“I’ve missed this,” Harry whispers like it’s a big revelation, interrupting Louis mid-sentence, and he lowers the book he was holding without even noticing he’s doing it, letting it rest on Harry’s back. They’re tangled in bed together, Harry’s long body resting on Louis’, his face hiding in Louis’ neck, the tickles of his breaths sending shivers down Louis’ spine.
“Have ya?” Louis says, a bit teasing, even though they’ve said as much to each other multiple times in the past few days since Harry’s been back on the island. He passes the hand not holding the novel through Harry’s hair, fingers tangling in his curls a hint possessively before curling softly around the back of Harry’s neck, cupping it gently.
“Yeah,” Harry nods against Louis’ shoulder, his nose rubbing on the wool of Louis’ jumper. Then, he shifts slightly, branding the skin of Louis’ neck with a small kiss.
Clifford is sleeping somewhere at their feet, the weight of both of his boys heavy on Louis’ legs but he wouldn’t change it for the world, would stay right here, immobile, for the rest of his life if it means he gets to keep this.
Louis frowns slightly at the thought. He does though, he reminds himself once more. He gets to keep this, no matter how surreal it still feels to think so. And how lucky he is too, how lucky they both are.
“I…” Harry begins again after a few seconds, slow, hesitant. “I.. uh…” He clears his throat, laughs a little self-deprecatingly, and after everything they’ve said to each other, everything they’ve confessed ever since Harry’s romantic novel worthy reappearance, it feels slightly out of place for him to sound so shy.
“What is it?” Louis asks but Harry just shakes his head and with the way he’s lying over Louis’ body, curled into his neck, they can’t see each other’s faces. “No, come on, what is it?” he insists with a small laugh of his own, Harry’s contagious even when he sounds a bit awkward. “You can tell me things.”
“I’ve told you enough already,” Harry scolds.
“Pff, you sound like I force you to share all your embarrassing secrets.”
“Well you do,” Harry replies. “With the face and the eyes, how am I supposed to resist? I’m only human.” He whines it all into Louis’ neck, sounding petulant but thoroughly charmed, and Louis can’t help the flush of pleasure blossoming on his face.
“Too pretty, am I?” Louis says sarcastically, not even fishing for compliments, but Harry lifts his head and meets Louis’ eyes, his wide and sincere.
“Devastatingly so,” he says firmly before leaning down. They kiss for a while, long enough for Louis’ grip on the book they’d been reading to slacken and the novel to tumble down from Harry’s back, landing in a thud on the floor. Long enough for Louis to slide his hand under Harry’s henley and feel the way his muscles shift. Long enough for it to go from molten to sizzling.
“Don’t,” Louis starts between kisses, “think that making out with me,” he continues, “is going to make me forget you have something embarrassing to tell me.”
Harry leans away with a small chuckle, shaking his head. At himself, or at his boyfriend, Louis can’t tell.
“It’s… it’s daft,” he admits.
“I missed you so much I slept in your unwashed bedding which, to be honest, isn’t the most hygienic, so I’m pretty sure I’m the king of daft.”
“I love you,” Harry says, just like that, unprompted, and fuck, will Louis ever get used to that? The way he can just… say it now, like it’s a fact of life? Like it doesn’t shift the Earth’s axis and rearrange the entirety of the cosmos for him to say so.
“If that’s the only requirement for you to fall in love with anyone, I’m sure many of your fans would be ready to commit to the same unsanitary behaviour. Just put an ad on Twitter or something, they’ll come flocking.”
“So much,” Harry continues instead of interacting with Louis’ nonsense. He’s smiling, a twinkle in his eyes, a dimple in his left cheek as he grins a bit lopsided at him. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Speaking of your dirty sheets, I’m thinking I’ve made a mistake in washing them. I could have renamed the room the post-coital Harry Styles Experience™ and charged so much money for it.”
Louis regrets the joke as soon as it’s out, knows Harry’s had to deal with creepy shit like that and it’s nothing that should be mocked. Thankfully, he’s still smiling down at Louis in the same soft way, focused and scrutinising without making him uncomfortable with his gaze.
“How about I sign some shit in the room instead, something that you can display, and you don’t give a name to only one of the b&b’s rooms because that’d be really weird and would make me feel awkward?”
“I wasn’t –” Louis starts but Harry is quick to interrupt.
“Angling to make money off my name?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows. “I know that. Obviously. But people are gonna have to get used to me being here when I’m not touring or recording anyway, so…” He shrugs.
He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s not even a question, and Louis can see the way their lives stretch beyond the horizon with more clarity than ever before: the two of them together here, Harry coming home as often as possible, cooking for guests and helping them sign out, carrying luggage up and down the stairs with Clifford on his heels. Harry’s carved himself a place here and he’s come to stay.
Louis swallows. Hard. “Right,” he whispers.
“I used to listen to audiobooks, while I was away, and pretend it was you reading to me.”
Louis’ eyes widen. “W-what?”
“That’s the daft thing I was gonna say. There were… a lot of things that I missed about this place, you and Cliff most of all. But you reading to me? That’s what I wanted the most. It’s silly, I know, but… I don’t know. It’s very soothing. And I just wanted to hear your voice. I thought the audiobooks might help.”
“You could have called me.” Louis lets it slip without meaning to. He never really planned to ask about this, but it’s out in the world now and it’s not like they can tiptoe around it forever.
“I…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I was trying to do it by myself. I was trying to let you go. I didn’t want to be a burden. The annoying pop star on the phone who won’t leave you alone, I… Fuck, I don’t know. I think part of me knew if I called, I’d end up on the first plane back. And I really wanted to finish the album, even if a frighteningly large part of me just didn’t give a fuck and wanted to see you.”
Louis hums, rubbing circles into Harry’s lower back. “Did they help? The audiobooks?”
“No,” Harry says with a small laugh. “Even the British narrators didn’t sound right. None of them did the voices as good as you do.”
Louis exhales, a tenderness he can’t put words to filling his lungs. “Quite right too,” he says, bit strangled. He swallows. “I’m a big brother, I was born to do the voices properly.”
Harry hums in agreement, eyelids fluttering for a second before he lowers his face into Louis’ neck again, their bodies perfectly tangled together.
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