next to you ❀ l.s.

sixty one - home

"That's the last of it!" Louis announced, dropping a medium-sized box onto the kitchen counter. He wiped his shiny forehead on the bottom of his shirt, removing the thin shimmer of sweat that had covered his face. "Has anyone ever told you that you have way too many books?"

"That's your own damn fault!" Harry called from the other room, laughing. "You're the one who gave me half of them!"

"You better drop that attitude, young man!" Louis shot back, laughing even as he spoke. Harry was much less sensitive to indirect triggers now, but Louis was always careful; in fact, he was always careful without even thinking twice about it anymore.

Harry entered the open living room with a smile on his face, and relief crashed through Louis's shoulders without him even realizing it. "No, I don't think I will," he replied, closing the distance between them in a few short strides and linking his arms behind Louis's neck. "You need to stop buying me books."

Louis hummed thoughtfully, his pursed lips twitching in amusement. "No, I don't think I will."

They finished unpacking (mostly, not including the pile of boxes shoved into the far corner of the bedroom), and then Louis arranged the living room while Harry started cooking. When the knock came at the front door, two short taps followed by a muffled laugh, every breath of warm air was sucked from the room. Any excitement had vanished. Harry looked pale as a ghost.

"Oh, no. Why is Liam always early?" he fretted. Frantic, he rearranged the plates on the counter one last time, staring at them intensely, like they might move if he looked away. "Are you sure we should use your hexagon dishes? They really are strange, and I'm not sure --"

"Stop," Louis chided, pressing his lips to the younger boy's temple, easily settling his nerves. "It looks perfect. Everything looks perfect."

Harry had his lower lip tucked between his teeth when he mumbled in return, "You look perfect."

The knock came again, a bit louder this time. Niall had never been particularly patient, either.

The sound seemed to snap Harry out of his nervous trance, and he hurried across the large room to answer the door. His tumultuous spirits skyrocketed when the door swung open to reveal their friends' excited faces, both smiling ear to ear.

"All settled?" Liam asked with a proud grin.

Before either of them could respond, Niall had pushed his way into the apartment, his eyes wide as saucers. "Holy shit, lads, this place looks even better with all of your stuff in it! I was worried that Louis's ugly couch would ruin the open space --"

"Oi, leave my couch alone!"

"-- but it still looks lovely. And, oh," he sighed, placing one palm flat to his chest. "Harry's chair matches the ugly couch. That's true love if I've ever seen it."

"Shove off," Louis replied. When he glanced at his boyfriend, he found that Harry was beaming, all flushed cheeks and dimples.

And, yeah, he was all settled. Every piece had fallen into place. Louis was exactly where he was meant to be.

They gathered around the kitchen counter with heaping plates of food, commenting on their odd mix of decorations and complimenting Harry's cooking (as he deserved -- he had made Niall's favorite chocolate chip cookies, and after Niall hugged Harry for the third time, Louis officially banned any more affectionate gestures of gratitude). The sun sank and sank and sank until it dipped behind the horizon, leaving the kitchen dimly-lit by the overhanging light alone.

"You're being ridiculous," Louis was somewhat-playfully arguing with Liam. They had gotten on the topic of fate, and naturally, the two boys had to take opposite positions on the matter.