C H A P T E R    T W E N T Y F I V E

Hiccups and Hamilton

❄●❄

                  TO HARRY'S GROWING discomfort, he and Louis find themselves alone in the living room while everyone else scattered to finish getting ready for their dinner reservations. Well, everyone but Lottie and Tommy, who probably scattered just to grab a moment alone quickly.

                  Louis was sitting himself down on the sofa, and Harry rubbed the back of his neck before following suit. He didn't like having Louis upset with him, especially when he wasn't in the wrong. But Louis couldn't – wouldn't – see that, so Harry was going to have to apologize anyway. He'd be glad to do it, if only to wipe that look off Lou's face. He just... He wasn't going to change his plans. Whether Louis was aware or not.

                  "Louis," Harry tried, leaving a little space between them. "Look, I'm really sor – "

                  "Let's not," Louis blurted, turning to him. "I don't want to talk about it anymore this weekend."

                  "But we can't just... Like, you're clearly upset. I'm upset that you're upset. That's not a thing we can ignore."

                  "I'm not saying we should ignore it, I'm saying we should just...put it off until we get back to London. This is meant to be a fun weekend, and I don't see us coming to an agreement on the issue any time soon," Louis sighed, scooting closer to Harry and dropping a hand onto one of his thighs. "So let's forget about it for now, enjoy ourselves, and we'll discuss it later."

                  This would be fine and everything – great, if Harry was being honest – except for a small detail. As relieving as putting the discussion off until later sounded, it won't matter if Louis couldn't even look at him.

                  Harry felt himself frowning, but he nodded until he realized Louis couldn't see. So he cleared his throat and said instead, "Okay."

                  Louis patted his thigh once. "Okay."

                  "Ernest!" one of the girls shouted from a different room, and Harry looked in that general direction, distracted momentarily.

                  A tiny human with a mess of strawberry blond hair came bobbing into the room, a small brown tube clutched in his fist. Not far behind him was the only sister Harry hasn't met yet, though he's certain he must have heard her name at least once. Damn his horrible memory.

                  "You little menace," she was saying, catching her brother and retrieving whatever it was he'd stolen. Some type of makeup.

                  This one looked a lot like their mother, Harry noticed. He thought the same about the older twins and even Lottie once, but it was definitely this one who shared most of Jay's looks.

                  "Perhaps you should try keeping your door shut?" Louis suggested.

                  "Perhaps you should make yourself useful now that you're home and control him. He's a miniature you after all," she retorted.

                  Harry almost winced, a little shocked by her tone, but then Louis was standing with a grin on his face and yanked her into a one-armed hug. She looked like she wanted to duck out of it for just a second, but then she rolled her eyes and a small half-smile slipped onto her face and she looked rather fond.

                  "You wouldn't even know," Louis said. "You weren't alive when I was that age."

                  "Don't have to be to know."

                  Harry figured he might as well chime in to get their introductions rolling if Louis wasn't going to do it. "I'd have to agree, actually."

                  "Wrong side, there, Harold. You're supposed to be on mine, not hers," Louis teased, his eyes finally lifting and meeting Harry's.

                  And then it seemed okay. Harry stood and stepped towards them, aiming to shake the girl's hand, but he wouldn't break Louis' gaze. He wanted to make sure they would be alright this weekend. If Louis was going to be unable to look at him while they put off that discussion, then they just couldn't put it off. But it seemed like they might be okay. Louis was watching him and smiling warmly, his eyes all crinkled and his lips tight together, and so Harry finally looked over at the sister.

                  "Harold," he said to her, holding out a hand. "Or Harry, since we're on the same side."

                  She smiled one of Lottie's smiles in response. "Felicite. Or Fizzy, since, well. You said it."

                  "Hey, hey. I don't know that I like this," Louis butted in, stepping between the two with his brows raised. He turned to Harry. "You're stealing all my siblings from me. That's three now, and the older twins look like they'll be following suit any second."

                  "Three?" Harry asked. "I mean Fizzy and I are on the Fizzy defense squad, and Ernie may prefer me over you after shitting in my lap, but who's the third?"

                  In response, two arms wrapped around Harry from behind, and he felt a face press against one of his shoulder blades. "Me." Lottie.

                  Louis held out a hand. "See?"

                  But then she let Harry go and smiled sweetly at her older brother, stepping around Harry to reach for him. "I kid," she said, sneaking a quick peck on his cheek before he could pull away. "I'll always be on your side, Lou."

                  Fizzy made a noise in the back of her throat that sort of resembled a gag, and then she was heading back in the direction from which she came, Ernie toddling after her. Daisy and Phoebe nearly ran into him on their way into the living room, both in different outfits and having straightened their hair.

                  "See?" Harry said to Louis, bumping their hands together to get his attention. "Only two. And I don't even think I've really stolen them."

                 "Come on, guys," Phoebe said, slipping past them towards the front door, Daisy and Lottie in tow. "Mum said they'd meet us in the car."

                  "It's okay," Louis said to Harry, shrugging a shoulder. "I'll share them."

❄●❄

                  "SO HOW'S THE job been, bub?" Jay was asking Lottie, who was sat between her and Tommy. On Jay's other side, Doris played with the corn on her plate from a booster seat between both of her parents, and on Dan's other side Ernie had fallen asleep.

                  Harry cut off another piece of his grilled chicken and popped it into his mouth. Louis' knee bumped his beneath the table like it has every few minutes since they got here, and he bumped it back, content.

                  They'd gone to a popular supper club a few miles outside of Doncaster, and for the life of him Harry couldn't remember what it was called, but it was cozy and smelled amazing, and as soon as he stepped inside he felt warm and happy. He thought maybe he was just being weird, but when he turned to see the faces of Louis' family and Louis himself, he found that everyone reacted the same way upon entering, and he realized it must just be part of the place's charm.

                  And it was charming. That was a good word for it. It reminded him a little bit of that restaurant he went to with Louis and Lottie way back when he hardly knew either of them, that hole-in-the-wall place with fairy lights lining the ceiling and dark wood everywhere. Perhaps that was why Louis loved that place so much. Perhaps it reminded him of this place.

                  On Louis' other side, Daisy, Phoebe, and Fizzy were talking amongst themselves, but Fizzy quieted to hear Lottie's answer.

                  "I love it," Lottie mumbled around a mouthful of twice-baked potatoes. She brought a hand to her lips while she finished chewing, and then she continued. "They're teaching me so much. I only work behind the counter once a week now – the rest of the time I'm assisting Rachel or Lydia. Just two of the main stylists."

                  "Can you dye my hair for free, then?" Daisy called from her end of the table.

                  Lottie rolled her eyes teasingly. "Of course not. I can't even dye my own hair for free. Discounts are good, though."

                  "And Tommy?" Jay asked then, leaning forward to see the dark-haired lad. "How's job life for you?"

                  Tommy set his empty fork down as if he couldn't speak with it in his hand. "I'm between, currently. I used to work at an independent bookstore that my cousin owned, actually."

                  "Really?" Dan asked, also leaning forward. "That's very cool. What happened with that?"

                  "He got married and sold the place so that they could move back to Italy. The new owners let me keep my job, but they started changing a lot of things and were kind of a bunch of dickheads – "

                  "Tommy," Lottie frowned, nudging him with her elbow.

                  "Sorry," he amended. "But yeah, so I left and now I'm waiting for an interview with a couple different people."

                  "Tell them about the one you really want," Lottie prompted him.

                  While Tommy began describing this group of photographers he's admired for some time who have an opening on their team, Harry looked over at Louis, who was listening to Tommy attentively. Harry knew that Jay was going to ask about his job next and worried Louis would be embarrassed of him.

                  Is working at a hotel restaurant embarrassing? Is there a way Harry could swing it so that it sounds more impressive? Maybe he could mention something about – well, not the Hit-Maker House specifically, but perhaps the human equivalent. Is there a human equivalent? Shit.

                  Louis finally felt the weight of Harry's stare and looked over at him, offering up a small smile until he realized Harry was bothered. But more than anything, Harry was embarrassed. He needed a new job maybe. He never thought that he did until now, but he's been in London for months and he hasn't really gotten anywhere career-wise. How was he supposed to fit in with humans if he planned to stay at the hotel forever?

                  Harry felt his cheeks warm with humiliation, and he looked away from the blue-eyed, concerned boy beside him to think about what he was going to say when Jay inevitably turned her attention on him.

                  "That sounds so interesting," Jay was telling Tommy, looking genuinely interested and great, how was Harry going to top or even come close to this? "Good luck. You'll have to keep us posted."

                  Tommy dipped his head. "Of course."

                  A silence settled, but Harry knew it would be short-lived. He stuffed more chicken into his mouth, hoping it would buy him at least a few more seconds. He felt Jay watching him while she ate some more of her own food, felt Louis still staring at him like he was willing Harry to calm down, felt Lottie peeking up at him every so often as well. She knew him enough by now to probably sense his growing edginess too. Shit. Calm down, Harry, god.

                  "So, how are you liking London, Harry?" Jay asked, and okay, it wasn't dangerous territory yet. Harry could handle this question. "Louis mentioned that you moved there recently?"

                  "In September, yes," Harry managed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I love it a lot. Kind of thanks to Louis, though. All the friends I have, I have because of him."

                  "That's not true at all," Louis countered. "You've got friends at the hotel. Olivia, Ella..." he began naming off.

                  Harry's eyes widened before he could stop them, and he coughed to try and cover up the look on his face. He couldn't seem to stop his panic from being visible in his expression. Why did Louis have to bring up the hotel? Shit. Now what? Now what should he say?

                  "Right, well. Other than them, my only friends are yours," Harry said quickly, praying – probably for the first time since they met – that Louis would stop talking. "Um, but yeah, London is great. Beautiful city."

                  But Jay went exactly where Harry hoped she wouldn't.

                  "Do you work at a hotel, then?"

                  He breathed a quiet sigh, glancing down at his plate with shame that colored his cheeks a faint pink. "Yeah, I guess, technically."

                  "He's actually a poet, as I've told you," Louis chimed in again. Harry glanced over at him, but he was looking at his mum. "His stuff is incredible, but don't ask to read it, because it's top secret until he finishes up the rest of the collection. When it's published, though, don't worry; I'll get you a signed copy. I know a guy."

                  Harry's lips lifted a little at the corners, and he wasn't positive, but he thought that maybe there was a little halo of light above Louis' head suddenly.

                  "Oh, do you?" Jay asked her son, grinning. Then she turned back to Harry. "Well, if you ever want a second opinion despite the secrecy, I'd love to offer my services. I don't know if Lou's told you, but I was big into poetry eons ago when I was your age."

                  "Please," Louis scoffed. "You were big into nursery rhymes just to get me to fall asleep at our age."

                  That comment was cause for alarm, and if Harry wasn't so distracted by how much he fucking adored this human beside him, he'd probably be blanching at how rude it was. But he forgot that Jay and Louis were quite close, and she didn't take offense. She rolled her eyes and waved a hand.

                  "Well, a few years before that, then," she said. "I really was. I have a whole box in one of the closets filled with anthologies and collections."

                  "Sure, sure," Louis breathes with an air of finality, and then he was changing the subject. "So, Daniel, have you tried the new NBA game yet?"

                  "You know I haven't."

                  "Of course I do. Now let me tell you how sick it is."

                  Harry spent most of the rest of the dinner forgetting about his food and watching Louis talk. He knew there was more to the conversations, knew the little lad was keeping his family from steering the topic back to Harry. By the time everyone else was finished eating, he had only cleaned off about half his plate, but he was more than ready to leave – if only to get Louis alone as soon as possible.

                  Unfortunately, that didn't exactly happen. Their reservation was at seven, which meant that they didn't get back to Louis' house until nine. It was past the baby twins' bedtime, and everyone else was ready to call it a night, which meant that they definitely wouldn't be alone until tomorrow.

                  Lottie and Tommy bid everyone a goodnight as quickly as was appropriate, and that left Harry, Louis, Fizzy, Daisy, and Phoebe to set up their makeshift beds on the living room floor. This had been Harry's idea earlier, that they all camp out together in the one room. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now...

                  Now he wanted nothing more than to have Louis to himself for a while.

                  When Jay and Dan took Doris and Ernie to bed, everyone else was already lying down. Conversation amongst most of Louis' siblings and themselves didn't last long and wasn't very deep, and in less than an hour Fizzy was quietly snoring on the other side of the room, the twins were whispering quietly to each other, and beside Harry, Louis' eyes were closed.

                  He watched his eyelashes flicker every so often against his cheekbones, watched his lips twitch occasionally. But he was awake. His breathing hadn't slowed or evened out, and his shoulders were slightly hunched like he still hasn't shaken off the stress from their argument this morning. Harry watched him like this for a long while before he decided to speak.

                  So as not to allow the twins to hear him, he whispered, "Thank you."

                  Louis didn't open his eyes. "Don't know what you're on about."

                  "Yes you do. So, thank you for it."

                  It was a long while before Louis responded. So long, in fact, that Harry thought he had fallen asleep and decided to let his own eyes close. But he opened them when he heard Louis' whisper. "You gave me time to spill my own secrets. I owe you time to spill yours."

                  Harry blinked at him, swallowing the truth that was lodged in his throat.

                  Louis continued, "I hope you'll come to trust me enough to tell me about them someday."

                   Still, Harry couldn't speak. He didn't know what to say. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, hoping he'd find some answers there.

                  When had Louis become so perceptive? How did he know that Harry was keeping something from him – the same way Louis was still keeping something from Harry?

                  He turned this over and over in his mind before he finally decided on a response, and honestly, if Louis was already asleep and didn't hear it, he wouldn't be upset.

                 With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and rolled over again, facing away completely. "I'll tell you my secret when you tell me yours."

❄●❄

                  THE MORNING BROUGHT with it three things: a two-year-old straddling his torso, a lot of nearby chatter, and – apparently – Doncaster's first snowfall of the year.

                  Harry is pretty positive the second thing existed because of the third thing, but as for the first thing...

                  Peeking his eyes open, Harry's tired, hazy gaze was met with that of a wide-eyed Ernie whose face was mere inches from his own.

                  "Hello," Harry mumbled, thick with sleep.

                  Ernie greeted him with a squeal and a grin, his toddler voice shrill to Harry's freshly alert ears.

                  He winced a bit, but before he could say anything more, Ernie's weight disappeared from his chest and Louis was suddenly towering above him.

                  "Come on, Ernest, you're missing everything," Louis was saying, disappearing with his brother and leaving Harry to finish waking up.

                  It felt colder in the Tomlinson-Deakin household for some reason, and Harry would have attributed it to the cooler outside temperatures had he not already known that they turned the heat on a couple weeks ago. He propped himself up with his elbows, squinting at the brightly lit room. And, oh. He's cold because his blanket had been stolen by Lottie at some point, who now met his gaze and smiled sheepishly at him.

                  "You didn't look like you were really using it," she said to him.

                  At the sound of her addressing Harry, Louis peeked over his shoulder at him and set Ernie down. He reached instead for the nearest blanket while Harry pushed himself into a seated position, rubbing at his eyes and fighting off a shiver. He should have slept in a sweatshirt.

                  Without a word, Louis approached him with the blanket and dropped to his knees in front of him. "Always so pleasant in the morning, aren't you?"

                  Harry offered as close to a smile as he could muster. "Only when I wake to your beautiful face. Otherwise I'm a real tosser."

                  A small, tight-lipped smile on his face, Louis spread out the blanket and – to Harry's surprise – leaped forward to tackle Harry to the floor with it. They fell backwards, and Harry was grateful for the pillow that cushioned his skull.

                  While the sound of their intertwined laughter mingled with the scuffling sounds of Harry struggling to free himself from Louis' capture, the girls and Ernie continued to stare in awe and longing at the fresh, glittering snowfall. Once Harry had Louis trapped in his arms and they were both sitting, it was impossible to miss out on the magic happening right out the window. It's been snowing in London for a few days now, but most of the magic lies in humans' reactions to it anyway, so Harry was feeling it all over again.

                  When it first snowed in London, he was only able to share the excitement with Lottie. Louis was making a point to not be impressed – whether he was or not, Harry wasn't about to press him about it. This time, though, there was a warm smile on the small lad's face as he watched his siblings fawn over the weather. Harry tightened his arms around Louis' torso in response, resting his cheek against the top of his head.

                  Louis might not like the snow purely because of his associating it with Christmas, but he certainly liked what it did to his family. And that's not a lot, but it's something.

                  So when Louis detangled himself, Harry let him.

                  "Get dressed, everybody," he instructed, stealing Doris away from Fizzy and reaching for Ernie's hand. "We're going out."

                  "Out where?" Lottie asked, Tommy asleep on her shoulder like he hadn't been ready to wake up just yet.

                  "That playground out where Mum used to take you guys."

                  "Where did Mum used to take you?" Jay suddenly asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway. Her hair was thrown up into a topknot and she was already dressed. Harry wondered how long she's been awake.

                  "You know what I'm talking about?" Louis asked her, shuffling the twins toward her. "That old playground with the double metal slides I always wound up burning myself on with the girls?"

                  "Oh, that one," Fizzy nodded. "They've redone it. No metal slides anymore."

                  "Probably for the better," Louis mumbled. "Anyway, everyone get dressed. We leave in ten."

                  "Lou, that's not nearly enough time to get ready," Lottie sighed, nudging Tommy until he woke so that she could stand.

                  "You get fifteen max, Charlotte. Better get on with it."

❄●❄

                  MINUTES LATER, EVERYONE was piling into Jay's van. Legally, there definitely wasn't enough room. But once they threw the law out the window, everyone eventually fit, and they were on their way.

                  Jay promised she'd bring a second vehicle to drop off lunch in a few hours, and that seemed to be good enough for Phoebe, who was the only one protesting the situation. And considering none of them had eaten breakfast, Harry figured they'd all welcome a good lunch soon.

                  Louis had hardly driven a minute down the road with the radio's volume on low when Fizzy and Daisy demanded to control the music.

                  "You two always play some shit, don't you?" Louis was saying with a sigh. "Nothing too horrible, if you love me even a little."

                  Fizzy reached for the cord connected to the radio and shoved the other end into her phone. Harry wondered if he'd recognize whatever they put on, but when it began to play, he definitely didn't. It seemed Louis did, though.

                  "Alright," was his only response, and to Harry's surprise, almost everyone in the vehicle began singing along. Or...talking along.

                  "How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman – dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence impoverished and squalor – grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"

                  Louis was nodding his head along to the beat, but otherwise he was the only one besides Harry over the age of two who wasn't singing along. Harry listened a little longer to see if the lyrics would tell him anything more about what he might be listening to.

                  "The ten-dollar founding father without a father got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter, by being a self-starter. By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter."

                  What was a founding father? Harry had heard the term before and thought back to his studies, but he was drawing a blank. It wasn't a UK thing, so what other country was it from? Australia? The US?

                  Giving up, he leaned over so that Louis could hear him and asked, "What are we listening to?"

                  But instead of receiving an answer right away, Louis just looked at him and raised his brows. He reached for the volume dial, turned it up a little more, and mouthed "listen."

                  Harry did. He learned that the subject of the song – the founding father in question – was an Alexander Hamilton, a name that Harry still didn't recognize. He must not have paid much attention when he was taught about this. Perhaps it isn't even real? He wasn't sure why he assumed it was about a real person, but whoever it was, everyone in this van seemed to enjoy the music written about him.

                  When the next track started, the girls continued singing, but Louis joined in this time. The beginning seemed to be a conversation between this Alexander Hamilton and another man called Aaron Burr (another name Harry didn't recognize), and the girls sang Aaron Burr's parts while Louis sang – or spoke – the other side.

                  Other characters chimed in, and Fizzy introduced herself along with the first guy. Phoebe and Daisy did the next two, and eventually the song escalated and ran directly into the next track, which was...which was all Louis.

                  "I am not throwing away my shot," he sang. Actually, properly sang this time. "I am not throwing away my shot. Hey yo I'm just like my country, I'm young, scrappy, and hungry and I'm not throwing away my shot."

                  Surprised, Harry could only look on with wide eyes, not expecting this in the slightest. How did they all know every word to every song on this album while he had never even heard of the characters?

                  "I'ma get a scholarship to Kings College." Louis continued, and suddenly he was rapping.

                  Harry felt the corners of his lips turn upwards while they parted. What the fuck?

                  "I probably shouldn't brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish. The problem is I got a lot of brains but no polish. I gotta holler just to be heard. With every word, I drop knowledge. I'm a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal, tryin' to reach my goal, my power of speech, unimpeachable."

                  It was like seeing an entirely new side of Louis, one Harry never knew and never would have guessed existed. His mind was in scrambles, trying to put together this moment so that he could form a thought he'd be able to hang on to. He never wanted to forget this, never wanted to stop seeing Louis spew words from memory quicker than Harry can even make sense of them. A look of determination on his face, his brow puckered while one hand gestured in the air every so often...he was in character. He had become this Alexander Hamilton person, just for this one moment, and it was fascinating.

                  After the track ended and Louis hadn't messed up a single word, the others continued singing like they hadn't just witnessed the eighth wonder of the world. And maybe they've seen it so many times that it isn't impressive anymore. How long has this music been out? How long has Harry been missing out on Louis' performance of it?

                  Louis stopped singing along as if he knew nothing else would top what he'd already accomplished. After a while, he turned to meet Harry's gaze.

                  "I'll show you the bootleg when we get back to London," he said.

                  "What?"

                  "It's a musical. Hamilton."

                  "I've never heard of it."

                  Louis chuckled. "I can see that. It's good – you'll like it."

                  "Who's Alexander Hamilton?"

                  "An American guy. Don't worry, you'll learn in due time."

                  Harry continued to listen to the others sing along to every single song, knowing every word by heart. Even though he didn't sing along, Harry knew that Louis also knew the words. There's no way he would have stopped after learning that other song; no, Louis would have listened to every song on repeat until he knew them all.

                  Harry decided he'd do the same thing someday so that they could sing them together.

❄●❄

                  ONE OF HARRY'S favorite things in the world is Louis' laugh. His genuine, hearty laugh. He could listen to it all day – screw sleep, screw his job. There was that initial gasp, and then the quick way he raised his hand to press his knuckles against his lips to no avail. Because then there was the way his blue eyes glittered in whatever light caught them as they became smaller, more squinty, crinkling at the corners. And then – perhaps Harry's favorite part – the lilting giggle that ensued, stifled only by his knuckles for just a moment before he dropped his hand in defeat.

                  Yeah. Harry loved that. And he particularly loved it when he caused it, like now, squeezing his legs into the opening of the second tallest slide, Ernie sat on his lap and squealing, bouncing gleefully as if they'd already begun their descend.

                  "Hold still for a moment, Ernie," Harry tried, but it didn't matter. The boy wouldn't stop moving. He was ready. More ready than Harry was, clearly. "I'm just...give me a second."

                  "Alright?" Lottie asked from behind him, hands on Doris' shoulders.

                  "Yeah," Harry huffed, attempting to adjust himself in a way that he thought would ensure an easy glide down the slide rather than the two of them getting stuck halfway thanks to his hips and thighs. "Just never let me volunteer to do something like this again."

                  Lottie's lips pursed to avoid giggling. "Noted."

                  Finally, Harry was ready. He leaned forward so that the tot on his lap would be able to hear him through his knit cap. "Ready?"

                  Ernie screamed in response, far too enthusiastic for Harry's sensitive eardrums.

                  "Okay, arms up! Like this."

                  To demonstrate, Harry put his own arms up until the boy did the same, and then they slid. They didn't move very fast – likely thanks to Harry – but he returned his hands to Ernie's little torso regardless, just in case. Once they hit the bottom, Louis was already there.

                  He helped Ernie off of Harry's lap so that Harry could yank himself out of the plastic tube. He brushed off his backside, figuring nothing would be there, but who knows? It's a public park. He met Louis' gaze and raised a brow. "Your turn."

                  Louis shrugged a shoulder and waved a hand before stuffing it back into his jacket pocket. "One and done, I think. Wouldn't want them having too much fun."

                  "Right, right. I forgot. You're the worst."

                  "Exactly."

                  In less than half an hour, Jay and Dan arrived with some pizzas and everyone took a moment to warm up. This weather was still mild for Harry, but he could see the pink on Louis and his sisters' (and Ernie's) cheeks from what was probably a bit of a biting breeze. No one had broken out their heavy winter coats, but their shoulders were hunched, tucking away the exposed skin by their necks all the same. Harry wished he could share his tolerability with them all.

                  After lunch, Harry managed to rope Louis into pushing the babies in the swings while the others – Jay and Dan included – picked up a game of capture the flag. He adored Louis' family, but he wasn't used to sharing his favorite human with so many people at all hours of the day. This was as close to alone time as he guessed he'd get until they returned to London.

                  "And then she started crying, so it wasn't really funny anymore. Hasn't watched a horror film with me since," Louis was saying, pushing Doris gently by her little boots every time she came back to him. "We also haven't gone camping since then, but that's not because of me. I'm sure it's a relief for her all the same," he chuckled.

                  "Lottie was right – you were a menace. I think, if we'd known each other as kids, you'd have tormented me."

                  "Oh, no doubt about that, Harold. You seem like the exact type of kid I would have targeted. Mostly because of your curls."

                  "What kind of torment would it have been, I wonder? The bullying kind, or the obscenely fond kind – the kind where you can't help yourself because I'm just so darn cute and charming?"

                  Louis tossed Harry a sideways glance, rolling his eyes. "God. Don't make me say it. I truly don't want to give you the satisfaction after that."

                  "You don't have to say it. I already knew." Harry felt the shit-eating grin on his face, knew Ernie was staring at him because of it.

                  "Then why did you – hup!" With wide eyes, Louis glanced first at Harry and then at his siblings as if he was unsure whether he'd heard the sound that came out of his own mouth correctly. "Oh no. Hup!"

                  Harry's own eyes widened when he realized what was happening. "Hiccups?"

                  "Fuck. Fuck me. I hate when I – hup! Dammit."

                  Enjoying this immensely, Harry shook his head and clucked his tongue a few times. "Language, Lou."

                  "I don't fucking – hup! Ugh! Buzz off, honestly. Fuck this. Hup!"

                  To Harry's surprise, beating him to it, Doris began giggling. Her eyes were trained on her older brother, a little confused as to why he was making such a sound, but amused by it nonetheless. When Louis hiccupped again, her giggle followed suit.

                   "Oh, you think it's funny, don't you? Hup! Don't you?" Louis asked her, his annoyance immediately dissolving as if she'd flipped a switch. "Hup!"

                  Her giggling ensued, and soon Ernie couldn't help himself any longer and began giggling as well.

                  Louis shook his head. "You really can't choose your family, can you? Hup!"

                  And Harry, for all it's worth, was beside himself with fondness. For the second time in the span of, like, two hours, he wanted nothing more than to get Louis alone. He didn't know what he'd do with him, what he'd say to him. He just knew he wanted the two of them in a room, isolated from the rest of the world, stat.

                  Instead – since he couldn't have that – he leaned over and left a quick kiss on Louis' cold cheek, right at the top of his cheekbone. Louis turned toward him as he pulled away, like he wanted just a little more, and Harry had to remind himself repeatedly and loudly in his mind that they had a young audience so that he wouldn't do anything stupid.

                  Their audience was attentive, it appeared. When Harry returned his attention to them, still pushing Ernie by his little feet, he saw the boy trying to reach his sister, lips puckered. Louis noticed this at the same time, and together they pushed the twins' swings together until Ernie could reach.

                  "Hup!"

                  The universe was rooting for Harry today, because again, Louis erupted into laughter. Harry couldn't help but respond the same way.

❄●❄

                  LOUIS WASN'T THE only one who had to go out and buy hot chocolate once Harry started coming around. And seeing the opportunity for what it was, Harry volunteered the two of them for the errand.

                  Jay and Dan switched vehicles with them, taking everyone else home in the van while they took the car into town for the nearest market. The snow was still falling, the air cold enough that it wasn't melting on impact anymore, and the soft dusting across the fields and yards they passed on the way was a certain kind of magic that Harry loved. It wasn't the same kind of magic as seeing snow-blanketed hills and cities, but it was just as nice. It reminded him of Louis.

                  They'd been driving for a few minutes when the man in question slowed to turn onto a gravel road. This led to the town?

                  They went about a mile down this road before Harry couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Where're we going?"

                  Louis didn't answer. Harry examined his expression as closely as he could without being weird or obvious about it, but there wasn't anything there to be cause for alarm. Louis looked...peaceful. Content. Happy, even. Urgent? There was a little of that there, but combined with all of those other things, nothing would be wrong, right?

                  Eventually, Louis pulled over and parked the car in what looked to be the middle of absolutely nowhere. The road was lined with trees, leafless and brown and... Where were they?

                  "Have you brought me out here to murder me? Because I have to say, I did not see this coming," Harry mumbled, alternating between gazing out his window at the snow falling into the trees and Louis, who was unbuckling himself and shutting the car off. "Lou?"

                  They got out and Louis took his hand, threading their fingers together – his were freezing. Harry imagined his own were a normal temperature, maybe even warm, and he wondered vaguely if Louis liked the feel of them more than usual.

                  Suddenly, Harry realized there was a little path across the road that Louis was eyeing. And that's where he led Harry, one step ahead of him always until they were far enough down the path that the car was barely visible.

                  Finally, a small clearing opened up, and there were homemade park benches along the edges, their backs to the trees encircling them. It was like a little park in itself – not the playground type, but the type where people bring their dogs or read books. Louis was pulling him towards a particularly large tree, and Harry only had time to be confused for a second before Louis yanked him forward, spun him around, and pushed his back into the tree.

                  By that point, Harry got the memo.

                  Louis was already on his tip-toes, gripping the front of Harry's jacket; Harry surprised him by grabbing the collar of his jacket and using it as leverage to pull him closer. The kiss was a mess of open mouths and a little desperation, and Harry realized Louis was shivering a little (from the cold or from Harry, he wasn't sure), but it was more than what he could have asked for.

                  This went on until Louis ran out of oxygen, so when he pulled away to breathe, Harry moved on to his jaw, his neck, not ready to be finished. Louis' skin was soft and cold, so cold, and it reminded Harry of being home.

                  With a breathless laugh, Louis said, "I couldn't very well do this in front of my family, could I?" He reached up and cupped Harry's face with both hands, pulling him back up for another kiss.

                  This one was less messy, less heated. It was short, slow, their movements drawn out, smiles pressed together. Harry pulled back and brushed Louis' fringe out of his eyes.

                  "This is the best weekend I've ever had."

                  Louis' only response was to press his forehead against the hollow of Harry's throat, and Harry would give anything to know what he might be thinking.

                  "Come on," Harry said instead of asking. "I promised Fizzy peppermint hot chocolate was on its way. Let's not disappoint."