A Night in Hollywood

Welcome To New York

November tenth came quicker than Louis had expected. Before he knew it, he had a suitcase packed and was standing with the rest of the crew at Los Angeles International Airport, soon ready to leave.

Harry was there, of course, and Louis' eyes stuck to him. The pull was still there. Ever-present. He could just give in one final time. It couldn't hurt anyone. He was so close to just giving in. This was getting unbearable.

He almost wanted Harry to just make a move so he wouldn't have to initiate himself. Unfortunately, Harry respected that Louis had said no to any more activities.

That fucker.

How dare he be raised well.

They boarded the plane, Paramount's private, and of course, with Louis' luck, the only spare seat was next to Harry.

Harry had already taken the seat by the window as Louis sat down.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi," Louis said. "Guess we are gonna sit next to each other for five hours."

"Suppose so," Harry said. "A problem?"

"Plenty." Louis fastened his belt. "But I'll live."

"You sure will." Harry crossed his legs, his shin merely touching Louis' leg.

Louis swallowed. Fuck.

The plane began moving, driving toward the runaway.

Louis' body began shaking a bit. He fucked hated aeroplanes.

Five hours.

In the air.

"Hey, you alright?" Harry asked as the plane began to pick up speed. The landscape rushed past outside the window.

Louis nodded. "'M fine."

"You're clearly not. You're dead pale."

"Just not a big fan of aeroplanes," Louis admitted. "I have all these scenarios in my head about what could go wrong."

The plane began to take off and, in panic, Louis grabbed Harry's arm, clutching at his wrist. "Sorry." He let go.

"Hey, it's fine," Harry said and held out a hand. With a smirk, he said, "You can squeeze my hand to death, darling."

Louis gritted his teeth. "Never."

The plane made a weird movement as it flew into the sky.

Louis grasped Harry's hand, squeezing hard.

"That's what I thought," Harry said, the smirk still ever-present.

"You're a real pain right now," Louis said. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

"Sorry," Harry said. He sounded... sincere. "Want me to try and distract you?"

"Why are you suddenly being so kind?" Louis asked. "Do you have any second motives?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm planning to kill you in New York, might as well give you a few last bearable hours."

Louis actually laughed. "You're something, Styles."

"I know. So, do you want me to distract you or not?"

Louis exhaled and made the mistake of looking out the window. "Yes. Please."

Harry wet his lips. "Please, huh? I've heard that before."

Louis' face turned crimson. He remembered all too well how they had both been in those minutes. Begging, needing, taking. "Shut your mouth, Styles."