Louis muffled a tired yawn as he opened his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to adjust to the bright light.
It took a second for the room to come into focus – in his still half asleep state, Louis noted that the curtains were a different colour from what he was usually greeted with in the morning…in fact, he wasn’t even in his own room.
Louis blinked once, twice. No, he definitely wasn’t in his room at home.
Regretfully, he had enough experience waking in strange rooms to know not to panic. All he needed to do was –
“Louis?”
The voice was groggy and husky, and Louis started, looking to his side, where Harry’s curly head poked out of the sheets. The boy was wrapped up in the thick duvet cover like he was in a cocoon and he looked sinfully adorable. I guess that’s why I have no blanket, Louis thought, looking down at his own bare body.
The details of last night began to come rushing back; from Harry’s surprise kiss attack – or was it Louis who kissed Harry? — to stumbling into the room, Harry talking about dinner getting cold…
Louis looked at the younger boy lying beside him. With the light streaming in through the windows and sleep still lingering on Harry’s face, he looked, for lack of a better word,beautiful.
“Hey,” Louis greeted shyly.
“Hi,” Harry mumbled back. His face scrunched as he yawned widely, looking almost like a cat waking up from a nap. “Hi,” Harry repeated, blinking his pretty green eyes.
They smiled at each other stupidly for longer than either of them would admit later, before Harry reached out, casually pulling Louis in for a hug that Louis returned without question, automatically shuffling closer on the bed, till they were pressed up against each other – only a duvet between them. It was secure and comforting; Harry’s nose brushed against Louis’ jaw, and Louis’ hand came to rest on Harry’s shoulder.
They remained like that until they were both fully awake and alert, and even then neither of them dared to move. It was only when Harry shuffled closer that bit more to press his lips softly against Louis’ neck did the silence break.
“Don’t do that,” Louis protested weakly, swatting at Harry’s head. “It tickles.”
“Does it?” Harry murmured, purposely brushing his lips against the sensitive skin once more. Louis fidgeted, struggling to hold in the giggles that were threatening to explode from him. He almost didn’t notice when Harry’s hands drifted to his waist but he certainly didnotice when Harry started digging his fingers into his ribs.
“God, Harry! Stop!” Louis cried through laughter, squirming as he tried to worm away from the laughing Harry. The merciless tickling attack only ended when Louis, in his attempt to get away, rolled onto the floor, groaning as his head came into contact with the carpeted floor.
Harry’s head popped out from above Louis, where he still lay on the bed. “Are you alright?”
“No thanks to you,” Louis grumbled, fighting the smile that threatened to fight its way onto his face. The twitching lips ruined any of the impacted that he wanted to have on Harry, and Louis could see by the twinkle in the younger boys eye exactly how guilty he felt – which was not at all. “But, yes, I’m fine.”
Harry smiled slowly, and for a long second with Louis still lying on the floor and Harry on the bed, they did nothing but stare at each other. Louis was pretty sure that Harry’s face was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen – he wondered if he’d ever get sick of seeing it.
Probably not, he thought, as his stomach began to do flip flops.
“Do you want breakfast?” Harry asked softly, and Louis nodded hastily.
“Yeah, that’d be good,” he nodded easily, sitting up and looking around Harry’s surprisingly tidy room for signs of his clothing.
“Your pants are over there,” Harry grinned as he pulled on a pair of boxers. Just before he ducked out of the room, he added, “And your shirt’s wherever I threw it.”
When Louis had finally managed to gather his various clothing articles in different sections of the room, he walked to the kitchen, finally taking the time to really appreciate Harry’s home, but the smell of food from the kitchen eventually drew him to a smiling Harry plating up eggs on toast.
“I made breakfast,” he stated obviously, shuffling nervously as if awaiting Louis’ judgement.
“It looks amazing,” Louis said, though his eyes did not stray from Harry to the food once. Harry blushed a pretty pink and sat down at the table.
“Are you joining me?” He asked Louis, and Louis wondered why that was even a question – like he could say no to Harry.
“Of course,” He smiled.
It was stupid and girly but Louis couldn’t help but think, as he met Harry’s eye across the table, but this whole thing felt so weirdly right.
