The sounds of his designer boots hitting the driveway of Louis’ humble abode were the only thing on Harry’s mind at the moment. He had been thoroughly drained of all the anxiety and restlessness on the-what felt like longer than usual-flight from Toronto back to LA and was currently in more of a relaxed state of mind, serene even. He had been on this property way more times than what could’ve been considered normal by this point-a whole five years making it easy to make any place your home-and that was further reflected as the younger singer let himself into the home with no warning, removing his shoes before letting out an “Oi!” Louis’ flirting had been completely left field for him, but the Brit was never one to decline the opportunity for an orgasm or at least a good snog, so he did far from decline. And his best friend’s confidence only riled him up, his own self curious to see how the power struggle would end up. Who’d come out on top. “Are you here? Have you been murdered?” He teased lightly as he then wandered into the living room once his boots had been removed. It had been a while since he had seen Louis, let alone hang out with him, so Harry was relived to know they’d be around each other for a weekend. “I brought my wife!” The tequila bottle was held firmly between his long fingers, getting drunk a must since it was a Friday night.