A Plane in the Ass

Four

"And then you met me." Louis repeats and tilts his head to the side, making the beanie fall of his head a little bit more, "What was your first impression of me?"

"Are you sure you want to know that?" Harry asks raising his eyebrows at the small boy. 

Louis shrugged, "Yeah, I'll tell you what I first thought of you."

"What did you first think of me?" Harry asks.

"No, you first."

"Why?"

"Because I asked first."

"But I just shared my entire shitty morning with you." Harry argues and then stops, "We really can't go thirty seconds without arguing huh?"

"More like twenty seconds," Louis points out, proving Harry's point.

"Fine, when I first saw you I thought, I want the window seat."

"That's all? Nothing about my good looks?" Louis flashes him a cheeky grin and Harry shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the tension.

"Nope."

"You're lying." Louis decides, "If you didn't draw me I would believe you, but since I saw the drawing, and might I add I looked hot, I can not believe that is the truth."

"Hot?" Harry scoffs, "You were curled up like a little bean."

"I was cold."

"I thought you were hot." 

"Oi," Louis says and gently hits Harry's arm with his own. The contact made them both freeze as Harry felt a spark travel up his arm and into the middle of his stomach. 

"Can I see the drawing?" Louis asks trying to break the awkward moment.

Harry's hand instinctively went to his sketchpad. "I don't think so."

"Come on, why not? It's my face after all."

"And it's my drawing," he said protectively. He couldn't show Louis the sketch, as he said before, it was an invasion of privacy and embarrassment was not a feeling Harry enjoyed experiencing.

"Please?"

"Not going to happen and don't even try to whip out your puppy-dog eyes on me because it's not going to work this time," Harry said watching Louis slowly jut out his lower lip. "So what was your first impression of me?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I- uh," Louis thinks for a moment and then says, "You had curly hair."

"So observant." Harry rolls his eyes. 

"Well, that's what I thought," Louis says. "Why are you afraid of flying?"

"I, oh um, I just never really liked it. People are supposed to stay on the ground."

"Do you really want the window seat?" Louis asks slyly.

"Yes, I'll do anything." Harry practically begs.

"Show me the sketch and the seat is all yours."

Harry groaned, he should have known. He walked right into that one. 

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we see that the storm is starting to clear up so we are expecting to be up in the air within the next four hours. We are just waiting for the planes ahead of us to file out." the announcement crackles through the quiet aircraft, where most of the passengers had gone to sleep.

"Damn it." Harry mutters, "Fine and only because I really might puke if I don't get the window seat." he slides his sketchpad over to Louis who takes it up into his small hands and flips to the page where Harry had drawn him.