Actions

Work Header

i'll let you be the air in my lungs

Summary:

It would just so happen to be that a tall figure is already standing right there and Louis hears the boy let out a small “ow” as he steps on his toes and crashes into his chest.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry”, Louis apologizes as he spins around, suddenly face to face with Harry for the second time this day, which surely is two times too many.

Or, Harry and Louis broke up three months ago and meet again at a wedding. Reluctant at first, but Louis comes around. Literally.

Notes:

First time posting smut (notice how I said 'posting' and not 'writing'?).

Comments, feedback, kudos all of that is much appreciated. Enjoy.

Work Text:

It’s not that Louis is surprised to see Harry here. Not at all, really, taking as it is his sister’s wedding after all. The problem lies somewhere more towards the ways he’s here; how he looks and moves across the room, the way his eyes glaze over the crowd of people before they stop on Louis and Louis think he might be waving but it’s hard to tell as he swiftly turns his back at the boy.

It’s become a thing – more than anything, really –, trying to avoid Harry at all cost despite the large number of occasions that both their families have been invited to. And Louis would say he’s done pretty well, up until now. Time after time that his there had even been the slightest chance of running into Harry, Louis has been able to come up with some sort of excuse to avoid the situation at a whole. He suspected his mother knew what he was doing, but she never said anything. And his father – well, Louis’ not sure his father is even aware of the fact that his son is gay, much less that he used to be dating Harry, the boy that he knows of merely of as Des Styles’ darling child.

He had been so close to getting out of this as well. Had it just not been for his mother stomping into his room just as he was about to sneak out the window and spend the night at Zayn’s place – pizza, old movies and a whole lot of nostalgia for when times were easier – he would’ve been able to avoid this big mess of a reunion he was obviously facing.

Now, standing in this small, cozy church, people running around them with ribbons and flowers, Louis wishes even more he didn’t have to be here. There’s just something about weddings that makes him want to puke a little. Whether it’s the cringe worthy way people make such a big deal about other people’s relationship or the fact the he has to dress up in a ridiculous suit that is way too tight around his bum is hard to decide.

His mother nudges his side with her elbow and looks at him sternly, as if by saying “lose the grudge, Louis.”

Louis widens his eyes at her and flexes his jaw. “What?” he asks, annoyed, under his breath and his mother turns to him with a defeated expression.

“Louis”, she says and reaches out to straighten up his bowtie, “we’re her for Gemma today, alright? I know you and Harry have your problems, but you’re just going to have to push them aside for this one night. Okay?”

Louis stares back at her and blinks slowly. He then shrugs, “Whatever.”

“No”, his mother corrects him, “it’s not whatever. Wipe away the frown now, will you please?”

Louis rolls his eyes, but tries his best to smoothen out the dent that’s been taking shape between his eyebrows. His mother gives him a meaning look and brushes off his shoulder once before turning away and immediately stepping right into a heated conversation with some old friends of hers.

Louis looks around the room again – up and down the still empty rows of chair and down to the end of the isle where Gemma is soon going to be stood, all dressed up in white and exchanging rings with that husband of hers. Louis pouts for a moment and glances over at the main entrance, trying to estimate his chances of getting out of here without anyone noticing. Zayn still seems like a good option in contrast to this bittersweet occasion. Plus, delivery pizza takes less than half an hour…

He is just about to turn around and start toward the doors as gracefully and intangibly as possible when a voice, too close and too familiar, startles his thoughts and has him jump a little.

“Fancy seeing you here today”, Harry says softly and suddenly Louis is looking up at him, only inches away from his face, so close he can feel the warmth streaming out from his body, for the first time in over three months.

“You know”, he goes on when Louis doesn’t answer, “had I not known better I would’ve almost thought you were trying to avoid me.”

Louis looks up at him, hates that he’s so much taller than himself despite the fact that he’s younger, and pouts a little. Harry smiles faintly, the traces of a single dimple hinting in his right cheek, but Louis can see the hurt in his eyes as he speak as much as he tries to make a joke out of it.

“Maybe I have been”, Louis finally says and leans on his hip. Harry flinches for a second, but recovers himself quickly. He nods slowly and scratches the back of his neck.

“I see”, he mumbles quietly and whatever confident he had when he came over seem to has been wiped clean off his face.

“Yeah?” Louis cocks an eyebrow and sound meaner then he intends it to.

Harry looks at him and Louis stares back, his eyes darting back and forth from his green eyes to his plum lips and he notices his glowing cheek in between as well. Louis inhales sharply at last and Harry meets his gaze. “I should go”, he then tells Harry and gestures at the door.

Harry frowns, looking concerned almost. “You’re not staying for the ceremony?” he asks quietly, sounding hurt.

Louis bites his lip and looks around the room, wishing for someone to come and save him from this embarrassment of a conversation.  He feels his cheeks getting hot as he realizes that he’s not sure what the answer is. “I think it’s better if I don’t”, he mumbles at last and runs his hands over his face.

“Look, Louis, I know you don’t want to see me”, Harry begins, suddenly sounding eager, “and I understand that, but it means a lot for my sister to have you and your family here today. So, please just… stay. You don’t have to talk to me, but just don’t leave now.” He flails his arms around as he speaks and won’t look Louis in the eyes until after he’s finished talking.

Louis stares at him in silence for a few seconds. He wants to hate Harry, he really does. And he thinks he has plenty of reasons to do so as well, but he just can’t. He can’t look at the wide eyed boy in front of him and feel anything but longing to reach out for him, and maybe that was the problem this whole time; the fact that Louis always felt more than Harry ever did, that he always gave more than Harry could accept.

“Okay”, he says at last and as on a cue the lights dim around them and people begin to take their seats. “I’ll stay. Not for you, but sure, I’ll stay.” His voice is flat, empty of emotion and he has to admit he’s pretty impressed about that considering all the feelings that are igniting inside of him.

Harry pulls back and his mouth falls open for a split second before he gathers himself again. Louis can easily trace the hurt in his emerald eyes, like shimmering sparks of moonlight swimming around his pupils. He nods carefully, though, and looks down at the floor. “Thanks, Lou”, he mumbles and Louis wants to hit him, because no – no, no, no, he has no right to use Louis’ nickname around him any longer, lost that right long ago. He doesn’t though, of course he can’t. Instead, Louis swallows hardly and then pushes past Harry without as much as a second look. His arm burns where he brushes against Harry, but he ignores it and excuses his way over to where he spots his parents on the second row from the front.

He takes his seat without a word and keeps his eyes set on his hands on his lap to until he hears the music start playing – a song he think he’s heard far too many time for his age. But even then, as he raises his head to look at the bride he can’t help but to catch a glimpse of Harry where he’s stood to the side in the front, hands resting on his trousers, and suddenly he just wants to cry. Because as much as he likes to try to deny it, Harry is absolutely gorgeous, and, well, shit, Louis still has feelings for him. Maybe that’s what this whole thing has really been about for the past few months; trying to bury his feeling as deep down as possible and ignore them until they would simple go away on their own.

It doesn’t work like that, though, he realizes now. Because as he looks at Harry under his fringe, as he lets his eyes trail from his shiny, green eyes, down the slope of his nose and over the curve of his mouth, there’s no longer any point denying that he doesn’t feel anything for that boy.

So maybe he lied before. Maybe the reason he decided to stay involved Harry more than he would ever admit. Not that it matters though, because Harry’s got his eyes set on Gemma and as the room is suddenly filled with applause and the groom leans in to kiss the bride and that whole thing that somehow creates a marriage, Louis finally lets his eyes trail away from Harry.

Maybe he’ll find a way to sneak out as soon as the ceremony is over. He’s sure Zayn would take him in without questions if he showed up outside his eyes, shitfaced drunk and crying over an old boyfriend. He’s sure Zayn would understand because he always does.

So, that’s a plan then.

*

The plan is not working. There is not a single moment that he manages to escape the watchful eye of someone, whether it’s his mother or some old co-worker of his dad that won’t stop going on about how tall he’s gotten. Louis knows that a lie (he hasn’t grown an inch since his 18th birthday), but he smile politely at them all and feels at least a little thankful about having someone to chat with. It helps him keep his eyes and mind off Harry even if he does notice the dark curls swing by him every now and then.

The party is moved into the garden where several huge tents have been set up. There is a dining area and Louis can hear the sound of a handful of chefs stressing around to get things ready. There is a dance floor, a DJ booth and a bar which Louis supposes will be his best option for the rest of the night.

At the cling of a wine glass the guests all take their seats and Louis is happy he’s been placed with his back partly turned to the front tables where Harry is seated. He’s got Harry’s grandmother on his right, whom he has met once or twice before, and there is no deny that’s where Harry got most of his charm from. She talks to him throughout most of the dinner and he claps at the right moments after someone has finished their speeches and he bites his lip tight when Harry takes a stance and coughs into his fists before starting to talk about growing up with Gemma and what a beautiful bride she makes.

At the end of it all there is probably not a single dry eye in the room and Louis feels his nostrils flare as Harry takes a bow and then glances over at Louis for just a second before sitting down again. Louis doesn’t realize that he’s holding his breath until the old lady by his side tap his arm lightly.

Louis turns to her with a smile plastered to his face, but she looks past him at her grandson and then leans in to Louis to whisper, “He loves her very much. Harry has a lot of love in him, you know, but he doesn’t always know how to handle it with grace.”

Louis pulls back, his smile fading and lets out a dry little laugh that sounds fake even in his own ears. He finishes his meal in silence, listening to the people around him talking instead and the few times he peeks over his shoulder it burns his stomach and turns his cheeks pink as he finds that Harry is already staring.

The tables soon empty and people move to the dance floor. Louis stand aside to watch Gemma be led out onto the floor to share her first dance with her husband and he can’t help but smile at how she beams as they twirl around the floor. He ignore the memory of a time when Harry looked just like that as they spun around Louis’ room at 2 o’clock in the morning, trying to not step on each other’s feet.

The floor slowly fills up as the music changes into something catchier and the room is filled with laughter. It feels nice to be a part of it all, Louis supposes, even if he’s just an observer.

“Pictures!” someone calls out and Louis spins around just in time to watch a man with shoulder length hair and a camera thrown over his shoulder rush into the tent. He snaps a few pictures and Louis slowly moves backwards to avoid getting in any of them. It would just so happen to be that a tall figure is already standing right there and Louis hears the boy let out a small “ow” as he steps on his toes and crashes into his chest.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry”, Louis apologizes as he spins around, suddenly face to face with Harry for the second time this day, which surely is two times too many.

Harry looks down at him and then smiles. “I thought you’d left”, he says and Louis takes a step back to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well, I tried”, he says nonchalantly and Harry laughs at that. Louis doesn’t think he has any right to do that, but man does it feel good to make Harry laugh.

Louis can hear the constant clicking sound of a shutter going off behind him.

“Bride’s little brother, right?” the photographer is suddenly right there next to them and Louis looks up, surprised.

Harry nods carefully and glances between the guy and Louis. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good, good. Great!” the guy shouts out and flails his arms around himself. “I need to take your picture.”

Louis takes a small step back with the intention to blend into the crowd and leave Harry to do his thing, but then the photographer suddenly snaps his head at him.

“I’m just going to… uh, let you do your thin-”, he explains, but is caught off when the guy suddenly reaches out to grab him by his arm and pull him back again.

“No, no, no” he proclaims sharply in disagreement, “we need a dance partner for this one.”

And with those words Louis and Harry are shoved together and forced out onto the already crowded dance floor. Louis is still crossing his arms over his chest and Harry holds out his hand awkwardly around him, just barely touching his arms. Louis looks away, feels the irritation that’s been building up inside of him ever since he got here slowly starting to bubble over.

“Go on now!” the photographer calls out at them and raises his camera. “Make it look good!”

Harry looks down at Louis apologetically, and leans in to whispers, “Just put your arms around me. It’ll be quick.”

 Louis looks up at him and meets his gaze. He looks ashamed and very, very sorry, and Louis almost feels bad about it because this really shouldn’t be that big of a deal and he’s acting like he would be exposed to some deadly decease would he as much as touch Harry. 

He sighs audibly to let assure Harry that it’s just for the sake of the pictures, and then reaches up to place his arms around Harry’s neck. He feels the warmth of Harry’s hands land on the small of his back and press him a little closer.

“Great boys!” the photographer shouts and Louis hears the shutter go off a few times then, “Now just get a little closer together. And give me some chemistry!”

There is a part of Louis – a big one – that wants nothing more than to turn to the guy and punch the camera into his face because he didn’t show up here to attend some goddamn photo shoot, much less a photo shoot with Harry. But then he feels Harry fingers brush lightly against his back, calming, and Louis looks up at him briefly. He catches a smile from Harry and that is enough to make him take a small step toward him. Their chests are brushing together by now, and Louis thinks it should feel weird and suffocating, but instead finds that it just feels pretty nice.

“I’m sorry”, Harry suddenly mumbles over his head and Louis peeks up again. It’s something about the way he says it and the way he now meets Louis’ gaze with glossy eyes that tells Louis he’s not only talking about their current situation.

“It’s okay”, Louis mumbles and he’s not sure himself what he’s referring to.

They swing along with the music for a few moments, still in the sharp focus of the camera and Louis hears Harry let out a shaky breath against the top of his head.

“No”, he then breaths, “I know it’s not okay, Louis, but I’m sorry. For everything.”

Louis swallows hard to muffle the sound that still manages to escape his lips. “Harry…” he begins, not sure how to continue.

“You don’t have to say anything, Louis”, Harry says quietly. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No”, Louis then protests and flicks his gaze up at Harry again. “I do actually have to say something, because I wasn’t fair to you either. I mean, what you did what was-“, he bites his lips and shakes his head, not even sure how to explain it. He has a lot of strong words he could use, but they still don’t seem to be enough to make Harry realize what he’s done. Then again, maybe Harry doesn’t need someone to tell him. “But it wasn’t fair of me to not even let you explain”, he finally finishes and Harry sucks on his lower lip, still not looking at Louis.

“I made a mistake, Louis”, he then says shakily and Louis can hear the way his voice breaks a little. “I was drunk – and I know that’s no excuse – but I never meant to hurt you like this, Lou, I could never do that.” He looks down at Louis with tears in the corners of his eyes that sparkle in the candle lights.

“I know”, Louis breathes with his heart half way up his throat, “I know, Harry.”

And he really does. He knows Harry made a stupid mistake, and he knows he was wrong to not even give him a chance, to just storm out of the room at that stupid party and leave Harry crying and begging for him to come back behind him. It was just a lot at the moment, but three months is a long time and maybe Louis was wrong to blame everything on Harry.

Louis stares down at Harry shirt, at one of the button on his chest that is starting to come undone and slowly he leans his head against Harry, pressing his cheek to his chest right where his heart must be and lets out a heavy breath.

“Great, boys, there we have it”, the photographer says and gives them a thumb up, but Louis ignores him, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of Harry.

He can feel Harry’s breath running hot again the top of his head and down the back of his neck and he suddenly feels the soft pressure of Harry’s lip to his hair.

“He’s gone now”, Harry whispers a moment later, his hands lightly dancing over the small of Louis’ back. “You don’t have to…” he trails off and Louis lifts his head to look up at him.

“What if I want to?” he breathes and watches something sparkle in Harry’s eyes.

There is a slow song playing in the background and they swing slowly back and forth on their feet to it. Louis tightens his grip around Harry neck a little and feels Harry’s finger dig into his hips.

Harry swallows hard and ducks his head a little, brushing his nose ever so slightly against Louis’. He looks like he’s about to say something, but Louis beats him to it.

“I think I’m going to kiss you now”, he whispers and feels Harry let out a huff of air against his face, making goose bumps form down his neck.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that”, Harry breathes and lowers his face until his lips are hovering over Louis’, his hands now travelling further down his back.

Louis lifts himself onto the tip of his toes and closes the distance between, suddenly feels the soft pressure of lips against his own.  Harry’s lips feel warm and familiar and a bit like coming home, and god how he has missed this.

Harry lets out a small breath and Louis trails his tongue along his bottom lip carefully until he opens up. He pulls himself up until he’s pressed tightly against Harry’s chest, their tongues moving together, still a bit hesitantly.

“Oh, god, I’ve missed you so much”, Louis breathes as they break apart for a second and he sounds more wrecked than he’d like to. Harry just smiles and pulls him in again, sucking on his bottom lip and dragging his teeth over it carefully.

People must be looking, Louis figures, but can’t really find enough energy to care. He pulls Harry closer, cupping his hands around his face and jerking his hips forward. Harry breaks away at that, surprised, and looks at Louis with an arched eyebrow. Louis just laughs and lets his hand travel down Harry’s chest to grab his hand.

“Let’s go outside.” He grins – a lazy, crocked kind of smile – and Harry nods with his slightly swollen lip tucked in between his teeth.

*

The garden is empty apart from the few people hanging around right outside the tent, their cigarettes shimmering in the dark. Louis moves across the damn lawn with Harry’s finger intertwined between his own and his heart swelling in his chest.

The sky is clear above them and the moon hangs low over the treetops. Louis stops after a moment, right by the edge of a grove as he feels Harry tug at his hands.

“Hey, Louis?” he whispers and Louis turns around. Harry pulls him in closer, wrapping up Louis’ hands in his own.

“Yeah?”

Harry hesitates, looking like he’s about to say something, but then just leans down to press his lips hard against Louis’. Louis loses his breath for a moment, but quickly finds the rhythm of their lips moving together.

Louis can feel Harry pressing up against him, trying to get closer and closer. Louis backs up, pulling Harry with him by his neck, his tongue darting over Harry’s lips and into his mouth.

Louis can hear sticks and branches crushing under them and soon he feels the back of his head softly hit a large tree. Harry pulls back, his eyes glistering in the moonlight that manages to seep through the crowns of the trees. He brushes his thumb over Louis’ cheek, sending a shiver down Louis’ back, one that makes him weak to his knees.

“Louis”, he mumbles again and lean in until their forehead our presses together. He exhales and Louis can taste the breath on his tongue. Louis wants to pull him in again, connect their lips and then kiss down Harry neck, down his chest and lower and lower and lower.

He doesn’t, though, just stays still as Harry cups his hands around Louis’ face and stares into his eyes in such a longing way Louis barely remembers how to breathe.

Louis’ got his hands on Harry’s waist now, keeping him still and his torso pressed against his own. He lets his hands travel further down until they find the hem of his shirt and then they go back up again, this time trailing over hot skin. He feels the sweat pearls that’s started forming in the small of his back come apart at his fingertips and he pushed down a little harder until he can feel Harry against hip, big and hard and – okay, so if he wasn’t breathing before he must be on the edge of fainting now.

“Want you so bad”, Harry breathes against his face, “always have, Lou. Always.”

Louis shudders as the words come apart on his skin. Harry closes his eyes and Louis can’t see anything but the small twitches on Harry’s face as Louis jerks his hips forward, again and again. His lips fall open and a small moan escape his mouth and he doesn’t even look like he realizes.

Louis is so hot, can feel the sweat drops form at his hair line and his hair slowly losing its shape. For sure, it will soon lay plastered against his forehead.

In a swift movement he spins them around, pushing Harry up against the tree and continues to rut against his body, desperately looking for some kind of release to the growing erection in his pants. Harry keeps his eyes shut, clutching around Louis’ hips and meeting him halfway in every jerk of a hip.

Louis hurdles himself forward, his lips finding Harry’s neck and beginning to suck hard on the tender skin there. Harry leans his head back, stretching his neck and exposing veins Louis’ not even sure what to make of.

Fuckfuckfuck”, Louis hears Harry mumbles as he digs his teeth into his skin, making sure to leave marks for the whole world to see.

When he finally pulls back there are dark bruises splattered onto Harry’s milky white skin, easy to make out even in the faint beam of light. Louis grins and gets on his toes to kiss Harry again. His hands work shakily on getting Harry’s shirt open. When he gets stuck on the third one, Harry hands come up to grasp around Louis’, keeping them still. Louis pulls back for a second and finds that Harry is already staring at him. He looks so calm and dreamlike Louis almost wants to cry.

Because, fuck, he’s lived without this for so long and he’s not even sure how he managed. Shit, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been able to take a single full breath for these past months. He realizes now that he’s just been heaving for air this whole time, making his lungs scream for oxygen and finally, now, with Harry’s hands around his own, he can fill them up and taste the air in his mouth and – just, wow, so this is what it feels like the be alive.

Harry helps him unbutton the rest of his shirt with their eyes locked at each other and then Louis is leaning in again, lower this time, and kissing over Harry’s sharp collar bones. He trails his tongue over the tattoos that sit like doodles over his chest. He keeps his hands firmly around Harry’s waist and feels Harry tangle his fingers into his already messy hair.

His lips go ever the butterfly on his stomach and Louis falls softly to his knees, the wetness of the ground seeping through his trousers already. Not that he was planning on it, but now he definitely won’t be able to go back to the party.

Harry keeps his hands in Louis’ hair, but his head in presses against the tree again, his eyes shut softly as he exhales shakily. Louis unbuckles his belt and hooks his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s underwear.

He begins to tug everything down, struggling a little and curses Harry under his breath for wearing such tight trousers. Harry smiles down at him, biting his lip.

“Wouldn’t be the same without a little struggle”, he murmurs tugging at the small hairs in Louis’ neck.

Louis finally gets Harry’s trousers and pants down to his knees and feels Harry shudder a little at the cold breeze sweeping around them. Louis looks up at Harry and grabs around the base of his hard cock, tugging slightly and watching Harry’s mouth form into a small ‘o’ and feel his hands dig into the back of Louis’ neck.

Louis tugs up and down a few times, his lips pursed together. When he lets out a small, warm breath against the top of Harry’s cock, Harry has finally had enough.

“Oh, fucking hell, Louis”, he hisses and presses Louis forward by his neck. Louis grins, but takes Harry’s dick in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl over the slit and tasting the precome that’s leaking down Harry’s shaft.

Harry moans and curls his fingers into Louis’s hair and Louis licks down the side of his cock before taking him in again, going further this time. He bobs his head up and down, notices the way Harry is clenching is abs tightly and letting out shuddering breaths.

Louis pulls off for a seconds, pumps the length of Harry’s cock with his hand a few times. He looks up at Harry and catches his gaze briefly, glistering and shiny in the dark. Louis takes his head into his mouth again and continues to stare up at Harry, going deeper and deeper, his tongue swirling and licking and Harry looks like he’s about to explode, or maybe pass out.

Harry is the one to look away first. He clutches his eyes shut as Louis hollows his cheeks around his dick and lets his tongue play over the vein on the underside and sucks a little harder. He feels Harry jerk his hips forward and immediately grabs his hips to keep him in place.

Louis continues sucking and licking and Harry juts forward as much as he can until Louis can feel his cock hit the back of his throat.

“Shit. Lou- oh my god”, Harry pants and his grip around Louis neck is almost getting painful. Louis keeps going though, pulls back a bit and then takes Harry all the way down again. He hears Harry let out a long string of curses and feels the muscles of his stomach tense up and soon Harry is shooting into the back of Louis’ throat, hard.

Louis pulls back slowly, swallowing everything down and letting his tongue trail over Harry’s cock tentatively and his lips lock around the head of his dick. He pumps Harry a few times and hear him let out a soft whine above his head.

“Shit, Louis. Wow”, he stutters, still catching his breath. His eyes are glazy and he looks a bit dazed. Louis pulls off completely with a popping sound and smiles up at him. Harry bites his lip and his fingers trail over Louis jaw and up, going lightly over his wet lips.

Louis lets out a puff of air and pulls himself up by Harry’s biceps. Harry grabs around his arms once he’s stood up again and smiles fondly. They move a little closer and feels his still hard dick poke into Harry’s side. Harry looks down, frowning and then his hands are moving down, across his stomach to unbutton his trousers before disappearing below the waistband of his boxers.

Louis almost chokes on a sharp inhale and presses his forehead into the nape of Harry’s neck. He pants and whines quietly as Harry jerks him off in his pants, his large hand wrapping tightly around his cock.

It’s not long before he’s coming all over Harry’s hand, face buried into the taller boy’s neck and biting down softly on his skin to keep his moans at bay. It’s almost embarrassing, how little it takes to have him coming in his pants like a 13 year old boy just discovering his body parts, but then Harry hand is coming up over his back and pulls him in tightly. Louis sighs and falls into his body, buries his face in Harry’s neck. He can feel Harry pull his hand out of Louis’ pants and dry it off on his blazer. Louis chuckles quietly and looks up at Harry, all fond eyes and lazy smile.

“I guess we’re not going back inside then”, he says and Harry laughs, keeping his eyes on Louis.

“Think that could get a little awkward”, he mumbles into Louis’ face and kisses down the slope of his nose. Louis smiles and pulls Harry down to kiss him sweetly.

“Lou?” Harry asks against his lips and Louis just hums in response. Harry is holding him by his waist and Louis doesn’t think he’s felt safer in his whole life.  The darkness feels like a barrier around them, protective, and the faint sounds from the party are muted, far, far away.

“I love you”, Harry whispers and his eyes flutter open to look at Louis.

There is a moment of silence and Louis is pretty sure he’s heart is halfway up his throat, making it a little hard to breathe. His hands shake against Harry’s shoulders and he lets out a small laugh.

“You still got your pants around you ankles”, he says and glances down between them. Harry smiles quickly, a smile that doesn’t even come close to his glossy eyes. Louis doesn’t say anything more, but he notices the way Harry bites his lip tightly and swallows hard. His eyes dart around a little, finally landing on Louis again. Louis really wishes he didn’t know Harry well enough to be able to pin point the exact wrinkle that forms between his eyes when he’s trying to cover up his hurt, because it’s there right now.

“Come one”, Louis sighs at last and grabs hold of Harry’s hand. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Harry doesn’t restrain, just reaches down to pull up his trousers again. When he straightens out again his face is blank and Louis is scared he had ruined the whole moment. He forces himself to breathe past the lump in his throat and pulls Harry with him, out of the grove. Standing in the middle of the lawn, under the chilly moonlight, Harry stops and Louis turns to him slowly.

He twists a little swallows hard. There are words building up inside of him, hidden in the drum of a heartbeat, ready to escape him any moment. He wants so badly to repeat Harry’s words back to him, but he’s still scared, terrified even. There is a rip in his heart that appear a few months ago and it’s aching, burning, stinging like someone poured alcohol over it right now. Louis plays with his fingers over Harry’s hands and then turns his face upward.

And there he is, he thinks, his antidote. His curse and his addiction, too, but more importantly, the one person who knows how to save him. Louis takes a breath, feels the air heal his aching lungs.

“I love you, too” he says, not because he has to, or even because he wants to, but because it’s the one thing he’s even been sure of, only truth he’s even really known is real , as real as the stars freckling the sky above them.

Harry smiles faintly, but his whole face is glowing with happiness and Louis would give anything to be the reason he lights up like that every day for the rest of his life.

In the tent behind him the party is still going on, the sound of laughter and music erupting into the chilly night, soaring up, up, up towards the moon and the twinkling stars and Louis has never likes wedding because they’re cringe worthy and cliché, but maybe, he thinks, he wouldn’t mind walking down the aisle one day as long as he’d have Harry waiting for him by the end.

Actually, he thinks he wouldn’t mind that at all.