next to you ❀ l.s.

forty six - theirs

"Oh, I love this one! The ceilings are so high," Niall commented, clasping his hands together as he turned in a circle, absorbing every detail of the small apartment. "Much better than the last place. Mark my words, that death trap of a building will crumble in the next five years."

"I don't know, though. This one only has one bathroom, and Louis is definitely going to invite his family to visit soon. Imagine how that will go down with his sisters," Liam pointed out. His nose scrunched as he studied the paper that the realtor had handed him on their way in, tracing his index finger down the bullet points that described the listing.

"That is true. They do act like supermodels before a photoshoot in the mornings," the Irish boy conceded. He crossed the room in a few long strides, reaching out to brush his fingers over the chipped paint of the white trimming.

Liam nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "Exactly."

Niall glanced back over his shoulder, his fingers still dancing over the wall like he could just feel the rightness (or wrongness) of this apartment. "But you can't base everything on guests, Liam."

"I'm just considering all of the angles! All of the potential scenarios!"

"What about the scenario where Louis wants to fuck Harry in the bathtub?" he pointed out. "The last one didn't have a bathtub."

"Niall!" Louis and Harry both exclaimed at the same time.

He continued: "What about the scenario where --"

"Wait, wait!" Harry turned to Louis, raising his eyebrows at his boyfriend and pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Louis William Tomlinson. I swear to God, I will murder you in your sleep. Have you talked to Niall about our sex life?"

"Jesus, no," Louis scoffed immediately. He shot Niall a jealous glare, annoyed by the thought that the Irish boy had pictured Harry in any sort of sexual light. "No offense, Ni, but you're the biggest blabber mouth I've ever met in my life."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, glancing suspiciously between the two boys. He ignored Liam's awkward cough. "How does he know who tops, then?"

Niall deadpanned. "Harry. Come on, mate."

"What about the fact that Harry would barely have any room to work in this kitchen? There isn't nearly enough space for him to move around," Liam interjected, intentions as pure as ever. "I mean, honestly. There isn't even enough counter space for two cups of tea."

Niall shrugged, brushing Liam off immediately. "Well, there are only two of them anyway --"

"Guests!"

As the other two bickered on, Louis sighed, irritated, and he reached out for Harry, gathering his boyfriend to his chest and squeezing him in close. "Remind me why we invited them again?"

Harry giggled, muffling the sound in Louis's shoulder. "Because they have valuable insights."

"About our sex life."

"And ceilings and countertops!"

"They sound like middle-aged housewives before their first divorce."

Harry snorted. "Like I said. Insights."

"Bathtub sex?"

With a shrug, Harry confessed, "I do love a good bath."

Louis sighed again, this time more fond than annoyed as he replied, "I know you do." He linked his arms securely around Harry's waist and rested his chin on the younger boy's shoulder as they watched their friends argue over cabinets and wood flooring.