Archive of Our Own

It was dark and the atmosphere was heavy. The sky was black with large clouds and the wind was blowing hard. Harry yawned loudly, fighting to keep his eyes open. He was exhausted and only dreamed of snuggling in his bed. The streets were empty and he pressed down  harder on the gas pedal with his foot. He drove along the Thames, to Greenwich, passing by the National Maritime Museum. A few minutes later, he turned  left, drove down Diamond Terrace and finally turned  right on the cul-de-sac he lived in. He parked in front of the stunning period house. He rushed outside and the cold wind slapped him in the face. God, he already missed the warm weather of the Californian coast. Shivering, he opened the trunk and took out his heavy suitcase. He walked up the few steps to the door and sighed with relief when his key easily slid in the lock.

The house was empty, dark and cold. If it weren't his house, Harry would have thought it was inhabited and haunted by ghosts. But it was his house, and Louis' sneakers were by the door. At least he had not deserted the house. Not yet. Harry kicked his boots off and directly made his way to the staircase. He climbed the stairs as quietly as possible, avoiding the third step that always creaked under his weight. He stopped in front of the master bedroom, feeling a bit weak. He put his hand on the doorknob and hesitated. The silence in the house made his ears buzz and all he could hear was his hammering heart. He didn't know if Louis was asleep, or if he was sitting on the bed, clutching at the sheets, wondering if Harry would walk through the door. Harry let his hand fall by his side and shook his head. He didn't want to fight tonight.

He headed to the guest bedroom and shut the door behind him. He stripped off his clothes, grabbed his phone and fell face down on the bed. He slipped under the blankets and snuggled against his pillow. He sent a quick text to his mom saying he was home. It was 3 in the morning, but she always asked him to warn her after a flight. He had many notifications and unread texts from clients and friends. Lots of news letting him know about the current coronavirus situation. He put his phone under his pillow, swallowed down the bubble of anxiety tightening his throat and shifted more under the blankets. It was too late to think about a virus that was about to destroy the world.

***

The next morning, Harry was startled awake by a loud bang coming from downstairs. He sat up quickly and the warm blanket fell off his chest, making him shiver. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was in London. Hewas dizzy with the jet lag and he felt exhausted, even though he had had a full seven hours of sleep. There was another loud bang and he groaned, kicking the blanket off his legs. Louis had never learnt how to close a fucking cupboard without slamming the door. Harry opened his suitcase and put flannel pajamas bottoms and a lilac jumper on. He ran a hand through his messed up hair and headed downstairs.

His heart beat a little faster when he spotted Louis in the kitchen. His long hair was falling in front of his eyes and he was frowning, looking like he couldn't find what he was looking for in the cupboard. He was standing on his tiptoes and the simple sight made Harry feel weak in the knees.

"Um, hello," he said, feeling a bit gauche. "Do you need help?"

Louis startled and jumped back, a shriek escaping his lips. He put a hand to his chest and looked angrily at Harry. The kettle was hissing loudly behind his back.

"For fuck's sake, don't you ever scare me like that again!" he hissed, crossing his arms on his chest. "And what the fuck are you doing here?"

Always so vulgar, even in the morning. It was too early to fight him, so Harry just walked around the counter and grabbed the packet of Yorkshire tea bags Louis was desperately trying to get to. Then he sat on a stool at the bar.

"I told you I'd come back," he simply answered.

"Fuck. I totally forgot," Louis winced. "Can't you stay at your mum's? It'd be easier for both of us."

"It's still my house."

Louis rolled his eyes, but served two cups of tea and pushed one over to Harry. At least he was still civil. Harry blew on his hot tea and watched Louis lean against the counter. They hadn't seen each other for several weeks, since Louis had decided that he had had enough. Louis had dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved. He looked older. He was wearing his wedding ring, which was quite a surprise. His Adidas joggers were too large for his petite frame and made him look thinner than he was. The sleeves covered his knuckles and Harry suddenly felt way too dumb to still love a man who didn't want him anymore.

"Why are you not at work?" he asked instead of telling Louis so.

"I've been working from home for a few days now," Louis explained, sipping his tea. "Dunno when I can go back to the office. The situation is getting worse in London. They say there's gonna be a lockdown. Why did you come back?"

"I wanna be close to my family and friends. My mum's scared and well-"

He didn't know how to end his phrase. The Covid situation was getting worse all around the world actually, staying here or in Los Angeles didn't really matter anyway. But Louis was an anxious person and Harry knew that he'd have a hard time dealing with it, even if he was too proud to say it out loud. Harry surely wouldn't have come back, if Johanna hadn't asked him to care for Louis. That's when he understood that Louis hadn't told anyone they were- well. He didn't even know what they were now. All he knew was that, even if Louis didn't love him anymore, Harry still cared about him.

He stood up and put his mug in the sink. He was about to head to the bathroom, but Louis blocked the way with his arm.

"Since you're here, you can have a look at these," he said, handing Harry sheets of paper.

Harry didn't even glance at what was written on the paper before tearing it up, looking at Louis right in the eyes. Louis looked frustrated, angry, but not really surprised. Harry pushed his arm away.

"For God's sake, Harry, how many times are you gonna…"

"Stop it," Harry hissed, suddenly on the defensive.

"It's really…"

"Louis, I'm gonna repeat it for the last time. You don't wanna talk to me and that's alright. But I don't want s divorce. I won't sign your fucking papers."

Harry gathered the little dignity he had left, with his old pajamas, his greasy hair and the pillow trace on his cheek, and quickly walked to the bathroom before Louis could answer. He locked the door and slid against it. The tiles were freezing under his bum.

His hands were shaking and he felt nauseous. He took a deep breath in and knocked his head on the door when he threw it back. They were about to celebrate their five years as husbands and Louis wanted a divorce. Three months earlier, when Harry had come back from an umpteenth trip to Los Angeles, he had found Louis sitting at the dining table, eyes lost in the void. Harry wasn't a soothsayer but he had immediately understood. It was not the first time it happened anyway.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he had asked, already knowing the answer.

"I can't do it anymore, Harry. It has to stop."

Harry. Not even baby or darling . His name had never sounded so cold coming from his mouth. Leaning against the doorframe, Harry had watched him take his suitcase but had blocked the way when Louis had walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To Niall's. I need a little time to myself."

"You can't leave like that, without saying a word, Lou. Talk to me. I don't want you to leave. You know how much I love you."

With his brows furrowed and his fists clenched, Harry was surprised Louis hadn't slapped him in the face.

"Talk to you?" he had repeated, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But you're never here! You always have better things to do on the other side of the world. That's not the life I want, that's not the life you promised me. I've always thought that love could help us overcome every difficulty, but now it's just not enough. I'm tired of fighting alone, Harry."

Harry had not answered. What could he have answered anyway? As usual, it was his fault. It was late, he had an eight-hour jet lag and dreamed of taking a hot shower. Louis knew all this.

"Listen, I'll call you tomorrow," Louis had sighed, sounding exhausted. "We'll talk about it."

But he had never called. Nor answered the numerous calls and texts Harry had sent him. So Harry went back to Los Angeles. Louis' indifference wasn't unknown to him. Louis was even quite good at this little game. Usually, Harry was the first one to give in and get on his knees to apologize. Then they would make love with passion and forget all their problems under the sheets. It had always been like that. But when Harry had received the divorce papers for the first time a few weeks earlier, he had thought Louis was too provocative. He had tried to call him so many times he couldn't count them. Then there had been a second enveloppe, and a third. And Louis still refused to talk to him. Communication had never been their strong point.

Harry was really cold, sat on the tiles. Behind the door, he could hear Louis slam a door shut. Harry stepped into the shower and let the hot water warm his skin. He wondered if it was a big mistake to have come back. Obviously, Louis didn't want him here. But at the same time… Well. He hoped that living together would help him convince Louis that getting divorced was a horrible idea.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went into the guest room to get dressed. When he came back downstairs, Louis was nowhere to be seen. He had surely locked himself up in his bedroom. Well. Their bedroom. Harry grabbed his wallet and his keys and left the house. If Louis still didn't want to talk to him in the evening, he'd surely have to find somewhere else to stay.

***

When Harry came back home in the evening, he wasn't expecting to be greeted that way.

"Take off your clothes," Louis shouted from the living room.

"What?" Harry frowned, kicking off his shoes.

He heard the little tap tap tap of socked feet on the wooden floor and soon Louis appeared in the hallway.

"I said, take off your clothes ," he repeated, as if Harry were deaf or completely stupid.

"Why the fuck do you want me to take off my clothes?"

It's not that he minded getting naked in front of Louis, but if he remembered well, Louis still wanted him to sign the divorce papers. And Harry surely didn't want to get involved in a sort of friends with benefits relationship.

Louis rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Have you not watched Contagion ?" he asked, tapping his feet against the floor.

"Yeah, but I still don't see your point."

"Your clothes could be infected. Take them off and put them in the washing machine. Where the fuck were you anyway?"

Some could have laughed for being so careful, but there was nothing laughable about a virus that killed so many people. Harry nodded and took his jumper off, looking Louis in the eyes. If he could tease him a little, he wouldn't say no.

"I was at my mum's," he answered, unbuttoning his jeans. "She was sad about not seeing you. She seemed a little worried."

"Have you told her that we've broken up?" Louis asked with wide eyes.

"Well, I'd rather say you broke up with me , but…"

"Harry, please, don't."

"Why didn't you tell people after all?"

"Because the situation is stressful enough and I don't want them to ask questions and… You know. I'll call your mum tomorrow. Where have you gone then? You left in the morning and it's almost six pm."

"What is this? An interrogation? Are you jealous?" Harry smirked, kicking his jeans off his legs.

Standing half-naked in front of Louis, with only his briefs and socks left, he was thrilled to see Louis blush. But Louis quickly recovered and straightened up, frowning.

"No I'm not," he snapped. "If you've seen too many people, then you could be infected and since you decided to be a little shit and stay here, well you could infect me too and I just don't wanna be sick."

"I've just seen my mum, Louis," Harry sighed. "I didn't even hug her or kiss her. I promise. Then I wanted to go to the supermarket but there were so many people… It looked like it was the end of the world. It's just getting crazy."

Harry was quite cold standing here, so he grabbed his clothes and brought them to the laundry room. He was about to head to his bedroom to change when Louis stopped him.

"Go take a shower. Please. Just to be sure."

Louis was almost pleading and his voice sounded frightened. Harry really wanted to take him in his arms and kiss him to soothe his fears. It was hard not being allowed to do so. Harry swallowed hard and simply nodded before going to the bathroom.

Under the hot spray, Harry's mind was racing with too many thoughts. He thought that Louis didn't act like a proper future ex-husband. He was quite indifferent, but not really hateful, and looked like he was quite open to conversation. He didn't fight hard for Harry to leave the house. On the contrary, Harry almost thought that he was relieved to have Harry by his side. It would be so hard to be on your own when the world looks like total chaos.

After he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing fresh grey sweatpants and a burgundy sweatshirt, Harry went to the living room. Louis was sitting on the couch, with his legs folded under his bum. He was typing on his phone, looking focused. Harry slumped down next to him and grabbed the remote. The Prime Minister was supposed to make an announcement soon and Harry could feel a bubble of anxiety make its way up his stomach. What was about to happen?

The atmosphere was a bit cold and heavy between them. Harry wondered how it could be so weird after spending ten years as lovers, five as husbands. If it was the end, he hoped that at least, they'd keep their relationship friendly. 

"Do you wanna order something to eat for tonight?" he asked, turning to Louis.

Louis didn't even lift his head from his phone before answering.

"Already done. I ordered pizza. I got you a Capricciosa."

Harry nodded and whispered a thanks , before focusing on the TV. It was his favorite pizza, from their favorite pizzeria, and Louis remembered. These insignificant details actually had their significance. Louis still cared. Why was it so easy to love him?

Their pizzas arrived thirty minutes later and they ate in silence in front of the TV, waiting for Boris Johnson to make his speech. When the Prime Minister finally appeared on the screen, Louis put his phone down, but for the whole time, it didn't stop buzzing. Harry couldn't help but wonder who the fuck was texting him. Jealousy was an understatement.

Harry didn't know how much time they spent in front of the TV, watching Boris Johnson stab them in the gut with his words. Lockdown, business closures, school and nursery closures, restrictions on movements and gatherings, penalty notice or prosecution if the rules weren't respected . Harry was feeling quite ill at ease. He had known strict rules were to be applied in order to keep the population safe. He had seen the news concerning France, Spain or Italy, forced to establish a lockdown. Yet he had thought that Britain would be an exception. These things only happened in apocalyptic movies. Yet here they were. What a fool he had been.

Harry didn't even care about the announcement anymore. He looked at Louis and what he saw frightened him more than being locked in his house for God knows how long. All the colour had drained from Louis' face. He looked like Death was watching him in the eyes. His blue eyes were shiny with tears and his upper lip was trembling. Harry didn't even have the time to make a move before Louis threw his remaining pizza on the coffee table and rushed upstairs. He slammed the bedroom door hard behind him, making Harry wince.

Harry decided that he had seen Boris Johnson's face enough for a decade and switched off the TV. He cleaned the table, washed the dishes and, once he felt brave enough to confront Louis' angriness, he went upstairs. He knocked on the bedroom door. He could hear Louis pacing about the room.

"Lou, open the door, please."

When no answer came, Harry pressed on the doorknob. The door was locked.

"Louis, I know it's distressing, but we can talk about it, I assure you that…"

"We're gonna stay locked in our house for weeks and all you have to say is it's distressing ? Are you fucking serious?"

"All I say is that it's gonna be hard but…"

"We won't be able to see our families and friends for weeks, Harry!"

"We need to stay safe, that's why…"

"And we're stuck together because you're just a son of a bitch and you came back just to torment me because I want a divorce!"

"Lou, I swear I wouldn't have come back if… I shouldn't tell you this but your mum told me she was worried about you and well… I couldn't tell her you threw me out, so I thought it would be…"

"Harry, I swear to God, don't even try to finish your sentence! I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine! I don't need you to babysit me! I'm a grown man!"

His voice was broken and high-pitched and Harry could tell he was about to cry. It broke his heart. He tried to open the door again.

"Open the door, please. You're freaking out and it scares me. If you're having a panic attack, I can…"

"I'm not having a panic attack! I just want you to get the fuck out! Get the fuck out of the house and out of my life! I'm not joking, I'm…"

Louis broke out in a sob and all Harry could hear now was his panting. Harry didn't care that Louis had been so harsh and insulted him that way, because he was definitely having a panic attack. He heard Louis slide against the door and he did the same. He hadn't dealt with Louis’ panic attacks in years and he felt a bit anxious himself.

"Alright, Lou, it's okay if you don't wanna open the door. I'm here. I won't leave. I've got you. You're safe."

Louis' breathing was hard behind the wooden door and his cries broken. But he didn't object, so Harry went on.

"What are four objects you can touch?"

Louis didn't answer for a moment, but Harry could already decipher  his panting soften.

"Harry, please, I…"

"Come on, tell me."

"Hum, there is the floor," Louis sighed, sniffing loudly. "And socks I forgot to put in the laundry. And a pair of jeans too. There’s also a plug in the wall."

"You won't put your fingers in it, will you?"

Despite the stressful and scary situation, Louis chuckled softly.

"No, I won't."

"Alright. You’re doing good. Give me three sounds you can hear right now."

"There is the wind blowing hard outside. A dog barking. And your stupid voice."

Harry couldn't help but smile. He leaned his head against the door. He wished Louis would open the door.

"Good job, Lou. Two smells, now?"

He heard Louis sigh heavily and sniff even more loudly.

"I dunno. My nose is stuffy. The laundry detergent I guess. And the smoke of my cigarettes."

"What a strange mix of smells," Harry giggled. "Okay, you're almost done now. Give me one taste."

"Salt. That is all."

Louis sounded exhausted and he certainly was. At least his breathing was even now.

"You did so good, baby."

The pet name had escaped his lips without warning and it left a sweet taste on Harry's tongue. He didn't take it back and Louis didn't complain. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, both sitting against each side of the door, their soft breathings becoming one. When Harry stood up to go to his bedroom, he heard Louis shuffle behind the door. He thought for a moment that Louis was going to open it, but only a soft whisper came.

"How are we going to survive this?"

Harry didn't know what he was implying, whether it was the future of the world when a virus was decimating the population, or the two of them getting stuck together in this quagmire. So he didn't answer. He quite agreed with Louis on one point. What was worse than staying locked in for weeks with your future ex-husband?

***

A few days had passed and Harry had started a new routine. Wake up at nine, work-out for an hour, take a shower, have a nice breakfast, work on his songs until the evening, have dinner, watch the news, feel anxious, and go to bed even if he couldn't fall asleep for hours. At first, he had thought that Louis would join him in his routine, but well. Louis spent his days locked in his room, only coming out to have a smoke, grab something to eat or take a shower. He didn't spare a glance at Harry and barely mumbled a hello when they crossed paths. Harry was hurt, but he didn't know what to do, so he let him be.

Harry sighed and looked at the few words he had written in his notebook.

Same lips red, same eyes blue

Same white shirt, couple more tattoos

But it's not you and it's not me

Tastes so sweet, looks so real

Sounds like something that I used to feel

But I can't touch what I see

He usually didn't like using his life to create and write new songs, because it always felt too personal and he wasn't sure if Louis would like being his muse, but right now he just needed to get it out of his head. He was sure he would never make a song out of these confused ideas, but he couldn't help it. A soft wind made the pages of his notebook fly about. Everyday he was grateful for having a small garden at the back of his house. The weather was good for the beginning of April and it was nice to relax in the sun and forget what was happening outside.

He was startled when his phone rang. Niall , read the screen. Harry smiled and pressed the button to open Facetime. Soon, he saw his childhood friend with messed-up hair, still wearing his pajamas.

"Hey, Ni!" Harry exclaimed, relaxing in his chair. "How are you? How's lockdown going for you?"

"I'm good, mate. Actually, I enjoy having nothing to do but chill all day."

"You're not working from home?"

"Of course I am. But they can’t control me when I'm home."

Niall winked at the camera and Harry rolled his eyes, giggling. He grabbed his glass of iced tea and took a sip.

"What about you, H?" Niall asked, laying on his couch. "You're in London? I thought you would've stayed in LA."

"Yeah, I went home like a day before the lockdown. Didn't want to get stuck all alone in the US."

"And how's work? Your clients won't miss you too much?"

Harry smiled. He could talk about his job for hours. He knew he was lucky to make a living off his passion.

"Of course not, they're not tyrants! And I've got some good news for you! I've got a new contract!" he announced proudly. "An indie-rock band was looking for a new songwriter and they chose me! I've got to write them a full album for next year."

"That's amazing!" Niall smiled wide. "By the way, I've listened to this Australian singer, you know, the one you wrote an album for a few months ago. I loved it! The lyrics were just- Wow. Amazing work. You're really talented."

Harry couldn't help but blush. Even if he knew that he was quite good, he was always embarrassed when people congratulated him. He had precisely chosen to be a songwriter because he wanted to stay behind the scenes. He didn't want to be exposed in the light.

"Niall, you're making me uncomfortable," he chuckled, biting his lip.

Niall rolled his eyes so much that Harry was sure he heard them hit the back of his head. He stretched his legs out in front of him, letting the sun warm up his skin.

"You should be aware of your talent," Niall went on. "You're like Louis, always underestimating yourself. That's so annoying. Anyway, what did Louis say about your new contract? He must be happy to have you home for the lockdown."

Harry didn't answer. He could feel Niall's burning look through the phone. He rubbed his neck, took a sip of his tea and hoped Niall would drop the subject. But he didn't.

"What's wrong?" he said in a soft voice. "What happened? You didn't break up, did you?"

Harry shook his head and pinched his lips. He didn't want to lie to his friend, but at the same time, he didn't want to worry him. But he knew that Niall wasn't stupid. It might be written on his face that something was wrong.

"You work too much, Harry," Niall sighed. "You're going to lose him. Last time I saw him, I really thought he was gonna kick your ass out."

Harry clenched his teeth. He really wanted to tell Niall that Louis wanted a divorce. He took a sip of his tea to ease the dryness in his throat.

"I don't have a choice, Niall," he winced. "This job is important to me. You know it, and Louis knows it too. He's the one who encouraged me to go to LA to have new contracts. It's always been like this."

"Not since you bought a flat there. You spend most of your time in LA now."

It hurt, but Niall was right. Six months ago, Harry had decided to buy a little flat in Los Angeles, tired of living in a hotel room every time he had to travel there. The news had left Louis numb and his friends had been unconvinced. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more Harry realized that it had marked the beginning of the end. It was true to say that he had spent more of the last six months in Los Angeles than in London. At home. Their home. He suddenly felt really stupid.

"I know I've worked a lot lately," he admitted. "But I make a really good living. I'm working hard for our comfort. You know how much Louis loves luxury."

"If there's something he loves more than luxury, it's you. It's a pity I have to remind you of this."

Niall's voice was calm and even. It sounded like he had waited an eternity to finally say what he was thinking. Niall had always been the direct witness of Harry and Louis' relationship. He had never taken sides, even when they were arguing roughly. Yet, now it was obvious that Harry was the villain in the story. It was hard to admit, but it was true.

"Did Louis ask you to spread the word?" Harry half whispered. "Because he refuses to talk to me."

"You know how proud he is," Niall chuckled. "No, he didn't ask me. But he’s spent enough nights at mine, whining about your absence. I'm not joking, mate, you could at least find time to call him, right? I can assure you that you spent several days without talking to him."

Harry's ego was hurt. Despite Niall's joyful manner, he was absolutely lecturing him. And what was worse was that he was right. Harry couldn't count the numerous times he had switched off his phone because he was in the middle of a writing session, that artistic inspiration couldn't wait and that when he had finally time for himself, it was already too late or too early in London and he didn't want to wake Louis up. But he knew deep down that it was just bullshit. He could have taken care of his husband, even if they were miles apart, if he had wanted to. At what time had he decided that his life full of sparkles and excess in Los Angeles was better than a simple and authentic one with a loving husband in London? Only then did Harry realize how much he had fucked up. He had thought Louis would stay by his side no matter what, and now he could only kick himself.

"Come on, Harry, don't be so dull," Niall giggled.

"I feel so bad. He doesn't deserve this. I thought… Well, I don't know what I thought."

"You love him, right?"

Harry almost dropped his phone on the stone terrace and he cursed loudly. He brought it back to his face, frowning. Niall was looking like an idiot behind the screen, as if the answer wasn't clearly obvious.

"Of course I love him," he groaned. "Fuck. You know he's the love of my life. I will never stop loving him."

"You should convince him then. He needs to see it, to hear it. And since you're stuck together for the next few weeks, well, you can hope for a miracle."

Harry couldn't help but smile, nodding. There was nothing to add. The lockdown might be a way to show Louis that he was aware of his mistakes and that he was more than ready to conquer his heart again. He wanted to prove to Louis that his feelings were never altered and that he shouldn't have left him all alone. Harry wasn't joking when he said that Louis was the love of his life; he simply couldn't bear the thought of a life without him. It was time to pull himself together and accept the consequences of his mistakes. He was going to move heaven and earth to have Louis look at him with love and tenderness. If after the lockdown, Harry hadn't succeeded… Well, he would sign the divorce papers.

***

If Harry knew something about Louis, it's that he was a person who really loved food. So he decided that to win his heart again, he had to start winning his stomach. He stood in front of the fridge and got out all the items he needed. He was quite happy to have found everything he needed to cook Louis his favorite dish. He hadn't set foot outside since the lockdown was announced and preferred to do the groceries online and get them delivered. But it happened sometimes that the food he had ordered was out of stock before it could be delivered.

After putting the sweet potatoes in the oven, he chopped the garlic and the onion and put them in a large pan with the ground beef. He seasoned it with a packet of taco seasoning and a cup of salsa sauce. While it cooked, he set the table and wondered if lighting candles would be too much. He shook his head. Of course it would be too much. It was just the first step. He didn't want to scare Louis. But he uncorked a bottle of Julienas, Louis' favorite red wine.

Once everything was set up, Harry took a deep breath and went upstairs. He knocked on Louis' door and, when no answer came, his heart started to beat faster.

"Lou?"

"Come in."

Harry sighed in relief and pushed the door open. Louis was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his hair falling over his eyes. He was surrounded by sheets of paper and he looked focused. Harry leaned against the door frame. Louis didn't seem to mind his presence, but at the same time, he didn't say a word either.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Harry asked, biting his nail.

"I'm not really hungry, Harry, and I still have a lot of work to do."

"It's almost 8. You've been working all day long and you haven't had a proper meal for a week. Come on. I cooked your favorite dish."

Louis finally lifted his head. The circles under his eyes were darker and his beard thicker. Harry had never seen him with such a beard. He wondered if it was soft or scratchy. He wouldn't mind his skin being raw after Louis had kissed him. His blue eyes were shining and he tried to bite back a smile. He looked like a child whose birthday presents were right in front of him.

"Taco stuffed sweet potatoes?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

When Louis finally made his way to the dining table, his phone in his hand, Harry felt a bit like they were on their first date. He served the wine as Louis sat down, looking everywhere but directly at him. They started eating in silence and Louis moaned a little when he took the first bite, making Harry chuckle.

"Fuck, H, that's delicious," he said with his mouth full.

"Glad you like it. What have you been up to, all locked in your room for a week?"

Louis rolled his eyes and took a sip of his wine. His phone buzzed where it was placed on the table and Louis glanced at it. He looked like he was trying to suppress a smile and Harry swallowed his bite of sweet potato hard. Louis turned off his phone and focused on his plate.

"A lot of work," he sighed. "My boss thinks that working from home allows me to have more than 24 hours in a day. She is… well, quite worried about the future of the company. I think some people will be fired."

He looked worried himself, and Harry wanted to rub his thumb on the creased line between his brows.

"Are you becoming a workaholic?" he asked, to cheer the atmosphere up.

"No, never," Louis giggled, helping himself to more wine. "There's been also… Well…"

"What? What is it?" Harry questioned with curious eyes.

Louis put his fork against the side of his plate and for the first time, he looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"Well, I've been writing a lot lately," he explained, blushing a little. "There were too many ideas in my head and I didn't know what to do, so I just… write."

It was quite amazing for Harry to see Louis being so confident and open with him. At least, even if they weren't lovers anymore, they were still friends. The conversation was simple and easy between them, like everything that had ever happened to them. It had started with a simple encounter in the high school's library. They had spent too many hours talking and laughing about everything and nothing, instead of studying for their exams. From strangers, they had become friends, then best friends, then lovers. Everything had always been so easy between them; they had never wondered if they were wrong, because everything felt right. And Harry had always been in love with him, since the very beginning. Louis was charming, loud and outgoing, but deep inside, he had a shy and soft soul. Harry had fallen in love with his kindness, his sensitivity, his uncertainty. And he loved being by his side, supporting him, proving to him he was amazing. After an admirable course in community management, Louis had joined an import-export company as a digital project manager. Louis loved what was at stake and challenges, but Harry knew, and Louis knew too, that his true passion was writing. But he had never been confident enough to launch himself into it.

"That's amazing, Lou," Harry said at last, smiling wide. "You should be proud of yourself."

Louis snorted, but his cheeks were crimson red.

"Enough talking about me," he said, pushing aside his empty plate. "What about you? What did you do today? I heard you playing guitar and humming some tunes."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, stretching his legs under the table. If his foot landed against Louis' ankles, it was certainly not his fault. "I have to compose an album for new clients. And Niall called me too."

That seemed to surprise Louis. He leaned his forearms on the wooden table.

"What did he say?" he inquired, looking slightly in a hurry.

"Nothing, just banalities. He asked me about work."

"Nothing else?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I just…"

"He asked me about you and I, if you really want to know."

Louis' shoulders sloped down and he looked away. He finished his glass of wine and stood up, taking his plate and glass in the kitchen.

"Alright," he sighed. "I shouldn't have asked. What did he say then?"

"He lectured me like I was a child, explaining to me why I was such a shitty husband and the many reasons why you wanted to divorce," Harry said, following him to the kitchen.

Louis was behind the sink, washing the dishes. To Harry's surprise, he giggled. The sound was light and cheerful and it made Harry's heart ache.

"Niall's never been good with words," he said, putting too much washing-up liquid on the sponge. How many times had Harry patiently explained to him that a small amount was enough? He couldn't count.

"Well, he was this time."

"He shouldn't have blamed you. You're not the only one to blame."

"Of course he should have. I've not been the careful and loving husband I had promised you I'd be. And I'm sorry, honey."

Harry could hear Louis roll his eyes until they hit the back of his head. Louis turned around and leaned against the sink, drying his hands on a towel. There were only a few centimeters between them and it would have been easy to step into Louis' personal space and kiss him.

" Honey won't get you anywhere, Styles," Louis chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry loved this side of Louis, when he was sarcastic and insolent. It was often good when he acted this way. Harry mimicked his position on the opposite counter.

"I'm still a Tomlinson, remember?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Louis tried really hard to suppress his smile and quickly found his composure.

"Enjoy it while you can, it won't last forever."

And with that, he was off to the dining room. Harry quickly followed him.

"Oh come on, Louis," he whined. "We really need to talk about it."

"I know, H," Louis sighed, rubbing his face. "It's just not the right time. The virus, the lockdown, us… It's just too much. I promise you we'll talk. I just need time."

Harry nodded. Louis smiled a little, grabbed his phone and went upstairs. When he was in the middle of the stairs, he turned back.

"Thanks for dinner," he half-whispered. "It was delicious, as always. And thanks also, for the last time. The panic attack."

He didn't wait for Harry's anwer and disappeared to his bedroom. Harry stayed there, arms by his side, trying to understand the whole evening. Finally, he smiled. He hoped that his plan would keep on getting on so well.  

***

The rain was pouring hard and it seemed that time had slowed down the last few days. Harry sighed and sat on the couch, grabbing his purple nail varnish. He was starting to get really annoyed by the weather and the lockdown. He spent his days working on his songs and composing his music, but everyday, he waited for dinner to arrive. He would cook for Louis and then they would spend the evening together, eating in front of the TV, sharing small chatter from time to time. It felt like it was getting easier to be around Louis, as he would leave his room more often. Yet, Harry didn't know what to do now to make him talk about them. He didn't want to pressure him, but he was also getting impatient. Impatient and slightly anxious. Because sometimes he felt like Louis had moved on. He often heard him on the phone in his room, giggling and talking in a soft voice, and it made Harry tense immediately.

He startled when he heard a door slam shut and heavy footsteps on the stairs. Louis walked through the living room, not even sparing a glance at Harry, his phone stuck between his ear and his shoulder. Harry watched him walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and mutter yeah, yeah, I know, I can't wait, it's getting so long, yeah, hopefully we can meet after the lockdown . He didn't mean to be intrusive, but fuck, he really wanted to know who the fuck Louis was talking to. He was so lost in his thoughts that he dropped the varnish bottle, the sticky substance dripping on his leg.

"Fuck," he muttered, quickly grabbing a paper towel to wipe it. Thankfully he was wearing old sweatpants, because he had totally ruined them.

"Thought you were good with your hands," Louis chuckled, flopping on the couch next to him.

"I was distracted," Harry mumbled. "You look like you’re in a really good mood today."

"Well, I am," Louis answered, typing on his phone.

"Why's that?" Harry asked, starting to paint his nails. He couldn't look at Louis, fearing his expression would betray him.

"The server at the office is broken. Which means I can't access my files. So it's Thursday afternoon, I won't be able to work tomorrow, so it’s officially the weekend for me!"

"Are you not a little bit too happy about a weekend during a lockdown?"

"I don't know, there are so many possibilities! I think I'm gonna write a bit and shave my beard and-"

"Do a digital detox, maybe?"

Louis chuckled and put his phone on the coffee table. He brought his legs under his bum and grabbed the remote. He turned the TV on, switched on Netflix and put an episode of The World's Most Extraordinary Homes on. The sound filled the room and covered the loud hammering of the rain on the windows.

"I don't need one," he finally replied. "I'm not an addict. I'm simply living with my time."

Harry rolled his eyes. Louis was as stubborn as a mule and proud as a peacock, but also a true smooth-talker. Harry blew on his nails to make them dry quicker and watched the result. The purple varnish was bright and sparkly just like he loved it. He could feel Louis looking at him from the corner of his eye.

"What? Do you want me to do yours?" he teased, wiggling the bottle of varnish.

Louis looked at him with a blank expression, looking almost as if was hesitating, and suddenly threw his hands on Harry's lap.

"Yeah, it could be fun."

Harry swallowed hard. Louis' fingers looked too small and thin pressed to his thigh and fuck, why was he still wearing his wedding ring? Harry took Louis' hand in his; his palm was hot and damp. He opened the varnish and took the brush out. He started to paint Louis' nails, being careful not to drip on the sides. Louis' breathing was soft and the murmur of the TV was soothing. There was something so domestic in the air, being here with Louis, sat on the couch on a rainy Thursday afternoon. It could be easy to forget that they were locked here and that outside, a virus was changing humanity forever.

"Hey, H", Louis whispered, wiggling on the couch.

The movement caused the brush to run under his thumbnail and Harry tsked. Louis could never stay still.

"What?" he sighed, slightly annoyed.

"The divorce papers. I'm sorry."

Harry was a bit taken aback by his confession. He looked up and Louis was already looking at him, biting his lip, his blue eyes looking worried. Harry closed the varnish bottle and Louis wriggled his hands like a madman.

"You just look… so detached sometimes," Harry answered, his voice unsure. "It looks like it doesn't matter to you. We've been together for ten years, we've been married for almost five years. I'm not like you, Louis, I can't forget everything in the blink of an eye."

"No, Harry, no, it's not about forgetting," Louis objected. "God… I don't wanna forget either. And unlike what you think, it matters to me. You matter to me."

"You cannot say this kind of thing, Louis. You cannot say that when you want a divorce."

"I know it's… confusing and sad and I don't know what to tell you."

Outside, the night was starting to fall and the rain was still pouring. Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back on the headrest. When Louis was finally willing to talk, Harry felt like he wanted to disappear. He was scared and it showed. He hid his shaking hands between his thighs.

"Why are we here now?" he asked, sounding helpless.

"I think… We've both made mistakes. We surely missed something."

"Why have you never told me this? We could've…"

"Don't take offense, H, but it's always so hard to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you so many times… but it was never the right moment. You were too tired, too horny, too… And then, when you would come back from LA, I would push the problems aside, because I just wanted to enjoy my time with you. But the more the months passed, the more I was telling myself that it was useless. So one morning, I woke up and finally realized that you weren't involved in our relationship anymore. And I was tired of going through the same arguments again and again. You don't understand how hard it was to go to bed alone every night."

It was nice to see Louis open up this way, even if his words were heavy and painful and made Harry's heart ache. He turned his head to the side and Louis was already looking at him. He had a small smile on his lips, like he was trying to soothe Harry's pain. But Harry didn't mind getting hurt. He deserved it.

"I'm so sorry, Lou," he said at last. "I've become aware of what I've done to you. I shouldn't have neglected you. I was so stupid to not have realized it sooner."

"What is done is done, H. We cannot change the past," Louis decided.

He stood up and stretched his arms above his head. His forest green jumper rose above his navel and Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the soft golden skin. Louis grabbed his phone and his packet of cigarettes on the coffee table and walked to the glass door.

"But what about the future, Lou?"

Louis turned around and smirked. Harry felt really naive, but he could have lost himself in the intensity of his blue eyes. Louis looked tired, but the corner of his eyes were wrinkled. Harry could see the insolence and rolled his eyes before Louis even opened his mouth.

"What about takeaway? I'd love sushi."

Then he disappeared in the garden to have a smoke, leaving Harry slightly disappointed, although not really surprised, but most importantly madly in love with him. He sighed, smiling to himself, and grabbed his phone to order Louis his favorite sushi.

***

Harry couldn't remember the last time he had enough free time to take care of his skin. He had turned the bathroom into a real sauna. He stepped out of the shower, his skin as red as a lobster. He wrapped himself in a warm towel and tried to decipher his reflection in the fogged up mirror. He had scrubbed every inch of his body with black soap and a kessa glove and now felt like a new man; his skin was so soft and smelled of eucalyptus. He grabbed his pot of rhassoul clay and massaged it on his face. It was good to let the stress and the tension of the lockdown, too many people dying of an unknown virus and missing his family, leave his body. But what really made his shoulders tense up and his jaw clench was the many dirty thoughts that crossed his mind lately. Every morning, he would come across Louis going downstairs with his bed hair and only in his pajamas bottoms. Every evening, he would step upon Louis coming out of the bathroom with his wet hair pulled back on his head and his bathrobe wrapped loosely around his small body. And every night, he would find Louis standing at the door glass, smoking a cigarette in a t-shirt too big for him and tight briefs squeezing his… No need to say what they squeezed. Louis was both arousing and cute and Harry wanted nothing more than to cuddle him and ravage him at the same time.

A loud bang and a curse made him stop his hand from sneaking under his towel to squeeze his half-hard cock and he sighed. He quickly dried himself and put his red velvet pajamas on. He walked to the kitchen, wondering why the fuck Louis was slamming the cupboards.

Louis shouted so loud that Harry jumped back, knocking his back against the counter. He shrieked in pain. Louis didn't even look apologetic, bringing his hand to his chest.

"Why the fuck are you shouting like that?" Harry hissed, wincing at the sharp pain in his back.

"You scared me! What the fuck have you got on your face?" Louis asked, sounding a bit too confused.

"It's a fucking clay mask! It's not the first time you see me like this, fuck!"

Harry had never been vulgar, but he almost broke his spine on the counter, so he allowed himself to curse a little. Louis frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but a giggle escaped his lips. And fuck, Louis shouldn't be allowed to have a laugh so clear and soft, a laugh that reminded Harry of the many good memories they had together. Like that time when they popped a tire in the snow before arriving at the chalet in La Clusaz. Or when Harry had made his speech at Jay's wedding with his fly open. Or that one time Louis got a seawood stuck in his swimming trunks. The memories wrapped around him like a hug and made him feel safe. Safe and at home.

"What's so funny anyway?" he asked, rubbing the painful spot on his back.

"I've forgotten your frog-that-just-got-out-of-the-mud face, is all," Louis chuckled, shrugging.

"Hey, that's mean," Harry whined, certainly looking like an angry frog now.

"You know better than to take offense, baby."

It came out so easily and naturally that Harry could have missed it, but the way Louis froze and blushed made Harry realize that it shouldn't feel so easy and natural.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't…"

"Why the fuck were you slamming the cupboards?" Harry cut him off, trying to relieve the heavy air between them.

It worked, as Louis seemed to breathe out, running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were still adorably red though.

"Hum, well, I was looking for the brown rice, but couldn't find it anywhere," Louis explained, looking helplessly around him. "I wanted to cook a jambalaya."

"You wanted to cook?" Harry asked. The confusion on his face made Louis roll his eyes.

"Yeah, you've been cooking every evening for us, so I thought it'd be nice if I cooked a bit too. I know it won't be as good as…"

"Hey. That's really nice of you. Thank you."

Louis pinched his lips and nodded, while Harry's heart melted into a puddle. He walked to the fridge and opened it, letting the cool air soothe his warm cheeks.

"So, no more brown rice then," he hummed. "We need to do the groceries. As for tonight, we can make ham and cheese toasties, if you want."

"Sounds alright."

Harry got all the items out while Louis sat on the counter, because, well, he had never been fond of cooking anyway. Once the toasties were in the pan, Harry went to the bathroom to rinse his mask off. He felt like he had a baby face.

He found Louis in the living room, crouched down in front of the TV. He had started a fire in the fireplace and the flames casted shadows on the light brown walls. He had brought their plates on the coffee table, along with a glass of white wine and a big bowl of popcorn.

"What are we celebrating?" Harry asked, sitting on the couch.

"Nothing. Just thought we could have a movie night."

It was not even a question. And Harry didn't mind because it really felt like a date night. But then he leaned in to grab his glass of wine and Louis' phone buzzed. Augustin , read the phone, along with call me back please. Harry sat back on the couch with a hard knot in his throat. Hopefully the wine would help dissolve it. Louis put the DVD on and Harry's eyes widened when he looked at the screen.

" Paranormal Activity ?" he chuckled. "Really?"

"What? It's a really good movie," Louis shrugged, taking a bite of his toastie.

"You realize it's a horror movie, right?"

"Of course I do, I'm not stupid! Eat, it's gonna get cold."

It was easy for Harry to drop the subject. He couldn't help but grin to himself. If there was something that he had learned over the last ten years, it was that watching a scary movie meant having a scared Louis by his side. And Louis could get really cuddly when he was scared. Harry would not complain this time.

***

Two hours later, Harry was lying in bed with his belly full of wine and popcorn, his ears ringing with shouts of terror and his arm scratched raw by Louis' sharp nails. The night had not really been what Harry had expected, as Louis hadn't cuddled up to him at all, but hid under a fluffy blanket, his hands from time to time searching for something to clench at –that something being Harry's forearm. So now Harry was quite disappointed and frustrated and he didn't know what to do. He wasn't tired, and sleep was the last thing he craved. Sighing, he turned on his back and looked up at the ceiling. He wondered what would happen when the lockdown would be lifted. He would surely have to go back to LA. The simple thought made him feel anxious and he'd rather not think about it.

He started when his phone buzzed under the duvet. He fumbled to grab it and frowned when he saw the name on the screen. He picked up.

"What are…"

"Listen, I know it's weird," Louis whispered through the phone. "But there's a strange noise in the room and I don't know what it is and…"

"It was a really bad idea to watch Paranormal Activity , wasn't it?" Harry cut him off, smiling wide.

"It has nothing to do with it," Louis argued, but he sounded quite anxious.

"Alright, so I can go back to sleep now, right?"

There was a moment of silence and Harry kicked the duvet off his legs, already knowing what was to come.

"Can you come and check the room, please?"

Louis' voice was almost pleading. Harry chuckled and walked into the corridor, straight to their bedroom. He found Louis sitting on the bed, wrapped in his blanket, biting his nails. Harry closed the door behind him and they both fell silent. Harry couldn't hear anything but his own breathing, and Louis was looking at him with wide eyes.

"I swear there's something," he whispered.

"Do you want me to check under the bed for monsters?"

He didn't wait for Louis' answer before crouching down and having a look at the space under the bed. Then he looked behind the door, in the wardrobe, above the closet.

"I hear nothing, Lou," he finally said, looking helplessly around him.

"I'm not crazy," Louis whined, clutching the blanket to his chest.

"I'm not saying you are, I just…"

A loud bang cut him off and they both froze. Harry didn't believe in ghosts and monsters, but the way Louis looked so frightened made his heart ache. But Harry already knew what the noise was. He walked to the window, opened it and locked the shutter that was slamming against the wall because of the wind.

"The shutter," Harry explained. "You never close it correctly."

The look of disbelief on Louis' face was priceless. He blushed hard and shook his head, not believing what a fool he had been. Harry couldn't help but laugh softly. It wasn't the first time they were woken up in the middle of the night because the shutter wasn't closed. Louis didn't know how to lock a shutter, but kept on slamming the cupboards every time he could. Harry would never understand why.

"I'm sorry," Louis sighed. "I won't bother you again."

"It's alright. Good night, Lou."

Harry went back to his bedroom and slipped under his duvet, shivering. He turned off the light and snuggled further under the duvet. It didn't take long before he heard little tap tap tap noises in the corridor and he smiled to himself. The door opened and closed, the little tap tap tap came closer to the bed, the duvet was lifted and a cold draft hit Harry's bare arms. Louis laid on the side of the mattress, leaving a maximum of space between them.

"Please, don't say a thing."

"I thought you wouldn't bother me again," Harry giggled, turning on his back.

He pulled the duvet over his chin. Louis moved next to him.

"I told you not to say a thing," Louis whined, rolling on his side. "Why are you always so talkative?"

"You love when I tease you."

Louis didn't say anything, and Harry took his lack of answer for a yes . He wondered for a moment if sleeping with Louis was the beginning of physical reconciliation. And it looked like it, because he could feel Louis' legs sliding closer to his. Harry suddenly turned on his side to face him.

"Louis, don't you dare," he warned, hoping his voice was menacing.

Louis' cold feet were only a few centimeters from his shins. It was out of the question that Louis would freeze him to death with his bloody cold toes.

"But I'm cold," Louis wailed.

He brought his knees up to his chest and his ankle brushed against Harry's wrist. He was too close now. In the darkness, Harry could decipher his hair falling over his eyes. He really wanted to brush it behind his ear.

"Can't you stop whining?" he said, slipping his arm under his pillow. "You cannot put your cold feet on your ex-husband’s legs. It's against the law."

Louis groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

"We're not divorced yet," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

And because they had been together for ten years, Harry could hear the amusement in his tone. Louis didn't say a thing for a moment, a moment so long that Harry thought he had fallen asleep. He was startled when Louis spoke again.

"I can't believe we've been in this situation for five weeks," he whispered. "It's insane."

Harry could feel the insecurity and the sadness coming from Louis. He knew that it had been a hard time for Louis since the beginning of the lockdown, even if he would never admit it. Yet Harry had thought that he had relaxed a bit since work was less overwhelming and he was writing a lot lately. He had been stupid to think Louis was feeling good.

"I know, honey," he whispered back. "There's so many things we'll have to do when we can go out."

"You know what I'm dreaming of?" Louis suddenly exclaimed, lifting his head from the pillow. "To have dinner in the little restaurant in Maida Vale, you know? What's its name?"

"The Waterway," Harry nodded.

"Yeah, The Waterway! The mezze platter is so good. And the Dark and Stormy! I could drink that all day long."

Harry giggled at his enthusiasm. He bit his lip, remembering the date nights they had at The Waterway. He couldn't count the many times they had snogged like teenagers on the canal because Louis had drunk too many of these Dark and Stormy. These were the good times.

"I miss the Sunday brunches with the guys," Harry admitted, clutching the blanket to his chest. "And travelling too."

"Do you miss LA?"

"No."

To his surprise, he realized that there wasn't any hesitation in his voice. Fuck, he couldn't even imagine his life in California now. Louis sighed and rolled on his back.

"I miss my family so much," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"They must miss you too. Have you facetimed them recently?"

"Yeah. They always ask about you. I always have to say you're in the shower or doing the groceries."

"You don't have to. I could see them on the phone, you know. I miss them too. Maybe you should just be honest with them."

Harry's tone sounded a bit too harsh suddenly, even to his own ears. But Louis didn't seem to notice it. At least he kept quiet. Harry turned his head to look at him. His eyes were half closed and his breathing even. Harry didn't want him to fall asleep, not now. He had too many thoughts in his head and too many questions on the tip of his tongue. He grabbed his wrist to catch his attention.

"Lou?"

"Hum?"

"Have you met someone? Is that why you want a divorce? I want you to tell me the truth."

Louis' eyes snapped open and he turned his head so fast he could have broken his neck.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" he asked, sounding really confused.

"Who's Augustin?"

Harry's heart was beating fast in his chest and his hand felt damp on Louis'. He wanted to push Louis off the bed when he chuckled.

"No, I've not met someone. You're wrong."

"Then who is he?" Harry tried, feeling suddenly really jealous.

"It has nothing to do with you, H. And there's nothing to worry about."

"You should tell me, then."

"Come on, Harry. It's late. Sleep now."

His thumb brushed over the top of Harry's hand, before he turned on his side. Harry sighed and turned his back to Louis. His mind was split between two dynamics. On one hand, he couldn't deny the happiness sleeping with Louis brought him. But on the other hand, he still didn't know who the fuck this Augustin was.

***

They fell into a domestic routine that none of them wanted to talk about. It felt heavy in the atmosphere that they truly were acting like a married couple. Which they still were, but still. It was in the little things of everyday life: the cup of coffee Louis made for Harry every morning, how Harry washed the dirty laundry on Wednesday afternoon, their meetings every night for dinner. They spent more and more time together and while Harry should be happy, he was starting to get worried. What the actual fuck was their relationship now? He couldn't put a name on it. Husbands was too heavy; even if Louis climbed in his bed most nights now, there wasn't an ounce of physical reconciliation between them. Friends was too weak; the notion of intimacy became more and more absent. That's what Harry thought, as he was standing in front of the mirror, plucking his eyebrows, while Louis was in the shower. In the shower . Naked . Fuck. Of course, the dark brick wall didn't allow him to have a look at his gorgeous future-ex-husband-but-still-friends, but still. Louis was showering, while Harry was plucking his eyebrows. It felt so weird and natural at the same time.

Content with his eyebrows, Harry put the tweezers back in the drawer. He took his hairbrush and combed it through his hair. It was getting longer now, the strands curling at the base of his nape. Louis got out of the shower, thankfully wrapped in a big towel. He was humming a tune that Harry recognized immediately.

"How do you even know the rhythm?" he asked, plunging his hand in the coconut oil to use on his hair.

He moved to the side to let Louis be in front of the sink, trying not to pay too much attention to his scrubbed skin that smelled like heaven. Louis rolled his eyes, grabbing his toothbrush.

"You've been singing it all day long," he sighed, mouth full of toothpaste. "Of course I know the rhythm."

Harry smiled to himself. He was working hard on the new album and he was quite proud of the new songs he had written so far. The melody had been in his head for days and nights now, never leaving him alone.

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

He was happy that Louis also had it in his head, since he was responsible for Harry's melancholic taste for his new songs.

Harry was now ready to go to bed, but he didn't want to. Instead, he rummaged around the drawers, acting like he was looking for something he couldn't find.

"I was thinking about something," Louis said, rinsing his mouth. "We should repaint the living room. Maybe an olive green. Or a sage green. I like pistachio green too. It could be nice."

"You sound like a posh interior designer."

Louis turned around. He shot Harry a death glare, making him giggle.

"You can never be serious, can you?" Louis snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

His wet chest. His toned wet chest. His golden toned wet chest. It was hard to keep looking him in the eyes.

"Well, I think it's a good idea," Harry shrugged. "It would keep us busy for a few days and… Oh, you've got toothpaste here."

Without thinking twice, he pressed his thumb to the corner of Louis' mouth. He was already mortified and didn't have time to apologize, before Louis' tongue stuck out and he licked the pulp of his finger.

They both froze and time seemed to have stopped. Louis was watching him with wide eyes and Harry couldn't even remove his hand from Louis' face. A drop of water fell from Louis' hair to his forehead and it snapped him out of his reverie. He stepped back, knocking his back on the sink.

"Fuck, H, I'm sorry," he said, blushing.

"What the fuck was that?" Harry chuckled, but he sounded too serious, even to his own ears.

"A stupid reflex," Louis winced.

"A stupid reflex?"

"Yeah. From when we… Don't make me spill it out."

Harry surely should have dropped the subject, bid Louis goodnight and locked himself in his room to forget about it and maybe have a little wank. Maybe. But now, it seemed like he couldn't stop himself. He stepped forward, caging Louis against the sink. Louis had to grab his arm not to lose his balance. Slowly, Harry brought his hand up to Louis' face and since Louis didn't make a move to stop him, he ran his thumb over his lower lip. Louis fluttered his eyes shut for a second before opening them again. The dark had overtaken his blue iris.

"I could kick you in the balls for that," he whispered, clutching at Harry's arm.

"You could," Harry agreed. "But you won't."

"Don't be too insolent. You're playing a dangerous game."

"What else can we do during lockdown? Playing seems nice to me."

"You're an absolute wanker."

That's all Louis said before surging forward, knocking his forehead against Harry's, in the desperate urge to kiss him. Lips found lips quickly and Louis opened his mouth immediately, letting Harry's tongue enter inside. He tasted a strong taste of mint and it was better than Harry could ever imagine. Fuck. He felt alive. There was nothing more bracing than having Louis in his arms, kissing him with passion. It had been too long. He realized how much he had craved it when Louis stepped back to catch his breath. Harry didn't waste time and kissed his neck. He bit down on the pulse point and Louis moaned, throwing his head back. Fuck, Harry had missed that too, the way Louis was so loud in bed.

Louis slipped his hands under Harry's t-shirt, his short nails digging into his skin. Harry only stepped back to take it off and with one flick of his wrist, he tugged at the towel wrapped around Louis' waist. It fell to the floor with a mushy noise, but it didn't really matter, because Louis reached for Harry immediately, crushing their bodies together. There were too many teeth in their kisses, but neither seemed to mind. There was an urgency to their movements; like it was the end of the world and it would be their last time together. And it felt like it. Outside, a virus was killing people and Harry couldn't forget that Louis wanted a divorce. It felt like their last time. Maybe it was. Incomprehensible and fuzzy words were coming out of Louis' mouth every time Harry stepped back to catch his breath and their hips rubbed together, giving enough friction to relieve their already hard cocks.

"Ha… Harry.. I want you," Louis panted, tugging at Harry's sweatpants.

"You sure? You really wanna do this here?" Harry asked, even if the question sounded ridiculous.

It might be, because Louis rolled his eyes and chuckled, pushing Harry's sweatpants and his boxers down.

"Right," Harry said with a shaking voice, cold air slapping his cock. "We need a condom."

"Wait, what? What nonsense are you talking about?" Louis hissed, shooting him a death glare.

"No! It's not what I meant! I've never… With someone else, but you could…"

"Me neither, for fuck's sake! Hurry up before I change my mind."

Louis turned around, leaning on the sink. He hissed when the cold ceramic touched his skin. He curved his back and wiggled his bum right under Harry's eyes. His heart beat faster at the sight and he grabbed the coconut oil.

"Let me prep you," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss between Louis' shoulder blades.

He could feel the shivers on his skin when he ran a finger over his hole.

"I'm ready," Louis whined, pushing his hips back. "I've… This morning…"

"What? You fingered yourself this morning?" Harry asked, a bit astonished.

Louis didn't answer but through the mirror, Harry saw his cheeks go crimson. He took a deep breath in and leaned his forehead against Louis' shoulder, trying not to come right away. The thought of Louis fucking himself with his fingers was more arousing than he would like to admit. He circled two fingers over Louis' rim, making him whimper.

"I can't believe it," he said in a soft voice, pushing his two fingers in. They went easily, Louis already stretched out from his morning activities. "You really crave a cock inside you, don't you? My cock."

The dirty talk was coming easily, naturally, as it was one of Louis' turn ons. Louis was becoming a whining mess, his whole body hovered against the sink. He was standing on his tiptoes, his back arched almost painfully. Harry watched, amazed, his fingers disappearing in his tight hole, his movements sharp and short. He knew he hit the sweet spot when Louis' knees buckled up and his thighs shook. His loud moan sent a rush of desire down Harry's spine.

"Fuck, H, I'm good, please, I need you," he panted, his knuckles turning white where he clutched at the sink.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He took his fingers out, poured a great amount of coconut oil onto his cock and pressed the tip against Louis' rim.

"Ready?" he whispered against Louis' ear.

Louis nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as Harry pushed inside slowly until his navel hit his ass. Harry grabbed him by the hips, probably leaving red bruises on the soft skin. He pressed a kiss under Louis' ear.

"I love when you're clean shaved," he whispered, kissing his jaw.

He started to thrust in and out, slow but powerful thrusts, and Louis moaned, turning his head to the side. His blue eyes were dark and pleading and Harry kissed him so softly it made a strange contrast with his hard thrusts.

Harry didn't think about everything anymore. The virus, the lockdown, the divorce… Everything flew away. All that mattered was Louis and his little body, soft fingers against hot skin, the sound of their skin slapping against one another, the moans and whispers escaping his red and raw lips, the tight heat around his cock, Louis' fists clenched around the sink.

It was too much already. Harry wrapped his hand around Louis' throat, applied slight pressure and Louis threw his head back on his shoulder.

"For fuck's sake, Harry, fuck me harder!" he said, his voice shaking and broken.

Harry obliged, gripping his hips and thrusting into him with quick, sharp thrusts. His legs started to shake and he knew the feeling too well.

"I'm gonna come," he panted, his pace quickening.

He moaned when Louis clenched around his cock and Louis turned his head to bite his lip. One last thrust and Harry came, Louis' name tasting like honey on the tip of his tongue. He quickly pulled out and gripped Louis by the hips, turning him around. He fell on his knees in front of him and Louis instinctively ran his fingers through his hair. Harry's fingers brushed against his soft stomach, before gripping the base of his cock. He wasted no time wrapping his lips around it, sucking slightly. Louis sighed in pleasure and tightened his grip on Harry's head, forcing his head on him. Louis was squirming with desire, his thighs shaking as he tried to keep straight. Harry hollowed his cheeks and went up and down the shaft, almost gagging on it with the urge of satisfying his lover. His hand made his way up Louis' thigh, brushing against his bum. Without warning, he pushed two fingers in, gripping Louis' hip with his free hand. Louis let out a chocked moan, spreading his thighs open, nails scratching at Harry's scalp. The simple feeling of his fingers deep in the hot and sticky mess of Louis' hole had his cock harden again. Louis' thighs were shaking and he was breathing heavily. Harry would have smiled if he hadn't had his mouth full of cock. He did what he knew would tear Louis apart. He sucked harder, the tip of Louis' cock hitting the back of his throat, and curved his fingers. He felt Louis' come on his tongue before he heard his broken moan, his fingers grasping almost painfully at his hair. Harry sucked him through his orgasm, until Louis hissed, too sensitive.

Harry stood up, wondering what would happen now that he had fucked his future ex-husband. He felt very naked and very vulnerable. Louis was still leaning against the sink, catching his breath. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his eyes were dazed, his cheeks flushed. He had never looked so beautiful. When their eyes met, Harry knew what he wanted to say. I love you . He stepped back.

"You wanna talk about it?" he half-whispered, running his hand through his hair.

Louis looked at him as if he were crazy.

"You just fucked me raw and that's all you have to say?" he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

He walked closer to Harry, pressing his hands on his shoulders, standing on his tiptoes. His breath tickled Harry's neck when he whispered. "What about round two?"

Harry didn't think twice before lifting Louis up, his legs circling his waist.

"In the shower," Louis commanded. "You stink."

Harry slammed him against the tiled wall of the shower and kissed him hard to make him pay for his sass. It was late and they should probably go to bed, but as the hot water washed over their intertwined bodies, Harry could think of nothing but Louis, Louis, Louis . But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help the question resurfacing every time Louis kissed his lips softly or whispered sweet nothings in his ear. It didn't feel like random sex between exes. It was not the way of exploding the tension between them. He didn't even know if there was any tension between them. What he knew was that it felt right . So what now?

***

Harry woke up the next morning with sore muscles and a wide smile plastered on his lips. He yawned and turned on his side, the space next to him cold and empty. Yet he was sure the night before wasn't a dream. He could still feel Louis' lips on his, his fingers pressed into his skin, his moans filling his ears. Louis surely was up already, cooking breakfast or having work to do. No need to panic. Yawning again, Harry kicked the duvet off his legs and got up, grabbing his sweatpants at the end of the bed to put them on, along with a thin jumper. He made his way downstairs, wincing at the burning feeling in his thighs. He was too old to spend a sleepless night rythmed by too many orgasms. He was relieved when he spotted Louis in the living room, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in his hand. Harry slumped down next to him, making him jump.

"Morning, honey," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss Louis' shoulder.

"Morning, H," Louis answered, not even looking at him. "It's good that you're up, we need to talk."

His voice didn't sound as light and cheerful as it had been the night before, and Harry tensed immediately. There was something heavy in the air and he didn't like the feeling. Just as he was about to ask what the fuck was wrong, he noticed the sheets of paper in Louis' lap. He froze.

"You cannot be serious," he whispered.

Louis looked at him with a puzzled look on his face and suddenly it felt like too much. The lockdown, the divorce, Louis and their passionate lovemaking… Harry was crushed by the weight of it all and he couldn't stand it anymore. He got up  and walked straight to the hall. His cheeks were burning and his ears were buzzing. His breathing was hard and he clenched his jaw, focusing on not throwing up right here. He put his sneakers on and fumbled around to find his wallet and his keys. He heard Louis' footsteps behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked, disbelief ringing in his voice.

"I'm leaving," Harry answered, his tone implying that Louis was really stupid.

"But you can't…"

"That's what you’ve always wanted, right? You should be happy then." He finally found his keys and grabbed them, walking to the door. But Louis was quick and blocked the way with his arm.

"You'll get fined," Louis noted.

Harry really wanted to slap him in the face because Louis didn't look like he understood a single thing of what was happening right now.

"I know and I don't fucking care."

His voice was angry but also trembling. Louis tried to grab his wrist but he stepped back.

"Don't," he warned. "Now get out of the way."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Louis hissed, suddenly on the defensive. "I thought that…"

"Are you deaf or what? Get the fuck out of the way!"

He shouted louder than he intended, covering his mouth with his hand. The words rang between them. It hurt. It hurt so much. And it showed on Louis' face, because his frown dropped and he walked to the side. Harry had a hard knot in his throat and his eyes were stinging with unwanted tears. He bit his lip and shook his head. He turned his back to Louis and put his hand on the doorknob, when Louis spoke up again.

"Never thought you could be so mean, Harry."

And he really, really , shouldn't have said that. Harry turned around quickly, ears flushing and a bubble of anger building up in the pit of his stomach. He might have looked threatening because Louis stepped back.

"I'm mean?" Harry snarled, clenching his fists. "I'm mean? For God's sake, for the last few weeks I've been dealing with your bad temper and sarcasm only to ease the tension between us, and you think I'm mean?"

"I never said that…"

"What do you think? I've been lenient and patient, but you know what? You're a pain in the ass!"

"I know I can be…"

"No you don't! I care so much for you, but you cannot see it. I'm trying so hard for us, Louis. Maybe it's too late. It's too late, right?"

Louis didn't answer, looking helpless and lost. He looked so small in his jean jacket, too big for him. Harry had never been so harsh with his words. He had always been the one to calm things down, to be as comprehensive and uncomplaining as possible. But he had had enough.

He put his hand on the doorknob, but Louis reached out for him.

"Please, H. Don't," Louis whined.

His pleading voice could have soothed his hammering heart, if his phone hadn't rung at the same moment. A wave of jealousy and anger washed over him and he stumbled backwards, feeling sick.

"Your Augustin can have you all for himself now," he spat. "I'm done."

He thought that Louis would have shouted or insulted him, or maybe sighed with relief, but he chuckled. The bastard fucking chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Harry scolded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Louis walked to him and grabbed his hand. When their eyes met, Harry felt weak in the knees. God, his eyes were so so so blue. Blue and kind and full of tenderness. Of love . What the actual fuck? Louis pressed a single kiss to the back of Harry's hand before letting it go.

"I know communication isn't our strongest point, but that definitely takes the cake," he sighed, a small smile playing at his lips. "Will you calm down, please? So I can explain everything to you."

He sounded honest and Harry simply nodded, following him to the living room. He sat on the couch while Louis was pacing about the room, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright," he said, coming to a stop. "You know how I struggle to express myself, but I'll try to be as clear as crystal." He started walking around the room again, looking antsy and agitated. Harry patiently waited, folding his hands in his lap. "Okay, so, a while ago, I was having a drink with Zayn and we talked about my writing and then he said that he knew someone from his office who could help me. You know, a friend of a friend of a friend that worked for a publishing house. I didn't really believe it, but I gave Zayn a copy of my book, who gave it to his colleague, who gave it to his friend. I truly forgot about it all, but then a few days before the lockdown, Augustin called me. So. Augustin is not my lover. He is my publisher."

Harry frowned, trying to comprehend everything Louis was saying. Writing, copy of my book, not my lover, my publisher . He suddenly gasped, hand flying to his mouth. Louis was standing in front of him, blushing a little, his hair a mess where he had run his hand through it.

"You wrote a book?" Harry repeated, looking at Louis with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Louis shrugged, swinging from one feet to the other.

"You wrote a book and it's getting published?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Come on, H, you were in LA and things were bad between us and I didn't want to expect too much from it."

"You're really talented and I'm so proud of you. Come here."

Louis bent his head to try and hide his crimson cheeks, but his embarrassment could be seen from the other side of London. He slowly made his way to the couch, standing right in front of Harry, their knees touching.

"I don't want to divorce a future successful writer," Harry whispered, feeling his heart beat fast in his chest.

Louis took a deep breath in, looking like he was struggling to shape his ideas in his head. He scratched his chin and finally focused on Harry.

"When you came back a few weeks ago and they announced the lockdown, I really wanted to throw you out, because I knew it was gonna be hard. It hurts to be here with you all day long," Louis explained, his voice a whisper. "It hurts to be so domestic with you, because it brings back good memories and sometimes I look at you and I can't stand your stupid face, because fuck, I've missed you so much, Harry. It hurts too much."

Harry reached out to grab Louis' hand and tugged at him. Louis fell in his lap, straddling his thighs. He pressed his hands on his shoulders and didn't object when Harry slid his hands on his waist.

"I don't wanna hurt you, baby," Harry whispered, fumbling with the hem of Louis' sweater. "I love you so much."

"Of course. I know it. And you're right. You tried really hard and I shouldn't have been so stubborn. I think I wouldn't have survived it without you, actually. I swear you've got a magical aura that takes the stress away from me. You're home. And the thing is, Harry, I've never stopped loving you. As Pink once said in one of her songs, we're not broken, just bent …"

" And we can learn to love again ," Harry finished, tightening his grip on Louis' waist.

They both chuckled and Louis reached out to grab the divorce papers. He tore them apart and threw the little pieces on the floor.  

"I know there's still a lot of things we need to talk about and figure out," Louis said, running his hand on Harry's neck. "But I don't want it to end. I love you."

The words were thrown in the air and even if Harry had heard Louis say them so many times, the weight of the declaration always felt heavy in his heart. It made his stomach twist. He wondered how it was possible to love someone this much. It was strong, intense and so pure. Harry tilted his head up and rubbed Louis' cheek, feeling hot in his palm. Louis melted into the touch, closing his eyes. And suddenly Harry couldn't wait anymore. He surged forward and kissed Louis' lips. Louis was heavy on him, he tasted like cinnamon and smelled like cigarettes and Harry was sure it was the best kiss they had ever shared. It was full of promises, hope and desire. Harry had a thirst for a future full of happiness with Louis. He would do anything to treasure this second chance; he knew it would be the last. And he also knew that they had a lot of things to sort out, but right now all that mattered was Louis' tongue against his own, the sweet moans escaping his lips and the way he circled his hips in his lap. Problems and arguments could wait. Love couldn't.

***

They talked about it. Of course they did. They talked about how Harry spent too much time away from home and how Louis should express himself more. They cried, because fuck, it hurt to be confronted to the mistakes that could have lead them to a divorce. But they laughed a lot too, when they were in bed, making new projects and heavy promises and remembering all the good memories they had shared over the years. Life was easy between them, the domestic routine becoming more and more domestic and, despite being locked together, time passed quickly. Maybe because they spent most of it naked, sweating, minds fuzzy with shaking orgasms. Their families and friends seemed quite happy to see them both on Facetime and it showed on their faces that they knew something had been wrong between them. Everything felt like heaven, until they announced the end of lockdown. Of course it was a relief, being able to go out, get some fresh air and wander around in the neighborhood. Seeing their loved ones also, even if it meant wearing a mask and staying one meter away from them. Louis' siblings were so happy to see their big brother that it filled Harry's heart with joy.

But Harry was quickly caught up with reality. So now he was standing in the doorway, a suitcase at his feet and a pouty Louis in his arms.

"Just two weeks," he said, kissing the top of Louis's head. "Then I'll be home. I just need to meet with a few clients."

"I know," Louis sighed, his voice muffled by Harry's t-shirt. "We've spent the last weeks together, I'm just gonna miss you, is all."

"You won't have time to miss me. You're gonna go back to the office, it's gonna keep you busy. And you have your appointment with Augustin, remember?"

Louis shrugged and stepped back. Harry really didn't like seeing him like this, but he truly didn't have any choice. His clients needed to see what projects he had to propose and he had postponed his visit to LA too many times now. He cupped Louis' face and kissed his mouth, feeling the warm and soft lips against his for the last time. Well. Not really the last time. But still. He was quite sad himself. He took his suitcase and opened the door. He stepped on the porch and turned around. Louis was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. Harry walked down the few steps and put his suitcase in his car. Then, he sat behind the wheel and opened his window.

"Louis," he called out. "You're ugly when you pout, baby!"

Louis looked indignant and flipped him off, making Harry giggle. He started the engine and waved at his husband. His husband .

"Take care, honey, I love you, don't forget it while I'm away!"

Louis rolled his eyes but a smile was playing at his lips. He even waved back, mouthing I love you too, dickhead .

"Two weeks and I'll be home," Harry reminded him.

And then he was off.

***

Harry didn't break his promise. He came back precisely thirteen days later in the middle of the night. This time, he didn't care if he woke Louis up. He went directly upstairs and slowly opened their bedroom door. To his surprise, Louis wasn't deeply asleep, but sitting on the bed, a book in his lap. He raised his head, a bit startled, but a smile appeared on his lips. He closed his book and put it on the bedside table.

"Hi, love," he whispered, making grabby hands. "Come here."

Harry obliged easily and stripped off his clothes before climbing on the bed, slipping under the duvet. In his haste, he knocked his forehead against Louis', and muffled his complaint with his lips on his. Louis' body was warm and soft in his arms and when he scratched his nails down Harry's back, Harry almost purred in pleasure. He could feel the pressure and stress of his flight leaving his body and he closed his eyes, sighing. Louis turned around to switch off the light and shuffled closer against Harry, leaning his head on his chest.

"How was LA?" he asked, tracing patterns on Harry's hip with his thumb.

"Quite good. The clients were impressed with the few songs I've written during lockdown. They're more excited than ever to work with me, which is quite pleasing."

"That's amazing, H. You are amazing."

Harry couldn't help but blush at the praise and tightened his grip around Louis' waist.

"When will you go back to LA then?" Louis went on, rubbing his cold feet against his calf.

Harry hissed and pinched his hip in reprimand.

"Dunno. In a month or something," he shrugged. He really didn't want to think about it right now.

"Would you… Would you mind if I came with you?"

Louis' voice sounded unsure in the darkness, and Harry wished he could see his face. He turned on his side, kissing the tip of Louis' nose.

"Of course not, it would be amazing to have you by my side, but with your …"

"I quit my job," Louis cut him off.

He had said it matter of fact, as if it were nothing. Harry frowned and Louis sensed it because he giggled.

"Surprise!" he exclaimed.

"What the fuck are you telling me?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"I. Quit. My. Job," Louis repeated slowly, as if Harry were stupid.

"Yeah, I understood, but how? Why?"

"I didn't like what I was doing," Louis sighed. "And my book… The sales are higher than we expected."

"Really? That's amazing, love! Tell me more!"

Louis giggled and hid his face in the crook of Harry's neck. Even after all these years, he was shy about his success. Harry wrapped an arm around his waist, hand rubbing his back.

"Augustin said he'd like me to write another book for the end of the year," Louis whispered, his breath hot against Harry's neck. "If it pleases him, he wants to sign a contract with me. So I guess I have a new job now. A job I can do everywhere."

The words were thrown in the air and Harry couldn't explain the wave of relief that washed over him. Louis quit a job he didn't like. Louis was writing books. Louis was going to live off his passion. Harry could feel little tears stinging his eyes.

"Baby, fuck, I'm so happy right now," he sighed, kissing Louis' temple. "So fucking happy and proud of you. I love you."

"I love you too," Louis giggled. "So I was thinking that maybe I could come with you to LA and…"

"Of course! Of course! I'd love to…"

"Shhh, let me finish," Louis put his hand over Harry's mouth and didn't even wince when he licked his palm. "I don't wanna live in LA. My life's here in London. Our lives. But I want to be closer to you than before. It can only work if you can work from home from time to time."

"A 50-50 deal?"

"Yeah, totally. What do you think?"

"It's a really good idea. Dunno why we didn't think about it before."

"Because we're both dumb."

They giggled softly and then the silence fell upon them. It was comforting and safe. Harry could feel Louis' steady heartbeat against his, his breath tickling his neck, the fluttering of his lashes against his skin when he closed his eyes. For the first time in many months, Harry was peaceful. He was at home, with his husband falling asleep in his arms, lulled by his soft breathing. He hoped that it wasn't a dream, that Louis wouldn't vanish once he woke up. Sometimes, he felt like he couldn't quite understand what had happened the last few months. He had almost gotten divorced. He had made terrible mistakes and had almost gotten divorced . It was surreal. He was ready to move on and hoped everything would be alright. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Louis again. He shook his head to get rid of the thought and pressed his lips to Louis' forehead. He was drooling on his chest and snoring a little and Harry let out a happy sigh. He was sure that the best was yet to come.