Archive of Our Own

Harry was incidentally the first and last to see his new baby. He was the first because Louis took pictures and texted them to Harry, sending along a “thinking about adopting – agreed?” when he decided to buy the car. Harry texted back “beautiful baby girl; does she have a name yet?”, true to form. He was the last because, well, they were all at home at the moment and while Niall’d been staying with Liam for a day or two and came to look at the car with Liam and Zayn before going home, Harry’d had family obligations. They’d spent the past few days texting each other ridiculous things (“Will you take me for a spin?” – “Only if you promise to be my pit babe ;)” and “Your niece is dying to meet you” – “Give her a kiss for me, will you?”) and Louis’d been getting a bit tired of missing Harry this much. He thought he probably shouldn’t, best mate or not. It couldn’t be normal, the way he couldn’t wait to push Harry in his car and take him away.

So when Stan suggested they take the train to Manchester, to go visit some friends and maybe stay over night, he raised an eyebrow and told him to get into the car. The thought that Holmes Chapel was even closer to Manchester than to Doncaster had absolutely nothing to do with that, he told himself. It was a warm, sunny day and Louis revelled in the top-down radio-on drive. It may have been slightly ridiculous to buy himself that car but it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it and he knew he was going to love it for years to come. It was after all the car he’d coveted for years now.

In Manchester, they met up with Stan’s friends – who had been made aware of Louis’ status and sworn to secrecy beforehand, not that they seemed at all bothered – and spent the day loitering about the city’s main streets and parks, enjoying each other’s company and the weather. They should really take more time off, Louis thought to himself idly, knowing at the same time that he’d go stir-crazy if they actually did.

At some point the day melted away into evening and plans for the night were made. Louis decided it must have been a bit of fate really, but just as Stan asked him if he wanted to stay with them or head back home and Louis was about to commit to staying, a familiar head of dark, sleek hair passed him by.

“Just a second,” he addressed Stan and got up off the grass, jogging after the girl.

“Gemma!” he called out and she turned around, a little confused, until her eyes settled on Louis.

“Louis! What are you doing here?”

“Hanging with a couple of Stan’s friends. How ‘bout you?”

“Took a day to myself and went shopping,” she grinned, pulling up the various little bags she carried in her one hand.

“What and Harry didn’t tag along?” That boy could shop with the best of them.

“A day to myself, Louis. Much as I love my little brother, sometimes a girl needs to breathe Harry-free air,” she grinned and he just laughed. Being “blessed” with various younger siblings, he understood only too well what she meant.

“So, where are you headed?” he asked.

“Train station and back home,” she explained, jerking her head quickly in the direction she’d been walking in before he’d stopped her.

“Oh, forget about that, it’ll take you forever. I’m driving you.”

“What? No, Louis, I couldn’t-”

“Yes, you can. You’re my best friend’s sister and I just bought a new car. Let me show off a bit,” he interrupted her and took her bags from her. She threw her head back and laughed, very much like Harry did, only quite a bit higher.

“I think one Stylinson couple is quite enough, don’t you?” she winked at him and fell into step beside him.

“No, I didn’t… I mean, I don’t-” he rushed to explain, tripping over his words. She laughed again, the glee in her voice sounding exactly like it did in her brother’s.

“Relax, I know that. I was just teasing you,” she grinned and ruffled his hair the way she did Harry’s when she wanted to bother him. He just ran a hand through it and shook it out, stepping up to Stan and his group of friends.

“People, this is Gemma, Harry’s sister. Gemma, people I know,” he vaguely introduced them. Gemma smiled and waved.

“I’ll be driving her home. No need to wait up for me or anything. I’m undecided,” he informed Stan, whose lips split into a far too knowing grin.

“Sure thing. See you, man,” he acknowledged and a murmur of goodbyes ran through the group until Louis and Gemma turned away.

“Harry’ll be furious that I got to ride in your car before he did,” Gemma grinned and Louis let out a laugh.

“He’ll live,” he grinned back. They idly chatted the stroll to his car away. Gemma showed herself suitably impressed by it, calling it “pretty – not that I know anything about cars”. Louis shrugged it off. He didn’t expect people to wax lyrically about it, just because he really liked it. Gemma gave simple directions and otherwise they spent the roughly 40 minute drive with easy chit-chat. At some point Gemma had called home to alert her mother to the guest she’d be bringing and specifically requested she not tell Harry. Louis laughed quietly to himself and concentrated on the darkening surroundings while Gemma quickly relayed the story of their bumping into each other to Anne.

In the dark, Holmes Chapel took on a slightly less picturesque and slightly more dead look and Gemma must have read it on his face, as she laughed and said,

“Try growing up here.”

“No, thank you,” Louis quipped back, following the streets to the Styles’ home easily. It was strange really. He hadn’t been here that much, but he felt like he could probably find his way around the entire… village? easily enough. Well, to be fair, it really wasn’t all that big.

He pulled up into the driveway behind Anne’s car and brought the top back up before pulling the key out of the ignition, smiling over at Gemma who looked at him a little like she looked at Harry sometimes. You’d think Harry was enough of a brother for her, but then again, it really was quite inevitable for them to grow closer with how close he was to Harry and how close their mums were as well. She probably couldn’t help looking at younger boys at least a little like younger brothers the same way he couldn’t help looking at younger girls like younger sisters. Then again, he wasn’t that much younger than her.

She broke eye contact first, getting out of the car and stretching a bit, before reaching for the bags she’d put down between her feet. Louis himself stretched his legs a bit and checked the door handle to see if he’d really locked the car – he was a bit paranoid about that maybe – before following her up to the door.

Gemma put a finger over her lips, looking at him strictly, as they toed their shoes off, the sounds of Harry and Anne puttering about in the kitchen spilling out towards them.

“Hey, H!” Gemma called, stepping into the house further, but not bothering to wait until she was close enough to talk in a normal voice.

“What?” Harry yelled back, not bothering to come meet them either.

“I brought you something back from Manchester!”

“What is it?”

“Your husband,” Gemma grinned, leaning against the doorframe and Louis rolled his eyes, exasperated. One would think that joke would get old for the older Stylinson women at some point, but apparently that point was not going to be reached any time soon. The look Harry turned to give Gemma said about the same, but then his eyes settled on Louis standing behind Gemma and his expression visibly perked up.

“God, you two are ridiculous,” Gemma laughed, stepping into the kitchen to kiss her mother on the cheek in greeting. Harry put down whatever he’d been handling and shoved her in the shoulder as he passed her on the way to pull Louis into a hug.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Ran into Gemma in Manchester and thought I’d drop her off,” Louis explained, smiling.

“I hope you don’t think you’re leaving, because then you’ll be very disappointed to find you’ll be staying for dinner and the night if I can persuade you not to drive,” Anne cut in and turned to smile at Louis.

“Gemma’s phone call sort of clued me in,” Louis granted.

“Just give him enough wine, then he won’t be able to drive,” Gemma suggested with a wicked grin, eliciting laughs from the other three.

“Who raised you, young lady?” Anne mock-complained as Gemma grabbed a few plates and headed for the dining room.

“You did,” she called over her shoulder. Louis decided to follow her and help set the table. Maybe it should have been weird, to feel so at home with people he’d met not even a year ago, but instead of pondering over it, he’d rather enjoy what it was.

“So, will you take me for a spin?” Harry asked, carrying in a bowl of salad and setting it down on the table.

“Not tonight,” Anne immediately decided, shooting Harry a stern look that killed all protest that had clearly been forming in his head before it could even leave his mouth.

“Tomorrow,” Louis promised and pulled out a chair for Anne to sit with far too much flourish. Harry pointedly sat down himself and he must have hooked his foot into the leg of the chair Gemma had just pulled out, because the chair gave a sudden lurch when she sat down, causing her to almost fall off it.

“Harry,” his mother warned and Harry rolled his eyes, but shot a smile at Louis across the table, who couldn’t help but smile back. The classics were classics for a reason after all.

“Stop flirting and hand me the water, Hazzhead,” Gemma demanded and soon they all joined into easy conversation. Dinner with the Styles, while not really calm, was definitely an entirely different experience from dinner at home and sometimes Louis found himself wondering why his parents gave the opportunity for this up. He loved his sisters to death, but they could be damn exhausting sometimes. The evening passed quickly enough and before long, Louis found himself curled up under a blanket on his customary side of Harry’s queen-sized bed, wishing him a good night and looking forward to the next day.

When Louis blinked sleepy eyes open, he expected it to be a good while into the morning, but instead it wasn’t even light out yet. Rubbing at his eyes a little and not bothering to hide a yawn, he let his gaze drift around the room, momentarily a little disoriented, until he spotted the suitcase in the corner and it clicked in his head. Harry’s room. Right. No more Sweden. Back home. Only not entirely home.

Harry gave a little noise somewhere in between a snort, a gurgle and a sniff and jerked in his sleep and Louis quickly pressed a hand against his mouth to keep his giggles in, holding his breath and swallowing. He didn’t dare move for a good few seconds, but Harry’s breathing returned back to normal, his face pressed into the pillow. There were creases pressed into his other cheek, so he must’ve turned recently. Maybe that was what had woken Louis up? He lowered his hands and started breathing again, staring at Harry’s sleep rumpled face. Home away from home, something whispered in his head and he blinked it away, turning his gaze to the windows. It was probably still pretty early, but there was never an excuse to be quite this cheesy.

He felt surprisingly awake and a rush of energy coursed through him, making his muscles tense up. He felt giddy all of a sudden and when he saw that the horizon was starting to light up, he got an idea. Turning back to Harry, he reached out a hand and only hesitated for a moment before putting it on his shoulder and shaking him awake.

“Harry,” he whispered harshly. He didn’t want to wake anyone else after all. Harry showed absolutely no signs of having heard him or felt the shaking.

“Harry! C’m on, you, wake up,” he tried again and took to tickling him below his ear instead of shaking his shoulder. Harry jerked a bit, but seemed to cling stubbornly to sleep.

“Come on, I don’t want to lick my finger and stick it in your ear, but I will,” he threatened and pinched Harry’s nose. That finally seemed to be enough of a nuisance and Harry jerked his head back and his eyelashes fluttered like skittish horses before settling and allowing Harry to look at Louis blearily, but still accusingly.

“What?” he complained, sounding about as pitiful as he looked, with his curls sticking up everywhere, the pillow creases still pressed into his face and seeming to barely have the strength to keep himself up on his underarms.

“Get dressed, we’re going out. How far is it to the National Park?”

“’Bout a half hour,” Harry answered automatically, before his brain caught up with the rest of the sentence. “Wait, you want to go now?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s not even light out yet!”

“Exactly! We’ll go see the sunrise. Come on! Where’s your sense of adventure, Styles?” Louis prompted. He couldn’t bear the thought of going back to sleep now and he knew he only had to motivate Harry sufficiently to get him to come along.

“Asleep! Where I should be too!” Harry protested, flopping back down onto the mattress.

“No, come on, Hazza. You promised to be my pit babe!” Louis grinned, returning to shaking Harry slightly. The younger boy groaned in annoyance, but stretched, his muscles shaking under Louis’ hand and pushed himself upright.

“If this sucks, I’m blaming you for my grumpiness for the rest of the day.”

“You may,” Louis granted and threw the blanket off with far too much vigour for Harry’s liking, immediately scrabbling around for his clothes. Harry found the world had stopped swaying by the time Louis was already finished dressing.

“Hurry up, will you?” Louis whisper-laughed.

“I am hurrying,” Harry assured, yawning and crawling out of bed, most of his concentration focussed on not falling out of bed. He hated getting up early. He always said how his head needed at least half an hour before he was completely settled in the world of the waking. Louis leaned against the wall, watching as Harry dragged himself over to his closet.

“Are you gonna be long?” Louis asked.

“No?” Harry half-answered, half-asked.

“Okay. Then I’ll use the loo and wait outside. I can’t-”

“Sit still?” Harry guessed, the smile already audible in his voice. Ha! Success, Louis thought. If Harry was smiling and he could guess from the tone of his voice, he was definitely getting over his tiredness.

“Yeah,” Louis admitted.

“Just try and be quiet. I’ll be right there.”

“I’m insulted.”

“Just go!” Harry urged, shooting Louis, who was grinning, a look over his shoulder. Louis winked at Harry and then crept out the room, keeping his promise and moving through the silent house as quietly as he could. The bathroom, luckily, was pretty far from Harry’s sister’s and his mother’s bedrooms. In their house, it was right next to his parents’ and had instilled a certain kind of paranoia about how loud the flush of a toilet sounded in the middle of the night. Tiptoeing out into the hall, he slipped into his jacket and shoes, wondering for a moment how he was supposed to get out of the house without a key. But there was one in the lock, so Louis twisted it and as he pulled open the door for one ridiculous moment wondered whether there would be an alarm that he didn’t know about. There wasn’t.

He stepped outside and quietly pulled the door shut behind him, taking a deep breath of the very early morning air. The horizon was a little grey by now and it wasn’t entirely dark anymore, but the street lights were still on and it was a while yet till the sun would really rise. Strolling over to his baby, Louis let his gaze wander upwards, smiling at the many more stars one could see out here than back home. A few birds were already chirping away and it messed with Louis’ head a bit, still being stuck in the “it’s night” mindset.

The sound of the door clicking shut brought his gaze back down to ground level, where Harry was locking up the front door, decked in darkish trousers and a dark jacket that Louis didn’t recognize. That boy really liked his shopping... As Harry swaggered closer, Louis could make out that he’d never seen the boots Harry was wearing before either. Come to think of it, Harry didn’t usually wear jeans that skinny or that low slung either – well, not the ones that were supposed to sit that low on his hips. The grey v-neck’s collar was pulled even lower by his pair of aviators and Louis was pretty sure that was the first leather jacket he’d seen Harry in since they’d met. And while that wasn’t even a year ago yet, they had spent about 90% of those months living together, so Louis thought he knew Harry quite well.

“Well?” Harry addressed him quietly and a lot more awake than before, spinning around his own axis, his arms stretched out, clearly showing off.

“Pit babe enough for you to take me for a ride?”

For a moment that felt like aeons to Louis but he hoped were actually just seconds or better yet fractions of seconds, he couldn’t do anything but stare, his head stuck somewhere between “Fuck yes”, “You’re always enough for me” and “What the fuck is happening?!”. Then he blinked himself out of it, swallowed and grinned at Harry.

“It’ll have to do. I was hoping for one of those mini dresses, you know?”

Harry sent him a look that very clearly stated he wasn’t impressed by that idea in the slightest, but casually strolled around to the passenger side anyway.

“They didn’t have any in my size,” he retorted and Louis laughed, remote opening the car and getting in, shaking his head. Harry was one of the few people he didn’t mind leaving the last word to. He automatically looked over at Harry getting in as well and, really, there had to be something wrong with his head today. Or maybe he wasn’t quite as awake yet as he thought, because the way Harry folded one long, slender leg into the car, before gracelessly falling into the seat and then pulling the other leg in, surely shouldn’t have looked so... enticing. And yet he found his breath going shallow for a moment.

“Um, so I thought we’d get coffee and something to eat at a petrol station on our way or something?” he said, mostly to distract himself.

“Coffee,” Harry repeated like it was the most heavenly word Louis had ever spoken and buckled his seatbelt.

“You’re easy to please,” Louis laughed, buckling his own seat belt and turning the key in the ignition. The feeling of how a car sprang to life just by the turn of a key felt ridiculously exciting every single time. Flicking the headlights on, Louis slowly backed out the drive way before looking at Harry expectantly. Harry just stared back for a moment, clearly confused.

“Oh, um, go left and then the first right and then follow the signs down onto A 54. Follow that to the park,” he then explained.

“Sounds easy enough.”

“I trust you can do it,” Harry intoned seriously, following it up with a cheeky grin.

“I don’t know if I can handle the pressure of your trust,” Louis questioned, turning down the road and following Harry’s instructions.

“Tough luck,” Harry shrugged. “You’re gonna have to.”

It shouldn’t have, after all Louis knew that Harry trusted him, but it still felt like somehow his heart had burst open and warm honey was running out of it, sticky and sweet and spreading into the farthest corners of his self.

“You okay?” Harry asked when he apparently stayed quiet a beat too long.

“Yeah, sure. Just overwhelmed by how sappy you are early in the morning,” Louis winked, babbling his way out of the situation without much conscious thought.

“Oh ha ha.” Harry rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window, absentmindedly running a hand through his fringe to sweep the curls out of his face. They were quiet for a while, Louis mostly concentrating on following the signs that pointed him through Holmes Chapel until Harry piped up again.

“How fast does it go anyway?”

“165 mph maximum,” Louis answered readily, the grin that split his face surely audible in his voice. Harry let out a delighted little laugh.

“Damn. Have you tried it?”

“Are you crazy? The speed limit’s 70, Harry! And anyway, 165 takes skill. You can’t just step on the pedal and zoom off.”

“But you’re tempted.”

“’Course I am. Wouldn’t’ve bought this car if I weren’t, would I?”

“We could rent a race track and you could try there,” Harry suggested. At that Louis had to laugh.

“Let’s sell an album first, eh?”

“Deal. If our first album goes to... gold, we’ll rent a race track and go celebratory driving.”

“You don’t even know how to drive!” Louis reminded him, shooting the younger boy an amused look.

“So? I can learn till then. So what do you say? Deal?”

“You’re being serious.”

“Obviously,” Harry laughed, like he couldn’t believe Louis was even thinking about this.

“Alright. If we go to gold, we’ll go race driving.”

“And if we don’t, I’ll take you anyway to cheer you up,” Harry grinned smugly and Louis couldn’t help but laugh.

“I have absolutely no say in this, do I?”

“Nope,” Harry confirmed, leaning back into the seat and stroking a long-fingered hand along the inside of the door and over the dashboard. Louis glued his eyes back onto the road and ignored how the image lingered in his mind.

“So, um, coffee?” Louis changed the topic, hoping the confusion in his head would settle once he’d get some caffeine in his system.

“Oh, I thought we’d get it in Buglawton, that’s the last ... town before we get to the park. It should stay warm till we’re there then. It’s only about ten minutes from the park.”

“Alright. You’re the local,” Louis shrugged. Harry let out an annoyed groan, reaching over to shove Louis’ shoulder playfully.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. It’s...”

“Picturesque. Yes, I know. It’s also bloody boring, believe me.”

“Like you didn’t spend as much time as you could in Manchester.”

“Well, what else would I be doing? Frolicking through the fields? Do I strike you as the type to frolic?”

Louis couldn’t help the snort of laughter at the images that caused to pop up before his mind’s eye.

“I’m sure you could pull off lederhosen.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry complained, but joined in Louis’ laughter. Harry cut himself off with an open-mouthed yawn that Louis did definitely not think of as adorable. Fuck, but he needed that caffeine.

“Oh, um, there’s three rotaries coming up. You’ll get off A54 onto A34 but just follow the signs back onto A54.”

“That’s not confusing at all,” Louis grinned, but slowed down approaching the first rotary, looking for the appropriate sign and activating the blinker out of habit before he left the rotary again, even though there had barely been two or three other cars they’d met so far.

“Oh, look, ‘Holmes Chapel Road’. You have a road.”

“I know.”

“Does it really go to Holmes Chapel?”

“Yeah, we’ve just been on – the second one,” Harry explained and then interrupted himself with pointing out the relevant exit.

“You didn’t think to mention that?” Louis mock-complained, shooting Harry a quick wink that got answered by a good-natured eyeroll.

“Concentrate on your driving, will you?” Harry answered with a long suffering sigh.

“Jeez, you’re bossy. I should tape this and call it ‘Driving Mr. Styles’.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a completely different premise.”

“Hush,” Louis commanded and Harry made a show of zipping up his mouth and staying quiet for a few minutes.

“Oh, you need to get off here, last stop for coffee,” he broke his self-imposed silence.

“Yes, sir,” Louis answered in clipped tones and would have added a salute, had he not needed both his hands, to shift down a few gears and steer the car through yet another rotary. Sometimes he did wonder how there could be so many but he still liked them better than regular intersections. There was far less stopping required.

“You know where we’re going?” Louis asked as they got into a vaguely more populated area.

“Um, vaguely, there should be... yep! Petrol station up ahead.” Louis ginned at Harry’s triumphant tone and pulled over onto the other side of the road, bringing the car to a stop next to the little buffet. Turning off the motor and pulling the key out of the ignition, Louis smiled at Harry briefly before getting out of the car, stretching his arms above his head even though they’d only been in the car for about 15 or 20 minutes. The air smelled of night and petrol and Louis felt a smile naturally pull at his lips. The giddy feeling from when he’d woken up had come back and he recognized it as feeling utterly free.

“Come on, my treat,” Harry said, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulling him into his body and along with him into the buffet. The bored looking girl in what Louis guessed to be mid-twenties behind the counter raised one eyebrow at them, but didn’t say anything and kept chewing on her bubble gum, so Louis guessed it was more for the arm Harry hadn’t removed from around his shoulders than that she had recognized them. Harry was already scanning the list of drinks mounted on the wall behind the counter, so Louis did the same.

“I’ll have a large latte and a sticky bun,” Harry ordered, shooting the girl a smile, who didn’t react but set about making the coffee.

“And a large Earl Grey and a chocolate croissant for me,” Louis added. While the girl puttered about making their drinks and putting the sticky bun and croissant into two little paper bags, Harry took his arm off Louis shoulders and fished a tenner out of his jeans pocket.

“You paying separate, or-?”

“No, all together,” Harry interrupted.

“That’ll be eight quid seventy then,” she announced and Harry put down the ten pound note on the counter, grabbing the two paper bags and the little tray with their drinks stacked in instead, balancing all three things in one hand before accepting his change.

“Have a good day,” the girl said and Louis couldn’t help pitying her.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling like “you too” would probably sound mocking to her. He followed Harry out the door, reaching for his tea. Harry stopped and waited for Louis to take his cup before walking on.

“You don’t have to carry that, you know?” he pointed out, gesturing at the bags Harry clutched in his fingers.

“It’s not that heavy,” Harry grinned, pushing the change into his jeans pocket and using the now free hand to take a drink of his coffee.

“Ah, caffeine...” Harry sighed happily and Louis chuckled.

“It’s not like you needed it. You’re already plenty awake.”

“It’s still tasty,” Harry shrugged and shot him a cheeky grin before taking another gulp from his cup, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down strangely hypnotic in the soft morning light. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but edged close enough to the horizon to make it a lot easier to make out colours and shapes and even shadows, like the one cast by the collar of Harry’s jacket.

“You’re staring,” Harry pointed out and Louis shook his head in reflex to get his thoughts back onto a normal track.

“Sorry. Got lost in my head.” Not a lie, technically.

“That must be a scary place to get lost in,” Harry teased and Louis nodded with a grave expression.

“Very scary.” Particularly this morning.

“Come on, let’s get going. Don’t want to miss the sunrise, do we?”

“Your wish is my command,” Louis acquiesced.

“Hey, this was your idea,” Harry pointed out and held out the tray for Louis to stick his drink back into before adding his own and walking around to the passenger side.

“Top down?” Louis asked as he turned the key in the ignition, Harry balancing the drinks between his legs and the two paper bags having been carefully propped up on the floor.

“You have to ask?” he commented as he buckled his seat belt. Louis grinned back and pointed at a twist dial above the middle of the windshield.

“Turn that all the way and then push,” he said and watched Harry lift a hand with a giddy smile, turning and pushing and watching the top recede slowly. He followed it with his gaze and turned his head around to watch it sink into the back, vanishing beneath the cover completely.

“Okay, that is cool,” he admitted, sounding begrudgingly impressed. Louis had to laugh at that.

“Driving it’s even cooler.”

“Oh, go on and brag. We can’t all be old and license-having like you.”

“Aw, no need to be jealous,” Louis grinned, shooting a look over at Harry and rolling up to the rotary that would take them back onto A54 and to the park. There were no cars around for miles and Louis had always been one to be impulsive, so he slowed to a stop and extended his left hand to Harry.

“Give me your right hand.”

“What?”

“Your right hand, give it,” Louis repeated and Harry looked at him strangely, but did as he was told, offering up his right hand.

“You’re supposed to be driving, not holding my hand.”

“I can do both at once,” Louis quipped, cupping Harry’s hand around the gear shift and his own on top of it.

“You need to go with what I do, though, okay? Stay loose,” Louis said and Harry let out an undignified snort, before turning his grinning face away for a moment, ostensibly to compose himself.

“I’m not even commenting on what you just did and said.”

Louis opened his mouth to protest, before his head caught up with what Harry meant and he rolled his eyes instead, hoping he wasn’t turning red as a prickly feeling crawled up his neck.

“Head out of the gutter, Styles, this is about driving, not sex.”

“Because there’s absolutely no relation between the two.”

“Are you always this insufferable? Oh, what am I saying, of course you are.”

For a moment nothing happened and they just stared at each other, their hands still both clasped around the gear shift. It was lucky it was still too early for traffic really.

“I thought you wanted to go see the sunrise?” Harry ventured eventually and Louis blinked himself out of his stupor.

“Right,” Louis said, gripping Harry’s hand and the gear shift beneath a little tighter – this was going to work, right? – and switching into first gear, and second, rolling around the rotary slowly, before turning out of it onto the open road and shooting Harry a quick grin.

“Here we go,” he announced before returning his gaze to the road and shifting into third, fourth, his feet pressing down into the pedals gently and with practiced ease – this wasn’t his favourite part of driving for nothing – Harry’s warm and dry hand underneath his and further into fifth, sixth in quick succession, the engine purring like a content kitten and a delighted but quiet laugh bubbling out of Harry as the head wind picked up with their speed and threw his curls around freely. Louis’ breath caught in his throat for a moment and he was glad that over the engine (no matter how quiet it was) and the wind, Harry wouldn’t be able to hear it. Giving Harry’s hand a squeeze, he let go of it and returned his own to the steering wheel (where, after all, it was supposed to be). He really had to get his head sorted out.

“Okay, that was fun,” Harry said in what Louis would call a ‘gushing’ tone of voice if he didn’t know that Harry would have his head for that. He just shot him a smile in return and Harry leaned his left elbow onto the car door and his head on his hand, occasionally running his hand through his hair, but mostly just letting the wind tumble it around, staring out at the landscape that zoomed by with a big smile on his face. Louis returned all his focus to the road and when they passed the “Welcome to Peak District National Park” sign, held a lookout for other signs that would direct them to a lookout point, where he could park the car. The sun had begun climbing the horizon and all in all Louis considered this morning a full success.

And then Harry threw his hands up and began singing.

“Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, the sunshine in,” he repeated over and over, laughter occasionally audible in his voice but relentless, grinning at Louis and raising his eyebrows in a ‘join me’ manner when Louis shot him a look and that sweet honey feeling came back and Louis found himself singing along. He followed a winding road up a hill and brought the car to a halt at the view point on top of it. Harry had lowered his hands by now, all the blood probably having rushed out of them and their singing had come to a natural stop. Harry turned to smile at him, every line of his face and his ridiculously ruffled curls looking like freedom and home and early mornings to Louis and the sweet honey feeling transformed into a heavy, sticky want and Louis didn’t dare move a muscle lest he lean over and kiss the smile off Harry’s lips.

“Tea?” Harry offered, holding up the cup, seemingly oblivious to Louis’ internal struggle that left him in a rush at the interruption of his thoughts.

“Thanks,” Louis said automatically, accepting the cup and unbuckling his seat belt before pocketing the key and getting out of the car, making a few steps to reign his mind back in. What the fuck had just happened?

“If I sit on the hood of your car, will you kill me?” Harry called over and Louis let out an involuntary laugh.

“No, but hold on a second,” he replied and walked to the back of the car to get the blanket he kept in there for situations like these. Joining Harry, he handed him his tea for a moment to spread the blanket over the hood. This served two purposes. For one, in case the hood had run hot – which he doubted after the short drive – it would offer one more layer to shield them from it and for another it separated the paint from possible rivets on their jeans.

“As long as we don’t bounce up and down it should be okay. The hood’s only aluminium, but we’re not that heavy,” he declared.

“You sure?” Harry checked.

“Yes, I am. However,” he said, tilting his head in contemplation, “I’m not entirely sure we won’t slide off.”

Harry regarded the slant of the hood for a moment before shrugging.

“We should just sit on the ground. That can take us and we can’t fall off it,” he decided. Louis only laughed, but pulled the blanked down in front of the car, so they could lean back against it. He plopped down onto it gracelessly himself, while Harry lowered himself onto his knees first, carefully balancing their drinks before sitting down and then setting the tray and the two paper bags down as well. When he reached for his boots, Louis interrupted him with a,

“You can put your shoes on the blanket. It’ll be dirty from the ground anyway. And I’ve already got my shoes on it too.”

“Okay,” Harry shrugged, scooting down further and leaning back onto one of his elbows, taking a swig of his coffee. Louis reached for his tea and found that it really was still warm. Sighing contently, he set the cup down between them, before reaching for the bags and peering inside to find his croissant, leaning back against the car and watching the sun rise in front of them. It wasn’t exactly unheard of for them to spend time in each other’s company in silence, although many maybe wouldn’t want to believe it, since it usually happened away from everyone else, like now. They’d actually always been great at the whole companionable silence thing and so the next whoever knew how many minutes passed with each of them letting their thoughts drift, enjoying their respective breakfasts and the awakening world around them.

“You win, this was a great idea,” Harry eventually sighed and shuffled further down to lie down on his back, turning his head to the side and tipping it back to smile at Louis.

“All my ideas are great,” Louis protested, but an answering smile played around his lips, happy that Harry didn’t regret getting out of bed for this.

“Right,” Harry snorted indelicately and broke off a piece off his sticky bun, pushing it between his lips. Louis had already finished off his croissant and had been debating drinking the rest of his tea because it would surely wash away the pleasantly chocolate-y taste the pastry had left in his mouth when his thoughts sort of stumbled off track as flashes of Harry’s hand running over the dashboard and the feel of it under his own on the gear shift overlapped with him licking honey off his fingertips and the sugary smell of the sticky bun. Louis swallowed heavily against the rush of want that crashed through his body just as it had before in the car. He found he didn’t even want to look away and his eyes remained glued to where Harry was breaking off pieces of his breakfast and feeding them to himself. Harry had put the sunglasses down next to himself, but the collar of his t-shirt was loose in Louis’ peripheral vision anyway, shadows dipping into the hollow of his throat and moving with the up and down motion of his Adam’s apple.

Harry mostly had his eyes closed or was looking around and from his vantage point he’d have to tip his head back to see Louis anyway, so he wasn’t worried about getting caught and that more than anything should have made him turn away. If this was something that Harry could catch him doing then this was something that he should be hiding and he didn’t need to ever hide anything from Harry except maybe that he sort of had an epic crush on him.

Wait, what?

No, no, no, no, this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. This was what others said to make fun of them. This was what he and Harry had rolled their eyes at for almost a year. This couldn’t actually be happening.

“Louis?” Harry tore him out of his thoughts again and Louis blinked down at him owlishly, terrified for a moment that he could read all of his thoughts written across his face.

“You’ve got a bit...” he pointed out, gesturing vaguely at Louis’ face before touching his finger to the corner of his own mouth. Louis absentmindedly wiped his finger over it, but apparently Harry wasn’t happy yet, as he sat back up, facing Louis this time.

“No, wait...” he trailed off and reached out his own hand to rub at the corner of Louis’ mouth, pulling his thumb away and inspecting both it and Louis’ face before he rubbed the chocolate off between his thumb and his finger. Louis found himself watching the motion of his fingers with a lot more interest than it warranted.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, putting the rest of his sticky bun down onto one of the paper bags before peering into Louis’ face curiously and with a little worry pulling his eyebrows closer together. Louis could feel himself shaking his head, almost a bit like in a trance because suddenly a whole lot of things started making sense (feeling at home wherever Harry was, missing Harry, not minding the husband jokes) and at the same time nothing at all made any sense anymore because this was Harry. Harry!

“What is it? Do you feel ill?” Harry probed, gripping one of Louis’ arms to hold him steady just in case, Louis guessed.

“No, nothing like... I... promise me you won’t be mad?” Louis asked because telling Harry seemed like the only possible outlet for this almost paralyzing pull he felt towards him.

“Why would I be mad?” Harry asked, completely bewildered.

“Just promise me?”

“I can’t promise that. But I promise I’ll forgive you, if there is anything to forgive,” Harry said instead and Louis vaguely registered the ‘so typical’ thrumming affectionately somewhere in the back of his mind. And then it was like he watched himself reach out a hand to cup the side of Harry’s face before leaning forward and pressing his lips against Harry’s in a shy kiss. Harry didn’t pull back, but he didn’t kiss back either and so they sort of froze like that, the pressure of their lips growing more awkward with each passing heartbeat, their eyes not even closed but instead locked onto the blurry patches of each other’s eyes. Harry blinked and Louis made to pull back, but in that moment, Harry’s grip on his arm tightened and his lips opened with a soft little sound. Louis backed off in surprise, not having expected Harry to react like that, but Harry followed him, leaning forward as if on instinct and uttered something that sounded suspiciously like a pleading “no”.

“Harry...” Louis breathed and dropped his hand from Harry’s face. Harry licked his lips and stared at him with round eyes and whispered,

“Just kiss me again.”

Louis blinked, taken aback in his surprise and hesitated a beat too long, Harry suddenly pulling his hand back from Louis’ arm as if burned and leaning back to put as much distance as possible between them without having to get up.

“Oh God, I’m so-” he started out, but Louis wouldn’t let him finish, surging forward onto his knees instead, capturing his mouth in another clumsy kiss.

“Louis?” Harry moved back to mumble against his lips, but Louis wound an arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

“Sh,” he tried to soothe Harry before sealing their lips together, letting his eyes slip shut. He sucked Harry’s bottom lip in between his own and Harry suddenly keened and melted against him. Louis pulled him closer, circling both arms around his waist and sitting back up, pulling Harry with him, who followed easily, looping his arms around his neck and shuffling forward until he came to sit astride his lap. At his prodding, Harry opened his mouth wider to Louis, letting his tongue delve into it and chase the taste of honey, cinnamon and coffee that clung to his lips and the smell of it that clung to the air around him. Harry made the softest little sounds as their tongues slid against each other and twirled around each other, his hands slipping up along the back of Louis’ neck to tangle in his hair.

“Harry,” he mumbled, Harry pressing kisses along his upper lip.

“Hm?” he muttered back, distracted.

“Nothing, just...”

“Then shut up,” Harry whispered before claiming his mouth again, pushing his whole body closer into Louis’, the taste of chocolate faint on his tongue and the smell of his cologne weakened and mixed with the smell of his car and of Harry’s mum’s detergent. He raised himself up on his knees, tipping Louis’ head back and sucked his tongue into his mouth, scraping his teeth along it like he was hoping to find something of Louis’ that he could take into himself and never give up again. Harry was kissing him like he was gasping for breath, all wide open mouth and deep, lingering sweeps of his tongue.

Louis tried to calm him down, stroking his palms down over his back under the heavy leather of his jacket, but over the thin cotton of his t-shirt, shortening their kisses and pecking him on the lips in between, but all it seemed to do was rile Harry up more. When Harry’s grip on his hair got to be a little more painful that Louis felt comfortable enduring and the noises he made sounded more and more like he was realizing he couldn’t possible climb inside Louis and despairing over it, Louis let his hands span his rib cage and pulled him away, watching as Harry blinked dazed eyes open to stare at him.

“Harry, relax,” he intoned softy, raising one hand to swipe away a bit of saliva that clung to his lips. Harry sucked the tip of his thumb into his mouth sharply, before Louis pulled it away, staring at Harry in a strange sort of curiosity.

“What’s gotten into you?” Louis asked, honestly bewildered.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” Harry rasped, his voice wavering a little, which, well... Harry’s voice didn’t waver. Even when he was nervous or even scared or just plain tired, his voice was always pretty sure.

“I... no,” Louis admitted, completely floored by the way Harry’s hands came forward to cradle his face, his thumbs brushing over his temples.

“You’re so... infuriatingly sexy,” Harry drawled and Louis could feel a blush creep up his cheeks. “You swagger through your life not even noticing the looks you get and when you do you think they’re the exception, not the rule.”

Louis opened his mouth to protest, but before he could even utter a single sound, Harry cut him off.

“No, shut up. If we’ve just screwed us up, let me at least tell you this.”

‘Nothing can screw us up,’ Louis wanted to say, but Harry cupped one of his large palms over his mouth to keep him silent and so Louis bit his lip and decided to wait Harry out.

“You constantly flirt with me and I know you just do it for a laugh, but I guess at some point I realized that I don’t. That I mean it. Every word of it. But you always back off just before it could actually mean something and I get that you’re not into me, but just.... how can you be so oblivious?”

Harry slumped backwards, like it was exhausting him to talk about this, but then he let go of Louis and spread his arms out, the morning sun glowing softly on one half of his face and neck.

“Pit babe, Louis!” he laughed, though it didn’t sound entirely like amusement. “You ask me to be your pit babe and this is what I do because I can’t help but hope that maybe ... that you...”

He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair before smiling at Louis.

“And then you kiss me. I don’t understand you. Just what am I supposed to think now?” he finally asked, heaving a sigh. Harry seemed to be done and for a few beats the silence stretched between them as Louis tried to take in everything Harry had just told him and everything his head had been pushing at him the entire morning.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he then blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth like he could push the words back in and tensing up immediately afterwards while Harry stared at him as if in shock. Neither of them said anything for several long heartbeats and Louis felt like if he took one wrong step here, everything around and between them could shatter into a million tiny pieces that he could never put back together right again.

“I think I have been for a while,” he added, lowering his hand and curling both of them into the fabric of his trousers.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But I only realized about ten minutes ago.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Harry chuckled, not unkindly.

“Hey!” Louis protested, reaching for one of Harry’s hands with one of his own. “You were my best friend first. I think I got a bit stuck on that.”

“It’s not like we need to give that up,” Harry reassured him, returning the light pressure of his hand. “We’re just adding to it.”

“Good, ‘cause I think Niall’d feel underappreciated if we suddenly stopped pranking him.”

“Can’t have that,” Harry agreed, eyes fixed onto Louis’ lips and crawling forward again into Louis’ lap.

“You don’t care, do you?”

“Not right now, no.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Louis teased, letting his arms settle comfortably around Harry anyway.

“’Cause you know me,” Harry answered, unperturbed. “Now can I kiss you again?”

“You can kiss me every day from now until forever,” Louis replied before wrinkling his nose and pulling back a little. “Sorry, that was incredibly cheesy. I don’t know where that came from.”

“Forever’s a really long time anyway. Let’s start a little lower, yeah?” Harry grinned back, pecking Louis’ lips.

“Millennia?” Louis suggested, grinning himself. Harry chose to pull at his upper lip with his teeth instead of answering the purely rhetorical question.

“Too long? How about centuries then? Or decades?” Louis went on, returning Harry’s pecks briefly before mumbling into his lips.

“God, Louis, shut up,” Harry complained, but there was no real heat in his words.

“You love when I talk nonsense.” A brief peck.

“Not when I’m trying to snog you.” Harry’s tongue in the corner of Louis’ mouth.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” Louis pulling at Harry’s lower lip with his teeth. “You’re doing it wrong, then.”

“Am I?” Harry challenged and Louis pressed his smirk into Harry’s cheek.

“You are,” he insisted, before pulling Harry close with one arm around his waist and leaning forward onto the other, laying Harry down onto his back and leaning over him. He pulled both his hands from around his neck and stretched them over his head, swooping down to claim Harry’s lips in a firm kiss that had him arching up against him a bit. Louis slid one of his knees in between Harry’s legs so he’d balance easier and opened Harry’s mouth up with his lips and tongue, pressing inside insistently. Harry moaned his appreciation, but wasn’t one to be outdone, sucking Louis’ tongue further inside his mouth and teasing it with swipes of his own.

This time, neither of them thought to stop their kiss or break away, choosing to breathe in short huffs through their noses. At some point Louis let go of Harry’s hands, slipping one under Harry’s head to pull him up by the back of his neck, making him tip his head back. He leaned on the forearm of his other hand, placing it above Harry’s head, moving up further and deepening their kiss. Harry groaned his approval at the way Louis practically engulfed him and ran his hands up his sides under his t-shirt, his fingertips drinking in the heat of Louis’ skin.

Pushing his hands into Harry’s hair and scratching at his scalp lightly proved to be a genius move as it made Harry sigh softly and somehow seemingly sink into the ground, pliant to the way Louis trailed kisses down over his chin and neck. He ran his tongue up all the way he’d just kissed down in a long swipe before teasingly biting his chin. Harry’s hands fell from where they had massaged the flesh over Louis’ shoulder blades to lie beside him and Louis removed his hands from their respective positions, whispering, “lift up” against Harry’s cheek and pushing the t-shirt he was wearing up when Harry complied so he could get his hands and mouth on the skin underneath it more easily.

Harry’s breath stuttered when Louis let his tongue dip into his navel, his hands resting lightly on the sides of his ribcage, feeling it expand and contract with every shaky breath Harry took. Not to hold him down, but to tell him to hold still. He trailed kisses up the middle of Harry’s chest, marvelling at how soft his skin was. When he pulled back a little to look up at Harry, who had his eyes closed and his lower lip trapped between his teeth, he could feel his own hot breath bounce off Harry’s skin and Harry’s nipples perk up at the contrast between the still cool morning air and Louis’ breath tickling him.

Louis wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity that so easily presented itself and ran the flat of his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before closing his lips around it, grazing it with his teeth and sucking on it a little. Harry gasped and his chest moved with the sharp intake of breath, making Louis grin against his skin.

“You’re really responsive,” Louis whispered, a little awed, and leaned back up to kiss Harry again, letting one of his hands come up to toy with Harry’s nipple instead.

“Can’t help it,” Harry whispered back into their kiss and Louis had to grin, pushing his other hand underneath Harry’s back, pulling him up against his body a bit and letting his hand rest low on his back, his fingertips just inside the waistband of his jeans.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he said, pushing his hand a little lower and teasingly pulling at the waist band of Harry’s underwear. “I think it’s hot.”

“God, Louis,” Harry moaned, pushing his hips up into Louis’, the hard outline of his cock prominent even through both their clothing.

“Oh, you’re really responsive,” Louis breathed, a bit surprised, but mostly giddy to see how far he could push Harry like this.

“Can I get you off like this?” he asked, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips. “Just by kissing and touching you?”

“Don’t know,” Harry answered, his fingers wrapping around as much of Louis’ biceps as they could, holding on to him as Louis started tracing a thumb around his nipple again. “No one’s ever tried.”

“What a waste,” Louis murmured, dipping his head down to kiss him deeply again, pushing his tongue into his mouth in short, quick jabs, the meaning of it not lost on Harry, who groaned and opened his mouth wider before trying to suck Louis’ tongue into his mouth and keep it there. Louis wasn’t having any of that though, evading Harry’s lips and tongue and teeth and instead instigating an increasingly heated battle of their tongues. Their breaths got more and more laboured and Louis found it more and more difficult to concentrate on what he was doing with his hands, pressing and rubbing at Harry’s nipple with one of them while he traced the other one up along his spine. Goosebumps broke out over Harry’s skin following the upward stroke of Louis’ hand and his back arched up wherever Louis happened to touch it.

Releasing Harry’s mouth, Louis latched onto the line of his jaw, nibbling along it and enjoying the vibrations of Harry’s groan that spread onto his lips over his skin. He let both of his hands roam over Harry’s chest, dragging his nails over the skin, tracing his fingers along the dips in between his ribs and the light outline of his abs, pulling and twisting at his nipples, Harry almost vibrating beneath him.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, his expression somewhere very close to pleading and his hands pulling at Louis’ arms. Louis acquiesced, letting himself be pulled up into another kiss. Harry tasted nothing like honey or cinnamon or coffee anymore, just like skin and lips and tongue and saliva and the thought that he did that, kissed every last bit of sugar and foreign taste off him, ran through Louis like a shiver, making him moan against Harry’s mouth. One of his thumbs kept flicking at a nipple, his weight supported on that arm, while the other hand trailed down Harry’s chest, diverting over a hipbone peeking out from his jeans. His fingers danced along the waistband for a few moments, toying with the button, before returning to his skin. Harry’s hips strained up into the touch and Louis stroked his palm down in between Harry’s legs firmly, squeezing his erection determinately. Harry’s hips jerked up into the touch and then shuddered back down onto the ground, the grip of his hands slackening and a moan running from Harry’s mouth directly into Louis’.

“Did you...?” he pulled back to ask, taking in Harry’s flushed face and swollen lips and glassy eyes. He only nodded a little, looking unsure of himself and ready to apologize, so Louis leaned down to press another peck to his lips.

“That really is hot,” he murmured.

Harry laughed a little breathlessly, carding a hand through Louis hair.

“Um... you...?” Harry asked, trailing off, but his meaning obvious to Louis.

“I’m good,” he answered, drawing a last kiss from Harry’s lips before sitting back up.

“So, um, other than this, what do we do now?” Louis questioned, one of his hands resting on Harry’s thigh, not wanting to give up contact completely yet.

“About us, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess we should tell the others?” Harry ventured, sitting up and running a hand through his slightly sweaty curls before pulling his t-shirt down again and slipping his jacket off. Louis couldn’t help the smug smile that pulled at his lips. Harry rolled his eyes at him, but from the way he ducked his head, Louis could easily infer that he was the reason Harry needed to cool off a bit.

“Yeah, I guess. But no public yet, okay?”

“Absolutely,” Harry immediately agreed. For a moment, silence stretched between them. Glancing at the sun, Louis would assume it wasn’t too late yet, just early morning. Seven at the latest.

“If we go back now, we could still catch an hour or two of sleep,” he suggested.

“You are just full of good ideas today,” Harry commented teasingly, pressing a placating, if somewhat sloppy, kiss to Louis’ cheek and collecting their cups and paper bags, sticking the rest of his sticky bun in between his teeth before getting up and walking over to the trash can to get rid of the bags and cups. Louis took it on himself to shake out the blanket and put it back into the boot of the car, turning to watch Harry stride up towards him, the aviators now perched on his nose. Now that he let himself appreciate it openly, he was quickly becoming a fan of this outfit of Harry’s. He had finished off his sticky bun in the meantime and when he was close enough, Louis reached out and tugged him in, turning them around and pushing Harry up against the car.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as this aggressive,” Harry mumbled, but grinned, so he didn’t seem to mind.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as this docile,” Louis shot back and Harry put his arms behind him, pulling himself up so he came to sit on the boot of the car before twisting the fabric of Louis’ t-shirt in one hand, pulling him in between his legs.

“I’m not always.”

“That a promise?” Louis teased, rubbing their noses together.

“Count on it,” Harry assured before pecking Louis on the lips and then pushing him back, hopping off the car and walking around to the passenger side.

“Oh, so this is how it’s gonna be?” Louis quirked one of his eyebrows, but unlocked the doors anyway, sliding into the driver’s seat and this time took in exactly the way Harry folded himself into the car.

“This is exactly how it’s gonna be,” Harry smiled.

“I can live with that,” Louis smiled back, buckling up his seat belt as Harry did the same.

“Just drive you big softie,” Harry chuckled and Louis grinned at him sideways, grabbing for Harry’s hand and this time only letting go of it when he absolutely had to.