He woke up with a frown. Harry sighed and felt like he wanted to cry as he sat up in bed all alone, upset that a dream was messing with him like that. How dare his mind play such a trick on him. He wiped away the sleep from his eyes and got out of bed, just now realizing he fell asleep in what he had swam in. He shook his head at himself and sadly walked out of the room and to the bathroom to shower.
It felt so real, he thought to himself as he stepped into the warm water, beginning to cleanse himself. It felt like someone had actually kissed him and played with his hair when he was falling asleep. He could've sworn he heard someone humming The Beatles when he was fell asleep, and that must be why Hey Jude is stuck in his head. Harry hates dreams. He hates sleeping. He never wants to sleep again.
He got out of the shower after he was done and dried himself off, brushed his teeth, and wrapped a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bathroom unhappily. He slowly trudged back into his room and slammed his door shut, rummaging for something comfy to wear. He knew he would be upset all day, so he went for cozy sweats and a shirt with a hole at the hem of it. Cozy enough. And he smelled bacon. Harry stomped out of the room, wishing he could rant about his dream, but that would be silly of him. Men don't get so worked up over a dream.
Frowning, he walked into the kitchen, but stopped in his tracks when he spotted Louis with a mug in his hand, staring at bacon sizzling on a pan. Louis turned his head and smiled. "Good morning, sleeping beauty!" He said with a wide smile, leaving the bacon cooking on the stove and mug on the counter to walk to Harry. He kissed him and shook his hand through Harry's damp hair. "I like spearmint toothpaste."
Harry gulped. "I—huh?"
Louis stared at Harry with a brow raised. "Your toothpaste. Spearmint." He poked his stomach. "Someone didn't get enough rest."
He watched as Louis walked away so that he could tend to the bacon. "I thought it was a dream," he quietly said.
"What was a dream? I dreamt about a turkey chasing me in a Teletubbies episode. Wonder what that means."
"I thought we were a dream. Last night. That really happened?"
"Oh," Louis said, finally catching on. He took the bacon out of the pan. "It did. You kissed me, big boy. Wasn't a dream."
Harry flushed and looked down, biting on the inside of his cheek. "Was it okay, then?"
"Hm?"
Harry glanced up and shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "The . . ." He smiled. "The kiss."
He walked over to Harry while chewing on a piece of bacon and placed a hand on his hip. He was wearing an Adidas sweater that gave him an adorable soft look; Harry wanted to cuddle him.
"Do I need to refresh your memory?"
Harry gulped; he certainly wasn't used to this. It really did seem too good to be real. Maybe he should pinch himself and see what happens. But if it is a dream, then he decides he doesn't want to wake up, not ever. Louis had grabbed Harry by the hem of his shirt anyway and pulled him closer (he liked that, he really did. He wanted Louis to push him against the counter like that and kiss him with this rough—yet soft—action), their mouths desperately finding each other's in this messy morning kiss. Louis' tongue was in Harry's mouth and that made his knees buckle; he'd never been kissed like this, and at an hour like this, he surely wasn't expecting. Louis pulled back with Harry's lower lip between his teeth.
Harry had wide eyes, lips staying parted as he gripped onto the counter behind him to help keep him standing. "I—whoa."
"Get a room, you two," said a tired voice.
Louis didn't move away too much, just winked at Harry and exhaled through his nose humorously. "Sorry," he said to Gemma. Then he turned to Harry and mouthed, "no I'm not."
Harry's face was burning up. "I don't know what's happening," he said, clearly not used to this type of attention from Louis.
"I was trying to make breakfast before everyone woke up," Louis said, walking over to Gemma when she was peeking around at the bacon.
"How did you sleep?' She asked.
"I didn't. Couldn't for some reason. Harry's too pretty not to stare at. Who needs sleep anymore?"
Harry furrowed his eyebrows and wondered if his face was actually on fire. There's no way it could be this hot if it wasn't. Did Louis stay with Harry all night? He just stayed back for a moment, watching them both talk, before he just left the kitchen. "Trippy," he muttered to himself. He'd never seen Louis so upbeat and happy. It couldn't be real, he thought. Something this good just doesn't happen to him. He walked upstairs to his room and looked in the mirror that was on the door in the closet, staring at himself and holding his arm out, giving it a good pinch until he winced and stopped. He ran his fingers through his hair and raised a brow, trying to figure out if this is actually happening. He had his tongue pinched between his forefinger and thumb when the door opened.
"That's normal," Louis said.
He turned, frustrated and frowning. "I'm confused."
"About?" He sat on the bed.
"What are we? I mean, gosh. I don't care for a label right now, but is this...? Are we gonna be a thing? You're not going anywhere? You're gonna stay here and kiss me like you have been?" Harry asked.
Louis' tongue was messing with his piercing at the corner of his lip. "Dunno. Just trying this out to see what happens. We can't do that? And I'm not going anywhere." Harry felt bad. "Hey, come here." He walked over. Louis spread out his legs so he stood in between them and smiled when they held hands. "Promise I'm not going to leave this time, not after all of this."
Harry shrugged. "Just feels too good to be true." He huffed. "I've put so much thought into us being together and what if it's not going to be good? What if something happens? I mess up a lot, Louis. I do. I'm so . . ." Harry pulled his hands out of Louis' and sat down beside him, frustrated. "I'm a baby. I've been trying to change that, I have. I've been trying to be manlier and do things men my age do, but I can't just switch off my feelings like that and be this masculine thing I'm not. You don't need that, you don't need a baby."
"I want you and everything that comes with it, Harry, not this artificial part you're trying to be," said Louis. "Is that why you had a sudden change in wardrobe? Why do you want to be like that?"
Harry shrugged and kept his head down, uncomfortable with voicing how he felt. "It's stupid."
"No it's not, don't say that."
"I'm too feminine, Lou." He shook his head and reworded. "Maybe not that, but it's like I am. I remember some bits of how I was with you when I was drunk and I don't like that. I don't want people seeing me like that. It's weird—I'm weird. And I feel too fragile and I know men handle things differently and they're so strong and tough. I just wanted to be like that," he frowned, not wanting to be judged by the person he likes so much.
Louis' hand was in Harry's hair, brushing a strand behind his ear and then lifting his face up so they could face each other. "Don't believe you have to be a certain way to be a man. You are a man, kitten. Don't feel bad for being just a little submissive. It's okay to be, it really is. It's okay to talk about it."
Harry spoke up before Louis did. "Is that what I am? I don't think I like that word."
"Well, it doesn't define you, Harry," he said, fingertips scratching lightly against Harry's scalp. "And you don't have to be that. You just like feeling . . . small sometimes, don't you?"
He couldn't help but giggle briefly, hand coming up to cover his mouth. He leaned back into Louis' hand and hummed. "That sounds cute, I like it."
"Just be who you already are. I won't pressure you into anything, promise. I know what that's like and I wouldn't do that," Louis quietly said.
Harry looked over at him. "Tell me about that. If it's okay." He can't help but be curious. He wants to know more about what made him seem so bitter and afraid of relationships.
"Ah," he sighed. "Matt. Him."
"Mhm," Harry nodded. He suddenly inched up onto the bed and crawled over to the head of the bed, patting the space beside him. Louis laughed and scooted back until he was beside Harry, who decided now was the time to cuddle him. He placed his arm around Louis' stomach and slightly pushed him down so that he could lay his head on his chest. "If you want to."
Louis started to play with Harry's hair again. "I met him after my sister Charlotte died. He was very sweet and kind, helped with the pain I felt. Guess that's one of the reasons I stuck by his side for so long. I didn't know he was like the way he was until I moved in with him. I don't know why he would be so mean, honestly. He looked at my size and body and used it for his pleasure. I'm way tougher than I'm built to be, but he just—ugh, he just viewed me as something to use for sex, it felt like. I hated it. I hate him." He accidentally gripped Harry's hair to harshly and quietly apologized, quickly soothing it over gently. "Madeline had convinced me to get out, so I did. He tells people I'm the one who was sex crazy, that bastard. He even throws my sisters death in my face!" Louis angrily said, but instantly calmed down and sadly said, "He said you would hate me once you found out I killed her."
Harry raised his head and stared up at Louis, head shaking sadly. "You didn't deserve any of that," he muttered, his hand rubbing up and down Louis' side. "He's awful. If I ever see him again, I'm gonna punch him. I will. And her death," Harry paused, trying to gather the right words. "Accidents occur, Lou. You can't blame yourself for something you couldn't have controlled. Her death was not on your hands." He frowned, not knowing if that was good enough. "I know I feel like I rushed my Mom to her deathbed sometimes and it's not a nice weight to carry. What helps is when I think about all the happy times we had, not about regrets and all of those 'should have' thoughts." Harry pursed his lips and placed his head back down on Louis' chest, sighing through his nose. "I'm not much help, I know. You can pick out some flowers from my stand and we can go visit her when we get back, if that's all right with you. Talking to my Mom there had helped me a lot." Harry placed his hand on Louis' chest. "I could never hate you," he whispered, so soft and quiet he was sure Louis didn't catch what he said.
"That'd be an awful first date," Louis laughed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thanks for that. Uh, haven't really talked about her in a while. It was nice to let some things off my chest."
"You can talk to me about anything!" He said, upbeat. "Really. May not be too great at the talking thing, but I'm great at listening." Then he sat up and grinned. "First date? We're gonna go out?"
Louis rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's what people who like each other do, moron."
Harry sat up on his knees, too happy to lie down and stay still. "I haven't been taken out in ages. Ooh, maybe I could fix something up. I could take you to where the stars shine and buy those sandwiches you like so much and we can just sit there and admire and eat. Who doesn't love to eat, right? Could I drive your car?"
Louis placed his hands behind his head and softly smiled. "Sorry, but what if I want to be the one to treat you? I'm taking you out first, you can do the next one. And do you even have your license?"
"I do, I do. Just haven't driven since I moved to London, is all." He started to lay back down, lower lip between his teeth as he propped his elbow on the bed and rested his head on his palm. "Where you gonna take me?"
Louis sat up and quickly kissed Harry. Harry flushed and watched him get up. "That's a surprise. And I don't really know yet, we'll figure it out." He pointed to the door. "Let's go eat, I'm starving."
+ + +
Gemma had decided to take Harry and Louis out before they had to head off in a few days. She'd said Josh was busy on their last day in California, and that she wanted a big meal together. So they're at some fancy restaurant with napkins made from cotton and two forks beside each plate.
Harry does have manners, he's just not familiar with using the kind of manners at a top notch place. The setting is so calm and pleasing, and Harry swears he hears the sound of a waterfall nearby. He looks around the table and smiles, enjoying the way everyone was so happy and full of laughter. He wants to remember this. Even Louis, who didn't bring anything to wear but casual clothes, was enjoying himself. Harry had put on one of his shirts he hadn't worn in a while because he thought it wasn't a shirt men wore. It was a black, silky button-up with pink and red roses scattered all over it; he loved it—even Josh, who Harry pictured to be the toughest of all, said he liked the shirt and wished he had one like it.
"What are you thinking about?"
Harry smiled and turned to look at Louis, leaning closer so that he could whisper back to him. "Just happy."
He smiled and placed his hand on Harry's knee. His breath got caught in his throat. "Good," he muttered back, squeezing his knee.
Harry inhaled deeply and picked at the napkin on the table that held a triangular form, trying to keep himself calm. He just wasn't used to this touchy attention he's receiving. He likes it; it makes his stomach flip and body tingle. But his hand didn't last there for too long, to Harry's disappointment. When Josh engaged Louis in conversation, he removed it and placed his arm on the back of Harry's chair. That also sent a weird feeling into the pit of his stomach. (Harry now realizes that he likes it so much because people can see Louis' arm around Harry's chair like that, and he wants them to. He likes the idea of people seeing that Louis is with him. Yes, he thinks to himself. Mine, mine, mine.) He may be a little tipsy.
The night was going by beautifully. The food was amazing (especially the buttery rolls), and so was the champagne that Harry was unashamedly downing. It had a wonderfully sweet taste that he couldn't get enough of. It may have been a little obvious too, by the looks of amusement he was getting by his sister and Louis.
"What?" He questioned with a shrug of his shoulders, downing the rest of his drink. "I like it."
Josh laughed and started to cut into his steak. "So, Louis, what made you want to become a tattoo artist?"
Harry raised his eyebrows and refilled his drink (after he finished off two glasses, Josh asked for the waiter to leave the bottle), awaiting Louis' response.
"Well, I'd always doodled and drew things, nothing major. My friend was actually the one to get me into it. Said I was talented and taught me everything I know. But basically, just got out of High School and wanted to be on my own and everything just fell into place, I guess."
"Ooh, very interesting. So you're good?" He asked.
Harry stuck out his arm and showed him the tattoo Louis did. "He did this one for me!"
"Hey, that is pretty good."
"He's good," Harry said as he nudged Louis. It looked like he was blushing; Harry loved it.
"Thanks," he said with a laugh.
Harry had a couple more glasses of champagne during their meal, which was adding up quickly. He wasn't sure if he was the one that had drunk nearly the entire bottle or what, but he felt great. He loves champagne. He loves food. He loves life. He just loves love. He'd turned to Louis when the dessert was brought out (some type of cake with fudge and peanut butter and a strawberry on top), and got a little too close, his mouth grazing his ear.
"I don't think I can finish that," Harry whispered.
Louis quietly laughed. "You don't have to eat it," he said back.
"But I love chocolate."
"Then eat it."
"Help me."
Louis stared at Harry, eyes searching his. Harry felt exposed when Louis looked so deeply into his eyes, so he ducked his head into the crook of his neck and sniffed, giggling at how good he smelled and how he suddenly wished he was a rabbit so he could have a cute nose.
Louis tugged at Harry's hair. "Sit up," he spoke, voice low. Harry did. "Eat your food. Shouldn't've had so much champagne, Harry."
Harry felt relieved that Gemma and Josh were too wrapped up in each other to focus on them. He felt the way Louis described earlier: small. "M'sorry," he apologized with a pout, poking at his cake with the tip of his fork.
"You're okay, just eat, baby."
Harry shifted in his seat and smiled, body tingling, especially in the pit of his stomach. Baby, he thought to himself. Louis' baby. He started to eat the cake like Louis said to, not really focused on anything but how much he liked Louis calling him that. He knows he's drunk, he really does, but he doesn't mind at all. He's happy and Louis' calling him baby.
"No one puts baby in a corner."
"Oh, you've definitely had too much to drink," Louis said as he reached out for Harry's glass, taking it away from him. "If you're quoting Dirty Dancing, that's how I know you've had enough."
Harry frowned when Louis placed water where his champagne was; he can handle his alcohol. The tip of his nose was red and his face was flushed from the champagne. He really wanted more. Harry looked over at Louis with a pouty lip and big eyes. "Pleeease."
"No, no. I said you've had too much, Harry," he said, wiping at his mouth with his napkin.
Harry frowned when he wasn't called baby. "Baby."
Louis raised a brow. "Did you just call me a...?"
"No, you didn't call me that," he sighed out, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm.
Louis shook his head and spoke to Gemma and Josh about how thankful he was for the meal, but that he should get Harry back before he throws a tantrum in his drunken state. They all stood up to leave as Josh paid for the meal. He had taken his car, but Louis suggested him and Harry take a taxicab back so that he could be alone with him. Harry actually liked that idea because he didn't want to be with anyone but Louis, at the moment.
Harry had his arm around Louis' shoulder, his other hand playing with his hair to mess with him as they both walked to the taxi Louis called for. "Such soft hair," he said, giggling when he started to pet it. "Soft bear."
Louis sat Harry in the car. "Buckle up."
Harry shook his head.
"Harry, buckle up."
He laid his head back and pretended to ignore him, until he felt the belt strap tighten around his torso; he jumped when Louis' hand touched his thigh to buckle him. "We can't have the sex here."
"The?" Louis laughed with a shake of his head. "We're not, baby, was just keeping you safe." He shut the door and walked to the other side to get in, sitting closely beside Harry.
Harry really liked being taken care of like that, so he leaned his head on Louis' shoulder and told him about all of his silly thoughts that were traveling through his mind. Louis listened and kept calling him baby, which he found out Harry liked soon enough. He felt safe. He felt warm and bubbly and happy all at once, and he didn't want that feeling to ever go away. He wanted Louis to always be by his side like that and not make fun of him when he's drunk and feels small. Louis took care of him. Harry will take care of Louis, too. He will make sure he's happy and okay at all times, and let him know that he doesn't have to be afraid of loving again because he won't hurt him. They'll take care of each other.
double update, heyooo.
what's been your favorite part of the story so far?