"Babe, would you do that thing that you do that I like?" Harry's smile was warm and soft, the epitome Louis's favorite sleepy smile that he got to see almost every morning.
"You really have a way with words, love" Louis replied gently, his voice thick with sleep. He rubbed his fingers through Harry's hair, gently massaging his scalp and caressing the rough skin of his cheek. His hair was way too short now, and he had told him one too many times that he needed to grow it out again. He missed those long curly locks. He also noticed that Harry's cheeks were getting a little scruffy. Because he was growing up now. He wasn't 16 anymore. He tugged on the hairs and Harry batted his hand away.
"That hurts, you know." Harry muttered, but Louis ignored it with a smirk. He preferred to relish in the mornings with Harry instead of disrupting them with conversation. Because mornings with Harry smelled like soft leather and red wine, and they felt like sunshine and butterfly kisses. Louis smiled despite the pain in his temples, remembering the night before, how he had kissed the wine from Harry's lips and peeled the shirt off his back.
His smile quickly turned into a grimace when he cracked opened his eyes, the light from the kitchenette sent a spark of pain through his head and woke whatever it was that was pounding on his skull. He snapped his eyes shut again. Harry grunted when Louis stopped massaging his scalp, so Louis sank down into the comfort of the hotel bed. He wished they were in their own flat in London, and not in some hotel in Chicago. He would have been bitter if it wasn't for Harry. He was like the siphon that seeped all of Louis's bitterness away.
"Lou?" Harry asked, his voice bounced off the walls of his skull.
"Hm?" He hummed in response, silently hoping he would stop talking.
"Are you having one of those headaches again?" Louis peeled open one eye to see Harry's silhouette shadowing over him. Louis nestled his head into the soft cotton pillowcase.
"'S'alright, love. I think I'm just hungover." Louis mumbled. Because that was easier than making Harry worry. It was easier than facing the fact that he thought there was something wrong with him.
"We only had half a bottle." Harry said gently, pressing his palm to Louis's forehead. He realized that Harry must have been checking for a fever, and he couldn't help but smile to himself.
"'M tired." Louis grunted.
"I'll get you some Tylenol and something to eat." Harry replied. The bed shifted before Louis could get a response out, and then Harry's lips were touching his forehead before socked feet on carpet walked away. Louis sank into the soft mattress with Harry's absence, the white duvet engulfed him in a gentle white cloud as he waited for his beloved to return. The morning was warm and soft, it was almost too good to be true. But he had flown in so late from his own show that he was still so exhausted. He didn't want to move. The night before, Louis had arrived just after Harry's show ended, and they always stayed up with a good bottle of red until Harry's after show high wore off.
"You're too good to me." Louis said when Harry returned, taking the toast from his hand.
"Never, darling." Harry replied simply and flopped down on the bed. Louis's features contorted into a grimace when his head was knocked into the back of the headboard. He sat up and nibbled on the bread, lightly covered in butter and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. "What do you want to do today?"
"This." Louis replied around his toast.
"Eat toast? Don't think we have enough bread to eat toast all day." Harry replied, his voice muffled by the sheets. His head popped up in a swirl of dark brown curls and he propped his chin on his palm. He was looking at Louis with those soft green eyes again, god he hated when he looked at him like that.
"Oh, shove off." Louis replied, shoving him weakly. "My head hurts too much to do anything. Jus' wanna lay here with you."
"Sure babe." Harry said. He situated himself to sit next to Louis, his head rested on the top of the headboard and his eyes closed. "How long has this one lasted?"
"'M not sure. A week or more." Louis replied, setting the toast aside and curling up next to his lover. Harry obviously hadn't believed his hangover excuse and there was no point in arguing anymore. Both of them were too stubborn to let it go, and Louis liked to let Harry win every now and then. "When've you got your next show?"
"Tomorrow. I've got to get to the plane late tonight."
"I'll come with you." Louis murmured. He nestled into Harry's side, breathed in his morning scent, relished in the warmth of his skin.
"You've got a radio interview today." Harry said, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing Louis's back. What he would do to wake up like this every morning.
"I'll tell them I'm sick. I can't make it. I don't want to go." Louis replied, balling the duvet in his fist and pulling it up to his chin.
"You don't have to skip the interview for my show, darling." Harry said. "Wouldn't Sam be mad if you skipped another interview?" Louis sighed
"I don't give a damn about what Sam says. Anyway 'm not skipping it for you. 'M sick." Louis's words were beginning to slur together as his mind began to drift. He had hoped that the relief of sleep may dull the ache in his head. He withheld a yawn and glanced up at Harry, making sure to bat his eyelashes a little bit. He knew Harry's weaknesses, and this was one that he didn't often pull out too often.
"Don't look at me like that, Lou. Seriously." He huffed. "Fine, but I don't want to hear you complain about getting your ass chewed later then." Harry said. Louis gave a soft 'hmmph' and wrapped his arm around Harry's middle, and laid his head on Harry's chest.
"You'd like to chew my ass wouldn't you?" He mumbled. But he never heard what Harry said after that, his exhaustion was too devastating.
He was woken up a couple of hours later when Harry had to wee. To be fair, Harry had tried not to wake him, or at least he had said as much, but Louis wasn't so convinced. But he didn't mind the view at all. Harry only wore a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts. So, he was able to watch the muscles in his back flex and contract as he walked away.
The pounding in his head had subsided only minimally, but it was enough so that the sunlight didn't pierce his brain when he opened the drapes. And he was able to move without his limbs throbbing. He didn't remember being too over the top last night, so he wasn't sure what he could have done to make his muscles feel so heavy.
"Are you sure you want to skip and come with me?" Harry asked when he had re-entered the room. Louis rubbed the back of his neck, trying to subtly loosen some of the tightness he held there.
"Yes, mum." Louis said, rolling his eyes. Harry only shook his head and began to rummage through one of his bags.
"Im a fit mum though, aren't I?" Harry rose an eyebrow. He had obviously caught Louis not-so-subtly checking him out. But that was his husband after all. He was allowed to check out his other half as much as he pleased.
As it turned out, the pandemic was a blessing in disguise when it came to concealment. Louis was able to easily hide his face with a mask and a pair of sunglasses, especially if he paired it with an upturned hood to cover his hair. The likelihood of anyone spotting them board the plane to begin with was low, but the fans always seemed to have a way of finding him. His headache had faded into a dull ache now, so it was a tad more tolerable but still there. He sighed.
He dressed himself in one of Harry's oversized hoodies. It was massive on Harry which only meant it was even bigger on him. But it was one of his favorites. The hem fell to his mid-thigh, and he had to roll up the sleeves. It was an ugly faded green color, and it might have been an old Greenbay Packers hoodie now that he thought about it. The logo was beyond faded and it made it hard to tell, but if he remembered correctly... he just liked that it was soft because it had been washed one too many times, and it smelled like Harry. That was his favorite part.
"You ready?" Harry called from the other room. Louis glanced at himself once more, tried to ignore the bags under his eyes, and headed toward the door. Their bags were set on the floor and Harry was typing on his phone, waiting for him.
"What d'ya think? Would you be able to tell it was me?" Louis asked, pulling his mask up and sunglasses down.
"Always, boo." Harry kissed his head and took Louis's fingers in his own.
"Why do you still call me that?" Louis groaned.
"It's cute! It suits you." Harry replied.
"Oi, I'm not cute. Little kids are cute. I'm handsome, rugged, or...fit would do too."
"Oh yeah, Lou. You're the most rugged man I know that wears a face mask with daisies on it." Louis pulled the mask off and examined it. Sure enough, it was a baby blue mask with white daisies. He cursed under his breath, this was definitely something he should have noticed before.
"I'm pretty sure this is yours." Louis eyed him, but Harry just rolled his eyes.
"You're the one wearing it." He pointed out.
"Okay, aren't we on a schedule? Let's get a move on." Louis said, but he didn't miss the smirk on Harry's lips.
"One more thing." Harry wet the tip of his thumb and raised Louis's hand to his eyes. Then, he rubbed away at the small 'E' placed between this thumb and forefinger. "We can get rid of this now."
Louis's lips turned slightly upward at the notion; he always felt a twinge of pride every time Harry did something so confidently. It reminded him of that shy sixteen-year-old kid he had met all those years ago, he would like to think he was somewhat responsible for helping him out of that shell. The once prominent 'E' on his hand disappeared after a couple swipes from Harry's thumb.
"Are you going to do that every time?" Louis asked. Harry glanced at him through his lashes, his green eyes alight with fire. Something in Louis's in his heart twisted, and his stomach was as light as air. He was drowning himself in his love for Harry, and he wasn't planning on swimming anytime soon.
"Every time. Let's go." Harry didn't let go of his hand until it was time to grab their luggage. They stalked down the halls of the hotel, and Louis secured his disguise before they stepped onto the elevator and made their descent.
His manager was not pleased that he decided to skip the interview, but he decided that he just didn't care. It was hard to care when his head hurt so much and he finally had someone who would take care of him. Even when he would never tell him he wanted it. It was an easy decision to make when his head was pounding and he was so congested that he felt like his brain was just going to ooze out of his ears, though. He also learned to appreciate the sunglasses, too. The lights in the lobby pierced his skull even with them. He didn't want to know how it would feel without them. He slid out of the side door and waited for the car to pick him up.
Louis laid his head on Harry's shoulder, trying to swallow the bile in his throat from the nausea that tagged along with the worse headaches. He swore he could taste that small bit of toast he had managed earlier. His stomach groaned and everything in his gut was a hurricane, just a ticking time bomb before it all came spewing out.
"Lou, are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked softly. He opened his eyes, the lights of the airport runway ran together in one red and yellow line when he sat up. He must have dozed off on the drive over. He rolled his head on his shoulders and rubbed his eyes, only to realize he still had his sunglasses on and his fingers rammed right into the lenses. He cursed under his breath and tossed the sunglasses in his lap and rubbed his eyes.
"'M just tired, love." Louis replied.
"Your head?" Harry asked as the car pulled to a stop. Louis just nodded.
"Must be from this week," he grumbled. He had had a long week after all. Interviews, shows and recording studios took up all of his free time, and if he had any extra, he tried to use it to call Harry. Sleep did not often fit his agenda. But it was worth it, he wouldn't change a thing. Dazed and only half awake, he walked alongside Harry up the steps to the jet.
"You've had plenty of busy weeks before this last one and you've never had headaches this bad." Harry pointed out. Louis refrained from rolling his eyes. He was a lot older now than he was when they were in the band.
"Yeah, well I'm not 18 anymore, am I?" Louis remarked. There was a brief moment of silence before either of them spoke again. Louis was very aware that they weren't the only two on the plane, Harry's manager and band had to share the flight with them. This was not a conversation he would have liked to have in the presence of other people, but he didn't see himself getting out of it any time soon. He was finally able to rid himself of his poor disguise though, and he threw the mask on the seat beside him and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Lou, I'm just worried that-"
"Harry, would you just drop it?" Louis cut him off harshly, his hands gestured to their many onlookers. A frown settled on Harry's lips and he turned to look out of the window. He regretted snapping at Harry almost as soon as he had done it, but he didn't want to talk it about it here and now. Even so, Louis couldn't help but feel annoyed at Harry's irritation. He had every right to not want to talk about this in front of the entire flight. It was his own personal life, and so much of that was already broadcasted to the world that he would like to have some of it to himself. He didn't know if there were ears on the flight, and even if there weren't, he didn't need the next big head line to be broadcasting a private conversation. Despite his irritation, he still let his hand rest atop Harry's open palm on the armrest. He knew that Harry was just worried about him, and it took him so long at the beginning of their relationship to accept that in the first place, but he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't need to be taken care of, he took care of people. That was his only job.
It was a relatively short flight to Denver, and it was spent with minimal conversation much to Louis's delight and dismay. It was frustrating because he didn't get to spend every moment he wanted to with Harry and it was especially irritating that the moments he did get to spend were spent like this. Tense. Argumentative. Irritating. But the ache in his skull was grateful for the silence.
When they landed, their words were still minimal, but Harry still took the time to show him small affections. Their fingers brushed as they walked next to each other, Harry's hand pulled on a loose thread of his hoodie, and he made sure that Louis was still following him if he had wandered a few steps ahead. Louis felt like he was constantly on edge, however. Constantly checking over his shoulder to see if anyone was following them, pulling the sleeves over his hands to cover his distinctive tattoos, and making sure he walked between any two people so that of anyone did happen to be watching, it would be harder to tell it was him.
"Come on then." Harry said after they had settled in their room for the night. Louis would never admit it out loud, but he was a sucker for Harry's clothes. He would live and die in them without admitting that he'd rather wear Harry's clothes than his own. So even though he was practically sweating in the hoodie, he kept it on. He laid in bed with his head in Harry's lap and let him rub his scalp. It was late, almost two in the morning and Louis could barely keep his eyes open.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you." Louis muttered, trying not to grimace at Harry's every touch.
"I'm just worried about you, what you're going through. It doesn't seem normal." Harry responded. His fingers slowed on his scalp, and a small rush of relief came over Louis.
"It's fuckin' miserable to be honest." Louis admitted.
"You need to see a doctor."
"Harry-"
"I'm not asking you, Lou. You can't be miserable like this all the time." Harry said. His words were firm and he meant them, Louis knew that. But he just didn't want to go to the doctors. He was so tired of hospitals and doctors; he was so sure that he had seen enough of them for this lifetime.
"Okay. But it's just a bug or something. I'm okay." Louis tried weakly. He'd never remembered ever feeling like this. So weak and helpless. But he wasn't helpless, he thought. He was just numb with exhaustion. His body was just too tired to move, his limbs too heavy to lift and his eyelids too hard to keep open. He quite literally thought about keeping them open with toothpicks sometimes. His manager was working him too hard, he told himself. That was it. He was being worked too hard and he was getting too old. Getting old sucked. He wished he was 18 again. Harry pressed his palm to Louis's forehead, and he realized he was checking his temperature yet again.
"Tomorrow we should go try some Rocky Mountain oysters." Harry said after a while. Louis, grateful for the subject change, couldn't help but snort in response.
"Do you even know what Rocky Mountain oysters are?" He asked.
"Well, Oysters. Aren't they?" Louis smiled to himself and rolled over to look up at Harry. He wanted to see the expression on his face.
"I adore you, love." He told him. "Even when your horribly, horribly wrong."
"What are they then?" Harry asked. A child. Louis thought. He sounded so much like a child again, or maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He hoped not.
"They're bull testicles."
"Oh." His nose scrunched up in disgust, but he could see the wheels turning in his mind. "Don't you think we ought to try them anyway?"
"I'll tell you what, love. You try them, tell me how they are and I'll eat normal people food." Louis replied.
"You're no fun." Harry rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. "Gotta get some sleep now." He mumbled.
Louis adjusted himself in the bed so they were laying side by side then and wrapped his arm around Harry's middle, burying his nose into the warmth of his back. They whispered soft 'I love you's' before they slept.
A/N: hi friends this was inspired by another fic that I'm not going to name so I won't reveal the ending :) enjoy