Chapter Text
The first text comes on Thanksgiving. Gemma and Michal are behind the counter with Liam and Zayn, cutting pies into eighths and Sam and Anne are packing leftovers into the massive fridge. Harry is sitting on a spinning chair at the corner of the counter reading Niall’s tweets about green bean casserole when it comes across the top of his phone.
H, I’ve written this a dozen times, and in the simplest terms I can manage: I miss you. So, I miss you. I’ve tried not talking to you while I sort this out. It’s not helping. Maybe we could try occasionally texting?
Harry stares at it for a long time before he types back: Yes, Louis. We could try occasionally texting. I miss you too.
Texting occasionally turns into texting everyday. Sometimes Louis texts Harry a string of barely intelligible things in a dozen different messages before Harry is even up for the day and then Harry doesn’t hear from him again until late afternoon. Sometimes Harry tells him good morning and Louis sends a goodnight text and that’s all that’s said between them.
Sometimes Louis gets drunk and sends Harry things like I miss you so much or my therapist says I can’t talk to you about sex, so this is me not talking to you about sex .
Sometimes Louis sends Harry a half finished song.
They just text though. Until:
The ice breaks on Louis’ birthday. Harry sends Louis a birthday/Christmas gift by way of a very annoyed Niall and Louis calls him late enough that it’s officially Christmas for Louis. “Baby,” Louis whispers as soon as the phone connects. “Baby, you shouldn’t have.”
“I most certainly should have.”
“H,” Louis’ voice is thick. “It’s beautiful.”
“I remember you talked about those banjos in that Alexi song you like so much, and I just thought - well, I just thought you might like it.”
Louis sighs, “you had best go get your gift then.”
“My gift?”
“It’s probably in Sam’s luggage. I’ll wait.”
So Harry scrambles off his bed and goes in search of Sam’s luggage. There’s a shoddily wrapped gift in the front pocket of her carry-on.
“I can just open it?”
Louis’ laugh is bright, “Yeah, love. Just open it.”
Harry puts the call on speakerphone and then pulls the paper off. It’s a jewelry box. “Lou.”
“Open it, love.”
Harry pulls open the lid. There’s a pearl ring sitting in a cushion. “Louis.”
“I can’t make you any promises yet about any of this. H, I’m trying. And also, I’m not saying it, but I want you to know it.”
Harry slips it on his hand. “It’s perfect, Lou.”
“I’m so glad you like it, baby. Merry Christmas.”
Harry’s flight lands in LA on January the 4th and sometime between take off and landing, The National announces a short tour with a stop in LA in August.
Tickets go on sale the next day and Harry buys two. Liam asks him what he’s thinking. Harry shrugs and says, “he’ll be home by then.”
Zayn stares at him like he’s just admitted to murder.
Louis has what Harry will come to call his Epic Meltdown of Epic Proportions a week before Harry’s birthday. His break-up with Chris gets confirmed in some no name newspaper and Louis calls him from his car saying, “I’m going to me mum’s and turning off my phone. I don’t know when I’ll turn it back on. Please try not to worry.”
Of course, Harry worries and his worry is validated when Niall calls and seems worried. “He’s talking some shit, H. About how he doesn’t deserve to be happy and shit. I don’t know. He doesn’t want me there, but Jay called me and asked me what I thought.”
“Can I call her?” Harry asked before he realized what he was doing.
And that’s how he ends up on a literal plane, train, and automobile to be on Jay’s doorstep with Lottie at 9:30 at night. Lottie just walks in and waves Harry behind her, smacking her gum and giggling.
Jay greets them first, rounding a corner, “Oh, loves.” She hugs Lottie, but throws her aside after just a second to pull Harry into a crushing hug. “Been waiting to meet you for so long, darling. Look at you, so handsome.”
And then they both hear him, “Mum?” from deep in the house. “Who’s here? You didn’t do something stupid like call Niall did you?”
“Well,” Jay shouts back, “I did do something stupid like call Niall, but that’s not who’s here.”
As Louis’ voice drifts closer, Harry allows the nerves he’s tamped down all day to bubble. His stomach flip flops. “Oi! Lots! Niall sent you? You won’t cheer me up! In fact, you’re makin’ it worse just bein’ here.”
They’re standing in the next room now, “Louis Tomlinson.” Lottie responds to him. “ I am not your guest..”
“You’re not?” Well, then who is - Harry?”
“Hi, Lou.”
Louis’ mouth hangs open for a second before he is launching himself at Harry, wrapping him up in his arms. “You’re in Doncaster. You’re in my mum’s house.”
“Hi, Lou.” Harry buries his face in Louis’ hair. He smells like him. God, Harry missed him.
Louis pulls back. “What are you - Niall? How?”
Harry’s eyes dart over to Jay and she smiles at him warmly. “I bought two tickets to The National show at the Bowl. It’s in August. I was hoping you’d go with me.”
Louis gapes. “You flew here to ask me on a date? In six months?”
Jay laughs, “Louis, don’t be intentionally thick. He’s here to take you home.”
Lottie shouts from the next room, “Mum just wants her guest room back.”
“Yes,” Jay confirms. “That too.”
“I know we have a lot to talk about.” Harry whispers, “But I’m quite tired of pretending like we aren’t inevitable.”
Louis’ eyes are sparkling. “I think we could maybe work something out.” And then Louis leans over and kisses Harry. Gently. Sweetly. Like all their other first kisses. He hopes that this is their last first kiss.