"Wake up, you little buttercup," Louis nudges Harry in the arm. The sleepy boy shifts slightly, but makes no effort to get up so they can eat breakfast. Instead, he pushes his face farther into Louis' chest, still swaddled up in a sea of blankets.
"Don't wanna," he grumbles, nearly inaudible.
"We have to go to school," Louis says, keeping his voice soft and gently running his fingers through Harry's mussed curls.
"Can't we skip it? Stay here instead and just sleep the day away?" His voice is rough and scratchy as he moves his head a fragment to the side so Louis can hear his request better.
Louis smiles to himself at this. He would love nothing more than to do just that, but he knows they can't. His mum is surely wondering why he's not downstairs already with a cup of tea and some buttered toast. It's out of character for him to sleep past his alarm in the first place, but she likely doesn't have the slightest idea Harry's here too.
In his bed.
Stuck to him like a suction cup.
With such red and kissed lips from a late night make-out session. Louis is surprised they aren't bruised black and blue by now.
So, yeah, they can't stay here all day or she'll start poking around and wondering why they're both shirtless in Louis' bed.
"C'mon, love," Louis urges Harry, nudging him for a second time. "We need to find you a shirt so you can go downstairs and say hi to everyone. If they ask any questions, just tell them that you needed a place to sleep and Niall wasn't home."
"I could tell them you offered for me to come over because I'm just that sexy," Harry laughs quietly, lifting his head from Louis' chest to rub his eyes. The morning sun shining through Louis' windows lights up the green in his eyes, making them simply irresistible.
"Whatever you say, you arse."
After a few more moments, Harry completely disengages himself from Louis' touch, leaving Louis lacking Harry's body warmth and cuddles. They get changed into lounge clothes and Harry freshens up in the bathroom a bit before they both walk downstairs.
"Hey, Lou-" Louis' mum startles when she sees the boy with moppy curls sleepily follow Louis into the kitchen. She puts down her tea to squint at him, before recognition flashes across her face and she breaks into a confused but genuine smile.
Louis' sisters, on the other hand, begin to whisper to themselves. Louis would be willing to bet they're confused based on the fact that they've surely seen and talked about how Louis and Harry interact - interacted, past tense - in school. The interactions surely weren't something that would prompt Harry to spend the night in Louis' bedroom.
Louis' mom, however, is somewhat oblivious. "Is that Harry Styles? Why, I haven't seen you in ages!"
"Hello, Mrs. Tomlinson," Harry waves at her warmly, not budging from Louis' side. He keeps space in between them, but little enough that Louis could reach out and brush his fingers against Harry's while still being somewhat discreet. The thought passes his mind, but he doesn't dare budge for such a risky gesture.
"Might I ask what you're doing here? And good morning, of course. Are you hungry? I've made breakfast so please help yourself. Better get some before Louis eats it all," she laughs, sitting down at the table and making it clear she wants Harry to join her and catch her up on the last ten years of his life.
"I'm really sorry for showing up unannounced, but I just needed to get out of my house because of some family issues." Harry's jaw visibly tenses, but he smooths out his features not a second later and continues with a steady voice.
"Normally I stay at Niall's flat, but he was visiting his brother at uni last night. Louis offered to let me stay the night. I really hope that's okay."
Louis' mum purses her lips. "Of course, that's okay, honey. I just haven't seen you in so long, I was so surprised when you walked into the kitchen with Louis. So tell me, what's new in your life? How's school? Have you found a job? Any universities catch your eye for next year? I know some of Louis' friends have coupled up, but Louis hasn't done the same yet. What about you? Have you started dating?"
Louis' mum practically bombards poor Harry with questions, and Louis leaves them to it. He walks over to the stove and grabs two plates from the cabinet, stacking both high with freshly made pancakes and some fruit. He puts butter and syrup on his own, and only syrup for Harry - just the way Harry used to like it when they were kids.
He doesn't dare interrupt their conversation as his mum chats with Harry as if they're old friends. He just hands Harry the plate with a fork and knife before excusing himself to sit with his sisters.
"Louis, since when are you and Harry friends again? Is this a new thing?" Phoebe asks, swallowing her final bite of blueberry pancake.
"Yeah, don't you hate him now? I remember overhearing you call Zayn just a few months ago calling him a dickwad for not sharing his chips with you when all of your friends went bowling together."
"Guys, guys, one at a time," Louis insists, rolling his eyes. "Yes, we're friends again. We both realized grudges aren't meant to be held forever and it wasn't doing us any good to hate one another constantly. Once we got over that, things have been easier."
"Does he still like you?"
Louis almost chokes on his pancakes. "First off, he never liked me, liked me. He just kissed me because he thought that's what people who liked other people did."
"Sounds to me like he liked and likes you. A lot."
"Phoebe, you just need to take my word for it. He's not into me like that,"
"Do you wish he was?"
Louis allows himself to ponder this for a moment or so. Their relationship has exponentially improved since just a month or so ago. And as much as Louis would never admit to it in the light of day, he really enjoys Harry's company.
But on the other hand, Louis craves the idea of someone wanting him. He loves when Harry cuddled him while they slept and how he sought protection from the morning sun in Louis' skin. So yeah, maybe Louis wishes Harry was 'into him like that', but the higher the expectations, the higher the heartache.
Louis has no interest in heartache.
"I don't care one way or another," Louis says, keeping his face neutral and disinterested as he takes a bite of his breakfast. "Plus, since when are you all playing matchmaker?"
"Since forever," Daisy waves her fork around for emphasis. "Do you not remember all of the times we tried to get you a date?"
Louis tries to forget, actually. Especially this one instance where they set him up for a blind date with one of Lottie's hot guy friends. Louis was so stunned at the fact the boy's biceps barely fit into the sleeves of his shirt that he couldn't complete a single sentence without stuttering that night. It was absolutely mortifying.
"Yes, but not fondly. I don't need personal matchmakers." Louis can handle this on his own. Or so he'd like to think, at least.
Louis gets through the rest of his morning conversation with his sisters and cleans his plate. He can't help but glance over to where Harry and his mum are chatting away. His mind goes in a million different directions when trying to guess what they're discussing, before making the executive decision to rescue Harry from his mother's endless rambling.
He walks over to the both of them and places a small tap on Harry's left shoulder. Harry doesn't startle and greets Louis without even having to look up to make sure it's him.
"We should get ready for school. I can drive you there but the bigger challenge is finding a clean uniform that'll fit you."
"Oh, yeah," Harry says, pushing back his chair and picking up his dirty plate. "Mrs. Tomlinson, it was lovely to catch up with you. I promise next time I come over, I'll give you all a heads-up."
"Don't worry about it! You're always welcome over any time, announced or not."
"Thank you. I might just have to take you up on that," Harry smiles at her cheekily before putting his plate in their dishwasher and following Louis upstairs.
"Lou, do you have any clean uniforms remotely big enough to fit me? If not, I can ask Niall to swing by my house and grab me one so I can change at school. He's got a spare key."
Louis purses his lips. "I'm not that small, Curly. I'm sure something will fit you." He rummages through the uniforms in his closet, mumbling to himself before he finds what he's looking for. It's a uniform that his mum ordered him two sizes too big by accident, and it's never been worn.
"C'mere big guy, try this on." Louis holds up a clean and pressed uniform on a hanger for Harry, who takes it gratefully.
"You can change in my bathroom if you'd like," Louis jerks a finger towards his bathroom door, eyeing the clothes Harry's still in. "Or out here," Louis adds, trying to sound as casual as possible while quickly walking over to get a uniform for himself. He prays Harry can't see his reddening face as he flips through a small stack of pocket squares before settling on a green one to add a little color to the drab uniform.
The fact that Harry's eyes are also green is a coincidence.
He picks out a blue one for Harry (also a mere coincidence), folding it as neatly as he can. He knows for a fact that Harry will refold it to sheer perfection, and maybe he'll convince him to fold the green one for Louis as well.
When Louis turns back around with his uniform and two pocket squares in hand, he stops mid-stride when he sees Harry facing him - shirtless - with the uniform pants hanging low on his hip bones.
Louis stares just a little, his hands twitching to grab onto Harry's waist and pull him in for a snog. Instead, he settles for the teasing comment: "It's a shame those pants actually fit you because otherwise, I'd be staring at your ass right now."
"Guess you'll have to settle for the gun show." Harry flexes his arms, plastering a 'macho' look onto his face. Louis directs his attention to Harry's upper half and grins.
The grin flickers for just a moment when he notices a large medical patch on Harry's skin, right where his neck meets his upper shoulder and collarbone. It brings him back to their visit to the hospital, and Louis wants nothing more than to ask if things have gotten better with Warren. But he knows it's not his right to ask Harry such personal things, and instead just takes a few steps forward and forgets his worries as he presses a kiss to Harry's lips.
"Better get ready, darling. If I'm going to be your chauffeur I expect you to be the utmost timely person."
"I can't get ready when you keep kissing me like that," Harry murmurs, pulling away from Louis and exhaling softly onto Louis' warm skin. "Love when you do, though."
"Yeah?" Louis kisses him again, eyes closed and fingers dancing across Harry's bare chest, dangerously close to his waistband.
Harry doesn't respond, he just breathlessly kisses Louis back as his hand wraps around Louis and settles on his lower back, pulling him in closer. Louis absolutely savors the feeling of being this close to Harry. All of his worries about being on time to school melt away as he loses himself in the soft lips that always seem to be on his mind.
**
They get finally to school, the hallways are completely empty and class is already in session. Louis' face is finally turning a normal shade again, but he and Harry both have a slightly pink tint in their cheeks. Not only that, but they're both wearing Louis' clothing which feels strangely intimate.
When Louis had given Harry the blue pocket square and asked him to fold the green one for Louis as well, he couldn't help but smile when Harry's face lit up. Both of them didn't comment on the colors, but it was mutually understood that they represented little tokens of one another.
Louis genuinely wonders how he's turned into such a fucking sap over the last month or so.
As they walk into Victorian Literature together, they hear the room go quiet. They quickly go to their seats and sit down. Louis is pretty sure Harry's never been late for class before, and when he steals a glance toward Curly, he's nervously biting on the bottom of his lip.
Not that Harry's lip wasn't already bitten and kissed to bits, but that's beside the point.
"Hello, boys. Care to explain why you're half an hour late to my class?" Ms. Swift asks, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking at them with disapproval.
They exchange a quick glance with one another before Harry nudges Louis beneath the desk, prompting Louis to speak.
Louis clears his throat. "Construction, Professor. We had to take a detour."
Harry nods beside him, and Ms. Swift accepts their excuse with a raised eyebrow before returning to her lecture. Both Harry and Louis breathe a sigh of relief and unpack their backpacks simultaneously, the thoughts of secret kisses and soft touches dancing in their daydreams.
***
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