An enormous black Mercedes pulled up outside Callie's flat at quarter to six on the dot the following morning. It was pitch black outside, freezing cold and drizzling. I pulled my hood up and tucked my chin into my collar as I scurried from the shelter of the front door to the waiting car, and was thankful for the heated leather seats as I slid into the back. Before I could reach out to pull the door shut, Paul pressed a button from the front and it closed slowly, all by itself.

"Wow," I remarked. "Impressive."

"It's new," Paul smiled at me in the rearview mirror. "Modest have just upgraded the fleet. Extra-toughened glass, top of the range interior, practically silent to drive."

He pressed a button and the light dimmed inside the car from a warm glow to a cool tone.

"Feel free to put the TV on," he offered, and I noticed the television screens set into the backs of the headrests.

"Wow again," I breathed. I'd never really taken much notice of cars before, but this one was magnificent. It put my broken-down Peugeot to shame.

"Good isn't it," Paul enthused. "One of these will set you back a good hundred and fifty grand."

He talked me through the different controls as we made our way to Hampstead Heath to pick up Harry, and I leaned forward in my seat with interest.

The gates opened to allow the car into the drive and I saw Harry closing his front door and locking it as Paul jumped out to grab the bags. Once they were loaded into the boot Harry opened the back door and slid in beside me.

"Morning baby," he murmured, leaning over to give me a kiss.

"Mmmhhh," I mumbled.

"How's your head?" he grinned.

"As you'd expect after too much wine," I grumbled.

He chuckled softly as he fastened his seat belt and made himself comfortable as we headed towards Heathrow. We arrived shortly after half past six and I managed to keep my face hidden underneath my hood as we hurried past a few lonely-looking paparazzi and into the terminal. We checked in at a private desk and were immediately taken through airport security to our own lounge, where Liam was already waiting with his bodyguard Paddy. He stood up to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and I inwardly screamed and tried to play it cool. As he released me my bag fell off my shoulder and I flapped around trying to pick it up, standing on Liam's foot in the process.

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" I squeaked, colour flooding my face as I stood up quickly and almost cracked heads with him as he bent down to rub his toe.

"Woah," he said, dodging out of the way and then laughing at my horrified expression. "Good job there's nothing of you," he teased.

I laughed back nervously, suddenly tongue-tied, and glanced around for Harry, hoping he would come to my rescue.

"Thought you were over the fangirl thing?" Harry smirked from behind me.

"Aww, don't make fun of her," Liam chided Harry, smiling affectionately down at me, and sending an excited wobble through my entire body that turned my bones to jelly. I could only blame last night's alcohol for my abandonment of chill; in the drama of Callie and James' breakup I hadn't prepared myself for hanging out with One Direction.

"She's hungover," Harry explained, grinning delightedly at me.

"You needn't look so happy about it," I huffed.

"Who's hungover?" asked a South Yorkshire accent from the doorway, and my stomach somersaulted as I turned and saw Louis walking into the room. "Ouch, never mind," he grinned when he saw me, and I pulled a face at him and turned away as he walked towards me. "Morning Jessie!" he shouted in my ear, and I winced as the volume caused my head to pound, and I buried my face in Harry's chest.

Harry rubbed his hand gently up and down my back as Louis let out a mischievous cackle, and then softly kissed the top of my head.

"You can sleep on the flight if you want," he murmured. "There are private cabins on the jet, with beds and everything."

"Mmhh," I mumbled again, and he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me close. I melted onto him, breathing in the aroma of his aftershave and shower gel, a beautifully fresh and clean combination.

"So, Payno, where did you end up last night?" I heard Louis ask, and felt Harry turn his head towards them. I looked up to see Liam smiling sheepishly.

"My own bed," he replied, pointedly.

"With a certain someone?" Louis pressed.

"We're not all manwhores like you, Tommo," Liam retorted, but he was grinning as he said it, and I got the feeling there was some sort of inside joke going on.

"Liam got into Cheryl last night," Harry whispered in my ear.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide, and he grinned at me and put a finger to his lips. I nodded silently, feeling a grin spread across my face. He could surely only mean Cheryl Cole, or Fernandez-Versini, or whatever she was calling herself these days, as the band were at the X Factor studio the previous night. Last time I had taken notice she was married to some French restaurant owner, but who knew how far behind the public were in the lives of celebrities? The world so far didn't officially know Harry and I had been an item on and off since March, other than intermittent speculation.

Once Niall had arrived we were called to board the flight, and I was starting to feel hungry - I needed a hearty breakfast to soak up the alcohol. We were escorted onto the tarmac to a small private plane, and Harry led me up the steps and through the cabin door. The inside of the jet was impressive. Sumptuous seats faced forwards and backwards, in twos, and each forward facing seat had its own twenty inch tv screen, phone and USB port. Harry pulled me into a seat at the front, facing forward, with our backs to everyone.

"Don't you want to be sociable?" I asked, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and shoved his bag in the overhead locker.

"Do you want to spend the entire eight hours staring at Louis' face - actually, don't answer that," he sighed. "We can sit with him if you want."

"Maybe we can sit with him later on in the flight?" I suggested. "Is there enough room for us to move seats?"

"Yeah, there's only the four of us, you, security and a couple of crew," Harry replied, and he watched me with amusement as I investigated the touch screen television and plugged my phone in to charge.

The crew came round to check the cabin and once everything was in order the plane began to move across the tarmac in the direction of the runway. I took a selfie of me and Harry as it lifted into the air, and he pulled his mouth into a cheesy grin, showing all his teeth.

"You are so undeniably cute," I remarked, and he frowned.

"No I'm not. That's not manly."

"You're still cute," I argued, and he sighed.

"Will I ever be manly?"

"I think you're manly as well," I told him, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "I do!" I insisted. "When you pin me down and kiss me - that's manly. And you have a lovely deep voice. It's very sexy."

"OK, now you're making me blush," he smiled, looking away shyly.

"You're so cute when you go all shy," I beamed, and he sighed again.

"And we're back to cute again."

"I can't help it," I grinned, resting my head on his shoulder. "You're just such a... such a..." I waved my hands in front of me trying to find the right words.

"If you say cupcake we will have to see other people," he threatened, and I squealed with laughter.

"Oh God!" I squeaked. "How do you know about that?!"

"I know most of these weird names the fans give me," he said darkly. "And while we're on the subject - what is the deal with the frog son thing?"

He looked so serious I felt mean laughing so hard at this, but I honestly couldn't help myself. To hear him acknowledge these references was too much.

He smiled at my hysterical laughter, and Louis peeped over the back of our seat. "What's so funny? It can't be his knock knock jokes."

"Hey Lou - who's smol?" Harry grinned.

"Fucķ off," Louis replied, and his face disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"He hates that," Harry said gleefully to me. "Especially as I'm tol."

I stared at him. "You know that's a Larry reference, don't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "What isn't?"

"Does the whole Larry thing bother you?" I asked tentatively, fully aware we had never crossed into this territory before.

He shrugged. "Yes and no. I'm not bothered about what people say about me to an extent, but for them to insist we're in a relationship when we've repeatedly told them we're not... it starts to get on your nerves after a while. It pisses Louis off more than me. But it has caused a strain on my past relationships because the fans send hate to anyone they see as a 'beard.' I've learnt that people will believe what they want to believe, so what's the point in denying it anymore? But it is draining having every word, every look, every action scrutinised by those looking for 'proof'." He drew quotation marks in the air.

"I can imagine," I said softly.

A member of the cabin crew handed out breakfast menus and I opted for a full cooked breakfast and a mug of tea.

"Hangover cure," I explained as Harry gave me a knowing look.

It was brought over on a tray, with a glass of fresh orange juice on the side and two slices of toast. While Harry delicately ate a croissant and a fruit salad, I devoured my fry up unashamedly.

"Where do you put it all?" Louis asked in disbelief, his face appearing over the back of Harry's seat again.

"In my rapidly expanding belly," I moaned, leaning back in my seat and sighing.

"Pfft, hardly," Louis scoffed, eyeing my stomach, and then quickly looked away when Harry gave him a stern look. "Just saying," he said defensively, holding his hands up, and then ducked back down behind the seat again.

The stewardess cleared our plates and I sighed and closed my eyes, feeling full and content.

"Is that better?" Harry murmured, reaching over and rubbing my leg gently.

"Yeah, much," I replied, without opening my eyes. "I needed that."

"Are you sleepy?" he asked.

"A bit," I shrugged, opening my eyes. "I want to stay awake and hang out with you, though. I feel like I haven't seen you properly for a few days."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about yesterday," he said quietly, looking away. "I shouldn't have been pissy with you in the car. Or snapped at Callie the way I did."

"It's fine," I replied, brushing the back of his hand with my fingertips, and he turned his hand over so I could gently stroke his palm.

"It's not," he sighed. "I was just annoyed that you weren't going to be there. I wanted the opportunity to sing Perfect to you again. I know that's really stupid."

"Yup," came Louis' voice from the seat behind. I peered over the back of the seat again just high enough to see his eyes dart to mine, and his eyebrows raise mischievously. I could tell by the way the skin around his eyes was crinkled that he was grinning. I couldn't help grinning back before I looked back at Harry.

"Are you going to gang up on me with him this entire week?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Yup," Louis supplied again, and Harry threw a balled up serviette over the back of his seat without even looking. Louis cackled.

"No," I said to Harry, leaning towards him and kissing him softly. "I love you. I can't wait for this time together."

"I love you too," he murmured, kissing me back. His fingertips moved from my leg up to my hip, and he lifted the hem of my jumper and stroked my bare skin as his lips pressed gently against mine. I shifted closer to him to continue the kiss, leaning further across the seat. His left hand stroked my face gently and he flattened his right palm against my hipbone, spreading warmth from the point our skin touched all the way across my abdomen.

"I really am sorry for being a pain," he whispered.

I said nothing, but kissed him a little harder and slipped my tongue into his mouth. He sighed, and his hand left my hip and skated slowly up my side to the bottom of my bra and came to a stop. My heart began to pound as we kissed again, and then his thumb gently swiped over the cup of my bra against my nipple and I couldn't help a tiny murmur of approval escaping my lips.

His lips smiled against mine and he pulled back an inch. "Do you want to go to one of the cabins?"

"Harry," I whispered. "Everyone will know!"

"No they won't," he whispered back. "Not if we're discreet. I'll go first, pretend I'm going to the toilet or something. Wait a minute, then follow me."

"Harry," I began again, but he leaned forward and kissed me again, cutting me off, and gently squeezed my breast. I was putty in his hands, as usual. His fingertips curled around the top of my bra and he carefully pulled the cup down an inch and slipped his finger inside, stroking my nipple and causing me to bite down on his bottom lip. He reached forward with his free hand, and pulled my hand onto his lap where I could feel him straining against the fabric of his jeans. I squeezed him gently and he grunted under his breath and pulled away from the kiss again.

"Follow the aisle all the way to the back of the plane," he whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt. "You'll see me - I'll look out for you."

And he was out of his seat before I could protest. I turned around and watched him walk gracefully down the aisle, and then my gaze fell on Louis who was watching him too, his mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. I quickly faced forward again before Louis caught my eye, and counted slowly to one hundred before unfastening my own seatbelt and standing up.

"Jess!" Louis called in a harsh stage whisper as I stepped into the aisle, and I looked over at him. He inclined his head, indicating for me to lean towards him.

"What?" I whispered, taking a step towards him, but he inclined his head again inviting me closer. I leaned down to him so I was looking into his eyes.

"You," he whispered slowly, "are about as subtle as a brick."

I blinked and stared at him, unsure how to respond.

He said nothing more but gave me his trademark twisted smirk again, and sat back in his seat. I realised in horror that he obviously knew exactly what we were up to.

My face on fire, I stood up straight and hurried to the back of the plane, avoiding everyone else's gaze for fear of being called out again. As I neared the end of the corridor I saw Harry peering out of a small door, and when I reached it he opened it fully and pulled me inside. He shut it behind us, locked it, and pulled me against him, his lips crashing onto mine.

The window blinds were all pulled down apart from one, so the little room was dimly lit from the weak morning light. There was a double bed pushed up against the interior wall and he led me over to it, gently easing my jumper up as we went. I tossed it onto the floor and reached for the button on his jeans as he pulled his own jumper over his head and dropped it next to mine. Once we were down to our underwear we fell onto the bed and I pushed him onto his back and sat up, my legs either side of his, and he reached up behind my back and unclipped my bra. He cupped my breasts in his hands, and I wiggled my hips slowly from side to side against him, causing his eyes to close and a soft moan to escape from his mouth. I leaned forward to kiss him again, craving the softness of his lips on mine as his hands delicately caressed my skin.

"I love you," he whispered as our lips touched again.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

I felt him shift under me as he lifted up his hips to pull his boxers down, and then his hands moved to my hips, tugging gently at the waistband of my knickers. I manoeuvred them off and he pulled my face down to his again as he guided himself slowly inside me with his hand. I sighed at the feel of him and closed my eyes as his hands returned to my breasts again, softly stroking me as I began to move up and down.

He lifted his hips up to meet mine, slowly at first but then with increasing speed and vigour. The plane's engines were loud enough that we didn't have worry about being completely silent, and Harry groaned as I sat up straight and leaned back, giving him more friction, and his hands moved to my bum where he gripped me tightly, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pressed tightly together as though trying to control himself.

He slipped his thumb between my legs and rubbed me gently, and it sent me over the edge. I whimpered softly as the waves of pleasure began, and he began driving himself hard into me, reducing my legs to jelly. I leaned back and gripped his thighs behind me and his whole body shuddered as he let out another groan and I realised he was coming too. I kept up the pace until he relaxed underneath me, and then I flopped forward on top of him, my heart hammering and my breathing laboured.

I rested my cheek on his shoulder and he stroked my hair softly and kissed the top of my head. We lay in silence for a couple of minutes until I could feel my eyes getting heavy and I knew we needed to move before the others cottoned on to where we had gone. I sat up again and he grinned up at me.

"Have you ever done that before?" I asked. "On a plane, I mean."

His smile slid off his face and he answered uncomfortably, "Um, yeah..."

"It's OK," I added quickly. "I don't think I want to know, to be honest."

"Jess," he began, but I shook my head.

"Honestly," I insisted, smiling at him so he knew I wasn't annoyed. "Some things are better left unsaid."

He accepted this, and as I slid off him he sat up and opened a small fridge next to the bed, which I realised was a mini bar that housed a couple of bottles of wine, some individual measures of various spirits and a variety of mixers.

"Champagne?" he offered, holding up a bottle of Dom Perignon.

"It's not even ten o'clock in the morning!" I exclaimed, pulling my clothes back on. "Besides, then everyone really will know where we've been if we appear with that."

"True," he acknowledged. "But what's the point of having a mini bar on a private jet if you can't make the most of it?"

"Well, can't we ask the stewardess to bring us some with our lunch or something?" I suggested. "Then we can all have some."

"OK," he conceded, and he stood up to pull his boxers back on, his legs wobbling slightly.

"You alright?" I teased him, as he snapped the waistband of his pants and flashed his eyebrows at me cheekily.

"You make my bones melt like butter," he said shyly, and he looked so cute as he averted his eyes and picked up his jeans that I couldn't resist putting my arms around him and kissing him softly.

"You do the same to me," I admitted, and he beamed at me and kissed me back. "Now hurry up. We need to slip back to our seats separately to avoid suspicion."

I opened the door a crack once Harry was fully dressed, and peeped out. Everyone seemed either immersed in conversation or distracted by whatever was playing on the screens in front of them, so I walked casually back up the aisle to our seats at the front of the plane, deliberately not looking at Louis as I sat down.

I picked up my phone and pretended to check it, and then a voice said from behind me, "Smooth."

I rolled my eyes and turned around to look at Louis who was smirking knowingly.

"I was right," he said, in a satisfied tone. "The just-fucķed look really does suit you."