"God, why did I pack these?" Nick groans as he holds up one of the last clean items of clothing he has left, which just so happens to be a full set of blue pyjamas that he doesn't remember ever owning, much less deciding to take with him.

"I don't know, but I love that you did," Harry remarks in a slow rumble, his sleep-heavy eyes crinkling at the corners as he peers at Nick from the edge of the bed.

"Don't lie to me Styles, there is no way these can be attractive, even in your twisted up head."

"Heyy, you would look well fit in those, but you could sleep naked too, either one works for me."

"Filthy child," Nick chuckles under his breath. "In order to protect myself from your wiles, I will have to wear these. Don't want mum walking in and catching a glimpse of my bits by accident, naked just doesn't work in a house full of family members."

"Fine," Harry pouts, "but hurry up, will you? I'm cold and I want snuggles."

"You wouldn't be chilly if you'd brought a stunning pair of pj's like I did," Nick retorts playfully, "but alright yes I'm coming. Just let me rinse off first."

"You going to steal my shampoo again?" Harry calls after Nick even though he's already closed the door of the bathroom behind him.

"Sort of have to," Nick yells back, "ran out of mine yesterday."

"'Course you did," he hears Harry mutter in reply.

Nick knows he has a bit of a problem with packing, it's just so difficult for him. He tries to make a list and get everything he needs ready a few days in advance, but his mind constantly distracts him with other tasks, and before he knows it, he's tossing things into his suitcase at the last minute and hoping for the best.

He reminds himself to ask Harry to help him pack for the Biggest Weekend when they get home. The younger man is much better at it than he is, even if he might end up with some questionable fashion choices. At least he'll have clean clothes, and nothing can be worse than this pyjama disaster he's currently dealing with.

Nick washes up quickly, inhaling the fruity scent that Harry's shampoo has shrouded him in. It's different than it was the last time Nick saw him, before it was vanilla, now it's raspberry. He isn't sure why he feels that he needs to remember this, it's not important, but somehow it is. He wants to know everything about Harry, even his current favored shampoo scent, so he stores the fact away in his already overwhelmed mind.

Once Nick is mostly dry, he puts on his ridiculous set of pyjamas. He still can't believe he brought these, Emily must have tossed them in as a joke, or perhaps he was a bit tipsy while packing. Whatever the case was, Nick is finding this entire situation hilarious. He decides to share his fashion faux pas with the world, taking a video featuring his best version of a grandpa's voice.

He can hear Harry laughing hysterically in the other room, but luckily, his phone's speakers don't pick up the sound. He posts the video quickly, running a hand through his damp hair like that will help improve his look before he reenters the bedroom where Harry is waiting for him with a wide grin on his face.

"Stop smiling popstar, I know I look ridiculous, you don't need to rub it in."

"You look handsome," Harry replies instantly, but Nick can hear his suppressed giggles even though he's doing his best to hide them.

"That's generous, but I'll take it. At least I'm cozy," Nick sighs as he gets under the blankets, hiding his atrocious sleepwear the best that he can with the duvet.

"And silky," Harry exclaims happily as he pets the fabric covering Nick's arm. "Can I steal these for tour? I love soft pyjamas."

"Please do," Nick agrees instantly. "As a trade, can I borrow a shirt tomorrow? I've got nothing clean left."

"You're terrible," Harry sighs, "but yes, of course you can. I brought a few extra just in case."

"What would I do without you?" Nick sighs happily, pulling Harry in for a quick kiss as he speaks.

"Be lonely and underdressed probably," Harry chuckles softly, his head resting in the crook of Nick's shoulder that seems to be made just for him.

"True," Nick nods, only for Harry to nudge him gently.

"Shush, I'm trying to watch the end of this," Harry silences him, pointing toward the telly which has just switched from adverts and is now playing a Spanish soap opera.

"Do you even know what's going on?" Nick asks quietly, earning himself another jab to the ribs from Harry's bony elbow.

"Yes, well - sort of," Harry admits. "I think that one - Carlos - is in love with the older man's wife. I haven't caught his name yet, but Carlos is telling him that she deserves better than him and he will make sure she's cared for, or something like that."

"Ooh, so much drama, keep me filled in will you?"

"'Course," Harry answers with a yawn, which Nick knows is a sign that he'll be asleep within the next ten minutes, but he lets him watch his show until his eyes are drooping continuously and he can't stifle his yawns for any longer.

Nick gently rearranges Harry so he's more comfortable, letting him rest his head on his chest so he can still see the tv if he wants. As he had guessed, Harry drifts off quickly, the sound of the soap opera continuing in the background as Nick tries to follow his lead, but his mind isn't on board with the idea of shutting down. He's suddenly become aware that this holiday is almost over, that soon he'll have to return to real life, to face the decisions he's been putting off for far too long.

He'll be fine, he always is, but a part of him wishes he could stay here in Ibiza with Harry forever. That's an unrealistic dream, and he wouldn't actually take that option if it was presented to him, but a few more days to hide away from reality would most definitely be appreciated.