date night (l.s)

end

Harry's eyes don't leave the road, and Louis gets the feeling it's because of far more than just watching for pedestrians or stop lights. He closes his mouth, eyebrows coming together, because holy shit, those words are hitting him hard. Coming from Harry, they make Louis feel lighter than air in a frightening sort of way.

Harry's hand starts to shake, but he continues speaking regardless. "I meant it--what I said at that dinner table. I'm in love with you, Louis."

"Harry..." Louis wishes they weren't in a moving car, so that he could get the guy to look at him. He wonders if Harry would even if they weren't.

"Three years, and I can still remember the day, right down to the fucking minute that I--" He swallows, and Louis can feel the fear emanating from him. "That winter when we actually got a shit-ton of snow. You, all anti-cold and shit, with like six fucking layers of clothes on, standing outside of that damn school parking lot, holding a fucking coffee out for me." He laughs, a raspy and tense laugh. "I could barely see your face. But I could tell you were pissed that you were out there in the snow. But you knew I didn't want to be out there shoveling snow. You actually took the time, probably driving like...five fucking miles an hour, to get me a coffee before you went to work."

Louis remembers that day, and it fascinates him how accurately Harry has hit the nail on the head. All the way from the slow driving to the distaste for the bitter cold and snowflakes peppering his nose, Harry's got it down. He smiles despite the uneasiness of the other man's voice and demeanor. He even goes so far as to give Harry's hand a squeeze.

"And it's not even because you did that for me, Lou." Harry continues. "It's because I wanted to keep seeing you do shit like that for me. That stupid fucking scowl on your face that screamed 'you'd better thank me for this', and the awkward way you waddled through the fucking snow in that suit that looked like a sleeping bag. You make the best faces, and your heart comes out in the stupidest goddamn moments. And fuck anyone who says I shouldn't get to see that for the rest of my damn life."

Louis' finally starting to relax, especially now that he sees Harry is beginning to do the same. His eyes dart about the car, from Harry's face to the dashboard, to his own lap, and back up to Harry, just in time for him to pull the car over. Louis notices it's not in his driveway. He's just parallel parked along some random curb. But once he's at a full stop, he releases Louis' hand and turns to face him.

"I love you." He says again, before he leans across the gearshift dividing himself and Louis kisses him.

Louis swears the world around him disintegrates. The car stops existing, all the way from the seat beneath him. The cool air from the vent disappears. The night sky fades away, and all that matters is the hand suddenly on the side of his face and Harry's lips against his own. Louis can feel his nose on his cheek, the softness of his lips on his own, and the gentle tickle of his eyelashes on his skin as his eyes fall shut.

And it's just them. Just them and their own world and Harry's innate ability to somehow be so soothing and so goddamned erratic all at the same time. As he raises a hand to the back of Harry's neck and pulls him in closer, he feels the tension leave the other man's body. He relaxes, and Louis feels him exhale his relief through his nose. He cups both sides of Louis' face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, before he opens his mouth and moves in to deepen the kiss.

Louis falls further into the overwhelming sensation that can only be described as Harry with each time their lips come open and then mutually fall shut together again. Before he knows it, he's got his arms around the other man's neck, and he's the one shaking now. He breaks off the kiss and rests their foreheads together, his eyes shut and their shaky breathing the only sound in the car. The world feels as if it's trembling around them.