take my hand (take my whole life too)

take my hand (take my whole heart too)

Louis is awakened by a cold nose pressing into his neck and the tickle of curls against his skin. It's a gloomy sort of morning, but then again, it always is in London. Waking up to Harry is pretty much a guarantee that it'll be a little bit brighter, though.

"G'morning," he mumbles, slow and soft against Louis. "Did you sleep well?"

Louis can feel Harry's erection pressed against his back, so he laughs to himself, short and sharp, before rolling himself over so that he's straddling Harry, rolling his hips down against him.

"Yeah," Harry smirks, leaning up to kiss him. "Had very pleasant dreams."

Fucking Christ, this boy will be the end of him, Louis thinks, with those red lips and blown pupils on display. He chances a look sideways to where his watch is sitting sideways on the bedside table, and oh, fuck.

"Shit," he mumbles into Harry's mouth, "Haz, hold on."

Harry pulls back, pouting, "What?"

"Got a meeting with the publishers in like, an hour," Louis rolls off Harry and sits up. "Need to get ready."

Harry's frowning properly now, eyebrows all scrunched up like an adorable kitten.

"Hey, don't get pouty with me," Louis says. "We'll have plenty of time tonight."

He leans back over to kiss Harry again, nibbles down on his bottom lip, and Harry turns it from a sweet peck into something that has Louis gasping as he pulls away.

"I really have to get ready, Harry," Louis gets up and strips off on his way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel. Harry follows him, chattering as they go.

"Lou, I know how busy you are, but I remember we spoke about flying over to Nice for mum's wedding and you told me you'd let me know and, well. I just want you to meet my parents. For them to know what you mean to me." Harry looks almost nervous, and Louis hates to let him down like this, but.

It's kind of a huge commitment. His own family doesn't know he's even seeing someone and he sort of prefers it that way, despite how close he is with them. If he told them, there'd be all those awful questions about the future and how serious they are and Louis just wants to skip all that, have lazy morning sex and go to sleep with Harry next to him and pretend it isn't all awfully foreign and adult.

So he shakes his head as he turns the hot spray of the shower on, grimacing. "It's like I said, Harry, I'm still going to have so much going on, I've got a deadline that I need to be writing to, y'know? I can't just up and leave. You know how hectic it's all been. I'm sorry."

Harry just sort of stands there for a moment, an almost unreadable look on his face, and Louis can tell he's fucked up.

"It's okay," he replies, and walks out.

Fuck.

When Louis gets out of the shower, Harry's standing in their outdated linoleum kitchen in only his pants, idly flipping through the newspaper whilst wielding a frypan, and it's so typical Harry that Louis can't help but smile. He doesn't really know much about commitment, but he knows that he could get used to his.

"Like a good little househusband, you are," he says, smirking.

"Watch yourself or you won't get any eggs," Harry shoots back, and well, Louis would hate to miss out on Harry's cooking. Or any breakfast at all, for that matter. Louis is big on breakfast, has been since he was six and would start his Saturdays with a fry-up before heading out to play football with Stan and the other lads.

They eat in a sort of companionable silence, with thoughts on his book proposal running through Louis' mind like corners of a story that he can't pull together. Its sort of a dark, macabre novel set in a dystopian world, where a certain amount of people have the ability to cheat death and naturally, everyone goes fucking batshit. It's a big ask for a first-time author, and Louis is sort of bricking it.