Author: twinkwinks

Summary:

One in which Louis is lonely every December until he walks past a diner where a young man, Harry, invites him inside.

/

December in England was one of the coldest, rainiest months of the year. Most stayed inside, cuddled up in blankets on the couch with their loved ones as they watched cheesy Christmas movies and sipped at hot tea. The snow falling outside would create the perfect setting for all of those couples. But, then there were the people that just couldn't keep a serious relationship so they were alone during this month. Those were the people that walked around England at ten at night as if they actually had somewhere to go. Louis was one of those people, unfortunately.

He would walk around at the same time every night in December, like it was his own tradition. It wasn't a tradition. It seemed that every December, Louis was single even if he had a nice relationship in the month before just like he did this year; he and his girlfriend had broken up two days before December 1st, which was just ridiculous. Every year, he was alone on December, and every year he'd walk around town every night at the same time in December with his hands in his coat pockets and his head down. If he had someone to go home to still, he'd be one of those couples cuddling on the couch and wishing time would stand still. Louis just wished the month would end.

One particular night in December, Louis pulled on his coat and started his walk; it was the same thing he did every night. He pushed his hands into his pockets, dropped his head a little, and watched his feet move one step at a time towards nowhere. There were a few Christmas lights around his block, and the colors bounced off the crystals of snow that covered the ground. Louis rounded the corner, dodging a person going in the opposite direction; the man on the phone was promising the person on the other line that he would be home soon and that, yes, he got the wine she wanted. He was one of those couples, Louis was sure. Mentally, he was mourning over all those lost months he spent loving his ungrateful girlfriend that just ended up telling him he was being too clingy and she needed some space; she left him and never came back.

It was when light suddenly landed on his damp shoes that Louis lifted his head completely. His breath puffed out in little white clouds right before his very eyes. He stopped walking and turned to find that a café was open, all the lights cut on and a roaring fire inside. The café had been closed down because of management issues for the past three years, Louis remembered. Apparently, those issues had been solved because there were almost ten people inside; some of those couples that should be at home were instead curled up on the same side of booths with mugs in their hands and some kind of dessert sitting on the table in front of them.

"Hello mate!" a voice made Louis snap his eyes to the front door. He was shocked to find a man standing behind the glass, waving at him. Louis studied him closely.

He took in the man's curly dark brown hair that was messily made up on his head in a weirdly perfect fashion. Sparkling green eyes stared back at him; he looked almost eager at the moment. Louis took in the man's extremely worn out boots, his dark blue sweater, and his skin-tight black jeans. Something stirred in Louis' stomach that he hadn't felt since that time he hooked up with another man at his senior prom. That's when he was first dumped by his first serious girlfriend because she got word of it from the man that Louis blew under the bleachers; it was his first time giving someone a blowjob and the man seemed extremely satisfied with Louis in the end, so Louis suspected he was quite good. Louis quickly snapped himself out of his daydream to reply.

"Yes?" he wearily asked.

"Well, come on in!" the man gestured to the inside of the café that was probably sweltering compared to the freezing night. Louis bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating on whether or not he should go inside.

Finally, he shook his head and took a step back, "Maybe next time."

The man didn't seem disappointed, he just watched Louis closely and asked, "Promise?" like it actually mattered, like he actually wanted Louis to come in for something other than more business. Louis wondered what this man could possibly want to do with him; the man was far too gorgeous to let down, though.

"We'll see," Louis turned around and walked back towards his flat, not looking back.

Louis didn't know what it was about the man that kept his mind occupied as he lay in bed, staring at his ceiling. It had to be only seven in the morning, but Louis hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. His mind was too fuzzy and too occupied to do anything but try and focus on that one subject: the man in the café. Eventually, though, Louis had to force himself to get out of bed and to get in the shower. With how much that man entered his mind, he was almost annoyed. Annoyed at himself or the man, he doesn't know. It was snowing again, just like every typical morning in England; it would be beautiful if Louis could concentrate on something different, but no. His mind would find things (such as the plaid shirt in the back of his closet as he was picking out his outfit) that would make Louis be reminded of the man he didn't even know the name of. He just wanted a name.

That day at work, Louis could only sit behind the counter and scribble possibilities on a piece of paper. He would brainstorm names such as Nathan or Jake or Henry, and any other name he could think would fit the boy even in the slightest. His brain would drift to think up possibilities on what would've happened if Louis had agreed to go inside; if he sat down and ordered a tea while watching the boy, watching him laugh and smile. Louis groaned aloud and started scribbling on the piece of paper he wrote the names on. He almost didn't realize there was a customer at his counter, looking to buy a Barbie toy; a present most likely for his daughter or niece. Everything got to the point that his best mate, Stan, got tired of it and asked Louis what the hell he was doing.

"Daydreaming," Louis sighed in a way that could be classified as dreamy.

Stan hopped up on the counter, "I could tell, mate. When are ya not? But I meant, what're you thinking about?"

"Just...Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Too bad I already am worrying," Stan sighed and hopped down. He clapped Louis on the shoulder, "Drinks tonight?" he invited even though he already knew Louis' answer. With every break up, Louis only had the need to drink more and more. He's an expert at holding his alcohol at the age of 24.

"I'll meet you there," Louis agreed and Stan left to restock the aisles.

Louis had always hated walking home from the bar, but he couldn't help the fact that he didn't have the money to get to and from the bar every night. So he stumbled home with Stan going in the opposite direction because he was in the same state with no cash for a ride home and he was completely wasted. After a good mile, Louis paused to stand against a building with his head tilted back. Each snowflake that fell stung his cheeks and made his nose redden more and more. Some got stuck in his eyelashes, but he didn't bother blinking them away because the cold helped numb him. That's what he wanted to be. He wanted to remain numb and invincible to the cold, to his raging thoughts.

"What're you doin, lad?" a voice broke Louis out of his numbed thoughts.

He opened his eyes and tilted his head back down to look at the person that had broken him from his thoughts. It was the man. Of course it was the man because Louis had somehow ended up at the café, and it was the wall of the café that he was leaning against. His cheeks were red, but it wasn't just because of the cold.

"What's your name?" Louis blurted, cocking his head a bit.

The man didn't seem to find the question alarming; he simply chuckled. "Harry. And you?" Louis opened his mouth to answer but he was suddenly rendered speechless as the alcohol finally affected him; he giggled as a rainbow suddenly surrounded the ma- Harry, making his girlish curves stand out. Louis reached out and patted the rainbow on Harry's cheek, still giggling. "Are you plastered?" Harry raised an eyebrow, not pulling away.

"Mayyyyyyyybe," Louis tried to step closer to really study the boys' face, but he only stumbled and almost fell over.

Harry quickly reached out and caught him, "Careful there. Wouldn't want that face of yours to get damaged," he said and slung one of Louis' arms over his shoulders to help Louis gain some of his balance. "Where do you live? I'll call you a cab," Harry offered, starting to walk Louis to the doors of the café.

"No cab," Louis demanded. "No money for cab," he yawned.

"I'll loan you some," Harry helped Louis into the café. He dragged him to a booth and made him sit down while he fetched the telly. When he got back to Louis, said older lad was giggling and looking at his reflection in the napkin holder.

As promised, Harry called Louis a cab and then he waited with Louis until it arrived. Louis was too wasted to do anything but listen to Harry ramble about anything and everything that came to mind. Louis didn't mind. Harry's voice was like an angel, soft and smooth and completely seductive even if he didn't mean it to be. Nothing, Louis decided, could be more beautiful than this boy and he still doesn't know my name. He wanted to tell him, Louis really did but that would mean cutting Harry off midsentence and that wouldn't be mannerly, so he shut his trap and kept listening.

By the time Harry stopped talking about lamb chops, the cab had arrived outside of the café. "Alright, then, let's go," Harry hefted Louis' arm back across his shoulders.

Louis stumbled with Harry outside; he reluctantly sat down in the cab while Harry pulled out his wallet and handed the driver a few pounds. "Where do you live?" the cab driver asked Louis patiently; Louis rattled off his address and the driver nodded.

Harry stopped the driver before he could take off. "What's your name?" Harry asked Louis; his hand was on the door, ready to close it.

Giggling, Louis replied, "Maybe next time."

"Promise?"

"We'll see." The door shut and Harry watched until the cab turned the corner.

Louis awoke disoriented and sleeping in the lobby of his flat building. He rubbed his eyes, and trudged up to his bedroom in his half-awake state. Quickly, he took some Tylenol before he got dressed and went to work. Stan chattered his ear off about football until Louis' shift ended and he walked home, hands shoved into his pockets. He scanned the area around him, watching people get home from work with bright smiles on their faces and people to actually go home to. He made himself some tea when he finally got home and he settled down on his couch, watching cheesy Christmas movies by himself while sipping at his tea until his clock hit 10, and he got ready to start his walk.

He didn't know what it was that made him take the turn that would put him out immediately on the street of the café. It was probably Harry, of course, but Louis wouldn't admit that. Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, he ducked his head and started to pass the café until he stopped; he stared into the café, debating on whether or not he should go in before he finally did. He pulled open the front door and stepped into the heat where multiple couples were cuddling and eating together. Those few single people were all gathered around the fire, chatting and laughing with mugs in their hands.

"You're here," Harry blurted as soon as he saw Louis' familiar messy but sexy hair.

Louis nodded slowly with a half-hearted smile, "Yeah. I'm here."

"Well come on, let me treat you to some tea," Harry grinned, grabbed Louis by his bicep and tugged him over to the counter. Harry held on a little too long, just feeling the hard muscle of Louis' bicep before he reluctantly let go. Louis slid onto a bar seat and Harry went around the bar to stand in front of Louis, leaning forward on the counter so they were impossibly close; Louis felt his cheeks reddening.

"What?" Louis fiddled with his fingers, dropping his gaze to the counter.

Harry quietly giggled, "What kind of tea would you like?" he asked.

Louis read over the menu board before he ordered his usual tea; Harry turned to make the cuppa and Louis took the time to study Harry. He was incredibly tall, much taller than Louis, and his legs were long, thin. Biting his lip, Louis ran his eyes down the backside of the boy and realized that the pose Harry was supporting just screamed "sex on legs" at Louis; he was seductive without knowing it. Louis was forced to snap himself out of his thoughts when Harry turned back around and placed a bright orange mug on the counter in front of Louis. His hair was held back by a bandana today, Louis noticed, but somehow he made the look seem kind of adorable. Louis felt like slapping himself. He shouldn't be calling this young man adorable, but it was just the way Harry was slowly wiggling his way into Louis' mind.

Said young man slightly cocked his head to the side, watching Louis, "Everything alright?" he asked genuinely.

"Yes," Louis blinked and looked back down, "e-everything's fi-ne," he stutters a little and blushes bright red again. To stop himself from talking, he picks up the mug of tea and quickly takes a few sips of it. And, what do you know? The cuppa is exactly the way Louis likes it. Harry just kept looking better and better by the second.

"Alright?" Harry inquired, nodding to the cuppa.

"Perfect," Louis nodded, grinning at Harry, who quickly returned it.

After a few seconds of Harry staring Louis down, Louis realized Harry might just be checking him out. Louis blushed a bit and he mentally scolded himself for being so shy; why couldn't he be the fun, loud type? Well, he was. But that was with Stan when they were alone in his apartment and playing Fifa like their lives depended on it; Louis wasn't comfortable in public places like this one. Harry didn't seem to mind; he stood, leaning against the counter while Louis flickered his eyes around, picked up his tea, took a sip, set down his tea, looked around, picked up the tea, took a sip, and set it down over and over again because he didn't know what else to do.

Eventually, Harry grinned amusedly and asked, "Can I get your name, love?"

Louis almost choked on his tea, "W-what?"

"Is that too forward?" Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning even farther over the counter so all Louis could do was hold eye-contact. Louis bit his lip and moved his eyes from Harry's just for them to land on the boys' lips; his perfectly pink, dick-ready, slightly puckered lips that just made his handsome face so much better. Louis bit down on his own bottom lip and he quickly moved his eyes back up to Harry's eyes.

"Wh-what?" Louis stutters again.

"I got you a cab and I bought you a tea," Harry pointed out, "Can I at least get your name?"

"I never asked you to do these things for me," Louis pointed out, relaxing when Harry pulled a couple of inches away. Even then, they were still extremely close and any passers would've thought they were about to kiss.

Harry's lips tilted downwards, "So I don't get a ki-name?" he quickly recovers.

Louis doesn't fail to notice the blush that lights up Harry's cheekbones. "Louis," he gives in because the poor boy now looked completely flustered by his slip. What he wanted to do was lean forward to close that last inch between them, to press his lips to Harry's like he wouldn't ever get another chance. His eyes suddenly glance at the clock above Harry's head and he silently curses as he finishes off his tea, gets up, and shrugs his winter jacket back on.

"Where are you going?" Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving.

"I have work in the morning," Louis sighs, "I have to go."

"Can I have a phone number?"

"Maybe next time," Louis grins.

Harry quickly smiles back because this was their thing now, "Promise?"

"We'll see," Louis doesn't think it over before he leans forward and pecks Harry's cheek. "Thanks for the tea," he says, turns, and leaves the café to start walking back to his cold, empty flat.

Louis tapped his fingers on his knee, staring at the clock and wondering if maybe he should stop doing this. He was anticipating his trip to the café; he wanted to go at the exact same time to be sure Harry was working that night because, honestly, he only wanted to walk now because he knew he would see the younger lad. Louis couldn't help it that Harry was gorgeous and sweet and so innocent. Louis had never been with someone that seemed so innocent compared to himself. Then again, Louis hadn't been with another man for years thanks to his slight obsession with his last ex-girlfriend; her father was a producer, and Louis was wondering if he only stayed with her to get close to her father. There was no other reason why Louis would stay with that witch; he's gay for Christ's sake.

Once the clock hit ten o'clock, Louis jumped to his feet and snatched his coat from the back of his desk chair. Quickly, he buttoned up the denim jacket before he stood in front of his hallway mirror and combed his fingers through his hair a few times. He winced at his own reflection. All this staying up to talk with Harry and going to work early in the morning was starting to affect how big the bags under his eyes grew. He knew he couldn't do much more to fix himself, so Louis just shoved his wallet into his back pocket along with his keys before he left and jogged downstairs. The desk lady waved at him tiredly and he waved back, his hands itching to throw open the doors so his feet can fast walk him straight to the café; he was tired of waiting.

However, Louis was disappointed when he entered the café and found that Harry was nowhere to be seen. He frowned a bit and took a seat at the counter, deciding he could wait a few minutes just to make sure Harry wasn't here. A waitress came over and happily took his order, which was just a tea; he took a sip of it when it was set in front of him, but it wasn't as nicely made as Harry's. Before he met Harry, the tea would've been perfectly acceptable, but now all he can think about is the boy as he handed him his tea and as his green orbs watched as Louis took the first sip and his eyes lit up happily. For a while, Louis stayed seated at the counter and picked at his sweater while drinking one tea after the other; the waitress eventually realized he was still there after two hours and she walked over.

"Is there something I can do for you, dear?" she questioned.

"Wh-what?" Louis stuttered, "Oh. Oh, no," he swallowed down the last of his fifth cup of tea.

The waitress took the mug and gave him an odd look, "You look like you're waiting for someone... Are you waiting for someone?" she refills the mug without Louis asking because she knew Louis wouldn't be leaving for a bit longer. Louis takes a taste of the tea, but it still wasn't as perfect as Harry's; this batch was just a little too bitter.

"I was, but..." Louis trailed off and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "It's kind of embarrassing."

"Fine with me," the waitress grinned. "I'm Danielle, by the way."

"Louis."

Suddenly, Danielle smiled, "Oh. So that's who you're waiting for," she chuckled.

"Excuse me?" Louis furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

She waved him off, "Dear, you can go home. Harry isn't working tonight. He took the night off to babysit his friends' daughter, Lux. But he said that if a Louis stopped by to give him a note." Louis waited patiently as Danielle went into the kitchen, yelled something to the cook, and then she returned with a folded piece of paper in hand. "Here you are, lad," she handed it over and Louis stuffed it deep in his jeans' pocket.

"Thank you," Louis nodded to her, standing up and pulling out his wallet. "How much?" he asked.

"Harry said to put your order on the house since he isn't here; like he's repaying you for your walk, so nothing. Have a good night, Louis." Danielle disappeared into the kitchen before Louis has time to protest.

Louis sat down on his couch the minute he got home and he twisted the note in his fingers. He unfolded it and quickly read it over. Dear Louis, sorry about forgetting to tell you I wouldn't be working tonight. Well, that is if you care. Hopefully, I'll repay you by buying whatever you ordered tonight (probably tea). Here's my number- (***) ***-****. Text me, yeah? Once he was finished reading, Louis tossed the note onto his coffee table and rushed to grab his cell phone from his jacket pocket; he quickly typed a message to the number on the paper.

L: Maybe next time.

Smiling to himself, he cut on his television and sat back as a Rudolph movie instantly came on. He sighed and flipped through the channels, eventually landing on a channel playing some crime movie. Louis jumped when his phone suddenly dinged and he practically launched himself at the edge of the couch where he set down his phone. H: Promise?

Another smile lit up his face and he replied with the usual: L: We'll see.

"You're not very fair," Harry said instantly when Louis entered the café the next night.

"Says the one that stood me up," Louis grinned teasingly.

"I was babysitting!" Harry gently shoved his shoulder, glaring at him playfully.

"And I was walking in the cold snow just to stop by for a cuppa and a chat with that young curly-haired lad that waits for my arrival." Louis slides into a booth this time and Harry sits down across from him since it seems that there are too many people working tonight even though almost the entire café is full.

"I," Harry pointed at Louis seriously, "do no such thing."

"Sure," Louis snorts.

"It's true! I don't wait..." Harry huffs. "You never texted me," he pouts.

Louis chuckles, "Are you sure you don't wait?"

"Well, I was sure I would at least get a good morning text from my new friend. Is that so much to ask?"

"Some of us do work during the day, you know," Louis pointed out smartly.

"Shuddup," Harry rolled his eyes, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair almost tiredly. "Would you look at this place?" he gestured around them, and Louis looked too. "We're almost entirely void of any space. All of these people have lives, you know. They come here to meet friends and to maybe find something worthwhile that could cheer them up a bit after a rough day. When my mum told me she was reopening a café to give to me for my birthday present, I thought she was pulling my leg. But then the boards were being taken down and I was suddenly in charge of all of this. I had to get a staff, and everyone that works here had come to the original café when they were quite young. They know what the customers like, and I have done everything I can to keep the café semi-like it used to be."

Louis watched him speak, but not just to ogle his perfect dick-sucking lips, but to also really get what Harry was saying. He never thought Harry would be so... mature. "How old are you, Harry?" Louis asked finally, wearily.

Harry bit his lip nervously, "...18," he said quietly.

Mentally, Louis was screaming at himself that Harry was too young for him, almost barely at the legal age. Louis himself is 22, and that's a good four years older than this young man that sits before him looking so innocently good looking that's it's unbelievable he has to run a café by himself. It was amazing what Harry was doing; he was bringing people together by running this place and by getting to know the people that do come in so he can continue to introduce them to other people, to new friends. Louis bit his bottom lip- his bad habit- and his eyes locked on Harry's godly lips. Harry wasn't talking but his lips were still slightly parted, just enough to make them look puckered and damp. Louis wondered what they would feel like pressed against his own; it was a thought too imaginative for Louis.

"Interesting," was all Louis said. Ten seconds of silence passed and Louis broke the silence, "I'd like to ask you out, Harold."

Harry looked up, shocked, "Really?" he sounded extremely excited but surprised.

"Yes, Harold, really," Louis chuckled. He reached across the table and took one of Harry's big hands, gripping it between both of his own. His hands were huge, and Louis had shamelessly wanked to the thought of Harry's hands between his legs. It was such a dirty thought, but Louis couldn't help himself. Harry was just so... delicious. "The question is, do you want to go out with me?"

Harry eagerly nodded his head, his face blown into a wide smile, "Of course!"

"You're a very eager lad, aren't you?" Louis winked.

A blush spread itself over Harry's cheekbones, "Maybe," he murmured.

"It's cute," Louis hummed, reluctantly letting go of Harry's hand.

Harry frowned, noticing the action, "Do you have to go?"

"Don't worry, dear Harold," Louis chuckled, "I have tomorrow off. What do you say we go out around 6?" Harry agreed and stood up to lead Louis out of the café; he stopped him when they got to the door and Louis was about to step out.

"No good night kiss?" Harry cocked his head, pouting.

Louis chuckled, "Maybe next time."

"Promise?"

"We'll see."

The next night, Louis was at the café on the dot and Harry was outside, grinning brightly when he saw Louis pull up in Stan's old SUV. Louis had informed Harry they'd be going to something that required a little dress up. So Harry had settled on a cheetah-print shirt, black blazer, black skinny jeans, and those God forsaken boots he was always wearing; Louis wasn't surprised at his attire in the least. He had simply shrugged into a blue sweater, black blazer, black jeans, and some black Vans that stood out drastically from the rest of his attire. Harry slid in the car and Louis immediately grabbed his hand, lifting it to his lips and grinning as he pressed a kiss to it in an almost silent greeting; Harry giggled a little.

"Nice to see you, too," Harry giggled some more.

Louis grinned, "You're too cute," he murmured, pulling away from the curb.

"So where are you taking me?" Harry tilted his head, watching buildings pass the car.

"It's a surprise, dear Harold," Louis teased lightly.

Harry huffed, "How did I know that was coming?"

"Because it's only the beginning of every first date ever," Louis stated like he was explaining how to use crayons to a four year old.

Again, Harry giggled and went back to staring out the window, but neither disentangled their fingers from each other. Louis passed every restaurant Harry could possibly think of before he was turning onto a dark street, looking completely in his element. Harry didn't worry. He trusted Louis. There was just something about the older man that made Harry's head spin, his heart race, and made him feel giddier than he knew was possible. Swallowing, Harry squeezed Louis' hand a little tighter and Louis squeezed back reassuringly; Louis turned one last corner and suddenly there were cars on both sides of the road, lining the sidewalk and close together.

Passing all of the cars, Louis pulled into a parking spot that had a sign saying "reserved" on the front of it. "Stay here," Louis instructed Harry before he let go of his hand, slid out of the SUV, and made his way around the car to open Harry's door for him.

Harry blushed, taking the hand Louis held out to him so he could clamber out of the car and onto the icy road. "Where are we?" Harry wondered aloud, looking around at the expensive cars that lined the sidewalks. Louis grinned, not saying a word but tugging Harry towards a building that had a single streetlight on in front of the building. The building was obviously old, the bricks faded and the front door cracked almost down the middle.

"Don't feel nervous, alright?" Louis instructed Harry, who slowly nodded.

"Alright..." he trailed off, now feeling a bit nervous about all of this.

Louis knocked on the door and a man in a suit opened it, looked down at him, and immediately stepped aside to let him inside. "Welcome, Mr. Tomlinson," the man said curtly; Louis nodded politely and tugged Harry inside.

Harry gulped and obediently walked with Louis down a short hallway that eventually opened up to a much larger room and Harry finally realized what they were doing. It was an art gallery. People in dresses and suits walked around carrying glasses of champagne, and laughing together like old friends that finally reunited. There were no paintings but instead pans of paint so people can make a picture of their own on the walls by putting their hand in the paint and then putting their handprint on the wall. By doing this, a painting was slowly being made out of handprints or any other prints from the body. Harry was absolutely fascinated, watching people add their hand prints to the painting beginning to form on the perfectly white wall.

"Boobear!" a woman screamed, pushing through the crowd to get to Louis and Harry. Harry watched as the woman dragged Louis into a tight hug; the smell of perfume and expensive champagne surrounded the woman. Louis hugged the woman back easily.

"Mum," Louis pulled back a little, "this is my date, Harry."

The woman pulled away from Louis altogether and she scanned over Harry, slightly giggling at his cheetah print shirt. "Well aren't you quite handsome? Nice one, Boobear; never thought you'd find a good one." Louis groaned.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tomlinson," Harry acknowledged politely, smiling a little.

"Please, call me Jay!" she exclaimed. "I better go mingle then. Have fun boys!" she turned and sauntered back through the people.

Louis rolled his eyes, but Harry spoke first, "She seems... nice."

"That's the understatement of the century, Harold." He shakes his head and then grabs Harry's hand again, "Come on then. I had something special set up for us upstairs," he pulled Harry through the crowd and to a thin door.

"Is your mum the host?" Harry asked.

Louis nodded, "She does one of these things every December. I decided I wanted a date to take to this one," he grinned at Harry, who grinned back happily. Opening the door with a key he magically pulled from his pocket, Louis let Harry go in first and he locked the door behind them.

They went up a long staircase and then Harry was gasping and his mouth falls open as he sees exactly what Louis had set up. Blankets and pillows were set up in a corner of the room, and a basket of food was sitting beside it. Candles were the only things lighting up the room and they were in almost every nook and cranny against the walls and on small tables, but the floor was the best thing yet. It was obviously one way glass so the two could look down on the entire party, but no one could look up and see them. Louis seemed satisfied with himself, watching Harry's reaction to his choice for their very first date. They ate first, making conversation easily so there weren't any awkward silences. It was all so perfect and Harry hoped there was more of this to come.

Hours later, Louis ended up sitting on Harry's lap, playing with his curls. He giggled every time he tugged a curl just for it to bounce back to its. Harry amusedly watched him for a bit, and then he said in the serene quiet of the room, "Thank you."

Louis paused for a split second, but then he quickly continued, "For what?"

"For all of this. I've had a great time tonight."

"Me too, Harold."

"Stop calling me that," Harry chuckles.

"What's your last name?"

"Styles. Why?"

"Hmmmm," Louis hummed. "You don't have much style, though," he teased. Harry hit him lightly on the chest.

"Shuddup," he murmured, blushing a bit.

"You're cute."

"You're very kind."

"Kiss me you bloody fool."

Nothing else needed to be said because Harry grabbed Louis gently by his cheeks and he held Louis still as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Louis'. Louis got impatient quick and he sped up the kiss, turning in Harry's lap to straddle him. Quickly running his tongue over Harry's plump bottom lip, he grinned when Harry let his tongue in to taste him. Louis felt Harry's hands slowly move down his back, before they landed on his ass and squeezed a little; Louis giggled into his mouth. He tangled his fingers into Harry's hair, tugging on the locks to make Harry gasp a little. Louis grinned. So Harry had a hair fetish, how refreshing. Harry laid back on the blankets, fingers teasing the waistline of Louis' jeans.

Louis pulled back long enough to mutter, "You're a fucking tease, aren't you?"

Harry grinned, "So I've been told."

Louis dragged his lips down Harry's jawline, leaving a fire trail of kisses in his wake. He attached his lips to Harry's neck, sucking and nipping at the area; Harry moaned and gripped Louis' hips. He shut his eyes and suddenly bucked up his hips, causing friction between their dicks; Louis moaned lowly breathlessly.

"Good God," Louis pushed up his body, hovering over Harry carefully.

Harry frowned, "What are you doing? I thought we were gonna..." he trailed off, suddenly blushing and embarrassed at himself.

"I want to," Louis quickly reassured him, grabbing his hands and gently running his thumb over his knuckles. "But this isn't the place or the time. Maybe next time."

"Promise?"

"We'll see."

It didn't happen next time, but it did three weeks later on the night Louis asked Harry to be his official boyfriend. Harry continued his work at the café and Louis got a job at a radio station closer to the café so he could take his lunch break and spend it at the café where Harry would grin whenever Louis entered. The two were inseparable, and Louis was falling so hard for this young man that he didn't notice when December finally ended. He spent his Christmas night sleeping in Harry's arms, not worrying about getting cold because Harry was extremely warm and big enough to be a huge teddy bear. Louis didn't really like being a small spoon but he did it because he liked Harry's arms holding him like his life depended on it.

"Boooooobear," Harry cooed, poking Louis in his cheek to wake him up.

Louis muttered a few curses, turning away, "Leave me alone."

"But you told me to wake up you back up at ten o'clock," Harry pointed out. "You said you wanted to finally spend a December where you're the one cuddling on the couch instead of walking around at night."

It was a year after they met, finally, and it was Louis' goal to cuddle with Harry on their couch with their shades open so he can gloat. He can look out at the sidewalk and smile because he's no longer walking those sidewalks alone during yet another lonely December; it was all thanks to Harry. Louis forced himself to roll over, seeing Harry laying on his side of the bed with his arm propping up his head. Grinning a little, Louis stretched and sat up; it took a few minutes but he finally got up and Harry followed him. He grabbed a thick comforter, took Harry's hand with his free one, and dragged the curly-haired boy out of their room and into the living room where Louis dropped down on the couch and Harry quickly followed, wrapping the blanket around them and turning on a Christmas movie.

Louis sighed contentedly, curling up in Harry's lap with his arms around his boyfriend's neck and his head resting on his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered, playing with Harry's curls like he did on their first date.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered, kissing the crown of Louis' head lovingly. "Would you marry me?" he asks seriously.

Louis grinned, "Maybe next time."

"Promise?"

"Definitely."

And in that moment, Louis knew his future Decembers were looking a lot better.