Archive of Our Own ^beta

The weather had started to clear up. One hoped that it would have by now, given it was almost summer, but England could be temperamental. The sun had started to shine more, and the cool weather had begun to lift. Having just spent a better part of the month writing and recording in Costa Rica, London was a pleasant, comforting change. Returning home had always felt fulfilling to Louis. The world didn't require so much of him when he came home.

"Fuck!" Louis exclaims as a splash of hot water catches his wrist.

He quickly moves to the tap to run his wrist under cold water before assessing the damage. Nothing catastrophic, thankfully. Nothing that a cup of tea wouldn’t fix, anyway, but after a moment of rifling through old groceries in the fridge that definitely needed to be thrown out, he frowns as he realises he has no milk.

"Fuck." He murmurs under his breath again.

He'll have to brave going out to get some; thankfully, it is late, so he doesn’t think there’ll be anyone out and about, but you never know. All he wants is a cup of tea and a good night's sleep to get rid of the jetlag. The last thing he needs is to bump into someone. He grabs a cap, shoving his unkempt hair into it before getting his keys and heading to the door.

The drive to the local Sainsbury's was fairly uneventful, as there didn't tend to be much traffic at 10.30 pm at night in this neighbourhood. The shop itself is dead quiet, and the employees look as though they are counting down the minutes until 11pm when they can close. Louis pulls his cap lower over his head by force of habit on his way through the doors. He isn’t actively trying to hide, but he definitely isn’t trying to be noticed either. Not like the last time he'd been here, at least. He considers grabbing a basket before forgoing one and heading straight to the dairy section. He hasn't even been standing there for a moment before he can feel the presence of another person. Deciding to keep to himself, he continues scouring the chilled shelves, quickly trying to locate his usual brand. As he reaches up to grab a bottle, the person next to him catches his peripheral vision.

"Oh- Hi."

Louis freezes, turning ever so slightly to the left.

"Hi Harry," Louis murmurs weakly, giving him a small smile that neither of them believes.

Out of all the scenarios that Louis had run through tonight, running into his ex had not been one of them. He casts his eyes down to the ground to avoid making eye contact with Harry again and scuffs his shoe into the floor a few times. Just as he makes to look up again, his eyes catch onto bright yellow shoes. Only Harry fucking Styles could wear stupidly yellow shoes that look, frankly, absolutely awful and still manage to somehow pull them off. Louis is pulled from his daze as Harry begins to speak again.

"Didn't know you were back home." Harry's voice carries an uneasy tone, yet it isn’t unsteady. It’s almost accusatory.

"Flew in yesterday." Louis shrugs, turning to face Harry completely now. He can feel the bottle of milk beginning to sweat in his right hand.

"Did you have a good time?" It's almost said through gritted teeth, but Louis knows Harry better than that. He knows that Harry hardly ever lets it show in the moment if something is affecting him unless it really upsets him. It was one of the things he hated about the man. It is also one of the things he admired most about him.

“Of course you did, it’s always a good time when someone’s trying to stick their fucking tongue down your throat.” Harry cuts in before Louis can respond.

It is definitely said through gritted teeth. He is really upset then.

Louis opens his mouth to speak, stops himself and then opens it again. Conveniently ignoring the second half of what Harry had said, Louis begins to nod slowly.

"Yeah, had a good time. Wrote a lot, recorded even more. Weather was nice." Louis almost whispers.

He knows that isn't what Harry wants to hear. He knows Harry wants him to lash out defensively like he’s been known to in the past. He knows Harry is fishing for more information, but right now, Louis is just too exhausted to humour him. He can feel Harry's eyes boring into him as he stands beside him, swimming in their awkward silence.

"Happy for you." Harry scoffs before he grabs a bottle of oat milk and promptly storms off down the aisle.

It's as if he can't be bothered dealing with Louis. As if he's just too exasperated to even stand in his presence. Louis looks back down at the shelf that contains the oat milk. He hates the stuff. He can't tell the difference between regular milk and the oat alternative anymore after years of living with Harry and being subjected to the stuff, but he still hates it. What he hates more is that he can’t control the glaze over his eyes as he watches Harry walk away. Again.

Louis doesn't see Harry again after that. Either he leaves the shop before Louis, or he continues through the aisles after him. Regardless, the interaction leaves Louis feeling even more hollow than before, and by the time he pulls into his driveway, he can barely recall driving himself home.

His now complete cup of tea was doing nothing to soothe the ache in his chest either. He hoped that Harry would know better; that he would know what was real and what wasn't. Then again, Louis himself often struggled to find the separation between the two. It's almost debilitating, and he hates it so much. He can't help but remember that the bad parts always felt so much better when Harry was there. They were actually bearable then, and, if he’s honest, the good things that do arise from those impaired situations actually feel good. It's so much easier to stay positive when you genuinely feel good about yourself and your life.

He hadn't lied to Harry, though; the writing and recording had been so fulfilling. It was a feeling he had always found immensely rewarding. He was so excited about his current work, but the experience always felt so much better when the person the work was dedicated to was sitting beside you. It simply felt better when the world wasn’t trying to publicly tear you apart for things that were already tearing you apart in secret.

Louis runs his tattooed hands over his face and sighs before tipping the rest of his tea down the drain and dragging himself up to his bedroom. Perhaps if he slept, the horrible feeling of longing would dissipate. However, Louis wasn’t naive. He knows his dreams would be plagued by a soft smile and a gentle heart, but he gives in anyway. If he can’t have what he wants whilst coherent, why not let his subconscious self have everything he wishes he could have back? God, he feels so drained from the never-ending cycle of intense highs and then extreme lows. Nothing ever felt constant anymore. His life is so good, and he knows that. He appreciates just how good it is. But some days just feel so dreadful. They never used to feel this bad. In fact, back then, even the bad days felt good.

But since Harry had left…

Louis turns the light on in his bathroom and steps into its bright glow. His reflection gapes back at him from the mirror. The red rims of his eyes and the bags underneath are glaringly obvious tonight; partially to do with the jet lag, obviously, but he couldn’t pin all the blame on that. He can’t continue going like this. He has to do something about it.

With his hands trembling ever so slightly, Louis picks up his phone. He was sick of letting things that weren’t his own actions dictate his life. He was sick of seeing other people living parts of their lives that he so desperately wanted to have. It isn’t fair that he can't have those things, too.

Just as he clicks into his contact list, his phone rings. His heart stutters slightly, but he takes a deep breath and answers the call and opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t even get a word out.

“I’m so sorry. God I- I'm so, so sorry, Louis.”

Louis sucks in a breath. Harry’s voice is soft and apologetic, but the thing that Louis loves most about him is that he cannot detect an ounce of pity in his tone. Harry never pitied Louis, and he clearly still doesn’t.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was surprised to see you today, and I’d seen those stupid, stupid videos, and I know I have no right to behave like that because we aren’t together anymore. I know it was me who ended it, but I still get so wound up seeing these things. You look so happy in those photos, the way you were looking at her, the way you had your hands on her. And I know, I know it’s not fair, but Lou- Louis you have to understand that it’s still hard, but there’s still no excu-”

Louis cuts him off.

“Harry, Harry, breathe,” he says gently.

“Yeah, yeah, god, sorry.” Harry does as he’s told, slowly leaving his hysterical state, but Louis can hear that his breathing is still rapid on the other end of the line.

“Stop apologising. It’s fine, I get it.” Louis reprimands feebly. It isn’t fine at all. None of it is fine.

“No, Louis, we promised after everything that we’d stay on good terms and I was a dick earlier and I’m so sorry,” Harry replies firmly. “It’s so ridiculous of me to act like this when-” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. Though he continues speaking anyway.

“I am happy for you, Louis, I promise, and I hope she won’t be upset that your ex is ringing you at midnight or anything, but I couldn’t let you go on without explaining myself.” His voice is shaky, and Louis can feel the hurt through the phone. As much as Harry’s right… He’s also very wrong.

“Thanks, H, but um- we’re not- I’m not-. I-” He struggles to get the words out.

“No, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Louis,” Harry assures before Louis can finish. “I’m not a baby, I should be able to handle seeing my ex-boyfriend with a new person. It’s bound to happen at some point, you know?”

“Harry, fuck, let me finish.” Louis chuckles, but there’s nothing humerous about it. “We’re not together, me and her, I mean, and even if we were, you’d still have the last laugh because she has a terrible public image and no one likes her. I don’t even like her.”

“Oh- I…” But Louis continues speaking.

“Oli hates her, keeps asking why we had to pick her out of everyone and why her face doesn’t move, and I have to tell him to shut up before she goes and rats him out to the whole world.” Louis laughs faintly, and this time it’s more genuine.

“She made a playlist for you.” Harry snorts.

“She what?” Louis asks incredulously.

“Fontaines, Arctic Monkeys, Paolo Nutini. The lot.” Harry mumbled. “She added our songs to it. She doesn’t even have green eyes.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Louis questions, before quickly regretting it.

“No, I’m joking.” Harry deadpans.

“Sorry, sorry.” Louis teases gently. “Perhaps she thinks there’s summat more going on here than there is,” Louis says and Harry hums in response. They’ve both seen it happen with stunts in the past, where they seem to think the arrangement is somehow genuine.

“Anyway, Lou, again I am really sorry. The fact that it’s not true makes the way I acted even worse because let’s face it, I should know better, but it just really-” Harry trails off.

“Harry, it’s fine, but I just don’t understand. I don’t get it with you.” Louis sighs deeply. “You can’t just end our relationship, but claim we stay civil and then do this to me.” He frowns.

“I- Louis I thought it was the right thing to do for us. It is the right thing to do. But I thought I’d get over it, and I’m beginning to see that’s not the case.” Harry responds meekly.

“H, it’s been 15 years of us going back and forth, and we never get over it. I hate seeing you with other people, and you clearly feel the same way. I just don’t get why we can’t fix whatever’s going on here. I love my life, Harry, but I hate it when I want you and you're not there.” Louis’ tone is coloured with hurt but also hope.

“If we could magically fix all our problems, Louis, you wouldn’t have gone to Costa Rica with a fake blonde.” Harry snaps. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushes, and Louis sighs again.

“Please, Harry, just consider what your issues are at this point in our lives, because in the past, I’ve absolutely been able to see them. But now, I have no idea why you walked away. I don’t get why you don’t want to want me. You can’t possibly expect me to understand why you're calling me like this, when you constantly give me the implication that you don't care.” Louis sounds exhausted again, almost whining at Harry to take him back.

His desperation is embarrassing, but he doesn’t care. He’d been with enough people to know Harry was the only person. He’d been apart from Harry enough times to know that even the worst moments with him were better than being without him. He was just so tired of fighting for something that was so close yet so far away.

There’s a loud silence for a moment before Harry speaks again, and Louis can hear Harry silently considering his words; the decisions he is clearly trying to make. There are so many unanswered questions.

“Of course I care,” Harry whispers. “I care about you so much,” He continues, and Louis can hear him beginning to get emotional.

“Then why...” Louis trails off.

He doesn’t even know what he was going to ask, but he knows this can’t be solved with a simple phone call.

“Can I come round?” Harry asks quietly, and Louis almost misses it, then again, he could never miss anything Harry said.

“Yea, baby, why don’t you?” Louis agrees, nodding even though he knows Harry can’t see him. He agrees so strongly with Harry coming home that the term of endearment slips out before Louis can stop himself.

“Come over,” Louis repeats as he hears Harry grabbing his keys over the phone.

The sound of the digital pin unlocking Louis’ front door has Louis rushing into his hallway, and as the door opens, he breathes a sigh of relief. Nothing ever feels more like coming home (or going to war) than being in Harry’s space. This time, it feels like coming home. Nothing ever feels more real or more grounding than being so close to his face that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, smiling that gorgeous soft smile that always makes Louis weak at the knees.

“Hi, baby.” Louis matches his tone and his smile, letting the term of endearment slide again, albeit this time more intentionally.

Harry steps forward, closing the door behind him. It makes a soft click as it shuts, and the robotic voice tells them it's locked.

“I missed you.” Harry smiles, looking relieved, and Louis nods in agreement.

Louis goes in first, hovering close enough to kiss. He waits, in case Harry doesn’t want it, but Harry quickly moves in too. They really should talk, but Harry just looks so good. Louis can properly admire him now that he’s not cowering beside him in a Sainsbury’s. His hair is short, and he’s let his moustache grow out. He’s still wearing the yellow shoes from earlier, but Louis doesn’t seem to dislike them so much now that they’ve carried Harry home.

With his left hand, he grasps Harry’s waist. His right hand goes to the nape of his neck to toy with Harry’s almost-curls, before he leans all the way in.

The kiss is gentle at first as Louis savours the soft warmth of Harry’s lips, but then Louis tilts his head, and the grasp he has on the back of Harry’s neck becomes firmer. Together they gasp into each other, and it suddenly feels uncomplicated and easy. Harry matches Louis’ pace as they both begin to eagerly lick into each other’s mouths. Louis brings his hand down from Harry’s neck to join his other one as he wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him in tightly.

“Fuuuuck baby, I missed you more.” Louis moans into the kiss.

Harry’s hands come up to the back of Louis’ head, his fingers weaving through the greying hair as Louis simultaneously moves his hands up Harry’s waist to his chest and then back down again.

“Can you actually feel my lips moving? Do they feel real?” Harry giggles into the kiss, and Louis throws his head back as he laughs.

“Yeah, baby, I can feel all of you,” Louis replies softly as he leans back in for another kiss. The endearments flow freely now.

Harry allows him to indulge before breaking away again, making Louis groan in protest.

“Look, my jaw and forehead move too.” Harry teases, raising his brows with a smug little grin.

“Don’t talk about her while I’m kissing you. In fact, don’t talk about her ever.”

Harry has the decency to look slightly guilty before his expression is filled with want and need again, and he dives back in.

“Stay this time,” Louis murmurs as he breaks away to take a breath, resting his forehead against Harry’s.

“Can’t have you living with someone who voted to leave the EU.” Harry jokes.

“Harry!” Louis exclaims. “I’m being serious.” He pouts, but his tone indicates his sincerity and his vulnerability.

“Yeah, I think I’ll stay this time.” Harry agrees, pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ lips as if to seal the deal. “Though we have a lot to talk about.” He presses.

“We do.” Louis hums. “But I’d rather spend a lifetime talking it through with you, knowing I had a chance, than spend the rest of my days without you,” Louis adds as he brushes his nose gently into Harry’s just to stay near him.

It was always infinitely easier to get by when they were taking on the world two steps at a time, side by side. The deafening sound of life quietened significantly when they could share the load. It was hard, living the life they did. It was even harder facing pressures that hardly anyone else could even begin to comprehend. But it was all just that much easier when they could confide in each other. When they could come home to each other. When the only person who sees you for who you truly are and not for your public image is dancing in your kitchen in the shortest shorts you’ve ever seen, the battles just get that much easier to fight. Knowing that no matter who you might have to hold for a Backgrid photo, you’ll only be thinking of that one person waiting for you at home. When the only other person who could possibly understand how quickly the negativity and toxicity can accumulate is either in your bedroom or a phone call away, life feels simple. Life feels, dare he say it, normal.

And they do have a lot to talk about. A lot to address and a lot to explain, but that’s easier when you know that afterwards you can go back to constantly orbiting each other. You can go back to pulling each other in. Constantly enjoying each other and taking each day as it comes.