relief next to me (by dolce_piccante on ao3)

24

"What are you doing?"

"Um." Louis' fingers loosened enough for a book to drop into a cardboard box. He sat back on his feet and peered upwards. "Packing books?"

Harry's brows pinched tighter together to form a wrinkle across his forehead. He shook his head, his hair fluffing around his blue and red head scarf. He dragged his pointer finger from left to right over the remaining books on the shelf.

"But you're not putting them in order." He adjusted one book with a tiny shift of its spine. "They were in an order."

Louis looked from the half empty bookshelf to the nearly full cardboard box. He rubbed his hands over the top of his thighs.

"Right, but, uh..." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Aren't you going to have to put them in a new order anyway once our books are combined?"

Harry prodded Louis' arse with his toes.

"You own books in paper form?"

Louis' eyes rolled from the books to Harry's face. Harry hid his mouth with his hand but his deep dimple peeked out from behind his fingers, his curved eyes shimmering.

"Very funny. I own..." A beat passed and Louis scrunched his fingers on the bony top of Harry's foot. "At least five actual copies of books." Harry laughed, hopping backwards and lifting his leg. "Whether I have books or not, we're still moving all our shit and throwing it together at the same place. Does it really matter how books are packed when you're going to unpack them in a couple weeks?"

"I just," Harry got down to his knees and stuck his hand into the box of books, "had them in an order. Fiction. Non-fiction. Cooking. Comics." He switched two books around and picked up a stack of comics. He placed them on top of a heavy textbook on French pastry, smoothing his hand over the plastic covering. "I don't want to forget anything."

Louis sat back on his heels, his palms flat on the tops of his thighs.

"Are you seriously concerned about this?"

"I'm only trying to be organized for the move."

"We're temporarily placing items in boxes before we then unpack them in a matter of days. I think your robot comics will survive rubbing elbows with The Joy of Cooking."

Harry cradled a paperback to his chest and reached for another hardcover cookbook.

"Don't make fun of my robot comics."

Louis fought a smile but Harry's pouty face made laughter bubble in his belly.

"I'm not making fun of them. Besides, it's not like this building will be bulldozed the minute you leave. Niall and Ed are going to be here. I'm pretty sure they won't mind if you come by to pick up a book you left."

"Well, we're not leaving anything behind."

Louis glanced at the overflowing boxes of bubble wrapped kitchenware. His lips twitched.

"Yeah, of course not."

Harry tilted his head to bring his face into Louis' line of vision.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Louis chuckled, holding his palms out. Harry stared at him, not blinking, his brows arching higher. "I'm just..." Louis smiled and stifled another laugh, his voice shaking with amusement to admit, "You have a lot of cooking stuff, that's all."

"I'm a chef. Of course I have lots of cooking things. You don't seem to mind when you're eating the food I make."

Louis' eyes widened, a surprised sound clucked out of his throat.