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2013-04-21
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don't be afraid, it's only love

Summary:

A proposal!AU where Louis is at risk of being deported back to England and Harry just really wants a promotion.

Notes:

I don’t know what it is about Sandra Bullock films, but they make great AUs. Also, pretty sure gay marriage is illegal in Alaska, but maybe by the time Harry and Louis are at the age they are in this fic, that’s changed. Also, this is set in America but Louis is British, so the writing is sort of a weird mix of Americanisms and Britishisms. Okay, that’s all. :)

Work Text:

“Tom, I’m letting you go.”

Tom stares at him. “Pardon?”

Louis sighs. It’s been one of those days, and it’s only just begun.

“I’ve been asking you to convince Zayn to do some interviews for a week now, and I don’t think you’ve even tried calling him once.”

Tom stands behind his desk, mouth wide open. Louis wants to tell him that he should probably close it because it makes him look like a fish, but decides it might be wiser not to mention it right now.

“And that’s not even the half of it. I’ll give you two months to find a new job, and then you can tell everyone you resigned.” he says briskly, crossing his arms.

It’s maybe a bit bitchy, even for him, but he hasn’t had his tea yet this morning, so he can’t be blamed for his actions. He walks out of Tom’s office before he can cause a scene, headed to his own (which is nicer than his and in a corner, so suck it, Tom).

*

“Zayn. Zayn, listen to me.”

Louis sits at his desk, typing out an email while holding his phone against his ear with his shoulder. Harry still isn’t here with his tea. Louis is going to kill him if he doesn't arrive in 5 minutes. Then fire him. Then kill him again.

“I’m listening.” Zayn says, over the phone.

“You can’t just be this deep, brooding author when you haven’t even published a book yet. You need exposure. How do you expect people to read your book if no one’s heard of it?”

Just then, Harry walks into his office looking disgruntled, holding a cup of Starbucks. There’s tea spilt on his shirt. Louis motions for him to put it down on his desk, and rolls his eyes as Zayn goes on about being ‘mysterious’ for the millionth time this phone call.

“Zayn? I’m going to have to let you go, mate. You think about it, alright?”

He hears Zayn give a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“Bye, now.” he says, hanging up and resisting the urge to groan. He was hoping to seal the deal by today, but now it looks like he’s going to have to work during the weekend.

He stares at Harry, who has lifted up his shirt and is now blowing on it. “You’re late.”

Harry stops blowing for a moment, and lifts his head up. “Sorry. I spilt your tea, obviously, so I had to get a new one, and then,”

“Okay, enough. Don’t let it happen again.” Louis says, hitting send on his email. “Also, you need a new shirt.”

“Right, I’ll just,” Harry trails off, walking out of his office looking lost.

Louis sighs. He has no idea how Harry’s been working for him for three years now. Granted, he is a good assistant, but has the tendency to be a bit, er, clumsy at times.

Louis can’t exactly fault him for that though, since he works like a puppy to get the promotion to editor he’s been working at for his whole life. Louis can relate, in that aspect. They both probably care about their job too much for their own good. But it makes Harry a pretty loyal assistant, so he can’t complain.

He’s just getting started on a new email when Harry pops his head into his office, noticeably wearing a new shirt.

“Simon wants to see you.” he says.

Louis sighs. “What now?”

“Dunno.” Harry replies, shrugging. “Like my shirt?”

“Fabulous, darling.” Louis deadpans, getting up from his desk.

Harry pauses by his door, looking nervous. “Er, Louis, there’s something I wanted to ask you, actually.”

“If it’s about taking this weekend off, you can forget about it.” Louis replies. “Zayn’s still being stubborn about doing some interviews, and I need you to review some of Tom’s paperwork, as I’ve just let him go.”

“See, the thing is,” Harry continues, as if he was never interrupted. “It’s my grandma’s 90th birthday this weekend, and I was planning on going home.”

“Did you not hear me?” Louis asks, annoyed now. “I need you to work.”

If Harry replies, Louis doesn’t hear it, because he’s already walking away.

*

“You absolute prick!”

Here we go, Louis thinks, rolling his eyes and stopping as he steps out of his office to look at Tom.

“You can’t fire me! Just because you feel threatened by me does not give you the right to abuse your power!” shouts Tom. He’s holding up his pen like he’s about to stab Louis with it, which wouldn’t surprise him, at this point.

“Tom, stop.”

“You think that this whole thing will make you look better to the board, when actually it makes you look like one of the most arrogant and insincere people around. Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think like you can treat us all like we’re below you." Tom continues, shaking with rage. "You know what, I feel bad for you. Because you know what you’re going to have on your deathbed? Nothing, and no one.”

The entire office is silent. Louis can see Harry in the corner of his eye, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. It should be embarrassing, having his authority threatened in front of his assistant, but Louis doesn’t do embarrassing. Louis is not the victim.

“Listen carefully, Tom.” he says, taking a step forward. “I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened, bad boy. I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do working. Also, you might be the biggest twat in the office. And if you say another word, I’m going to have you thrown out. Is that what you want?”

Tom stares at him, silent.

“Didn’t think so,” Louis says quickly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

*

“Morning, Mr. Tomlinson.” Eleanor says brightly, smiling at him.

He ignores her, walking into Simon’s office and shutting the door behind him.

“Simon.” he greets, standing in front of his desk.

“Good morning, Louis.” Simon replies, putting down the papers he was holding and looking up at him.

“I appreciate you wanting to see me, but I’ve got a lot to do today, so if we could make this as quick as possible, that would be great.” says Louis, smiling tightly.

“Louis, you remember when I warned you not to go to Ibiza while your visa was still being processed.” Simon says, going on as if he hadn't said anything.

Louis bounces on his toes, eager to escape the upcoming lecture. “Yes, I remember.”

“And you went anyway.” says Simon.

“I recall, Simon. Are you going to tell me what this is about, or are we just going to stand around all day? Like I said, I have a lot to do, and -”

“Louis, you’re being deported.”

“Ah,” he says, shutting up.

“Apparently, there’s also some important paperwork that you didn’t fill out on time. Look, I’m sorry you had to hear this from me, but.”

“Deported.” Louis says. “Is that even a thing? Can they do that? It’s not like I’m a huge threat to this country.”

“It is a thing, I’m afraid.” replies Simon, looking genuinely upset. “I hate to have to let you go, really, if there was any other way,”

“Er, hang on a minute.” Louis says, because, what. “I can still work from London, via skype, and email, and -”

“Not exactly.” Simon says, cutting him off. “Unfortunately, you can’t work for an American company if you’re deported.”

“Oh, come on, Simon. There’s got to be something we can do.” Louis says, desperately.

Only, this can not be happening. There has to be another way. Louis can not just lose everything he’s ever worked for, and go back to Doncaster. He shudders at the thought.

Louis is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. He watches as Harry tentatively opens it, stepping in.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.” Harry says to him. “Mary called, and she needs to speak to you. I tried to tell her you were busy, but she won’t listen. She’s on the line, waiting.”

“Well, this is sort of important.” Louis replies. “Could you tell her I’m engaged at the moment?”

“Right, it’s only, she keeps insisting she needs to talk to you. You know Mary, she won’t take no for an answer.” says Harry.

Louis stares at him for a moment, something clicking in his mind. Maybe there is something that can be done, after all. He weighs his options. This is either a brilliant idea, or the worst one of all time.

“Actually, could I borrow you for a second, love?” Louis says.

Harry looks behind his shoulder, and back at Louis. “Me?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yes, you.”

“Um.” Harry says, inching towards him.

“That’s it.” Louis says, smiling and wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. Harry flinches a bit when Louis touches him, and Louis winces. This is going to be harder than he expected.

“See, I can understand why you would think I’m going to be deported. I have to say, I haven’t been completely honest with you.” says Louis.

Simon stares, eyes flicking back and forth between them. “The thing is, Harry and I, here, are getting married. So I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue.”

To Harry’s credit, he doesn’t do much other than drop his jaw a tiny bit.

“You’re getting married.” says Simon, in disbelief.

“Yeah, you know. We thought it was best not to disclose our relationship to the public, seeing as it’s sort of a conflict of interest. Also, between you and me, I think your secretary Eleanor is a tad bit homophobic.”

He doesn’t really, but. He needs as much reason as possible.

“So you’ve been dating, all this time.” says Simon, doubtfully.

“Well, it’s only been for the past year, really. Somewhere between the lines, you know, we, fell in love. Didn’t we, Harry?”

“Er.” says Harry, bewildered.

“Man of very few words, he is.” Louis says, squeezing his waist. “So, we’re good?”

Simon looks at him, shaking his head. “Just make it legal, boys.”

Louis grins. “Will do, Si. We better get to immigration now, so we can work this out. Bye, then.”

Louis keeps his arm around Harry’s waist, guiding him out of the office. He has a feeling Harry might be too shocked to walk, otherwise.

“Um.” Harry says once they’re back in Louis’ office. “I don’t exactly understand what’s happening.”

“Easy. You and I are getting married, so I can stay in New York and not be deported back to England. Then, I get my visa sorted out, we get a divorce, and everything goes back to normal. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Illegal, isn’t it?” replies Harry quickly.

“Not if no one finds out. If they doubt us, I’ll just accuse them of being homophobic and they’ll back off. It’s perfect, really.”

“Okay.” Harry says, taking a deep breath. “I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can.” Louis says briskly. “Unless you want all that work you’ve done gone to waste. Think about it. All those teas you’ve gotten me, worthless. Because if you think I’m going to be promoting you when I don’t even work here anymore, you can think again.”

The phone rings.

“You going to get that?” asks Louis, smugly.

Harry gapes at him, then turns away to pick it up. And that’s the end of that.

*

“I have a bad feeling about this.” whispers Harry, sitting in an office at immigration.

Louis looks up from his iPhone. He means to reassure him, but a knock at the door stops him before he can begin.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Payne, but you can call me Liam. You must be Louis, and Harry.” a man about his age says, walking into the office and taking a seat at the desk.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says, smiling.

Louis gives his past self a pat on the back for picking someone so charming to be pretend-married to. If he had to fake a marriage with anyone, he has to admit Harry is a pretty good choice.

“So, let’s get down to business, shall we?” says Liam, opening a folder and taking a look through it.

“We shall.” says Louis, smiling. This is going to easy as cake.

“Are you both committing fraud to avoid his deportation so he can keep his position as editor-in-chief at Syco books?” Liam says politely, motioning to Louis.

Harry coughs.

“Uh, where did you hear that?” Louis asks nervously, resisting the urge to kick Harry.

“We had a tip this morning from a man named, uh,”

Louis swallows, realization sinking in. “Er, would it be Tom Parker?”

Liam nods, looking up. “Tom Parker.”

“I am so sorry,” Louis says, trying his best to look sincere. He’s always been told he’s a pretty good liar, and it comes in handy more often than not. “Tom is nothing more than a naive former employee. I wouldn’t believe much of what he says.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” says Liam. “Let me explain to you how this is going to go.”

Louis smiles. “Go ahead.”

“There’s going to be an interview, where we ask each of you a series of questions about the other person. Then, I talk to your friends and families, and see if what they have to say matches up. In the event that they don’t, you will be deported back to England and your fiancé here will have committed a felony punishable by a fine of 250, 000 dollars and up to 5 years in federal prison.”

“Ah,” Louis says. “Not going to be a problem, will it, Hazza?”

“Hazza?” Harry whispers, raising a brow.

Louis glares at him, telepathically telling him to shut up. It seems to work, because Harry turns to Liam and smiles.

“Nope, not a problem.” Harry says. “Because we’re in love.”

He has no idea how he never noticed before, but Harry is a terrible liar. He should probably just do all the talking from now on.

“Right.” says Liam, tone indicating that he agrees Harry is a terrible liar as well. “So, do your families know about your, er, love?”

“Well, I don't have a dad, and my mum’s dead, so.” Louis says bluntly.

He ignores Harry’s questioning look. So he doesn’t like talking to people about his family. Who can blame him, really.

“And yours?” Liam says, looking at Harry.

“Mine’s alive, but they don’t know.”

“We were going to tell them this weekend.” Louis chimes in. “Grandma’s 90th birthday, the whole family’s going to be there.”

“Be where, exactly?” Liam asks Louis.

Louis quickly fakes a smile, looking over at Harry for help.

“Alaska.” Harry says, smiling back at Louis.

“Yep, Alaska.” Louis agrees. Holy shit.

“You two are going to Alaska this weekend?” Liam asks.

Shit, shit, shit. Louis thought Harry was from New Jersey, or something. This is not what he had planned.

“Yeah. Can’t wait. Beautiful place, really.” Louis says through his teeth. He is so fucked.

“Alright, then. I’ll see you two Monday morning for your interview.”

"You betcha.” Louis says, getting up to shake his hand.

“See you.” says Harry, shaking his hand as well.

“Looking forward to it.” Liam says.

“Oh, we’re looking forward to it.” Louis replies, guiding Harry out of the office as quick as possible.

*

“Alaska, really? You had to be from Alaska? It’s a good thing I have so many air miles, but still. It’s just such an inconvenience, honestly.” Louis says as they walk out of the building onto the busy streets of NYC.

“Good thing you’re not going, then.” replies Harry.

“What, and how do you expect to get away with that? He’s going to figure out I wasn’t there.”

“Good, because we aren’t doing this.” says Harry.

“What?” asks Louis, turning around to face Harry.

“You heard me. I don’t plan on paying 250,000 dollars and going to jail for 5 years, exactly.”

Louis sighs, ignoring the people bumping into him and giving him dirty looks. “I told you, none of that’s going to happen if we don’t get caught.”

“You think that’s the sort of thing I want to risk?” asks Harry, crossing his arms and scowling.

“For a promotion to editor, yeah.” Louis replies.

Harry gapes at him.

Louis was planning on promoting him soon, anyways. You can only hold onto a good assistant for so long.

“Are you serious?” Harry asks, furrowing his brows.

“If you do the Alaska weekend, and the interview, then yeah. You’re editor.”

Harry stares at him. “One more thing.”

“What?”

“Ask me nicely.” replies Harry, smirking a tiny bit now.

“Ask you nicely, what?” Louis asks. He does not like where this is going.

“Ask me nicely to marry you.”

“You can’t be serious. What does that even mean?” God, Harry is a little shit when he has power.

Harry’s smirk grows wider. “It means you get on one knee and propose.”

“I don’t even have a ring!” says Louis, outraged.

“I guess we’ll have to do without.” Harry retorts. That bastard.

“Fine,” Louis says. “Fine.”

He crouches down, getting on one knee, trying not to think about how disgusting the street is. He ignores the strange looks from people passing by, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“Harry Styles.” he says, looking up. His face is at level with Harry’s crotch, which. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, wow.” Harry says, beaming. “I don’t even know what to say.”

His knees are starting to hurt now. “Say yes, darling.”

“Wow, of course. This is so romantic.” Harry says, beaming.

“Bastard.” Louis mutters, getting up and wiping his knees.

“What was that?” asks Harry.

Louis forces a grin, not wanting to give Harry any more satisfaction. “Just saying I love you.”

“Oh,” Harry says, smirking. “Bye.”

Harry turns away, leaving him alone on the street. Louis takes back every word he’s said. Harry is going to make the worst fake-husband ever.

*

This is the bumpiest plane ride Louis has ever experienced. “It’s official. We’re going to die.”

“We’re not going to die.” Harry says, not even looking up from his book.

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that for sure?” Louis says, clutching the arm rests.

“I don’t. Do I have any pets?” Louis looks at Harry, who is looking quite serious.

“What? Are you mental? What do pets have to do with my death?”

“It’s for the interview. How do you expect to pass when you nothing about me?”

Louis scoffs. “I know some things.”

Harry arches a brow. “Like what?”

“Like,” Louis says. “You’ve got curly hair.”

“Impressive.” Harry replies. “And pets? Do I have any?”

“I’m no Harry Styles expert.” Louis replies, sullenly.

“Well, you need to be by the end of this weekend. You need a Ph.D. in H.S.”

“H.S?” Louis asks.

“Those are my initials, Louis.”

“I know that.” Louis replies. “I also know you make dumb jokes.”

“Hey,” whines Harry, pouting. “That was a good one.”

“Sure it was.” Louis says, looking out the window, effectively cutting off the conversation. He has to admit, it is sort of pretty outside, with the large, snowy mountains. It’s no New York City, but it certainly has it’s charm.

He just isn’t sure that he could spend more than a few days here. He was made for the city. It’s part of the reason he moved from Doncaster in the first place. Ever since he made the trip to NYC before university, he’s been attached to it. He wouldn’t give it up for anything, immigration be damned.

*

“Harry!” a lady yells once they get off the plane. (alive, thankfully.)

There isn’t even an airport, just a landing pad surrounded by a small building and miles and miles of nothing. Louis feels more out of place than he ever has in his life.

“Hi, mom.” Harry says, grinning and giving her a hug.

“And this must be your boyfriend!” she says, looking at Louis.

He cringes. “Nice to meet you.”

“Louis, this is my mom, Anne.” Harry says, looking like he’s enjoying himself quite a lot at Louis’ apparent discomfort.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” Anne says, giving him a tight hug.

He awkwardly pats her back a few times, trying not to suffocate, before letting go.

Harry beams at him. “And this is my sister, Gemma, and my Grandma.”

Louis politely introduces himself to them, and they exchange pleasantries, then go over to the car. Louis walks behind everyone, pulling at the sleeves of his jumper and watching as they catch up with each other, laughing.

*

“So, Louis,” Gemma says once they’re in the car. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Louis looks over at Harry, who shrugs.

“Have you?”

Gemma grins. “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t even surprised when Harry told me you two were dating. Now at least I won’t have to listen to him pretend not to complain about you anymore, when it was so obvious he was in love with you.”

“Is that so?” Louis says, catching Harry’s eye, who blushes and looks away.

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve heard him.” Gemma says. “I swear to god, if he wasn’t so good looking, I wouldn’t put up with half of his shit.”

Louis raises his eyebrows.

“Okay!” Harry says quickly. “I think he gets it.”

Louis laughs gleefully. “Not sure I do, actually.”

“Oh, that’s not even the best part.” Gemma says, smiling wickedly. “You should see the pants he wears sometimes. His bum -

“Alright! That’s quite enough, Gemma.” Anne says, from the front seat.

“Thank you, mom.” says Harry, blushing furiously.

Louis catches his eye, and winks. Harry just looks out the window, and Louis saves him from further embarrassment by looking out his, too. He does take note of the comment about his bum, though. He didn’t even know Harry was gay. Although, you don’t really have to be gay to appreciate a good bum. And if there’s one thing Louis prides himself on, it’s his arse.

*

“So, where’s the hotel?” Louis asks, in the car.

Anne laughs from the drivers seat. “Oh, don’t be silly! We wouldn’t make you stay in a hotel! You’re staying with us, love.”

Louis forces a smile. “Oh, no really-”

“We insist.” Harry’s grandma says, interrupting him. “You simply must."

“Er,” Louis says. He supposes it would save him some money. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“Of course we’re sure! I’ve set up a room for you already.” Anne says, smiling. “It has a great view of the water, you’ll love it.”

“Your house is on the water?” Louis asks, turning to Harry .

“Yep.” Harry says. “Why else would we need to take a boat to it?”

Louis’ mouth drops open, a little. “Boat? No one said anything about a boat.”

“What’s the matter?” teases Harry. “You scared?”

Louis scoffs. “No, Harold, I’m not scared. I just don’t much fancy falling into the freezing cold Alaskan waters.”

“Don’t worry.” Harry says, smiling now. “I won’t let you fall.”

Anne coos from the drivers seat, and Louis resists the urge to make gagging noises.

*

“I’m not getting in that boat.” Louis says, staring at it. He’s distrusted it from the moment he saw it. It’s hardly even a proper boat, nevertheless sturdy enough to protect him from the cold water. Harry rolls his eyes.

“Is that all?” he asks, referring to his luggage.

“No, there’s this too.” Louis replies, handing him another bag.

Harry groans. “Jesus, Louis. It’s three days, not months.”

“I like to have options, okay?” Louis protests. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

He throws Louis bag into the boat, and they both cringe at the loud thud it makes.

“What do you even have in there?” Harry asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Louis teases. “Maybe some of those pants that make my arse look so -”

“Would you shut up and get in the boat?” Harry interrupts.

Louis mock gasps. “Rudeness!”

Harry sighs. “Sorry. Would you please get in the boat?”

“Nah, rather not.”

“Louis!”

“What?” Louis asks.

Harry stares at him for a moment. “This is just like The Notebook. When Noah is yelling at Allie to get in the water.”

Louis gapes at him. “I’m just going to pretend that you never said that.”

“It is, though! It’s quite romantic really.”

“Are you kidding me?” Louis says incredulously. “What exactly is romantic about me freezing to death in Alaskan water?”

“Are you going to get in, or am I just going to have to leave you here and drive away with your luggage?” Harry says, ignoring him.

Louis huffs out a sigh. “Fine. Fine. But if I die, I swear to god Harry, I’ll kill you.”

*

He’s glad he survives the boat ride, because Harry’s house is huge.

“You never told me you were rich.” he whispers, elbowing Harry.

Harry swats his elbow away. “I’m not, my parents are.”

“Same thing.” Louis retorts.

His phone goes off then, buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out, seeing Zayn’s number on the screen.

“Hello?” he asks.

“Alright, I’ll do it.” Zayn says immediately.

Louis lets out a sigh of relief, and Harry looks at him quizzically. He mouths ‘later’ to him, and turns back to his phone.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that. I’ll set some interviews up right away.”

Anne comes over to them then, and steals Harry away. He watches as they talk a bit away from him. Or maybe argue, from the looks of it.

“I’ll talk to you later once it’s all sorted, okay?” Louis says to Zayn.

“Okay, talk to you later.” Zayn says.

“Bye.” Louis says, hanging up and going over to Harry and Anne.

“Everything alright?” he asks, plastering on a grin.

“Everythings great!” Anne says, smiling. “Harry is just being a party pooper.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I told her you wouldn’t want to go to party as soon as you got here, but she insists you will.”

“Of course I will! I love parties!” Louis says, smiling. Admittedly, his idea of a party is probably a lot different from what she has in mind.

“Great, because we’ve got all our friends and family inside now! They can’t wait to meet you!”

Louis’ mouth twitches. “Neither can I!”

“You deserve it, Mr. I love parties,” Harry whispers as they walk up to the house.

Louis glares at him.

“You also didn’t tell me your mum was fit.” he says, following Harry into the house.

Harry looks affronted. “Yeah, because that’s the kind of thing I enjoy telling people. Oh, hi, nice to meet you, did you know my mom is fit?”

They stop talking then, because they’re swarmed by a sea of people all wanting to speak to them. It seems like Harry is a bit of a celebrity in his small town in Alaska. Who would have thought?

Louis hides for a bit by the food, snacking on a shrimp ring and smiling at people as they walk by. He’s quite enjoying being alone, until Harry’s grandmother comes over to him, clearly wanting to talk.

“Hello, there.” he says, swallowing his food.

“Hi, love. I hope you don’t mind, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“No, of course.” he says. Oh my god, he’s going to get the if-you-hurt-him-i’ll-kill-you talk from a grandma. This is his life now.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming down here for my birthday. I know it’s nothing you’re used to, so it means a lot.”

Louis smiles warmly at her. “It’s my pleasure, really.”

“That’s not all. I also wanted to say thank you for making my Harry happy.”

She looks so sincere that Louis can literally feel the guilt clawing at his chest. “Well, he makes me happy too, so.”

He’s saved from the conversation when he hears Harry shouting from the living room that he has an announcement. Louis quickly makes his way over to him, weaving through the massive amount of people.

“Ah, there you are.” Harry says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Louis smiles at him, trying not to look nervous. “Here I am.”

“Well, like I said, I have an announcement.” says Harry to the room at large. Louis looks over at Anne, who seems to have cottoned on already, because she has her hand over her mouth. “Or, we have an announcement.”

Louis grins at Harry, encouraging him. Harry takes a deep breath, looking over at him and smiling a little, and then, “Louis and I are getting married!”

*

“So, who proposed?” someone asks.

After Harry made the announcement, it was madness. It seemed like every single person in the town was there, congratulating them. If he had thought the town was small before, he takes it back after talking to its every resident.

“Oh, he did.” Harry says, eyes lighting up. “It was beautiful, really.”

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes, thinking back to their ‘beautiful’ proposal.

“Why? What did you do?” asks Anne, looking close to tears. She’d been a mess ever since they told her, really. It sort of makes Louis close to tears himself, but not exactly in a good way.

“Oh, I,” Louis pauses, trying to come up with something quickly. “Well, it was just your average, run in the mill proposal, really. I took him out to dinner,”

“Fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been to.” adds Harry, and everyone coos.

“Yep, that. And after dessert, I pulled out the ring,”

“And he told me how perfect I was, and how much I meant to him, and,”

Louis pinches him. “Who’s telling the story here, love?”

“You, pumpkin.” says Harry, jerking away from his hand.

Louis turns back to everyone. “And I asked him to marry me. That was pretty much it, it just kind of happened.”

“That is beautiful, boys.” Anne says, wiping away tears.

“Give us a kiss!” someone shouts.

“Oh, do.” agrees Gemma. L

ouis looks at Harry, whose eyes are wide as he licks his lips subconsciously. Louis thinks, fuck it, and leans forward, closing his eyes. He kisses him chastely, pulling at a curl before leaning back and smiling at him.

Harry looks like a deer in headlights for a moment, but catches himself and smiles back at him. Everyone else in the room seems to disappear for a minute, leaving no one but Louis and Harry. He never even noticed that Harry has dimples before. They’re really quite endearing. And he smells like good cologne, and apples. Louis forces himself to look away, before it gets worse.

He coughs. “So, that’s all.”

*

“So, this is your bedroom.” Anne says, guiding them into the room. “I knew you two lovebirds would want to share a bed, so I gave you a king size.”

“It’s lovely, thanks.” says Louis. It really is. Harry’s family is fucking loaded.

“Well, you must be tired. I’ll just leave you to it, then. If you need anything, just ask.”

“Thanks, mom.” says Harry.

“Bye, loves.” she says, grinning at them and leaving.

Louis groans, collapsing on the bed. “Well, if one positive thing has come out of today, it’s that Zayn agreed to do some interviews.”

Harry looks at him. “Oh yeah? When was this?”

“When I was on the phone, earlier.”

“That’s great, Louis. Now you can just enjoy the weekend and not worry about work.”

Louis snorts. “I wish. There’s still those interviews to schedule.”

“Right.” Harry says, pulling off his shirt.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, pulling down his trousers. “Sure.”

“Why is it 11 at night and the sun is still shining into my eyes?”

“Alaska, Louis. It’s sunny 24 hours a day.”

“Wow. Just when I think this place can’t get any better.” Louis deadpans.

Harry fakes a gasp. “Only kidding, Harold. It’s not bad, really.”

“Good,” says Harry, and takes off his pants.

And. Louis could have gone his entire life without seeing that. It’s not that Harry is bad looking - actually, it’s the complete opposite. Louis can admit that objectively Harry is attractive. Which makes it that much harder to deal with the fact that he’s naked in front of him.

“Oh my god!” he squeals, hiding his face in his hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t like sleeping with clothes on.” he hears Harry say, as he climbs into bed next to him.

“Get away from me, crazy!” Louis says, rolling off the bed onto the floor, eyes still covered.

“Oh, relax.” says Harry, calmly.

Louis peeks through his fingers, finding Harry under the covers, thankfully. “You’re insane. Put some pants on, at least.”

“Nope.” says Harry, popping the P.

Louis climbs into bed again slowly, careful not to touch Harry. “You are the worst.”

“Goodnight, my love.” replies Harry, pressing a button on a remote to close the blinds, blocking the sun.

Louis doesn’t bother replying, closing his eyes and ignoring the way his body had turned all warm at Harry’s words. He was kidding, for fucks sake, pull yourself together, he scolds himself. He turns over, falling asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the day.

*

Louis wakes up not knowing where he is. He turns over in bed, feeling a body next to him, and suddenly everything comes rushing back. It’s weird, waking up next to someone. Louis can’t even remember the last time that happened to him. He almost forgot how nice it was, not waking up alone.

Harry makes a noise in his sleep, sniffling and turning over to face him. His mouth is wide open, and Louis’ lips twitch into a small smile at the sight.

“Breakfast!” someone calls from the other side of the door.

Louis shakes Harry, trying to wake him up.

“One minute!” he calls, continuing to shake Harry, to no avial.

“Wake up, idiot!” he whispers violently, prodding Harry.

Harry’s eyes open a tiny bit, showing a bit of green. “Hmm?”

“Your mum’s at the door.” Louis says to him.

Harry’s eyes are squinted as he rubs at them.

“Come in.” he calls groggily.

The door opens, and Anne and Harry’s grandma walk in, holding a tray of bacon and strawberries.

“Good morning.” Anne says, setting the tray down and smiling.

“Morning, mom.” says Harry.

“Look at you two. You are so cute together.” Harry’s grandma says with a fond smile.

Louis forces himself not to look at Harry.

"Focus, mom.” Anne says. “There’s something we wanted to ask you two, and, well, we hope you’ll consider it, but don’t feel pressured, or anything,”

“We want you two to get married here.” Harry’s grandma says, cutting her off. “On Sunday.”

“Mom!” Anne says, looking embarrassed. “Well, it’s just, the whole family is here, and they’d love to be at the wedding, and since you’re getting married anyway, why not do it here?"

“Oh, mom, I don’t know.” says Harry. “It’s just so sudden.”

Louis hums in agreement. “Plus, it’s your birthday Sunday. We don’t want to take your big day away from you.”

“Oh, to hell with that.” says Harry’s grandma. “What would really make me happy is to see my grandson get married.”

Louis looks at Harry, shaking his head no.

“Before I die.” she adds.

“Okay!” Harry and Louis say quickly at the same time.

“Oh, you would?” says Anne, looking close to tears again. “We’d take care of everything. You could get married in the barn, just like tradition.”

Louis smiles. “Oh, wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, love! Only the best for my little babycakes.” Anne says.

Harry groans, shoving his face into a pillow. “Bye, mom.”

Anne smiles. “Bye, lovelies.”

“Oh my god.” says Harry after she leaves, sitting up and throwing the pillow towards the end of the bed. He's still naked, but the blankets cover his lower half, fortunately. Or unfortunately. Louis is undecided. “My mom is going to be crushed when she finds out this marriage is a sham. And my grandma’s going to die.”

“She’s not going to die.” Louis says, but secretly wonders a little himself. “They’re never going to find out.”

Harry leans forward, shoving his face into his palms. “Oh god, Louis.”

“Shh, Harry. It’s going to be fine. No one is going to die.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry mumbles. “It could happen.”

“It won’t.” says Louis, moving closer to Harry to rub his shoulders. Harry relaxes a little, leaning into him. Just when Harry is starting to feel calm and pliant underneath his hands, his phone rings, making him tense up again. He moves away from Harry, reaching for it on the nightstand.

“Hi?” he says.

“Louis?” Zayn’s voice comes through the phone. “I’m having second thoughts.”

Louis wants to punch a wall. “Oh no, Zayn. I thought we agreed this would be for the best.”

Harry gives him a pitying look, before grabbing some bacon and shoving it in his mouth.

“I know, but I just don’t know anymore.” says Zayn.

Louis hits the pillow. “Come on, Zayn. I believe in you. You can do this, mate.”

Louis reaches for some bacon, listening to Zayn consider his options on the phone.

“If you ask me, I think it’d be a real mistake for you to back out. Personally, I love your writing, and I think everyone else should have the chance to experience it.”

He hums at Zayn’s vague response, swatting Harry’s hand away from the last strawberry and stealing it for himself.

“Well, you think about it, and call me when you decide, alright?”

“Alright,” says Zayn sadly. “Bye.”

“Bye, now.” says Louis, hanging up.

“Well, that’s shit.” Harry says.

“Fuck.” agrees Louis.

Harry yawns, stretching out his arms above him. Louis tries not to let his eyes linger on the patch of hair just under his bellybutton, just above where the blankets cover. Harry's body is obscene, honestly.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got the whole day planned for us.”

“No, why would I ever mind that?” Louis replies, sarcastically.

“Oh, come off it. You’ll love it.” says Harry. “First, we have to get suits. Then, I have to introduce you to my friend Niall. You two will get along great, just wait.”

Louis sincerely doubts this, because he hasn’t ‘gotten along great’ with anyone new in a very long time.

*

“You are not wearing a bow-tie to our wedding.”

Harry pouts. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Not when it involves bow-ties. I’m already getting married in a barn, I can’t deal with bow-ties as well.”

Harry sighs, slipping the bow-tie off his neck and setting it down on the chair. They’ve been at it for the past couple hours, debating over different suits until they finally decided on one. Now they're on to accessories.

If he has to hear Harry hum ‘Suit and Tie’ one more time, he’s going to flip.

"What about this?” Harry asks, holding up a thin red tie.

Louis looks it over, deciding it’s not bad. “Well, try it on first.”

“Only, could you tie it for me?”

Louis sighs, grabbing it and pulling Harry towards him. He ignores the feeling of Harry’s eyes on him, quickly tying it and letting it go. He takes a step back, giving Harry a good once-over. He has to admit, he looks pretty good. Too good, actually. It’s beginning to get a little frustrating how good looking Harry is. “Not bad, Styles.”

Harry grins widely. “Now you.”

Louis rolls his eyes, allowing Harry to do his tie, trying not to focus on the way that Harry bites his lip in concentration. When he finishes, he pokes his tongue out a little, which shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Well, give us a spin.” says Harry, smiling.

Louis makes a face, but indulges him, turning around slowly. When his back is facing Harry, he feels hands lift up the back of his blazer, revealing his bum.

“Fits quite nice around there, as well.” he hears Harry say.

Louis turns around, mock indignation on his face. “Cheeky little bastard.”

Harry just grins larger. “You love it.”

Louis doesn’t reply, choosing instead to hit Harry in the balls. That’ll teach him.

*

After picking out suits, Harry had pleaded with Louis for a good 20 minutes to go see a movie with him.

“Does this town even have a theatre?” Louis asks, doubtfully.

Yes, Louis. Now can we go, or what?”

Louis sighs dramatically. “Okay, fine. But you owe me one.”

“Well, seeing as I’m getting married to you tomorrow so you won’t be deported, I think we can call it even.”

“Don’t make me change my mind, Harry.” Louis tells him.

They go to the theatre, and Harry takes about 15 minutes deciding on what movie they should see, and another 10 debating whether he should get popcorn or candy. The teenaged girl behind the counter looks about ready to kill him before Louis has to intervene and make the life changing decision for him.

“He’ll have a medium popcorn, thanks.” Louis says, and the girl doesn’t bother to reply, turning around and shoving some popcorn into a bag.

“Hey,” Harry says, pouting. “I was still deciding.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and who knows how long that could have gone on for. I had to stop it eventually.”

“That’ll be 10.50,” the girl says, handing him the bag.

Harry digs in his pocket, pulling out some change. “Love how not overpriced this place is.”

Louis giggles, but the girl does not seem so impressed. Harry hands over the money to her, then heads towards their theatre as quickly as possible, Louis chasing after him quickly.

“She was ready to murder you, mate. Did you see the look on her face?”

Harry laughs breathlessly like he’s just run a marathon. “Yeah, I did. Just about shit myself.”

Louis snorts. “Teenage girls, man. You’ve got to watch out for them.”

“I was being serious.” says Harry. “She was intimidating!”

“Then why did you say that, then?” Louis asks.

“Dunno.” Harry says, looking thoughtful. “Wanted to see what you’d do, I guess.”

Louis smiles. “Well, you got a laugh out of me.”

Harry punches his fist in the air, grinning. “Success!”

The theatre for their movie turns out to be completely empty, which is probably due to a combination of the small town and the fact that Harry picked the weirdest movie of all time.

“What is even happening right now?” Louis asks loudly, glad they’re the only ones in the theatre so he can complain as much as he wants.

“Shh,” Harry says, putting a finger up to his mouth, shushing him. Or not, Louis thinks.

He would focus on the movie, if he had any idea what it was even about. After about five more minutes, he can’t stand it anymore. He starts fidgeting, tapping his fingers against his thigh and bouncing his leg.

“Louis,” Harry hisses, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “You’re being annoying.”

“How? What am I doing?” asks Louis, aware of his hand still in Harry’s but making no move to let go.

“You’re distracting me.”

Louis frowns. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t picked such a dumb movie-”

“That’s it.” Harry says, slapping his (very large) hand across Louis’ mouth.

“Mppfh.” Louis says.

Harry grins smugly at him as he tries to pry his hand away. It takes awhile, but he’s finally successful in moving Harry’s hand away, after he puts his whole body into it.

“Don’t touch me, twat.” Louis says, huffing.

Harry snorts out a laugh.

“What, like this?” he says, leaning in to tickle him.

Louis squeals, grabbing a handful of popcorn and throwing it at Harry in defense. “Get off me, you animal!”

Harry giggles harder, shaking out his hair and looking at him with bright eyes. “Not until you shut up and watch the movie.”

“Fine.” Louis says, poking him hard in the stomach. “You’ve missed about half of it by now, though.”

“I’ll live.” Harry says, leaning over, nuzzling into his neck and leaving his head there, resting on Louis’ shoulder.

He should probably put a stop to it, but.

*

Niall, it turns out, is a bartender at the only pub in town. It’s been so long since Louis’ had time to sit in a pub and chill out with mates, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. Niall almost even reminds him of his mate Stan from home, with his carefree nature and go with the flow attitude.

Actually, most of the people he’s met here have the same attitude as Niall. They are nothing like they are in New York, actually taking the time to get to know him and make him feel comfortable. He is maybe getting a bit too comfortable here, if he thinks about it. He feels like he’s taking advantage of Harry’s life and just sticking himself in the middle of it, without thinking of how it will affect everyone when they get divorced in a year or so. It was just so easy to get caught up in having people who cared about him, who actually felt a bit like family. Anne had been so accepting, welcoming him in with no questions asked, as well as Harry’s grandma, and even Gemma had acted like they were already siblings right from the start.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, standing in Simon's office, but actually being here is making him feel so selfish and guilty that he feels like he’s going to be sick with it.

“Louis? You alright there?” asks Niall, breaking him from his thoughts. “You look like you could use another drink.”

“Yeah, I probably could.” he says, ignoring Harry’s concerned look.

He takes the pint from Niall, sipping on it while listening to him and Harry talk about what they’ve been up to lately. It’s weird seeing this side of Harry, when he’s not stressed out from a busy day at work, and just completely relaxed in his element. Louis feels another pang of guilt for not letting him visit home enough for the past 3 years.

“I think I’m going to get some air.” he says, putting down his empty glass on the bar and getting up.

Harry furrows his brows, getting up as well. “I’ll come with you.”

Niall mimes puking noises with his finger in his mouth, which just makes him feel even worse.

“What’s up?” asks Harry, leaning against the balcony overlooking the water.

The thing about Louis is, he doesn’t apologize for being selfish. That just isn’t him. He takes, and takes, and doesn’t feel one inch of guilt about it, because he learned long ago that’s the only way to get what you want. So he doesn’t apologize.

“Nothing, just. It’s weird being here, it’s so different from New York.”

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

Louis pauses, keeping his expression blank. “Not sure yet.”

“Well, let me know when you are.” Harry hums, going back inside. Louis stays out much longer though, staring out at the water and thinking.

He is perhaps in too deep.

*

A couple hours later, and Louis is drunk.

“I’m going to have to cut you off.” Niall says, taking Louis’ empty glass from him and wiping it down.

“Come on, Nialler,” he whines. He doesn’t even know where he got that nickname from. “Just one more.”

“Yeah, one more.” slurs Harry, nodding along.

Niall shakes his head. “Don’t you two have to get married tomorrow? Do you really want to be hungover for that?”

Harry puts his head into his hands. “I forgot about that.”

Louis gasps. “I’m offended, honestly, Harold.”

Niall snorts out a laugh. “Is this supposed to be your bachelor party, or something?”

Harry lifts his head from his arms. “If it is, it’s the worst one ever. Not one stripper in sight.”

Louis nods feverently. “Agreed.”

“You know, I used to dabble in a bit of stripping myself.” Niall says, beaming proudly.

Louis chokes on his beer while Harry collapses into giggles.

“Pardon me?” Louis says, coughing.

Harry hits his back a few times, which helps a little. “I know CPR, if you need it.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Louis says, taking a large sip of his beer to clear his throat. Harry’s hand stays on his back, resting just above the curve of his bum. "You were a stripper?"

“I had to pay for college somehow, didn’t I?” Niall says, grinning widely. “I’m surprised Harry never told you.”

Louis looks over to Harry, who’s still cracking up. “He never mentioned it, actually. He doesn’t talk about his friends a lot.”

Louis leaves out the part where if Harry were to talk about his life at work Louis would most likely ignore him and send him for more tea.

“Really?” asks Niall. “He talks about you a lot, though.”

Harry groans. “You know, it’s getting late. We should be getting home.”

“No, I think we should stay.” Louis protests, grinning.

He should probably be careful of what he wishes for, though, because just then a man enters the bar, a look of recognition crossing his face when he sees Harry.

"Young Harold! Haven't seen you in ages, man." he says, beaming.

Louis scowls at him. Harold is his name for Harry.

Harry turns around, looking almost panicked for a second before he rearranges his face into something more neutral. “Grimmy! Good to see you, man.”

Niall’s eyes flick back and forth between Louis and Grimmy, expression somewhat apprehensive. “Hiya, Nick.”

“Always a pleasure, Niall.” Nick says. “So, Harold, when were you planning on telling me you were engaged?”

“I, uh.” Harry stutters. “I told everyone at the party on Friday, but you weren’t there, so.”

“Ah, I was out of town. Shame, I would have liked to meet your boy.”

Louis coughs.

“Uh, actually.” Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is him.”

Nick turns to look at him for the first time since coming in. “Oh my god. Where are my manners?”

Louis waves a hand. “It’s fine, no worries. I’m Louis.”

“I’m Nick, Harry’s ex boyfriend. Although I maybe shouldn’t have you told you that, sorry.” Nick says, looking about as far from sorry as possible.

Well, this night just took a turn for the worse.

Not that he minds that Harry’s gay, or bisexual, or whatever. He’s never really considered it before, because Harry had been single the entire time Louis’ knew him, or he just never mentioned any significant other when everyone else talked about theirs.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Louis says, because he can be civil, despite what some might say.

Nick orders a drink, sitting beside Harry and engaging him in a conversation about old times. Louis just sips on his own drink, talking to Niall about nothing in particular and trying not to look over at Harry, which proves to be harder than he expected as he’s sat right next to him.

It’s not that Louis’ jealous, at all, because there’s nothing to be jealous of. It’s not like him and Harry are actually engaged, it’s just. It’s weird seeing the boy he’s supposed to be getting married to tomorrow laughing and talking with his ex-boyfriend as he sits there trying to act like it doesn’t bother him.  

“Harry,” Louis says after a few more drinks (Niall seemed to have forgotten about cutting him off), tapping on Harry's thigh with a finger.

Harry looks over at him right away, leaving Nick to trail off on whatever dumb story he was telling. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m ready to go now.” he says, finishing off the remains of his drink.

“Okay,” Harry says, putting down his half finished drink. “Right then, boys, it’s been fun.”

Nick pouts. “Leaving so soon?”

Louis resists the urge to glare at him. “Well, we sort of have a wedding to attend tomorrow.”

Harry giggles. “Bye, guys.”

“See you, then.” Nick says. “Oh, and, Louis?”

“Yeah?” Louis asks apprehensively.

“Treat him well, yeah?”

Louis would feel bad for the guy, if he wasn't such a twat. “I will.”

Harry is giving him a weird look, so Louis grabs his hand and leads him out of the bar, stumbling a little.

“I have to call a water taxi.” Harry says once they’re outside, pulling out his phone.

“A what?”

“A water taxi.” Harry repeats. “Like a taxi, but it’s a boat.”

“Alaska.” Louis says, shaking his head. “Weirdest place ever.”

They stand there waiting for a bit before a boat pulls up to the dock, and they climb in. In hindsight, getting into a boat while drunk isn’t the best idea of all time, because he starts feeling like he’s going to be sick two minutes into the ride.

Thankfully, he survives the ride without puking or falling out, and he allows Harry to help him out of the boat and up the ladder off the dock. They walk up to the house, Louis’ hand still in Harry’s. They are probably crossing a line, somewhere, but Louis can just blame it on how much he’s had to drink.

The thing is, Harry’s hand feels so nice in his, and he kind of never wants to let go. He also kind of hates himself for it. It’s one thing to enjoy what it feels like to have a proper family again, but it’s a whole other thing to take advantage Harry, who reminds him what it feels like to be in love.

He thinks about Harry checking out his arse when they were trying on suits, and nuzzling into his neck at the cinema, and Gemma and Niall telling him that Harry talked about him a lot and oh, fuck.

He is definitely in too deep.

*

When they get back in their room, Louis decides he wants to take a shower to clear his head. He averts Harry's eyes, grabbing a towel as Harry strips off all his clothes and falls onto the bed.

After his shower (which doesn’t help clear his head at all), he pulls on some pants and goes over to the bed where Harry is laying, eyes still open as he stares at the ceiling. When he climbs into bed to lay next to him, Harry’s eyes move from the ceiling to meet his, giving him this look that makes Louis feel like he can see right through him, like he can hear everything he’s thinking. They lay there quietly for a bit, until Louis reaches his hand up to rest beside his pillow and Harry looks at it.

“What are these?” murmurs Harry softly, grabbing his wrist and running his thumb back and forth over the birds there.

Louis looks down at his wrist, watching the way Harry’s hand gently holds it and ignoring the way his heart speeds up far more than necessary.

“Bird tattoos." he whispers softly. "I got them after my mum died.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for awhile, which Louis is thankful for, and then,

“For the record, I do have a pet. Cat named Dusty.” he whispers, like it’s a secret.

Louis breathes in slowly. “I don’t have any.”

“My favourite movie is Love, Actually.”

“Grease.”

“Coldplay.”

“The Fray.”

Harry sucks in a breath. He looks down for a second, staring at the birds on Louis’ wrist, then back up. “If I hadn’t moved to New York, I think my parent’s would never have gotten divorced. I can't stop blaming myself for it.”

Louis wishes, for a moment, that he could be more like Harry. Wear his heart on his sleeve, show every emotion he’s feeling. He can try, he thinks.

“I went to the bathroom and cried after Tom told me I was going to die alone.”

Harry’s eyes flick up to his for a moment, then back down.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” whispers Harry.

His eyes look so earnest, in the low sunlight streaming into the room, and it makes Louis want to cry. It would be easy to blame his words on the alcohol, but they both know neither of them were ever that drunk. Louis doesn’t say anything, just stares at the ceiling, and he can feel Harry panicking beside him.

“I know, technically, it’s only been two days, but it’s like you’re a whole new person. Not in bad way, I just mean, I never knew,”

“Harry.” Louis finally says, interrupting him. “I think I’m going to sleep on the sofa tonight.”

He can literally feel Harry’s disappointment beside him, without even looking over. Louis doesn’t think he could stand to see what Harry looks like right now.

“Oh,” Harry replies, hurt evident in his tone. “Alright.”

Louis gets up, grabbing a blanket from the chair next to the bed and walking out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

*

It’s like this. Only a few people have loved Louis in his life.

There was his dad, who left them when he was two years old. He doesn’t even remember that, so he’s not sure it counts, but his mum had insisted that he loved him, so.

Then there was his step-dad, who lasted a bit longer, but still left in the end. Louis remembers that one quite well.

And, of course, there was his mum. Who loved him more than anyone else ever had, or ever will. And then she went and died, leaving Louis with no one when he was 18 years old. No siblings, no grandparents, nothing.

After he moved to New York, there had been Greg. His first real boyfriend, until things got tough, then he left, too.

So Louis has grown to learn a pattern, here. When someone loves him, they tend to leave him, eventually.

And Harry. Harry, who has this lovely family waiting for him back in Alaska, who Louis never lets him see, because he is the worst boss ever. And a terrible person. And for some reason, Harry decided it would be a good idea to go and fall in love with him.

Well, Louis knows better. First thing tomorrow morning, he’s going to get a damn water taxi, then a normal taxi, then get on the first plane to New York. After that, he’s going to turn himself in to immigration, and tell them this entire thing was his fault, and that he forced Harry to do all of it. And then it’s back to England for him. What he’s going to do when he gets there, he has no clue.

All his life, people have been leaving him, but this time, Louis is prepared. For once, he’s going to be the one leaving, before the other person even has a chance.

*

For a second when he wakes up, he forgets what happened last night. Then it comes rushing back to him all at once, that Harry had said that he was falling for him, and that he had ran away.

He sits up, groaning a little from the headache he gets right away. Pulling out his iPhone, he checks the times for flights and finds that there’s one that he can probably make at 11:00. He buys a ticket, and goes to grab his stuff and get packing.

He hesitates before he opens the door though, knowing that Harry is still in their room, not wanting to wake him up.

He gets an idea then, padding over to the kitchen and grabbing a piece of paper from the pad on the fridge. He takes a pen from the counter, and begins writing. He figures Harry deserves an explanation for when he wakes up alone on his wedding day.

He writes down in the letter all the reasons why him and Harry would never work out (because he’s bitchy, incapable of love, addicted to his work, and Harry will leave him once he realizes all this, so he’s just doing him a favour, really). He explains about his past, about how everyone who’s ever loved him has left him, and it’s only a matter of time until he does, too. He also adds that he’s gone to catch the 11 o’clock flight, and that he’s sorry that Harry will have wasted the past 3 years, but that it’s for the best, really.

He tiptoes into their room, grabbing all his stuff silently and leaving the note on the nightstand next to where Harry is still fast asleep. He allows himself to sneak a quick glance at Harry, who looks completely peaceful and angelic, a few stray curls in front of his eyes. He tears himself away then, walking away before he does something stupid.

*

Louis has always loved airports - the idea of getting away, of teary goodbyes, and reunions - but Harry’s town is too fucking small to even have a proper airport. There is a small building outside the landing track though, in which he’s waiting for his plane to arrive. The room is empty, because he’s still quite early, also, because there aren’t many people in Alaska.

He tucks his knees into his chest, fiddling with his luggage, when his phone rings.

For a moment, he thinks it might be Harry, but the screen lights up showing Zayn’s number instead. He isn’t sure whether he’s disappointed or not.

“Hello?” he says, voice tired.

“Louis? Yeah, it’s me, Zayn.”

Louis sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, good. Look, I’ve thought about it more, and I think I’m going to do it. For real this time.”

Louis doesn’t even have the heart to tell him that in a few days he won’t even be working anymore. “That’s great, Zayn. I’m really glad.”

“Thanks.” Zayn says. “Call me later, yeah? I’ve got to go.”

“Bye.” he says, but Zayn has already hung up. He sighs again, locking his phone and looking up. And then he sees Harry, and everything sort of goes to shit.

“Hi.” Harry says, standing in front of him, and Louis has to look at him for awhile to make sure that he’s real, that this is actually a thing that’s happening to him.

“Hi.” he replies, after staring at him for a bit.

“Um.” Harry starts. “I don’t really have a plan for this, but. Don’t get on the plane, please.”

Louis swallows. “I guess you got my letter.”

“Yeah, I did. And look, I’m sorry that’s all happened to you. And I’m sorry I freaked you out last night.”

“It’s fine.” Louis starts, but Harry cuts him off.

“No, it’s not. And I’m sorry you see yourself that way-”

“Not your fault.” Louis interrupts.

“Okay, but still.” Harry continues. “Fuck, I don’t know how to say this. I’m no good at this. I just. I don’t see you like that, at all.”

Louis raises a brow, moving his knees in closer to his chest, pulling on the sleeves of his jumper and tucking his hands into them. “But you will.”

Harry pauses. “I’m not them, Louis.”

Louis blinks, staring at him.

“Well.” he says.

Harry reaches a hand out to him, tentatively. He hesitates, then takes it, allowing himself to be helped up from where he’s sat on one of the uncomfortable airport chairs. Harry wraps his arms around him, holding him close and pressing their foreheads together.

“I, fuck, Louis.” Harry says, swallowing thickly. “I wish I could explain, properly. I just, I see someone who’s been fucked over one too many times, so he buried himself in work and didn’t let anyone in for long enough to realize it.”

“Well, that,” Louis says, pulling their faces apart.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?” Harry says, huffing and tightening his grip on him.

Louis sighs, closing his mouth.

“Then, I see someone who I spent the last couple days actually getting to know. I see someone who fit in right away with my family, and my friends, and then. I see someone who I fell in love with, once I saw how kind, and funny, and what a genuinely good person he was. I see the man I want to get married to today, so he doesn’t leave, again.”

Harry’s entire face is so, completely sincere, but Louis.

“You might think all that now, yeah.” Louis says, voice cracking. “But there’s a reason I’ve been alone all this time. I’m comfortable this way, Harry. I’m going to go to England, and you’re going to go to New York, and you’ll meet someone else and forget all about me. Trust me, it will be easier for both of us this way."

“You’re right.” Harry replies, taking a deep breath. “It would be easier.”

There’s a silence, where they just stare at each other, unsure of what to say. Then Harry gives Louis the tiniest of smiles, and,

“I’m scared.” Louis breaths out, lifting up his shoulders a bit.

Harry’s smile grows a bit larger as he shrugs a little. “Me, too.”

“Okay,” Louis says, and then he’s doesn’t know how it happens, but him and Harry are leaning towards each other, and Harry is whispering, Okay, against his mouth, and they’re kissing.

And it’s like being in Harry’s living room again, after they announced that they were engaged, but it’s so much better now, because it’s real. It’s real, and it’s scary as fuck, but it’s them.

He holds onto Harry, like he’s the only thing keeping him on the ground, and not floating in the air, like the plane that he’s supposed to be on -

“Oh my god.” Louis says, pulling away. “I can’t believe we’re having a cliche airport scene here. This isn’t even a real airport. It’s a sad excuse for one.”

“Hey,” Harry says, smiling. “I thought it was pretty good.”

“You would.” Louis replies. “Hey, isn’t there something we’re supposed to be doing now?”

For a second, Harry looks crestfallen, like he’s half-expecting him to say he has a flight to catch, until Louis clarifies.

“We have a wedding to attend, I believe.” he says, grabbing Harry’s hand and squeezing.

Harry smiles, looking down at their hands for a moment before looking up at him. “Right. That.”

“Well. Away to it now?” he says, giddy with everything. Oh god, he’s going to get married.

“I suppose, yeah.” Harry replies, beaming and holding back what looks to be a sob.

*

Louis thinks it’s a good thing Harry saved him from getting on the plane, because Anne may have had a heart attack, otherwise.

He changes into his suit, trying not to laugh as he hears her scream at Harry for the millionth time since they came back. Apparently, Harry hadn’t alerted anyone of his departure, causing her to go completely batshit on him once he came back.

She had been easy on Louis though, just telling him where his suit was and instructing him to get changed as quick as possible. He stares at himself in the mirror as he does his tie, trying to understand how all of this happened. Three days ago, his whole life consisted of his job, and now he’s getting married, somehow. He probably should be freaking out right now, but the idea of going back to New York married to Harry is a lot less scary than going back to England alone.

There’s a knock on the door. “Ready, darling?” Harry’s grandma calls.

“As I’ll ever be.” he replies, opening the door for her.

She lights up as soon as she sees him. “You look lovely, doll.”

He blushes.“Thank you, really.”

He sees Gemma poke her head in the room, wanting to talk.

“Hi, Gemma.” he says.

“Hi, Louis. Mind if I speak to him privately, grandma?” she asks.

Harry’s grandma looks between them, beaming. “Of course. See you at the wedding.”

As soon as she shuts the door, Gemma is on him.

“Harry told me what happened.” she says.

“Oh.” he replies, swallowing nervously.

“Listen, Louis, I like you. But if you ever pull something like that again, I’ll chop your balls off.”

Louis squeaks. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

Gemma smiles, relieved.

“Good. Glad we have an understanding.”

Louis can only nod, making a mental note never to get on Gemma’s bad side, ever.

*

The weather is surprisingly warm, for Alaska. Louis didn’t even know they had summer here. And the barn turns out to be quite nice, after all.

Harry’s family had it all decorated with lights and flowers, and it turned out rather lovely. Louis has no idea how they did it on such short notice, but he guesses that’s just one of the benefits of having lots and lots of money.

Liam, from immigration, is there, checking up on them. Louis keeps flashing smiles at him, accentuating how happy he is. The best part is that he’s not even exaggerating that much. He finds himself smiling all afternoon, unable to keep it off his face.

As it turns out, Niall is the local Pastor as well, and he stands up at the altar with Louis as they wait for Harry. Louis’ leg keeps twitching, and he wills it to stop before someone notices how nervous he actually is.

And then Harry is standing there at the end of the aisle, his mum holding his arm, and Louis freezes. If he had any doubts about whether this was the right thing to do or not, they all vanish in that moment.

Harry walks down the aisle then, coming up to stand beside him, giving him a nervous grin to which he returns.

Throughout the whole ceremony, Louis can’t stop feeling like he has to pinch himself to prove that this is real. A part of him is still screaming at him to run, but he knows not to listen to it, now.

They hadn’t had much time to prepare, so the vows are just standard. They exchange rings, simple golden ones that Anne had gotten for them on short notice. Then Niall is pronouncing them man and man, and then they’re kissing, and then Louis is married.

It all happens so quickly, that Louis barely has time to notice Anne wiping at her tears in the front row, and Harry holding back a few of his own.

And if Louis sheds a couple tears of his own but wipes them away immediately as they walk down the aisle, hand in hand, then no one has to know.

*

“I remember the first time I saw young Harold here.” Louis says, holding his up champagne.

Harry groans. “Came to the interview 20 minutes early, bless 'em. Who wouldn’t hire him?”

Anne titters as Harry shoves his face into his arms, leaning over the table.

The reception was being held outside, tables set up in Harry’s backyard, which was the size of a small country. Harry’s family had gone all out, decorations, lights, and even a DJ. Who turned out to be Niall, so.

“Anyway, he was the best assistant I could ask for. However, his tea fetching skills are nothing to the kind of man he is. Let’s just say I would not be where I am today, if it weren’t for him.”

Harry giggles, swallowing his champagne. “Literally.”

Louis elbows him. “He’s an amazing guy, and I can’t even tell you how grateful I am that he’s in my life. I just hope he knows it.”

Harry beams at him as he sits down to the loud applause. He’s glad people are clapping, because he had made the entire speech up on the spot. It looks like winging it had worked once again for Louis though, because the speech had been more truthful and honest than he would like to admit.

“I do know, just saying.” Harry whispers in his ear, leaning over.

Louis blushes, but then Harry nibbles a tiny bit on his ear and he jumps, swatting his head away.

“Bastard.” says Louis to him, fondly.

*

After eating his entire weight in food and wedding cake, he and Harry make their way over to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. Actually, it’s their first dance ever, but who’s counting.

They’re both more than a little tipsy, so the dance turns into Louis grabbing Harry’s hand and spinning him around, like a ballerina. They giggle to each other, and Louis has no idea how this is his life. That he’s messing about on the dance floor with the most gorgeous, kind, perfect guy ever. And that this guy thinks the same about him. Because he never doubted how Harry feels about him. His eyes practically twinkle when he looks at him, for fucks sake.

At the end of the dance, before Louis even knows what’s happening, Harry is pecking him on the lips. Harry pulls back for a second, looking surprised at himself and cheeks flushing pink, before Louis grins and pulls him forward to plant another kiss on lips.

Harry beams at him, lips cherry red and eyes completely lit up, and Louis thinks, okay.

*

It’s not until they’re back at their room, staring at the condom and lube left by someone (hopefully not Anne, but.) on their bed, that Louis realizes that it’s their wedding night, and traditionally, they should be fucking.

“Oh, god.” Harry groans, shoving his face into his palms. “You can just ignore that, if you’d like. I bet it was Gemma, that little shit.”

“No, I,” Louis responds, ignoring the fact that it’s a bit disturbing that Harry’s sister bought him lube. “I think I want to, you know,”

Harry looks up from his hands, eyes wide. “Really?”

Louis wills himself not to turn red. “Well, if you do. I know, it’s a bit rushed, but we are -”

“No, I want.” Harry says, cutting him off and then blushing promptly afterwards. “I want to, too.”

“Yeah?” Louis breathes out. Harry doesn’t reply, choosing instead to plant his mouth on Louis, kissing him like he might die, otherwise.

Louis isn’t objecting. It’s just, it’s been so long since he’s slept with someone, and now he has this gorgeous boy all to himself, who wants him just as badly as he does, and he has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t a dream.

“I want, fuck.” Harry mumbles into his mouth, hands roaming down his back, clawing at it.

“What?” Louis says breathlessly, feeling Harry’s hands lift up his shirt and pull it off. Harry takes a step back, pulling off his own shirt and then climbing on the bed, dragging Louis with him.

“I want you, I want to do everything with you,” Harry murmurs, and Louis feels his dick twitch in his pants.

Louis threads his hands through Harry's hair, pulling him closer and kissing him hard until he has to come up for breath. It’s terrifying, how much Harry seems to need him. What’s even worse is how badly he needs Harry as well. A couple of days ago, Harry was nothing more than his assistant, and now, and now,

“I, do you think,” Harry says, and Louis can hear the tremble in his breath. “Could you fuck me?”

“Shit, Harry,” he says. He has no idea how Harry can just say things like that, and not die. “Yeah, yeah.”

And then Harry is popping the button on Louis' trousers, pulling them off, and doing the same to himself until they’re both in their pants, sweaty, and so, so turned on.

Louis grinds down into him once, and it’s so good that Louis thinks he could come from this, just rubbing off against Harry in nothing but his pants. Harry’s hands come around to grip at his bum, kneading and squeezing at it, and Louis has to bite back a moan.

“God, Louis. Your ass.” Harry says, staring at it almost like it’s a meal he’s about to devour.

Louis can’t even think of a reply to that, because Harry’s cock keeps rubbing back and forth against the sensitive skin past his balls and it occurs to Louis that if they were wearing less clothes, Harry could be fucking him.

He moans softly, filling that image away for another time in his head, and gets back to the situation at hand. Him fucking Harry. He can do that, he thinks.

“Off,” he mumbles, pulling at Harry’s pants. Harry just looks up at him, eyes wide and glazed over, and fuck.

“You, too,” Harry murmurs, mouthing at his neck. Louis complies, tugging them off as quickly as possible, and then they are both naked.

“Fucking hell,” says Louis, looking at Harry’s cock. The image of Harry fucking him might be just that - an image - after he’s seen the size of Harry’s dick. For a long time, anyways.

Harry just grins at him, blinking slowly and looking blissed out. Fuck, Louis hasn’t even done anything to him yet, and he’s already like this.

He’s not sure how longer he can keep this up, so he reaches over for the lube by the pillow, ignoring that it’s strawberry flavoured (really?).

He quickly coats his fingers, and pauses, looking at Harry.

“Have you, I mean.” he says. “Have you done this before?”

Louis has, and he thinks Harry probably has too, judging by the way he's acting, but he needs to be sure.

“Yeah, just,” Harry says, nodding and staring at his fingers. “Just do it already.”

“Needy, aren’t you?” Louis says, voice teasing.

“You have no idea.” Harry says, quite seriously. “No idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you for so long,”

Louis flushes. “Christ, Harry. How long?”

“Forever, practically.” he breathes. "Wanted you forever, Lou, ever since I saw you,"

Bloody fucking hell.

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, reaching down and rubbing a finger lightly around his rim.

Harry gasps, squirming a little. “Lou, your finger, please.”

Harry hasn’t done this in awhile, he can tell, because he’s unbelievably tight. Harry’s eyes squeeze closed as Louis presses his finger further inside and his hand comes over to grip Louis’. Louis rubs his hand softly with his thumb, and focuses on opening up Harry with his other hand.

It’s not long until Louis has three fingers inside him, Harry letting out little gasps and breathy moans every so often.

He looks so pretty, being opened up on his fingers, that Louis can’t help but lean down and kiss the moans right off his lips.

“Ah,” Harry whimpers into his mouth. “Gonna fuck me now?”

“Not yet,” responds Louis, even though his cock is begging him to just do it already. “You’re not ready yet.”

Harry is determined, though, because he begins riding up against his fingers, fucking himself on them. “Please, please, please,”

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t think either one of them is going to last much longer if they keep doing this. “Okay, fuck, Harry.”

He reaches over to grab the condom and roll it on, and when he looks back at Harry, he has two fingers inside himself, staring hungrily at Louis.

“You’re going to kill me, you know that.” Louis breathes out, slicking himself with lube.

Harry whines. “Just get in me already.”

And, well, there’s no saying no to that. Louis grabs Harry’s thighs, pushing them up towards his chest and then grabbing the base of his dick and rubbing it against where Harry’s fingers are inside of him. Harry quickly pulls his fingers out then, taking Louis’ cock into his hand and guiding it inside himself.

He feels so good around him, so tight, that Louis can't even think properly.

“God, Harry,” Louis chokes out, because, fuck. “You’re so fucking tight, I can’t. I’m hurting you.”

“Not hurting me,” Harry argues. “Feels good, feels so good, Lou,”

Harry hands are pressing at Louis’ bum now, as if he’s trying to push him further inside of him.

It’s all too much, he’s going to come too soon, but Harry is relentless, begging him over and over again to fuck him, properly.

Louis gives up on trying to control himself then, slowly pulling out and then pushing back in, staying there for a bit, pushing Harry up the bed.

“You, god. Love your cock, Lou.” Harry moans, like he’s not even aware of what he’s saying anymore.

Louis loses it then, pulling out and pushing into him roughly, trying to create some semblance of a rhythm but most likely failing. Harry, however, doesn’t have any complaints, by the looks of it. He kind of looks like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than in this bed with Louis inside him. His mouth is slightly open as he stares at Louis, panting his name over and over again.

It makes something in Louis snap, gripping Harry’s legs and throwing them over his shoulders, making him feel even tighter.

“There, oh god,” Harry gasps, grabbing his ass and holding him where he is for a second.

Louis focuses the rest of his thrusts after that to hit the same spot, Harry whining underneath him every time he does. He’s going to come soon, he can tell, so he wraps a hand around Harry and starts to jack him off so he can come before him.

“Look at you,” Louis pants. “You’re so, so,”

Harry groans, like Louis’ words are getting to him already, and he hasn’t even said anything yet.

“So pretty, Harry. Look so good when you’re desperate for my cock.”

“Oh, fuck.” Harry gasps out, and then he’s coming.

"Yeah, yeah.” Louis grunts, pushing inside Harry harder and quicker now, chasing his own orgasm.

“Come on,” Harry says, breathing heavily.

Louis’s hands move to pin down Harry’s hips into the mattress, pounding into him and looking at the place where his cock is disappearing into Harry. It’s obscene, how Harry just takes his cock even after he’s come, just laying there looking up at him, completely wrecked.

“Mine.” Louis grunts, and then he’s coming, spilling inside the condom.

He stays inside Harry for a bit, fitting in a few more slow, lazy thrusts, and then he’s pulling out and flopping on the bed beside him.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling off the condom and throwing it in the garbage beside the bed. Harry doesn’t reply, just rolling over and collapsing on him. Louis sincerally hopes Harry didn't hear what he said when he came, because, embarrassing.

“Yours,” he whispers, eyes squinting a little in the cutest possible way. Louis guesses he did hear him, then. It's not as embarrassing as he thought, though.

“Hi, love.” Louis replies, petting at his hair.

“‘m tired.” Harry says, sounding half asleep already.

Louis figures they can take showers in the morning. “Go to sleep, then.”

Harry doesn’t reply, because he’s already out like a light.

Louis lays awake for a bit longer though, watching Harry. It’s not creepy, because they’re married, he reasons. Louis stares at him fondly as he mumbles a little in his sleep, furrowing his brow.

“Lou,” Harry mumbles, and Louis’ breath hitches. He’s listening intently, waiting to hear if he says anything else revealing, when Harry’s mouth opens and he lets out a loud snore, making Louis giggle in spite of himself.

If he thinks about it, he’s sort of glad made that dumb trip to Ibiza and didn’t sign those papers on time, because this happened because of it. And laying here, in a bed in Alaska, with the sun still streaming in through the window and Harry fast asleep on his chest, he lets himself believe, for the first time, that things are going to be okay.

*

“Harry. Harry, please, if I have to interrupt you one more time, I’m going to fail you.”

Louis sighs, watching as Harry apologizes to Liam, from the room he’s waiting in. He’d done his interview with immigration already, and passed with flying colours. Harry however, was struggling a bit more. It’s not that he didn’t know enough about Louis, it’s just that,

“He’s 1/8th Belgian, you know. I’m probably one of the only people who know that about him, aside from his family.”

Liam sighs. “Okay, Harry. What is Louis’ favourite sport?”

Harry gasps, his eyes lighting up. “Soccer, obviously! Or football, he probably said football. That’s what they call it in England, where he’s from. Doncaster, to be more specific. Anyways, you’ve got to see him play, Liam. He’s so good. Once, for a charity event at work, we all played this game, and he was amazing. I was shit, compared to him, although he did teach me how to do a few tricks. I’m his biggest fan, really.”

“Okay,” Liam says, writing something down. “I think that’ll be enough.”

“No, wait!” Harry says, pouting a little. “I’ve hardly told you anything about him! Did he tell you he surfs? He went to Australia one time, and he showed us pictures of him surfing and told me all about it, ‘cause I was so interested. Mostly I just wanted to see more pictures of him in a wetsuit, but I liked hearing him talk about it as well.”

“Harry, please,”

“I just like hearing him talk all the time.” Harry blabbers on. “He has the cutest accent, I keep telling him-”

“Okay, you’ve passed. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

Harry beams, thanking Liam and shaking his hand.

He steps outside the office to where Louis is, embracing him in a tight hug right away.

“I did it!” he says, grinning.

“You are a complete idiot, Harry Styles.”

“Heyy,” Harry says, pouting. “That’s Harry Tomlinson, to you.”

“Oh, you’re right. I forgot.” says Louis.

“I’m always right.” replies Harry, grinning.

“You’re the worst husband ever.” Louis replies. “I want a divorce.”

“You love me.” Harry says, smiling, and Louis thinks, a bit, maybe, yeah.