Harry Styles Imagines/Blurbs

3am Laundry

You held the door open as Harry trundled in, his large sack of laundry hitched on his back. The neon light on the window of the laundromat boasted a 24-hour service and cast a pink glow across the tiled floor, florescents taking over the rest of the room and lighting the rows of washers and dryers. It was almost eerily quiet with no machines running, save the tinny overhead trickling an oldies station, but you figured not many people would be out washing clothes at this hour.

Harry settled on a washer somewhere towards the middle and reached in his back pocket for the coins he had stowed there. It wasn't like he really needed to go wash his clothes at a random laundromat at 3am, but you knew it was nice to get away from the fray and feel normal every once and a while.

You hopped on top of a nearby machine as he began sifting through his laundry.

"Do you really separate lights and darks?" you questioned skeptically.

He paused, looking up at you with furrowed brows that insinuated your insanity. "Of course. Do you not?"

You returned his expression. "Uh, no," you mocked disbelief. "You should try just throwing them all together, it's way easier."

 "You can't just throw them together," he chided, his face unable to keep a cheeky smile away as he reached back down to continue sorting.

You laughed, knowing his fondness of his wardrobe and desperate need to do things the "right way."

"Remind me never to get you to do my laundry," he said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.

"Fine by me," you raised your hands in play defense, and it made you both chuckle quietly.

After he'd finished sorting his clothes, he popped them into different washers and started the cycles, then hopped up on the machine opposite of you. His hands cupped the edge of the washer as he leaned forward a bit.

"So tell me about that project you finished last week," he prompted, eyes showing genuine curiosity about how things were going in your world. You liked that about him, liked how he was so invested in what you were doing and how obvious it was that he really, truly wanted to know. Just when you'd think you'd overshared a bit too many boring details, he'd question further and prompt you to continue. It probably shouldn't have surprised you after this long, but it still did-- just proving again that he really did miss talking with you at the end of the day-- boring details and all-- while he was on tour. There's just something about talking and musing and hashing things out that bonds people together and pulls them closer. And you could tell he felt that-- felt that if he knew about the frustrating coffee maker at work and the dramatic sighs of Jerry down the hall and all the big and small things in between, that he could know you better, see better into your life, care more deeply for you even in the mundane things. He'd just want to know, you know?

And so you told him, loving the way you could see his giggles and furrowed brows and fingers absentmindedly playing with his lips as he listened. Talking on the phone just wasn't the same as being able to enjoy all that.

The buzz of the washing machines signaling their finish came quicker than you'd expected, the last forty five minutes merely brushing the surface of all that was happening in your life (especially since Harry kept asking questions about every little thing). So you continued on about your neighbor's Pomeranian, Jenny, as he switched his clothes from washer to dryer and chuckled at your playful anecdotes about the little ball of fluff. 

As he slammed the last dryer door closed, he made a punny quip about the dog, which only managed to incite an amused groan out of your mouth as he made his way over to you.

"Whaat?" he tried indignance, but his dimples betrayed his facade. You merely chuckled in respond as his hands found the cool metal on each side of your thighs and he leaned his weight there.

You smiled at him for a moment, enjoying the way his eyes were dancing from his attempted humor. He didn't seem to mind the playful eye contact, though it did prompt a giggle in his throat as he looked down at your lap. Your hands found the sides of his head as you giggled too.

"I'm so glad I'm here," you chuckled out, not sure if your quiet giddiness was from being with Harry again or simply because it was so late and you were a bit buzzed on jetlag.

"I'm so glad you're here too," he agreed, looking up at you again and plopping a kiss on your nose. Your hands found their way down to his neck and you leaned forward just a bit, your lips easily meeting his. His hands moved from their casual place on the washer to catch your hips as he kissed you back. You tried to hold in your smile as best you could, knowing that if you broke you'd both be in a puddle of giggles for no particular reason. You moved your hands down his arms as he pressed in closer, only to pause mid-kiss as your fingers squeezed at his biceps.

"Harry..." you started, feeling his arms up and trying desperately hard not to laugh.

"What?" he mumbled against your lips, still mostly thinking about the way you felt so close to him and wondering why on earth you were still all of the sudden.

"You're arms are huge," you chuckled quietly. He couldn't help but join in, a chuckle exhaling out of his lips as he smiled against yours.

"So?" he asked, his voice a wonderful mix of husky and playful as he kept dotting the corners of your mouth with kisses.

"I don't know, I just..." you giggled, still poking and prodding, "I just wasn't expecting such a difference."

He leaned back, his eyes showing the best kind of playful annoyance at you for both your childish observations and ignoring of his kisses.

"And..." he prompted with raised eyebrows.

"Nothing, I was just noticing," you giggled a bit bashfully as he rolled his eyes, a cheeky grin unable to contain itself on his face. He shook his head at your silliness as he jumped up on to the washer next to you.

"So Jenny..." he nodded in prompt, his shoulder nudging yours.

You giggled quietly at his smirk, before continuing on your bumbles from before. You loved just how easy it was to go from romantic to teasing, lovers to best friends. Because with Harry, there wasn't really a line in between, it was just sort of both all the time. And being in love with your best friend was perhaps the best thing you'd ever experienced. Maybe even better than the feeling of pulling on a fresh jumper, right out of the dryer.