Falling In Manchester

Chapter Twenty-One - Harry

They returned home to Manchester on December twenty-sixth. The train ride was quickly over with, and from there they took a cab to Louis' apartment. For a couple of hours, Harry stayed there but then decided it was time to go home. He needed to clean the whole apartment so it was shining for when Niall would return home the following day.

So he did, while of course FaceTiming Louis at the same time. They didn't hang up when he cooked dinner. Or when he went to shower—which led to some very fun phone sex. And he didn't hang up once he went to bed, so they ended up sleeping on the phone together.

The next couple of days, Harry worked. The snow had melted, leaving back a boring, grey city. Louis and he spent as much time together as possible. And on New Year's Day, he came over early to assist Harry in making a suitable dinner. At night they were going to a New Year's party, once again hosted by Louis' mate, Stan.

"Are you gonna let me go?" Harry asked.

"Nuh-uh." Louis tightened his hold around Harry's waist, his thighs caging Harry against the counter. Not that Harry minded much.

"I need to finish cooking," Harry said. "The boys will be here soon."

"The food is already in the oven," Louis said. "No more cooking for the next... half hour."

"There's dishes."

"We can do those later. Right now there's not long time left before our little paradise is invaded—"

"Niall and Amelia are in Niall's room."

"Invaded. In the meantime, I would like to kiss you. Just a little bit. Please?"

Harry shook his head fondly, resting his forehead against Louis'. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long," Louis murmured. "We don't have a lot of time left."

Harry hummed. He stroked Louis' cheekbone. "I've to a conclusion come."

"Fancy language. Kinda hot."

Harry raised an eyebrow."

"Don't act surprised. Everything you do is attractive. It has nothing to do with what you do, it's the fact that you're the one doing it."

Harry blushed under Louis' gaze. "Whatever." He pressed their lips together.

Louis let out a small moan in appreciation, pulling Harry even closer, his fingers tangled in Harry's hair strands. Harry settled his hands on Louis' hips, parting his lips slightly. Louis' tongue moved against his own, and—

"Come on, guys! I leave you alone for one bloody moment!"

Harry pulled away, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. Niall was standing there, Amelia behind him. She looked like she was holding back a laugh.

"Hello," Louis said, waving. "Funny seeing you here."

Niall raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Haha. We came to see if you needed help with anything before the two new lovebirds show up?"

"The dishes, yeah," Harry said, stepping back. Louis pouted at him. "We have time later, Babe."

The corner of Louis' lips quirked up. "I'm holding you to that."

"Good."

"You guys are cute," Amelia said.

"No. Louis has ruined my innocent Harold," Niall said. "There's nothing cute about this, it's tragic."

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. Just then, the doorbell rang.

* * *

It was nine p.m. when they stepped foot inside Stan's apartment. It was as Harry remembered it—crowded, loud, and smelled of sweat and weed.