They talked about it later, years after their lives had taken off into space in opposite directions, the moment they knew.

Well, the moment he knew.

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, looking up from the hollow she'd found between his arm and chest when the December air found the crevices in the windows and chilled their skin. She'd get goose flesh and he'd run his hands up and down her limbs to warm her, then pull the flannel up and over them, no matter how warm he was from doing all the work near their end. "We kissed? When we were TEENAGERS?"

"Well, I was technically a teenager the first time we slept together too."

"We didn't sleep."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows at her and smirked, "Oh, I know."

"Oh my god, I really don't remember this!" She turned all the Christmas parties she'd attended at his mum's house over in her head. Emma figured she'd been at the annual event every year since she was 15 or 16, the age he says he was when they kissed. She has almost three years on him. Maybe she was 14 at the first one. That one she recalls well, She's pretty she still had braces. Nobody kissed her. If her math is good, it's her last Christmas before moving. "No wonder you were so ballsy last year!" She slapped at his chest and he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips.

"Nah, that was more to do with last year. I was just flush and nobody had turned me down in so long I didn't think anybody ever would again."

"I did!" She at least pretended she wasn't captivated.

"You did. At first!" He reminded her and bit her fingertips before sucking them into his mouth. "Made myself irresistible evidently." He wiggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes thinking back at his dogged flirting. He'd found multiple reasons to be near her and had found her close enough to the mistletoe and was charming enough that she accepted the kiss he negotiated out of her as inevitable. Negotiated, that was laughable, he laid one on her and it overwhelmed her reason. Emma thought she played it cool enough, though she remembers they held hands for the the 10 minutes after, at least.

She accepted the other things he was offering on the strength of that kiss, and the fact that since he'd slipped his tongue into her mouth so seamlessly, convincingly, all she could think about for the hours intervening was what else his mouth could do.

While she replayed the memory of that first kiss, the one that counted for her, another blurry memory flashed in her mind.

"Oh! Was it underneath the mistletoe, too?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and her beneath him in the same breath. "You were under the mistletoe the second time!"

"I was mistletoe adjacent, at best." She sighed, she meant to jest, but his long lean body pressed along the length of her clouded her mind and convinced her she wasn't tired anymore or too tipsy off champagne.

"The first time, was me under the mistletoe."

"I kissed you?"

"You did." He confirmed with another kiss.

"How'd I kiss you? Like full on?" She was a little mortified she'd kissed little Harry.

Gemma would have killed her. Would still! That was why she and Harry always just flirted at the party and met up at the inn when the wine had everybody off their head. Nobody knew, it was their Christmas surprise. The secret she looked forward to all year.

"Well, you weren't brave enough to slip me the tongue." He stuck his tongue into the corner of his mouth; that was too attractive by half.

"Hmph." Was all Emma could come up to answer with. "Did I say anything?" She smoothed her hands up his back.

His face got dreamy, and he seemed to be reliving something. "Yeah, you told me 'you're getting cute little Styles.' I always hated that nickname, but I felt a little taller that night."

Harry was descriptive, which was funny considering he could be so quiet at times, but he was quick and he knew a lot of words, more than her. He was working on his third language. He would basically narrate while they fucked and it drove her crazy when he'd describe how she looked and felt and what it was doing to him.

"What do you want to ask?" He pressed his nose to the place her collarbones met and she could fill him growing between her legs.

"How'd you know I want to ask something?" He was too observant.

He reached up and pulled the lip she didn't realize was between her teeth free. Ahh.

"Ask." He kissed the lip still imprinted with her teeth marks.

"Tell me about it. Describe it, like you do for me when you're inside me."

He blew out a breath, "Should be easy, I obsessed over it for ages after, before even."

"Before?"

"Yeah, I have had a crush on you since you were 12 and started coming round with Gem." He revealed.

"No, I don't believe it!"

"I loved that you already had your whole life planned out and you were sooo smart and then the next year you had boobs."

"That started out so well." She almost protested, she had boobs at 12!

"I was very impressed by the boobs, you wore this sweater—" she clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No more talking unless it's about that party."

He smiled at her and his eyes went soft at their corners, his dimples were suggestions of a deep feeling. "I think you had this idea, like this was your last Christmas here, in Holmes Chapel—"

She had had that idea. She'd intended to leave for a summer term in Sweden that spring and wasn't sure she'd be coming back. And she'd always loved that party, and Gemma's family. Even Gemma's goofy weird brother who was getting cuter and more confident. "Why do you say that?"

"Dunno," he tilted his head and his mouth flattened out and his eyes went somewhere else, he was looking at her but not the version in front of him. "I think you reminded me of my cousins' when they could first drink. Seemed like you were just throwing caution to the wind, letting it fly. Like you had nothing to lose, cuz this place was about to be a memory."

Emma could only find the energy to stare, she thought she nodded. He was spot on, but she wasn't even sure she could have articulated those feelings then. And she hadn't been that reckless ever before or after that day.

"I'd been watching you, and like I said, had a crush for years, um, and like, you were wearing that shiny top, like liquid silver and your long brown hair was all curled up and your cheeks were red with your merry making and I'd always loved your laugh. You're usually so calculated—"

"That's not a nice word."

"I don't mean it like a bad thing, like maybe a better word would be careful. Like all your moves were preparation for the grand future you were working towards. But when you laugh, it all falls away. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes and you bend at the waist and just lose it. That night you did it a lot." He kissed her knuckles. "Did you notice I was kind of shadowing you that night?"

"Honestly, not really, I was kinda out of it, or maybe really in it instead of 5 years ahead." She always was at least a week ahead in her mind. In the actual moment, she was usually just ticking that day's checklist off to get to the next thing.

"Yeah. I could see it, you were really in your body, and it made me want you more." He laughed. "The only other time I ever see you like that is...ah..."

"Go on!" She jostled his shoulder.

He bit his lip like the imp he was and said, "When we fuck, it's like when you laugh, there's no tomorrow, or next semester, or internship you have lined up, just the next orgasm on the horizon."

She knew she was blushing but she ducked her chin and shrugged. She couldn't deny it. She could feel that when he moved inside her, when they moved together, it was like when she really lost her head and laughed at something. Better, more. Emma definitely did not tell him it was never like that with anybody else.

Not her college boyfriend, or the Danish guys she'd enjoyed over their version of freshers, and certainly not the completely nice guy she'd been dating for two months back in Amsterdam. Not one of them made her get out of her head the way Harry could. They'd be following every direction she gave them from tongue placement to tempo and she'd be observing the feelings as opposed to experiencing them. But even remembering her first kiss with Harry was a sensory experience. She gave him direction because that's who she is, but she's fairly certain even if she didn't, he'd be able to get her off just by watching her.

She wondered if it was the same as her. He was more cerebral than anybody gave him credit for. Maybe if he talked more about the kiss she'd find out.

He caught her chin, "Where'd you go?" He asked with dopey green eyes.

"I'm just trying to remember." Emma lied. "Tell me more, maybe it will come back to me."

"Oh, from my memory of the proof of your breath you may never remember." Emma could feel her cheeks heat. She had really tied one on, she was absolutely rough the next day. Utterly useless.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure I'd ever be here again."

"In Holmes Chapel? Really? You thought you'd never come back?"

"I always wanted to leave so bad, I genuinely thought I wouldn't miss it."

"But you did? You do?"

She nodded. She didn't want to explain that the first time she was way more homesick than she expected and this year, well, this year she wanted him for Christmas again.

He gave her this face then and a kiss that made her think he really was a mind reader, his crystal ball in the shape of her body.

"Not everyday." Take that Mr. Intuitive.

He gave her a smile that looked like a wink and started talking, "Like I said, I'd always just found you so impressive and you were always so pretty. But you came back from Amsterdam different."

"It was all the bike riding," she deflected and ran her hands down his arms to his lower back.

"Nah, it wasn't your body. That's always been nice. You just seemed like you were so happy and it was coming out of your pores."

"With the mulled wine?"

"Yeah! Definitely the mulled wine." He kissed her one then pressed his mouth to hers," Might have been your legs."

She snorted, "See it was the biking."

"You also had them out!" He defended. She had worn a daring skirt. "And maybe the biking." He laughed with her. "You also did that snort laugh I'd only heard through the walls during sleep overs and I was kinda tracking you."

"Stalker." He made a face. "Sorry probably not a joke to you." They didn't really talk about the peculiarities of his job. He was just Hometown Harry to her. Gemma's little brother. Her Christmas gift wrapped in deliciousness the last two years.

"I didn't really mean to, honestly. Was just like water to it's path."

"That's poetic." She teased.

"Hey, I'm a songwriter."

"I'd like to see evidence of that." Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You will." She wanted to ask but he just kept going. "Wanna know the funny thing? I never really had to look hard to find you." He went on. "You always seemed to be in the corners of my eye, like a dream I was trying to remember.

"I kind of remember that." She rolled her eyes and summoned some courage, "You looked different, and I tried to ignore it, but the more wine I had, the more I found myself comparing you to the boy I remembered from two years before."

"Hadn't been that long. I was with Gem when she told you goodbye."

She cringed. "I don't think I really looked at you that day."

"Oof, good thing I have crowds of people to stroke the old ego." At least the laugh seemed genuine though his eyes were a little dull.

"I was really remembering you in your red jumper from two parties before."

"Tell me about that party- we got off track talking about the last one." Last year she remembered
In technicolor.

"Where were you the year after?"

"Studying, of course."

"Yeah makes sense." He pinched his lip, then bit hers.

"I remember thinking your jumper suited you so well and—"

"Matched your eyes."

"Yeah." She could feel the wonder of his eyes.

"But by midnight I saw that guy Spencer with his arm around your waist. Went to get a drink and was sulking with my own wine when you passed me. You had this look."

"Drunk?"

"Mischievous." He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip, "And then you pointed to the mistletoe."

"And said, 'caught you.'"

"You do remember!" He accused with a still annoyingly attractive chicken neck.

"I didn't, but I'm having a sense memory now." She widened her hips so he fit in like a piece of ikea hardware.

"Care to relive it?" He was trying to sound nonchalant, but she could see the hopeful blush.

She answered him by fitting her lips between his perfect ones and giving a lighter pressure than she had for two Christmases, waiting for his direction of how her bold move had turned out. He moaned and she sucked just a bit like she suddenly recalled. She really thought that was a wine fueled daydream, she swears. And then her mouth opened on a gasp and she slid her tongue against his and licked into his mouth before sliding her nose to the other side of his. The kiss depended until it was all over them and they would have wound up naked if they hadn't been already.

"This is different."

"We can re-enact it a little bit more faithfully later. It can be your Christmas present." Emma whispered between kisses.

"Nah." He was actually blushing, all the way down. "You're my gift."