the royal family of the music industry

20. The Man With The Axe

"He said you really need to call him back. I don't know why and I'm really sorry but I think you might actually have to. Like, now." He looks at them apologetically.

"I don't want to talk to Simon while I'm having a boner." Louis says disgustedly and stares at the phone. 

"I don't wanna talk to Simon at all."
Harry mutters and feels his throat getting tighter.

Whenever Simon calls and needs them for something, everything goes to shit.

"I just suppose you'll have to call him back like in the next hour. I'll go fetch some delicious expensive ass breakfast with Ol, Con and Tay now."
Niall tells them and stands up from the mattress, patting Harry's arm goodbye and walking backwards towards the door.

Someday, he just decided that it's too exhausting for him saying their full names. So he uses nicknames all the time.

"Can you believe I am a dad? Tay's the mum and I'm the dad of two grown teenagers without us having sex and without her being pregnant at all."

"Niall you're rambling." Louis reminds him and Niall nods.

"Right, I'll leave ya to it. I'd tell you to greet Simon from me but... don't. I don't like him. Love you two, though. Ciao ragazzas." He lifts is invisible hat.

"It's ragazzi." Harry corrects but Niall just closes the door, blowing them a kiss.

As soon as it's quiet again, Louis drops his head on Harry's chest since he still lays on top of him.

"I don't want to talk to Cowell. I wanna just be here with you and I don't know-" His voice breaks and Harry's heart drops at that. He wraps his arms tightly around Louis and kisses his hair.

"We'll do it together, okay? Let's just get some breakfast first? I'll make pancakes." He wants to get rid of the sad and frustrated state Louis is in right now. So he says ironically, "You know, since you can't cook for good."

"Hey." Louis laughs, lifting his head and looking so fucking adorable Harry could cry.

He pouts, but his eyes smile with crinkles framing them. And above all, he's got his feet crossed in the air and arms folded over Harry's chest like he's laying in a flower field in the summer and not on Harry.

"I can cook. Like, chicken and stuff."

"Chicken and stuff isn't something I would put on a menu." Harry counters.

"You know what I mean. Chicken stu-"

"-ffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mashed potatoes." Harry finishes for him and rolls his eyes fondly.

"Exactly, baby. Now that's restaurant worthy." Louis says approvingly and kisses Harry's nose again.

"But not breakfast worthy."
Harry wants to tell Louis to stand up so they can go downstairs and eat real breakfast, but he decides on just picking him up and holding his laughing boyfriend in his arms as he gets up. Louis wraps his legs around his waist to make it easier for him and grabs the blanket from the bed to wrap it around both of them, keeping them warm in the cold stone walls of the castle.

They manage to get out into the hallway without causing an accident but as they reach the stairs, Louis yelps and entangles his legs from behind Harry's back to jump down onto the floor.

Before Harry can protest, he puts his cold hands under his sweater and his hands graze over Harry's warm hips and back.

"We would both die tragically if you tried to get downstairs carrying me. Love, most of the times you can't manage to not fall over walking alone. I just don't want to hit my head and have my brains all splashed over this carpet, okay? When we're downstairs, you can carry me again."