Chapter Text

AUGUST AGAIN

Wedding day dawns and Harry's back hurts. Sleeping on the air mattress is terribly uncomfortable, and while he normally loves seeing his mom, he’s glad she’s leaving directly after the reception. Once he deflates the air mattress, Harry does a little yoga to limber up, then it’s time for coffee, breakfast, and getting on with the day. 

The ceremony is at four o’clock, but Harry's supposed to meet Zayn after lunch, and spend the rest of the day with him at the venue getting ready. It won’t take four hours for Zayn to look drop dead gorgeous, but if Harry knows Zayn, he’s definitely going to take advantage of that time. 

Harry doesn’t get to see much of Louis. He throws Harry a wink, takes his coffee with him into Niall’s room, then Niall shuts and locks the door.

As today is not his day, Harry’s suit is beautiful, but more subdued than he would typically prefer. Cream colored with a slim fit jacket and wide leg trousers, Harry leaves his pale blue shirt mostly unbuttoned and hopes that Zayn will forget to give him his tie when he gets to the venue. 

“Guys, come on!” Harry yells across the loft, “I have to go, but I want to get a picture before I leave!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Liam says, coming over to stand with Harry in front of the metal sliding door. 

“You look nice,” Harry says, needlessly adjusting the lapels of Liam’s dark grey suit jacket. 

“Here I am!” Niall announces, Irish accent still sounding off to Harry’s ears, striding across the room in what Harry wishes he didn’t know is his third favorite black suit. 

Behind him, buttoning the jacket of a light grey suit as he walks, is Louis. His hair is styled up and back, swooping off his forehead and showing off the sharp cheekbones and jawline of his freshly shaved face. 

“What dapper gentlemen you are,” Harry says, waving them over to pose for the picture. Louis steps into line facing Harry, and Harry grins, straightening Louis’ tie, fingertips brushing his neck. Liam and Niall stand behind Louis, and Harry turns towards his mom and smiles. “Cheese!”

“Don’t say ‘cheese’, sweetie,” Anne says, shaking her head. “It’s Zayn’s wedding day. Everyone say ‘love’ and I’ll take the picture.”

“Okay…” Harry reaches out and when he rests one hand on Louis’ hip, Louis does the same, and Harry feels like he’s about to go to the prom with an actual date instead of going with a group of friends like he did in high school. He turns towards his mom, and says, “Okay. Ready? One, two, three, love!”

The others say it along with him, Louis grips his hip tighter, and Anne takes the picture. 

“Alright,” Harry says, smiling and meeting Louis’ gaze. “I have to go. I’ll see you there. Mom, are you coming with me?”

“Yes!” Anne grabs her purse and her wheeled suitcase, and wiggles her fingers, waving as she follows Harry to the door. “I haven't seen Trisha since they moved.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to have someone there to distract her,” Harry says as they step into the elevator. 

Anne hums. “Weddings are stressful for the parents, or so I’ve heard.”

Closing his eyes instead of rolling them, Harry says, “Speaking of: how’s Gemma?”

“You’d know better than I would,” Anne says with a defeated sigh. “If it wasn’t for her Instagram, I wouldn’t know what she looks like these days. Or where she is.”

“New York, I think,” Harry says, trying to recall the last time he heard from his sister. “Anyway, I’m sure she’ll make a lovely bride.”

With a loud snort, Anne says, “I doubt your sister will ever walk down the aisle. Unless she marries someone for their money.”

Harry shrugs. “Or on a dare.” 

“In that case, I don’t think she’d invite the family.” Anne clears her throat, shakes her head, and says, “Let’s talk about something else.”

When she doesn’t offer up a new topic of conversation right away, Harry says, “Such as…”

The elevator dings, and when the doors slide open, Harry takes her suitcase and waits while his mom walks out first. She glances at him when he opens the door for her, and says, “Louis.”

“Mom, I don’t want to talk about Louis with you.”

“Why not?” Anne asks as she links her arm with his. 

“Because I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Harry…” Anne pats his hand, and says, “Why don’t you tell me what you like about him? There’s no argument there. Satisfy my curiosity.”

“Fine,” Harry sighs and shakes his head. He waits until they’re in the car, and on the way to the wedding venue to say, “Louis is kind. He's sweet, but in a weird way that makes me feel like my weirdness is less weird? And he’s funny. Smart. Loyal. Stubborn. We disagree a lot, and we argue, but I like that because he doesn’t just let me have my way all the time.”

“Alright. I can see why you like those qualities,” Anne admits, flipping the visor down and reapplying her lipstick. “What about his job?”

“He manages the bar. The Griffin,” Harry says. “I told you I was working there with him.”

“You never said he was the manager.”

“He wasn’t the manager then. That’s a new development,” Harry says. “But it shouldn’t matter, Mom. He likes bartending. He enjoys his job probably as much as I like teaching, and he’s writing a novel in his spare time.”

“A writer,” Anne says, nodding and pressing her lips together. “You’ve only told me bits and pieces about him before today. I knew he was a bartender, that his birthday is on Christmas, th—”

“Christmas Eve,” Harry corrects. 

“Christmas Eve. And you told me that he was moving out of the apartment and in with his boyfriend.” Anne looks over, and says, “I assume that didn’t happen and that the boyfriend is now an ex.”

“Yep,” Harry says, speeding up a little, wanting to get to the venue so he can hide from this interrogation. 

“And… You told me that you had to buy noise-canceling headphones because he’s very loud when—”

“Mom!” Harry honks the horn for emphasis, and says, “Please. I get it. I’ve complained about Louis to you. He’s not a perfect roommate! But I like him a lot and I think we could be good together. I really do. So, please…”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll let it go,” Anne says, reaching over to tuck Harry’s hair behind his ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry says, smiling with relief as he pulls into the parking lot.

Harry's main duty as best man is to keep Zayn from freaking out which is nice because it keeps Harry from freaking out. 

“Everyone’s here,” Harry says, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket. “Doniya’s plane was a little late, but your dad picked her up at the airport, and they're both here now. See? Nothing to worry about.”

Zayn fans himself with his hands, then blots his face with a tissue. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Ezra is exactly what I need. We’ve talked about everything important. We agree on all of it. And we want the same things. He’ll be a perfect partner.”

“Do you think…” Harry tilts his head, squinting his eyes. “Do you think maybe you’re just anxious because of, like, your previous expectations?”

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks, pouting at his reflection and brushing his eyebrows into place with his fingertips. 

“Well, like… When we were kids, you wanted a big love story, remember?” Harry asks, chuckling quietly at the memories of Zayn’s many imaginary boyfriends. “And this isn’t that. This is more like a… cerebral decision? Less heart, more brain.”

Zayn scoffs, turning away from the mirror. “You might be right. But this is better, I think.”

It’s not his place to give an opinion now, not when Zayn’s heard Harry's concerns about the marriage and dismissed them all, so Harry smiles, and says, “Button your jacket. Let me get a look at you.”

Facing the mirror again, Zayn fastens the buttons on his suit jacket, smoothing the lapels and adjusting his collar even though he’s yet to put on his tie. Harry’s not about to remind him.

As Zayn turns to him, the door to the room swings open and Harry whips his head around, eyes going wide at the sight of Niall in the doorway. 

“Niall! What are you doing?” Harry takes a step towards the door, using both hands to shoo him away like a fly, but he just stands there staring, mouth agape, speechless. Moving between Zayn and Niall, Harry raises his voice, and shouts, “Get out, Niall!”

“This isn’t the bathroom,” Niall says, taking a step back and slowly pulling the door shut. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry mutters, snatching a tissue from the box on the table near the mirror, and dabbing at the sweat beading on his brow. He gives Zayn what he hopes is a reassuring smile, and says, “I’m just going to go make sure we don’t get any more surprise visitors. Anything I can bring you? Tea? Water? Champagne?”

“No,” Zayn says, unfastening the buttons on his jacket. “Nothing. I’m all set.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” Harry says, smiling as he opens the door to the hallway. He steps out, looking both ways, but the corridor is empty, so he plucks the Do Not Disturb sign off the inside of the door handle, and hangs it on the outside, closing the door, and stalking off down the hall. 

The wedding is due to start in twenty minutes, and there’s no way for Harry to check that every single aspect of the ceremony is set to go off without a hitch, but he does his due diligence. 

First, he stops at the room where Zayn’s mom and sisters are getting ready. All the girls are dressed, Doniya’s adding a last layer of lipstick, Trisha’s fussing with Waliyah’s hair, and Safaa’s distracted by her phone. 

“Where’s Yaser?” Harry asks, and Trisha tips her head to the side, hands still busy with Waliyah’s hair. 

“Went to find an empty restroom where he could practice his speech for the reception,” Trisha says with a fond roll of her eyes. “He’s practiced and practiced at home until I have it memorized. I think he’s trying to keep busy. Send him back this way if you see him?”

“I can do that,” Harry says, recalling all the restroom signs he’s seen since arriving at the venue. “No problem.” 

Before Harry goes on a search of all of the restrooms on the first floor of the hotel, he heads for the hotel bar because if Louis is at the venue, that’s where he’s likely to be. He peeks into every restroom he passes on the way, calling for Yaser, but doesn’t find him. Just as Harry expected, Louis is standing at a tall, round cocktail table with Liam and Niall, and Harry hurries over. 

“Niall, what the hell were you doing back there?” Harry swats his arm for good measure.

“Zayn’s backing out of the wedding,” Niall says matter-of-factly.

“What?” Harry asks, holding a hand to his chest.

“It’s true!” Niall runs a hand over his carefully coiffed hair. “He told me.”

“With his eyes,” Louis says with a slow nod. 

“Oh my God.” Giving Niall a shove, Harry says, “I thought you were talking about something real. Niall, listen, man. You have to let him go. Zayn’s marrying Ezra.”

“I have let him go!” Niall quickly looks around, then points across the room to Elizabeth, and says, “I’m with Elizabeth, and she’s amazing. I’m just telling you this as Zayn’s friend, okay?”

“Zayn loves Ezra,” Harry grits out the lie, and says, “I know this is what he wants because I know him better than you.”

“False,” Niall snaps, lifting his chin slightly. “When you've had sexual congress with someone and you've peered into their soul at the exact moment of fulfillment, you—”

“Gross, Niall!” Harry smacks his arm again, hard enough to sting his palm and make Niall wince. “Listen to me. You are not to talk to Zayn, you are not to look at Zayn, and you are not to have eye conversations with Zayn. You are to take your seat and sit quietly while this wedding goes off without a hitch. Do you understand?” Niall rolls his eyes, and Harry steps into Niall’s space. “You will not interfere with this wedding or I will kick your ass.” 

Glancing at Louis, Harry grins, biting his lip, and Louis winks. Niall looks at them both, lip curling as he says, “Disgusting.”

“Fuck off, Ni,” Louis says, still smiling. 

“Okay. I have to go find Zayn’s dad,” Harry says, and rushes off in search of the nearest restroom. Blinking in the bright light of the corridor, Harry heads towards the end of the hall, figuring he has to start somewhere. Right near the emergency exit, there’s a restroom, and Harry knocks on the door, but there’s no response, so he pushes the door open, and quietly calls, “Yaser?” Again, there’s no response, so he steps inside, and bends at the waist, peeking under the stall door, and finding nothing. The door opens behind him, and Harry jerks upright, turning towards it.

“Well, well, well,” Louis says, stepping inside and closing the door. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks with a glance at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He only looks a little disheveled with a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Haven’t had a second alone with you, and I wanted one.” Crossing the bathroom in two strides, Louis reaches for him, one hand sliding over Harry’s chest and shoulder to cup the back of his neck. He cradles Harry’s face in his other hand, and the gentle pressure of Louis’ thumb against his cheekbone tilts his head, and Harry finds himself being kissed. 

Louis steps one foot between Harry’s, and turns them together, trapping Harry against the counter, and Harry spreads his legs, making space for Louis between them and eliminating the difference in their heights. He parts his lips, teasing Louis with his tongue, and groaning as he breaks the kiss. 

“I can't,” Harry whispers, eyes half-closed as he dips in to taste Louis’ mouth again. He hums and pulls back, ducking his chin and resting his forehead against Louis’ with a soft sigh. “I have to find Zayn’s dad. Trisha said he went to practice his speech for the reception in one of the bathrooms.”

“Need me to help?” Louis offers, kissing Harry quickly once more, then leaning back. 

“Actually, I…” Harry checks his reflection again, and this time his cheeks are flushed dark, his eyes shine, and his lips are wet and pink. He grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and runs it under cool water, wringing it out and holding it to his cheeks. “I think I need you to keep an eye on Niall.”

Louis presses his lips together and nods. “I already told him to behave, but that’s a good idea.”

“See you out there?” Harry tucks his lip between his teeth, and Louis reaches up to cup his chin, thumbing at Harry’s lower lip until he stops biting it, kissing him again, then disappearing into the corridor. 

Harry holds the damp towel to his other cheek, dabs it along his hairline, then hurries out of the restroom. 

Yaser Malik isn’t in any of the first floor restrooms. Harry checks every single one, and he’s on the brink of calling Trisha to check if she forgot to let him know Yaser returned in his absence. He resolves to at least check the second floor restrooms on the same wing, and even though it’s one flight of stairs, Harry takes the elevator, leaning back against the cool metal wall and taking a few deep breaths. 

The doors slide open, and Harry forces himself to walk, not run when he sees Liam and Niall in the hall outside one of the restrooms. They bolt as soon as they catch sight of Harry coming towards them, yanking open the door to the stairwell and running away. Before Harry can get there, the restroom door flies open, and Louis stumbles out, followed by Yaser. 

“Oh my god!” Harry hurries to Yaser, taking in his rumpled suit and wild eyes, and asks, “Are you alright?” 

“The door was stuck!” Yaser shouts, running for the stairs. “I cannot miss my son’s wedding!”

Louis giggles, slapping a hand over his mouth when Harry wheels around. “Louis! I should’ve known you’d be scheming with Niall.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Louis protests. 

Harry points at the bathroom, and says, “Please. You distracted me with— with kisses! Got me to tell you where I was looking for Yaser, and then you what? Ran off to tell Niall and Liam so the three of you could find him first and lock him in the bathroom. What else were you doing in there with him? How gullible do you think I am? God! I can't believe I thought I could count on you.”

“I can't believe you think I’d do this at your best friend’s wedding,” Louis says, clenching his jaw, brow furrowed. 

“Of course you’d do this! This is exactly the kind of thing that you do, Louis,” Harry says. His phone vibrates in his hand, and as he glances down at it, he mutters, “What a stupid, childish prank.”

Throwing his arms wide, Louis laughs. “I’m childish? Fine. I’m a child.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Harry says, pocketing his phone and heading for the stairwell. “The wedding starts in five minutes.”

Harry runs downstairs, stopping to be sure Yaser made it back to Trisha and the girls without issue, and promising them all that nothing else will go wrong. Outside Zayn’s door, Harry fakes a loud laugh, walking in with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Ready to get hitched?” Harry says, turning off his phone and slipping it into the inside jacket pocket of his suit. As Zayn searches his face, Harry chuckles, then smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Zayn. It’s okay to be nervous, but all you have to do is get married. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Safaa walks down the aisle first with Ezra’s brother, and Harry turns to Zayn, smiling. “Just a few more minutes and you’ll be a married man!”

Zayn nods quickly. “How does Ezra look? Does he look nervous?”

“I can't see him,” Harry says, pointing down the hall. “Remember? He’s down there. You guys are going to walk down separate aisles towards each other.”

“I know!” Zayn shakes his head, and says, “Sorry. Sorry. I know. I didn’t mean to snap at you and I did forget for a second. I’m nervous!”

“And that’s fine,” Harry whispers as Doniya follows Waliyah down the aisle, each of them walking beside another of Ezra’s brothers. “It’s my turn. I’ll see you on the flip side, babe.”

“Thank you,” Zayn says, blowing Harry a kiss before he starts towards the dais. 

As Harry makes his way between the rows of guests, he keeps his focus ahead, not glancing around for Louis like he thought he would. He’d pictured secret smiles between them, silent promises of more to come after the ceremony, maybe even a quickie in one of the many restrooms, but now he simply takes his place in front of Doniya, facing Ezra’s best friend Adam, and turning his head to watch Ezra and Zayn’s entrance. 

The music changes, and when the opening notes of piano play, Zayn and Ezra both enter and start down the aisle. Harry catches Zayn’s eye, and Zayn smiles back nervously, taking measured steps. The speakers around the room go deathly silent, then the terrible, yet instantly recognizable song “Cotton Eye Joe” blares. Zayn stops halfway down the aisle and sends Harry a pleading look.

“Everybody stay put!” Harry shouts, holding his hands up high and clapping to get everyone’s attention. “Little problem with the music! I’ll be right back!”

Harry sprints out of the room, running for the sound room next door just as the door opens and Liam steps out, laughing maniacally and taking off down the hall. Catching the door before it can swing closed, Harry stops short just inside. 

“Louis!” Harry shoves him away from the soundboard, but it’s no use. The entire thing is covered in duct tape. 

“Harry, you have to believe me,” Louis says, looking around at the sound room. “I didn't do this.”

“Please!” Harry hurries around to the outlet, and unplugs everything, taking a deep breath into the deafening silence. “You think Niall and Liam would be smart enough to duct tape the sound board? That’s brilliant! And we both know you love this stupid song!”

“Harry, I promise—”

“Shut up,” Harry snaps, spinning around and heading back to Zayn. He smiles when he enters, and announces, “If you’d all be so kind to wait just a few more minutes, I’ll restart the processional music, and Zayn and Ezra can enter again. It’ll be perfect!”

“Harry, babes, you don't have to fix this,” Zayn says, glancing at Ezra and walking towards the dais. 

“Fix what?” Harry laughs, and says, “This is a perfect day. Just a little mixup with the music. No big deal.” 

Zayn shakes his head, stepping up on the dais and turning to face everyone. “I'm sorry, but I can't do this. And it's not because of ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe.’ This isn't what I want.” Looking down at his hands, Zayn licks his lips, and nods once, then lifts his head, and says, “What I want is to be with someone else. Ezra, I feel terrible. I'm sorry.”

“I… I…” Ezra clears his throat, turns, and walks out of the room. 

Harry hurries to Zayn’s side, and whispers, “Are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve been about anything lately,” Zayn admits. He waves his sisters over, hugging them and sending them off to stand with his parents. “Shit. I guess I should—”

“You should do whatever you need to do right now,” Harry says. “If that means going back to your room alone, do it. Or go with your family, and I’ll take care of everything here.”

“You will?” Zayn throws his arms around Harry and squeezes him tight. “Thank you. I need to talk to my parents. Explain some things. Please just… just tell everyone I’m sorry, and I’ll return their gifts. Shit. The reception wasn’t meant to start for an hour, so before I do anything else, I’m going to run to the kitchen and hopefully stop that.”

“Okay. You do that,” Harry says, nudging him towards the door. “I’ll take care of everything here.”

Trisha and the girls go with Zayn, and Yaser stays with Harry, apologizing to the guests, and sending them on their way. When the room finally empties out, Yaser turns to Harry, and says, “The young man who was in the restroom with me. You know him?”

“I’m so sorry, Yaser,” Harry says, shutting his eyes tight. “He’s… He’s one of my roommates. Louis. I’m sorry he trapped you in there.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Yaser says with a short laugh, shaking his head. “Louis was more upset about being stuck in there than I was. He came into the restroom and told me you were looking for me, but when we tried to open the door again, it wouldn’t budge. Niall and Liam? They're your other roommates, yeah?”

“That’s them,” Harry says flatly.

“Niall and Liam. Louis blamed them for locking the door,” Yaser says, chuckling quietly. “I didn't see anyone but you when the door finally came unstuck. I wanted to make certain that Louis was alright. Tell him thank you for coming to get me, Harry. Now…” Sighing, Yaser closes his eyes. “I need to see Zayn.”

“Okay, um…” Harry grunts when Yaser pulls him into a quick hug, then smiles, waving as he leaves the room. 

Before Harry can go in search of Louis, he has to deal with his mom who’s so patiently waited while he’s explained and apologized to all of the wedding guests. 

“Mom, hey,” Harry says, combing his fingers through his hair and catching a tangled curl. “Crazy day, huh?”

“Little bit,” Anne says, pulling him into a hug so tight he can’t breathe. She relaxes and steps back, taking his face in her hands. “Are you happy with Louis?”

“I… I think so?” Harry tries to shrug, but it’s tough with his mom cradling his cheeks. “I think I could be really happy with Louis.”

“That’s all I want,” Anne says with a watery smile as she pats Harry’s cheek. “I’ve got an Uber coming. Walk me outside so I can get my suitcase from your car.”

“Sure,” Harry says, linking his arm with hers. 

The Uber arrives while Harry’s fetching his mom’s suitcase, and he gives her one more hug and a promise to come home for Christmas this year, then waves as the car drives away to take her to the airport. 

It’s a big hotel, and there’s always the chance Louis’s gone home already, but Harry checks the bar just in case, and there he is, jacket draped over the tall chair he’s sitting in, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie probably stuffed in his pocket. Harry takes the seat beside him, and waits for Louis to look his way. 

“What, Harold?” Louis asks without taking his eyes off his beer bottle. 

“I know you didn't trap Yaser in the bathroom,” Harry says, gently touching the back of Louis’ knuckles with the tip of his finger. 

“Yeah, so? I tried to tell you.” Louis scoffs, and takes a long pull off his beer. “Didn’t fuck with the music either, but you probably need someone else to tell you that before you’ll believe it.”

“I…” Harry swallows, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I believe you.”

“Does that matter though? Like, you obviously think I’m going to fuck up everything.”

“I don’t,” Harry says with a quick shake of his head. “I really don’t think that, Lou.”

“Harry, look… I’m not…” Meeting Harry's gaze, Louis admits, “I’m not the healthiest person, like, mentally and physically.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, you know? So part of you agrees with your mom, then.”

“No,” Harry says, frowning and tipping his head, trying to keep eye contact. “I didn’t say that, Lou.”

Lifting his chin, Louis holds his stare, and says, “Tell me there’s not part of you that’s scared that I’m too much of a mess and that this…” He points at Harry, then back at himself, and waves a hand between them. “That this thing is a mistake. You and me. Just admit that you have doubts.”

Harry looks him over, at his messy hair, the dampness under his arms from where he probably forgot to put on deodorant, and at his resigned expression. “I mean… Yeah. There’s a small part. But I—”

“That’s all there is to it, Harold,” Louis says with a short, sharp laugh. “You might be right about me. You could be right about, you know, your fears. And we… we gave it a shot, right?”

“Just say what you want to say, Lou,” Harry whispers, blinking rapidly as tears spring to his eyes. 

“Fine,” Louis says with a shrug. “I think we should call it off. End it before it starts. It’s not like we’re in love or anything.”

Nodding slowly, Harry swallows past the lump in his throat. “That’s… That’s… That’s good for me. Let’s call it.”

“Okay, then. It’s done,” Louis says, tipping his beer bottle towards Harry and throwing him a wink before turning to the bartender and calling after him, “Hey, man! Can I get another beer?”

Harry slips off his stool, and walks away, legs trembling, heart breaking. He pushes his way out of the bar, and heads for Zayn’s room. His own problems are miniscule next to canceling a wedding, but when he gets there, the room is empty, so he takes a seat on the settee, pulls out his phone, and waits. It’s not long before he loses patience and texts Zayn, “Let me know if you need absolutely anything and I’ll be right over! Your dad and I sent everyone off, so I’m going to go home. Love you!”

Once he’s out in the parking lot, Harry just can’t make himself leave. He slides behind the wheel of his station wagon, but doesn’t start the car, leaning the seat back instead. In the pocket of his suit jacket, there’s a packet of travel tissues, and he uses them all to mop up his tears. It’ll be better if he gets it out of his system now before he goes back to the loft. The last thing he wants is for Louis to know how upset he is. 

Except… 

He does want Louis to know. He wants Louis to know everything there is to know about him. He wants to know everything there is to know about Louis. And there’s no way for that to happen if they're calling this whole thing off. Harry climbs out of the car, and slams the door, looking back at the hotel. 

Coming straight for him is Louis, and Harry rounds the front of his car, meeting Louis halfway across the parking lot. “Louis, I know you said we should call it off, but I want to see where this goes. I—”

“I don’t want to call it off,” Louis says, stopping in front of him. He steps up, cradling Harry's face and guiding him into a kiss. 

Harry melts against him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and kissing him back, tasting the beer on his tongue. They need to talk, but all Harry wants to do is take Louis’ clothes off and kiss him all over. Before he can suggest that, Louis breaks the kiss.

“Give me your keys,” Louis says, and Harry jerks his thumb back towards his car. 

“They’re in the ignition.” 

“Come on.” Louis takes his hand, linking their fingers together, and tugs Harry along with him. 

“Where are we going?” Harry asks as he opens the passenger door.

“Not sure, but, um… Let’s go!” Louis turns the key and honks the horn, laughing as Harry just manages to close the door before he pulls out of the parking space. 

“Oh my god, Lou!” Harry buckles his seatbelt, and smacks Louis in the stomach. “Put on your seatbelt. You’re driving like a crazy person. You should turn left here.”

Louis pulls his seatbelt across his body and puts the buckle in Harry’s hand, turning right onto the road. “I want to make three right turns instead.”

“What? Why?” Harry asks, glancing at Louis while he struggles with the buckle. 

“Takes longer,” Louis says, lifting his foot off the gas and slowing the car to a crawl. 

Harry laughs, finally fastening Louis’ seatbelt, and looks up to find that he’s leaning so far into Louis’ space that he might as well kiss him. So he does. 

“Harry, I— I really like you,” Louis says, giggling and grinning and glancing over. “Like, a lot.”

“Me, too.” Harry reaches for Louis’ hand, and says, “I like you so much.”

“I just— I can’t believe this is happening.” Shaking his head, Louis laughs, and lifts Harry’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. 

“I really, really like you, Lou,” Harry says, pulling Louis’ hand over so he can kiss Louis’ knuckles too. “I feel silly saying it like that, but I do. I’m, like, in this. I’m just…”

“What?” Louis asks with a quick look at Harry before turning his focus to the road in front of them.

“I’m in. You know?” Squeezing Louis’ hand, Harry says, “I’m all in.”

“All in!” Louis cackles, then sighs happily. “I’m weirdly all in.”

“Hey, Lou, um…” Harry points to the side of the road, and says, “Pull over.”

“Really?” Louis asks, and Harry nods, releasing his hold on Louis’ hand and gripping Louis’ thigh. “Shit. Shit, okay.”

Louis pulls into the next parking lot they come to. Harry looks around, but it’s dark, and there aren’t any people nearby, so he unbuckles his seatbelt, gets up on his knees in the passenger seat, and leans across the console, steadying himself with his hands on Louis’ shoulders as he ducks down to kiss him. 

Carefully balanced on his knees, Harry slides one hand down over Louis’ chest and stomach. As soon as he struggles to undo Louis’ belt, both of Louis’ hands are there to help, and while he does that, Harry unzips Louis’ pants and reaches inside, cupping his balls and hardening cock. 

Louis groans at the touch, shoving his pants and briefs down to mid-thigh, and Harry smiles against his mouth. He kisses the sharp scruff on Louis’ chin and drags his lips over his Adam’s apple, wrapping a hand around Louis’ dick and slowly stroking it before bending down and taking it into his mouth. 

“Oh… Fuck.” Louis rests a hand on the back of Harry's head, scratching his scalp, and moaning when Harry licks at the tip, teasing him a little. 

He might be blowing Louis in a parking lot, but he’s not too keen on the idea of his own bare ass up in the air for anyone who might walk past to see, so Harry bypasses his belt and simply unzips his pants to free his dick through the opening in his briefs. While he sucks Louis’ dick, Harry jerks himself off, on the verge of coming from the elation of finally getting together with Louis, the slim chance that they could be caught, and the tight grip Louis has on his hair. When Louis fucks into his mouth, Harry doubles his efforts, and it’s not long before Louis grunts and tries to pull Harry off his cock. 

“Gonna come,” Louis warns him, and Harry hums, stroking himself faster. With a few quick thrusts, Louis comes, spilling into Harry's mouth, and Harry swallows. He sits back on his heels, holding Louis’ gaze, hand a blur over his cock until he comes, catching most of it in his hand while Louis watches, mouth hanging open. “Holy shit.”

Harry laughs, staring at the come in his hand, and shakes his head. He uses his semi-clean hand to open the glove compartment, and grabs a package of baby wipes. “Remember when you laughed at me for putting emergency wipes in my car?”

“I didn't know we’d need them like this,” Louis says. He lifts his hips and pulls his pants back up while Harry cleans off his hands, his dick, and the little bit of come that landed on the passenger seat. As Harry settles into his seat, Louis reaches over, brushing Harry's cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You’re really good at sucking cock.”

“Why, thank you!” Harry snorts, leaning back in his seat. His relationship with Sam taught him a thing or two, but he’s never felt more confident than now, so he smirks and says, “I know I am.”

“Oh, you do?” Louis laughs and shakes his head. 

“Hey, um…” Harry clears his throat, combing his fingers through his hair. “What’s next? What do we do now?”

Louis sucks in a breath, biting his lip, then he leans over and kisses the hinge of Harry's jaw, lips tickling him as he whispers, “I’m really fighting the urge to buy you a lobster dinner.”

Giggling, Harry shrugs his shoulder, gently pushing Louis away. “Should we just go home?”

“I guess,” Louis says, scrunching his nose. 

It’s not a long drive back to the loft, and Harry regrets their decision as soon as he realizes how close they are, but there’s no reason not to go home, so he lets Louis drive. 

“Can’t believe Zayn called off his wedding like that.”

“I know! That was crazy,” Louis says, nudging Harry's arm. “Was he talking about Niall?”

“I think so.” Harry winces, and says, “Niall was right and he’s never going to let this go.”

“Do you think he’ll break up with Elizabeth?” Louis asks as he pulls into a parking space near the loft. “He seems really into her.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t.” Harry gets out of the car, checking his messages while he waits for Louis on the sidewalk. “Zayn texted. His parents are going to stay for the week, help him with returning the gifts and stuff.”

“Man, that’s rough,” Louis says, reaching for Harry's hand. He drops Harry's keys into his open palm, laughing as he steps around to Harry's other side and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Glad I’m not Niall. I mean, I’m always glad I’m not Niall, but I’m really glad I’m not Niall right now.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be in that position,” Harry says as Louis opens the door to the building and steps aside to let him in. “Thanks, Lou.”

Louis pats Harry's bum as he passes by, and Harry jumps, giggling, cheeks flushing. They step into the elevator which, unfortunately, opens the second he pushes the button. The ride up to the Dth floor takes only a few seconds, and they find themselves standing outside the door to apartment 1D, neither of them reaching to open it. 

“You know… um…” Harry frowns at the door, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“How’s this going to work?” Louis asks, turning to face him. “We’ve been dating for thirty minutes and we’re already living together.”

“I mean, sort of? We have our own rooms at least,” Harry says, reaching out to tug on Louis’ collar. “But, like, what if you get sick of me and you have to hide in your room because we live together?”

Shaking his head, Louis says, “That won’t happen. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You have?” Harry purses his lips, wrinkling his nose, and trying not to smile too wide. 

“Yeah,” Louis easily admits. He pulls out his phone, scowling at it. “I just don’t want anything to go wrong. It’s Niall. He’s freaking out about Zayn.”

“Is he inside?” Harry asks quietly, tilting his head towards the loft. When Louis nods, Harry says, “He doesn't need to reach you all the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Louis says, pocketing his phone. “This is more important right now. Me and you.”

Harry's phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he checks it, there’s a single text from Niall. “Niall just texted me to ask where you are.”

“He texted you to ask where I am?” Louis scoffs, taking his phone back out. It vibrates in his hand, and he rolls his eyes. “He just texted that I'm a bad friend.”

“Maybe this is what I'm talking about? Like… How are we supposed to figure out what this is?” Harry asks, gesturing at the few inches of space between them. “If we can’t have a conversation without being interrupted by our roommates? We need time alone. Just us.”

“Yes.” Louis takes Harry's face in his hands and lays a smacking kiss on his lips. “That’s what I want. I want to be with you. Just me and you. Nobody—”

The loft door opens, and Niall huffs, stomping his feet. “Where have you been? I'm having a crisis! Zayn called off his wedding for me! And what the hell is going on with you two? Are you hooking up? Are you a couple now? Have you thought any of this through?”

Harry closes his eyes, Niall’s questions making his head spin, but Louis gently rubs his lower back and says, “Okay, Ni, just give us a minute. We’ll be right inside. We just need to have a quick chat.”

“Thank you!” Niall yells, stepping back into the loft, and shutting the door. 

“Oh my god,” Harry says, turning to Louis, eyes wide. “What do we do?”

Clenching his jaw, Louis nods once, and says, “We have to run away.”

“We can’t… Wait. I don’t start my new job until next Monday,” Harry says, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. 

“I can take a few days,” Louis says, scratching the scruff on his chin. “I never ask for time off from the bar. When do we leave?”

“When they're asleep and won’t notice,” Harry whispers conspiratorially, glancing at the door. “Five?”

“In the morning?” Louis asks, eyebrows raised. “It’s eleven now.”

“Okay, so I think… You have to talk to Niall. Placate him,” Harry says. “Lie to him. Tell him we’re just hooking up. We’ll sleep in our own rooms, and—”

“I want to sleep with you.” Louis smirks, and Harry pouts, tapping his finger against Louis’ lips.

“Yeah, I do too, but I think we won’t get a lot of sleep if we do that, so it’s better if we split up, pack our bags, and go spend a few days somewhere else,” Harry says, and Louis heaves a sigh. 

“Alright, alright, just— One more kiss.” Louis throws his arms around Harry's shoulders, kissing him fiercely, and Harry's hands find their way to Louis’ bum on instinct, but they're interrupted almost immediately. 

“Stop this!” Niall shouts as he opens the door again, and out of habit, Harry jumps back away from Louis. “Louis, stop being so selfish and help me, okay?”

“Ugh. Fine.” Louis pushes past Niall into the loft. 

Niall gives Harry an appraising look, but Harry ignores him and goes straight to the bathroom. His suit has to be dry cleaned, so he leaves it in a pile on the bench while he showers, going over a to-do list in his head. 

Wherever they end up going, he’ll probably need shorts and sneakers and sunscreen, and if he and Louis don’t get time alone together to talk tonight, they can discuss things in the car in the morning. They’ll probably wind up driving to some dingy motel or maybe they can swing a couple of nights someplace nice, hide out in a fancy suite and order room service.