Louis had said as soon as his publicist mentioned the Brits. He could be
nominated for everything on the ballot and he’ll still never go anywhere near
the Brits again.
She’d tried to
convince him, talked about the bad optics of Liam up there alone while “we
could be the greatest team the world has ever seen” echoed in the background.
Louis wasn’t convinced. Louis is pretty confident that the last place Liam
wants to see him is the Brits.
So he’s here, on
the couch, with Doris and Ernest. He’s let them stay up late not for their own
sake but for his, something for him to turn to if he needs to look away from
the screen. They’d spent the whole show rearranging the cushions, jumping back
and forth between the couch and the ottoman, and dragging their favorite blankets
around on the floor.
When it happens, Louis
isn’t quite prepared for the way his stomach clenches. “That’s your Uncle
Liam,” he tells the twins, realizing that he’s leaning closer to the
Doris stands on
the end of the couch and face-plants into the seat cushion. “Who’s Uncle Liam?”
“Well, you haven’t
seen him since you were younger.” Louis doesn’t know how he should answer the
question. He doesn’t know how he let it become a question that had to be asked.
himself across Louis’s back. It helps.
Liam has curls
like Louis hasn’t seen since 2011. He’s all bundled up in a pullover and a
leather jacket, with studded details that make him look armored. Nothing as
easy to grab as the lapel of a suit. Nothing as fragile as a row of buttons
down the front of an expensive shirt.
The buttons had
come off easier than Louis had expected, after the Brits last year. He could
have undone them properly, but it felt better to fight something, to cause all
the chaos he could with his mouth violently pressed to Liam’s. He could hear the
pop of the threads and the click of each button on the hardwood floor of the
front hall. Liam just tightened his grip on Louis’s hips and pulled him closer.
He’d spent close
on six years trying to push Liam out of his comfort zone, prodding and
demanding and pushing into his space. But it turned out there’s no such thing
as outside Liam’s comfort zone, not when it comes to Louis. That night, the
discovery felt like an unexpected drop, like misjudging the number of steps in
Louis doesn’t know
what to do without a boundary to push. Doesn’t know how to be around Liam now
that he’s not something to crash into or climb or subvert.
When Liam’s done
speaking, Louis tosses Doris over his shoulder and scoops Ernest up by the
waist. He waves off Fizzy’s offer to help and hauls them to their bedroom,
singing “Bedtime for you, bedtime for you.” A couple of books read, a couple of
songs sung, two pairs of spindly arms in striped pajamas wrapped tight around his
neck as he says goodnight. It’s a better choice than he made last year, he
Louis closes the
bedroom door behind him and pauses halfway down the hall to tweet something,
the ingrained habit of gratitude demanding attention now that the twins
are settled. Once he starts the recording on his phone, the thanks come out of
his mouth soft and automatic. So does the apology. Sorry again, although he’s
only said it once. Sorry I can’t be there.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Direction Rating: Mature Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Payne/Harry Styles Characters: Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Gemma Styles, The whole family basically Additional Tags: Kissing, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, dirty mouth Harry, Cuties, Christmas, Christmas Fluff Summary:
Liam and Harry are having Christmas with the family. (can’t write summaries just read it and enjoy.)
I told louis I was going to go see Liam, he was still kind of asleep so he probably got half of what I said. I changed out of my pajamas and into normal clothes. I got my keys and Liams gift and left the house. I drove to Liams and was surprised to see no paps anywhere. I let myself into Liams house and kick off my boots, “liiiiiammmm,” I yell wondering where he was at.