Gods & Monsters

Chapter 16 (Part 3)

Louis snorts, even as he's texting the offer to Zayn, before wrapping Harry up, pulling him close to his chest. "I despise you," he grins, noses bumping. He can hear the clink of plates and pans in the kitchen—either Anne and Gem are cleaning up or they're making more food. Either prospect is nice, so lovely and nice.

"Love you, too," Harry mutters, smiling like a star. The tips of his cheeks are pink, his hair's a mussy mess of frizzy curls, and his breath smells like chocolate and peppermint.

Yeah, Louis definitely loves him.

"I'll help you make the cocoa," Louis says, just as Zayn texts back.

'Sure' it says. Then a moment later, 'My love will join me'

Pffft. How typically poetic of Zayn. It makes Louis smile—fuck, everything makes Louis smile. What a sap.

"Yeah," Harry nods, pleased, already getting up. His bones crackle like the fire. "That will be nice. And I'll light my new candles for the occasion!" He grins through his stretched-out yawn, arms lifted high above his head.

Pretty, pretty angel boy.

"Wild," Louis chuckles, fond, and Harry pinches him before he straightens, offering his hands.

"You're mean," he sing-songs, unbothered. "Now come help me in the kitchen, please."

"Yes, sir," Louis replies seriously as Harry hauls him up. Their chests bump and they laugh, unable to resist a quick kiss or three.

Their hands linger together as they make their way to the kitchen, hips bumping.

**

When Zayn and Niall arrive, Gemma and Anne are still in the kitchen listening to more Christmas tunes while putting the finishes touches on some last-minute meat pies; Harry and Louis are watching from their spot at the table, sipping large mugs of cocoa and resting warm hands atop each other. They really are like proper husbands, Louis reckons. It's a startlingly peaceful thought.

"Happy Christmas!" Niall sings happily once he enters, face split with a pink-edged grin. His hair's damp from snow and the tip of his nose is uncommonly red; he looks the spitting image of Christmas. Especially in comparison to Zayn, who's wearing a large black knitted stocking cap with ear flaps, lidded eyes gliding across the room inquisitively, hands deep in the pockets of his enormous orange jacket.

"It smells like prune juice," he comments seriously.

"I love prune juice," Niall exclaims, shrugging off his own jacket easily as he makes his way to the table. Louis kicks his feet back onto Harry's lap as he watches, amused, taking a sip from his mug. "It's better than you'd think, Z."

"I've never had it."

"Then how do you know what it smells like?"

"I dunno," Zayn shrugs, sitting down, his jacket still on. He stares at Niall, serious. "I just know. Just like I can taste sound. I just know."

Gemma blinks, pausing in her ministrations. "I'm sorry, did you just say that you can taste sound?"

Zayn and Niall both nod seriously. "It's a really rare gift," Niall boasts, looking proud as he flings an arm around Zayn's nimble shoulders.

"Yeah," Zayn agrees. "I'm pretty special."

Louis snorts into his mug, just as Harry giggles and turns to him, squeezing his knee.

"Oh, Brother Dearest," Louis smirks, shaking his head. "I'm so glad you and the husband have joined us. It's just not Christmas without your crystal-ball wisdom."