sheets are swaying. harry/louis
title: sheets are swaying
fandom: one direction
ship: harry/louis
synopsis: it was a week later than it was supposed to be, but louis was finally going to have his homecoming - once and for all.
word count: 2,000+
a/n: apparently any time something happens related to louis and eleanor, i have to write a fic about it? whatever. today (yesterday? lalala time zones) is the anniversary of louis' x-factor audition and all the airport pictures came out and...yeah, then this happened.
the title is lyrics to the song "welcome home, son" by radical face!
hope you like :]
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"They quite actually stalked us through the entire airport," Louis muttered under his breath as he and Eleanor made their way out of London Heathrow and toward the black town car that was waiting for them to take them home.
Home. He kept rolling the word around in his head like he'd never heard it before and was trying it out to make sure that he liked it. Home, home, home, Harry, home, home, home, Harry, home, Harry, Harry, home...
"They needed some evidence that we were actually in the same country as each other," the brunette next to him teased lightly. She slung one slim leg over the other, smoothing down her skirt with her hands. The ring on her finger caught the light and twinkled a little, and she peered down to examine it before holding out for Louis to see. "What do you think the fans will make out of this?" she asked. She'd snagged it at a little shop along the beach over the past week when she'd gone out with Lottie and Fizzy, slipping it on her finger without really paying much mind to what finger it was on. But then again, maybe having it on the fourth finger on her left hand would just help their case - whatever case that was.
The look Louis shot her in return told Eleanor that she knew exactly what people would think the ring meant, and she shrugged. "Then I suppose that overall we had a pretty successful day," she teased. And they had. Between the pictures shot of them at the airport (there were at least seventy, from Louis had been able to see on his phone once they'd landed) and the apparent ring on her finger, they'd definitely done their part.
And now Louis would get to do exactly what he'd wanted to do since he'd first gotten back to London last week. He'd get to go home. He'd get to really go home.
"I miss my bed," Eleanor sighed out, leaning back against the seat slightly and kicking her shoes off, she stretched her legs out and pressed them into the seat in front of her, turning her head back to look at Louis. "I bet you miss yours, too."
Louis didn't answer. Instead, he just looked down at his phone and went to the last text messages shared between him and Harry, reading through them.
HAZ: while you’ve been gone i’ve started having sex w/ grimmy!
HAZ: according to caroline at least.
LOU: oh that charmer, she is.
LOU: nick better in bed than me?
HAZ: afraid so. i already packed ur things up and put them by the curb. He’s taking over your bedroom - hope that’s ok!
LOU: fair enough.
HAZ: yeah, well.
There was one last text from Harry, sent a good while after the rest of them.
HAZ: come home.
Louis read over the texts a few more times, hearing Harry’s voice saying the words that he’d typed, before Eleanor’s voice pulled him out of his stupor. "Have you told him that you're on your way?" she asked.
He shook his head. "He knows I'm coming home, at least," he noted with a shrug. "There were pictures of us all over the internet, so I'm sure he's seen all of the shots at least a dozen times over by now."
He did text the boys, however. Sending a text first to Zayn, and then another to Liam, and one more to Niall to round them out. The only response he received was an exclamation point from Zayn and a smiley-face emoticon from Liam - but he took it anyway.
The car drove on, he wasn't sure for how long, really, before he could see the scenery changing with each turn of a corner. Up ahead, he could see his familiar apartment building that he felt like he hadn't seen in far too long. He shot one last look, a smile, in Eleanor's direction. "I'll see you soon?" he asked.
She nodded, pulling her phone out and quickly flipping over to Instagram. "One more for the road," she declared, holding her phone out in front of her before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, snapping the picture. Once she pulled her phone away, she kissed him twice more - once on both cheeks ("like the Italian!" she'd drunkenly cried out earlier during the week, horrible accent and all, as she'd sloppily kissed both of his cheeks on the yacht they'd spent an entire day on with the Tomlinson family).
"See you, El," he tossed out over his shoulder, sliding out of the car and closing the door after him. He grabbed his bags from the driver from where he'd sat them on the street for him, pulling up the handle on his suitcase and hoisting his bag up his shoulder before making his way up the front walk of his flat and into the complex.
He was greeted by one of the concierges at the front desk, sending her a small wave before retreating to the lift. He pressed down on the button, leaned back against the wall, and waited as he took the ride up.
It'd been a long week - a good week, and definitely somewhat relaxing once the paparazzi had eased off of him and Eleanor - but it wasn't what he'd been looking for, at all what he'd been looking for, and he was really just grateful that it was all over.
As the lift's doors pushed open, he stepped into the familiar hall, moving past the doors until he reached the one that would welcome him with open arms. He reached into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out the familiar key chain and grabbing his key, nestling it into the lock before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
He was taken aback at first. Almost like he'd forgotten what the place he'd been dreaming about every night for the past two months looked like. But then it all started to shift back into place. The pictures on the walls, the blanket draped over the couch, the fireplace and the stairs...Harry's shoes lined up neatly by the door. It was the last visual that sent Louis' heart leaping into his throat.
Sitting his bags down, he slid off his own shoes and sat his sunglasses down on the end table by the door, padding across the flat in search of the boy with the curls.
When he found him, it was in the kitchen. He was crouched down, his back to Louis, and seemed to be focused intently on something on the floor. Louis didn't say a word. He merely leaned against the doorway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment and watched him, let the vision of Harry - his Hazza - settle back into his mind, a small smile formed on his lips.
"Got you!" Harry finally declared, standing back up with what seemed to be a small bead pinched between his thumb and his forefinger. Louis could see that it was the metal clasp to his Leeds bracelet.
Harry turned his body just enough that he was facing the counter. He slid his red bracelet over, flipping it so that he could reattach the clasp. He paused after a few moments, his eyes darting over to his side and then slowly traveling up Louis' frame, widening as they went. Once green eyes met blue, a beatific, wide smile was on Harry's face, and the bead fell onto the counter, already forgotten.
"Louis!" he exclaimed, lunging forward the few feet that kept them apart before his long arms were wrapping around Louis' shoulder and pulling them into each other. "You're home," he breathed out into his ear. He pulled away - just barely - and pressed a kiss to Louis' lips, followed by another, and another.
Louis was the one to break them apart, keeping his arms firmly around Harry's waist. He took a few moments to just look at Harry - to really look at him, to familiarize himself with the face he'd only been able to see in pictures and in his own memory for the past few days - before leaning in and stealing another kiss. He could feel Harry smiling into the kiss, humming against Louis' lips as Louis pulled away.
He nodded over to the Leeds bracelet, shooting Harry a knowing look. "I'm thinking we're going to have to go back to the festival this year to get you a new one," he teased.
Harry only grinned in response, pulling him in for another kiss. "I'm going to hold you to that," he murmured against Louis' lips. When they pulled away this time, Harry pressed another kiss - soft and sweet and lingering - to Louis' forehead. "You know what today is, right?" he asked quietly.
"Our two year When-Harry-Met-Louis-versary, right?" Louis asked, pulling back and giving him a small smirk.
Harry's reply was to kiss him all over again. "Couldn't have picked a better day to come home if you'd tried."
"Wasn't going to miss it," Louis echoed back to him, dropping a kiss to Harry's shoulder.
"So, what's the plan?" Harry asked, pulling away once more. He ran his hands up and down Louis' sides, giving him a questioning look with bright, wide eyes. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "Do you want me to make you something, or go out and get something? I don't know if Liam has anything going on tonight if you want to go see him...or maybe we could--"
Louis cut him off by leaning up on his toes and kissing Harry once more. "I have been on an airplane for the past three hours," he replied. "Before that, I was running around France for a week. I haven't seen you since the first of July, I haven't seen this flat since the middle of May..." he arched an eyebrow at Harry, and Harry nodded.
Not only did he nod, but he smirked as well, swaying back on his heels for a moment. "Would you like me to give you the grand tour, Mr. Tomlinson?" he asked teasingly, holding an arm out to Louis for him to link his own arm through. "We wouldn't want you wandering off and getting lost in here - it can be a bit confusing."
Louis rolled his eyes, but looped his arm through Harry's anyway. He leaned up again after that, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek because he couldn't get enough of his salt skin if he tried. "Will this tour be going by the shower, by any chance?" he asked, tugging Harry off until they fell into step with each other, heading through the flat and toward the stairs.
"That just so happens to be the first stop," Harry replied with a cheeky grin.
They took the stairs slowly, not really caring how long it took because now they had all the time in the world - for once, it was just them. They didn't have people to impress, they didn't have a show to put on. They didn't have to grit their teeth through interviews or make up ridiculously vague remarks so that they could tell the truth and yet pull off a convincing lie at the same time. Right now, it was just Louis and Harry. Nothing else mattered.
They came to a stop in front of the bathroom, and Louis turned to look at Harry, raising his eyebrows at him and giving him a knowing smile. And with that one smile, Harry didn't have to say a word. Instead, he let actions speak instead - actions always worked quite well for them, anyway.
He pushed Louis back into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him as they stripped each other, pulling off each item and clothing and tossing them to the floor. Their legs mangled together like vines, the two of them staggering into the shower as Harry blindly reached forward to fiddle with the knobs until steaming hot water was raining down over them.
Louis' fingers worked into Harry's hair, gripping onto the curls that he loved far too much, and he smiled into each kiss that Harry dropped to his neck, his shoulder, his chest, and lower still - allowing every inch of France and the past week to be kissed off of him and washed down the drain.
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