head over heels

12. beautiful

i once again wanna thank my two best friends, basically for existing bc i kinda experienced what they're doing in this chapter with them a few days ago. i love you guys.

"Morning, love" Louis mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he pads into the kitchen the next morning, barefoot and only in sweats.

Harry looks up from where he was... making pancakes?

His eyes immediately find Louis' naked chest and he looks away a couple seconds too late, clearing his throat and turning around to open the fridge.

Louis grins as he slides onto one of the barstools, snatching a strawberry from the pile Harry has been cutting.

"Why're you makin' breakfast, sunshine?"

A smile small makes it's way onto Harry's lips, Louis totally clowns himself that it's caused by the endearment.

"Because" Harry starts, placing his hands on the surface of the kitchen island and looking at Louis. "I felt like it."

"That's cute" Louis smiles at him, and Harry smiles back. "Slept well?"

"God no" Harry groans, bending forward to rest his head on the countertop. "Niall is a kicker"

"Tell me about it" Louis nods. "Zayn is a kicker too"

"I hate kickers" Harry says.

Louis folds his hands. "Amen"

Harry copies his action. "Awomen"

Louis laughs, leaning back on the stool, before getting up and walking around Harry to open the fridge as well. He grabs orange juice and two glasses, filling them. Harry is with his back towards Louis when he walks up behind him and places the glass next to Harry.

He reaches around him, grabbing another strawberry, his front almost touching Harry's back, their arms grazing. Harry has stilled the process of stirring the dough and Louis knows he's holding his breath.

"Pancakes look great, babe" Louis murmurs, he doesn't mean to say it so lowly, so quietly, so whisper-y, but, well. Shit happens.

He hears Harry swallow audibly, before the boy clears his throat. "Thanks"

Just then, Louis decides this is too much and he takes a step back, walking back around to his previous position. He chuckles when Harry's shoulder slump immediately and he lets out a quiet breath. They look at each other, somewhat there's a silent agreement that they both just felt that.

Louis smiles, widely and honestly. He could get used to this. Chatting with Harry while the boy makes breakfast and creating sexual tension that could be cut with a knife.

Above all, it's an unusual sunny December morning, the house is calm and quiet and- wait. That's not possible.

"Where are the others?"

Please, Louis has lived with Ashton, Zayn and Liam for years, quiet doesn't happen. And he knows for a fact that quiet is not Niall's best area either.

Harry lets out a chuckle, flipping a pancake. "I wondered when you'd ask that. They're in the garden, playing footie"

Louis nods. "Kids."

"Indeed. You, for example, are so much more mature" Harry says, voice laced with playful sarcasm.

"I really am" Louis argues, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Wanna bet?"

Harry looks up, his eyebrows raising. And okay. He's got a point.

"Will you play football with us after breakfast?" Louis changes the topic, attempting his best puppy dog eyes. "Even Liam is playing"