three

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Saturday passes quietly and lonely, mostly boring except for when Harry calls later that night.

"Sleep well last night, after I left?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Good. I hope you didn't mind me carrying you to bed? It just felt wrong to leave you on the couch."

"Oh." Louis hadn't thought about how he got to bed. "I hadn't thought about it. Um, thanks." Usually he's not this awkward talking to other people. Heat does that to him, makes his brain go all fuzzy, especially at the sound of a deep voice on the other end of the line, his mind chanting an endless stream of alpha, alpha, alpha .

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just hard to concentrate." He shivers, wrapping the blankets tighter around himself. Maybe staying in bed all day wasn't a good idea. "And I'm really fucking cold."

"Cold? Is the heating on? Do you have enough blankets?"

"Yes and yes. It's just one of those things."

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to- Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Nah, you're fine. You've done enough already."

"Louis..."

"Aren't you busy?" Oops, that sounded a little rude.

"No, I have nothing tonight." His voice sounds stilted, a little concerned. "Can I come over tonight? We could make pizza? Like, homemade."

By we, Harry means I, and Louis is totally fine with that. Harry makes amazing pizza, with homemade sauce from fresh tomatoes, crust that somehow tastes better than any other crust Louis has ever had before. He sighs. "Only if you make your chocolate-chip cookies too..."

Harry laughs, and agrees.

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