Imagine #2
Like it's your birthday
Summary:
"You know," Harry drawls, shuffling around so he's facing Louis, their noses touching. "We could arrange that."
"What? A gangbang?" Louis stares at Harry, searching his expression for signs that suggest Harry isn't actually serious about this, but nope, there's none. His eyes are as clear as ever, and his lips aren't quirking like they always do when he cracks a joke. "You can't be serious."
Or, Louis gets a gangbang for his 23rd birthday.
Written by:
Anonymous on Archive of our own.
Just like get ready for the intensity level rn.
____________________________
Bitter December chill has infiltrated Louis' home in London, which means his feet are cold, his nose is red, and Harry is taking too fucking long making them tea. Louis buries himself under the thick duvet, trying to trap the warm air underneath. It's some time in the early afternoon, but he doesn't have any obligations for the day, and Harry doesn't have anything on until the evening, so they've taken the chance to spend the day in bed doing nothing. Except Louis can't get comfortable because Harry's not in the bed right now. He keeps shifting, and every time he moves a frigid draft of air creeps under the covers.
"Babe," Louis calls out weakly, poking his head out from under the duvet. "What's taking so long?"
"Just a sec!" Harry yells back, and it's another minute of movement in the kitchen before Louis hears Harry walk back to their bedroom, the quiet ruffle of his slippers on the carpet. He hands one mug to Louis, keeping the other for himself, and pulls a hot water bottle out from underneath his shirt to hand to Louis. "Needed to boil the kettle twice," Harry explains.
Louis grunts his thanks and presses the hot water bottle to his belly, curling around it. Warmth spreads from his stomach through his limbs, enough that when Harry slips under the covers too, the burst of cold air isn't even that bad.
"Put it between us," Harry huffs, trying to get the bottle from Louis grip without spilling either of their drinks. "Don't be a dick, Lou."
"Fine." Louis takes a sip of tea and puts the mug to the side, rearranging himself so he's spooning Harry, the hot water bottle against his belly and Harry's back. "Better?"
Harry hums, tugging the blanket tighter around them. He sets his own mug on the dresser and presses back into Louis. "I can't believe it's December already."
"We've got such a busy month," Louis whines, nuzzling his face into Harry's neck. They don't have too long in London before it's trips to continental Europe and the States for promo appearances and concerts to perform. December's always busy, bar the few days off they get for Christmas and Louis' birthday.
"What do you want to do for your birthday this year?" Harry asks, like he read Louis' mind.
Louis mouths at Harry's neck while he thinks. "Nothing too big. We can go for dinner with my family like normal, and the other lads can come over for drinks the night before."
"We'll have to fit it into the schedule," Harry sighs. "What about presents? Anything you fancy?"
"You always ask me, and I never know what to say," Louis murmurs. They're rich enough to buy each other whatever they want ten times over, so thinking of things to ask for isn't easy. Gifts with sentimental value are worth infinitely more these days. "You think of something."
