotional breakfast. This conference had already been a long three days, though he guesses he shouldn't be surprised, especially not after—

He's pulled from his thoughts as he finally reaches the front of the line, the next open TSA agent waving him over. He quickly scans his boarding pass, handing his passport to the serious face on the other side of the counter.

"Sunglasses off, sir," the man says, not unkindly, but the authority clear in his tone. Louis can't help but notice the strong Alpha scent, the TSA agent clearly wanting his position of authority known, which only irritates him further.

He rolls his eyes behind his shades but knows better than to pick a fight with anyone in an airport, so he does as he's told and removes them. He squints slightly as his tired eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights. The TSA agent looks from Louis to his passport and waves him through with a silent nod.

Louis collects his passport and makes his way to yet another line, tossing his suitcase, backpack and shoes into bins to make their way down the conveyor belt and through the baggage scanner, while he impatiently waits in line to walk through the scanner himself. Thankfully, the line only takes a few minutes, but minutes are all he has. He quickly slips his shoes back on and grabs his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder as he places the shades back on his face, and heads off to find Gate 18.

"This is the final boarding call for Flight 4758 to London. Final boarding call for Flight 4758 to London."

Shit. Shit shit shit.

As soon as he hears the announcement, Louis takes off at a sprint through the terminal, a few choice words for his boss now running through his head.

He makes it to the gate just as the gate agent is about to close the door.

"Wait! I'm here, I'm here!"

The gate agent stops, turning to face Louis, brow raised.

"Cutting it a bit close, are we?" It's meant to be a scold, though she offers him a polite smile as she scans his boarding pass.

Louis forces a smile and nods curtly, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would risk him not getting on this flight. Thankfully, she scans his boarding pass and lets him through without any additional comment.

He runs down the jet bridge and is greeted by a flight attendant in the midst of making the final preparations for takeoff.

"Good morning, sir. Glad you made it! We do have a full flight today, so it looks like there's only one open seat left." She gestures towards a row about halfway down the economy section with an open middle seat. Of course.

A full flight? Seriously? Though he supposes that's fair if there are only a few direct flights a day.

Louis nods politely and hurries down the centre aisle to the open seat, silently praying to the gods that there is still overhead bin space for his suitcase. Thankfully, there is. He throws his suitcase up top as the older man sitting in the aisle seat unbuckles himself and stands with a huff, clearly exasperated with Louis' existence.

It's situations like this that remind Louis why he takes scent blockers when he travels. As much as he struggles to control his facial expressions, there's no hope for controlling his Alpha scent flaring when he's irritated.

Louis once again forces a polite smile and nod as he squeezes past the other man and into his seat. He crams his backpack under the seat in front of him and lets out a quiet curse as he fights with his seatbelt, flipping it over until he finally gets it to click in properly. As the plane begins to depart from the gate, he leans back against the seat, splaying his hands against his sweatpants and letting out a slow breath, finally allowing himself to relax.

"Would you like the shade down?"

The deep voice, silky and threaded with a clear British accent, comes so unexpectedly, it takes Louis a moment to realise the question was directed at him. He lifts his head off the seat and turns towards the source of the voice. Even at first glance, he's caught off guard by how effortlessly attractive his seatmate is. His hair is a bit unruly, curling around the edges of his face, green eyes sparkling, and the top few buttons of his loose shirt are undone, revealing — are those…? Yeah, those are definitely birds. — birds tattooed on his chest.

It's annoying.

Louis rolls his eyes behind his shades for what must be the millionth time this morning.

"What?" He asks, not bothering to keep the sharp edge from his tone.

"Oh. I just…the window shade. Would you like it down?" The stranger asks almost sheepishly, a slight tint rising in his cheeks.

Definitely annoying.

"Erm, whatever you want is fine," Louis says, really not caring one way or the other.

A smile spreads across his seatmate's face. "Oh! Well, if you're sure, I think I'll leave it up," he says, far too cheerfully for Louis' liking. "If you really don't mind…?" It's posed as a question more than a statement, but when Louis provides no response, he continues. "It'll be nice to see the sun setting as we fly. The pictures will be great!"

Louis lays his head back against the seat with a short "Yup", hoping to disengage from the conversation. He closes his eyes, planning to use the flight to get some much-needed rest, though that plan lasts all of two minutes before that voice starts up again.

"It's lucky you made the flight. I think they were just about to close the door when you came on."

"Right." Louis responds shortly, unmoving, as he hopes the stranger will take the hint and leave him alone.

He doesn't.

"Did you get to the airport three hours early? They say to arrive three hours early for international travel. It always surprises me when people wait to show up."

That's enough to pull Louis' attention back, turning to face his seatmate once more, finding those green eyes already on him, waiting expectantly. Louis lets out a huff.

"Three hours early?" Louis asks incredulously. "You've been at the airport for three hours?"

The young man nods, though he turns a little sheepish as though he's said something wrong.

"The security lines are always unpredictable. Especially for international travel."

Louis just stares at him for a moment, mouth parted slightly and brow furrowed as if trying to understand a complex maths equation. His seatmate shifts slightly under his shaded gaze.

"I'm Harry, by the way. Well, all my friends call me H, but my name is Harry."

Louis, seemingly pulled from his thoughts, raises a brow slightly at this new (and unwanted) information. "Harry or H," he repeats before asking, "Not Harold?"

Harry's brow furrows in distaste at the presented option. "No. Not Harold."

Louis lets out a deep, exasperated sigh.

"Well, Harold. My name is Louis and I did not arrive at the airport three hours early, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say you already knew that. I would've been here further in advance of my flight had my boss not booked me the flight that leaves two hours after our meeting ended."

Harry's mouth falls open. "Two hours?" He repeats under his breath. "Oh, I would have been so stressed."

Louis' eyes narrow as he replies. "Really? I found it to be quite enjoyable."

Harry's brow pinches at the sarcastic remark, but he quickly moves on. "So you were in LA for work? I was too. Though I'm a wedding photographer, so I'm kind of my own boss, so I was able to choose my flight more conveniently."

"Neat," Louis says flatly. He's just about to lay his head back against the seat once more when the flight attendant comes over the speaker system.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be departing shortly for our 10 hour and 15 minute flight to Dublin. We ask that you…"

The rest of whatever the flight attendant was about to say is completely drowned out, as all Louis can focus on is Dublin. He frowns as he quickly reaches forward, pulling his backpack out from under the seat in front of him.

"Umm, I think you're meant to leave your bags under the seat while we take off."

Louis barely registers Harry's weak attempt to warn him, brushing it off as he digs around in his bag until he finds his boarding pass. He lets out a scoff as his eyes scan across the details.

"Who the fuck books a flight from LA to London with a layover in Dublin?"

"Well, I did because it was the cheapest option," Harry admits quietly.

Louis turns back to look at Harry. "What?"

A small blush rises in Harry's cheeks as if he hadn't expected Louis to actually hear him. "I just…travelling quite a bit for weddings, I always look for the most affordable flights." He pauses for a moment before continuing, feeling the need to justify himself further. "I mean, sure, you could book nonstop flights, but I didn't think a two and a half hour layover was really so bad if it saved a few hundred pounds."

Louis lets out a scoff at this new information, shoving his backpack back underneath the seat. It was the cheapest option. His boss being frugal with his airfare on top of everything else that had happened this week was like salt in the wound.

"Of course it fucking was," he mumbles as he leans back in his seat, letting out a deep sigh.

This time Harry decides not to comment.

☁︎ •° ঌᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°• ☁︎

When the plane is finally cleared for departure, it starts down the runway, quickly picking up speed before lifting into the air. Harry’s hand moves to the armrest, gripping it tightly, his arm bumping Louis’.

Louis lets out a small huff and turns to Harry, ignoring the fact that he's clearly on edge.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh, sorry." Harry responds instinctively, before he even knows what it is that he is apologising for. "I'm a slightly nervous flyer."

Louis' brow raises questioningly. "You're a wedding photographer that's willing to travel halfway across the world for the job, but you hate flying?"

"I said I'm a nervous flyer. Not that I hate flying." He pauses for a moment before adding. "Besides, some of the most beautiful weddings I've been to have required me to fly to them."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Right, because weddings within driving distance would be too practical."

"It's not about the practicality, it's about capturing the loveliest, most important moments of two people's lives," Harry says, his lips turned down in a small pout. "And if I'm the person a couple is trusting to do that, I'd gladly get on a plane. Even if I am a little nervous during takeoff and landing."

Louis bristles slightly. loveliest, most important moments of two people's lives. Right. He pulls himself back before his thoughts get the chance to go too deep.

"Well, aren't you heroic," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Harry drops his gaze, a slight colour rising in his cheeks.

"It's not about me, it's about the couples," he mumbles quietly.

Louis can't help but roll his eyes. "Right, well, you're still hogging my armrest."

Harry's eyes lift back to meet Louis' then, his forehead crinkled in confusion. "What?"

Louis looks pointedly from Harry to where their elbows are bumping before looking back at Harry. "You're hogging my armrest."

The crease in Harry's brow deepens as he glances down at their arms. "It's not your armrest," he says simply as he looks back to Louis. "Your armrest is on the other side." Harry keeps his arm on the armrest, using his other to point towards the one on Louis' left.

Louis quickly looks at the other armrest before turning back to Harry, his eyes narrowed.

"No, you get the window, so I get the armrest. That's how it works."

Harry lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. "What?" He shakes his head. "No, I get this armrest, the one to my left. You get the one on your left, and the gentleman on the end gets the one on his left. That's how it works. We each get one."

"Oh, so you think you should have both the view and an armrest?" Louis says, raising his eyebrows before nodding slightly, his voice still holding a strong, sarcastic edge. "Right, seems fair."

"I get the view because I chose to sit in a window seat. Each seat comes with a designated armrest regardless."

"Or, I get two armrests because I'm stuck in the middle. The window comes with the window seat, and the armrests come with the middle seat. Just like the aisle seat comes with the ability to stretch your legs out into the aisle." He pauses for a moment before thoughtfully adding, "Or get up and use the loo whenever you want."

Harry stares at him blankly for a moment as if trying to figure out how exactly Louis has managed to come to these conclusions. "That's not how it works."

"That's absolutely how it works, Harold." Louis doesn't miss the slight shift in Harry's posture at the name. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it at least a little bit.

Harry's eyes narrow, his earlier nerves seemingly gone.

"Fine. We share it. Do you want to go in intervals or halves?"

Louis' brow raises, suddenly intrigued. "I negotiate contracts for a living, Harold. You may want to rethink this."

"Lucky me. Who do you think draws up all of my client contracts?" Harry retorts, a small hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Louis' own mouth twitches in response, surprised by the sudden boldness in his seatmate, a definitely welcome change. "We switch every two and a half hours and you get four visits to use the loo and stretch your legs but you aren't allowed to wake me to use them."

"I thought this was just about the armrest."

"Those are my terms, Harold. Take them or leave them."

Harry thinks for a moment before shifting in his seat to fully face Louis as he counters. "We switch every two and a half hours, I get five chances to get up, and you stop calling me Harold."

"Oi, no. You just countered with making me get up once more during the flight and lessen my annoyance on you. That hardly seems fair." He pauses as he considers a different offer. "We switch every two and a half hours, you can have your five seat exits but I will continue to call you Harold."

Harry contemplates before nodding. "Deal," he says as he stretches his hand out towards Louis.

Louis shakes his hand, quickly adding, "Oh and you use your photography skills, if you actually have any, to take a half-decent photo of the clouds that I can send to my sisters," he says nodding towards the window.

A look of surprise flashes across Harry's face, not expecting the last-second addition. He looks back at the window before turning back to Louis, a small smile spreading across his lips. "Deal."

Harry takes the first turn with the armrest and Louis finally gets a bit of rest as he lies against the seat.

Hours 0.5 - 3 - Harry's Turn

About 2 hours into the flight, the cabin crew begins serving the complimentary dinner. With the lights being turned on, Louis wakes with a grumble, squinting his eyes against the bright intrusion.

Within 30 seconds of waking, he's met with the now familiar voice of Harry.

"Good morning! They're just about to serve dinner."

"So I've heard," Louis says as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, shifting in his seat to wake up more.

Harry looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Did you have a good nap?"

Louis lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Harold, have you ever had a decent sleep on an aeroplane?"

"It can be nice sometimes," Harry says with a slight shrug.

Louis lets out a huff of a laugh, expecting nothing less than the optimism. "It was shit. But thanks for asking," he says sarcastically.

The flight attendant makes their way to their row and passes down the little dinner boxes.

Harry lets out a small gasp as he opens the box. "Oooohh, I love pasta!"

Louis just shakes his head as he opens his own box and begins eating dinner. He would've thought that having food would occupy one's mouth enough to avoid further conversation.

He would've been wrong.

"You said you were in Los Angeles for a work conference?" Harry enquires after only a few minutes of blissful silence.

"Yes, Harold, I was in LA for a work conference, just as you were there for a wedding, which I'm sure was a cliche on the beach but brought tears to your eyes anyway."

Harry shakes his head as he finishes a bite of his pasta. "It wasn't on a beach. And it was far from a cliche. It was actually very lovely! It was at this place called The 1909. The ceremony was out on this wooden deck completely covered by the canopies of two giant oak trees, so the foliage all hangs down and creates this fairytale-esque space with fairy lights and—"

"I'm sure it was great," Louis cuts in coldly.

Harry frowns into his pasta, a little caught off guard by the abrupt interruption. Louis watches as Harry takes another bite of his pasta, tongue first. He can't help but be intrigued by the odd behaviour, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't find it at least a little endearing.

It's annoying. As with everything else about Harry.

"You said you negotiate contracts for work?" Harry asks after a moment.

Louis lets out a hum as he bites into his dinner roll.

"Mmhm, yeah. I'm a contract manager for a mergers and acquisitions firm."

"Oh, that sounds interesting!" To Louis' surprise, he sounds genuinely interested. Harry lets out a soft, nervous laugh. "Though to be honest, the only knowledge I have on mergers and acquisitions is from Working Girl."

Louis can't help the soft laugh that bubbles out of him, a small smile pulling at his lips. "To be fair, there's a decent foundational knowledge there."

"Then again, my knowledge may be overshadowed by the images of Harrison Ford looking like a delectable Alpha," Harry adds nonchalantly with a thoughtful shrug.

Louis almost chokes on his roll. Right then. His effortlessly attractive seatmate is an Omega. He had his suspicions but never likes to make assumptions.

Harry looks quite pleased with himself, a genuine smile spread across his lips as Louis looks over at him. When Harry turns back to his dinner, Louis continues to look at him for a moment, a fondness stirring in his chest.

Annoying.

He quickly clears his throat and turns back to his own dinner.

"So what kind of conference were you attending? Do they have like special mergers and acquisitions conferences?"

"Yeah, they have summits and conferences. Though this was more of a division-specific retreat-type thing."

"Oh? Like a team building retreat?"

"Sort of…every year, once the directors have had a chance to meet and analyse performance and outputs from the year prior, our division takes a few days to travel and work in a new city. It's usually a few, three, days where we have a lot of forecasting and planning meetings for the upcoming year, go out at night, etcetera, and then they end the retreat with a breakfast announcing all of the promotions."

"That's nice. Kind of like a celebration of the previous year's accomplishments and planning for the year ahead."

Louis nods in agreement until he hears the next words that leave Harry's mouth.

"Did you get a promotion?"

He bristles slightly, jaw tensing. "No." His tone is short as he wipes his hands on his napkin. "Thought I was going to."

"Oh," Harry says quietly. "Why didn't you?"

Louis shoves his dinner remnants back into the little box a bit more aggressively than necessary. "Gave it to my coworker whose arse I've been covering for months."

Harry's brow furrows as he looks over at Louis. "Well, that doesn't seem fair."

Just then the flight attendant stops by their seat row to collect their rubbish. Louis passes his empty dinner box over to the flight attendant with a quiet "Thank you". Harry reaches over Louis to pass the flight attendant his empty box when he accidentally drops his cup. It hits the armrest, spilling ice into Louis' lap and onto the floor.

"Christ!"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! Let me…" Harry quickly reaches for his napkin and begins attempting to wipe the ice from Louis' sweatpants.

Despite the situation, Louis feels the familiar stir in his stomach as Harry's hands make their way into his lap. He quickly grabs Harry's wrist and pulls it back, wiping the ice onto the floor himself.

Once the ice is clear, he lets out a sharp huff.

"Yeah, well, life's not the fairytale, 'Happily Ever After' and roses you see all the time."

Harry opens his mouth to respond, but before he has the chance, Louis cuts him off, shoving his arm from the armrest.

"It's my turn," he says sharply as he shifts to lie back against his seat. Just before he does, he turns to Harry one last time.

"You eat like a cat by the way."

Hours 3 - 5.5 - Louis' Turn

Louis is peacefully sleeping when the plane hits a small patch of turbulence. The plane jostles some, but only enough for him to stir a little. That is until his Alpha suddenly rips him awake. His eyes fly open, body going rigid as the slightest hint of burnt sugar hits his nose.

“Oh for fuck's sake,” he breathes out, turning to face Harry. “You didn’t take blockers??” he asks quietly, his voice harsher than he'd intended.

“Of course I did,” Harry says almost immediately, his fingers gripping the top of his thigh. “Well, technically not," he adds after a moment, then quieter, "I don’t take blockers. I don’t like the way they make me feel. I use patches.” He turns his head slightly, just enough for Louis to see the outline of the patch against his neck.

Louis lets out a sigh as he tries to calm his own inner unrest. “Hate to break it to you, love, but you need to find a better brand.”

Harry pauses momentarily and Louis can tell he's surprised the Alpha can even smell his scent. It's not strong but it is definitely noticeable. Harry quickly looks past Louis to the gentleman at the end of their row. He, thankfully, seems to be oblivious, most likely a Beta.

“It's not…it's not the brand,” Harry says quietly, turning slightly red as he focuses back on Louis. “I thought I’d had enough patches with me, but I was one short, so I had to reuse the one I wore yesterday.”

Louis lets out an indignant breath of a laugh. “Good call, that,” he says sarcastically. “Could you at least try to calm down then? You're going to drive me insane."

Just then the plane jostles again and Louis' hit with another wave of the Omega's bitter scent.

“Right. Ok,” he mumbles exasperatedly as he leans forward to pull his backpack from under the seat in front of him. He unzips it and pulls out the jumper he'd worn the night before.

“Here. Just take this.” He holds the jumper out to the distressed Omega. Harry hesitates, unsure, his eyes flicking between Louis and the jumper. But when the plane bumps once more, he reaches out and takes it. He hesitantly brings it to his nose, taking a small sniff. As the scent floods his senses, his shoulders visibly relax and he brings the jumper up to nuzzle against his cheek.

Louis rolls his eyes, though a fond warmth floods his chest. Seeing the effect his scent has on Harry is oddly satisfying. He hasn't had that feeling since—

Louis' thoughts are cut off as Harry looks back at him. Harry tucks the jumper between his head and the side of his seat, his nerves visibly settling. "Thank you."

Louis shakes his head softly before laying back against his seat. "Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it."

☁︎ •° ঌᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°• ☁︎

"Louis," Harry whispers as he nudges Louis' arm. "Louis."

Louis' brow furrows in his sleep as he grumbles.

Harry shakes his arm slightly as he tries again, voice a little louder. "Lou."

At the sudden nickname, Louis pulls one eye open to look at Harry. "I told you, you can't use your stretch breaks when I'm sleeping." He pauses for a moment, letting his eye fall shut once more. "Besides, you've already used two of them. Gonna run out before we even reach the Atlantic."

"No, I know. I'm…I'm not. I just…give me your phone."

"What?" Both eyes are open now as he turns to face Harry properly.

"The clouds are gorgeous right now and we're going to be flying into night soon. Part of our negotiation was to get a picture to send to your sisters?"

Louis' face softens. He had completely forgotten about that part of their deal and is surprised Harry had kept it in mind. He pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and hands it over to Harry. He watches as Harry slides to open the camera and holds it up to the window, immediately adjusting the different settings, half of which Louis didn't even know existed.

Harry takes a few pictures, adjusting the settings and taking a few more, before scrolling back through them. Seemingly satisfied with the results, he passes the phone back to Louis.

"There. Should have a few good ones to choose from."

"Thanks." Louis takes his phone back from Harry, opening his gallery and looking at the new additions. He's stunned into silence as he takes in the details captured in the photos.

"These are actually really incredible, Harold," Louis says, unable to keep the slight fondness from his tone.

Harry glances down, a slight blush rising in his cheeks as the corners of his lips turn up into a smile. "Thanks."

It's then that Louis notices the open laptop on Harry's tray table, an open gallery of photos on the screen. "You took those too?"

Harry looks from his lap to his laptop and then to meet Louis' questioning gaze. He nods softly.

"Yeah. The LA wedding. Was just working on editing them."

"Already?" Louis asks as Harry begins clicking through the pictures.

Harry nods, humming softly.

"Mhm, usually I upload all the pictures from my camera to my laptop as soon as I get back from the reception and send a handful of unedited photos to the couple so they have a sample. Then I'll usually try to start editing the next day."

Louis lets out a low whistle as pictures of the venue, a lodge-esque building with a beautiful green lawn adorned with fairylights and drapery, move across the screen.

"That's a quick turnaround."

"Well, they can take a while to edit. So I try to get started as soon as possible so the couple isn't waiting for ages."

"How long's it usually take?"

Harry shrugs his shoulders slightly.

"Actual editing time really depends."

"On…?" Louis prompts expectantly.

Harry lets out a soft breath of a laugh.

"Well, things like how many photos I took to begin with, if I was there for just the ceremony, or stayed for some or all of the reception. Venue, like if the lighting wasn't great or if it wasn't a private location so there were things, or people, in the background. If the weather was uncooperative, like if it was especially windy or something. Or if there were unruly guests that photobombed particularly nice shots of the couple, etcetera, etcetera."

He pauses for a moment as Louis' eyes continue moving over the images on the screen.

"I try to have the full gallery back to the couple within 2 or 3 weeks."

Louis' eyebrows raise as he turns from the laptop screen to look at Harry.

"A very quick turnaround. Harold, 2 or 3 weeks?? I thought most wedding photographers took like 6 to 8 weeks!"

Harry nods thoughtfully, considering his response as the pictures move to the ceremony space, a large wooden deck, covered by the canopy of two large oak trees, more fairylights hanging from the foliage.

"Yeah, that's what most say. 2 to 3 weeks gives me an edge over my competitors."

"Smart," Louis says, rather impressed.

As the pictures slowly turn from photos of the venue and ceremony space itself to the detail shots, Louis' stomach begins to twist. Pictures of the invitation, the Save the Dates, the decor and centrepieces, flowers, the cake, the fucking wedding bands, even a picture of the groom's cologne in the dressing room. All the little details he knows too well the couple put so much time and care into picking out, overthinking everything and just hoping it will be perfect.

His jaw clenches. Harry, far too observant for his own good, takes notice, his brow furrowing.

"What? Was there something wrong with that one?" He asks quickly, going back to the previous picture.

"No," Louis says coldly as he straightens in his seat. "It's fine."

Harry lets out a slightly nervous laugh. "Are you sure? You look like the picture personally offended you or something."

Louis' eyes narrow. "It did." He lies back against his seat as he mumbles under his breath. "All that planning for a day that's just a facade anyway."

Harry's brow pinches, surprised. "What?"

"Nothing."

Louis closes his eyes as if attempting to shut down the conversation, but Harry's not ready to let it go that easily.

"No, that's not nothing."

Louis lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to glance over at Harry. "I'm just saying, they probably put more time and energy into those tiny details than they ever have each other."

Harry looks like he's been physically wounded. As if Louis has ripped out his big, hopeless romantic, love-loving heart and torn it to pieces right in front of him.

"Why…why are you so cynical?"

Louis lets out a huff, turning to Harry as he sits up straighter.

"Just because I gave you my jumper does not mean I'm going to have this conversation with you." He says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "It's your turn." With that, he stands and excuses himself past the gentleman in the aisle seat to walk and stretch his legs.

Hours 5.5 - 8 - Harry's Turn

When Louis returns to his seat, he's pleasantly surprised to see that Harry isn't there. He knows he'll be back, that he hasn't magically left the aircraft, but he's happy to enjoy the moment of peace. He takes the chance to look out the window, the sky completely dark now, illuminated only by the incessant blinking of the light on the wing. His lungs fill with a deep breath before slowly letting it out as he tries to settle his emotions; to box away all the memories that had unexpectedly been brought forward.

Louis is lost in his thoughts when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He, of course, doesn't have to look to know who it is. He lets out a sigh before turning, seeing Harry standing there with an awkward smile.

It's annoying.

He gets up from his seat, but only because the gentleman in the aisle seat is already standing and looking at Louis expectantly. Harry mumbles a quiet "Thanks" as he slides back into his seat, followed into the row by Louis.

"This counts as one of your times to get up, by the way." Louis grumbles, buckling his seatbelt. "Don't think that just because I was already up when you left, it means you get a free pass."

"Free pass? I wouldn't dream of it." Harry offers Louis a small smile, most likely in hopes of relieving some of the earlier tension.

It doesn't.

Louis leans back in his seat, closing his eyes in attempts to get some more sleep. They're somewhere over the Atlantic and while it's only 6:00pm in LA, it's already 2:00am in London and if he has any hopes of trying to beat the jet lag, he'd like to get as much sleep as possible.

☁︎ •° ঌᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°• ☁︎

He doesn't know how much time passes before he finally gives up on sleep. His thoughts and memories running too wild in his head. He shifts in his seat, turning to see Harry still working on editing the LA wedding photos on his laptop.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Louis questions quietly, a slight edge to his voice.

Harry, zeroed in on his work, takes a moment to register Louis' words before slowly pulling his gaze from his laptop to look at Louis.

"Oh, um, I usually can't sleep on flights. Too anxious."

Louis raises a brow questioningly.

"Thought you were only a 'slightly nervous flyer'."

"I may have lied," he admits quietly, a slight tint rising in his cheeks as his teeth worry his bottom lip. "The jumper helps, though," he adds after a moment, gesturing to Louis' jumper still tucked between the seat and his cheek, a soft smile spread across his lips.

Louis' stomach flutters at the admission, the knowledge that his jumper — his scent — is able to calm the Omega. His Alpha preens, no matter how much he wants to stay annoyed.

That in and of itself is annoying.

He rolls his eyes and drops his head back against the seat. He's about to scroll through the inflight entertainment when the seatbelt sign dings on, followed by the captain coming over the announcement system.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are beginning to approach a storm system which will likely bring some mild turbulence over the next half hour or so. For your safety, we have turned on the Fasten Seatbelt sign and have advised our cabin crew to take their seats. We will do our best to navigate around the worst of the weather, but ask that you please ensure your seatbelts remain securely fastened and any loose items be secured. Thank you for your understanding."

Louis lets out a groan before noticing the way Harry has stiffened beside him. Right. Storms and turbulence will go over great with a nervous flyer. Harry calmly saves the photo he was working on before tucking his laptop back into his bag and under the seat in front of him, placing the tray table back in its upright position.

When the first sign of turbulence jostles the plane, Harry clutches Louis' jumper a little tighter, turning his face into it to try and get the full effect of the Alpha's fading scent.

"Christ," Louis mutters under his breath as he catches the faint smell of Harry's bittering scent once more. He decides not to comment, knowing the Omega is, clearly, already nervous. He tries to ignore it, though his Alpha is stirring inside him.

As the plane bumps and shakes a little more, the Omega's scent intensifies. It's still faint, the scent blocker patch keeping it partly at bay, but Louis can smell it and the more he smells it, the more his Alpha wants to do something about it.

The plane makes a sudden drop, a quick loss of lift as it navigates the storm.

That's when it happens. Quiet, barely there, but unmistakable.

Harry whimpers.

Before Louis knows what he's doing, his Alpha reacts. He shifts in his seat, scooting closer to Harry, the armrest between them pressing into his side, as he wraps his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulls him against him.

They both still for a moment, not entirely sure how to feel about their new position, until Harry relaxes against Louis. Louis' arms tighten around him as Harry lays his head against his chest.

Louis lifts the armrest between them, pulling Harry closer until he's practically leaned against Louis fully. The plane continues to bump and shake as it flies through the storm. When it makes another particularly large jolt, Harry whimpers quietly once more, another wave of burnt sugar hitting Louis' nose as Harry presses closer against the Alpha's chest.

The gentleman next to Louis glances over at them with a questioning gaze and Louis' eyes narrow. "You have a problem, mate?"

The Beta shakes his head before turning back to the screen in front of him.

Louis tightens his arms around Harry, pressing his face into the Omega's hair as he tries to comfort him. "Alright, it's alright." He pauses for a moment, thinking of how best to distract the distressed Omega. "How about you tell me about the LA wedding, hmm?"

Despite his current state of unease, Harry lets out a small huff. "Thought you didn't want to hear about the wedding."

Louis' lips quirk up into a smile, his hand brushing over Harry's arm. "Humour me."

Harry hesitates for a moment, but then the plane shakes again, making his decision for him. "It was a lovely evening ceremony."

"In the trees?" Louis asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Harry lets out a soft laugh. "Under the trees' canopies, yeah." He pauses for a moment before continuing, the plane bumping. "It was small, intimate, only about 50 people. The couple had only been together for eight months when they got engaged."

Louis turns his head to the side to look down at Harry, barely holding back a scoff. "Eight months? How d'you know you want to spend the entire rest of your life with someone after just eight months??"

Harry shrugs, shifting slightly under Louis' arm. "I don't know. They just…knew, you know?"

At that Louis does scoff. "Right."

The plane jostles and Harry's fingers curl in the front of Louis' hoodie, reminding him why he's listening to this in the first place. He lets out a soft sigh.

"Fine, so they just knew."

Harry goes on to describe the wedding, his distressed scent lessening with each detail of the ceremony he describes, the meaningful pieces the couple included in their big day, how they wrote their own vows and how beautiful it was. All the while, Louis listens quietly, his jaw clenching and stomach twisting, but he holds his tongue, just trying to be there for the Omega.

As Harry's in the middle of describing the cake-cutting ceremony, in excruciatingly lovesick detail, the captain returns over the announcement system.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we seem to have passed through the majority of the storm system. There may be a few remaining bumps as we pass through the remainder of the rain, but we will be turning off the Fasten Seatbelt sign momentarily. We appreciate your cooperation as we navigated the storm system. Thank you."

Harry lets out an audible sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing even further as he stays pressed against Louis. They sit in a comfortable silence for another minute before Harry speaks quietly.

"It's your turn."

Louis lets out a soft huff. "Yeah, yeah, 's my turn. Just be quiet and stay here, yeah?" The Alpha tightens his arms around the Omega, less out of comfort and protection and more just because he can…and maybe a little because he wants to.

Hours 8 - 10.5 - Louis' Turn

"So…you going to tell me what happened to you?" Harry asks quietly after a few minutes.

Louis immediately stiffens against him at the sudden question. He wants to ask Harry what he means, but he can't. He knows exactly what Harry's asking. After a moment of silence, Louis responds, unable to keep the slight edge from his tone.

"No."

Harry shifts, lifting his head from the Alpha's chest, turning to look up at him, rounding his eyes in that way only an Omega can.

"You know, it would make me feel a lot better if you told me."

Louis looks down at Harry, letting out a soft huff, the corner of his lips pulling up despite himself.

"Think your time for using that as an excuse has passed, Harold."

Harry's lips turn down into a pout, his brow furrowing slightly as he mumbles.

"Still think you should tell me. Nobody says those things unless they've been hurt."

Louis' arms tighten instinctively around Harry, his jaw clenching. He swallows thickly before speaking, his voice quiet but still guarded.

"I was engaged." He pauses for only a moment. "And now I'm not. Simple stuff, really."

Harry's brow raises in surprise for a moment before his face softens again.

"Lou, that's not…that's not just 'simple stuff'."

Louis refuses to meet his eyes as Harry looks up at him. He can practically feel the pity in his gaze and he hates it. This is exactly why he avoids talking about it.

Harry shifts against Louis until he catches his eyes.

"Tell me what happened."

Something about the softness in Harry's voice breaks Louis down. It's not just pity. There's something deeper there, a genuine concern. He lets out a slow breath, bringing his hand up to push through the Omega's curls as he looks at him.

"Luke," he says, the name bitter on his tongue. "Luke happened."

Harry just looks at him, patiently waiting for Louis to continue.

"I met him in uni. Coming from a big family, it's easy to get lost in the noise sometimes. Luke was the first person in a while that made me feel seen." He hates admitting that, but it's true. He'd never trade his family for anything, but it was difficult sometimes, especially being the eldest. "I guess it was your typical uni romance. Spent the majority of our time together, constantly texting and calling over breaks, late nights out when we should've been preparing for exams."

Louis can feel Harry studying his face as the Omega listens to him talk. He's no longer looking at Harry though, lost in the memories as he recounts them. His fingers continue combing through Harry's curls, the absentminded gesture keeping him grounded.

"We'd been together for just over three years when I proposed, though I'd spent the majority of the year prior planning the proposal. I was so excited when he said yes." A sad smile pulls at Louis' lips as he stares past Harry, out the window.

"I immediately dove into planning the wedding. Every spare minute I had, I spent researching and compiling lists of venues, photographers, caterers, florists— everything. Weekends were spent driving to the different venues to tour, visiting florists, and flipping through colour swatches. Nights and lunch breaks spent going to cake testings, tux fittings, my email flooded with quotes from photographers and caterers. All while working my ass off to make sure we could afford the best, that it would be absolutely perfect."

Louis pauses, letting out a soft, humourless laugh. "I spent months just trying to find the perfect cologne to wear on the day I'd be promising the rest of my life to someone."

Harry brings his hand up to cover Louis' rested on his arm. The sudden touch pulls Louis back to the present, finally looking back down at Harry. He takes a deep breath before he continues.

"One night, I was planning to stay late at work, but I ended up not feeling well, so I'd gone home earlier than I'd intended. That's when I found my fiancé in bed with another Alpha."

A soft gasp falls from Harry's lips, his eyes widening as Louis continues.

"Apparently, they met outside the cafe where we'd had one of our cake tastings. I was running late because my meeting went long." He pauses for a moment. "Had I just been there five minutes sooner, I—"

"No. Lou, no. That had nothing to do with you being late." Harry shakes his head slightly as he cuts him off, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Luke clearly had no intentions of being loyal to you. If anything, it was a good thing you were late that day so it happened before you were married to that douchecanoe."

Louis can't help but let out a soft huff of a laugh. "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right."

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment before Harry speaks quietly.

"You deserve so much better than that."

Louis lets out a slow, deep breath. He knows this. Of course he does. But there's something about the way Harry looks up at him as he says it. Rather than pity, his eyes are filled with pure affection and a sense of safety.

Louis just looks at him. He doesn't say anything. He can't. Doesn't quite have the words. So he just looks, a warmth spreading through his chest as his own eyes reflect a sense of trust and vulnerability. He can tell Harry's getting tired, his body slowly growing heavier against Louis'. He pushes his fingers back through Harry's curls and swallows thickly before speaking softly.

"Sleep, Omega."

Harry holds Louis' gaze for a moment longer before dipping his head and nuzzling tightly against the Alpha.

☁︎ •° ঌᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°• ☁︎

As Harry lies against him sleeping, Louis decides to scroll through the inflight entertainment. He can't help but smile when he sees Working Girl on the list. Careful not to disturb Harry, he connects his headphones and presses play.

Shortly before beginning their final descent into Dublin, the cabin crew makes their way through the cabin one last time. When the flight attendant stops at their row, she speaks to the gentleman on the aisle before turning to Louis and Harry.

She smiles warmly as she takes in the sight of Harry curled tightly against Louis, Louis' arm draped around Harry, holding him close. When Louis notices her presence, he looks over at her.

"Can I get you two anything?" She asks kindly.

Louis offers her a soft, genuine smile as he shakes his head.

"No, we're alright. Thank you."

☁︎ •° ঌᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°• ☁︎

Just as they're about to land, Harry begins to stir against Louis' chest. Louis gently rubs his hand over Harry's arm as he smiles down at him.

"Good morning, Harold. Sleep well?"

Harry gives Louis a soft smile as he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah. You're comfy," he says, nodding softly as he shifts to sit straighter in his seat, preparing for landing.

Louis smiles back at him as he rights himself in his own seat. As the plane quickly approaches the ground, Louis catches another small wave of Harry's scent, tinged bitter. He lowers the armrest between them, settling his arm on it and turning his hand over, before looking at Harry expectantly. Harry looks down at Louis' waiting hand before looking back at him. A small smile quickly replaces the look of surprise as Harry threads his fingers through Louis'.

When the plane lands with a sharp bump and a roaring rush, Harry's hand tightens around Louis'. Louis leans a little closer, brushing his thumb over Harry's knuckles as the flight attendant comes over the announcement system one last time.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we'd like to be the first to welcome you to Dublin."

Dublin, Ireland

During the two and a half hour layover, Louis and Harry decide to have a meal together after making it through passport control and security. It's 6:30am in Dublin, but it's still only 10:30pm in LA, so they go with the one food that could be a late dinner or a far too early breakfast after a night out — they share a pizza.

As they eat, they talk more about their lives, their careers, what they do in their free time, their friends, etc. As it turns out, they discover that they have a mutual friend who owns a small cafe equidistant to their flats that they both visit regularly. They decide they'll have to stop in and surprise Niall once they make it back to London.

With each shared detail, Louis finds himself softening more and more. It seems the walls he's built for himself, to Harry, are paper thin.

It's annoying.

He finds himself laughing more than he has in months, the conversation easy and the quiet pauses comfortable. With every brush of their fingers, every moment their eyes meet, the constant warmth in Louis' chest continues to spread. By the time their connecting flight is called for boarding, Louis realises the annoyance might not actually bother him at all.

When they go to board the plane, Louis takes Harry's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He looks over at the Omega, unable to contain the fond feeling spreading through his chest as Harry gives him a soft smile.

"Where do you want to sit?" Harry asks quietly as they make their way down the jet bridge.

"Next to you." Louis responds easily. He pauses for a moment before adding, "But I get the window seat this time."

"Fine. Then I get both armrests."

Louis lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. He squeezes the Omega's hand tighter, a smile spreading across his lips despite himself. Harry just looks back at him with those sparkling green eyes and a smile that could melt any cold Alpha's heart.

Fucking annoying.