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Assistant: Title: The Finish Line (Is A Good Place For Us To Start)
        Author: LoadedGunn LoadedGunn 
        Chapter: 5/6 
        Summary: Louis Tomlinson, one-time Formula 1 World Champion, is looking forward to the 2013 season. He’s got Zayn in his garage and Liam in his ear, he’s got Cowell Racing backing him despite former indiscretions, he’s got experience and the best race car out there. Not to mention he’s the only racer they have, after Oliver dropped out late last year.It hasn’t occurred to him that Oliver would have to be replaced by February. That is, until he finds himself at a party celebrating Harry Styles leaving Ferrari for Cowell. Harry hotshot Styles, who broke a record last year and is probably looking to make a big splash. Harry Styles, who is talented and somewhat intimidating. Harry Styles, who left Ferrari for reasons unknown and seems kind of lonely and harmless in person. Lonely, harmless, hot as f@ck. Whatever.The first thing Louis does is take him under his wing. From there it’s nine months of slow-burning romance, the past catching up to them, turning into the human puppy pile that is OT5 and a lot of feelings until, of course, reaching the finish line.
        Contents: Chapter 5: Italy - USA
    

    

        
          
          
            
  
    
    
    
  

          
        

  

  
  
    
    
       
"This is bonkers, I don't wanna leave," Niall says, jumping in the middle of Harry's and Louis' bed first thing in the morning. The mattress is actually rippling under him, it's that posh.Harry groans and wiggles away, sweaty from cuddling with Louis all night under a heavy blanket in this ridiculously humid city. It's one of those things he appreciates during, but regrets after. Kind of like begging to be spanked the night before a flight. "Please leave.""No," Niall says simply, and throws himself at Harry's torso like a deranged monkey person, giving him both a cuddle and a nipple-twist.Harry doesn't have any fight in him, and just ruffles Niall's sunshine hair. "Please?"Niall shakes his head easily and crawls up so he's lying properly between Harry and Louis. He's still in his boxers, how did he even get as far as their room? "Tommo's the one who spent 2,500 Euros on the best hotel in Bologna. I'm just enjoying it.""2,800 Euros," Louis pipes up, still half-asleep and curled in on himself.Niall snorts loudly. "I don't think you realised yet that we don't make a tenth of what you guys make.""It's only for three nights, and Haz was – sensitive," Louis justifies, making Harry smile."Plus, excuse me Niall, when was the last time you paid for something?" Harry asks.Niall gives it a moment's thought, and then taps Harry's arm pointedly. "My Segway. Ha.""Ridiculous," Louis mutters, kicking at Niall. They all know he's just jealous. Niall's been making a complete mockery of their fitness regimen by gliding along Liam on his Segway and talking sh@t. Louis has been very bitter. "Why are you really here?""Liam and Zayn fought. They made up, but, like, I didn't wanna be there for that sh@t. So I came to mam and da."Louis slaps the grin right off his face, and Harry laughs while hugging Niall comfortingly. "What's the plan today? After Niall gets us breakfast."Niall scoffs. Louis smacks him again. (Niall ignores it when Harry grabs Louis' hand and mutters, "Stop it babe, you'll cramp up your wrist again". He's a good mate.) "There's Neptune's Piazza, where apparently there's a statue of Neptune's b@n@r. There's the two towers, which I figure is some sort of Lord of The Rings reference? The usual cathedral run, San Luca, there's supposed to be all these hidden libraries and nice – ""All that in three days?" Harry interrupts curiously."Yeah, we can do it.""But why?" Niall pipes up. "We have time after the GP. Or are we flying out to Rome or Venice or summat?"Harry clears his throat. Louis beats him to it. "H's flying out to Cheshire, you tw@t.""Right! Your mam's wedding! Mate, I always thought me and Anne'd have one of those illicit affairs, y'know?""Oh my god." Harry digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You met her once.""And it was glorious. D'you know I shagged his sister?" Niall asks, twisting around to look at Louis. It's Harry who slaps him this time, then kicks him out of bed to get them all breakfast.So far he's gathered that Niall is a tw@t, this hotel is ridiculously luxurious, and that Louis remembers that the wedding is in two weeks. It's… something to file away. (Because his tactic of asking Louis to be his date for his mum's wedding has been to never bring it up unless he's having an unnecessarily loud Skype chat with his mum, Robin or Gemma. He doesn't want to bully Louis into it. But he doesn't want to borrow Lux again, either. He's got a boyfriend now, he might as well use him.)They go through Louis' planned schedule, but his heart's not really into it. Like, of course it is when Louis takes him to a romantic dinner at La Taverna del Postiglione (far too posh for the other boys, who opt for the pizza place around the corner). It's nice and Louis dressed up and obviously made an effort, but Harry's rather anxious and keeps thinking about the flight arrangements he's yet to make because he didn't know how many tickets to get. He's the definition of pathetic, really.He doesn't ask because he has no idea what Louis will say. He was so sure of everything up until last week, when they not-discussed coming out of the closet. He even made Gemma make Louis a fancy +1 invitation and everything. He was going to open it on his iPad and leave it under Louis' pillow and wait. He's an idiot.What he really isn't willing to do is let it kill his buzz, though. His mum's getting married for the first time since he was born. Exciting stuff. Harry spent his time in England getting fitted for a dinner suit and checking out the venue (and having the sleepover of his life at Louis' flat), so really the only things left on his check-list are show up and wash hair and give mum away. His mum made sure to involve him through the process, though, via email and Skype. Maybe because Harry was excited. Maybe because Harry insisted on paying for the whole thing. (Harry adores his mum.)Anyway, he refuses to make Louis a source of anxiety. He can totally juggle. Compartmentalise. He spends Tuesday through Thursday with the guys and focuses on how happy Louis makes him, absolutely not thinking about the wedding and the invite burning a hole in his iPad. Then Friday through Sunday is 100 percent about the race. He must be aces at juggling since he ends up winning Monza despite everyone betting on Louis to continue his streak.Harry's overjoyed and proud and h@rny, and this barrage of emotions collapses. As soon as he gets the mic at the podium he blurts, "This one's for Mama Twist."And then he keeps talking about it during his post-race interviews. Like, everyone is genuinely interested in how he fended everyone off despite trouble with the gearbox in the last fifteen laps, how it feels to win Monza, one of the most famous circuits on the calendar, and he can't bring himself to shut up about his mum's wedding."Please, someone ask him what he's gonna do while his mechanics strip the cars to find out what happened with the f@ck@ng gearbox," Louis snaps.Harry pouts at him.Louis doesn't let up. "No, really, who's getting married?"Harry buries his head in his hands and lets Fernando take the lead with some questions. He's the one in the red, he should be answering all the questions. Harry shouldn't be humiliated. (Maybe it gets him a bit hot. So what.)They sneak off to the bathroom again, this time Louis dropping to his knees as soon as they lock the stall door. Harry knocks Louis' cap off to the floor and buries his fingers in Louis' silky hair, moaning outright when he feels his tongue.Naturally he just blurts the question. It's after he's come from Louis' hand (Louis' very particular about when he wants to swallow), and he's l@st-drunk and overwhelmed and giddy. "Come with me.""Bit late for that," Louis snorts, standing up to wipe his hand clean."Home. Come home with me. Come – wedding with me."Louis pauses, hand still flushing the toilet. He doesn't even mock Harry. His heart's caught in his throat. Surely it's not that much of a shock. Dumb dumb dumb. "Um," Harry adds, when Louis doesn't seem keen on saying anything."I mean," Louis finally says, which isn't yes of course I'll come wedding with you. "You just said there was a wedding twenty thousand times, what if there'll be paps there?"Harry frowns. He's starting to sense a pattern of dangerous bl@wj@bs preluding a fight.So it only happened once before, but. Still a pattern."They'll see my best mate coming to my mum's wedding, what's wrong with that?" Harry deadpans.Louis rolls his eyes. "You know that's the last thing they'll see.""So they'll see my boyfriend being my date for my mum's wedding, what the f@ck's wrong with that?"Louis gapes at him. "Are we seriously gonna do this right now?"Harry crosses his arms. Maybe he could've chosen a better location for this particular discussion than a toilet they just had s@x in. But he doesn't let his doubt show. He's leaving tomorrow for two weeks and he is not doing it without Louis. "Guess we are."Six different expressions pass Louis' face, resignation being the most painful one, p@ssy the one he settles on. Naturally. "I told you what happened."For once, Harry doesn't let that soften him. "Yeah, and I told you I get it.""But you don't really, do you?" Louis says. For a moment Harry breaks, both because he's stunned (is he not standing in a toilet because he can't kiss Louis in public?) and because it occurs to him Louis' trying to sound angrier than he feels. He's not even doing a very good job of it, comes off flustered.It's very hard to stay annoyed when all he wants to do is to comfort Louis. He just wants to understand. "What does that mean?"Louis ducks his head. "It means of course you're not afraid, in two years you might have a girl on your arm and everyone will forget."Harry could punch him. "Right, 'cause it's so easy to come out as bi? 'Cause people won't call me an attention wh@r@, think I'm bluffing?""That's not what I meant," Louis says immediately, obviously frustrated."No, what you meant is that being with a guy isn't permanent for me."He waits until Louis mutters, "I would've said death sentence, but yeah."Harry deflates so abruptly he feels like collapsing. He advances on Louis and takes his hands. "It is, Lou. It's pretty permanent. I intend to have you on my arm in two years."Louis finally looks up, breathless and wide-eyed. "Oh.""Yeah." Maybe Harry is holding his breath too. He didn't really intend to drop that bomb yet. Well, he didn't intend any of this. He didn't intend to feel so gooey after feeling so upset."I don't know what to say," Louis mumbles.Harry has a f@ck@ng suggestion. "Say you feel the same way, for f@ck's sake."Louis actually stands on his tiptoes to give him a hug. "Oh my god, yeah, I do, of course I do, I wanna keep you for as long as I can. I just thought this was heading for a fight but then it was cute so I'm confused."Harry shakes his head and kisses Louis' shoulder sweetly. "I can't decide for you. I don't wanna decide for you. But we are in this together, and it is a very big deal for me. There's only seven races left. My mum's getting married. I wanna come out.""I know."It's not what Harry wanted to hear, but maybe it's all Louis can offer.Maybe Harry's making too much of a fuss. Coming out doesn't mean to him what it means to Louis, not because of the Kinsey thing but because they're very different people. Harry's always been honest with himself. Harry's always strived to be truthful and kind.Looking back, he doesn't think he ever put any effort into creating a front. Whenever someone interviewed him about his personal life he either used gender-neutral pronouns or led the conversation back to racing. He wore his pro-gay T-shirts and went to gay pubs. Jesus, his whole reason for being on the track is to be some sort of role model, why not for queer teens who like racing but hate the racing community? Why not educate their fans?Harry's been shouldering so much responsibility since he was sixteen. It has to mean something. If he can't make a difference they should just sack him right now and he'll become a very rich potato farmer.(But they won't, as he's secure in his contract with Cowell until the end of the season. He was very careful not to sign an appearance clause. The honest-to-god truth? He would've come out by 2014 with or without Louis.)"I'm serious about the wedding, though. I want you there. My mum wants to meet you after she missed us at Silverstone. She's getting married, y'know?""Yeah, think you mentioned that once or twice," Louis mutters. "I'll think about it, yeah?"Well, that's rather annoying. Harry lets go of him and steps back without saying a word. He leaves the stall and goes to track Paul down and ask about the gearbox, obviously getting sidetracked for almost an hour by fans wanting to get a picture of him. When he finally makes it inside the party, he has no idea where Louis is. So that's that.He fishes his phone out of his pocket and books his flight.*"I don't… don't know what it is, but I need that – that one thing," Liam whines, rooting around his toolbox."The breaker bar?" Zayn suggests.Louis pops his head out of the car. "There's nothing wrong with Jeanne's – it's for the robot, innit?"Zayn scoffs. "It's gonna take, what, ten years before we'll replace cars with robots? I'm just planning ahead. You'll thank me when you'll be the first to race a robot.""So it is for the robot.""Maybe," Liam says with a grin, and wanders off to find a spare bar.That isn't so great for Louis. Zayn zeroes in on him within a minute. "So mate."Louis glares. "If your dirty hands come near my hair I'll fire you immediately.""You won't survive a lap without me," Zayn says, but he clasps his hands behind his back like a good boy. He's still not to be trusted. Though, it's Louis' fault for hanging around the garage while there's a party raging in his and Harry's honour. He likes being with Jeanne, even when he's not driving her. She's never asked him for anything."Maybe. But I made you, and I can break you just as easily. Who pays – ""Listen, you c@ck," Zayn cuts him off. "What's going on with Harry?"Louis has to resist the urge to crawl back in the car and listen to some music while Zayn and Liam help take Marcel apart. "What d'you mean?""I mean you're following me and Liam like a lost puppy. I love you bro, but we've got used to you clinging to Harry. It's a lot quieter."Louis glares at him. "Not a lost puppy." Zayn doesn't bite the bullet. Louis sighs. "He's cross with me.""Because of the wedding?""He told you?""Nah, just figured you'd be dumb about it."This is why Louis would've been better off with Liam here. Liam is nicer. Sometimes. "What's so dumb about – ""Dumb, dumb, stop talking. F@ck@ng go with him."Louis shrinks back into Jeanne. "I dunno, it seems like such a big deal?"Zayn stares at him. He's doing the whole My Beard And Princely Eyes Make Me Authoritative. It's sort of working. "You're touching your stupid matching tattoo right now."He is. He hadn't noticed that. It's just something he does, it – great, Liam's back. "You watched Titanic the other day and bawled all over each other. You never have with me." Liam is useless, he can f@ck off. "And don't even pretend you don't want to meet his mum and find out what Harry's been telling her."Louis swallows. "Are we – ready for that?"Liam goes to answer, probably violently, but Zayn puts a gentle hand on his arm. "You're not talking about the family stuff, are you?"Louis ducks his head. Heavy footsteps are his only warning before Liam and Zayn wrap their arms around him. "Babes, it's alright if you're scared.""I'm not," Louis confesses quietly. "I don't care, I'm not scared of – love. Fear has nothing to do with reality." He thinks."Well, the reality is that if you let him go tomorrow you're gonna be stuck for two weeks without him," Zayn reasons.When he puts it like that, it does sound unbearable. "No.""Yeah. You'll be so pathetic you'll just come out for his attention."Louis snorts into his sleeve. A lot has changed since he found himself in a real relationship with Harry. He's changed, so much, he and the way he felt about certain things, but even if The Disaster of 2012 isn't some dark cloud looming over him all the time, it has made him irreparably hesitant about coming out of the closet. It's just a fact. He's cynical about it. "Can you imagine? Just saying it in an interview. Or a tweet."Liam shrugs. "I think it'll be awesome. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lou. What could happen if you came out?"Louis gives him a look. Liam shrugs again. "So some people will like you less, whatever. You're not racing for fans. You're racing 'cause you're the best. Who will fire the best?""Yeah, plus the dude from Prison Break did it, and no one even cares," Zayn puts in before Louis can argue.Louis highly doubts it. There must be a reason no one's done it before. Just thinking about it makes him dizzy. There's just no way. It's more than the threat of being fired, it's more than his relationship with Harry or his family. Liam and Zayn couldn't understand – he's not even sure Harry sees it his way. He's not even sure he understands himself.Sometimes, when he has a (now rare) relationship freak-out, he thinks the hardest part about trying to be honest with Harry is that it forces him to be honest with himself. And honestly? When Harry said that there are only seven races left and he wanted to come out, Louis couldn't relate.But. Things have changed. Louis can't just keep doing what he did. He can't give up on the closet, but he definitely can't give up on Harry. Or rather, make it any easier for Harry to give up on him. So he makes a choice."Let's start slow, yeah?""Like the wedding?" Zayn asks hopefully."Yeah, like the wedding. It doesn't have to mean anything."Zayn and Liam high-five each other. They are the worst of dorks. "Don't you think you should tell Hazza, though?"He leaps out of the car and starts to run out of the garage. Then he backtracks and gives Zayn the hug of his life, and Liam their secret handshake. "I love you the most," he whispers, and skips away.It's a good half hour before he actually locates Harry. He's kind of breathless from nerves and running around, ducking everyone who might approach him. Tommo is Very Important, especially at sponsor functions after winning second place. At least Harry's hard to miss, between his broad shoulders and tall hair. Then he faces another problem – shoving off the throng of people buzzing around Harry. Why did he have to win, Jesus.When Harry spots him his face flashes from delighted to annoyed, but he's 85 percent faking that pout. Louis' sure of it.Finally, he squeezes in next to Harry and nods towards the corner of the room. Harry looks rather confused, so Louis has to lead him away. Honestly, he needs a compass."If you came back to be a tw@t – "Louis puts a finger on his mouth to shut him up. "I wanna come wedding with you."Harry's huge smile dwarfs Louis' finger. "Yeah?""Yes. You'll need a hot date to distract people from your unwashed hair.""Actually, I'll definitely wash my hair, I put this reminder – ""Shut up," Louis cuts him off again. He's excited all of a sudden, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It feels like he's just asked Harry to formal. Two weeks just with Harry. It doesn't have to mean anything.Harry chews on his bottom lip, probably in thought, possibly to wind Louis up. "Thanks," he says finally.Louis rolls his eyes. "Don't thank me, you idiot. I wanna do it. I'm sorry about before." He looks around, and then stands on his tiptoes to add, "I love you quite a bit."Harry actually blushes. That still amazes Louis, really, that he can take this man, this influential man who has just won a major Grand Prix, and turn him into an overgrown child. He loves him quite a lot, if he's honest."Well, this is very exciting," Harry says. He looks seconds away from kissing Louis, but when he ducks down it's just to whisper, "since I already got you a plane ticket."Walking cheeseball, Harry is.They spend the flight with Harry babbling about the wedding and Louis listening intently, trying to keep track of all the names. He already met Gemma in Silverstone, and she was a right laugh. Then there's Anne and Robin, and aunts and uncles, and family friends, and Louis gives up and just nods along. They grab a cab to Louis' London flat, so he can dig out the nice suit from his championship party two years ago, and Harry can pick up his precious car. Which he intends to drive them in. All the way up to Cheshire."Wouldn't it be easier to take the Range Rover?" Louis asks, stood in his garage with his arms crossed.Harry pouts at him from the T-Bird. "What's wrong with Toto?"He considers telling Harry that the three-hour drive will take five hours with Mr. Safety First behind the wheel, but that might be too insulting. "I have this irrepressible urge to have s@x in it. So it might be counterproductive.""Oh." Harry flushes. He shifts from foot to foot, and then lights up when he thinks of a solution. "What if we have s@x in it now? Then you'll get it out of your system."Louis should try not to be too insulting more often. It gets him in the backseat of a T-Bird with Harry's fingers f@ck@ng him relentlessly. The setting seems a bit juvenile, but Harry knows what the f@ck he's doing. He's got Louis in a state where he doesn't even feel his head banging against the door, his back arching high even with his legs thrown over Harry's shoulders. He bites down hard on Harry's ring, still in his mouth since he'd slipped it off with his teeth while getting Harry's fingers nice and wet.He's too close just from Harry's fingers stretching him. "Gonna come, want your mouth." Harry's quick to obey, squeezes himself on the floor of the car so he can suck Louis off without taking his fingers out, all just so he wouldn't have to shove Louis up against the door to make room."Perfect, perfect boy," Louis murmurs, threading his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry hums around him happily, and Louis bucks down on his fingers, cursing loudly. "Harder – oh – so f@ck@ng good," he breathes. "Gonna come down your throat."Harry moans and crooks his fingers and that's all it takes, really. At least Louis is a man of his word. Harry works him through it, twisting his fingers until Louis' gasping and tugging on his arm weakly. He climbs on top of Louis, waits patiently while Louis unbuttons his jeans. Harry Styles is the only person in the world who wears skinnies on a plane ride.Finally, he gets his jeans and briefs past his hips and wraps a hand around his c@ck. It's a tight fit in the backseat, Harry's head almost connecting painfully with the roof, so Louis works fast. He winds him up with sure pulls, lets him thrust into it. He considers blowing him, then remembers the metal band still caught under his tongue. He lifts his free hand distractedly to slide the ring down his middle finger. It fits snugly.Harry looks up through his lashes, probably because of Louis slowing down, and actually gulps when he catches the silver round Louis' finger. His hips stutter, and he drops his head to Louis' shoulder and says, "Switch.""What?" Louis asks, picking up the pace."Switch hands, I wanna feel it." Louis arches an eyebrow but does as Harry said. He hasn't got time to worry about hurting him, since two seconds after the cool metal touches the head of his c@ck Harry whispers f@ck and comes all over Louis' belly. Which is. Rather hot.Louis doesn't even give Harry time to catch his breath. "When's the wedding again?""Uh, Saturday," Harry mutters, and it's a testament to how out of it he is that he hesitated. "On Yom Kippur.""What's that? A holiday?""No, it's a sad day," Harry explains. "You're supposed to fast.""So why is the wedding day on it?""Oh, we're not Jewish."Louis rolls his eyes so hard he's surprised he hasn't rolled out of the car. "I've had your d@ck in my mouth enough times to know you're not Jewish, Harold. What the hell does it matter that it's on yum whatever?"Harry shrugs and giggles. "It doesn't, I just know it's Yom Kippur because Ben couldn't come.""What are you even talking – look, my point was, maybe we could stay home for a couple more days?"At that Harry looks up in interest. "I dunno, what are you offering?"Louis raises his hand and taps his lower lip with his ringed finger, since it appears to be good teasing material. He remembers way too late that he's still got come on his hand, and well, since it's already here. He looks in Harry's eyes and slips his middle finger past his lips, tonguing at the tip. "Figured I'll spank you again, but I won't let you come this time. You'll have to wait until I'm riding you into the mattress, getting your sore @rs@ to drag on the blanket. Think it'll get as red as last time?"Harry's mouth actually hangs open for a moment. "Jesus Christ. We can leave on Wednesday."Louis smiles up at him sweetly. Harry growls and pins Louis' shoulders down, kissing him hungrily.So after that detour, they make their way to Harry's hometown. They end up taking the classic car, after much begging from Harry, and this ride is mostly Louis babbling. He's actually getting nervous, drumming his fingers on his pulled up knees. Harry keeps sneaking glances at his hands, probably since he's still wearing his ring and Harry's weirdly obsessed with it. Louis said Harry hadn't been good enough to gain the ring back, but it was a blatant lie. They both know Harry's the very best boy when he wants to be. So either he hadn't been trying very hard to win the ring back, or Louis just didn't want to give it to him. "Is there anything I should know? Like, not to offend anyone? Oh, can I curse?"Harry snorts. "Don't say anything offensive, and only curse around people under thirty. And stop worrying, everyone's gonna love you."Louis sulks into his knees. "I'm not so sure.""Honestly, babe, they're nice people. And you've met Gemma, yeah?""Yeah.""So I'll just tell her to keep an eye on you. It'll be great, you'll get on like a house on fire."Wait. "Oh my god, you haven't told them I was coming?"Harry narrows his eyes at him through the rear-view mirror. "We designed the bl@@dy E-vite. Chill. I love you, they'll love you."Louis mouths at the ring absently. "S'not fair. You're the charming one, I'm the bitchy one.""You say that like we're a couple of criminals. Or a tag-team of cops. In a romantic comedy."He smiles sappily. The dream team. "I do like uniforms. But I'd be a horrible leading character in a movie. I should be, like. The hilarious sidekick who gets sh@t done while the hero has dilemmas and sh@t."Harry hums in thought. "Maybe. You could be my Ron Weasley. Or the waterbender with the hair.""He wasn't a waterbender, Harry, that's the whole point. And I wouldn’t be from the water tribe, I hate the cold."They continue the discussion all along the M40, including food pick-up, until Louis actually forgets his troubles. The last thing he says before Harry's "we're here" is, "In short, you're Kermit, I'm Miss Piggy."He definitely won that one, since Harry says "we're here" in a somewhat convincing Kermit impression.Louis rubs his hands on his knees and finally unfolds to climb out of the car. "What happens today?""It's about dinner time, so there's that. Just mum, Robin and Gemma. Tomorrow we get to work while Gemma and my aunt take my mum for a surprise. We're gonna finish the reception table assignments, write the final payment checks, get in touch with the photographer. Just help out and stuff."Louis nods along while they walk to the door. It's good that they have tasks. He'll have stuff to do. Harry unlocks the door and Louis follows him blindly, running over the list in his head. Dinner, table, checks, photographer, guest book ideas?He hasn't realised he's lost Harry until he finds himself in a kitchen with only Harry's sister. She's on the phone, and looks a bit frazzled. She's in sweats, even though it's already evening. There's still something very… fabulous about her. The first thing he'd said to her was, "Are we sure you're not the celebrity in the family?""A bit of shopping, some pampering, it'll be fun," she says, her eyes trained on a calendar in front of her. "Alright, okay." She rolls her eyes to herself. Louis can't help snorting, and she immediately twists her head to look at him in surprise. A pleasant smile spreads on her face. And then she presses two fingers to her temple and mimes shooting herself. Louis puts his hands on his neck and pretends to strangle himself in solidarity. "Right, nan, I've gotta go, the dream team just came home. No, he's not here right now. I'll tell him to ring you after dinner. Love you bye," she says in one breath, and then throws her phone on the table quite dramatically. "Let me tell you, I've spoken to more relatives in the past month than I have my whole life. It's a drag."Louis takes that as permission to step into the kitchen. "And you let Harry travel the world without a care? Very selfless."She smiles, more genuine this time, and nods gravely. "I'm a saint. How are you then? Saw you Sunday. Well, saw my brother beat you."Louis sits down next to her and pretends to pout. "Eh, I let him win, you know how he gets.""Sure, yeah. Just don't tell him that, he really looks up to you.""Does he now?" Louis arches an eyebrow.Gemma shrugs. "Well, I don't know what it's like now that he actually knows you, but since he started obsessing over Formula 1 you became a household name."Louis puffs up. "I'd like to think he still admires my prowess.""He adores you so much he's dumb about it, honestly." She says it offhandedly, but the way she watches Louis is telling. He's being evaluated.He gulps, remembering that the last (and first) time they'd met he hadn't even admitted to himself that he loved Harry. "It's mutual. We've discussed it."There's a second when she seems to be making up her mind, and then she nods at him approvingly. "Good. I'm not saying I'll break your kneecaps if you hurt my baby brother, but I do know where we keep the rat poison."Louis gulps again. Gemma smiles at him innocently. "Now let's skip the awkward part and talk about Singapore. What're your chances?"Well, that's easy, if not surprising. Louis can talk anyone's ear off about racing. Harry finally deigns to join them a few minutes later, carrying the Indian food they'd gotten on the way and a broad smile. "Yo.""Yeah, yo," Gemma snaps. "You were supposed to be here two days ago."Harry ducks his head and blushes. "Sorry. I'm super ready to help now."Gemma huffs. "Super. Honestly, I've been doing all the heavy lifting here. When you get married, I'm not doing sh@t."Harry giggles nervously, which isn't the witty retort Louis would've expected, and his eyes dart to Louis' left hand. Where he's still wearing his ring. And Louis finally, finally gets it. Jesus. He has to deflect before Gemma notices. "He'll be rich and disgusting enough to hire someone who'd do it all for him," Louis says.That shakes Harry up, at least. He glares at Louis and draws up to the table, setting the bags between Louis and Gemma. "Yeah, might even hire a husband," he says pointedly while ducking down to kiss the top of Gemma's head.Louis sticks his tongue out at him, until Harry walks around and kisses the top of Louis' head, too. His face flushes embarrassingly. They've done much, much worse in front of the guys, but this simple show of affection in front of Harry's sister feels odd and foreign to him. She doesn't bat an eyelash. "How's Dusty doing?" she asks."Still old. Mum's good too, she's on the phone with nan. Did you tell her I'm home?"Gemma smirks in response. Harry groans. "Fine, I'll ring her after dinner. Speaking of, go away while I set the table.""Alright, but I'm taking Louis with me. You don't deserve help."Harry looks between them hesitantly, but there's a smile threatening to break on his face, Louis can tell. He gives a tiny nod and Harry shrugs. "Guess I don't. Though the last time I set the table by myself I was in Spain – or Malaysia? Anyway, Niall or Nick went to – ""Please stop," Gemma and Louis say at the same time. It's like a magical bonding moment, brought upon them by the gods of awkward family/boyfriend encounters. They both stand up and Gemma clamps a hand on Louis' shoulder. Louis can only brush Harry's wrist when she leads him away to the living room.So after the little iceberg has been broken, Louis only has Harry's mum to crack. Dinner goes overwhelmingly well. Since there's a wedding in two days, Harry's New Boyfriend isn't the spectacle of the night. Harry's mum is as nice as Harry, and Robin and Gemma are hilarious. He doesn't get asked any nightmarish questions, as most of the meal is filled with Harry catching up on wedding stuff and Gemma snarking at him.He doesn't feel excluded, though, since Anne keeps smiling at him and – more importantly – Harry's hand keeps creeping to his under the table. He reacts bodily every time, whether it's a cough or a blush, because. It's just nice. It's homey and lovely and nothing to Harry but absolutely daring for Louis. Though he's flustered, he tries to soak it up, charmed despite himself. It's just going really well.Harry must sense Louis' cautious happiness, when he sneaks glances and brushes their ankles together. He keeps smiling at him, a little private smile reserved only for Louis. He desperately wants to kiss him, spicy sauce and all. He probably could. His stomach flutters.He gets the expected one-on-one with Harry's mum after dinner, when Gemma goes upstairs, Harry goes to chat with his nan and Robin goes to clear the table. Anne gives him a look and nods towards the living room. Louis follows nervously."Congratulations," he blurts as soon as they sit down. "On the wedding, I mean."She smiles, ignoring his awkwardness, thank god. "Thank you. We never got a chance to meet, since I had my fittings when you raced in England.""Right, yeah. Well, I'm Louis. I'm glad Harry invited me."She doesn't stop smiling, so. That's probably good. "I'm glad too. He cares for you a lot."It's a bit of a repeat of his exchange with Gemma, only this is Harry's mum. This isn't the time to be shy. "I know, he's got this… way about him, to make everyone feel loved and cared for. You've raised a very special man."That must get him some points, as she nods at him approvingly. "Look, I know it's scary to meet the parents for the first time, so I don't want to make it any harder than it has to be for you. But I need to know if you're serious about this."Louis thumbs Harry's ring unconsciously. "I really am.""Good lad. So, tell me about yourself."Louis hasn't been in a job interview since he was nineteen, and has definitely never been in this particular situation, so he tries to stick to his Wikipedia page. 25 from Donny, currently leading for a second world championship, 31 wins under his belt, four little sisters, divorced parents, been all around the globe, is hopelessly in love with one Harry Styles. Well, that one might not be on that part of the Internet. And Anne probably knows it already. But just in case, Louis stresses the point.By the time Harry stumbles back to the living room, Louis has basically bared his soul to her, and she's called him both dear and sweetheart. Either she's as polite as her son, or she genuinely likes him. It's sort of a success. They both look up and Harry darts his eyes curiously between them. "Nan alright?" Anne asks."Yeah, aces. Gem gave me a list of things for us to do tomorrow. Don't worry about a thing.""Wasn't worried." She stands up to kiss Harry's cheek. "I know you two boys can handle it."Louis beams at Harry behind her back, and Harry winks at him.Everything about the wedding is beautiful and elegant, except for the bride's son.Harry's an absolute mess. He goes from manically excited to sobbing heap every few hours, and Louis' the only one who can comfort him because everyone else is freaking out enough as it is. Two hours before the reception he catches Harry crying in the toilet of the venue, and drags him into a stall for a tight hug. "Aw, baby," he coos, playing with Harry's hair. He calms down considerably in his arms. "Why are you getting so emotional?""'S'my mum," is all he says. And Louis' supposed to be the mummy's boy, f@ck."Are you gonna toast? Wanna work on that?"Harry snorts wetly. "Have you heard me public speaking before?""Yeah, actually, every Sunday. You'll definitely c@ck it up."He smiles when Harry laughs. "Yeah, should probably let Gemma do her thing.""She has got a degree and all." That gets him a pinch. And then a gentle stroke over his dinner jacket. (It took them two hours to get ready just because they kept dressing each other in smart suits and then undressing each other because Harry looks unbelievably fit in a nice suit. Rinse and repeat.)Harry manages to get a hold of himself by the ceremony itself, leaving Louis to his own concerns. The wedding is small, but some people still approach him and Harry as the celebrities they are. No one seems really scandalised about Louis being there, though, and he makes sure not to take pictures (other than Harry making him do weird things for Vines). So he'll probably make it out of here alive.He sits with Gemma's boyfriend most of the time, as Harry has guests to entertain. He's a Yorkshire lad who's too serious for Louis' tastes, but they're both too buzzed on champagne to complain about the company. At first Louis thought he was a fan, since he asked about the last GP, but then he realised Will just studied up when he started dating Gemma, because she and Harry are extremely close. "She really loves him," Will says, nodding to where Gemma and Harry are dancing awkwardly. (Gemma leading, of course.)Louis can relate. "Guess she does."They toast for no particular reason. "Who're you then?" Will asks.Louis takes an extra long sip. "Harry's best mate.""Right, yeah." He doesn't seem to buy it, maybe more perceptive than Louis gave him credit for. Whatever. "Think your boy's looking for you."Louis looks back at the dance floor, to see Harry gesturing wildly at him. He sighs exasperatedly, but can't help but smile. "Duty calls.""Cheers."Louis weaves his way through the crowd until he reaches Harry, notices the empty champagne flute in his hand. "Thought you were staying sober 'till the end. No naughty things in your mouth."Harry snorts loudly. "We both know I already overlooked that one. How're you doing?""Good." He nods resolutely. "Surprisingly welcome.""Well, I'm sad that's surprising to you, but I'm happy you feel welcome. Wanna dance with me?"Louis looks around. It's mostly elderly people who don't recognise him and young people who are too drunk to care, but there's still a nervous tug in his stomach. All it takes is a look at Harry, though, giddy and charming and suit-wearing. He takes Harry's free hand and twirls him around twice, releasing some demonic giggle out of him. Neither of them know how to actually dance, so they just spin each other around and laugh, moving vaguely to the music the DJ's playing and making up their own moves.It's just… fun. Harry's always fun and lively and so sweet, and when the music drops to a quiet love song Louis doesn't dare to slow-dance with him, so Harry just leans down to whisper in his ear how much he loves him. It makes his heart hurt, honestly. His fingers practically shake when he tangles them in Harry's tie. Harry looks around for a second, and then ducks down to kiss Louis' hand discretely. Specifically, his clunky ring.He's just… happy.*"Get the pasta," Harry says, scanning the aisle for his favourite tomato sauce.Louis huffs next to him. "I already got the pasta.""The wrong pasta." Harry looks down to flick Louis' nose, before going back to his sauce search.Louis stomps his feet. "I could be in Rome right now, kicking it at the Coliseum. Dancing my @rs@ off with an Italian model called Leonardo." He even rolled the "r". He's adorable.Harry peeks around to make sure the aisle is deserted, and then pecks Louis' lips. "But you're grocery shopping with me. How about that. 1:0 for Styles.""-1 for Tommo." He pouts, but chases Harry's lips for another kiss, so it doesn't really count.The past two weeks couldn't have gone better if Harry had actually planned them. After the wedding Gemma convinced mum and Robin to jet off to Spain for their honeymoon immediately, rather than wait around, since "Haz and Louis can house-sit, yeah?"The original plan had been to drive back to Louis' flat and, well, enjoy their break, but Harry guessed they could have s@x at home, too.It feels different, though. It's not a house, it's a home. With a cat Louis resents and a fridge to fill with groceries. With Harry's childhood bed to defile. Louis can complain all he wants, but he must feel as domesticated as Harry does. He's the one who suggested cooking a meal in the first place."Have you ever actually cooked anything before?" Harry asked suspiciously.Louis looked back at him fiercely. "No, but since it's not our kitchen we can risk it.""Can we though?"Louis twisted his arm, literally, until Harry agreed to let Louis make dinner. He was so pleased he f@ck@d Harry right against the fridge.So anyway, yeah, Louis' just as pathetic as Harry, even though sometimes he likes to pretend he's tough. He's still wearing Harry's ring for f@ck's sake. At first it was reasonable, made the spanking more fun, but then it just turned into a thing that makes Harry's whole body warmer whenever he notices. He likes that Louis wears his ring, the way he likes wearing the Sziget wristband, the way they share jackets and jumpers even though they're completely different sizes. It's nice. It's comfortable.They might be house-sitting for three and a half days, but Harry ends up buying two weeks' worth of groceries, because Louis keeps adding sh@t to the cart like a child and Harry just goes with it, because every time he lets Louis get away with it he gets a kiss. They're in public buying groceries and he's getting kisses. He might be dreaming.Back at home Louis kicks Harry out of the kitchen to "work his magic", and then drags Harry back into the kitchen because he has no idea where the pots and pans are. He's trying to do chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in Parma ham with homemade mash. Harry finds that far too ambitious, but Louis claims he got it from Jamie Oliver and "won't go off-script"."I should probably stay. Just to supervise. I won't interrupt."Louis squints at him, calculating. "What will you be wearing?"Harry looks down at his briefs and unbuttoned plaid shirt. "This?""With your t@ts out?"Harry smirks at him and hops on the kitchen island, spreading his thighs as he goes. "Yup."It's very satisfying when Louis just stares at him. "Will I be positively reinforced for my cooking?"He shrugs, his shirt slipping a little over his shoulder. He kicks his feet back and forth. "Depends on whether you blow me while the chicken's in the oven."Louis looks quite ready to get on his knees right now, but f@ck@ng up his first cooking experience might bruise his ego. He just looks so cute, in soft sweats with his glasses on, fierce concentration on his face as he checks the recipe on his phone. Harry takes multiple pictures of the process, cheering him on and checking the recipe himself just in case Louis needs something.He sort of. Doesn't stop taking pictures when Louis shuts the oven door and crowds between Harry's thighs. He honestly believes there must be documentation of Louis' pretty pink lips wrapped around a c@ck, his cute glasses still perched precariously on his nose. His beautiful cheekbones even more prominent as he sucks hard. It's like, Harry's political agenda. To promote Louis' c@cks@ck@ng. He thinks he should switch to video – "Oh Jesus."He gently puts his hand on Louis' head, looks through the camera rather than the actual sight because he might just shoot his load. His hand looks obscenely big, fingers buried in Louis' messy hair. He can't resist tugging for a second, and Louis doesn't complain for once. Harry realises he's trying to put on a show for the camera. So he gives him more, hitches his hips and gasps when Louis' cheeks hollow. "You look so good," he ventures. He is shooting a p@rn scene, might as well act the part.Louis quirks an eyebrow in surprise, and pulls back to tongue at the tip, actually managing to smirk while his mouth is stuffed full of c@ck. He looks straight into the camera, the little sh@t, and winks. Harry cannot handle that. He grabs better hold of Louis' hair and guides his head back down, taking full advantage of Louis' cooperative mood.He should have known Louis had a plan. It couldn't have been that easy. Because the second the timer they put on the oven starts beeping, Louis just pulls off abruptly, leaving Harry's wet c@ck to slap against his stomach, his hips still snapping up. He can see that Louis' uncomfortably hard, but he still pulls off a perfect poker face, checks the chicken slowly and carefully, consulting his recipe and actually starts working on the mashed potatoes. Harry's just sitting here breathless, cursing and a second away from just wanking off. The moment he puts a hand on himself, though, Louis turns around and tuts at him.He curls his fingers into fists and presses them against the marble to distract himself. This is not what he asked for. "This is not what I asked for."Louis laughs to himself. His voice is rough. "Poor Haz." He has the nerve to baby him, the d@ckh@@d. "You can wait, can't you? Be good?"He crosses his ankles, squirming. "Yeah."Louis actually keeps him waiting up to the dinner itself, snogging him every few minutes to keep him hard and on edge. It's basically torture. Thank f@ck@ng Christ he gets him off before they eat, lets him sit at the dinner table and then climbs on his lap and grinds against him. What Louis doesn't let him do is take a shower right away, so he has to go through dinner filthy and sticky and completely dazed. If this was all a trick so Harry wouldn't criticise his food, Louis' an evil mastermind.So that adds another household chore they have to do: cleaning the kitchen thoroughly, and swearing not to have s@x in it again. Harry will never be able to look his mother in the eye.Despite that, the days pass in a blissful haze. Without the wedding preparation weighing on him, and Niall's constant reassurances regarding Marcel, Harry's completely free to just relax and enjoy having Louis all to himself.They're just cuddling in front of Gogglebox when Louis realises they've been playing house. Harry's petting both the cat and Louis, commenting on the state of Channel 4, when Louis suddenly turns his head in his lap so he's watching Harry's face rather than the television. He looks confused and scandalised at once. Harry removes his fingers from his hair and quirks an eyebrow. "Lou?""I feel like I just time-skipped twenty years."Harry isn't really sure where he's going with this. "C'mon, with Zayn on our side we'll be chilling in our hovercraft in twenty years."Louis reaches up to pinch Harry's forearm, like he's trying to say something important. Dusty immediately settles himself in the crook of Louis' elbow, effectively debilitating him. Harry coos. Louis curses. "I mean, like. This is really serious for me." Harry's ready to agree and lean down to kiss his nose, but Louis looks like he's having some sort of revelation, and has more to say. "Like, sh@t Harry, we've got a race this Sunday and I didn't even think about it until just now because I was too busy listening to your views on pop culture. I'm. I've never. Like, I always thought they'd have to crowbar me off the track when I'm sixty, but now." His blue eyes are huge when he reaches his point. His thumb rolls Harry's ring on his middle finger. "I want us to have ten grandkids when I'm sixty. Oh god. Move to the country and have a Border Collie."Harry's heart melts in his chest. He smiles brightly down at Louis, warm and tingly all over. He thinks they're both overwhelmed. He shoos Dusty so he can cradle Louis' head in his hands and kiss him deeply. "I want twenty babies," he whispers. "We're good, Lou. This is really good. I wanna make you my spouse.""Who the f@ck says spouse?" Louis asks, momentarily distracted."I do. I love it. It sounds like. Spider and mouse."Louis sighs into his mouth. "Sometimes I feel like I love you so much I could drown in it." He says it in a tiny voice, and Harry gets unexpectedly choked up. It's just. Louis' got so much in him that no one knows about, he packs away all these emotions that he will never show anyone. Except Harry. Who knows him best, who loves him best.He thinks that's beautiful. "You're beautiful," he whispers back, in a kiss. "Our future is beautiful.""Christ, I'm growing up."Harry brushes their noses together. He'll probably never stop smiling. "It had to happen sometime. Think we can talk about it?"He expects a flat-out no, just like he got the last couple of times he's brought up coming out. Louis takes his breath away when he says, "Yeah. But right now I wanna snog you for hours. After Singapore, yeah?""After Singapore."The last thing they do before the 13-hour flight to Asia is get more matching tattoos, this time on their anklebones: an H for Louis and an L for Harry. It couldn't be more obvious. Harry couldn't be more content.*   
  (x)
*The Singapore round starts out well enough.He had to retire during the first practice due to valve problems in his engine, but Zayn got right on it and Louis wasn't too bothered heading into the actual Grand Prix. It's a tight race with Harry for a while, but Louis manages to snag the lead. He's so excited, so focused on the road, the next turn, that it takes him a few seconds to notice that his tyres are dragging. From there all it takes is two seconds to shunt it.Two seconds feel like forever in a race car. As soon as he notices something's wrong he has no way to be clear-headed about it, because he and Jeanne are one, when she's lagging Louis stresses, feels absolutely helpless. He doesn't hear Liam's yelling because he's trying to communicate with his car, soothing her through a turn, listening to the noise like it's a language.He zooms out of the turn, but doesn't have time to hoot before he's slamming into a barrier at full speed. It actually takes him a full second before he realises he's injured: he's absolutely stunned by the lights, by watching Jeanne's parts flying, and all he's thinking is that should be inside and no and she's bleeding. Then he tries to move his foot, some misguided attempt to back her up, and it hurts so much he can't possibly breathe.The Singapore round started out well enough.*It's funny how easy it is to lose perspective on the track. Harry knows he's going fast, but he's only as fast as the driver ahead of him. In most cases, Louis.It's funny how even on a Formula 1 racetrack, seeing a crash right before your eyes still slows everything down. They all know what to do to avoid a chain reaction, know to gradually skirt to the sides. Harry's been over the instructions dozens of times.But. Harry recognises the car that's split open, bruised and wingless. And he knows, he knows Louis was going way too fast to make it out with only cuts and bruises, he was right behind him, he was chasing him out of the corner, he knows something's gone horribly wrong, but actually seeing it flips some switch in him.He just doesn't give a f@ck. He doesn't listen to the team radio, ignores practically every safety measure and stops the car and climbs out. It's three seconds that feel like seven hours until he makes his way to Jeanne, his uniform heavier than ever, the noise absolutely deafening when he takes off his helmet and chucks it away. He doesn't think about anything, pure terror freezing his blood and clogging up his mind. If anything crosses his mind, it's sh@t and not again and what if he -He hasn't noticed he'd stopped breathing until he sees Louis move. Then it's an hour-long exhale. He rushes to him, faster than he's ever run in his life, and grabs the crumpled c@ckpit. Louis has thrown his own helmet away, and he's breathing so hard, blinking wildly and sweating and gritting his teeth and he must be in so much pain and when he finally notices Harry his eyes widen in recognition.There's an irrational urge to just pull Louis out of the car, to save him from this mess and kiss his face and fix him, but he knows he's too shaky and graceless, he's crying too hard to actually help, he doesn't even trust himself to touch Louis. What does happen is he gets as close as he can, trying to will Louis' eyes to focus on him, trying to calm him down with incessant babbling. "Don't move love, you might have whiplash, the R-car will be here in just a tick."Louis' frantic when he finally speaks, and even though his voice sounds like it's ripped from his throat, it's still comforting somehow. "It hurts, I – my leg – ""Ssh, I know it hurts but you're alright, I'm right here and I'll take care of you, you're gonna be just fine, Jesus Christ."Even when the rescue car finally comes and paramedics pull Harry away to attend to Louis, Harry can't physically tear his eyes from him. He looks so scared, tiny in his dismantled car, and if he feels even a fifth of how terrified Harry is, he can't even imagine how Louis' still conscious. They put a neck brace on him and pile him into the rescue car, and he seems unable to look away from Harry, keeps asking for him when he's not screaming from the pain. Harry just wedges himself between the paramedics, knows he's getting in the way but what the f@ck is he supposed to do.His heart breaks in half when he's told he can't get in the car with Louis. He's just – he's so bl@@dy scared, it hurts to breathe, he needs eye contact to keep breathing, he – but f@ck, Louis' panicking worse than him. He wipes his face and takes a deep breath, waits until Louis' actually in the car before he tells him, "Love, I'll see you at hospital, I swear it. They're gonna take the best care of you. You're the star, remember?"Louis bites his already bl@@dy lip, raising his little hand in some attempt to cling to Harry, even though Harry's still outside of the car. Of all the emotional farewells he could have gotten, Louis whispers, "Make sure they salvage Jeanne."Harry actually laughs, an ugly, bitter sound, not funny at all. When they close the doors and fly off, Harry feels some tether breaking between them.Knowing Louis' in good hands doesn't help at all. Harry's just dry-heaving, collapsing on the grass because he can't seem to be able to move his feet. He never thought he'd feel this way again. And that's dumb, isn't it, considering what he does for a living. He expected to witness accidents, has gotten in a few shunts himself, but this, this brutal feeling of being torn apart, he could never have imagined this. He could never have imagined Louis, golden and all-powerful and infallible Louis, crashing.He might be throwing up. He might even be fainting, he doesn't actually register anything even as the guys from the salvage cars mutter "he's not gonna make the restart, he's lost it" and help him into their car. He keeps seeing it in flashes, Louis swerving, Louis slamming into the wall, Louis screaming, blood on the pavement by Arthur's house. He has lost it.It's maybe fifteen minutes after the crash that he's stashed away at the garage. He knows he's meant to stay active, "reclaim his sense of control", all the psychological tricks, but he hasn't got an ounce of energy in him. He doesn't utter a single word until he feels hands wrap around him, and something triggers him to respond, a sense of familiarity."Ni," he whispers, turning wide eyes to the blonde head settling over his shoulder."Hi H," Niall says in his ear. He notes that his voice is rough, like he'd been crying his eyes out too. Not that surprising, if he's honest. Niall loves Louis. Everyone loves Louis. A sob climbs up Harry's throat. "How are you doing?"Harry sniffles. "I'm so scared I can't think.""I know. But it was f@ck@ng brave of you to just toss your helmet like that in the middle of the track and try to help him.""I think you mean f@ck@ng mental."Niall chuckles. "That too. Did – did he say anything?"If Niall weren't draped over him, Harry would've curled in on himself. "To take care of Jeanne."This gets a proper laugh out of him. "Bl@@dy Tommo." Harry finds himself laughing too. What the f@ck has he got to lose?"D'you know where he is?" he asks quietly."Yeah, he's at the medical centre."A tiny measure of relief blossoms in Harry's chest. "It wasn't bad enough for a hospital?""Guess not. But I don't know anything. D'you wanna go there?"Harry nods frantically. "Think they'll let us see him even though we're not – sh@t, did someone tell his mum?""Hey," Niall says, stroking Harry's back soothingly. "Liam said he's on it."Oh god, Liam. Zayn. He hadn't even thought about the rest of their family. He's such an idiot. "Where are they?"Niall hesitates. "I don't actually know. Zayn's disappeared and Liam's running around like a headless chicken, handling the repairs on Jeanne. Per Louis' request, apparently."Sh@t. Harry rubs his eyes. How is he still crying. "That's f@ck@d up, we should help them, we should – ""H, we're dealing our own way. It's been twenty minutes, no one knows anything. As soon as we see what's up with Lou there'll be a press conference and – you know how it works. Let them be until then."Oh god. Press. F@ck's sake, it's the middle of the race still and both the Cowell team members retired. He even feels vaguely guilty. Harry wriggles out of Niall's hold and gets up on shaky legs. Niall doesn't try to help him. "Let's go see him then."Niall nods and leads him away. He doesn't think he's reclaimed his sense of control, but what the f@ck ever. There's no handbook for this. He just wants to see his boy.*There's a second when Louis thinks he's died. Before the medics got there he was absolutely convinced he was dying – everything hurt so much and he couldn't make sense of Harry's words but he was the only reason he'd kept his eyes open, really. But then, at the room they loaded him into, at the very last second before they put him under to treat the pain, he really thought this was it.So waking up, weak but painless in the medical centre, ranks as one of the best moments in his life. He tries to focus on that relief as the doctor gives him the news. Something about the ligaments, something about his hamstring, something about painkillers. The bottom line:A sprained ankle.It's hardly as bad as it could've been, but it means eight to twelve weeks of recovery. It means he's got no shot at the championship. It means there's no guarantee he'll ever be able to race as well as he did. It means he has to tell the doctor to f@ck off so he can cry into his pillow like a little boy. He feels pathetic and miserable, but most of all, an overwhelming loss.This was his shot. He put everything into this. 2013 was supposed to be his, his redemption, his recovery, his big chance. He was f@ck@ng leading. He could taste it. Just looking at the short cast around his ankle makes him feel hollowed out and sick to his stomach. He's still sobbing when he lets the painkillers carry him off to sleep, just so he wouldn't have to look at his leg.When he wakes up again he's in a different room and there's all this sh@t around his bed – get well flowers and candy. He tries to grab one of the cards, utterly confused, when he feels shooting pain down his leg and remembers. "F@ck@ng sh@t," he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut to contain the pain, or to make-believe it never happened."Louis?" he hears a hesitant voice, and his eyes snap open, his heart seizing up. How the hell did he miss Harry's huge frame in the rickety chair by the bed?God. Harry looks bl@@dy awful – face blotchy, eyes red-rimmed, his limbs floppy on the chair like it takes too much out of him to sit properly. Louis feels so much love for him it floods him like a head rush, leaves him dizzy and scattered. He knows that if Harry's a mess, Louis himself must be ten times worse, bruised and broken and crying. He knows that this is when he would have shut him out completely, focus on his own misery and let Harry be.He whispers Harry and throws his arms out weakly. Harry doesn't waste a second before climbing into Louis' bed and gingerly leaning on his shoulder. It smarts, but Louis doesn't care. He's got him. Harry's got him. He doesn't even say anything, just shuts his eyes and absorbs warmth and hope and love from Harry, kisses his hair and wraps an arm around Harry's waist."How bad is it?" Harry asks eventually, cautious and quiet.Louis sighs. "Sprained ankle. Eight to twelve weeks.""God, that's f@ck@ng brilliant."Louis huffs into his hair. "Did you hear what I just said?""Are you..." he trails off. Clears his throat. His voice sounds raw anyway. Louis hugs him tighter. "Have I ever told you why I started racing?"Louis tries to remember. Even if Harry had told him, he wouldn't remember right now, sleepy and fuzzy. "Because you're an idiot?""That too," Harry says, smiling weakly into Louis' neck. "But I. I was in an accident when I was fourteen. Me and my mate Arthur were walking home from school and this drink-driver… I only got a concussion but Art was killed on the spot. I just remember – I remember I've never been so terrified in my life. Until yesterday.""Jesus, Haz." Louis trails his hand up to Harry's hair, aching for his boy. "I'm sorry.""It's… It was a long time ago. And it took me ages to get on the road myself, but once I did I couldn't get off. And it made me feel – sh@tty, it made me feel guilty, liking to drive so much, so I decided to go all in. I wanted to be the best racer so I'd be famous, so people will actually listen to me when I preach about safety. Last year after I did those PSAs for Road Safety GB I got so many letters and emails from parents thanking me, and I realised it meant more to me than any record or win."Louis keeps stroking his hair, breathing him in. Harry's just the best person. "That's amazing, love."Harry shakes his head, then takes the opportunity to kiss Louis' collarbone. "It's really not, it's the least I could do. But my point was, eight to twelve weeks is nothing.""It's six races," Louis blurts, still feeling sorry for himself."Yeah, six sh@tty races and then you're good as new. You've got time until you're sixty, remember?"Louis laughs, actually laughs. It hurts his neck, but he can't stop. "You're so dumb, oh my god."Harry huffs in outrage. "You're dumb, you scared the living sh@t out of me.""Oh." He nuzzles Harry, gets the sense they're not joking anymore. He doesn't know what else to say – sorry wouldn't cut it. It's selfish, and awful, but he feels a fraction better knowing how much Harry cares. Maybe he hasn't lost everything. A thought occurs to him. "You retired because of me.""You're kidding, I could barely stand, I never would've finished the race." He says it offhandedly, but Louis finds himself clinging to every word, curling into Harry's shoulder despite the intense pain all over his body. "There's, like, world coverage of my meltdown.""How's that?""Well, like." He actually sounds embarrassed, it's quite endearing. "I was, um. Losing my sh@t a bit and trying to calm you down. And I didn't think about the team radio picking everything up. Until, like, my mum called me in a panic and asked if I was okay, and I said that you were the one who crashed, and she told me that all the broadcasts played my screaming and calling you sweetheart or whatever." He suddenly raises his head to look Louis in the eye, hesitant and apologetic. "I hope that's, like. Okay."Louis' in a hospital bed with a sprained ankle and a boy who loves him. He could not be less bothered. "What, eternal documentation of you embarrassing yourself over me? I wanna watch it."Harry glares down at him, a hint of a smile on his lips. He settles back down on Louis' shoulder. Heavy and painful and comforting and lovely. "I'm never, ever watching that video. But considering your thing for torturing yourself, I should tell you there's a, well, press conference in your honour right about now. They waited until you were moved from the medical centre to the hospital for observation."Louis considers it. It will be painful and depressing and horrible and so he turns the television on.They tune in just as a reporter asks about Louis' condition. Eleanor is taking the questions in full Cowell uniform. She looks worse for wear, mostly shocked, but she answers swiftly. "Louis suffered a grade two sprain and is now recovering in the medical centre. We're obviously gutted this happened, but he'll be given the best medical care and will make it through this.""Is he expected to return within this season?" another reporter asks. Louis tries to move his leg and hisses in pain. Harry shushes him with a kiss to the ear. It's just. Sh@t, really. It's all just sh@t. Everything but Harry, maybe."We trust our Tommo to make a full recovery, so don't count him out just yet," Eleanor finally says. Diplomatic. Nice. Empty. Depressing."And Harry Styles? Will he throw in the towel next week too?"Harry stiffens next to him. "Oh god, I forgot I was supposed to be there," he whispers. Harry is a failure among men.Eleanor recovers quickly. "As we speak Harry is working hard in the garages to do his best in Korea. Without incident," she adds.Louis and Harry exchange a look. Then laugh. It sounds pathetic and garbled, because nothing is actually funny about this, but it's not as sad as everything else. "That Harry Styles is so diligent. An inspiration to us all," Louis declares."Shut up." Harry pokes him between the ribs, then apologises for ten years when Louis wheezes and squirms in pain. "Maybe I should be at the stupid garage."Louis twists his fingers in Harry's shirt. "No, you're right where you belong. I imagine Zayn would be less abusive though. Did he, um. Come visit?"Harry glances at him nervously. "No. He's sort of been, well. I think he slept in the garage last night? Like proper, round the bend, working himself to death."His heart sinks. F@ck@ng Zayn Malik, blaming himself for Louis crashing their car. It's very like him to get so caught up in his head he didn't even think to visit Louis and talk it out, it makes him sick. "But he knows it wasn't his fault – just 'cause he's the crew chief doesn't mean – like, accidents happen all the time, they just do – ""Lou, I know, trust me. Me and Liam tried to convince him to come, but he just couldn't. I made Niall join him at the garage so at least he won't be alone."Naturally. Louis kisses Harry's cheek, forgetting for a second about his stiff neck. "Liam's here then?""Of course. He's been harassing the paramedics so no one notices I've been holed up here. Or maybe he just needed something to do, I dunno. We were all pretty scared for a while. Niall stayed with us until this morning. He's probably working on Marcel now. Though I'm not sure why." His babbling stops abruptly.Louis mutes the television. "What d'you mean?"Harry sinks lower down his chest so Louis can't see his face. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to get in a car again."His breath stutters. "You have to love, it's what you do. I won't have a loser for a boyfriend."Harry pokes his belly button rudely. "Lou.""I mean it, I." It's been a day since the most terrifying experience of his life; he thinks he's got a handle on things. Harry should definitely listen to him when he tells him to get back on that horse. Louis should definitely be able to just tell the truth. "I don't want you hanging around here while I get my sh@t together. Last time I crashed it took three weeks to recover and I went mental, now it's gonna be a lot longer. It's gonna be ugly.""I can take ugly." Louis can hear the pout in his voice."But I wanna see you race. I want you to win, Haz. For me. I wanna watch you get first place every Sunday I miss."He really means it. The thought that he won't be able to race – right now, not ever, maybe probably hopefully – is eating at him, makes him want to crumple and just disappear inside of Jeanne, stripped or not. The thought that Harry won't do what he loves because of Louis is equally as awful. He can't take this season away from both of them. He could win it through Harry. The boys always say they're becoming one person (well, they use the term creepy horror movie twins, but that's the gist, innit?).Harry thinks for a while. The best he comes up with is, "I love you more than anything. You know that, right?"It's still incomprehensible to him. But he does.He's not fit to fly home for several days. He tells his mum he thinks Cowell will spring for a private jet and a daring escape if he asked, but she shouts at him that she'd sooner come to bl@@dy Singapore than have him suffer a stroke airborne, which is a bit melodramatic for a nurse. Louis cuts her some slack, though, as she did have to watch her eldest child crash his race car on live television.He's pulling through, he thinks. He talks to his doctor with a heavy coat of sarcasm and bitterness. He talks to Liam about practical things. He talks to Simon and Eleanor with false optimism. He talks to Zayn gently but sternly until he cracks him and they just hug for a while. He talks Niall into promising to crutch-duel with him as soon as he's mobile again.Then there's Harry, whom Louis sometimes shouts at to leave (ineffectively) and sometimes just lays his head on to cry. He's just so focused on the pain and his rehabilitation programme and analyses of what happened and the business that it sneaks up on him unexpectedly. The knowledge that he's finished. And then it's a f@ck@ng punch to the gut and he's breathless and achy and Harry doesn't know what to do so he just holds him through it. There isn't anything else Louis would ask him to do. If it weren't for him, Louis wouldn't bother waking up.However, it's a nonnegotiable no when Harry suggests flying home with Louis. "I just want to help," Harry mutters, hurt."None of that," Louis says, crossing his arms. "I've got people for that. You're gonna have the busiest two weeks of your life working on the car and strategising with the poor f@ck who's coming to replace me." It takes a lot of work to say that without cringing. But he is trying to shock Harry into compliance. Because he knows one more pout and he's begging Harry to come home with him and help him through the awful things ahead.Harry probably gets it, he's not cruel. He's still sulking. "You'll call every day?""Yes, dear.""I mean it, you sh@t. You'll call me any time. 'Cause when I'm not with you…"I'm weaker. Louis props himself up on his elbows so he can tug Harry closer and kiss him quiet. "Babe, I know. We'll talk all the time. Eight weeks are nothing."Harry sort of whimpers at the thought. "Love you."It still gets him warm all over. "Love you too. Pack up my stuff.""Already did. Side note, it's full of my shirts. Because of your smell fetish." He looks at Louis in defiance, like he's daring him to mock him. Louis purses his lips."Just like I wanted, then."A smile takes over Harry's face, the first real one in a while. It makes Louis a bit happier. He knows why Harry has hardly left his side since the crash, knows it hit him hard. He hopes the separation will make it easier for Harry to take care of himself, to shake it off. He won't traumatise Harry any further. They both have to pull through."So, in other matters," Harry starts cheerily. "I know you've got a press ban on you, but can I tweet you're okay? 'Cause people have been asking."Louis shrugs. Then narrows his eyes. "Asking me or you?""Um, me."But. "Why are they asking you about me?"Harry looks down at his phone awkwardly. "Remember the epic, well-televised meltdown I had on the circuit?"He shudders. "Vaguely.""And remember the Dream Team thing I showed you a while ago?"Louis rolls his eyes and just grabs Harry's phone. "What are you on ab – oh."There are thousands of tweets in Harry's mentions about Louis, varying from "You absolutely broke my heart. Hope your boy recovers in no time! #DreamTeam #GetWellTommo" to the obligatory "were you actually crying you f@g". Louis gulps, scanning through the supportive ones for a while. It's just Twitter, it's just strangers on the Internet, but they care so much about him, about Harry. His throat feels tight. He's not masochistic enough to check his own mentions."Do it, tweet them back." He hands the phone back to Harry, and waits until he's shown a version for his approval. (x)Louis quirks an eyebrow. "Of all the Twitter handles?"Harry smirks. If it weren't for the dark smudges under his eyes, it could've been a discussion from two weeks ago. "S'funny."This idiot. "Go ahead then."The first time Louis feels remotely normal since spraining his ankle is when he has tea with his mum. It's after the flight from hell, a mild panic attack and some anxiety caused specifically by being away from Harry. He was cranky and miserable and cursing, and then it wasn't Stan greeting him at Manchester Airport, it was his mum. Who immediately wrapped him up in a hug and took over for Alberto and fed him scones.They're at home now, and Louis' very aware of how his mum can't stop touching him – holding his hand, hugging him, brushing his shoulders. She must be working some mum voodoo into him, since he leans into it, feels young and breakable in his stupid cast. Tomorrow they take it off and his early rehabilitation starts. He knows that's the hard part, but right now he'll take any pain if it means he could move his f@ck@ng leg.It doesn't take long for their chat to turn serious. "What's it been like at home?" he asks, wavering.He can already tell from her expression, from her tired eyes and drawn mouth. It hasn't been any better than at the hospital. "Tough." It sounds like she's going to leave it at that, but then she covers her face in her hands and says, "I wasn't watching."He puts his hand on her knee. She's shaking. Jesus, she's already crying. "What?""I was making bl@@dy lunch and lost track of time, I thought it was still noon, and – and then Lottie started screaming like she was being murdered, and I dropped everything, and as soon as I saw her with her laptop I could feel it, I knew something was wrong with you."F@ck@ng hell, Louis can't even move to hug her. He bites down on the pain and inches his chair closer to her, so he could at least wrap his arms around her. "Mum.""I know you're all grown up but you're still my boy, you're still my baby who broke his leg playing footie or falling down bl@@dy trees. You and I, we chat every day but you don't really tell me what you're going through and I never told you..." She's sobbing too hard for Louis to make sense of her."Told me what? Mum?"She reaches for his hand, holds it tight and leads it to her stomach – oh god. "I'm pregnant. More twins."Jesus, that's f@ck@ng brilliant. F@ck his leg. Louis pulls himself forward to give her the biggest hug he can. More sisters. Babies. Louis can't believe it. He can't believe something so good could happen in the middle of something so sh@tty. He's warm with it, breathless and happy. Can't stop looking at her belly. "How far along?""Nine weeks. So. We need you safe, Louis. A lot of people do now."He looks up abruptly at that. There are tear tracks on her cheeks but she's smiling at him delightedly. He bites his lip. Since it's already honesty hour… "Can I tell Harry? He loves babies."There's tense silence for a second, sort of a stare-down, but then she says, "Of course you can, love. Tell him I appreciated the gesture, too."Louis suddenly feels a bit like a baby himself, feels like curling up in her arms. Giving her the power to take his pain and failures away. Then it sinks. "What gesture? You talked to him? Why?"His mum squeezes his hand to shut him up. "You were on the Beeb after what happened, we saw the poor lad. I had to send him a message. So he sent flowers. He's quite darling."Louis' heart flutters. He'll probably never watch that broadcast, is sorry his mum had to, but Harry being sweet is a universal truth. And the sh@th@@d didn't even tell him. "It was that obvious?""Well, it was after I actually saw you two in July. And with everything you've told me about him… It was obvious to me. And if he loves you as much as he showed on that track, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.""Mum," he says for the hundredth time, at a loss. At least he's not crying again. "D'you reckon… maybe I could stay here 'till I'm better? I don't think I'll be too much of a bother, if – ""Yes, of course you're staying here," she cuts him off, kissing his cheek. "We're all here for you. We didn't let the twins watch it, but Fizzy and Lottie could really use you.""Yeah. Yeah, I want to. I need that, I think." There's really nothing else he could be doing.*The first press conference Harry attends happens on a Wednesday, unusually, right after they land in Korea. It's Harry, Lewis and Fernando. He feels out of place, since the other guys actually stood on the podium last week. He knows exactly why he's there, though. Eleanor gave him the briefing, Louis gave him the encouragement. He still doesn't really feel up to it, but they've given him as much time as they could. The crowd needs to know that Cowell isn't bowing out of the championship. If Harry has to bite the bullet and take questions about his public flip-out, so be it.He's kind of shaky when he sits down, but as soon as he actually sees the press he's calmer. He's used to this. There's really nothing he can do at this point. "Hello, how are you guys today?"Shocking no one, 90 percent of the questions are directed at Harry, and 90 percent of those are about Louis and the last GP. "Harry, we've all seen and heard your reaction to Tommo's shunt last week. Do you think it'll affect your racing in this tricky circuit?"At least this Harry can answer confidently. "Not with my biggest competition out. I'm very determined to win."There's a moment of silence, like they expected him to break down in tears again. Natalie regroups the fastest. "So you're gonna take full advantage of Louis' absence?""Definitely." He shrugs. "I know it sounds, like, insensitive, but he told me himself to keep his spot on the podium warm. I'm obviously gutted about what happened, but it did shuffle up everyone's chances at the championship. So, yeah. Louis Tomlinson's rooting for me. I'm gonna try my best.""You're in touch then? How's he doing?"It's exactly the question Eleanor told him to evade. Harry looks straight into the BBC camera, knowing that Louis' watching this. "As amazing as you'd expect of him. The team and the fans have been incredibly supportive of him during these tough times, and I know he appreciates it. He's just jealous he can't be here himself, but that's because he's afraid JJ, his replacement, might outshine him. As I often tell him. I quite like teasing him." There are nine thousand kilometres between them, and he can still hear Louis cackle.He gets his punishment when the next question is asked. "There have been some rumours that the two of you are involved with each other."He tries to keep his face completely neutral. He's probably failing. At least they prepped him for this too. Since he's a sh@tty actor, the game plan is to be as evasive as possible. It shouldn't be too hard, this crowd is more interested in the sport than the gossip. Of course, Louis made the line blur. He looks down at his hands and just says, "Yeah."They give him a second, but when they realise he's not going to add anything, he's asked, "And we all heard you in the broadcast during Louis' crash."Harry tries not to look too pained at the memory. It wasn't just the minutes of the crash for him, it was the days at the hospital, it was trying to console Zayn, it was refusing to fall asleep because he had to keep an eye on Louis, it was trying to go back to training without him. It was talking to him and his mum last night and knowing Louis' happy and trying to absorb some of that feeling, because on the track Harry feels absolutely numb. He can't let any of that show, of course. He tries to paint on a smile. "Yeah, obviously I was very upset. I care about Louis very much a lot."He stops there, feels how he's getting flustered, but the next couple of questions are less needling. At least no one directly asks him if he and Louis are a couple. (That's a lot more forgiving than Twitter.)When the grilling is finally over Harry grabs a ride to the garage and just stays there for a few hours, lets the work and the smell distract him. Zayn and Niall are completely absorbed in the cars, so Harry hangs back with Liam and talks about new strategies."Are you and JJ getting on?" Harry asks, elbowing Liam when he's too caught up in his phone to listen."Yeah, he's alright," Liam answers. "There's a lot of pressure on him, but he'll probably make it."Harry looks around, finds JJ standing with Zayn next to his car in Cowell purple. Zayn's explaining everything patiently and graciously, of course, but Harry can see his heart's not in it. Jeanne still isn't fighting fit, so he's working on a third car they'd flown out. Harry knows he sneaks in here to work on Jeanne during the parties and conferences, though. He knows Zayn still isn't quite alright.The truth is, none of them are. They work a lot harder, and when they hang out they mostly just watch television and eat. They still joke around and bicker, but it's like they're always… waiting. For the loudest voice to pipe up, for Louis to knock Liam over or throw something at Zayn or dance around with Niall. It's just weird for them all to be missing a part.He doesn't tell Louis any of it when they speak, afraid he'd feel bad. He probably knows anyway. They're all still connected. "It would be funny if he does better than Lou, right?" he asks Liam.Liam snickers. "Hilarious. We'll never hear the end of it. Since you'll tease him."Harry smiles at his feet. "You were watching?""Of course, bro." He's surprised by Liam pulling him into a headlock and messing up his hair. G@dd@mn Liam Payne."And? Was I okay?"Liam snorts, still not releasing him. "I dunno, what did Louis say?""I haven't rung him yet? It's still early there."Liam finally lets him go. He's looking at him curiously. "Mate, you know he got up to watch.""Well, I." Harry shrugs profusely. "I wanted to hang with you lot for a bit."Liam smiles at him, not unlike a happy puppy. "Was it weird to be up there without him?""Yeah. Everything is kinda weird." He looks around to make sure no one's listening in. "What if I c@ck up the practices tomorrow? I don't wanna be all talk.""You won't, come on H. You're just the same as you were last week, only you're this f@ck@ng closer to winning this whole thing. I didn't take you for a quitter."It actually works, is the thing. Ever since he calculated the odds and realised his only real threat at the championship is Ferrari, his nerves skyrocketed. If he were the type to let nerves get to him he never would've survived his debut season. It's just – Louis' been such a focal point for him throughout these past seven months. He's trained his eye to look for Jeanne's bright red. It might throw him off. But he's not a quitter. "Thanks, Li.""Sure thing. Maybe just go to the hotel, if you and Paul are set?""Hm. Think Zayn will keep my roommate for long?"Liam smirks at him. "He could be persuaded. I wonder what time it is in England."Harry could kiss him, honestly. The heaviness from the interview is starting to dissipate as he makes his way to the hotel, replaced by butterflies when he finally takes off his clothes and pulls out his laptop.Up? xx he texts Louis while logging in.He gets a reply not one minute later. yeah luv 1 sec xxxxHarry settles down on his bed, fingers jittery on the keyboard. He'd just talked to Louis last night, but he thinks he's having withdrawal symptoms. Going from spending every minute together to thousands of kilometres apart has been hard. The new hotel room doesn't even smell like Louis. It's quite depressing.Harry can see Louis for a second before Louis can see him, which means he catches the moment Louis does. It takes his breath away because Louis' face lights up beautifully, a bright bright smile welcoming Harry. "Hi sweetheart."Sweetheart. Harry chews on his bottom lip. "That's new. Have you been spending too much time with small children and your mum?"Louis rolls his eyes, smile turning cheeky. "Sorry babe. Bro. Dude pal.""I want to kiss you so much." He has lost control of his mouth. Louis touches his finger to the screen, where Harry assumes his mouth is. He mimics the gesture. His heart aches.He has to shake it off. "D'you watch the thing then?"Louis nods. "You did such a good job." It's intended as a simple compliment, but Harry's witnessing the glory that is Louis' face for the first time in a few days and his brain just takes that sentence and runs with it. He preens, a bit hot with the praise. Louis must notice. He must, since he tacks on, "My good boy."Jesus. "Where are you?"Louis makes a show of looking around, lifting his laptop. Harry doesn't even pretend to look at the room Louis' presenting him, since all he really reveals is the fact he's shirtless. "My old bedroom. Well, Lottie's room. She's kipping at Fizzy's to make room for her poor disabled brother, isn't that considerate?""Very…" he trails off, pulling the screen closer to his face. "Babe, can you wave your hands again?"Louis looks at him in confusion but does. He might take the p@ss. Harry has no idea what he's saying, because he's just staring dumbly at Louis' hands. "Haz?" he asks eventually."That's. You're wearing my ring."Louis doesn't look an ounce bashful about it. "You're the one who f@ck@ng packed it."That might be true. "Well you're the one f@ck@ng wearing it.""Well f@ck you."Yes. Harry checks the time. It hadn't been that long. Zayn will probably keep JJ in the garage for at least half an hour. "What's your policy on Skype s@x?""There there, sweetheart." Louis makes a show of putting the laptop on his knees and looking down, lifting his sweats up and peeking down curiously. "Might be up for it."It takes them a while to figure it out. They start by just wanking, but the connection's lagging and Louis' being too much of a tease for Harry's liking. He hasn't gotten off with Louis in two weeks, he should be rewarded, not punished. He's about to whine, or maybe bully Louis into domming for a bit, when Louis slows down and says, "This is weird."It takes Harry a bit longer to slow down his hand, as he was trying to work up a rhythm. "Yeah?"Louis smiles at him apologetically. Maybe Harry's frustrated kitten noise hadn't been as well-concealed as he thought. "Yeah, 'cause like, I can see myself."Harry sees no way in which this is a turn-off. "You've never, like, wanked in front of a mirror?"Louis tightens his fist around his d@ck. Harry considers that a good sign. "Harold."Harry shrugs, starts stroking himself leisurely. He catches Louis' eyes following the movement and hitches his hips up so it's more obvious for the camera. "When you've got it…" he mumbles, getting worked up.Louis hisses in a breath and shakes his head. "Maybe I could disable it if – ""Lou, you're f@ck@ng gorgeous, just look at yourself and enjoy it."Louis makes a face, but he does place the laptop next to him rather than on top of him, so Harry gets a nice profile of his abs working as he starts to stroke himself again. He's so focused on Louis' c@ck that he misses the hesitant look Louis' giving the camera. Until he says, "This okay?"A huge bell starts ringing in Harry's head. Louis wouldn't normally ask that, not this… vulnerably. He risks it and lowers the laptop lid so that Louis can only see from his chest down. "D'you want me to tell you?" he asks in a steady, deep voice."What?" Louis asks. He's got a nice flush spreading over his face, down his neck."Where to look at. What makes you beautiful."Louis bites his lip, his eyes darting from himself to Harry on the laptop screen. "That's very cheesy."Harry snorts. Louis' absolutely not fooling him, not with a front row seat to his flushed, hard c@ck. "Right, sweetheart. Play with your nipples, that always gets you."For a second Louis freezes, holding himself so tight like he really needs to consider this switch between them, but then he does just as Harry said. He looks f@ck@ng relieved, staring at his own image tweaking his nipples, his c@ck twitching in his dainty hand."That's right," Harry ventures. It takes a lot of self-control to put both of his hands on the bed, because at this rate he'll be tugging himself roughly and coming in minutes. It also gives Louis an uninterrupted visual of his c@ck, hard and heavy on his stomach. There are beads of pre-come gathered at the tip already. "Look at what you do to me."Louis only makes a small sound and squeezes his nipple, his hips bucking up slightly. Christ, he's hot. By the time Harry's got him fingering himself, Louis' totally making a show of it, biting his lip coyly and throwing his head back to bare his neck to him. "This is rather s@xy, I suppose," Louis comments, voice high and breathless.He's bearing down on his fingers, got this blissed-out look on his face, visible even through the computer screen. There's little Louis likes more than getting f@ng@rf@ck@d (mainly: f@ng@rf@ck@ng Harry), and Harry's own hands are jittery, he wants to be inside Louis so much. "Thinking about me?" he asks, voice rougher than intended.Louis nods weakly, eyes still fixed on the screen. "Not your c@ck, though. Your fingers. Wanna – oh – wanna come from them, wanna come all over you, Harry."Harry can't hold himself back anymore. His hand flies to his c@ck and he grips it tight and sure, pumping fast. "I'd have you on my chest right now, slamming three fingers into you till you're shooting on my face.""F@ck," Louis whispers, his pretty eyes snapping shut."Your other hand," Harry asks, his eye caught on Louis' left hand, tangled in the sheets. His ring finger. His ring. He knows it's not Louis' good hand but they're both close enough that it doesn't really matter. So he won't be able to play FIFA for the next two hours, whatever.Louis doesn't ask why, which is surprising, and doesn't take out the fingers already in him before adding his left ring finger, which is mind-melting. Harry can't actually see his ring meeting Louis' rim, but he can d@mn well hear Louis' pretty moan. He comes with a grunt, caught in Louis' hungry eyes.He honestly doesn't know if Louis comes from watching Harry or watching himself. He's quite pleased about that. What he does know is that he's absolutely knackered, the seven-hour flight getting to him. He wipes down and considers signing off, but then he looks at his laptop and sees Louis still watching him with open interest and affection. "D'you want a lullaby?" Louis asks.So he's staying. Alright. Harry puts the laptop next to his pillow and lies down on his side. It's the most horrifically sappy thing he's ever done. He can't bring himself to rethink it, though, not when he feels so settled and safe and sex-sleepy. Louis' basically cooing at him. He'd probably be taking screenshots if it weren't for the part of the screen where Louis' naked and dirty with come on his little sister's bed. "Excited for tomorrow?" he asks quietly."Not really," Harry answers through a yawn. "Miss you. Don't know how it's gonna go.""Well, it's just the first two practices. And you're gonna do great without me. Look how well you just did without me."Harry smiles widely at him. "Doubt I could do that in front of the press.""Well," Louis tuts. "You'll still f@ck everyone up. I've got your back, just like you said in the interview today."Harry nuzzles into his pillow, like he would Louis' chest or tummy right now. "What more do I need than my doting partner?"Louis hesitates, and Harry's sleepy brain suddenly catches up to what he said. Big word. Whatever, Louis just f@ck@d himself with Harry's ring on. They're already pretty big.Louis kisses his left wrist, right on the pulse point, his tattoo. The big light. Harry's eyes close happily. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll watch you tomorrow. You're gonna do great."Harry's pretty much out of it, says goodbye with a mumbled "love you when you're sixty" and shuts down the laptop. It's probably unhealthy, but he keeps it in bed when he finally falls asleep. For the first time since the crash, he really believes he's going to do great.*Louis wakes up bright and early on race day. For a moment he forgets that he's not the one racing. He's dreamt of the Korean track, and his heart's pounding and he's about to ask Harry if he's okay, when it rushes back. He looks at his leg with utter contempt. "Traitor," he spits.He checks his phone to see what time it is, and finds six new texts from Harry, along with thirty in their group. He opens the ones from Harry, still bleary-eyed.
  Harry Styles Harold H Haz Hazza<3:

  where's my race morning bj :(

  I forgot to ask you how your appntmnt with your gp went!

  hope it went well xx

  send pics of you in spin class

  no srsly do your squats

  love you it's okay if you don't wake up in time!
Louis finally checks. Christ, it's half six in the morning. He gives himself five more minutes to nap, then rolls to his side slowly. One foot after the other. Bed to floor. Sitting to standing. His mum said he should give up the crutches as soon as the pain allowed him to put some pressure on his foot. No one told him how much pain is too much pain, though, so he just grits his teeth and bears through it.He sticks to the wall as he putters to the kitchen to make a cuppa. The race is on three pm Korean time, so seven am UK time. Harry's at the pit lane right now and away from his phone, so it doesn't really matter that Louis hasn't texted him back yet. He honestly thinks he's got nothing to worry about – qualifying was tough, as everyone wanted to use the advantage Louis' provided, but Harry came out on top and won the pole position. It's a good sign, Louis thinks.He wraps his hands around his mug, wonders vaguely if Harry's cold or hot. He'd really rather just sit on the table until he finishes his tea, but he should probably find a livestream before he gets too comfortable. The fact that he wants to chop off his foot is irrelevant.He grips his mug tight and hops on his good leg, sort of dragging himself back to the bedroom. Something stops him on the way, though. There's music wafting through the hall. That's all Louis needs, really, to be in a horror film. He can't exactly run from creepy music with his sprained f@ck@ng ankle, can he?Slowly, he starts moving again, clinging to the wall. The music gets louder as he goes, until he realises it's coming from Fizzy's room. Maybe they fell asleep with the computer still on. He hesitates for a second before knocking gently."What the f@ck?"Maybe not. "Language," he admonishes before even opening the door. Once he's standing in the room and sees both his sisters absorbed in their computers, he realises they didn't wake up freakishly early, they're still up freakishly late.They look sleepy and p@ss@d off and Louis loves them to bits. "What are you doing up?" he asks, crossing his arms, like he actually cares."What d'you want?" Lottie asks, tugging on her earphones impatiently. Like she even used them, Louis can hear the music.He's about to snap something back, but there's just no time, really. He c@cks his hip when an idea comes to him. "Just checking if you wanted to watch the race with me."Lottie looks shifty enough that Louis takes the two steps separating him from her mattress and catches sight of her laptop screen. It's the Korean track, live on Sky Sports F1. Louis' absolutely delighted. "So you started without me?""Thought you were asleep," Lottie murmurs."Thought you'd be – not willing to watch after what happened last time," Louis admits.Fizzy huffs. "Oh, I am. Hence the loud music. I'm very traumatised.""Well, maybe I could help with that?" he suggests. "Just because I messed up doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy the best sport in the world." The more he thinks about it, the more he fancies the idea of educating his sisters live about his job.Lottie's still considering it. "Will I have to get up?"Instead of answering, Louis collapses next to her on the mattress. She rolls her eyes and sets the laptop between them. Fizzy's sixteen now, and therefore far too cool to snuggle up with them, but she does stop the music and peeks at them every so often.Lottie unplugs her earphones and resumes the streaming. Ten minutes until take-off, the press is leaving the pit lane. Louis feels extremely weird just sitting around watching a Grand Prix. It's the first one he hasn't participated in since his shunt early last year. There's still the thrill, though, watching the cars line up, the warm-up lap. He can feel how fast they're going, like he's connected to the noise somehow. It gets his heart pumping without even being on the track.Finally, the race is ten seconds from starting, and he and Lottie hold their breaths. "Hey, is that your tattoo?" Fizzy asks, cutting the tension and pointing at the starting lights."Yeah, that's – oh there he goes!" Harry flies off from pole position, makes it through the first corner without a hitch."Styles isn't bothered by Alonso nipping at his heels as the Korean Grand Prix takes off," David Croft starts. "Grosjean seems to be taking the fight to the Cowell man by passing Lewis Hamilton’s Mercedes on the opening lap. He's holding him off so far, but Turn 3 just might send him spinning.""That's a load of b@llsh@t, anyone with eyes can see the Cowell car's perfect for straight-line speed and traction," Louis tells the computer."Whoa," Lottie says, mocking. "Tone down the commentary, Lou.""I'd be a brilliant commentator." It's actually interesting for Louis to watch the action from here. From first place, you can't see the bl@@dy battle for fourth. That's what made him completely miss out on Harry Styles from 2010 to 2012. He's learning that it's a d@mn shame, because Harry's a top-notch racer. He's careful with his right-front tyre, calculated and clever when he turns, and doesn't get distracted by the mayhem behind him. And Louis' so, so proud of him. Of course Turn 3 doesn't send him spinning. "See? I called it right.""Ugh, whatever," Lottie says, sounding bored. "Who are we rooting for again?""Harry, obviously." He has to resist the urge to tap her nose."Who's got the most points?" Fizzy asks from her bed."Me still, but the margin is – " Lottie pokes him. Louis clears his throat. "So I was leading before the accident, yeah?" Fizzy nods at him, rolling her eyes like she doesn't appreciate Louis dumbing down his stat talk for her. "But since I won't win points for the next few weeks, the other racers are both trying to catch up to me and beat each other. So right now there's no clear lead. It would've been Harry, actually, if he'd finished the last race after I… Anyway, that means they're racing harder than ever, and that the margins between them are smaller. It's quite interesting, really, since usually the champion is declared as early as the Indian GP, but now it might even drag on to the US race.""You're quite calm about watching from the sidelines," Lottie points out, blunt as ever.Louis is – surprised to find that she's absolutely right. He's not wracked with jealousy or pain, not to the level that he'd expected. Of course it stings that he's not leading the charge out there, but he's sort of numb to it, like somewhere deep inside him he's already accepted it. "Just trying to make the best of it, bug.""Well, are you gonna go back?" Fizzy asks, losing all pretence that she's not involved in this. She's hanging half-off her bed to watch the screen.Louis cracks his knuckles. Right now, being back on the track sounds… daunting, in a shocking way. He tries to focus on the race in front of him. "Well, when I'm back on my feet, so to speak. But I won't win. So now I'm hoping Hazza does.""Why? Isn't he your direct competition?"Before he manages to think of a vague answer, Lottie reaches over to smack Fizzy upside the head. Fizzy curses her out while Louis just stares at her with furrowed eyebrows. And Lottie bl@@dy winks at him. He wonders what on Earth their mum has been telling her. He should definitely talk to her about it later.They're all distracted from the conversation by Sergio Perez’s McLaren throwing the tread off its right-front Pirelli tyre on the 31st lap, sending safety-cars into action to clear up the debris. Lottie's breath hitches and her hand clamps unconsciously on Louis' arm. He wants to ask her if she's alright, when he remembers the last time she'd seen a safety car it was scraping her brother out of gravel.He wraps an arm around her shoulders, not giving her the chance to shake him off. It wasn't just a joke to Fizzy, was it? What if she really was traumatised? How is Louis ever supposed to forgive himself? Christ, he could have f@ck@ng gone into a coma or been killed and he never would have… patched things up. Known about the babies on the way.He's never faced this crippling feeling. The risks have never threatened to outweigh the benefits. There's a crisis brewing inside him. He holds his sister tighter and talks, talks about the process and the race and the cars, talks loudly to compensate for the emptiness he's suddenly feeling.To his amazement, they stay awake for the hour and forty minutes it takes for Harry to finish the 55th lap. They even cheer right along with Louis, so loud their mum bursts into the room in her robe, pure alarm on her face. Louis' hit with another wave of guilt, for his mum who had to watch it on the news, for his sister who had to watch it live. They were all wounded that day.She does a headcount, and the fear in her face makes way for exasperation. "Why are you making a ruckus on Sunday morning?"Louis can't stop grinning. "Harry won.""Oh, that's lovely," she says, genuinely happy for him. For them. Louis is so happy he could burst. "Should that give you a free pass?"Oh please. "I'm your invalid eldest son, snuggled up with two of his adoring sisters, who woke up early just for this by the way, to watch the most important thing in his life. I am a free pass."His mum looks at each of her smiling children in consideration, and then just seems to give up. "Alright then. Why don't we make some breakfast and you give me the rundown?""For your own safety don't ask him that, he's been commentating the entire race, it was exhausting," Lottie says, yawning for effect. Or just because she was up all night. Anyway, she's still tucked into Louis' side, so he doesn't take her seriously."I'll have you know I was witty, hilarious, clever and on-point.""Whatever. Mum, I think we should just go to – back to sleep," Fizzy says, and just flops over to face the wall quite rudely. Teenagers."I'll take you up on that," Louis offers. He gives Lottie one last hug while she's sleepy and vulnerable to shows of affection, and then hobbles off the bed. His mum immediately leaps to help him stand and reach the door. "See you guys in a few hours," he says. The girls don't respond, probably already asleep.In the kitchen, literally every question his mum asks results in a raving review of Harry in action. That includes "how many toasts?" and "when is your appointment?". Eventually she just gives up and lets him talk about Harry's win and what it means. She doesn't even reprimand him for turning on the telly in search of the press conference while they're eating."And Lottie knew what 235 points meant to him. He's such a star." Louis is being stupidly proud, or proudly stupid.His mum pats his shoulder. "It was really sweet of you to include them. Even if they did stay up about seven hours past their bedtime."Louis smiles bashfully. Of course she knew. She's a mum. "It was sweet of them to join me, really. I don't think I realised – like. That I've never actually done it before? Really told them about racing and my life and me. It's rubbish, innit?" It's just been so long since he's been home, he got so afraid his sisters would feel more like his fans than his siblings, and then that thought made him panic so he just didn't visit at all. So he wouldn't be able to confirm or deny his theory.His mum must be touched, as she kisses his forehead and doesn't comment on how long his hair has become. "Better now than never," she says, touching her own belly discreetly. Louis feels inexplicably warm.Finally the racers pile into the room, Harry wearing a smile that could be seen from space. He sits in the middle and pours water for all three of them, making eye contact with everyone in the room. He's sweaty and giddy and Louis is trying very hard not to let his thoughts derail."Man of the hour" is the first thing he's called by the reporters, and Louis wholeheartedly agrees. The race was action-packed and Harry shined and should be recognised for it. He's visibly excited when he answers questions, bolstered by his own performance. He's charming and kind and on-point, actually a lot louder than he would have been if Louis were there. He doesn't know if it's born of being uncomfortable or not, but Harry's trying his hardest to be entertaining.Louis has to hop on one foot to get closer to the telly, because he thinks he's just – oh god, Harry's wearing the Sziget wristband under his sleeve. He probably raced with it. "Loser," Louis hisses to the television.And then Harry starts talking about him. Like, he uses every meagre opportunity to gush about his "talented teammate", be it how honoured he is to take Louis' place on top or how his workout routine has suffered in Louis' absence. Actual words that came out of his actual mouth. If they were keeping innuendo scores, Harry might be leading right now."He's off the rails," he tells his mum, secretly pleased. "This is absolutely embarrassing."His mum tuts and stuffs toast in her mouth. It's not the most dignified way to drop the bomb that will change the course of Louis' entire life."You sound like you miss him more than you miss racing."Louis scoffs immediately and dismisses that. "Trust me, there's nothing..." He trails off, protest unfinished, when Harry smiles wide at the camera and plays with his wristband. It takes him a moment to remember what she said, and then he chokes on his tongue.There's no need to protest. She might be right. She might be right. It's like this whole process Louis' undergone even before the crash, even before the wedding, is finally coming to a head. With this dawning realisation.The thing he felt when he watched the race wasn't longing for the track, it was longing for Harry.His. His priorities are f@ck@d now. Oh god, it's like he's flashing back to easy conversations with Harry about their future, to his sister asking him when he's coming back, to ducking Eleanor's calls, to pushing himself only as much as his doctor advised and not killing himself over a chance to finish the season with a bang."Love? You're white as a sheet, what's wrong?" his mum asks, suddenly concerned."I'm. I need to make a call." Louis stands up, curses in pain, and then staggers to find his phone. He doesn't want to stew in this. He's been stewing for two weeks. He's been stewing for a year before that. His heart's beating so hard he can't even think.When Zayn finally picks up he sounds cheerful, in complete contrast to how Louis wants him to sound. "Babes, did you call the wrong number?""What?" Louis spits, confused for a second."Aren't you gonna call your boy to congratulate him?"His heart pangs. His boy. "Zayn, what if I don't come back?""If what?" Zayn asks, crisp and serious all of a sudden. The noise around him dims, like he moved to a quieter part of the garage. Jesus, he sort of won a race an hour ago, he shouldn't even be talking to him. "Lou, you told me the doctor said you were doing well beyond his expectations, you'll be back in no time.""No, I mean." Christ, he wants to cry. He doesn't know how to piece it together. "What if I don't want to?" He hates how breathless he sounds, panicky and real. "Not because I'm afraid of racing again, but because I just – oh god."It takes Zayn a minute to come up with the perfect answer, because he's Zayn and he's perfect. "Babe, calm down. It's not the end of the f@ck@ng world. You're not nineteen anymore, it's okay to consider new things. If your heart's not in it you shouldn't be in a car. Unless you're waiting for something worse than an ankle sprain?"He's still hyperventilating, but Zayn is making some sense. "What do I even do?""Yo, listen, the first thing you do is get better. Your health is more important than any of this. And use the time to just think. You're not committing to anything yet. Even if you do decide to retire – " Louis cringes at the word. "You can start by taking just a season off. To try something else."Well. That doesn't sound so bad. He manages to get his breathing right, but his stomach is still turning. "I'm so stressed out, Zayner.""I can tell. Have you mentioned any of this to H?"Sh@t, he's got to call Harry. But what would he even tell him? Hey, I've got this weird feeling and I don't know what I'm going to do with it yet but you should be aware? "No, I. It's his big day.""And what's the real reason?"Louis glares at his phone. Zayn has no respect for his epiphany. "I can't tell him yet because I don't know what it means yet.""What?""Like." Louis squeezes his eyes shut. "If I take a year off like you said, what's that gonna mean for us?"Zayn's got a quick answer for that too, bless him. "Lou, I can hardly imagine you sitting on your @rs@ in England for twelve months. There's gotta be options. You already know the right people."It's there. There already is a solution, he just hasn't found it yet. He sighs into the phone, and Zayn chuckles affectionately. "Can't believe we're actually talking about you retiring, Tommo.""Me neither, mate. It's like everything's different now.""Better though?"And that's the catch, isn't it. Louis doesn't have to look very far to find the honest answer. Harry's still babbling on his television screen. "Infinitely.""I sort of figured that. Like, after last year, or maybe always, I dunno, I thought… Can I just say it?""Zayn, I'm having an existential crisis, any reassurance could help.""Well, I thought you... I thought your reason for racing was to… prove something. Like, you know that Marina and the Diamonds song where she says she thinks she's the worst so she acts like she's the best?"Louis actually bursts out laughing mid-crisis. "Zayn, I said reassurance, are you high?""Pr@ck. All I'm saying is that you were gonna burn out sooner or later if you kept with that attitude. And things really are different for you now, with Harry and your family and having nearly gotten yourself killed two weeks ago. You're less inclined to risk everything. Because you've actually got something to risk."Louis blinks at his hand for a while, noticing the ring distractedly. "That's f@ck@ng deep, bro.""Oi, it's why you rang me and not Liam or Niall, don't pretend."He huffs. But Zayn's right, of course. If there's anything he's good for, it's soulful advice. Well, not really, he's good for pretty much anything, but the soulful advice is a good trait. He actually feels a bit calmer. He just needed a plan, a direction. He hates feeling lost and helpless. "I love you.""Love you too. Miss you loads."Louis clucks at his phone. "You'll retire with me, yeah? I jump you jump.""Sure, we'll have a double wedding.""That'll be f@ck@ng amazing, actually. You and Pez, me and Liam, Harry and Niall. Then we'll all be a family."Zayn snorts attractively. "Just don't tell Hazza, he'll start banging on about a group baby."Hm. They could just wait for Perrie, or maybe steal one of his mum's offsprings. Maybe they should start with a group cat first, though. "We're really unrecognised geniuses, mate.""True. Feel better?"He shrugs to himself. "Sort of. Freaks me out to think about it.""Well, you know what you could do if you're retired."Oh. Oh. He's got a feeling Zayn isn't talking about shaving off all his hair and moving to Rio. "I can't decide that for Harry."Zayn pauses, maybe in shock. "That lad is gagging to come out for you, are you kidding? He bought fireworks for when he's shouting it from the rooftops. He's got sky-writing planned. His homepage is Queers4Gears.com."Louis shakes his head. Coming out of the closet feels even more foreign than not racing. Completely unrealistic. Just like the flicker of excitement that's just sparked up somewhere in his chest. "Yeah, but. Give me Liam."Liam answers even quicker than Louis' thought. He can see them, huddled in the corner of the garage and fighting for the phone because he called. It's adorable.Liam agrees with Zayn, surprisingly. He thinks that if Louis' out for the count it's gonna be practically easy for Harry to come out, since it's just one racer and not two team members b@mf@cking each other. He also sounds pretty confident Harry won't be fired, since he's their frontman and everyone's looking to him for the title. Whatever happens when Harry comes out, it's gonna be bad press just to sack him.Louis' getting that feeling again, his chest clenching, his head light. He needs to stop thinking about it. "I'm gonna call Harry now, he's probably done with the press things. How brilliant was he out there?""Just go call him," Liam snaps."I love you," Zayn shouts at the phone just before Liam hangs up on Louis. So that happens.Just before calling, Louis makes sure to tweet him.
  
    
  
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*The Japanese Grand Prix is just a week after the Korean one, and Harry doesn't really mind losing to Ferrari because 1) it makes things interesting, and 2) he's already booked his flight to London. For the first time, he's actually excited for a twelve-hour flight. Even the eight-hour flight from London to New Delhi isn't looming. Nothing is looming but the swelling of Harry's heart when he thinks about seeing Louis again. (It's bad enough that he's thinking in horrible metaphors. Similes? Zayn would know. It's been three long, stressful weeks. He's allowed to be prolific and sappy. He's practically dancing around his room, startling JJ and making Niall laugh.)The plan has been in motion since the moment Louis left, basically. He knew he couldn't come visit before the Korean round, and there wasn't enough time between that and the next one to schedule a visit. There was also the issue of not telling Louis. He just mentioned it when Louis called to talk about the race, and Louis stopped breathing for thirty seconds before yelling, "You're what?""Checking up on you, to make sure you're not slacking off. Or slagging off. I'm a jealous man, me." He couldn't wipe the smile off his face."Oh god, Harold, shut up and explain."Harry paused until Louis cursed. "I'll fly in on Tuesday and fly out the next Tuesday.""But. I told you not to. While I work this out.""Yeah, and I didn't listen. I can hear you smiling, Lou, it's doing nothing to change my mind."Louis actually giggled, it was hilarious. "But I've got things. Appointments. Meetings.""What meetings would – " No, he wasn't going to let Louis distract him. "Then I'll hang out with your mum and talk about babies. Or your sisters. Like, hang with your sisters, not talk about your sisters.""You'd wanna – okay, just get here, I need to kiss you."Harry heard distant cries of ewww, which suggested Louis wasn't alone, which made Harry's throat clench because it had only been a day since Louis told his family about them. Louis being comfortable with himself is one of Harry's top five concerns/goals.His stomach is knotted so tight Harry can't breathe properly when he's finally parked outside of Louis' home. He wonders if this is how Louis felt coming to a stranger's wedding. He's fiddling with his duffle bag aimlessly. It's stupid, he's expected here, it's completely reasonable for him to show up, but he still feels a bit out of place.Finally his excitement to see Louis overwhelms his nerves. He rings the doorbell, cringing when he can hear it from inside loudly. It's only 10 AM. He should have just rung Louis or –The door opens. Harry's jaw drops.It's Louis. It's actually Louis, and he looks infinitely better than he had when Harry'd last seen him at the hospital. His beard is trimmed neatly and his hair is swooping over his forehead and the corners of his eyes are crinkly with joy. Most importantly: he's standing on his own two feet. His left leg is compensating, and he's leaning on the doorway in what appears to be a casual manner but Harry knows is a necessity, but he's okay and happy and bl@@dy gorgeous.Harry doesn't manage to say anything, so he just gathers Louis in his arms and gives him the fiercest hug in history."Jesus, Haz," Louis croaks, but he wraps his arms tightly around Harry's waist. Harry even notices him sniffing his shirt. Strange as usual, especially considering Louis' definitely wearing a shirt of Harry's, but he hardly minds if it means Louis' face is anywhere near his person.It makes it especially easy to look down and capture Louis' lips in a soft kiss, lingering and relieved. He loves how well Louis fits against him. He loves his mouth. He loves his face. He missed him so much he's shivering."Wanna come inside?" Louis whispers into his mouth.Harry kisses him twice before kissing him again and then saying, "Happily."It takes them another two minutes to make it past the threshold, busy kissing and hugging and sniffing each other, murmuring sweet things like "I love you", "I missed you", "No one's home, I need your c@ck in me ten minutes ago". Louis' precious like that.Harry can't stand to see him hobbling around, so he lifts him easily, smiling when Louis curls around him automatically. His b@m leg hangs limply by Harry's side, but he doesn't complain. Harry kisses him harder, grabs his @rs@ for fun rather than comfort, and Louis moans into his mouth.He slows everything down when he undresses Louis, unwrapping him like an early Christmas gift and kissing him all over. He lays Louis down on his side gently, stuffs a pillow under his injured ankle so it stays elevated, and fits himself behind him. He runs adoring hands over his flanks and back, sucks a bruise on the crook of his neck. Louis' sweating already, keeps trying to shove Harry's hands down, but he's having none of it.He's gentle when he f@cks him, too. The position doesn't allow him any room, but he doesn't need it right now. He wants to f@ck Louis slow and deep and close, wants to wrap his arm around Louis' chest so they're plastered to each other, so the only thing he has to move is his hips, rocking into Louis again and again, small whimpers escaping Louis' reddened lips with no respite."F@ck," Louis breathes, fingers clenching around Harry's bicep. He looks over his shoulder and his eyes are glassy, cheeks pink. Harry pushes up to kiss his pouty lips, licking into his mouth without stopping the rhythm of his hips.He can't remember the last time they went for a good, long f@ck, but it fits now, it fits because Louis' sweaty and shivery and incoherent, it fits because Harry's so close to him he can't remember a time they weren't like this. He's leaving fingerprints on Louis' hip, lovebites anywhere he can reach. Pushes in in in. Louis' quieter than usual, just gasps every time Harry bottoms out, little desperate sounds.At some point it's just unbearable, Louis' wiggling too much and Harry thinks he's about to pass out. He finally wraps a hand around Louis' cock, preparing to draw that out too, but Louis comes as soon as Harry touches him. He folds in on himself, wrecked and shuddering, just barely thumping on Harry's arm to let him know he can keep going.It doesn't take him long from there. He's got just enough presence of mind to pull out and tie off the condom, but as soon as he does he just reattaches himself to Louis' back and cuddles him in, careful not to jostle his leg. He's sure there are words to say, something loving and poetic about how amazing that was, but he falls asleep before he can get them out.Louis' playing with his hair when he wakes up. He's sprawled on Harry's chest and smiling sweetly at him. Harry feels bathed in light with the blinds drawn shut. "Morning love. Well, afternoon.""After – wait." He lifts up to kiss Louis. Right. "Afternoon? How long was I out for?"Louis kisses him back. "Few hours. I guess the flight was knackering.""Hours? Oh my god. Your bum's to blame." He smacks it without thinking, just brings his heavy hand down on God's finest creation, and Louis' fingers tighten for a second on his collarbones before he laughs it off."None of that now. You need to get yourself sorted. I reckon my mum would like to meet the boy I've kept in my room."Harry hums. He's not nervous at all. Any and all negative feelings and concerns have evaporated while he was f@ck@ng Louis' brains out. He could meet Barack Obama right now and be cool as a cucumber. He could meet Michelle Obama right now and be cool as a cucumber. "Maybe if I could get up that'll help?" he hints.Louis pretends to consider it, tilting his head from left to right and then zeroing in to kiss Harry again, deeply this time. Harry wraps his arms around the small of Louis' back, hugging him close. "Five more minutes?" he whispers hopefully."Four. And don't leave marks.""Deal." He dives right back in, swallows Louis' giggle. He definitely doesn't mention the numerous lovebites already decorating Louis' neck. He thrives on awkwardness, it breeds the best jokes.So it's just as awkward as he'd imagined. Louis looks hopelessly f@ck@d out, and Harry doesn't think he's faring much better. They should've just done breakfast tomorrow instead of dinner tonight, but the truth is Harry has made plans to ride Louis into the mattress tomorrow morning, so there's no guarantee that that would've been better.Anyway, it's dinner with Jay, Dan and the older sisters, Lottie and Fizzy, since the younger ones are at a sleepover. Harry has to formally introduce himself to Dan and Fizzy, as he'd already met Lottie at Silverstone and has been chatting with Jay fairly regularly since the crash. She's been pretty lovely to him. He keeps thinking back to what Louis' told him about her, but maybe she's come around. Maybe watching one's son nearly die on a racetrack does that to you. It might also help that they're obviously in love. Harry doesn't know, he's not a dad. Yet.They settle down with some pasta and nobody talks for like, two minutes. Harry and Louis are sitting next to each other and just fidgeting. These are people that had three days to digest that Louis' gay before having to host his committed partner for a week. Harry gets how that might be troubling.It's Jay who breaks the ice, bless her. "So Japan was interesting. We all watched it live on the Beeb."Louis looks like he's about to answer, but Harry goes for it. "Yeah, it was a very tactical race. It was all about timing the pit stops, really. My strategy was with three stops, and it looked good when I swapped to Pirelli’s medium tyres for the last stint with 11 laps to go. But then – " He looks around, bemused. "Wait, this isn't a press conference."Fizzy laughs politely. "We heard it all from Lou anyway."Harry smiles at that, sneaking a hand to tangle his and Louis' fingers together under the table. Maybe not so sneaky, as Lottie says, "Can I just ask something? Were you together when I met you?"Harry bites his lip. He goes with the easy answer. "Yeah."She smacks her own forehead. "Unbelievable. My gaydar's for sh@t."Harry laughs so suddenly and loudly it drowns out Jay's admonishment and Dan's uncomfortable grunt. Lottie's smirking at him with glittering eyes. Harry can definitely see the resemblance to her brother. "Louis told me you knew before he told you, though."Lottie rolls her eyes, but she does puff up a bit, like Harry's given her a compliment. "Obviously."Louis leans in to mock-whisper conspiratorially, "She hangs with the Dream Team people.""Oh my god Tommo, shut up," she hisses while Harry laughs again. "They're called Teammates," she adds quietly.He's quite charmed throughout the whole thing. Even Dan seems to warm up to him the tiniest bit, when Harry expresses open enthusiasm about Jay's pregnancy. After pudding they all retire to their rooms, not before Lottie grabs Louis for a Very Serious Private Bollocking regarding B@gg@ry In Other People's Rooms.Louis just kisses her forehead patronisingly and grabs Harry's arm for help as they make their way to their allotted bedroom. "I've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow at around noon. You could, um, come with if you want," Louis suggests while they're getting changed."Of course, I'll – hey," he starts laughing again when he looks from Louis to himself and notices that they're wearing each other's clothes. Louis just shrugs and tugs the collar of Harry's T-shirt up to cover his mouth and nose, staring at Harry. Who kisses him over the fabric. "I'd love to come with you.""Cool. Then maybe we could hang out? Like, outside. I've been cooped up here for way too long.""Whatever you want." He kisses him one more time and then flops on the bed, grogginess catching up to him.Louis' GP seems surprised to see that Harry's there, but he doesn't comment on it. He declares that Louis' well into his middle stage rehabilitation and could start with functional rehabilitation exercises. Louis was probably expecting him to say he's fit to run a marathon, but all the doctor says is walk in a straight line for a few steps.He's so bummed about it, he's just looking at his ankle dejectedly. "Guess we can't hang out outside today.""What are you talking about? We're gonna tour all of Donny." Louis looks at him with confusion, so Harry holds out his hand and turns around so his back is facing him. "Hop on.""Harold, don't be ridiculous." But his stern voice is wavering, his pout giving way to a mischievous smile."C'mon. Let's get some ice cream in you.""Sold."It's odd for a few days. Since hopping on Harry's back, Louis sort of hasn't gotten off. Metaphorically. He's being 800 percent more affectionate and careless in public, suggesting Harry take him to the stadium and the chip shop and the music shop and the movies. Harry's up for anything, of course, but he's not used to Louis hanging off him in front of random people.He writes it off as injury stuff, as Louis literally needing support lest he'll fall over. Well, actually, he just doesn't think about it a lot. It feels kind of normal, like it should be, walking around town with his boyfriend, going on dates and having dinner with his family.The only difference between them and a normal couple is the occasional fan that will stop them for a chat. And the only difference between now and a month ago is that Louis actually agrees to take a picture, all three of them. Harry knows there's already solid evidence online that he's in Doncaster, he knows they're stirring sh@t up. But if Louis doesn't care, Harry's not going to kick up a fuss. He wouldn't even have mentioned it at all, had Twitter not come into play."What are you doing?" Harry asks, vaguely worried but mostly lulled to sleep by Louis' clever fingers in his hair. They're snuggled together and watching a film Harry can't, for the life of him, remember the name of. He's mostly been listening to Louis voicing his opinions at an uncaring screen."Giving you Miley hair," Louis explains, before tugging half of Harry's hair in a tight bun. He tries not to purr. He's not actually a cat."Am I gonna be grinding on you in latex?" he wonders out loud.He's not imagining Louis tugging the other bun extra hard. "If you're good."He pouts. "I was promised that about playing doctor.""Mocking your hurt boyfriend's injury does not make you good," Louis insists, leaning back to inspect his work.Harry would very much like to disagree, but he's suddenly blinded by the flash on Louis' phone. "You are not sending it to my sister," is the first thing he manages to say after Louis saves the picture.Louis smirks devilishly. "Only Twitter."Oh god. Wait, never mind the humiliation. Twitter will definitely know he's come to visit. "Are you sure?""Of course, the more publicly you're shamed the better.""I mean." He's trying to inflect a serious tone, but he's got a feeling it's not super effective. Not with ponytails, anyway. "I mean, are you okay lately?"Louis sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes fixed on his phone. "I'm trying something out. Is that alright? I mean, have the last few days been alright for you? I've got nothing to lose but you – I mean."Harry doesn't ask why or what he's trying out, just like he doesn't ask what Louis' meetings are for. After everything Louis' told him, he can allow him to keep a few secrets. He's a very trusting man, who'd like Louis to calm down. "'Kay. You got my good side, yeah?""You say that like you have a bad side."Harry snorts. "Loser."So Louis posts it, and the world doesn't end. Amazing. He might be getting increasingly worried texts from Harry Magee, but whatever. The only thing he has to say to shut his management up is that Louis' helping him train. Nothing is more important than the championship right now.Which is what propels him to sneak out of the house at 9 AM and go for an hour-long run. As comforting as it is to spend whole days with Louis again, he can't lose sight of the Indian GP, just a week away. He uses the hour to clear his head, focus entirely on his pounding heart and feet, on the New Delhi circuit.He also gets lost three times. When he finally makes it back to Louis' house, it's half ten, he's sweaty and refreshed, and the only person up and about is Lottie.Harry considers sneaking past her and heading straight for the shower, but he was raised better than that. He walks up to the kitchen and leans against the threshold with his arms folded. "Hiya."She looks up from her phone in surprise. This is probably the first time ever they're alone together. "Hi Harry." Awkward silence. "Where's Louis?""Still asleep probably. I don't like training when he's around, I think it makes him feel bad.""Right."He clears his throat. "Don't you have school?"Lottie c@cks an eyebrow at him. "No, seeing as it's Saturday." She backtracks from the snark quickly enough. "I like your trainers. Very bright."Harry grins at her, showing off his neon green shoes. He takes that as invitation to enter the kitchen. "Thanks. D'you want some breakfast then?"She actually puts her phone face-down, suddenly interested in what Harry has to say. "Do I want Harry Styles to make me breakfast? Of course."Very good sign. Harry opens the fridge and sets to work. "How do you like your eggs in the morning?""Oh, just toast is fine. It's not my approval you need."Harry whirls around, only to find her smirking knowingly. "Whatever are you talking about?" he asks, mock-offended, and slices a few pieces of bread. Maybe he should make a salad. He should probably make a salad for everyone.Lottie giggles. "What I mean is, me and Louis… our relationship is a bit weird. As long as Liam and Zayn love you, you're good.""Oh." That makes him a bit sad. "I'd still like your approval, if that's alright. He loves you a lot."She smiles at him like he's being cute. "Can I ask a question, then?"He's never been grilled by a relative of a significant other. This is exciting. "Fire away.""The ring Louis started wearing all the time. It's yours, innit?"Harry's staring very intently at the cucumber he's chopping. "How'd you know?"She whispers a vindicated a-ha!. "We have pics of you wearing it, it wasn't that much of a leap.""We?"He glances over his shoulder to see her blushing to the roots of her hair. "The Internet," she finally admits. Harry snorts, and immediately apologises when she frowns at him. "I..." she starts. "We never see him, y'know? He left home six years ago and visited maybe six times since? We talk and he sends stuff over and I love him, obviously, but… I guess my only way to feel connected to him is…" She's trying to find the right words. Then blows Harry away with the blunt ones. "To stalk him online like a proper fangirl. Like I said, our relationship is weird."She's eyeing him like she's just waiting for him to take the piss. He doesn't. He puts the toasts on a plate and leaves the vegetables for a moment so he could set it in front of her and then sit down himself. "You can't tell this to anyone, yeah?"She arches an eyebrow and nods. He lowers his voice and leans closer to her. "Before I met him, I was a bit of a fangirl meself. Posters and everything. He was my idol."She's smiling so wide it's taken over her whole face. "But you did that because you thought he was fit.""Obviously. Is it less valid than your reason?""Absolutely not," she stresses, shaking her head. "Your relationship might actually be healthy.""Oh come off it, your relationship with him… It is what it is."She's quiet for a while, in the same way Louis gets when he's not sure whether to insult Harry or not. She makes a compromise. "Wise words. But I guess you're right. It's getting better, though, now that he's actually home and stopped lying to us." Her eyes widen. "Sorry, that came out harsh.""It's okay. This is between us." He smiles at her, and she smiles back."So can I ask another question?""You just did."She rolls her eyes in a very familiar way. "My god, you're an idiot. My question is – a friend told me there were pictures of you guys from the past few days. Like, together. Like, not subtle pictures. Do you… know what you're doing?"He's not going to lie to Louis' teenage sister. "Not really. But we're both onboard with it." He doesn't tell her how nice it was to be in public with Louis like they're a proper couple, doesn't even tell her about the rush he felt at the knowledge people know Louis' wearing his ring. People know Louis is his. That's something Louis' teenage sister doesn't have to know."Alright then. You've really softened him up, y'know?" She says it accusatorily, but Harry just grins."Is that so?""Yeah, he's proper nice to us. Not bitchy at all.""That's because he's only bitchy to me."She snorts. Harry's sure there's a clever answer on the tip of her tongue, but before their conversation can carry on Louis staggers into the kitchen, small and shirtless. Harry really hopes Lottie's brain is just blocking out the bruises and lovebites all over Louis' body. (She takes to looking strictly at his face.) "You guys talking about me?" he asks, sleep-rough, while reaching blindly for his tea."No Louis, we have other interests, you know," Lottie snaps.Louis doesn't bother to stop making his cuppa when he snaps back, "That's definitely a lie, bug, he has no other interests but me."Lottie looks at Harry in challenge. He's definitely pressured into a scathing retort. "That's not true. I'm also interested in classic cars and wildlife."Louis laughs at his attempt. He actually puts the mug down and limps over to the table to kiss Harry's cheek softly. Harry just freezes. Usually Louis' a lot more reserved around his family. Maybe Lottie's different. Maybe he's just still half-asleep. "You were discussing wildlife then?""Yeah, we both like panda bears," Lottie cuts in. "Bugger off then."Louis smiles. He's looking at Harry's lips, maybe planning on planting a kiss there, but then decides against it. Harry's miffed. "Alright, carry on then. You stink anyway, Harold.""See?" he whispers to Lottie, who laughs, crinkly-eyed like her brother. Maybe she will approve of him.He gets up to finish his salad while Louis perches on the counter and passes him cucumbers and tomatoes and feta cheese. They do it mostly silently, barring the occasional "thanks love" and "sure babe", a nudge or a pet. When he's finally done he realises he might have made enough salad to last through the whole weekend. Jay will be pleased."Show the lads," Louis says, like he's trying to distract Harry from the fact he's illicitly munching on cheese cubes."When it's this perfect it's going on Instagram," he tells him off while opening his app. That's when he notices Louis' tweeted something new last night, after he ran his secret errand.
  
    
  
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He looks up at Louis curiously. He's oblivious, still scrubbing at his eyes and licking his sticky fingers clean. He's adorable, even when he's acting funny. What can Harry do, really, but play along? 
  
    
  

  
    
  
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*It's exactly five weeks after the accident that Louis gets the job offer he didn't know he wanted. That's very convenient, as he's just rehabilitated enough to travel to the Cowell HQ in Manchester on his own.He only chatted with James Corden two weeks ago and asked for him to fish around, tell a few key people that Louis Tomlinson is looking for work behind the scenes after his injury. He absolutely didn't think it would take so little time to get such an amazing offer."I dunno why you thought that, the broadcasts are always gagging for racers to commentate," Liam said when Louis called him in a panic. "And you're not some stubby dude who raced F3 forty years ago, you're at your prime. Everyone will wanna hear what you have to say. Why'd you think they're offering you so much money? So you don't go to BBC Sports, that's why."He had a solid point, but Louis just wasn't hearing it. The only thing going through his mind was, and is, co-anchoring with f@ck@ng Martin Brundle, covering the whole 2014 season on-site for Sky Sports, doing everything but racing with Harry.It couldn't be any better than that. He recognises that, even with his stomach twisting and his heart pounding. He knows what the next step is. He's talked with his lawyers. He's already set up the meeting with Simon. But he's f@ck@ng terrified.His mum is the first person he tells, after Zayn and Liam. He didn't actually mean to, but she found him in hysterics in the bathroom, and ten minutes later she was cradling him in her lap and listening to him babble."I'm bl@@dy excited, right? It's such a good offer, but. It's huge. Shouldn't I wait before I decide to bow out? What if it's just a stress reaction to the injury?""I know, love, I know it's huge," she says gently. "And traumatic experiences have a way of shifting your view on things, but the question is, are you seeing things more clouded or more clearly?"He thinks about it for a long time. There's really no way of knowing for sure, but now that he's actually got an offer, now that he's got something to consider, he can at least think it over.He's been in Formula 1 for five years. He's won a world championship at 23, nearly breaking the record for youngest racer to ever do so. He's been at the top of the top and the lowest of lows, be it an injury or a potential scandal. Racing is what he knows. That's all he knows. And that can't last. He was going to burn out either way, just like Zayn said.He's never been an anchor on national television. He's never been a behind-the-scenes guy. He's never tried looking at the bigger picture.He's also never been someone's partner.And he's not quitting for Harry, just like he's not quitting for his mum or his sisters. That's the whole reason he didn't tell anyone about any of this: he didn't want to be swayed either way, so the decision could be completely up to him. He didn't want that hanging over their relationship. He's doing it for himself. Because he wants to explore all those things he's never been. He's only 25 years old, Christ, he's got enough experience and talent to get back behind the wheel in one or even five years if he'd want to.What's important is what he wants right now. And going back just isn't it. Too much has changed. He's seeing things more clearly."I think I'm gonna try it out," he says. It sounds weird out loud, final. The words still swirling around him after he's let them out."Okay," she says. She doesn't sound thrilled or relieved, maybe because she doesn't want to impose, or maybe because she's just not. She told him herself, when he asked her if he should come out to Dan and his sisters, that she just wanted him to do what made him happy. "Have you told Harry about the offer?""It's Saturday, I don't wanna distract him from the race."She kisses his forehead, but doesn't let him off the hook. "You know he won't see it like that. This is a big decision."Louis curls in on himself. "I've been making them for myself for years."She hums. "Alright, whatever you decide. Just sleep on it. You're giving your two weeks on Monday?"Louis laughs. "It doesn't really work like that, but essentially, yeah.""Okay. How about we get out of the bathroom and I make you some tea?"There's nothing more comforting than that. "I love you, y'know? I'm glad you let me stay here.""I'm glad you wanted to, sweetheart. Come on, up. Will you need a ride to the HQ? I can change shifts – ""No, Jesus."Louis' an adult. He feels very adult-like when he's sitting in a lift, too anxious to actually press the button to the team principal's floor, and writes on his phone the key notes of what he wants to say. It's equally embarrassing when the lift doors open and a startled receptionist stares him down. "Mr. Tomlinson," she stutters."Uh, yeah," he says, standing up and trying not to wince. His ankle isn't swollen anymore, but f@ck if it doesn't hurt.She looks from him to the Styrofoam cups she's holding in each hand. "Would you like some coffee?" she chirps.Louis smiles warmly and shakes his head. "No thanks, love. I just forgot which floor Cowell's office is.""Oh, it's the last one. I'm going there, I'll. Yeah, I'll just press it."The ride up to the fourteenth floor is awkward as f@ck, as she keeps glancing at his foot and then mentally berating herself. Louis' just trying to regulate his breathing so that he will appear confident when he gives up on the contract of his life, the people that saw him through his darkest times.He's still mumbling to himself even as he's shown to Simon's office and is told, "Mr. Cowell's ready for you."Simon Cowell is a very imposing man. His office is no different. The big oak desk, bare walls and heavy bookcases exude power. Simon being flanked by two other businessmen Louis doesn't recognise isn't helping matters at all.However. They do know each other since Louis was nineteen. He's even had a few crying fits in this very office. He's more welcome here than most, and Simon actually smiles at him when he enters."Ah, Louis, good to see you. How's the leg?"Louis loosens up considerably. Actually facing the beast is better than the dread leading up to it. "Alright, actually. It's looking more like eight weeks than twelve.""Excellent. Sit down then."Louis tries not to collapse on the chair in relief. He's very subtle when he crosses his legs so his ankle isn't touching anything. "Thanks.""Sure. Listen, I'll cut to the chase. I'm glad you took this meeting, since we need to discuss certain things. You know I don't like to meddle with PR affairs, it bores me to tears, but this business with Harry – ""Actually, uh," Louis blurts. "Sorry, but that's not what I'm here for."Simon frowns at being interrupted. Louis feels like he's ten and sitting in the headmaster's office after smashing a window with his football. He gulps when Simon asks, "Oh?""I'm considering not renewing my contract with Cowell Racing."His stomach drops. The other two men, who've been chatting quietly amongst themselves, are dead silent and looking straight at Louis. Simon just looks shocked. "You want to move to another constructor?"Louis nearly leaps to his feet. "No, f@ck no, there's no better team out there for me.""Then what, you want to retire?" he asks jokingly, but when Louis doesn't respond his face falls. "Jerry, Stephen, leave us."They shuffle off, closing the door carefully behind them. Simon looks deep into his eyes. "Is it because of the injury?" he asks, voice softer than Louis was expecting. They know each other too well for it to be about the money.He sighs. "Among other things.""Well, you'll recover long before February. And our losses aren't that significant if Harry wins – " He sits back suddenly. "Is it about Harry?"Louis shakes his head. "I just don't think I'm cut out for this anymore. And you don't need a driver who's distracted or burnt out. You need a driver like Harry, someone focused and dedicated." He hesitates. "I've got the papers from my lawyer right here – ""Louis," Simon cuts him off, waving his hand. "I'm not dragging you to court, I realise it's not up to me. Your contract's up, you don't owe me.""Are you kidding, I owe you everything. No one would have kept me after the fiasco last year, or been so kind to me after blowing the season with an ankle sprain. You saw something in me six years ago and brought me up to be the best racer on the track. I'll never forget it. Let me repay you by knowing when to walk away." He feels lighter once he's said it, the whole manifesto he's typed up on his phone. Just hearing himself convinces him he's doing the right thing here.Simon surprises him by sighing and rubbing a hand over his face, visibly frustrated. "It's going to be hard to let you go, Tommo. You're my leader."He's actually touched by Simon's reaction. He built this meeting up in his head so much that he thought Simon would explode on him, but he's taking it as well as he can. "Thank you, sir.""Oh, knock it out. What are your plans? I could be quite helpful."Louis just wants to give him a big hug. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm already set up. Anchoring for Sky Sports."Simon arches an eyebrow, like he's mildly impressed. "Clever.""Yeah, can't keep me off the track.""You couldn't anyway, not if Harry keeps competing in your name." He says it offhandedly, but there's nothing really casual about Simon Cowell.Louis ducks his head awkwardly. "He'll get over it once he wins the championship.""I agree."A displaced sense of pride blossoms in Louis' chest, pleased that Harry's appreciated by his boss. "Can I ask if you're going to have him in the leading car next year?""You could, but I don't have an answer. He still hasn't signed with us for 2014." Louis frowns, but Simon doesn't let him speak before he continues. "Can I ask if you intend to come out of the closet?"Louis actually feels himself flushing. Nothing could compare to the humiliation of coming out to Simon while being extorted last year, but just discussing his sexuality with his boss is humiliating enough. However, unlike Simon, he does have an answer. After doing the trial week with Harry when he flew in, after coming out to his family, after quitting his job, he does have an answer."I do."Simon doesn't say anything, positive or negative, but Louis swears there's a proud smile playing at his lips.Amazingly, Simon closes the meeting with, "You'll always be welcome here."He can't believe he's got the chance to ask the question that's been plaguing him for two years. "Pepsi would want to be headlined by a gay guy?""This gay guy is going to be the biggest sports story of 2013 with or without a soft drink in his hand." He leans forward. "And you, young man, can race my cars better than anyone on two legs. Take care of yourself. Whatever you do next, I know I'll hear about you."He leaves the paperwork on Simon's desk. Maybe he leaves a piece of his heart with it.*"You did what?"Harry must have heard wrong.  There's just no way Louis said – "I'm taking a gap year.""You can't take a gap year, you're not in school. You didn't even do sixth form."Louis huffs. "A metaphorical gap year.""Louis. What are you talking about.""I sort of didn't renew my contract and got a job – a sweet job – on Sky TV."He's still pretty sure he's hallucinating. Way too much time at the garage. "Did the doctor – ""No, no, my leg's fine. Or it'll be fine. I would've told you if my ankle was getting worse."Harry frowns hard, even though Louis can't see him. Since they're talking on the phone. Since Louis thought he should break the news over the phone. "I should think you'd tell me that you wanted to leave me here.""Harold, love, I'm never leaving you. I'm not even leaving the sport, I'm just moving from the car to the pit wall."Oh god, he's actually serious. Harry falls to his knees and presses the phone painfully close to his ear. "But. Why?""It's... complicated. It's the injury and this epiphany I had when I watched you race and something deep Zayn said – ""Zayn knew?" Well that f@ck@ng stings. It shouldn't, but – Jesus, Harry's been transferred to an alternative universe where The Tommo doesn't want to race cars for a living. And he didn't even tell him. He's freaking out."Yeah, I. Needed to talk to someone about it and it just couldn't be you."Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because you’ve known Zayn for longer?""No," Louis says immediately. "Because I didn't want you to feel like I'm quitting because of you. Are you p@ss@d?""I'm not p@ss@d, Louis," Harry says shortly. "I wouldn't have wanted to feel like I drove you away from the thing you love most.""But that's the point, innit? Racing isn't what I love most anymore. And I'm an all-in kinda guy."Harry just. Sighs. "You're such a sh@t, you can't say nice things when I'm trying to be p@ss@d at you."Louis sounds appropriately bashful when he says, "Thought you weren't p@ss@d." He's probably making a cute face, the arsehole."I'm. I don't know what I am. It's weird that you didn't tell me. It's weird that you're not going to race next year. It's weird to even say it." He feels sort of numb just thinking about it. It's been the best year of his life without even winning a title, he just thought it would last. Thought they'd be sharing everything next year too."Well, it's weirder for me, so," Louis says in a small voice.Sh@t, maybe Harry's being the arsehole. Just because Louis' made the decision without him doesn't mean he doesn't need him still. He has to get over it. "I know. You're gonna be brilliant on telly, though.""Yeah?" He actually sounds fragile."Obviously, with those cheekbones? Everyone's gonna want a piece of you."Louis snorts, like he wasn't expecting that. "I'm not a piece of meat, Harry.""Well, I guess you could also be the most inappropriate anchor. Oh my god, Louis, are you just trying to live out Will Ferrell movies?"A full belly laugh erupts on the other line. Harry is definitely pleased with himself. "I promise I won't grow out an ugly moustache," Louis says. "Though I am thinking about a proper shave and a haircut.""Whoa, pace yourself there. You already changed your career path." Harry can't believe he's joking about it, but a laughing Louis is better than… anything, really. It seems to fill the space his shock has carved out. He bites his lip and asks as quietly as he can, "Say it again.""I promise no moustache?""No, the thing. The nice thing."He waits until Louis pieces it together. His voice is unbearably soft and fond when he says, "I'm never leaving you. I took this job because it'll keep me right in the loop and I could be a good jet setting WAG for you."Harry makes a noncommittal noise and rubs his right wrist. "Till the finish line?" he pushes."Yeah," Louis says, surprisingly easy, like he's not blowing Harry's mind. "I meant it when I said I'm all in."Well then. Looks like Harry's got a few decisions of his own to make.He does four things in succession:Books the first flight out to EnglandSets up a meeting with Simon CowellBooks a flight from England to Abu Dhabi so he doesn't f@ck his schedule upTells Gemma he'll be crashing at her flat for a couple of nights.It's intended to be a secret visit, as a small payback for Louis keeping the secret of the decade from him, but of course he caves before even leaving the airport. His phone starts buzzing with two texts from Zayn and one text from Louis, which he tries to ignore for all of three seconds before opening.
  Albus F@ck@ng Dumbledore Xxx:

  you're not in india m8
Harry rolls his eyes. ssh, it's a secret. I'm running an errand.Louis responds by calling and shouting at him for not telling him in advance. Harry glares at his own phone. "Right, Mr. Sharing Is Caring. I've only got a couple of days before I have to run off to the next race, I didn't wanna trouble your mum."Louis' having absolutely none of it. "Harold, I swear to god I will walk there myself if you continue talking sh@t.""Fine, Jesus." He's actually flushing a bit. The day he's not excited to see Louis, someone should check his pulse.His meeting is two hours after he lands in the UK, so he doesn't really have time to stress himself out about it. It also means that when he drives back to the Tomlinson home, the first thing Louis says to him is, "Well? They're gonna let you come out?"Harry frowns at him. Louis always ruins surprises. He was probably one of those sh@tty kids who peeked under the tree on Christmas Eve. Who's he kidding, he probably still does. Probably will when he's a dad himself.His musings take him too long and Louis actually puts his tea down and nudges his head under Harry's chin for a hug. "Sorry.""Oh, no, they did," Harry tacks on.Louis scrambles from the hug so he could punch Harry's arm. He'd consider taking offence if Louis weren't beaming at him like a miniature sun. "They – you – how the f@ck?"Harry shrugs. "I reminded them that I'm going to win the world championship and break a record on the way. They can take me as I am, or I can take my business elsewhere. They decided to get behind me. I guess they can't have both their racers resigning."Fondness is spilling from Louis' eyes, from his whole body. He tucks himself against Harry. They're still at the f@ck@ng doorway. "Can't believe you did that.""It's only a choice I was going to make anyway. Guess now I'll just be more comfortable making it. Kiss now?"Louis nods and pulls him down for a fierce kiss.Harry only has two days in England, and they spend almost all of them awake and together. Louis cancels his appointments and Harry doesn't go for runs. They hole up in Louis' room and talk it out. First it was just Louis filling him in on all the stuff he'd kept from him; the crisis leading up to his decision. Then they talked about the future. How they were going to go about their announcements.The highlight is when Harry asks Louis what he meant by all in, and Louis blushes all over. "Well, like. We're gonna be all around the world all year, yeah?"Harry nods encouragingly, fingers still tangled in Louis' hair. He hopes he never cuts it. He hopes Louis will become Rapunzel and Harry can play with his hair forever. He's been using his sisters' flowery shampoo so it's extra soft and pretty and Harry's just sighing all over himself."But I thought maybe, for when we are home, we could, like. Since you're homeless.""I'm not – wait." He looks down at Louis' face, finds him staring shiftily at the wall. "Are you suggesting we get a place together?" Louis turns mean eyes to him so Harry rapidly adds, "We should get on that definitely. Yeah. Legit. Wow.""Since you're homeless," Louis clarifies.Harry peppers Louis' face with kisses. "Home is where your heart is," he sing-songs into Louis' temple.Louis shoves him off weakly. "Are you quite finished?""God only knows."*Louis flies out to Austin. Of course he does. He goes because it's going to be the most dramatic race of the year, he goes because the champion will be determined there, he goes to support his boy, he goes because his ankle finally allows it, he goes to see his crew for the first time in over a month.What he doesn't go for is exposure. But of course that's what he gets. He can't even blame the press for being all over him, really. Firstly, because he's going to be in their shoes next year (yes, it's official, he signed the papers), and secondly because he's spent eight weeks completely under the radar. The only updates they got regarding his recovery and plans have been from Eleanor. To have him in person on the track is a golden opportunity.Louis' very grateful he's had the foresight to prepare a sign that read "I'M NOT HERE TO RACE" with a poorly drawn swollen ankle. That takes care of half of the questions aimed at him. He manages to cleverly avoid the press all morning, p@ss@s away hours just reuniting with the lads. Niall is the picture of happiness. Liam insists on carrying him bridal style everywhere, despite the fact he's more or less fully returned to activity. Harry keeps talking nonsense about how they just weren't a complete set without Louis.Zayn takes the cake, though. It starts with him nearly crying when he first sees Louis, the sentimental idiot. Then he jumps on him for a massive hug. "Bro," is all he says."I know," Louis whispers back, holding Zayn tight."Getting jealous over here," Harry pipes up. Louis flips him off just as Zayn starts to tug him towards the back entrance of the garages."I wanna show you something," he explains. They sneak into the back, with the scraps and the –"Holy f@ck@ng sh@t." He can hear his heart dropping to his feet. "I don't believe it."Zayn is beaming. It's not even his Attractive Smile™, it's just bliss in face form. Because Louis' standing in front of a fully restored Jeanne. He falls to his knees smoothly and just strokes her front wing and her board, fluttering over the tyres."It's our ride," Zayn explains, without Louis having to ask."She's stunning. Zayn, you're f@ck@ng amazing." Before Zayn even opens his mouth Louis adds, "And if you say anything about how it was your fault in the first place I will cut off your tongue."Zayn wisely chooses to stay quiet.Louis' choked up, for sure, but he managed to survive that mess without openly weeping. Only, they walk across the garage and the whole place is dead quiet all of a sudden, where usually it's mayhem of drilling and shouting.Then his crew starts clapping for Louis, one by one. He's awestruck and speechless, tries to gesture for them to stop, but then Niall's mechanics are joining in, hooting for Louis' return. It doesn't stop there, is the thing. Other mechanics approach to see what the ruckus is about, spot Louis, and start clapping. Racers start clapping. He's getting a g@dd@mn ovation for no reason whatsoever other than standing on his own two feet. He's never felt more overwhelmed.So, yeah. His eyes are a tad watery. It gets even worse when it hits him that this is the last time he'll be standing here in this crew in this uniform. He thinks about Jeanne, good as new. He thinks of himself. New as good.He knows it's time to say his goodbyes.He pulls Harry aside and whispers, "Y'know how I sometimes make decisions without alerting you?""Yeah?""Consider yourself alerted."Harry brushes a finger over Louis' forearm. "Whatever you feel like, babe."He really wants to kiss him, right here, in front of everyone. It's definitely a contributing factor to his decision.Eleanor sets the conference up remarkably fast. He only gets fifteen minutes to himself, as he absolutely should – seeing as he's not even racing and the star here should definitely be Harry. It's the reason he decides not to do the conference wearing a uniform. He's gone rogue.He actually expects to be greeted by, like, the three and a half reporters Eleanor has managed to scrounge up in the short amount of time she had. Instead, the room is teeming with people and cameras.He feels lonely and exposed, just him up on the stage, but the FIA guys are nice and there's just no avoiding it. It's his show. Harry is somewhere out there preparing for his first practice, as he should be. Whatever happens, it's completely up to Louis.The first question is easy. Peter Windsor from F1 Racing wants to know if he'll be racing today. Louis just points at the sign still stuck to his chest.The second question is harder. "Are the rumours true, then? You're facing early retirement?"This is his moment. He can draw it out, do a quiet announcement during the winter, release it through Cowell after they've found a permanent replacement. But they don't really deserve that. "It's true. I won't be racing next year."The floor is visibly halved by reporters who've anticipated this development and have a set of planned questions, and reporters who didn't believe the rumours. The problem is that the planned questions are hard-hitting. Peter's quick with the follow-up. "Is it because the injury has proven too overwhelming?""Not really. It's so Harry Styles has an even remote chance to overshadow me." The joke slips from his mouth before he even thinks about it, and the crowd laughs. Louis figures it's okay. It's perfect, really. He hasn't given a serious interview in his entire career, why should he give a fuck now? He's known these people for years. He's about to join their ranks.Racer magazine is quick to prompt, "It seems that the last two seasons have been very disappointing for you. What do you say about retiring without winning your comeback season?"He takes a moment to mull that over. Because it's true, objectively speaking it's a disaster. His worst predictions came true: another season thrown out the window. But he's just not that torn up about it. Because he found something better. Something that sticks. He touches his tattoo, his ring. Little parts of Harry on him. "It's gonna sound cheesy, but I did win something more important."A murmur goes through the floor. "What did you win?" someone finally asks.It's now or never. He'll never be more vulnerable. He goes all in. "I met my partner this season."More confused whispers. "You mean your teammate?"It feels oddly like whiplash. Cold waves rush through his body, and he can't really bring himself to move. It's an effort to even open his mouth. But he has to. "No, I mean my boyfriend."There are no whispers. No murmurs. Chaos erupts in the room. None of the reporters anticipated this development. Louis' face heats up absurdly while they scramble to recover from his curveball. Thank god Eleanor steps in for the director and announces there will be no further questions. His jaws feel like they're bolted shut. He's shivering.He expects her to tell him off for forty minutes, but she just puts a gentle hand on his shoulder as she ushers him out, and actually whispers, "Proud of you."Louis nods at her, hopes it'll be enough. Daylight blinds him as soon as they break out of the conference room, so he doesn't actually notice Harry at first. When he does the urge to cry intensifies considerably. Harry's just skulking around, not at all inconspicuously, but Louis doesn't care. He wants him so much.Harry's face is nothing but sympathetic when he spots Louis. It takes him half a second to grab Louis' hand and lead him to some secluded corner, and then he hugs the living daylights out of him. Louis melts into his embrace, instantly comforted. He still can't speak, but Harry does for the both of them, whispering sweet nothings. "I'm so, so proud of you, you were amazing up there, not taking any sh@t. I love you so much for doing this. You have no idea how much that means. Not just to me; to the sport itself. It matters so much, whether you're racing tomorrow or not."Louis' crying into his neck, he can't stop. He's overloaded with stress and fear and relief and love. It feels like if Harry lets him go he'll fall apart into a million pieces. Harry keeps murmuring, "Ssh, love. You matter so f@ck@ng much to me, Jesus Christ. You were clever, too, keeping it like an offhand remark instead of a big statement. It was better than our plan.""I love you too," is the first thing he manages to say in a while.Harry sighs in relief, but doesn't stop stroking his back. "I know. You're retiring to give me a chance to overthrow you."Louis snorts, unsettled, since the urge to laugh doesn't quite fit with all the storm clouds in his head. "Overshadow," he corrects."Whatever, you pr@ck." He softens it with a kiss to Louis' forehead. "Any better?""Yeah, I. I don't know what came over me." He says it like he's not still shaking like a leaf.Harry's silent for a long moment. "You don't regret it, do you?"He shakes his head immediately. "No, it had to happen. I know it. I just… felt so weak all of a sudden."Harry holds him even tighter. "Well, I've got your back. I'll even be in your shoes. Just let me win the championship first."It's probably mental that Louis forgets his own panic to feel happy that Harry's confident he's going to win. He's such a star, always has been, always will be. Only now he's Louis' star. And he wants to protect him so much. "Not really my shoes. I'm halfway out of the game. You're gonna have to face these people for years, make yourself a role model. People will say so much sh@t, Haz.""Hey, we've talked about this. There will always be people talking sh@t. I'm not backing out now, I'm looking forward to it."Harry's so sure about this, Louis can't help but absorb some of it. Enough to get a grip, at least. He releases himself from Harry's arms and scrubs at his face roughly, timing his breaths like he's waiting for the starting lights to flash.Then he looks up, and the world realigns. Harry's been crying too, but his smile is huge and radiant, and his eyes show nothing but love and tenderness and devotion. It's like watching a sunrise. Louis knows that even if he regrets retiring or coming out, he will never regret placing his heart in this boy's hands.He's not waiting for the starting lights. It's the chequered flag waving right in front of him.*
     

           

  
    
  
*This is without a doubt the craziest day of Harry Styles' life. As much as he talked about it, there was really no conceivable way to prepare for winning his first world championship. Or for breaking the record for youngest driver to ever do so. Or for having Louis Tomlinson in f@ck@ng tears waiting for him at the pit wall.It's more than adrenaline or excitement or the usual sh@t that takes over him when he races, it's pure elation, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. He's on cloud nine, unbelievably proud and shocked and amazed. The only thing he wants is Louis. He wants to grab him and dip him and kiss him like a movie star. He wants to whack him over the head with his enormous champagne bottle. He wants to move to the country and have a farm and twelve babies.In the post race conference, it takes him ages to think of something to say. There's too much that he can't yet. "I'm just speechless, David. It's been a phenomenal season," he starts. "The spirit inside the team has been so amazing that… I said it on the radio, they made me strong. It was a pleasure to jump in the car and try to give all I've got for these guys."There. Not one mention of Louis' name. The whole point of him waiting was so that later, people will know how professional he is in uniform, that his sexual orientation doesn't change anything. It's all been carefully thought out by the publicists and managers and Harry and Louis themselves.He's not in uniform at the afterparty, though. In fact, he's in the fancy suit he wore for his mum's wedding, though it's gonna need four cycles of dry-cleaning after all the champagne-pouring and cake-throwing rituals. He and Louis are completely sh@tfaced. Well, everyone is. Zayn and Liam are doing a karaoke number with no karaoke machine in sight. Niall's in a drinking competition with Harry's German engineer.Everyone's happy, but none as much as he is. Maybe Louis, though. He's beaming at him, keeps touching him possessively and whispering about his superstar boyfriend. Harry doesn't want to whisper anymore. He's not in uniform. He can't contain his bliss. He's invincible.He puts sure hands on Louis' hip and leans down to say, "I wanna do it.""Really? Now?" Louis asks, not taking his hands off Harry's jacket."I'd like to see someone tell off a racer on the day he won the driver's championship. In fact, I'd like that someone to eat shit."Louis' eyes crinkle at the corners, he's smiling so hard. He's radiant and beautiful and his. "I meant because Zayn and Liam are absolutely butchering that Beach Boys song – "To think he was planning slow dancing to be The Big Move. Or to walk around holding hands. No, it had to be a kiss. A movie star, romance novel, world champions kiss. He dips Louis far back and keeps one arm secure around his waist but another tangled in his hair, possessive and clingy and like he's never letting go. Louis' hands immediately go up to his shoulders and his surprise turns into passion, his lips parting for Harry soon enough. It's sweet and real and desperate and public. It's f@ck@ng perfect.Louis looks dazed when Harry pulls him back up. He looks around for a second, like he's expecting booing or rotten tomatoes, but all they get are catcalls and cheers. At least, that's all Harry registers. Before he registers Niall leaping into his arms like an Irish imp and yelling, "Now do me!"So he dips Niall too. Louis doesn't look too miffed. He knows Harry plans on dipping him every day for the rest of their lives. He doesn't have to race for it anymore.He's made it home.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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