Chapter Text
December 24 - Year 3
Their little tradition had truly begun two years ago, in their senior year of high school. Mid-winter break, Louis had been enjoying all that a high school house party had to offer. Booze, weed, unlimited rooms to wander through in a house furnished by parents who had seemingly vanished overnight. The theme had been Christmas Eve Eve, partygoers encouraged to dress festively.
He’d been drinking in the basement, watching a group of people play beer pong, when he spotted Harry. They’d never really spoken in school, and Louis couldn’t say with certainty how the night had ended with Harry blowing him in a guest room, red Santa hat lying deserted beside him.
When they were finished, Harry checked his phone and announced it was really Christmas Eve. Before he could think better of it, Louis announced that meant it was his birthday. Harry was outraged, said he’d have done better if he’d known, and promised to make it up to him the following year.
The months stretched and senior year came to a close. Louis hadn’t thought twice about the offhand comment Harry had made in December. He went off to college in New York and thought less and less about Detroit in general. But that first winter break home from school he got a text from an unknown number:
Free tonight? Was serious about making up for last year.
Harry had been serious. Serious enough to get Louis’ number from one of their few mutual connections — some guy Louis had done a group project with sophomore year. Serious enough to sneak in Louis’ window once his house was quiet and reveal himself prepped, lubed, and begging Louis to fuck him. Serious enough to suggest they go again next year before pulling his jeans on and wishing Louis a happy birthday.
So this year was year 3, but it was also year 1, because it was the first year Louis was waiting for it.
He’d gotten home from college five days earlier, dumped his bags in his childhood bedroom and tried not to check his phone every time it buzzed. He’d gone sledding with his sisters, made them hot cocoa then — and every time their mom turned her back.
He’d seen his friends and they’d snuck into the bar in Ann Arbor that never carded, knowing their clientele was underage U of M students and sad alumni reliving their glory days. They’d done Greenfield Village as a family, where his grandma demanded to know everything she could about New York and Lottie wanted him to goad the reenactors into breaking character with her. It was by all means the most typical winter break ever, except there was one person he’d been thinking of since his plane landed.
His phone lit up at 11:48 pm on the 23rd.
Harry: happy almost birthday :) u home?
He waited a polite two minutes before replying.
Louis: yep
Harry: ok…can i come over
Louis: window's unlocked
Ordinarily, Louis would have needed to straighten his room, but he had cleaned today in anticipation, much to his mother’s surprise. Instead, he played on his phone until just past oe a.m. when he heard the window start to rattle. He crossed the room and opened it all the way, allowing Harry to throw one leg in and then the other.
“Hi,” he said, curls tucked under a beanie and cheeks pink from the cold. He was carrying a Target bag which he passed off to Louis. “Happy birthday.”
Louis lifted the bag, brow raising. “You brought a present?”
Harry shrugged, toeing off his boots. “Only polite.”
The bag was heavy and it rustled when Louis set it on his desk. He pulled out each item. A bottle of overpriced lube, a package of condoms, a redbull, and one of those Hershey’s plastic candy canes, nearly empty. Louis reached for the chocolate.
“What the fuck are these?”
“Those are Hershey’s kisses, Louis,” Harry replied matter of factly.
“I know that. Why are there only three?”
Harry sighed, already pulling his sweatshirt and shirt over his head. “I got hungry on the drive, okay?”
“You are so weird.”
Louis set the candy down and moved methodically, setting the lube and condoms onto his nightstand and pulling his own shirt off. Harry leaned forward from where he sat on the bed and tugged Louis closer by the waistband of his sweats.
“You like it,” he grinned.
Louis didn’t reply, just pulled the beanie off Harry’s head and tossed it aside, falling into the bed beside him. He barely had time to adjust before Harry was crawling all over him, palms sliding over his bare chest.
“Of course I fucking like it,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Your hands are freezing, though.”
Harry shrugged unapologetically, continuing to warm himself on Louis' bare skin.
Louis shifted, rolling on top of him and pinning Harry's wrists to the mattress. Harry let out a surprised sound that made heat creep down Louis' spine. Louis dragged his mouth down Harry's neck, sucking and biting until Harry wriggled one hand free and grabbed a fistful of Louis’ hair, back arching into him when Louis took a nipple between his teeth.
His hand instinctively trailed down Harry’s back, under the waistband of his jeans. He worked the button and zipper down without looking, then pulled back to shove the denim down in one rough motion.
Harry sat up halfway, and tugged at Louis' joggers until Louis kicked them off, annoyed at the fabric. Harry fell back into the mattress, pulling Louis down with him. Louis settled beside him, hand finding his waist to pull Harry forward, grinding their half-hard cocks into each other. Their kisses were sloppy and open-mouthed, familiar.
Louis slotted a knee in between Harry’s legs, grinding down once, slow and mean. His mouth found Harry’s neck again, sucking dark marks into the skin there. Harry ran his nails down Louis’ back, head tilting back as he groaned.
“Fuck, Louis–”
Louis didn’t respond aside from a slight chuckle against the tender skin of Harry’s neck. He gave one more small bite before reaching onto the side table for the lube.
“On your stomach,” Louis demanded.
Harry scoffed in mock offense, but his eyes were already wide and desperate. “Bossy,” he murmured, rolling over.
Louis knelt between Harry’s thighs, pulling them apart just enough. He cracked open the lube bottle and rubbed some between his fingers before reaching for Harry. Louis took his time, teasing before pressing one finger in slowly. He crooked it slightly, watching the way Harry’s body twitched underneath him.
Harry moaned out fragments of a thought. “Please–more–fuck.”
Louis let out a breathy laugh, leaning forward to kiss down Harry's spine as he slid a second finger in. “Like that?” he asked.
Harry nodded, pushing back against Louis’ hand, impatient. Louis reached blindly for a condom, leaning back and tearing the wrapper open with his mouth. He rolled it over himself with one hand, the other still moving inside of Harry. He pulled his fingers out slowly and lined himself up. He spread Harry open wide, pushing just the tip in at first.
Louis pressed in slowly, watching Harry grip the sheets. “Okay?”
“Yes, fucking move.” Harry said, pressing into Louis.
He wanted to tease more, he really did, but Harry was so warm and tight and his knuckles were whitening where he'd balled the sheets into one fist. They worked into an urgent, rough rhythm — Harry letting out garbled, strained noises, each turning Louis greedier than the last.
"You feel so fucking good," Louis drawled, fingers digging into the skin at Harry's hips.
Harry moaned into a pillow, grinding back by way of replying. Louis watched with stunned amazement as Harry reached under himself with one hand and began to work himself fast.
"I won't last," he said, seconds before he trembled and came, pulling Louis over the edge with him at the sight of it.
After, they collapsed into his sheets, not talking. Eventually, Louis stood and rolled his condom off, tied it in a knot and tossed it in the trash can. He passed Harry a few tissues before he got back in bed.
Harry cleaned himself briskly, eyes down. Louis watched and let himself wonder, again, what he actually knew about this person.
“You’re in school where, again?" Louis asked, attempting casual. "Washington?”
Harry exhaled a soft laugh out of his nose, not looking up at Louis as he grabbed a second tissue. “Yeah. Seattle.”
“What are you studying?”
Harry looked at him and cocked his head to the side. He caught Louis off guard when he replied, “That’s a little personal.”
Louis laughed, sharp. “Is it? I was just inside you.”
Harry shrugged, still not keen to answer Louis’ question. The room fell into silence again. Harry got up to throw away the Kleenex then got dressed.
“Maybe I’ll tell you next year,” Harry said, pulling his coat over his shoulders.
"Sure,” Louis said. “Next year.”
Harry made for the window, a cool burst of air rushing in when he opened it. Before he dipped out, he told Louis Happy Birthday one more time.
༄ ⋆⁺₊❅.
December 21 - Year 4
Louis had been dragged out to some arcade bar in Ferndale by his hometown friends Ethan and Andrew, who were both already half-drunk and making him watch them play Pac-Man.
He hadn't planned on going out, he’d been meant to watch A Christmas Story with his sisters but his mom had pushed him, reminding him that he only saw people from home every so often. A tidbit that felt a bit ironic once he spotted Harry at the bar.
He looked the same as always, but his hair was a little longer, brushing against his shoulders now. Harry was laughing with a girl Louis didn’t recognize, holding a neon pink drink in a novelty cup with the bar’s name on the side. He’d given a little thought to what he figured would happen in a few days, but hadn’t been expecting to see Harry in public.
Louis turned to his friends. “I’ll be right back,” he said, tapping the top of the game table. They were so locked in it went unacknowledged.
He approached the bar, planning to order another beer before talking to Harry. He was waiting for his drink when he heard him.
“Louis?”
He turned, Harry was already walking toward him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Hey, Harry. A few days early, aren’t we?”
The bartender placed his glass down and Louis told her the name on his tab.
“Guess so. Who’re you here with?” Harry asked, nodding towards Ethan and Andrew. So he’d been watching Louis, too.
“Just some friends from high school,” Louis explained, sipping his beer. “What brings you out?”
“My cousin.” Harry pointed at her down the bar and she waved politely. He glanced at Louis’ beer. “I should have just gotten a beer, ordered for the name and it’s horrible. Behold the Jolly Pink Panties.” Harry held up his bright pink cup.
“What do you want, then?” Louis asked, already flagging down the bartender. Harry ordered a PBR and Louis put it on his tab.
They talked for a little while, caught up, which for them meant Louis answered Harry's questions and Harry spun everything away from himself and into something flirtatious. It was all laced with anticipation. After a while, Harry’s cousin took the hint and left. Ethan and Andrew were nowhere to be found, either.
“You look good,” Harry blurted at some point after his second pint. “I’m not one to mess with tradition but—“
“I’ve got a minivan parked outside,” Louis cut in.
Harry chuckled. “A minivan?”
Louis rolled his eyes. “My family car. Want to go or not?”
Harry grinned and gave a short nod. Louis closed his tab and shot a text to Ethan and Andrew that he was heading out early, not to wait up. He nodded towards the door, Harry close behind him.
The minivan was freezing. Louis had to smack the rolling door to get it to open, and by the time they were climbing in they were already shivering. Harry shut the door behind him and didn't even pretend to wait, immediately pulling Louis in by his collar.
Their mouths met hard, mostly tongue. They stumbled in the dark for a moment, trying to find somewhere comfortable to sit before Harry broke off the kiss.
“Can you make it comfy somehow?” He asked, slight incredulity in his tone.
“Sure, princess. Give me a moment."
He dug for the keys in his coat pocket, leaned over the center console to turn the engine, and heat, on. Then he reached over the bench seat to pull a blanket from the back row. He set it on the seat.
Harry caught Louis by surprise, immediately shoving him against the door. He landed half on top of Louis, bracketing him there, and Harry just stared at him for a moment.
Louis ran a hand through Harry’s hair and muttered, “Longer than last year.”
“You like it?” Harry grinned, pulling at the zipper of Louis’ jacket. Louis nodded and pushed a hand under Harry’s sweater, feeling bare skin. He pulled the sweater up and off, then leaned in to mouth at Harry’s neck.
Harry gasped. “Not wasting time?”
“It’s freezing,” Louis deadpanned. “You wanna get sentimental, do it with your clothes off.”
“God you’re romantic,” Harry muttered. Still, he obliged, lifting his hips back to help Louis get his jeans open.
Louis settled onto his knees on the floor, pulling Harry's briefs down. His cock sprung forward, already hard, and it struck Louis that this was his first time seeing Harry like this.
"You're so hard," he said, licking his palm before taking Harry in his hand, feeling him twitch.
Harry's throat bobbed. "Have been for, like, thirty minutes," he said. Then, in a tone like he'd regretted admitting that as soon as he'd said it, "Wanna feel your mouth."
Louis didn't need to hear more, he took Harry in his mouth and worked him quickly, one hand firmly settled at the base of his cock. Harry's hand found the back of Louis' head, not pushing, just holding onto something as his breaths grew shakier.
He could feel the tension in Harry's body, the way he pulled at Louis' scalp, how he kept trying to thrust and then stopping himself, remembering their space constraints. He held Harry steady with a hand on his thigh, the other still working at his cock.
The windows grew foggy and Louis was glad he'd parked in a desolate part of the lot, away from lights and pedestrians. Gladder, even, when Harry came unannounced with a sharp shout. Heat hit the back of Louis' throat and he swallowed without a second thought.
Harry returned the favor, and it didn’t take Louis long. It was messy and familiar, like all the years before, but this time when Harry leaned back and wiped his mouth he said, “Happy early birthday.”
They quietly fumbled back into their clothes, and sat for a moment.
“You still want me to come for your birthday?” Harry asked as he pulled his coat back on.
Louis paused for a moment. “Yeah, if you want to.”
Harry nodded and smiled faintly, cheeks still flushed. “Then I’ll be there,” he promised before opening the door and stepping out. Louis followed, hand on the drivers door, watching Harry's breath in the cold as he walked away.
“See you, Harry.”
“See ya,” Harry replied without turning around, just offering a small wave.
❆
Louis didn’t receive the text from Harry in the late hours of the 23rd as usual. He heard nothing at all, and eventually fell asleep in the early hours of his actual birthday. He woke up to a mysterious:
Harry: happy birthday! sorry, will see you later
Louis thumbsed up the message and went about his day as normal. Lottie and his mom cooked a birthday brunch of his favorites — eggs benedict, hashbrowns, and orange juice. His dad took him to the mall, and they weaved their way through the last minute Christmas shoppers until they were at the record store, where he bought Louis three new records. Home by mid-afternoon for sledding, then each kid took their turn freshening up and putting on festive pajamas while his mom ordered Chinese food.
Louis opened presents while they waited for food — all things small enough he could take back to New York with him. A track jacket, gift card to Mud Coffee, and a couple cassettes. They ate their takeout on the couch, containers perched on their knees while they watched something he'd let the twins pick. When the movie ended, they headed to the table for cake. It was the same cake she baked him every year, topped with a 21 now.
Chocolate slices were passed around, accompanied with mint chocolate chip ice cream. He was two bites in when his phone lit up.
Harry: outside
Louis stilled, staring at the message on his screen. It was far too cold outside to tell Harry to wait, but he’d given Louis no heads up. He'd never even used their front door before.
“Everything alright?” His mom asked, noticing the shift in his demeanor.
“Um, yeah.” Louis cleared his throat. “Actually, my friend just told me he’s here.”
“Oh! Well then invite him in for cake,” his dad said.
His mom smiled fondly. “Yeah, Lou, the more the merrier. Go on.”
Louis stood despite the lump in his stomach. He dragged his feet towards the front door and stood by it for a moment before swinging it open.
Harry stood outside, picturesque with the snow falling softly behind him. His curls were loose, a big red scarf wrapped around his neck. He was standing in the driveway, eyes on Louis' window like he was waiting for permission to climb up. He seemed surprised to see the front door open.
“Hi,” Harry said, walking up the steps onto the porch.
“You’re early,” Louis replied sternly, eyes darting in the direction of the dining room, where the clatter of plates and low hum of conversation was audible.
Harry shifted his weight, backing away from the door frame a bit. “Oh shit. I was in the neighborhood…I didn’t realize you’d have, like, plans.”
“It’s my birthday. Of course I have plans.”
Harry winced slightly. “You’re right, yeah. Sorry, I can go. Or wait in the car or something.”
“It’s too cold for that,” Louis sighed, shaking his head. “Look, come in, have cake, just don’t make it weird.”
“If you insist,” Harry said, a hint of exasperation in his voice though he was already crossing the threshold and taking his scarf off.
Harry followed him into the dining room and Louis introduced him as a friend from high school he’d recently reconnected with. His parents didn’t ask questions, just sent one of the twins to get Harry a plate.
“So, Harry,” his mom started as she sliced a piece of cake. “Are you in school, too?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’m at Seattle University.”
“Washington, eh? You don’t miss the Michigan snow?” His dad asked.
Harry glanced to the window, where the flakes were falling fast outside. “There’s so much rain there, I feel like I forget about snow until Christmas every year.” He nodded seriously. “I miss the way snow looks, not how it feels.”
Louis’ mom passed him a plate with cake and ice cream. Harry complimented it immediately.
“What do you study, Harry?” Lottie asked, brow raised. Her and Louis were the closest, not only in age, and she was surely thrown off by the fact that she’d never heard of or met this Harry before. Louis could tell he had the third degree waiting for him soon, especially since he didn’t expect Harry to answer that question.
“Social work,” Harry said, cutting into the cake with the side of his fork.
Louis turned sharply to look at him. Not because he hadn’t thought Harry had a major, but because he hadn’t expected it to be that, and hadn’t expected the answer to flow so easily.
Lottie tilted her head. “Really?”
Harry nodded, chewing. “Yeah, it’s not the flashiest thing, but I like it.”
“Do you want to work in a school?” Jay, who was a teacher, asked.
“Eventually, maybe.” Harry’s tone was thoughtful. “Right now I’m more interested in community organizations — youth centers, mutual aid programs, that kind of thing.”
Louis stared at him, a little dazed. There had been an honest weight to Harry’s words. Nothing performative to it, not even anything sentimental, but some kind of openness Louis hadn’t seen in four years of sort of knowing Harry.
Daisy, one of the 8 year old twins, piped up then, “You don’t look like a social worker.”
“Dais," Louis said, rolling his eyes, "Do you even know what a social worker is?”
Harry put a hand up to Louis. "It’s okay, Lou.” Then, turning back to his sister, “What do I look like?”
She studied him for a moment, mouth drawn to one side and brows furrowed. At once, her expression relaxed and she exclaimed, “A musician!”
A collective calm washed over the table, each of the Tomlinsons aware of how risky it is to ask a second grader what you look like. Harry chuckled.
“Close, I play a little guitar,” he answered, still smiling.
“You gotta teach Louis,” Lottie interjected, mashing at her ice cream with her fork. “He’s always playing the saddest song you’ve ever heard with the most beautiful guitar riff.”
The room was filled with hums and nods of agreement.
“What the hell, guys?” Louis said, looking around at his family. They broke into laughter together, Harry included, and Louis felt his own mouth twitch despite himself.
Conversation resumed — talk of holiday plans and New Year’s Resolutions. Louis watched as Harry fielded every question from his family, dodging some gently but mostly answering earnestly.
It crossed Louis’ mind that Harry probably was suited for social work. He was charming and a good listener, remembering details and asking follow-up questions. He laughed with Louis’ mom, let Phoebe braid a piece of his hair, and talked to Lottie about her hobbies and life goals like he gave a shit.
When everyone was done, Louis stood and began collecting plates. Harry got up from his chair immediately.
“Louis, it's your birthday, I can take these.”
“Harry, you’re a guest–I’ve got it,” Jay said, “Why don’t you boys go to the basement or something?”
Louis’ eyes flicked to Harry. He nodded. “Sure, thanks.”
Louis led the way to the staircase after Harry dropped a “Thanks for the cake” to his parents and said goodnight to all the girls. The basement was warm, and had always been Louis’ sanctuary. String lights hung from the ceiling, board and video games scattered around, the living room couch they’d outgrown sat before a flatscreen.
A small mini fridge sat in the corner, Louis crossed to it as Harry settled on the couch.
“You want a drink? We have beer, cider, and seltzer I think.”
“Cider, sure."
Louis grabbed two of the cherry ciders and cracked them open. “I never knew that stuff about you,” he said, passing one to Harry.
Harry took a sip, looking into the distance thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you need to?” he asked, finally.
“Guess not,” he shrugged. Louis settled into the couch beside Harry and he scooted closer, pressing his folded knee into Louis’ thigh. “Where were you yesterday?”
“So many questions, Louis. Can you just fuck me already?”
“When the house is quiet,” Louis nodded. He leaned forward to pick up two controllers off the coffee table. “Til then, we can play Mario or something.”
Harry groaned as if he wasn’t the one who showed up to Louis’ house at 8pm expecting his entire family to be asleep. Despite that, he played well. No match for Louis, exactly, but well enough. Just past eleven his mom ducked her head into the basement to say goodnight, and Louis waited until he heard the footsteps upstairs stop to run up to his room for lube and condoms.
They fucked on the carpeted floor, hard enough for Louis to be left with a rug burn on both of his knees. Harry finished first and Louis, nowhere near yet, pulled out and took the condom off—letting Harry work him with his mouth and hands to the edge. They didn’t talk much, they didn’t have to. It was comfortable and familiar and Louis expected it when Harry left with a kiss and a promise to see him in another year.
༄ ⋆⁺₊❅.
December 24 - Year 5
Louis wasn’t looking forward to his birthday this year, not even the Harry of it all. Senior year had been tough on him, New York was not easy and his uncertain future was looming in the distance.
He’d kept up with his assignments and was studying what he loved —journalism— but he still felt like he was slipping behind because everyone else had connections he didn’t. He’d worked the same coffee shop job all four years, and it paid the bills for a cramped three bedroom with roommates in Brooklyn, but didn’t leave him with much to show in his actual field.
On top of that, he’d been dumped by a guy who he’d been seeing since March because he’d decided to move to Sweden in the new year. Louis moped about in the morning, didn’t make plans with anyone, tried to avoid his phone altogether as birthday texts flew in.
Harry’s message this year, though, was so intriguing it deserved a reply.
Harry: wanna get lunch?
Not happy birthday, not see you tonight. Nothing that Louis might have expected. He stared at the message. Why the fuck would Harry want lunch? His curiosity won over.
Louis: sure. where?
Harry: la shish?
When Louis arrived at the restaurant, Harry was already waiting in a booth. Each year was kinder to Harry than the last, he had been using college to grow into himself. His hair was even longer, tied up in a half up bun, and he wore a polka doted button up.
"Hey," Harry said, standing halfway and pulling Louis into an awkward hug. "Happy birthday."
"Thanks," Louis muttered, shuffling into the booth. He picked up a menu. "This is weird. You know that, right?" Louis commented, glancing up at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Just felt like I owed you a meal after all this time."
"Uh-huh," Louis said, squinting at Harry, who hadn't even bothered to look up from his menu. Their waiter came by, dropped two glasses of water, pita with garlic sauce, and took their orders. Shwarma for Louis and a lentil and rice plate for Harry.
They talked easily for a while, as if they'd ever really had a conversation before. Louis complained about New York, the trains, the people, the regular at his job who always wanted an extra hot americano (not possible). Harry talked about the off-campus apartment he shared with a classmate, his volunteer shifts at the food pantry. It was nice to see a window into who Harry actually was, but it was still markedly impersonal. Their food arrived just as Louis asked something that Harry stilled a bit at.
"So, have you been home for all of break?"
He hadn't thought much of it, but could see the question caused a trepidation in Harry he hadn't seen before.
"Stayed back a bit, got here on the 22nd," Harry said, fork pushing rice around on his plate.
"Late finals or something?" Louis guessed.
"Sort of," Harry said, tone careful. "Uh, Ian couldn't get time off of work to come with me, we did a little early Christmas there."
Louis chewed, processing the name drop. "Ian?"
Harry glanced up at Louis, pursing his lips slightly. "Yeah, Ian. My boyfriend," he said easily, "We've been together since June."
"Oh," Louis said. It didn't land like a punch to the gut, just caught him off guard. "Cool."
"It's not like, serious or anything," Harry said, chewing his food. "Well, its not not-serious, it's just a thing I guess."
Louis couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Does he know you're here?"
"Technically." Harry chewed on his lip for a moment before explaining. "He thinks I'm getting lunch with a friend."
"That'd be true if we were friends," Louis said, raising a brow. "So, that's why this is lunch instead of the regular…"
Harry thought for a moment. "Yeah, I thought lunch might be…neutral enough. I didn't want to leave you hanging, you know?"
Louis laughed. "You are so weirdly polite, you know that? You could have just told me to fuck off this year."
Harry shrugged, smiling. "I like seeing you."
"Well," Louis started, deflecting because he didn't know what to do with that, "You've seen me, what now?"
"There's an antique shop downtown doing a sale 'til 4," Harry said, checking his watch. "Would you want to check that out?"
Louis quirked a brow, but rather than vocalize his questioning of Harry's behavior, just gave a slight nod. "Sure, could be cool."
"I kinda need a ride anyway," Harry added. "My mom dropped me here."
Louis had a mouthful but nodded, affirming he'd chauffer. They ate the rest of their meal in silence, not awkwardly, though. Louis wondered if he'd ever see Harry again. If today was his way of saying goodbye. They weren't really anything to each other; it shouldn't matter if it was the last time, but he felt a little tug in his stomach at the thought anyway. If Louis were his boyfriend, if Louis were Ian, and learned about their arrangement, Harry would not be sitting here.
Perfect, pretty Harry, an enigma whom Louis learned more about each passing year. Who he wondered about a few times a month, during quiet train rides or boring classes, his mind would wander to what Harry could be doing across the country from him.
Was he shopping in Pike Place Market or at the tip of the Space Needle? Was he on a ferry or in the mountains? Do people in Seattle even do those things? Is that the equivalent of Harry imagining Louis on a rowboat in Central Park or climbing the steps to the crown of Lady Liberty?
Harry probably didn't think about that anyway. He probably thought about Ian. Maybe Louis should find someone in his own time zone to daydream about.
Harry paid for their meal and they made their way to Louis' minivan, immediately cranking the heat.
"Good memories in here," Harry remarked, buckling up. He fumbled for his phone, pulled up the directions for the antique store, and placed it in the cup holder for Louis.
"Alright, Harry, yeah," Louis smirked, pulling out of the parking spot.
In the car, Harry couldn't stop fidgeting. He flicked around the dial on the radio.
"You really don't have any way for me to play my playlist in here?" he bemoaned.
"Harry, it's a four-minute drive," Louis sighed, gesturing at the directions on the dash.
"Okay?" Harry huffed, still searching for a station that was to his liking. He landed on the local college station, which was playing a shoegaze cover of a Beatles song.
"Oh, I love this station," Louis supplied. "My friend Ty has a show on here Tuesday nights."
"Ty! I know Ty. He's what…the three a.m. slot?"
"That's him," Louis nodded and cast a sideways glance at Harry. "Wait, why do you know that so specifically?" he chuckled.
Harry paused, fiddled with his fingers a bit before replying. "I like his show. He's funny. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping, he's on at midnight for me so I'll pull up the webplayer and see what's going on back at home, you know?"
"Huh, yeah, that makes sense," Louis mustered as he pulled into a spot at the antique store.
Like a flip had switched for Harry, he slapped his hands on his knees and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Let's go!" he demanded, swinging open the car door without a glance back.
The bell on the door chimed as Louis followed Harry into the antique store. More of a mall, really. It looked like an old supermarket had been chopped up into booths, each rented out to a different seller. It was endless.
Harry slowed instantly, hands tucked into his coat pockets as he took it all in. For a split second, he looked as he had at that party senior year. Eyes darting everywhere, not sure where to start. There was a woman seated near the entrance, greeting customers.
"Looks like you two will need one of these," she said warmly, offering Louis a shopping basket and gesturing to Harry, who was still awestruck.
Louis nodded a thank you and took the basket. Harry refocused then, following Louis to the furthest aisle of booths to start. Harry moved slowly in here, quietly, calmly. Louis had never seen him like this before, running his fingertips over tabletops and picking up small objects for closer inspection. In a booth full of old toys, he lifted a silver Tamagotchi.
"This is exactly like the one I had as a kid," Harry said flippantly, turning it over in his hands. "Don't know what happened to it, but I remember playing with it all through my parents' divorce."
Louis wasn't quite sure how to reply to that admission. "Oh. I didn't know…"
"It's fine," Harry clipped out, tossing the toy back into the bin it'd been in and moving towards the next booth. Louis couldn't say why he did it, but he reached for the keychain and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He could buy Harry a Christmas present, right?
Louis found time to slip away and pay for it before finding Harry again. He was crouched on the floor, deeply concentrated on someone's family photo album. Harry sensed Louis' presence without needing to turn around.
"I've never understood how things like this turn up here," he lamented, running his fingers carefully over the scrapbooked pages.
"Probably took hours," Louis agreed, leaning over Harry's shoulder for a better view. He could smell Harry's hair products from here, something subtle but deep. Sage, sea salt. The family was ice fishing on the page he'd stopped at.
Harry flipped another page, this one labeled Maggie's Third Birthday! Harry let out a long breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and tilted his head so it rested ever so slightly on Louis' shoulder. The contact, brief and chaste as it was, made Louis' heart race slightly, and he was stuck in place.
"I've gotta buy this," Harry decided. The side of his forehead brushed Louis' cheek as he straightened his body out, preparing to stand. Louis backed away and followed Harry towards the registers.
The air outside the mall bit at Louis, sharp wind threatening to whip tears out of his eyes. He unlocked the van and climbed in, turned the key and blasted the heat before speaking to Harry.
"Where now?" Louis would stretch this day as long as Harry would let him.
"Could you drop me at my dad's? I'm feeding their cats while they're away."
Louis didn't ask who they referred to, just nodded and passed Harry his phone so he could put the directions in. They ended up in a quiet residental neighborhood, a street full of gray snow-dusted houses. Harry pointed to one with a porch light on and a red sedan in the driveway.
"That's me," he said.
Louis pulled into the driveway. Neither of them moved right away. He was about to reach into his pocket to give Harry the gift before Harry spoke.
"You can come in," he said quickly. "Just for a minute."
Louis glanced at the house, then back at Harry. Against his better judgment, he conceded.
"Yeah, okay." He killed the engine.
The house was warm and inviting, but spotlessly clean. Louis followed Harry's lead, toeing his wet boots off and leaving them neatly on the rug by the door. They trailed up the small stairs that led to the main level of the house, then into the kitchen.
"Do you want, like, water or tea or anything?" Harry asked, already opening cabinets.
"Sure, yeah, surprise me," Louis said, wandering towards the fridge, which was littered with photos, drawings, report cards, and other proofs of life. He heard Harry turn the electric kettle on.
The items on the fridge pointed to a larger family than Louis had realized. There was one of an adolescent Harry at a Boy Scouts ceremony. He couldn't have been older than twelve, sandwiched between a man who must have been his father and a slight, raven-haired woman who could not have been his mother. Then, one of Harry a few years later, reading on the stairs to two small kids who were enraptured. A report card from this year, all A's, addressed to Owen Styles-Vallis.
There was a photo of just the two younger kids at a water park, timestamped from the year before.
"Who are they?" Louis asked carefully, tossing a glance at Harry who was contemplating tea flavors.
Harry shut the cabinet he'd been digging in, focusing on Louis.
"Oh," he said, stepping closer. "My siblings. Ella and Owen."
"I had no clue you had siblings."
"And when exactly would that have come up in the past five years, Louis?"
Louis tried to ignore the flirtatious tone in Harry's voice, reminding himself that he was spoken for. Harry had Ian waiting patiently in Seattle, and the fact that he kept referencing all the times they'd fucked meant nothing.
"Oh, I don't know," Louis pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe the time you crashed my birthday dinner and met all of mine?"
He turned towards Harry, resisting the urge to close the distance between them. Harry studied him, his eyes openly catching on Louis' mouth for a moment too long.
Harry scoffed. "That was an accident and you know it," he stepped back towards the tea he was preparing, busying his hands. "Anyway, yeah. Two siblings. My dad and stepmom adopted them when I was in middle school. Owen was just a baby then. I think they're 12 and 8 now."
"You think?" Louis suppressed a chuckle.
"No, I know." he paused for a moment, opening the cupboard again and selecting a box of Earl Grey. He shrugged before continuing, "It just surprises me how quickly they grow when I'm not here, I guess."
"I get that."
Louis' own sisters had a habit of growing like weeds and experiencing firsts without him.
Harry put their mugs on the kitchen table without replying. He settled into a cushioned seat, and Louis sat next to him. A quiet fell over them for a few moments.
"Sorry," Harry said abruptly, "I'm bad at this part."
"At what part?"
"Hosting, I guess. I never really have people over."
Louis nodded, reaching for his mug. "You're doing just fine, I'd say."
Harry chuckled lowly, readjusting in his seat a little. His knee brushed Louis' thigh, but he settled, leaving it there. Louis disguised a heavy sigh as though he was just blowing air on his tea before pulling away.
"I've got something for you," he said, reaching into his pocket.
Harry sat up straight, putting his mug down.
"For me?" he echoed.
Louis had the Tamogatchi clutched firmly in his palm. "Forgive the fact that I didn't have wrapping paper," he said, reaching for Harry's hand. Harry offered it, and Louis placed the toy in his palm before folding Harry's fingers over it.
Harry pulled his hand in close, genuine surprise crossing his features when he saw what he was holding.
"You didn't! When did you even buy this?"
Louis shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "You said you lost yours."
Harry turned it over in his hands before looking back at Louis. There was something new in his expression that Louis couldn't quite put a finger on. "Thank you," he said, throwing his arms around Louis' neck. He pulled back, but placed a hand on Louis' thigh.
"Fuck, it's your birthday, and you got me a gift. I don't have anything for you."
Louis laughed, "Don't worry about it, it's Christmas too. I know this about my birthday."
Harry smiled, and seemed to still for a split second before he was leaning in, catching Louis in a kiss that shocked him.
"Harry," he warned, pulling away.
Harry shook his head, shushing him. "Louis, don't. Can't we just…" he trailed off, looking at the ceiling for a moment. "I don't want things to change."
"It's a bad idea," Louis murmured.
Harry nodded once. "I know."
His voice had already gone husky and low, the way Louis had always heard it. That was all he needed. Louis leaned back in, one hand finding the back of Harry's neck with the other anchored on his waist.
Harry's mouth felt so good, hot and wet and familiar. Louis kissed him greedily, worried they'd snap into consciousness at any moment and realize that this was wrong. Harry scooted to the edge of his seat, deepening their kiss. Suddenly Louis was tugging at his waist, beckoning him forwards into his lap.
Harry obliged, settling onto Louis easily. He rocked his hips back and forth, putting pressure on Louis' hardening cock.
"Fuck, Harry," he breathed out against his lips before fully breaking their kiss. "Show me your room."
It came out a little more aggressive than he'd wanted it to, but Harry smirked like he'd been waiting to hear it.
Louis trailed kisses down his neck and Harry ground into him once more before planting his feet on the ground and standing. Harry pushed their mugs into the center of the table.
"The cat," he explained.
Louis could not care what the cat, or anything else in this house got up to in the coming minutes. He couldn't stop touching Harry. He followed close behind as they walked towards the stairs, a hand settled on Harry's hip, picking at the hem of his shirt. As they reached the landing he came in contact with bare skin and couldn't stop himself from pulling Harry around and pressing him to the wall.
Harry's breath caught, frozen in bewilderment and face to face with Louis now. Louis slipped both hands under his shirt now, moving the fabric out of the way to kiss the bare skin it revealed. He pulled it over Harry's head and tossed it to the floor, kissing up Harry's stomach and the line of his neck.
Harry shuddered slightly, sounds of approval passing through his pretty lips. Louis reached towards Harry's mouth and let his thumb trail over the soft skin, feeling the sounds. His lips parted around Louis' thumb, tongue grazing it. Louis watched him intently, learning Harry in the light.
He slid his hand down Harry's body until Louis sunk to his knees, eyes now trained on the bulge in Harry's jeans.
"Fuck," he said breathily, undoing the button and zipper. Louis was vaguely aware of Harry stepping out of them and kicking them aside, but he was far too busy kissing along the top of Harry's briefs to notice anything else.
He was helplessly aware of Harry's cock behind the fabric as he explored the soft skin and sparse hair around it. Felt it pressing onto his cheek as he kissed beside it. Harry was growing more restless by the second, clearly relieved when Louis' hands wrapped around his backside and hooked around the waistband of the briefs.
Louis didn't even look as he pulled the underwear over Harry's cock. He felt it spring back, though, and it landed hard just beside his face. Again, he was distantly aware that Harry had thrown his briefs aside, but could only focus on kissing towards the base of his cock.
When he reached it, he brought one hand to the base, holding Harry steady as he licked a stripe from base to tip.
"Yes, Louis, fuck," Harry stuttered out.
Louis grinned, flicking his tongue over the head before taking him into his mouth completely. He could feel Harry's body reacting beneath him, hear his heavy breathing. Harry's fingers tangled in Louis' hair, guiding him for a moment.
"God, I want you to fuck me," Harry announced, pushing Louis away. Louis stood, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Harry's biceps, trapping him momentarily in another kiss. He released Harry and followed him to a door down the hall.
Harry's room was a time capsule just as Louis' was. Old posters on the wall, a few things with their school's logo on it. His high school diploma on a desk cluttered with college work. There was no time to snoop, though. Harry was already digging through a drawer, probably searching for lube and a condom.
Louis stripped down to his underwear before approaching Harry from behind, wrapping his hands around his waist. He kissed his neck and ran his fingertips over Harry's stomach.
Harry silently swatted Louis' hand away as it travelled lower. He found what he'd been looking for, and placed the condom down on the nightstand. Louis put his palm out before Harry set the lube down, though.
"Oh, okay," Harry understood, opening the lube and pouring a bit into Louis' hand.
Louis warmed the liquid in his hand as he kissed down Harry's spine.
"Turn," Louis said, voice bold. "Lean over the bed."
The bed was tall, and Harry obeyed, bending over the edge, forearms bracing himself and back arched, already offering. Louis once again settled onto his knees. He nipped and kissed at Harry's ass, teasing closer before lifting a lubed finger to his hole.
Harry was tense for a moment before relaxing into it. Louis rubbed small circles until he could press the tip of his pointer finger inside. This was their first time in an empty house, and he couldn't believe how loudly Harry was moaning.
Louis didn't want to rip his eyes away from this scene, Harry's tight hole presented so eagerly. The way he was pressing into Louis' touch. More than that, though, Louis had to taste it.
He kept working Harry with his finger, but he leaned back in, massaging his asscheek with one hand, spreading him apart and kissing towards his hole. They'd never done this before.
"Can I?" He paused, making sure his breath hot and deliberately close.
"Of course," Harry gasped. "Fuck, please, yes."
With that permission granted, Louis leaned in, pressing his tongue right above his finger. Harry tasted like skin and sweat, and he released a heady moan at the contact. Louis worked him like that, slipping the tip of his tongue in and then a second finger.
Harry released a string of expletives and then, "I can't take this much longer."
Louis moaned in response, slowing down a bit but not stopping right away. Then, he pulled his tongue out and stood, keeping his two fingers inside Harry the whole time.
"Okay, then, on the bed."
Harry listened, crawling up and positioning himself on all fours. Louis was happy to take him from behind. He added a third finger and Harry jolted forward before settling onto it, fucking himself on Louis' fingers. Louis became suddenly aware of his own cock, throbbing with it, his own control thinning.
He was aching for Harry and he pulled his fingers out slowly. Harry gasped at the loss of contact and Louis reached for the condom on the nightstand.
Harry was whining and begging by this point. Spluttering nonsense while Louis tore the package and rolled the condom over his dick.
"So fucking impatient," Louis chided with a low laugh.
Truthfully, it was taking everything in Louis to be patient, but he wanted to take his time. They shouldn't be doing this, and he didn't know if they ever would again. The image of Harry panicking and kicking him out once they were done had flickered through Louis' mind.
He brushed the thought off , refocusing on Harry in front of him. He took some more lube on his fingers and put them back on Harry.
Harry immediately started trying to fuck himself against Louis' hand again, so Louis put his free hand firmly on his waist, stopping him in place. When he felt enough lube had been applied in and around Harry, he lined his cock up.
Harry shuddered in anticipation, and Louis carefully pressed the tip of his dick onto him as he pulled his fingers out. Not wanting to leave Harry empty for a moment, he pressed in slowly. Harry sucked in a sharp breath, pushing back.
Louis was able to bottom out quickly, trying not to get dizzy as he felt the warmth taking him in.
"Fuck, Harry, you're so good," he gasped out.
Harry responded with his body, grinding against Louis with a need so frantic it forced Louis into motion. Louis matched him, finding a pace that was rough and urgent and just right. He angled his hips, guided by memory now, hitting the spot he knew Harry wanted. He could tell he'd found it because Harry admitted something that was clearly a lapse in judgement.
"No one can fuck me like you," he groaned, voice nearly broken.
"I know," Louis said, breathless and meaner than intended. "Tell me more."
"I look forward to this every year," there was a tinge of self pity as he admitted it. " I couldn't skip you."
He punctuated this with a long slow grind onto Louis, reaching back to anchor himself with a hand on Louis' thigh.
"Yeah?" Louis' voice shook, at risk of losing the careful control he'd tried to keep as he grabbed Harry's hips and fucked him faster, harder. "Yeah?"
Harry was a mess of affirmative muttering, words lost now. Louis could feel him tightening.
"Are you close?" He asked. Harry nodded almost imperceptibly. "Touch yourself," he instructed, closer himself by the moment.
Harry's hand went between his legs immediately.
"Fuck!" he cried out. "Louis—I'm. Oh God, Louis."
"That's right, just like that," he encouraged. "Come with me, baby."
Harry shattered, voice cutting off in some form of Louis' name. Louis came with him, the heat and pressure of Harry's body around him pulling it out.
They cried out in unison, each fumbling through their words in some near identical variations of fuck,yes,oh my god. Louis was pretty sure he heard Harry say thank you at some point as well.
He pulled out slowly, carefully removing the full condom and tying it off. Harry flipped to his back and reached for a tissue box on his nightstand. Louis spotted a trash can under the desk and rose just to toss it out. After, he returned to the bed to lay beside Harry.
He didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Harry didn't either.
Until, quietly, laced with a bit of shame, "Happy birthday."
Louis couldn't contain himself, letting out a laugh he felt spread to his eyes.
"Happy birthday?" He questioned. "Are you for real?"
Harry shrugged. He disappeared for a moment back into the hallway and returned with his clothes. He fished around the pocket and pulled out his phone, checking his notifications and frowning before setting the device on the desk.
"Fuck," Harry said, running both hands through his hair. "That was so dumb."
He paced the room, still completely nude, skin flushed from sex and heat. Here he went, here he panicked. Louis expected to be kicked out any moment.
Louis wasn't sure what to say because Harry wasn't wrong. Not only did Harry have a boyfriend, but the sex they'd just had was not their standard, boilerplate hookup. At least it hadn't felt like it to Louis, it'd felt like something he didn't have the words for.
But Harry was freaking out, and Louis couldn't just sit there and let it happen.
"Hey, hey," he said softly. Harry's red rimmed eyes met his. Louis frowned at him and spread his arms. "Just come here."
Harry nodded, collapsing onto the bed and into Louis' arms. Louis instinctively rubbed a hand down Harry's spine. Neither of them spoke, Louis couldn't resist the sleep that was tugging at him. He tried to fight it, he really did, but then he heard Harry's breath deepen and saw his eyes were closed, tear tracks cooling on his cheeks.
He figured he could fall asleep for a few minutes, it couldn't be any later than 5.
When he woke it was dark, the bed was cold, and his could hear his phone ringing from his pile of clothes. He reached for it. His mom.
He cleared his throat before answering.
"Hello?"
"Louis? Where are you? What's the dinner plan?"
"The dinner plan…" he repeated. "Right, um.."
He trailed off because the door clicked and Harry peeked his head in. He'd showered, and Louis could tell his eyes were still puffy even though he'd pulled the hood of a big sweatshirt over his head. He looked worse for wear. Louis couldn't commit to leaving without talking to him first.
"Let's do it tomorrow? I'm in a suburb of Ann Arbor right now."
"Ann Arbor? Are you at Ethan's?"
"Yeah," he lied quickly, avoiding eye contact with Harry.
"Okay, sweetie. Let me know if you'll be home tonight. We can have cake with Christmas dinner tomorrow." She didn't sound disappointed.
"Sounds good."
"I love you, Lou."
"You too, mom."
He hung up with a sigh, checked the time. 7:20.
"Hi," he said meekly, finally looking up at Harry, still standing in the doorway. He couldn't read the expression on Harry's face.
"Hey," Harry moved into the room. "Everything okay?"
Harry sat on the edge of the bed. Louis pushed himself up on an elbow, rubbing sleep from his face and brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"I'm fine. I feel like I should be asking you that…" he said, trying to tread lightly.
Harry let out a breath and fell onto his back. He ran a hand over his face.
"I don't know." He turned to Louis. "It's your birthday, so no is a totally fine answer. But," he swallowed, searching for the words. "I kind of don't want to be alone right now?"
"Of course," he agreed immediately. "We could watch a movie or something?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Let's just not be in this bed. Are you hungry?"
"I could eat," Louis answered, choosing not to point out that they were currently in the bed.
"I can order us something."
An hour later, they were seated on opposite ends of the couch, both holding plates full of Chinese delivery. Louis had had the task of picking a movie, "It's your birthday," Harry had said. He'd chosen Ferris Bueller's Day Off because that's what he watched when he was sad. Anyway, Harry had seemed excited about it, he said he hadn't watched in years.
He was quiet throughout the movie, but Louis could see his mood lifting a little bit. He pointed out his favorite parts and seemed visibly lighter each time he joked. Louis had little knowledge about Harry's personality, or how he moved through the world outside of a bedroom at all, but he imagined he'd be beating himself up for a long time. He felt bad, but not exactly guilty.
When the credits began to roll, Harry reached for the remote. He turned the TV off and leaned back, disappearing a bit into the big leather couch.
"Thanks for suggesting that." There wasn't an overt emotionality to the statement, at least not that Louis could tell, but there might have been slight relief.
"Yeah. I love the parade scene. And the museum."
Silence fell over them for a moment, and Louis' eyes trailed to the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. Outside, snow was falling in quick, big clumps. Harry followed his gaze.
"You, uh, you don't have to go out in that. You can stay the night if you want." Harry was fidgeting with the edges of the blanket he'd wrapped himself in at some point during the movie.
Louis thought for a second. It looked miserable out there, and he really would prefer to stay in this warm house.
"If that's—if it's actually, truly okay with you," he said, continuing to be sensitive about the situation they'd found themselves in tonight. "I can take the couch."
Harry shrugged and nodded.
"It's okay with me. And we can share my bed, I think I've already done the worst damage I could do today." He let out a wry attempt at a laugh. "We'll just…wear pajamas."
Louis helped Harry straighten up a bit downstairs before following him upstairs. Harry passed Louis pajama pants and an old high school band t-shirt. They changed with their backs to each other, an odd nicety, considering what they'd done earlier.
"I didn't know you were in band in high school," Louis said, pointing to the shirt he was wearing now.
Harry was settling into bed and lifted the blanket for Louis as an offering.
"Yeah. Just bass drum," he paused like he remembered something. "You were, like, captain of the swim team, right?"
Louis' cheeks flushed a bit that Harry remembered that. He loved swimming, but had never considered himself much of a jock, even though he'd been selected as captain his sophomore year. He could have continued his swimming career in college, but he was afraid it'd stop being precious to him.
"I was. I can't believe you remember that."
"You never know who's paying attention to you," Harry said quietly. Before Louis could reply, Harry followed that bizarre admission with, "Good night, Louis."
"Good night, Harry."
Louis settled into a comfortable sleeping position that left an appropriate amount of space between him and Harry, while still benefiting from the warmth of his body. He wasn't quite tired enough to drift off easily, but he forced himself.
❆
Louis woke again without Harry the next morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, orienting himself to the unfamiliar room. He spotted a yellow sticky note on the side table.
Gone on a run, back soon. Plugged your phone in. - H
p.s. Merry Christmas
Indeed, his phone was beside the note. It must have died last night, and the note must be relatively new, because it was only charged to 24%. He scrolled through birthday wishes from yesterday and replied with polite thank-yous. It was only 6 am, so he didn't need to worry about getting home just yet.
He knew exactly one person who would be awake at this hour.
Haley was studying abroad in London this semester, and her family had come to her for the holidays. She'd be back in New York for the last semester of their senior year soon, and Louis was counting down the days. She answered the FaceTime call on the second ring.
"Louis! Merry Christmas!" Her voice was bright as if they hadn't spoken in years—it'd been since yesterday morning.
"Merry Christmas! How's it going there?"
"We're having a lot of fun," she said smiling. "I wish you could have come, though."
Louis had been invited to Christmas in London, but no matter how many times he did the math, he just couldn't swing it.
"One day," he lamented, shifting to a more comfortable position. The headboard of the bed came into view.
Haley leaned in, analyzing Louis' surroundings. "Hey, where the hell are you? If you travelled anywhere besides London or Michigan for Christmas, I will literally kill you."
Louis chuckled. This was part of the reason he'd called her. She was the only person in the world he'd told about his hometown hookup. Still, he flushed a little while gathering the words.
"I'm, uh, I'm in Harry's bed."
"Shut the fuck up," she said, slurring her words together excitedly. "You are not, where is he? What happened? You have to tell me everything. Starting with his last name."
"Calm down, calm down," Louis peeked out the window, making sure Harry wasn't anywhere near the house. "He's on a run. But we, oh god, we did something bad."
"Don't you always?" she asked, waggling a brow suggestively.
"No, uh, not like this." Louis sucked in a breath, ripping the band-aid off. "He has a boyfriend, apparently."
Haley gasped. "But you still…"
"Mhm." Louis nodded slowly. "Then he got all weird, started crying, we napped, and he asked me to stay the night. Nothing else happened, we didn't even cuddle or anything. But I just woke up and he'd already left for his morning run, evidently."
He held up the sticky note.
"Oh, he has nice handwriting," she commented.
"Haley. Focus. Tell me I'm a bad person and should leave."
"Louis. You're not. Harry's the responsible party, anyway."
"I guess."
"Now, about that last name…"
Louis had historically kept Harry's last name to himself when discussing him with Haley. She wanted to find him online so bad, and something about that just made him nervous. He didn't know whether it was curiosity about Ian, the way they'd fucked yesterday, or just how tired he was, but he relented.
"Don't make me regret this. It's Styles."
"Styles? You're lying. Harry Styles, that's ridiculous. That's like, a famous person name. Is he famous?"
He didn't bother answering her question, he could tell she'd already swiped out of the FaceTime and over to some social media app, Instagram, if he had to guess.
She gasped. "Louis, you're fucking lying." Haley covered her mouth. "This is like, one of the sexiest men I've ever seen."
"Alright, well, he's gay and spoken for."
"Not too spoken for, I guess," she said with a half smile. "Oh, this must be him. Ian, is that his boyfriend's name?"
Now Louis was intrigued. "Yeah, Ian. Does he have an account?"
"Um, yeah, he does." Haley paused. "He's only got two photos on here. One selfie and one picture with Harry. Louis, he's like, old."
"How old?"
"Honestly, he looks forty. Bio says he works in fin-tech."
His phone buzzed, Haley had texted screenshots. Louis opened them, zooming in shamelessly. Ian was gorgeous, of course. And yes, he was probably around forty. One photo was a selfie, posted a few years ago. He was seated at a table on a balcony, seemingly somewhere Mediterranean. Ian was shirtless, had a blank expression, and tidy brown hair. Cards, cocktail glasses, and European cigarettes were strewn across the table behind him, evidence of a fun night. The caption was simple - "hi instagram."
Then there was nothing for three years, until he'd posted him and Harry two weeks ago. It was a photobooth picture from a work holiday party. Harry had his face tucked into Ian's neck, a tipsy smile tugging at his lips. Ian was grinning widely. He had manicured stubble here, dark with gray flecks. They were a beautiful couple, because of course they were. No caption on this one, just a light pink heart emoji.
Louis felt a pang of jealousy, or guilt, or something unnamable. Then he looked at the photo again, remembering what Harry had admitted yesterday.
No one can fuck me like you. I look forward to this every year. I couldn't skip you.
"Louis? You're quiet over there," Haley piped up.
"Oh, yeah, sorry, just looking at the photos." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I should probably go anyway, Harry'll be back soon I bet."
"Okay," Haley said, drawing the word out. "I'll see you soon, Lou. Merry Christmas again!"
"Yeah, you too. I can't wait for you to come home."
Louis set his phone down and stood from the bed. He stripped out of the pajamas he'd borrowed, tossing them in the hamper in the corner of the room. Louis put his jeans and sweater from yesterday back on. As if he'd arrived on cue, Louis heard the front door slam shut downstairs. He grabbed his phone and did a quick scan for any other belongings. When he saw nothing, he reached for the door handle and ventured downstairs.
Harry was, fuck, Harry was leaning against the counter, sweating through a long-sleeved exercise shirt and downing a glass of water. He acknowledged Louis with raised brows and drew the cup away, setting it on the kitchen island in front of him.
"Morning, Merry Christmas," Harry said it like they spent every Christmas together. Which, in a way he guessed they did, but not this late into the morning.
"Merry Christmas. You went for a run out there?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Helps me clear my head."
"Uh-huh," Louis replied, not really wanting to carry that particular train of discussion out any further. "Well, I'll get out of your hair."
Louis began to walk towards the front door, where his coat still hung from the afternoon before, when he'd agreed to come inside for "just a minute." Surely, he'd worn out his welcome.
Harry didn't seem to think so, and he surprised Louis the way he pushed. "It's no trouble. I can make coffee."
Louis turned and made eye contact with him. Harry wore the same eager expression Louis got to see at least once a year.
"Thanks, Harry," he said, trying to keep it light. "But it's really okay. I have three siblings at home waiting for me so we can open presents."
"Makes sense."
Louis couldn't tell if the bit of disappointment he heard in Harry's voice was imagined or not. Didn't matter much, he was already slipping his boots on. Louis stood up, unsure how to say goodbye, unsure if that's what they'd done yesterday or not.
He went with, "I guess I'll see you around?"
Harry nodded, rocking back on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back. "Yeah, uh." Harry sighed and shook his head, stepping towards Louis. He unclasped his hands and enveloped Louis in a sweaty hug. "See you around, Louis."
Before Harry let him go completely, he gave Louis a small peck on the cheek.
༄ ⋆⁺₊❅.
December 24 - Year 6
Louis was awoken by an off-tune chorus of his entire family singing Happy Birthday to him. They were standing in the doorway, his mom front and center, holding a cake with lit candles. She began walking towards him as the song was coming to a close, and though he was in no mood for it, he sat up and blew them out.
Everyone had been treating him like a charity case. It was getting old. And so was he, here, in Michigan, living in his parents' house. He hadn't been able to find a steady job in New York, not that he'd expected to, and he'd been home since June, applying to every position at every newspaper in the Midwest.
Still, he played the part of the perfect son. He sat up in bed, accepting hugs from each of his sisters and talking about what they'd be doing that day.
Eventually, his mom said, "Well, breakfast is getting cold downstairs. Let's give Louis a moment to wake up before he joins us."
They filed out of his room and Louis immediately reached for his phone. Nothing from Harry. He wasn't sure what to expect after last year, but the radio silence still felt bizarre.
Louis didn't get up immediately, though the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs was compelling. Instead, he let his eyes travel around his room. It was full of too much stuff now. His life from Michigan, all swim trophies and yearbooks and other meaningless junk one accumulates before going off into the world.
There were his New York boxes, some still half unpacked. Proof of a collegiate life he felt he'd lived long ago. An I <3 NY sweatshirt his mom had insisted on buying him when he'd moved in was strewn over the edge of one of the open boxes. He sighed and brought himself to his feet.
Breakfast was fine, it didn't feel extra special because it was his birthday or anything. His dad asked again about job applications he'd already updated him on three times this week. His parents promised him he'd find something.
There wasn't really a movie he wanted to see, but there are a limited number of things one can do to celebrate a Christmas Eve birthday. So Louis and his family found themselves at the theater in the early afternoon, with tickets to something animated and family-friendly, a predictable 2 pm matinee.
Louis excused himself to the bathroom partway through, finding his phone and Harry's contact.
Louis: you in town?
He powered his phone down before reentering the theater, slipping the brick into the back pocket of his jeans and straightening his shoulders.
The rest of the day passed, they ordered in food and cut cake and sang again and Louis was curled in bed by the time his phone buzzed.
Harry: hi birthday boy
Harry: i'm in greece lol
Louis' eyes widened, certainly not the response he'd been expecting from Harry.
Louis: greece???
Harry: yeah ian surprised me and my mom. we're in athens rn
He thought of Harry somewhere sun-drenched and ancient and impossibly far. Of course Ian had taken him there. He chewed his lip and tried something a bit risky.
Louis: wow guess i'll forgive you for not sending a birthday wish
Harry: hey
Harry: i did think about you. swear
Thought about him. How much, exactly, could a person think while lounging on a beach chair or exploring some ancient ruin? How much could one think about a pathetic hometown hookup who was waiting at their beck and call?
Louis put his phone on the nightstand and took care of his arousal on his own. Definitely not picturing Harry in tight swim trunks, or anything like that.