i 0d2125e00f277ca8 (92 page)

shut behind him.

“Shut up and get in the car,” Stan says, unlocking the car and ignoring

the question completely. “You‟ll thank me later.”

Louis rolls his eyes but complies, sliding into the backseat next to

Harry while Stan starts the car.

“Hello, Harry,” Stan says, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Hello, Stan,” Harry replies.

Stan puts the car in drive but doesn‟t let his foot off the brake just yet.

Instead he holds Harry‟s eyes in the mirror and says, quite casually,

“Bugger off like that again and I‟ll put you in the ground.”

609

Harry nods. “Duly noted.”

“Cheers,” Stan says, and he pulls away from the curb.

“If you‟re done threatening my boyfriend,” Louis says, “would you

mind telling me where the hell you‟re taking us?”

“It‟s a surprise,” Stan says, and Louis groans, but he knows Stan and he

knows that‟s all he‟s going to get out of him until he‟s ready to say

more. He doesn‟t say anything else for the rest of the drive except to

comment on the weather or the traffic, until finally they pull into a

carpark in front of a block of flats and Stan stops the car.

He reaches down and removes a key from his keyring, then turns

around and holds it out to Louis.

“I hope you realise that I am the best friend on the entire fucking planet

right now,” Stan says.

“Stan, what the fuck are you on about?” Louis says.

Stan shoves the key into his hand. “Number 102. It‟s my flat.”

“What—”

“I‟ll be back in three hours,” Stan says. “Wash the fucking sheets, you

animals.”

Louis stares at him. “You‟ve got to be joking. We can‟t—”

“Sure we can, Lou,” Harry says, already opening his door and jumping

out of the car like he‟s on fire, and Louis gets one last fleeting glimpse

of Stan winking at him before he‟s yanked bodily out into the carpark.

610

Harry ducks his head back in to thank Stan, and then he shuts the door

behind him and Stan pulls away.

Louis tries to argue, because it feels like he should, but if he‟s honest

his heart really isn‟t in it, and mostly he just wants to have sex with

Harry again, whatever that takes.

So they find Stan‟s flat together, and Louis lets them in. Stan lives

alone, and his flat has actually been cleaned to some extent, which is

almost as big of a gesture as Stan offering them his flat in the first

place. There‟s a brand new bottle of lube waiting on the bedside table.

It‟s got a bow on it. Louis does not know what he did to deserve the

people in his life.

Harry just laughs and pulls Louis down with him, and they spend two

very athletic hours in Stan‟s bed making up for the month and a half

they‟ve spent apart. Louis doesn‟t expect either of them to be able to

last long at first since they‟ve both been holding out for so long, but

neither of them wants to come first and they‟re both competitive

enough that it keeps them going. It‟s thorough, and it‟s loud, and it‟s

good, and Louis gets a fistful of Harry‟s hair and gives him something

to remember when he goes back to London.

After the second round and a brief spell of lying comatose on Harry‟s

chest, Louis forces himself out of bed and pulls his boxers back on,

making a mental note to buy Stan something huge and expensive for

his birthday this year. He manages to sweet talk Harry into getting up

so he can pull the sheets off the bed and put them in the washing

machine as requested. Once he‟s set the cycle and shut the lid, he

wanders out into the flat and finds Harry in the kitchen wearing nothing

but his pants. He‟s found the assortment of photos stuck up on Stan‟s

fridge with alphabet letters spelling out obscene words, and he‟s

laughing to himself at the awful, ridiculous pictures of Louis when he

was a teenager. Louis smacks him on the arse for that, and Harry chases

him through the flat, and they rather defeat the point of washing the

sheets when Harry picks him up and puts him on top of the washer and

then sucks him off right there in the middle of the rinse cycle. He

doesn‟t plan on telling Stan about that one.

611

At the end of the three hours, Stan drives them back to Louis‟ house,

making a big show of his martyrdom. “I‟m going to bleach everything

the second I get home,” he says as he comes to a stop. “Everything.”

Harry leans forward into the front and gives Stan a smacking kiss on

the cheek. “You‟re the best, Stan,” he says, and Louis howls with

laughter.

“And now I have to bleach my face, thanks for that,” Stan says. “Lou,

I‟ll see you at Christmas, yeah?” Louis nods, reaching out to ruffle

Stan‟s hair. “You too, right?” he continues, meeting Harry‟s eyes in the

rearview.

Harry nods seriously, and then opens to door to exit the car. Louis

lingers a moment. “You are the best, you know that?” he says.

“I‟m aware,” Stan says. “Now get out of my car,” he says with a smile.

“Love you too,” Louis grins, and then follows Harry out, waving as

Stan pulls away and drives off. They walk hand-in-hand back into the

house, but Harry immediately gets commandeered by the twins. Louis

is pretty sure they‟re in love with him, or at least they‟ve imprinted on

him like ducklings, and the thought fills him with immense satisfaction.

Louis goes to make tea for his mum in the kitchen, and eavesdrops on

their conversation. They‟ve got him reading one of their magazines,

taking some quiz about who their respective boyband soulmates are.

Harry, bless him, seems to be taking it immensely seriously,

interrogating each of them over their answers. Does Phoebe really like

a guy who‟s funny more than a guy who‟s nice? How sure is Daisy that

she‟d rather spend time alone than in a big group?

Louis‟ mum comes up behind him at the kettle, clearly also listening in.

She hugs him from behind, and Louis leans into it as he takes two

teacups out of the cabinet. “He seems like he‟s good for you,” she says

softly.

612

“He is,” Louis says, taking the kettle off the burner as it starts to

whistle. His mum goes to grab teabags, which she puts in the cups

before he pours in the water. “I think I‟m good for him, too.”

His mum smiles, leaning against the counter. “Well,” she says, eyes

only a little watery, “Anyone who makes you say that is welcome here

anytime he likes.”

Louis smiles back, handing her a steaming cup. “Don‟t tell him, will

you? Watching him be terrified of you is hilarious.” They clink their

cups together. “Want to go watch telly?” Louis asks, because some

things don‟t change.

“Love to,” she replies, and they walk upstairs together. Harry seems

perfectly happy where he is, and Louis notes as he walks by that Daisy

has started braiding part of his hair.

Part of him feels like he should be taking advantage of the little time he

has with Harry, but he‟s missed his mum too, and he doesn‟t have the

heart to break up the bonding session happening in the living room. It‟s

good, he thinks, to give Harry some time alone with his family, because

he hopes this is just the beginning of a very, very long arrangement.

He spends half the afternoon with his mum, curled up in her bed, and

he thinks this might be as close to heaven as he‟ll ever get. “You

deserve this, you know that, right?” his mum says at some point, and all

Louis can do is nod around the lump that forms suddenly in his throat.

How do mums do that?

When they go back downstairs to make sure everyone‟s ready to go out

for dinner, Harry is in the kitchen undoing the braid. “You survive

okay?” Louis asks, and Harry nods.

“Yeah, they‟re nice girls.” He makes an unhappy face. “I don‟t know

about those magazines they read, though. They‟re very—I don‟t know,

what if your sisters wanted a celebrity girlfriend instead of a

boyfriend?”

613

Louis goes up on his toes to kiss Harry on the cheek. “You‟re

ridiculous. Also, my sisters will never date anyone because they will be

children forever. Are you packed up? We‟re going straight to the

station from dinner.” Harry nods, and Louis goes to make sure that all

his own stuff is shoved back into his suitcase before he pulls Harry into

the downstairs toilet.

“What are you—“ Harry gets out before Louis drags him down into a

kiss. There‟s only so heated things can get in a tiny room containing a

toilet, but they still make a go of it, Louis‟ hands under Harry‟s shirt

and Harry‟s hands in Louis‟ hair. They break away after a minute,

panting, and only the fact that they wore each other out earlier in the

day is keeping Louis from trying for more. “What was that for?“ Harry

tries again.

“For making my mum happy,” Louis says, smoothing out the collar of

Harry‟s shirt.

“Okay, weird,” Harry says, quirking an eyebrow at him. “But I‟ll take

it.”

Louis pulls him out of the bathroom with a snort, and they grab their

bags from the living room and take them out to the minivan. The girls

and Louis‟ mum are already outside, so once the suitcases are in the

back they all pile in. Lottie sits on Louis‟ lap under much protest, and

the twins are a bit smushed, but they all manage to sort-of fit. They

make their way to the restaurant, the same Italian place that Louis‟

family has been going to for years, and sit down at a long table, sharing

pasta and breadsticks and dessert. It‟s the perfect way to end the

weekend, the chatter of his family and the taste of chocolate and

Harry‟s soft eyes across the table. He and Harry split the bill, and that

feels good, too, doing something nice for his family with the person he

loves.

They pile back into the van, and Louis catches his mum‟s eyes in the

rearview and gives her a grin. She drives them to the train station,

where they all clamber back out again, and Harry gets the bags out of

the boot. Louis gets a hug from all his girls at once, and Harry looks

614

amazed when he gets one too. “My brother is a bit shite, but you‟re

cool, so put up with him, yeah?” Lottie says, smirking at Louis.

“I‟ll try,” Harry says seriously, and then grins up at Louis too, who

sticks his tongue out at them both. Harry looks even more stunned,

though, when Louis‟ mum pulls him into her arms as well.

She says it quietly, but Louis can still hear her soft, “Thank you,” and

has to stare at the ground and scuff his feet to keep from either blushing

or crying or throwing himself at them both.

He hears Harry murmur back, “Thank you,” and that‟s it, this has to be

over now or else he‟s going to make a fool of himself.

“All right!” he chirps brightly. “Time to go. Love you all,” he says,

hugging his mum tightly. “Be good. I‟ll be home for Christmas.”

They wave goodbye as Louis and Harry head into the station. They‟re

catching different trains, Harry back to London and Louis home to

Manchester, but they have a few minutes before they have to part ways.

“So that was... a lot.” Harry says once they get inside. Louis laughs and

nods, squeezing Harry‟s hand in his.

“You were perfect,” Louis says. “They‟re all in love with you. Mum

wants you to come for Christmas.”

Harry grins and blushes, ducking his head. “Can I tell you something?”

he says, and Louis nods. “There‟s a job opening. In Manchester. Some

local magazine needs a photographer. They‟re pretty small, but they do

really cool stuff and they‟ve got a great reputation. I sent my

application in on Thursday. I haven‟t heard back yet, but one of my old

professors knows the editor, and he said he‟d put in a word for me, so

there‟s a strong chance that you‟ll be spending Christmas hols helping

me prep for a job interview.” He grins. “I assume I can crash at yours?”

615

“Hazza, that‟s amazing,” Louis says, kissing him quickly on the lips.

“That‟s—that‟s really, really good. And of course you‟ll stay at mine,

you tit.” He pauses, searching Harry‟s face for a moment. “And you

know that—if you end up needing somewhere to stay that‟s more, you

know, long-term…” he trails off, waiting for Harry to catch on. He

does, and he grins, and Louis grins back because he‟s been wanting to

ask him this for a while now, but he‟s never quite known when was the

right time. It‟s a big step, but Harry‟s looking at him like it‟s the easiest

decision he‟s ever made.

“That‟s my plan, if you‟ll have me,” Harry says.

“Of course I‟ll have you, you shit, like I‟d let you waste money on rent

for a separate flat,” Louis says, laughing. He wraps his hand around the