In Too Deep (Dancing With The Shadows)

sixteen

Curly H: Do YOU miss our cuddles? Or is that why you're ignoring me.

Curly H: if Louis Tomlinson doesn't reply in the next thirty seconds, it means he's gay.

Curly H: HA! GAYYYYYYY

Curly H: We're more alike than I thought, because same, I am gay but shhhhhhhh

Curly H: I trust you not to show ANYONE our messages mister!

Curly H: I'm seriously debating walking into the house and dragging you out of bed.

Curly H: Am I not that much to you? I see how it is :(

Curly H: wow. I hate you too.

Curly H: I'm joking could never hate you!

Curly H: Alright I'm getting you up, be ready. 

Curly H: I'm coming now, be readyyyyy

"So... You're wanting a blowie?" Louis questions, raising a brow. "Harold, what happened to the first date?" Louis gasps.

Harry groans, slapping his palm to his forehead. "No! Later, but I just want to cuddle." He toes the pebbles in front of his feet, looking timid, shoulders scrunching up to his neck. "I slept better with you with me."

Louis pouts sweetly. "Wait there, doofus." He closes the door, trotting down the stairs and out the door to where he meets Harry in the courtyard. "Hey." He presses a kiss to his lips because he's allowed, and no matter how many times they kiss, he still cannot believe he's genuinely allowed to.

Harry links his hand into Louis', tugging him toward the cottage. "Fucking finally," Harry breathes, closing the door behind him. "I've missed you."

Louis blows air through his nose sharply, amused. "I only left here four hours ago, simp."

Harry nods. "I simp more for you than majority of my fans simp on me, I fear."

"Stalker." Harry hits Louis upside the head at that.

"Just get in bed so I can be little spoon," he decides and Louis doesn't have to be told twice. 

He dives straight into the bed, rolling into the duvet like a burrito, despite the heat outside. Harry crawls in beside him, Louis pulling him flush against his chest, caressing his soft curls. 

"What conditioner do you use?" Louis talks into the back of his head.

Harry snuggles further into Louis' arms, nose against the hand wrapped around his chest. "Some sort of coconut hair food. Does wonders, doesn't it."

Louis nods. "So, you want to sleep?"

Harry whines in his throat. "Talk. I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"Because my thoughts hurt when I sleep," he whispers. 

Louis can relate to that. He pecks the back of Harry's head.  "Better?" he asks, then after a beat says gently, "What do your thoughts say?" He doesn't want Harry to flee, not when he's this close to getting to know the true him and not the big trademark artist everyone sets him out to be. He already gets to know one of his biggest secrets, he doesn't want to make that go in vain. 

"What Jeff would say and do if he found out. Found out about what I did on my time off. He will go straight to the PR and get them to find a beard for me. Some mid forty blonde bitch that doesn't know anything other than breathe," Harry states truthfully, and his voice is laced with pain.