Archive of Our Own ^beta

Louis holds back a sigh as he glances at the clock on his desk. The time indicates it has only been five minutes since he last checked although it feels like ten times longer. Ever so subtly, Louis shifts his gaze to look past the clock and at the desk across the hall from him. His nemesis, Harry Styles, is sitting ramrod straight and looking seriously at his computer. He has one hand on his computer mouse and the other tapping rhythmically against the table.

Carefully schooling his expression to be completely casual, Louis straightens his own posture and copies Harry’s position: one hand on the mouse, the other tapping away. After only a short moment, he catches on to the pattern of beats Harry is tapping out and matches them perfectly.

Abruptly, Harry’s fingers stop drumming and his eyes snap upwards. Louis does his best to not squirm under the intensity of his coworker’s green eyes. Harry lifts an eyebrow, and Louis returns the gesture.

It’s called the Mirror Game, or at least that’s what Louis calls it in his head. He and Harry have never actually spoken about the games that they play. That would involve communicating with each other cordially - an impossible feat.

Harry turns to reach inside the drawer of his desk, taking out a blue pen. Louis copies him, reaching into his own desk to retrieve a pen. Louis’ pen is plain black ink, but it’s close enough to count.

There is a pad of sticky-notes sitting neatly next to Harry’s monitor. He takes it, jots something down, then removes the top note and sticks it primly to the bottom border of his screen. A reminder of some sort, it seems.

Louis’ desk is not as neatly laid out as Harry’s; despite his best attempts the clutter always builds back up somehow. He finds his own sticky-notes in the disaster that is his desk drawer and pulls them out, jotting down a smiley face with x’s for eyes. Just like Harry had, he takes the top sticky note and places it on the bottom of his screen.

Harry has returned his sticky note pad to its rightful place on his desk, so Louis tosses his own back into the drawer he found it in. Harry gives him a nod, and Louis nods back. Harry picks up his pen, poised to write something else down. Louis mimics the motion, taking his own pen back in his hand. But instead of writing, Harry gives a flick of his hand that sends the pen spinning over his fingers before catching it effortlessly, again poised to write.

Louis presses his lips together, knowing he won’t succeed at the same move. Harry has won the Mirror Game this time.

Louis sets down his pen and fights to keep the scowl off of his face. Part of the game is that to anyone else who may be watching, it should appear as if nothing has even happened. He can’t let his frustration show, or even acknowledge the loss in any way. Across the room, Harry sets down his pen too, and goes back to looking at his screen. To the untrained eye, nothing would be amiss. But Louis knows better. He can see the smug self-satisfaction written on Harry’s face.

Fortunately, his work phone rings just then, giving him a welcome distraction from losing this round.

Louis picks up the trilling landline gratefully, rattling off on autopilot, “P+H Publishing. This is Mr. Payne’s assistant, Louis, speaking.”

“Hey Louis, it’s me - Sharon. How’s your day going?”

“Alright,” Louis says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steady himself. Today is Friday, which means the weekend is slowly but surely approaching. Louis had been so focused on that fact, that he had forgotten the other thing that happens every Friday. Just like clockwork, Sharon calls to ask for an extension on her deadline. Every time, Louis gives in.

“I’m so sorry to have to ask this of you again,” Sharon starts her usual spiel. She is most likely at her desk, two floors away from Louis, but he can picture her brown eyes going wide and pleading. “I need an extension. I’ve got the worst migraine right now.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. He tries to gather his resolve. Maybe today will be the day that he finally puts his foot down.

Sensing his unwillingness, Sharon continues, “My head hurts so badly, I can barely look at my screen. And to top it off, my sister just told me that she’s had an emergency and can’t get her kids from school today. I have to leave soon, but there’s just no way I’ll have the report done before then.”

Louis suspects that the second part is a lie to garner pity. But he can’t quite rule it out, and the thought of being the reason for some poor kids being abandoned at school makes his chest feel tight. Louis sighs. “I understand, but this really can’t happen again, okay? This is the last time. And I need it Monday morning, first thing.”

Sharon squeals so loudly that Louis nearly gets a migraine of his own. He moves the phone away from his ear, but he can still hear her excitedly babbling, “Thank you so much, Louis! I promise this is the last time. I won’t let you down. You’re the best .”

Louis barely refrains from letting out another sigh. Sharon’s report being in on Monday instead of today will shift back his entire schedule. He might have to stay late on Monday, especially if she sends it to him closer to noon like she has the past couple of times he has granted her an extension. It’s always some kind of emergency that tugs on his heartstrings. Last week, her dog was violently ill and had to be taken to the vet. The week before, her mum had been in a car accident. Before that, her flat had been broken into.

“Bye, Louis,” Sharon is saying when he deems it safe to return the phone to his ear. “You really are the best, you know? Everyone likes you the most. You’re so much more understanding than,” she lowers her voice to whisper snarkily, “Harry.”

It shouldn’t make a difference at all, but Louis can’t help the satisfaction that blooms in his chest at that. He still might have to stay late, and he probably is being lied to, but at least he is more well-liked than Harry is.

“Monday morning, first thing,” Louis repeats, but he can hear how his tone has lightened up after the compliment.

“You got it. Thank you!” Sharon says one last time before hanging up.

Louis sets the phone down, then turns his attention to his own calendar to make a note to himself to send Sharon a reminder on Monday and to block out some time in the evening in case he needs to stay late. He wouldn’t have had any plans after work anyways, but it’s nice to have an up-to-date calendar.

“You said that last week.” Harry’s voice is deep, and the words come out slow and full of judgment. “And the week before that.”

Louis looks away from his calendar to glare across the room at Harry. “There’s been a good reason every week.”

“If it’s happening every week, the reasons are fake,” Harry says, raising an eyebrow at him.

Louis stares back, feeling offended that Harry thinks he can’t tell that Sharon has been stretching the truth. “It’s called giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Not that you would know anything about that.”

Harry scoffs. “There’s a difference between a one-time mistake and a weekly pattern.”

“So we do things differently,” Louis snaps, exasperated. “What exactly is your point?”

“If people think you’re a pushover, they’ll take advantage of you.”

Louis laughs in disbelief. “I am not taking advice from you when it comes to what people here think of me. There is not a single person in this office who even likes you.”

It’s a cutting statement, and much harsher than Louis would speak to anyone else. But Harry somehow knows exactly how to get under his skin and bring out the worst in him. Louis nearly backtracks and apologizes, but Harry doesn’t miss a beat.

“They might not like me, but at least they respect me,” Harry says, before parroting Louis’ own words back at him. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

Louis gapes at Harry, stung by the words. Before he can retaliate, Harry’s desk phone rings, effectively ending the conversation. It must be Harry’s boss summoning him, because a moment later Harry hangs up and heads into the office to his left.

Louis fumes, tapping at his keyboard with more aggression than usual. Harry has some nerve to imply that he is too stupid to see through Sharon’s lies, call him a pushover, and then say that no one in the office respects him. Louis types away in a frenzy, fueled by his outrage at Harry’s comments.

“Someone’s working hard,” a cheerful voice says, much lighter and friendlier than Harry’s.

Louis looks up from his document, forcing a smile to his face as his boss, Liam, walks by his desk. Liam has his coat and bag in hand, presumably on his way out of the office for the weekend.

“A couple of things before I go,” Liam says, holding up two fingers. “One, the weekly report and meeting agenda-”

“Consider it done,” Louis interrupts to assure him. “Meeting agenda will be ready before I leave today and I’ll have the full report on your desk by end of day Monday.”

“Perfect,” Liam nods, ticking down one finger. “Two, we were thinking it would be good to do some kind of company social. Something good for morale, you know? It’s been a while since the merger, but things haven’t really… merged.”

That is an understatement. Payne Publishing House and Horan Press had been rival publishing houses for years before the merger. Economic downturn and generally less consumer interest in books as technology advanced had led to both publishers facing hard times. The solution was the combination of the two companies, something that neither team took very well. There was too much history of rivalry and competition to come together smoothly.

Besides, the way each company had run was basically incompatible. The Horans were uptight and rigid, making endless rules and following them all to a tee. The Paynes were more laid back, believing that publishing was a creative field and that creativity could only come about when there was space to do so. Still, the biggest sign that the companies had been unsuccessful in merging into one entity was that it was run by two CEOs who each had their own personal assistants, Louis and Harry. Neither CEO had been able to compromise on the job, and upon agreeing to co-CEO neither would compromise on their assistants either.

“Brainstorm some ideas, will you?” Liam is saying with a shrug. “Something that will bring people together.”

“Absolutely,” Louis says.

Liam smiles, eyes crinkling. “Great. Have a good weekend, Louis. Don’t stay too late - I’ll see you on Monday.”

Louis waves goodbye to Liam, then returns to his work. There are a few other editors who haven’t turned in their reports either, so he sends each of them a firm but friendly reminder. He gets as much of his own summary report completed as possible without those missing pieces, and then begins the process of logging off.

Harry is still in his boss’ office, which is interesting. Usually, Louis might feel a competitive streak urging him to stay at work later than Harry. But today, Louis is pissed off and his own boss has already bid him goodbye, so he doesn’t see much point in it.

He shuts down his computer, packs up his bag, and does a quick tidying up of his desk. The smiley face sticky note from earlier is still stuck to his monitor; he crumples it and tosses it into the trash. As he heads towards the elevator, curiosity gets the better of him. He walks over to Harry’s desk instead, peeking at what Harry had written on his own note. In all capital letters, it reads: I WON.

Louis scowls, pulling it from Harry’s monitor and crumpling it up as well. There really is nothing and no one that he hates more than Harry Styles.

-

Louis’ mum calls the next morning, like she has every Saturday morning ever since Louis first moved out back in his first year of uni. But it’s only recently that she’s started to feign surprise at his lack of weekend plans and fret about his social life.

“It’s such a lovely day out,” she is saying now, trying to make a point about how Louis should go out and do something, anything. “Going outside sounds nice. Maybe a walk, or an outdoor brunch, or even just a quick coffee run.”

“It is a beautiful day,” Louis agrees, walking over to the window of his tiny flat to squint out into the sunshine. Usually this early in March, the weather is still cold and biting. Last year, there wasn’t a proper warm and sunny day until well into April.

“Do you have any plans?” Louis’ mum asks, although he is sure she already knows the answer. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Don’t worry, mum,” he assures her while doing his best to dodge a direct answer. “You aren’t keeping me from anything.”

“You still haven’t heard back from Oli?”

Louis presses his lips together, swallowing a pang of disappointment. “No,” he says, doing his best to sound casual and unbothered. “I’m sure he’s busy with the new job and all that.”

Oli had been Louis’ self-proclaimed best friend at work, and truthfully, Louis’ best friend ever. Back before the merger, it was Oli who had brightened Louis’ days at Payne Publishing House. Louis had always been passionate about books and publishing, but it was Oli’s presence that made going to work each day something to look forward to.

Unfortunately, the merge with Horan Press had brought with it a massive round of job cuts. The two companies were both struggling as it was, and although combining their forces was a strategic move to save both, there were simply too many employees to keep everyone once the merge was complete. Oli had been one of many who had lost his job due to the merger.

After Oli was told that he was being let go, his friendship with Louis had crumbled. Louis was the personal assistant to one of the co-CEO’s of the company, and Oli didn’t believe that Louis hadn’t stood up for him to try to save his job or at least given him a heads up that the cut was coming. But Louis truly hadn’t known. Harry had been the one who handled all of the lay-offs, and he had kept Louis completely in the dark about whose jobs were being cut or kept. It was the second reason that Louis hated Harry so much.

Louis’ mum hums in disapproval. “And what about Harry, how is he doing?”

“ Mum ,” Louis reprimands, which is no way to talk to his mother. In any other situation, she would scold him for it.

“I know, I know,” his mum says instead, followed by some soft tutting sounds. “You’ve told me dozens of times that things are different now. But he was such a sweet boy, that Harry Styles. Can you really blame me for checking in on him?”

“Yes,” Louis says flatly, making her laugh.

“Alright, if you say so,” she concedes. She doesn’t push the matter, launching into a story about his younger siblings and all of their various plans for the weekend.

Louis listens happily enough, but his mind lingers on what his mum had said. He was such a sweet boy, that Harry Styles. The thing is, it’s true. Harry had been a sweet boy. That’s the first reason that Louis hates Harry Styles. They used to be best friends.

-

On Monday, the weekly all-hands meeting starts off just like any other. Everyone gathers in the large conference room on the third floor, making small talk and sipping their cups of coffee. 

Louis makes a point of talking to as many people as possible, throwing in small details that make them feel like he has personally remembered them. (If he studies a document of notes on everyone before the meeting, that’s no one’s business but his own.) He asks Leana from Sales how her fiance is doing, tells Kathy from HR that he loved the documentary she recommended, checks in with Dave from Marketing about his kids. Louis has just struck up a brief conversation with someone he doesn’t know as well, Zayn from Design, about his weekend when Liam claps his hands together at the front of the room to get everyone’s attention.

Louis breathes a sigh of relief as the chatter quiets down and everyone finds their seats. He likes meeting new people, but Zayn from Design had really been floundering to answer how he spent his weekend. There was only so far that Louis’ charm could carry the conversation, especially considering he hadn’t done anything with his own weekend besides sleep through most of the documentary that Kathy had recommended.

“Thank you, everyone,” Niall says, although Liam had been the one to call the room to order. The trouble with having two co-CEO’s is that they were constantly trying to one-up each other, much like their executive assistants.

“Yes,” Liam agrees, “thank you all.”

“We have a couple of big announcements that we’d like to kick off today’s meeting with,” Niall tells the room with a smug look.

Louis clicks his pen nervously, looking down at the printed agenda in front of him. He had been the one to type up the agenda, but neither of the co-CEO’s had been willing to tell him what the announcements would be in advance, and Niall is looking entirely too pleased right now.

Liam smiles thinly. “First of all, we’ve decided to open a new position in the lead team - Chief Operating Officer.”

 Niall swoops in as Liam pauses for effect. “We’ll be considering both internal and external candidates, so be sure to apply and tell your friends. Priority deadline for applications is the end of next week.”

Louis realizes his jaw has gone slack in shock. He closes his mouth as Niall and Liam go back and forth to relay more information about the job description. The role would be one rank above his current position, and practically level with the co-CEOs themselves. Louis likes his current job well enough, but he has always wanted to be more involved in publishing. This would be an incredible opportunity to do so, and his experience as Liam’s executive assistant is the perfect background to prepare him for it.

“Any questions?” Liam asks, looking expectantly at his audience. Louis thinks that Liam gives him a meaningful glance, but it’s so fleeting that he can’t be entirely sure.

“I have a question.”

The voice is deep and slow, and at the sound of it, Louis goes still. He had been so focused on himself that he had nearly forgotten about Harry. They have similar experience in the publishing world as far as Louis knows, and have both been excelling at their current positions. If Harry also wants this promotion, it’s going to be a close race.

“If the hire is internal, how would that affect the company structure?” Harry asks. “Would there then be another job opening for their position or some kind of reorganization?”

Harry is sitting at the very front of the room, close enough for Niall to enthusiastically clap him on the back. “That’s exactly the kind of thinking ahead that we’re looking for in our COO.”

“To answer your question,” Liam says, raising an eyebrow at Niall, “it does depend on which position the internal hire comes from, so we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. It’s likely that the COO will have a say in determining the best course of action.”

Harry nods, and when Liam asks for any other questions, he takes the opportunity to look around behind him and meet Louis’ gaze. This isn’t a game like the Mirror Game that they’ve played before, but Louis has the distinct sense that Harry has won the first round.

“On to our second announcement,” Niall says when no one else speaks up with further questions about the COO opening. “We’ll be having a one day company retreat this Friday. Dress comfortably and come ready to play some paintball.”

Louis grimaces, but this announcement isn’t a total surprise to him. He had pitched his ideas for team-bonding activities to Liam and Niall earlier, but Harry’s paintball idea had won out. In fairness, paintball was much more physical and engaging than any of Louis’ suggestions had been. He can acknowledge that and still be bitter about the whole thing.

“We’ll be taking a bus from the office at 9:30AM sharp, so be sure to be here on time,” Liam says. “Harry will be the one in charge of organizing, so find him later if you have any questions.”

“If paintball isn’t really our thing…?” Zayn asks.

Niall shakes his head. “Everyone is expected to attend. Even if for some reason you aren’t able to physically participate, you are still expected to be there.”

Zayn nods, but he doesn’t look particularly happy about it. Louis feels similarly.

Liam and Niall launch into the rest of the agenda, the typical updates about how the sales have been, upcoming projects, and forecasts for the future. Louis doesn’t pay much attention, already thinking about what changes he ought to make to his resume and what else he can do to stand out.

Zayn pulls him aside after the meeting has ended, saying with a sheepish chuckle, “I didn’t do a very good job of answering your question earlier, did I?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Harry slip quickly out of the room without talking to anyone, probably off to get a head start on his own resume updates. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Louis tells Zayn dismissively, then hurries out of the room as well.

This time, Louis will not let Harry win.

-

Louis chats with Liam after the all-hands meeting and gets his approval to devote some of his time to preparing his application for COO. Liam is fully supportive of him, and tells him that he genuinely thinks Louis would be the best fit for the job.

With Liam’s blessing, Louis puts the rest of his day towards revising his resume. He has been at Payne Publishing House (now Payne & Horan Publishing) for years, so his resume is extremely out of date. Plus, his job description and title has changed quite a few times while he has worked here. Once Louis has a satisfactory draft, he searches up some keywords that could help him to stand out more and then goes back to fit them in.

It’s almost the end of the workday when his computer dings with a new email - Sharon has finally sent him the necessary updates for him to complete the weekly report. Reluctantly, Louis saves and closes his resume and opens up the document where his draft of the report is. Switching gears to a new task is always tricky, so he stands and stretches before heading downstairs for a tea. Once he has a quick break, he’ll be ready to dive into the weekly report.

Louis is waiting for his tea to steep when the door to the breakroom swings open. He glances up, ready to cheerfully greet whichever of his coworkers has walked in, then falters as he sees Harry entering.

“Oh,” Harry says, looking surprised. “Hi. Didn’t expect to see you here, but I guess I should have figured. Big report due today, right?”

Louis grits his teeth. Coming from anyone else, it might’ve sounded friendly. But Louis knows Harry’s stance on him staying late because he once again accommodated Sharon’s excuses. “Yep.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just carefully navigates around where Louis is glowering into his steeping mug of tea to get to the back of the room. There, he rummages around inside the office fridge before emerging with a plastic carton of strawberries in hand. “Want a strawb?”

“What?”

“A strawberry. Do you want one?”

“No.”

“Or more than one. You could have a few, if you wanted.”

“No, thank you.”

“You said your family has a strawberry farm, right?”

Louis winces at the lie. “Yep.”

“That’s nice,” Harry says, and Louis bristles at his patronizing tone. His family doesn’t even own a strawberry farm, but he’s still insulted by it. Before he can speak up on behalf of his family’s fake strawberry farm, Harry continues, “No one in my family has a green thumb at all. Killed every plant we ever had. It’s just plants though - my sister is a doctor now, so she’s actually quite good with other living things.”

Louis feels a twinge of nostalgia. He remembers Harry’s sister, Gemma. She had originally wanted to be a vet, back when they were all children. It’s good to hear that she accomplished a similar dream. Still, Louis isn’t sure why exactly Harry is telling him this - to rub in the fact that he has a doctor in his family and Louis’ family is farmers?

“Cool,” Louis says.

Harry shakes his head, seeming to remember himself. It’s not like them to make small talk about their families after all. “So, what’d you think of the announcement today?”

“The COO position?” Louis clarifies, and Harry nods. “Sounds like the job I had always hoped for, when I first got into publishing.” And then because that answer felt a little too vulnerable, he adds teasingly, “Plus, it would be so satisfying to be your boss.”

Harry laughs. “Oh? I don’t think I could work under you. I’d have to quit if you got the promotion.”

Louis is stunned. “You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit ?”

 “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.”

“I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.”

“Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?”

“That would be my job, so yeah.”

Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “Good thing this won’t even matter,” he says primly, “since I’ll be the one to get the job.”

“We’ll see about that,” Harry says.

Louis grabs his tea, turns on his heel, and goes back upstairs to his desk

 When Harry returns to his own desk across from Louis’ a few minutes later, Louis glances up once, is met with a sharp, strawberry-stained grin, and then avoids looking at him for the entire rest of the day.

-

To no one’s surprise, Louis had ended up staying late at work to get the report done. It throws off his whole routine, making him catch worse traffic getting home and hit the dinner rush at his usual go-to takeout place. All of those delays cause it to be later when he gets to bed, and that plus the long workday are what he will blame for the dreams he has that night.

They are alone in the break room again, and it’s exactly the same and yet totally different. Everything is a little fuzzy around the edges, but maybe that’s just because of how the air feels thick with tension.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Harry is saying, the words slow and deliberate. He takes a bite of a plump strawberry as he waits for Louis’ answer, and a trail of juice drips from his lips.

“Like what?” Louis asks.

“Me, being your boss. You’d have to do anything that I told you to do. No matter how much work I gave you or how unreasonable it was. You’d do it.”

“Of course I’d do it. It would be my job to.”

“You’d do such a good job, wouldn’t you?” Harry finishes his strawberry, his green eyes locked on Louis as he licks his lips. Everything else is a little hazy, but Harry’s eyes are piercingly clear. “You’d be such a good boy for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I-” Louis stammers. “I’d just be doing my job.”

Harry steps forward then, crowding into Louis’ space. Louis stumbles backwards, trapped against the counter as Harry comes closer still and braces his arms on either side of Louis’ body.

“Harry,” Louis says, but it comes out more like a plea than a reprimand.

“I’d work you,” Harry whispers lowly, his lips brushing the shell of Louis’ ear, “so, fucking, hard, Louis.”

And then, inexplicably, they are no longer in the break room. Harry clears his desk with one careless sweep of his arm, sending his own neatly organized notes, office supplies, and even his monitor crashing to the floor. Completely unfazed by the destruction, he lifts Louis by his bum onto the desk with ease. He stands between Louis’ legs, his mouth against Louis’ neck as his fingers unbutton Louis’ shirt and trail down his chest.

“Gonna work you so, fucking, hard,” Harry whispers again. He finally has Louis’ shirt fully unbuttoned and slides it off. He palms over Louis’ crotch for a moment, where he is indeed so, fucking, hard.

Harry steps back then, just enough to guide Louis so that he is flipped around, bent over Harry’s desk for him. He can feel Harry press up against him, hard against Louis’ ass. Harry reaches a hand around to undo his trousers and take his dick in his hand. After so much build-up, it feels incredible. Louis rocks into his hand and back against his hips, overcome with need.

Louis wakes up with a gasp, eyes flying open. He is facedown and sweating, grinding against his mattress without realizing it. Breathing hard, he untangles himself from his sheets and rolls over onto his back.

It’s not uncommon for him to dream about work, especially when he has had a particularly long or exciting day. But never has he ever had a dream about Harry Styles, especially not a dream like that.

He feels disgusted and horrified at himself for it. Even if Harry wasn’t his nemesis, he’s a coworker . Dreaming about any of his coworkers like that is horribly inappropriate. And to make it worse, it’s Harry , who he hates more than anyone.

But he’s also still hard and so horny. Maybe there’s something to be said for hate sex. He tries to go back to sleep for five valiant minutes before he gives in. No one will know , he tells himself. Just one quick wank. With that reassurance, he allows his mind to wander back to the scenario, hand pumping his dick quickly until he comes.

It’s the most satisfying wank he’s had in a long while.

-

The next morning, Louis hesitates in front of his closet. There isn’t a dress code at Payne & Horan Publishing, and he usually opts for sweaters or tracksuits to wear to work. Today though, he fiddles with the hangers of his formal suits. Maybe if he wants to be COO, he should start dressing the part. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with wearing a button-down in his dream.

After another moment deliberating, Louis takes a suit from his closet and puts it on.

Unfortunately, the suit turns out to be a mistake.

As Louis is entering the building, he pauses to hold the door open for Jen from Data Analytics. She is still a short distance away, but is also juggling her keys, her laptop, some papers, a water bottle, and an iced coffee all in her hands.

“Thanks, Louis,” she calls out gratefully as she rushes towards him. “My tote bag broke on the way in,” she explains. “Ripped right down the seam.”

“No problem,” Louis says. “Sounds like a rough start to the day.”

In her hurry to reach the door, Jen trips as she approaches. She falls into Louis, sending her various belongings flying. Her papers go fluttering awry, her laptop crashes to the concrete, and her iced coffee spills all down Louis’ front.

“Oh my gosh,” Jen gasps, steadying herself before dropping to the ground to check on her laptop. “My laptop, your shirt… I’m so sorry, Louis! I should have just made multiple trips from my car.”

Louis’ chest is soaked, but Jen is clearly having a much worse day than he is. “It’s okay,” he assures her. “Just a shirt. Is your computer okay?”

“It works. It’s just dented, I think,” she says. “Gosh, I’m so sorry again.”

“Need a hand?” Zayn from Design walks up with some papers that had fluttered away, and kneels to help her gather the rest of her things. “I can help you carry some of this to your desk, if you want,” he offers. With a grin at Louis, he adds, “I’m at least on the same floor as you.”

“Just because I’m on a different floor doesn’t mean I can’t help,” Louis defends, but he’s smiling.

“Did you hear that, Jen?” Zayn asks, continuing with the joke. “Turns out, he’s just like us.”

Jen laughs, and so does Louis. It’s been a long time since anyone at work really included him. He makes small talk with everyone, of course, but it’s different to feel like you’re on the inside.

Zayn smiles shyly, and as they all walk Jen to her desk, she takes over the conversation by regaling them with how chaotic her morning has been so far.

Once Jen is settled and has thanked them both again, Zayn turns to Louis. “Hey, um,” he glances down briefly before meeting Louis’ eyes again. “I think I have a spare shirt at my desk, if you wanted to borrow it. It’s just a tee, but might be better than uh…”

Louis chuckles, looking down at himself. The iced coffee has already started to dry in a dark brown stain. “That would be great, actually.”

Zayn nods, motioning for Louis to follow him.

 “Very prepared of you,” Louis comments, just to say something. “I don’t keep a spare usually, but it’s a good idea.”

It works to get the conversation going. As Zayn leads the way to his desk, he explains how he used to sometimes go to the gym after work and would want a spare shirt to change into.

“Whoa,” Louis interrupts in surprise as they approach Zayn’s desk. “You uh… redecorating?”

Zayn’s desk is near the main elevator, so Louis passes by it at least once most days. His area used to be decked out with art and decorations, fitting for someone in the Design department. Now, though, his station is barren. The wall in front of the desk has been stripped of the posters that it previously sported and the desk itself is empty other than a monitor.

Zayn tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t mean to be rude by pointing it out, but it looks… well.” Louis cringes, trying not to insult Zayn’s empty workspace. “You used to have all this cool art. Would brighten my day whenever I walked by.”

“I can’t believe you noticed,” Zayn says, looking bashful. He rummages around in his desk drawer, which does still seem to have a fair amount of miscellaneous things inside of it. “You’re lucky I’ve still got this spare shirt. Put my two weeks in last Wednesday, so I’ve been slowly starting to clean things up.”

“Really? I had no idea,” Louis says, taking the shirt that Zayn hands to him. “Mind me asking why?”

“Oh, sure.” Zayn smiles, and it’s the first time Louis has seen him smile fully, teeth and all. “I’ve been freelancing on the side, and it’s finally gotten big enough for me to support myself. Be my own boss and all that.”

“Wow,” Louis says, genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing. I mean, from what I’ve seen of your designs, can’t say I’m surprised. But really happy for you. That’s huge.”

“Thanks, Louis.” Zayn nods, cheeks tinged pink.

There is a beat of silence then, which feels inexplicably tense.

“Well, hey, thanks-” Louis starts to say.

“I’ve been meaning to ask-” Zayn says at the same moment.

Louis cuts himself off. “Yeah?”

Zayn shakes his head quickly. “Nah, nevermind. Um, about the shirt - anytime.”

“Right,” Louis says, lifting the shirt up a little as if it needs emphasizing. “Yeah, thanks again.”

The office has an open floor plan, and his conversation with Zayn has gotten awkward enough as it is. Both of these facts mean it would be very weird if Louis was to change right there by Zayn’s desk. He gives Zayn a quick wave before heading to the bathroom to quickly swap his shirt and maybe even soak his button-down in some water.

He’s standing in front of the mirror just about to put Zayn’s shirt on when the bathroom door swings open.

The person who enters clears their throat, and Louis hastily tugs the tee over his head so that he’s no longer shirtless.

“Playing dress-up in the bathroom?” Of course, just Louis’ luck, it’s Harry. 

“Shut up, Harry.”

“You look uh…” Harry trails off, seemingly unable to find the right insult. “What’s the occasion?”

Louis scowls in the mirror. Zayn is slimmer than he is, and the shirt fits him rather tightly. Combined with the professional slacks he is wearing, the overall outfit comes off looking like he is trying to make a statement - especially since his usual attire is tracksuits and cozy sweaters.

Harry is still standing by the door, looking at him with an odd expression on his face. “Tell me,” he pushes. “You got a date tonight or something?”

“Maybe I do,” Louis snaps.

“Really,” Harry says dryly. The way he says it isn’t even a question, as if it’s completely unbelievable that Louis could possibly have a date.

Admittedly, it has been a rather long time since Louis has dated. But Harry doesn’t need to know that and he certainly doesn’t get to make any judgments about it. “Really.”

Before Harry can say anything else, Louis pushes past him out of the bathroom. He goes to get settled at his desk and very pointedly avoids looking at Harry when he returns to his own desk a few minutes later.

-

“You seem tense,” Harry observes from across the room during their lunch break.

“I am not in the mood,” Louis warns. “I had weird dreams all night and it’s been a rough morning, too.”

“Having nightmares about losing to me already?”.

Louis presses his lips together, hating how close he is to the mark. “Not everything is about you, Harry.”

“What did you dream about then?”

Louis only falters a little. “My date.”

“Right, of course,” Harry says disbelievingly. “Tell me about this date of yours.”

Louis looks up from his monitor to glare at Harry. It’s foolish of him to let this lie go any further, but at this point he would be even more embarrassed to admit that he actually doesn’t have a date. “You get one question.”

Harry’s features turn surprised then pleased. “Where are you going?”

Louis’ shoulders relax in relief. That’s an easy enough question to make up an answer to. “That new sports bar on Federal.”

A cat-like grin spreads slowly on Harry’s face. Louis has a sinking feeling that he isn’t going to like whatever Harry says next. “What a coincidence,” Harry says smoothly. “I have plans to go there tonight, too.”

Louis fights to keep the horror from showing on his face. “Cool,” he says, his tone clipped. “Guess we’ll see you there.”

Harry smirks. “See you there.”

-

Louis sneaks downstairs while Harry is in a meeting with Niall. He hesitates by the elevator, glancing over at where Zayn is focused on the screen in front of him.

The thing is, Zayn is objectively extremely attractive. He has long dark hair, kind brown eyes, and plenty of visible tattoos which has always been a weakness for Louis. If independent graphic design doesn’t work out for him, he could absolutely be a model instead. Plus, Zayn is leaving the company soon which means there won’t be any issues with them working together. Not that Louis thinks it will get that far, but it’s good to think ahead.

Louis takes a few steadying deep breaths before gathering the courage to walk over.

“Hey, Zayn.”

Zayn looks up, a small smile appearing on his lips at the sight of Louis. “Hi, Louis,” he says, adding jokingly, “Nice shirt.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Louis chuckles. “Hey, listen, I was wondering…”

Zayn looks expectantly at him.

“Would you maybe want to grab a drink tonight? With me?” Louis bites his lip, cringing at himself. He is woefully out of practice in the realm of dating.

Fortunately, Zayn’s face lights up at the question. “I’d love to.”

Louis feels a huge weight lifted from his chest. “Great,” he says. “Meet you at the sports bar on Federal at seven?”

“It’s a date,” Zayn says, and it is.

-

Louis has two problems: 1) it’s pouring rain, and 2) Harry hasn’t left yet. It’s days like this that make him hate the unpredictable New York weather. And it’s every day that he hates Harry.

The bar he has chosen for his date with Zayn is close enough to walk to from the office. That’s the main reason Louis even knows of the bar; he usually only frequents places that are within walking distance from work or from home. But the news station playing in the breakroom earlier had described today’s weather as a torrential downpour - definitely not the kind of weather to take a long walk in.

Not to mention that Louis is going on a date. It’s going to be so embarrassing to show up not only still wearing Zayn’s shirt, but also soaking wet.

Louis had popped downstairs to catch Zayn and ask if they could carpool over together around 6pm, but Zayn was nowhere to be found. He must have healthier work-life balance than Louis or Harry, neither of whom have left the office before 6pm in years.

It’s just past 6:30pm when Louis sighs as he realizes that Harry is going to win this round of their latest game, Who Can Work the Latest. If he leaves now, maybe he can make it before 7pm and try his best to dry off in the men’s bathrooms before Zayn gets there.

Louis logs off from his computer and starts packing up, noticing belatedly that Harry is doing the same. Had a round of the Mirror Game started without him noticing?

Once his bag is packed, Louis heads over to the elevator. Harry follows, standing right next to him. When the elevator doors ding open, Harry holds out an arm to make sure they stay open. “After you.”

“Thanks,” Louis mutters, stepping inside and pressing the L button.

“Lobby?” Harry asks incredulously as he follows, pressing one of the buttons for the underground parking structure. “Surely even you aren’t stubborn enough to walk in this weather.”

“It’s not like I look particularly good right now anyways,” Louis says. “No fancy outfit to worry about ruining or whatever.”

“I meant that you’ll be cold, wet, and miserable,” Harry corrects. “You’ll catch your death. Plus, yeah, you would look worse too.”

“Gee, thanks.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “Louis, come on. I’ll give you a ride. We’re going to the same place anyways, aren’t we? Sports bar on Federal?”

“No, thank you,” Louis says. “I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity.” Harry looks offended. “We’re literally coming from the same place and going to the same place. It just makes sense.”

“I said no.”

Harry exhales harshly. He pushes the emergency stop button and the elevator comes to a screeching halt, just before the lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Louis snaps, turning to face Harry fully and glare at him. He reaches to press the button again, but Harry catches his wrist to stop him.

“Just talk to me,” Harry says. “Why are you being so weird? You’re acting like the worst thing about the rain is that it will make you look worse. And if you’re worried so much about looking bad, why won’t you take the lift that I’m offering you?”

“If you must know,” Louis says, yanking his wrist free from Harry’s grasp. “I haven’t been on a date in a while, and this one was rather last minute. I just wish I looked better, alright? And I don’t want help from you.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows together. “You look fine.”

Louis sighs. “Yes. I look fine. But it’s a date . I want to look better than fine. I want to look… irresistible, you know? Like so good that it just takes one look at me to have someone falling all over themselves to kiss me senseless.”

“You look irresistible every day,” Harry deadpans.

Louis groans. “You are such a shit.” He shoves Harry’s shoulder in annoyance, then bangs a fist over the emergency stop button to get the elevator moving again.

Harry moves so quickly that Louis can barely process what is happening. First, he presses the emergency stop button again, the elevator having barely moved an inch. Then, he backs Louis up against the elevator wall and presses their lips together.

Louis can’t make sense of what is happening, not with Harry’s hand gently cupping his cheek and his stubble brushing against Louis’ chin. Louis wants to kiss him back, so he does.

Once Louis returns the kiss, it becomes a new game between them, filled with the same competition and drive. Harry moves his hands briefly to Louis’ ass, hoisting him up onto the metal railing and stepping between his legs. It was a bold move, but the new angle sets Louis up to get him back for it. Harry is forced to tilt his head upwards, leaving him at a disadvantage to initiate anything further. It feels like Louis is the one in full control, taking anything and everything that he wants from Harry’s lips. To his credit, Harry kisses him back like he is trying to ruin him for all future kisses; and he just might succeed.

A buzz of static startles them, and Harry hastily sets Louis down and steps back as a tinny voice comes through the elevator speaker. “Is everything alright in there?”

“Um, yes,” Harry says, before he realizes there is a button to press in order to talk back. He presses it, then repeats, “Yes, we’re alright. Must have… bumped the button.”

Whoever is on the other end doesn’t seem to care, because they don’t say anything further.

Harry gets the elevator going again, and neither of them move a muscle when the doors ding open at the lobby. Once the elevator reaches the parking garage, Louis rushes out first, whirling around to face Harry.

“What the hell was that?”

“I told you that you look irresistible every day. You didn’t believe me. And I know how stubborn you are - you would never have believed it. So, I showed you.” Harry shrugs. “Besides, I had a theory to test.”

Louis has no idea what to say to that. “A theory?”

“Yep.”

“What was the theory?”

Harry clicks his keys and a black sedan in front of them lights up as it unlocks. Instead of answering, he says, “Let me give you a ride.”

“Tell me what the theory is first.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Harry says. “If I told you, it might mess things up. Science, you know?”

“Fine.”

“What’s your address?”

It’s a stupid question and a much-needed distraction, because Harry’s car smells incredible. Louis takes a deep breath as subtly as he can. “You don’t need my address. We’re going to the bar, remember?”

“Really?”

“What do you mean, really? Yes, really. I have a date , remember?”

Harry’s face blanches. “You actually have a date? I thought you were lying about that.”

It was originally a lie, but Louis isn’t going to admit that. He relishes in the pure shock on Harry’s face. He isn’t sure what game this is part of, but it feels like he has won a round. “Yes, I actually have a date. You know him actually - it’s with Zayn.”

“Zayn,” Harry echoes stiffly as he starts to drive. “From Design?”

“Yes. But he’s leaving the company soon,” Louis clarifies, “so it’s fine.” He wants to make sure that Harry knows there isn’t any ammo here to use against him, especially since they’re competing for a promotion.

“Right,” Harry says. There’s a long pause before he adds, “I didn’t realize the two of you even really knew each other.”

Louis scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me, Harry. In fact, you probably barely even know anything about me.”

Harry shrugs. “I’m observant. And I’m with you every weekday for 8 hours a day, if not more.”

“Well, maybe you aren’t as observant as you think,” Louis says. “I’m literally wearing his shirt right now.”

Harry doesn’t say anything to that, and he doesn’t look over at Louis either. He just grips the steering wheel firmly and stares fixedly straight ahead.

When Harry pulls up to the curb in front of the bar a few minutes later, he still won’t look at Louis. “Before you go…”

Louis pauses, having already started reaching for the door handle. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Harry says, and he really does sound remorseful. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I understand if you want to report it.”

“Report it?”

“To HR.”

“Oh, right.”

“Um. I hope your date goes well.”

“Yeah, thanks. And thanks for the ride.”

Louis gets out of the car, bewildered. The rain hasn’t let up at all, so he dashes quickly inside. 

Zayn is sitting at the bar already, an amber-colored drink in front of him as he taps at his phone. He looks up when Louis enters and waves, his face immediately brightening. “Louis, hi!”

“Hi,” Louis says, taking the seat next to him. He tries to push any thoughts of Harry out of his mind by focusing on his date instead. Zayn’s hair is styled with gel and he is dressed in a sleek black button down shirt. “You look really nice,” Louis compliments. Then, feeling bad, he adds, “I’m sorry that I’m late. And that I didn’t get a chance to change after work.”

“Not at all,” Zayn waves his apology away. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad that you suggested this. I’d actually wanted to ask you out for a while.”

Louis blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“You’re wonderful, Louis. I think I just could never work up the nerve to ask because I was too in awe of you.”

Unexpectedly, Louis feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. All he ever hears lately are insults from Harry - saying that he has no self-respect, that he’s stubborn, that he’s stupid, or that he’s a pushover. He didn’t realize how much it would mean to him to hear genuine and kind words of affirmation.

“Louis?”

Louis fights to keep his voice steady. “Thanks, Zayn. I had no idea that you thought that.”

“Are you kidding? You’re incredible. You do so much, and you handle it all so well.”

Louis clears his throat abruptly, feeling absolutely mortified at the way he is on the brink of crying. “Will you excuse me for a sec? Sorry.”

Without waiting for Zayn’s answer, Louis hurries towards the bathroom. He isn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he rounds the corner because he is busy wiping his eyes dry. So when he collides with another body, it comes as a complete shock. Discovering that the person he has collided with is Harry is an even worse shock.

“What are you doing here?”

“Whoa, are you okay?” Harry has reached out to steady him, hands gently holding Louis by his upper arms. “I was lying before about meeting friends here because I thought you were lying about your date. But you forgot your coat in my car - I was just bringing it in to you.”

Louis snatches the coat from Harry with a sniff. “Thanks,” he mutters, pulling back to be able to get around Harry.

“Hey,” Harry says, sidestepping to block his path. “Are you okay? You’re crying, Louis. Is it because of Zayn? I’ll kill him, I swear it.”

“It’s not because of Zayn ,” Louis hisses. He shoves Harry out of the way to be able to get past him. “It’s because of you . Zayn is here being perfectly lovely and nice, but I can’t even take a compliment anymore without turning into a mess because all I ever hear from you is how stupid and stubborn I am.”

Harry’s brows furrow and his mouth opens, but no words come out. Based on the look on face, Louis thinks he has once again won a round of some game between them. He doesn’t feel like a winner, though. He just feels drained and confused.

Harry doesn’t stop him as he pushes past him to the bathroom this time. When he emerges after having splashed some water on his face, Harry is nowhere to be found.

-

Zayn is indeed perfectly lovely and nice throughout the date. He politely doesn’t comment on Louis’ breakdown at the start at all, and they have great conversations as they get to know each other better. At the end of the night, Zayn helps to flag down a cab for Louis and slips the driver some cash beforehand to cover the fare. He gives Louis a tentative, chaste kiss goodbye and says shyly that they should do it again sometime. It’s sweet and kind and wonderful.

Louis feels like an asshole for only being able to think of the all-consuming kiss he shared with Harry in the elevator earlier.

He feels so conflicted about the whole situation that he sleeps horribly that night, and calls Liam in the morning to take a personal day. He hasn’t taken a day off since his mum’s birthday months ago, so of course Liam readily approves it.

“Definitely, Louis,” Liam says. “Take the day, for sure. Is it the stress of the promotion application?”

“No, it’s not that. Just… personal stuff,” Louis explains.

“Right, of course,” Liam says. “Will you be back tomorrow? It’s Friday - and paintball day.”

Louis isn’t particularly excited to play paintball, but it does seem like an activity that would look good for the future COO to participate in. Plus, he’d never take off two days in a row. “I’ll be there.”

Louis enjoys his day off to the fullest, lounging around his apartment and binging tv shows to keep his mind off of his current problems.

A few hours in, he gets an unexpected delivery. It’s a bouquet of gorgeous red roses. The card reads, “you’re amazing”.

Louis can’t help but smile at the gesture. There isn’t a signature, but he knows who it’s from. He texts Zayn thank you, and gets an immediate response: of course! had a great time yesterday with you.

Then he goes back to trying his hardest to think about anything else but Harry Styles.

-

Harry is barking out directions when Louis arrives outside the building the next day, a full half hour earlier than he usually arrives. Harry is standing next to a large bus, dressed in the most casual outfit Louis has ever seen him wear, and waving around blank sheets of paper. “Signed waivers, make sure you sign a waiver. Do not get on the bus without giving me your waiver.”

Louis squints at the tinted windows of the bus, trying to see how many people are already on it. He can’t really tell.

“Am I late?” he asks as he approaches Harry, pulling out his phone to check the time.

“Just in time,” Harry tells him briskly, handing him a blank waiver.

Louis takes the waiver, trying not to stare at him. It has nothing to do with their elevator kiss; it’s just that Louis has never seen Harry dressed-down before.

Harry always wears a formal blazer, and cycles through a very specific set of colors and patterns that he owns. Louis could list off Harry’s entire wardrobe in the order he likes to wear it, not that he would ever do so or tell anyone that he could.

Today, Harry is wearing a black fitted tee and loose grey joggers. It’s such a simple outfit, and yet Louis can barely tear his eyes away to focus on the waiver in front of him.

“Once you’ve got that filled out, can you help me count these to make sure I’ve gotten everyone?”

The way Harry has positioned himself directly next to the bus door, Louis doubts that it’s possible for anyone to have gotten on without giving him a waiver. Still, he nods and says, “yeah, of course.”

A few more people turn in their waivers while Louis fills his own out. Once he’s done, Harry hands him the entire stack to count while he steps onto the bus to do a headcount.

“Thirty-one on the bus,” Harry says a moment later, coming back out. “Plus Liam and Niall, who are driving separately, and us.”

“Thirty-five waivers,” Louis confirms. He hesitates as he hands the stack of papers back to Harry. “I thought we had booked for thirty-six?”

“Jen called in sick,” Harry explains.

“Ah.” Louis wishes that he had called in sick again, too. He slept terribly again last night and feels exhausted even though the day has just begun. He doesn’t say that, though, just steps past Harry to get on the bus.

“Liam and Niall asked me to drive up separately to bring snacks and Gatorades,” Harry says abruptly.

“Okay…” Louis says slowly, turning to face him. “Do you need my help?”

“No, I mean. If you wanted to help, you could. Then you could ride with me, if you wanted. Probably more comfortable than the bus.”

Louis thinks about the last time he was alone with Harry in his car and quickly shakes his head. That sounds like a bad idea. “Nah, thanks. I’d like to be with everyone else. Plus, I think Zayn is saving me a seat.”

It’s so fleeting that he nearly misses it, but Louis swears that Harry’s expression darkens for a moment. When he speaks, though, he sounds perfectly pleasant. “Right, of course. See you there then.”

“See you,” Louis says.

He steps onto the bus, and Zayn’s face lights up from a few rows back.

“Hey,” Louis says with a smile as he slides in next to him, “thanks for saving me a spot.”

“Anything for you,” Zayn says genuinely. “Are you feeling better, by the way? You weren’t at work yesterday - I was worried.”

It’s touching, but it’s also kind of a lot given that they’ve only been on one date. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay” Louis explains. “Just haven’t been sleeping well, and I think it took a bit of a toll.”

Zayn looks visibly relieved to hear that. “With how hard it was raining the other night, I thought maybe you’d caught a cold. Anyways, rest up now. It’s an hour drive to the paintball place, isn’t it?”

Louis protests mildly, but taking a nap during the bus ride sounds incredibly appealing. By the time the bus merges onto the highway, Louis has dozed off with his head resting on Zayn’s shoulder.

-

“Can I get everyone’s attention? Eyes up here, please.”

Louis jerks awake at the sound of Harry’s voice. Disoriented, he looks around. He must have fallen deeply asleep because he missed the entire ride; the bus is now parked outside of a large sign that reads Paintball Park in all capital letters. “We’re here already?” he whispers to Zayn.

“Yep. Sleep well?” There’s a soft smile on Zayn’s face, which is really much closer to his own than Louis was expecting. He must have fallen asleep practically on top of Zayn.

Blushing, Louis scoots away slightly to give Zayn back his personal space. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” Zayn assures him.

Harry clears his throat loudly, and when Louis looks up, Harry is staring right back at him with a cross expression on his face. “Attention, please,” Harry repeats curtly.

Zayn ducks his head to whisper in Louis’ ear, “Is he always like this?”

Louis shrugs one shoulder. “Pretty much.”

It feels like Harry is scowling specifically at him as he explains the directions. “Teams are pre-assigned. After you get your gear, you’ll see which team you are on. Aim only below the neck, and if you get shot once, you’re out. It’s basically capture the flag, but you’re defending yourselves with paintball guns. Lunch break is at twelve and the bus is leaving again at three. Don’t be late, and have fun.”

“Geez,” Zayn mutters. “Now that’s someone who could have used a nap on the ride up.”

Louis grins. “Can’t wait to shoot him with a paintball.”

As luck would have it - or rather, as Harry Styles who made the teams would have it - Louis wouldn’t get the chance to shoot Harry with a paintball, since they are on the same team.

“Thought you’d have wanted us to compete against each other,” Louis says as he gets his gear on. There’s a padded vest, gloves, and a faceshield.

Harry shrugs. “Thought you might be mad at me. Would’ve been foolish of me to give you the opportunity to take it out on me via paintballs.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’m not mad, Harry.”

Harry nods, his own clear faceshield bobbing goofily with the movement. “Did you get my apology?”

Louis stops fastening on his protective vest to look at Harry. “What apology?”

“The flowers.”

Louis’ gaze wanders over to where Zayn is already suited up, standing and waiting for him. He had assumed that the flowers were from him. “Oh,” Louis says quietly. “Yeah, I- thank you. I got them.”

“Can we talk?” Harry asks.

Louis feels inexplicably hot all over. “No need,” he says dismissively, yanking on his faceshield so he can make his exit. “Nothing to talk about.”

He makes his way over to where the teams are gathering once they are suited up. Zayn is on the opposing team, so after some quick banter about being ready to kick each other’s asses, they part ways.

Louis is extremely conscious of the fact that he hadn’t had time to eat breakfast that morning. His stomach feels simultaneously queasy and hungry, and the feeling of being hot all over is only getting worse as they start to run around with their paintball guns.

He makes it through the first round without being shot, and spends the fifteen minute water and snack break that they take afterwards chatting with Zayn.

“See you out there!” Zayn says cheerfully as a whistle blows, signaling the end of break and the start of the next round.

Louis gives him a wave, doing his best to look equally cheerful and not like he is about to throw up the granola bar that he just ate.

“You alright? You look awful.”

Louis glares at Harry. “Thanks.”

Harry shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I’m fine,” Louis mutters, because he will be.

He makes it through the second round without being shot as well, though only because Harry shoves him out of the way at one point and guns down Toby from Sales before he has a chance to shoot them.

Eating food during the lunch break makes him feel a lot better, but he is honestly relieved when he finally gets shot in the third round and no longer has to be running around. Zayn is the one who shoots him, and he mouths an apology afterwards.

“I’ll get him back for that, next round,” Harry tells him.

Louis gives him a weird look. “You don’t have to defend my honor. It’s paintball. Shooting each other is kind of the whole point.”

Harry shoots Zayn twice in the next round anyways, calling out a half-hearted “sorry, mate,” after the second shot lands.

“Was that necessary?” Louis hisses.

“What?” Harry asks, playfully innocent. “I thought you said to defend your honor.”

During the fifth and final round, Louis sits next to Zayn on the sidelines since they are both out. He can’t help but watch Harry in action whenever he is in view. It makes sense that Harry would have come up with the idea to do a paintball game as the company bonding activity; he’s a pro. He weaves around the area expertly, shoots with uncanny accuracy, and manages to blend in with the foliage whenever he drops down to take cover. When he emerges from the woods with the opposing team’s flag held high above his head, Louis is not at all surprised.

Their team all surrounds him and cheers him on, before they split off to go around saying “good game” to everyone on the other teams.

“I would say good game to you too,” Louis tells Zayn with a grin, “but you’re the one who shot me.”

Zayn laughs good-naturedly. He pulls Louis in for a one-armed hug, but leaves his arm around him even after they pull slightly apart. “I’ll make it up to you, how’s that?”

Louis might have liked that kind of attention and physical touch if he didn’t feel so clammy and overheated. As it is, he pulls out of Zayn’s grip and calls out, “I’ll hold you to that,” before heading towards the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. As he walks, he gets the feeling that someone is watching him. He pauses, glancing around before finding Harry looking darkly at him.

Louis goes over to him, snapping, “What is wrong with you?”

“With me?” Harry demands. “What is wrong with you? You look terrible.”

Louis scoffs. “You look terrible, too.” It’s a lie. Even though there’s a streak of dirt on Harry’s cheek and a general sheen of sweat all over him, he looks ridiculously good. His hair is all mussed from the day’s events and the way his shirt is clinging to his muscles certainly helps too. Louis does his best to not focus on any of that.

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Again, that’s not what I meant. It’s not an insult, I’m just saying… well, are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Louis honestly feels moments away from passing out, but he doesn’t want to give Harry the satisfaction of being right. “I just need to splash some water on my face, sit down, and rest for a minute. Then I’ll be fine.”

“You were sitting and resting for the entire last round,” Harry points out. “Listen, you don’t have to admit weakness or whatever, but will you at least ride with me on the way back? Surely being on the bus with thirty of our sweaty colleagues isn’t going to make you feel better.” He lowers his voice before adding, “You know Jim from IT never wears deodorant.”

Louis groans. The bus ride back does sound like a rough time, especially since he has been feeling worse and worse ever since lunchtime. “Yeah, alright. That does sound better than the bus.”

By the time Louis is done splashing water on his face and bracing himself against the sink contemplating if he is going to throw up, most of their colleagues have boarded the bus.

“There you are,” Zayn says as Louis walks out to the parking lot. He jogs over to close the short distance between them from where he was standing by the bus doors. “I was looking for you. They’re doing last call to get on the bus back.”

Louis looks over Zayn’s shoulder to where the bus is already running. Harry’s car is parked just behind the bus, and he is leaning against it with his arms crossed as he looks right back at Louis.

“Yeah, sorry I disappeared,” Louis says, running a hand through his hair. “I started feeling sort of sick. Harry said he’d drive me back.”

Zayn looks both surprised and concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m a little worried that I’m going to throw up in his car,” Louis admits, cringing. “But he offered, and I guess it’s better than it happening on the bus.” Behind Zayn, Harry makes a face, causing Louis to chuckle.

Zayn laughs too, probably thinking that Louis is joking. “Well I’m sorry to hear you’re suddenly feeling so sick. Let me know if you need anything, yeah? I can swing by later with some soup if you want.”

“That’s nice of you, but I’ll be okay,” Louis says. “Thanks, though.”

Zayn leans forward, presumably to give him a quick kiss goodbye, and Louis takes a jerky step backwards to avoid it. They do technically work together until 5pm today, after all.

“Wouldn’t want to, uh, get you sick. Just in case,” Louis explains. He gives Zayn an awkward wave goodbye instead and heads towards where Harry is shaking his head as he gets into the driver’s seat of his car.

-

“Are you going to go on another date with him?” Harry asks as he taps in the address Louis has just rattled off to him into the GPS.

“Why does that matter?” Louis asks. “Not gonna drive me home if I say yes?”

Harry gives him a look. “Of course not. You can do whatever you want, obviously. I’m just curious.”

“Sorry,” Louis mutters, grimacing. “I appreciate the ride home. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’m just not feeling well.”

Harry laughs. “Please,” he says. “You snap at me all the time.”

Louis doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he answers the question. “I mean, yeah. I’ll probably go out with him again.”

Harry hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to figure out what you see in him, that’s all. He didn’t even notice that you weren’t feeling well, and I saw you dodge his affection twice today. Yet you’re still interested in him.”

“It’s not his fault that he didn’t notice,” Louis protests. “I was doing my best to hide it. And I’m not really into PDA, especially in front of coworkers whose respect I’m trying to earn.”

“Hate to break it to you, but anyone with eyes could see that you were getting worse all day.”

“No one else seemed to notice,” Louis says, but somehow he isn’t sure it helps his argument. He doesn’t want to think too hard about what it means that Harry is the only one who knew.

“Alright, whatever. So you don’t mind that he somehow couldn’t see that you were turning increasingly pale all day. What else do you like about him?”

“There’s plenty to like,” Louis insists. “He’s kind, thoughtful, and sweet-”

“It was kind and thoughtful and sweet of him to offer to bring you soup. But you said no,” Harry points out.

“Well,” Louis falters. “We’ve only been on one date. It felt like a little much.”

“So what you like isn’t that he’s kind and thoughtful and sweet.”

“No - stop putting words in my mouth,” Louis splutters. “He’s lovely, okay? Lovely and nice, and he really likes me.”

“That’s it, then?” Harry asks. He sounds almost disgusted. “That’s all that you’re looking for? Someone nice who likes you?”

“I’m not looking for anything.” Louis says harshly, affected by the negativity in Harry’s tone. “But sure, if someone nice likes me then why wouldn’t I go out with them?”

Harry shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Louis wants to make Harry explain what he’s going on about, but he also suddenly wants to divulge everything in his stomach. He settles for squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the side of his seat to steady himself.

He must fall asleep, because he doesn’t remember anything else from the drive home. He goes in and out of consciousness for a bit, only later able to recall flashes of moments of Harry carrying him from the car, pestering him to get his unit number and keys, and bringing him into his apartment. There is also one vivid memory of Harry sitting at the side of his bed, gently placing a cool towel over his forehead and singing something soothing. Harry has an incredible singing voice, as it turns out.

When Louis next awakens, it’s to the sound of hushed voices from outside his room.

“You should bring him to the wedding.”

Louis doesn’t recognize the first voice, but the second is definitely Harry. “What? No, no. It’s not like that between us.”

“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t have called me down here if you didn’t care about him. Plus, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him.” 

“I’m not going to the wedding anyways, remember?”

“You should. You’re going to break Gemma’s heart if you don’t go.”

“She’ll understand.”

“Just because she understands, doesn’t mean she won’t be devastated.”

“I’ll think about it. Look, can you please just check on him one more time before you go?”

There are footsteps then, followed by the soft creaking of Louis’ door opening. It takes all his strength to lift his head and look at the two men who enter. Harry walks in first, dressed down once again in a hoodie that looks extremely soft. His hair is rumpled, his beard has grown out a bit, and there are dark shadows under his eyes. Somehow, he still looks incredible. The man who follows him looks much more put together, wearing a matching tracksuit set and with his hair styled carefully upwards.

“Hello, sleeping beauty,” the unfamiliar man says to Louis with a grin. Then, to Harry, “See? He’s doing better already.”

Louis means to say something like “Who are you?” or “What are you doing here?” or  “Don’t call me that”. But everything is a little fuzzy, and if Louis squints he’s pretty sure that the man talking to him is ridiculously attractive. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but based on the man’s pleased laughter and Harry’s exaggerated eye roll to the ceiling, he has.

“Why thank you. I’m Nick, by the way,” the man introduces himself. Louis would feel mortified if he was in his right mind. As it is, he just looks back at Nick curiously as he talks on. “I’m a doctor. You might feel a little out of it right now, but it’s only because we gave you some medicine to help with your fever. Harry here has been out of his mind with worry about you, so he called me to check up on you.”

“Nick,” Harry says warningly.

“What?” Nick asks, arching an eyebrow. “There’s no way in hell you would have voluntarily called me unless you were worried sick.”

Harry makes a face that Louis really wishes he was more coherent to witness. If his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him, he would say that Harry is looking distinctly red around the cheeks.

“There really was no need to call me, though,” Nick tells Harry. To Louis, he explains, “Harry’s done a great job watching over you.”

“Shut up,” Harry mumbles. He has definitely turned an interesting shade of red. “How are you feeling, Louis?”

Louis feels absolutely loopy. “Better, I think,” he answers. “I liked it when you sang to me.”

“Harry does have a great singing voice, doesn’t he?” Nick agrees. “He’s usually pretty shy about it. Took years before he sang in front of me.”

“Enough,” Harry says sternly. “You should go.”

“Why,” Nick asks, seeming entirely unconcerned, “is he the jealous type?” 

“Thank you for your help, now please leave,” Harry says, grabbing Nick’s arm and all but hauling him away from Louis’ bedside.

“Come to the wedding!” Nick calls out as he is forcibly made to exit Louis’ apartment.

Louis wonders how much of that was real and how much he’ll remember. Before Harry has made it back into his room, his eyes have drifted shut once again.

-

The next time Louis wakes up, he feels significantly better. His mind feels clear and he has both the energy and the desire to get out of bed. He’s also starving.

To his surprise, Harry Styles is in his kitchen, cooking up some kind of egg stir fry. Louis’ stomach grumbles in hunger as he enters.

“You’re still here?” Louis asks in bewilderment, looking around.

Harry jerks in surprise, dropping the spatula that he was previously wielding so expertly. It clatters to the tiled floor as Harry gapes in surprise at Louis. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” Louis answers, looking around his apartment. There is a thin blanket rumpled on the couch and an open duffel bag next to it. Harry Styles has absolutely been sleeping in his living room.

Harry has busied himself with placing the spatula in the sink and retrieving another from the drawer next to the sink. He does all of this with a sense of familiarity, knowing exactly where to find another spatula. It’s lucky that he even owns two spatulas, Louis thinks to himself. He mostly sustains himself on takeout and frozen meals.

Belatedly, Louis realizes that he isn’t exactly dressed for company. He hadn’t been expecting any guests when he wandered out of his room and is wearing only a pair of boxers.

“Do you want some food?” Harry asks. “I made enough for both of us.”

“Uh… sure,” Louis says, feeling very far out of his depth. “That would be great. Let me just change first.”

“Right,” Harry says, looking up from the eggs in front of him to do a sweep of Louis’ current state. When he meets Louis’ gaze, he raises an eyebrow and repeats, “Right.”

Louis all but bolts back to his bedroom, both to put on more clothes and to take a moment to wrap his mind around what is going on. He hates Harry Styles. And Harry Styles hates him. That’s just how it’s always been, ever since Payne Publishing House and Horan Press had merged. But if that’s true, why on earth has Harry Styles been crashing in his living room to take care of him?

He thinks about it as he finds a shirt and sweatpants to put on, but he can’t come up with an answer. All he knows is that he has to repay Harry somehow, to make sure that they’re even. There is no way that Louis will ever let Harry hold this over his head.

“Thank you,” is what Louis means to say when he goes back out to the kitchen. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “Did you buy groceries?”

The egg scramble in front of him looks delicious. It also looks like it has fresh vegetables in it, which certainly didn’t come from his fridge.

Harry shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “After I dropped you off the day you got sick, I swung by my place to pick up some essentials.”

Apparently, bell pepper is an essential.

“Thank you,” Louis says, finally getting back on track with what he meant to express. “Not just for the food. For… taking care of me.”

“I hope you don’t mind - I didn’t mean to overstep,” Harry says, eyes wide and earnest. “You should have seen yourself on Friday, Louis. I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Louis nods slowly. He takes a bite of the breakfast Harry has made, and it is indeed just as delicious as it looks and smells.  “I owe you one,” Louis says firmly. “Let me make it up to you. What can I do?”

Harry’s eyebrows knit together, his gaze darkening. “Nothing. I didn’t do this to get anything out of you, Louis.”

“No, I know that,” Louis says quickly. “I just want to return the favor.”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I’d like to.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“What about the wedding?”

Harry is suddenly very still. “What?”

“That wasn’t a dream, was it?” Louis asks. “There was another man here, a doctor. He said something about your sister’s wedding. That you need a plus one? I can do that for you.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just studies Louis with an unnerving intensity.

“If that was a dream,” Louis says, to break the tension, “then I’m going to have to admit… I must have also been dreaming about you singing to me.”

It works, bringing Harry out of his train of thought by startling a laugh out of him. “You weren’t dreaming.”

“So there is a wedding,” Louis says, daring Harry to deny it.

“There is.”

“And you don’t have a plus one.”

“I don’t.”

“Then it’s settled,” Louis decides. “When’s the wedding?”

-

Louis had been worried that the next week at work would be tense or awkward. After all, things between him and Harry have gotten quite complicated. A week ago, they hated each other. There was nothing there but plain and simple hatred. But now, after the searing kiss in the elevator and Harry’s surprising display of kindness in taking care of Louis all weekend, things don’t feel as black and white.

To Louis’ surprise, work feels exactly the same as always.

Louis and Harry play the Mirror Game, the Who Can Stay Later Game, and the I’ll Be a Better COO Than You Game. They do not play the Elevator Kissing Game, though Louis would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that game multiple times since its occurrence. Sharon calls him with an unexpected bout of food poisoning causing her to miss her deadline again and also has the audacity to ask him to make a special internship position for her niece. Louis wishes he had the audacity himself to outright shut her down. Harry tells him as per usual that he ought to.

The only differences from any other week are that Zayn’s two weeks are up so he is no longer around and that the COO application deadline is rapidly approaching. Because of these two facts, Louis spends more time than usual during the workday on his phone texting Zayn, who has graciously agreed to help him design some mock-ups to include in his application.

It’s gracious of him to do so because on Wednesday, Louis meets with him for coffee and breaks it to him that he thinks they would be better as friends. Fortunately, Zayn takes it extremely well. He is still enthusiastic to stay friends and is even the one to suggest that he helps Louis with the mock-ups.

All in all, it’s been a pretty good week. Before Louis knows it, Friday evening has rolled around.

“You know, it’s not too late to back out,” Harry says as he closes his laptop and begins packing up for the day.

Louis glares up at him as he mirrors Harry’s actions, closing his own laptop and packing up. “If I say that I’m going to do something, I follow through.”

“It’s not about your dedication,” Harry scoffs. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to do this.”

Admittedly, Louis is tempted to back out. The wedding venue is located at a vineyard a little over an hour away, and the plan is for them to make the drive right after work and stay there through the weekend. They have to get there tonight since Harry is close family and expected to be at the rehearsal dinner. Seeing as Harry had given up last weekend to help take care of Louis, it’s really only fair that Louis devote this weekend to Harry.

Even though it will be a long haul, the amount of time isn’t what makes Louis wish he would back out. It’s that Harry’s sister Gemma is the one getting married. Somehow Harry has forgotten Louis from their childhood, but the chances seem slim that Gemma and both of Harry’s parents will also not recognize him.

Louis doesn’t work up the courage to bring it up to Harry until an hour into the drive.

“Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry keeps his eyes on the straight stretch of highway in front of them, signaling and switching into the slow lane. “You want to go home?” Harry asks, his tone completely judgment-free. “It’s not too late to bail, I swear. Just say the word and I’ll turn right around. No hard feelings.”

Louis smacks Harry’s arm because glaring will get him nowhere when Harry isn’t even looking his way. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not bailing?”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t switch back to the fast lane either. As they pass the next exit, Louis swears that Harry slows just a bit more in case he suddenly changes his mind.

“I should have told you sooner, but I just didn’t know how,” Louis says.

At this, Harry does sneak a glance his way. He looks relieved, probably at the fact that his plus-one isn’t bailing and making him drive extra because of it. “That’s… interesting,” Harry says thoughtfully, “because I have something I should tell you too.”

Louis blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“What if I told you that none of it was accidental? And that the first day that I saw you, I knew. Nothing could stop me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The games that we play, the way we rile each other up, the kiss in the elevator, taking care of you… I’m into you, Louis. And I feel like I’ve been scheming since the moment that I met you to get you to feel the same. Like a… mastermind, if you will.”

Harry has returned to looking directly ahead, which is probably a good thing. It means he doesn’t get to see the way Louis is gaping openly at him as he processes this information. Whatever he had been expecting Harry to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

The more Louis thinks about it, the more it makes sense. The way Harry has been so observant of him, his jealous behavior around Zayn, his going above what anyone would have expected while Louis was sick.

“You like me? You’ve been trying to get me to like you?” Louis has never been more confused. “Until recently, I thought I hated you.”

If Louis is honest with himself, what he feels for Harry hasn’t been able to be purely described as hatred for a while. Harry gets under his skin in a way that no one else can, but he enjoys the games they play. And he certainly enjoyed the Kissing Game in the elevator.

Harry shakes his head. “We got off on the wrong foot somehow. I’ve never understood why, to be honest. But I tried to make it a playful thing so that we could turn it around. Did it… work?”

Louis doesn’t know how he feels, so instead of answering he goes back to what he first meant to bring up.

“When our offices merged,” he says nervously, “that wasn’t the first time that we met each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks. “Surely I would remember you.”

Louis ducks his head to hide his expression. “I would have thought so.”

“Hang on,” Harry says, turning on his blinker and pulling over on the side of the highway. Once the car is safely stopped, he turns to Louis and repeats, “What do you mean?”

“We knew each other, when we were kids,” Louis explains lamely.

It’s the most watered-down version of the truth that there is. Their relationship as kids had been so much more than that. Harry had been Louis’ best friend in the entire world. When Louis had his first kiss, Harry had been the one that he told. When Louis’ parents announced their divorce, Harry had been the shoulder that he cried on. When Louis realized he was gay, Harry had seen him through that too.

Louis’ family moved just before he started high school. His mum had one pair of twins too many to fit in their current house and wanted to live someplace less urban. Louis had still mostly stayed in touch with Harry, texting all the time. Louis was the older one, so he went off to college first. They still stayed in touch, but the messages grew less frequent and less detailed. When Harry went off to college himself two years later, they stopped talking fully.

And yet, when Louis had first seen him walk into the new Payne & Horan Publishing building, he thought it would be just like old times. He thought they would rekindle their friendship fully, or at least to some degree. He had never imagined the blank, polite look on Harry’s face, no trace of recognition at all, as he said, “Hi, I’m Harry Styles. I’m Niall’s assistant and the one handling details of the merger. What’s your name?” And then, after Louis had numbly said his full name and Harry had checked his clipboard, “Your job is safe. See you around, then.”

Louis shakes his head to clear it, focusing on where Harry is staring intently at him from the driver’s seat.

“You said you grew up on a strawberry farm,” Harry says slowly. “How would we have known each other?”

“Right,” Louis says, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Sorry. I… lied about that. After you didn’t recognize me, I just… well. You were my best friend. I didn’t realize that I somehow didn’t make the same impression on you.”

Harry is studying him with an intensity that makes Louis fidget in his seat.

“I’m only bringing it up because Gemma and your parents might recognize me, and that would be a bit awkward for everyone,” Louis says hastily, growing even more red. “You’ve sat across from me and looked at me for a year now. Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to suddenly have an epiphany.”

“My best friend was-” Harry cuts himself off suddenly. “Oh my god. Tommo?”

Louis all but flinches at the nickname. No one has called him that in years, but it’s all anyone called him when he was younger. “I… yeah. Short for Tomlinson.”

“I can’t believe it.” Harry says, shaking his head. His eyes are wide and he’s looking at Louis like he’s seeing him for the first time. “How could I not have seen it? Your hair is different now, and you’ve got tattoos now, but-”

“So have you,” Louis interrupts.

“So have I,” Harry agrees. “God, this is the worst news, isn’t it?”

Louis frowns. “I thought you’d be… I dunno, glad that it’s me?”

“No, no,” Harry rushes to explain. “It’s just… there was only ever one boy I had a crush on at school and only ever one colleague I had a crush on at the office - and it’s you. It’s always been you, and somehow I never saw it.”

“Oh.” Louis feels the corners of his mouth lifting. “Really?”

“I’m so sorry, Louis. Er, Tommo?”

“I go by Louis now, with pretty much everyone.”

“I’m sorry, Louis,” Harry says again. “Do you think maybe we can start over?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t think I want to start over. I kind of like where we’re at. Let’s see where it leads.”

Harry’s smile starts slowly, then spreads until his entire face has lit up. “I like the sound of that.”

–

They spend the rest of the drive catching each other up on their lives. Harry repeatedly expresses that he has no idea how he didn’t recognize Louis, and Louis makes him detail exactly how he thought his scheming was going to bring them together instead of tear them apart.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Harry defends as they pull into the hotel parking lot.

“Miraculously,” Louis tells him.

They’re still bickering about it good-naturedly as they unload their suitcases from the car and walk into the lobby. Louis hangs back with their bags while Harry goes to check in and get the room key.

Harry walks back over to where Louis is standing a few minutes later, a keycard in his hand and a nervous look on his face.

“You know how I said that none of it was accidental?” Harry asks sheepishly. “That is no longer true. This was accidental, I swear.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“They rebooked us,” Harry says. “I asked them to do anything that they could to fix it, but because of the wedding, the entire hotel is full.”

Louis frowns, not following. “To fix what?”

“We’re in a queen room now,” Harry explains. “So there’s only one bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine, though,” Harry says quickly. “I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind.”

Louis narrows his eyes at him. “As if. I’ve heard you complain about your back more times than I can count. Besides, queen beds are big. It’ll be fine.”

“Right,” Harry says. “It’ll be fine.”

And it is fine, greatly helped by the fact that the hotel room they are now in is massive. Next to the queen bed, there is a small sitting space with a coffee table and two chairs. To the left, there is an office nook with an L-shaped desk and a rolling chair. Separated by a half-wall, there is a small kitchen complete with a breakfast bar. Outside the window past the queen bed, Louis swears he sees a balcony.

“Wow,” Louis says aloud, setting his bags down and immediately heading for the balcony to check out the view. “This is so nice.”

“It is,” Harry agrees, but he sounds dismissive rather than appreciative. Without exploring the room at all, he adds, “Mind if I shower first? Sometimes taming my hair takes a while, and I should probably look presentable for the dinner.”

“Sure, no rush,” Louis calls from the balcony, tearing his eyes away from the view of the vineyard to peek at his phone for the time. There’s 2 hours until the dinner starts, so they have plenty of time.

While Harry heads into the bathroom, Louis pokes around their room, opening up all the various drawers and cabinets to peek inside. There is a pamphlet by the massive TV which advertises other amenities in the hotel, including a pool and spa. That sounds intriguing, and since it sounds like Harry will be a while, Louis decides to go check it out.

The hotel feels small but luxurious. There are only a few rooms on each floor and only five floors total, but the decorations throughout make it seem extremely upscale. Louis takes the stairs back down to the lobby, stopping at a couple of floors on the way just to take a quick look. “Spa” feels like an exaggeration for the facilities he sees, but the pool itself looks incredibly tempting. Louis even debates taking a quick dip now, but he doesn’t want to be gone too long in case it stresses Harry out when he realizes Louis is gone.

Fortunately, he doesn’t run into anyone he knows as he explores the hotel’s other amenities (there is a  gym, a restaurant and bar attached to the lobby, and a variety of informational pamphlets about wine). He had been a little nervous to run into Gemma or her parents, but it makes sense that they are probably busy getting ready too.

Still, as Louis browses the pamphlets, he can’t help but feel extremely inexplicably self-conscious. He glances around, getting the feeling that the other hotel patrons milling in the lobby are watching him and whispering about him. He doesn’t know why he feels that way, but the way people quickly look away and are speaking in hushed tones isn’t helping.

Trying to shake off the weird feeling, Louis goes back up to their room. Harry is standing in front of a mirror near the bed, wearing only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“Oh,” Louis says as he enters, immediately flustered at the sight. “Um, sorry, did you need uh…”

Harry just gives him a grin. “Oh, hey,” he says. “Bathroom mirror was all steamed-up, so.”

“Right,” Louis says, and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes from wandering south of Harry’s own. “Right. So you’re done with the bathroom then? I’ll just. Yeah.” Hastily, Louis whips open his bag, pulls out the clothes he’d packed for the rehearsal dinner, and escapes into the bathroom for a much-needed cold shower.

When Louis emerges from the bathroom, Harry is fully dressed and ready. Somehow, the sight of him in his formal suit is nearly just as mouth-watering than the sight of him half-naked earlier.

“Ready?” Harry asks. He runs a hand through his hair then curses at himself, checking in the mirror to make sure he hasn’t messed it up too badly.

“Do you think it will be weird with your family?” Louis asks. “That they’ll recognize me?” If they need to make a game plan or get their stories straight, now is the last chance to do it.

Harry shakes his head. “It won’t be weird. You know they’ve always adored you. If anything, they’re going to strangle me for holding out on them by not telling them the plus-one I was bringing is you.”

Louis nods, but he still feels nervous to see them again.

“Hey,” Harry says, bringing Louis’ focus back to him as he steps closer. “It’ll be okay. And if it isn’t, for whatever reason, and you want to go home… we’ll get our asses in the car and drive right back.”

Louis shoves at Harry’s shoulder. “We’re not bailing on your sister’s wedding.”

“We could, though. If you want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“If you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“Then it sounds like we’re ready.”

Louis doesn’t know how Harry does it, how he riles him up and comforts him at the same time. He grabs the lapels of Harry’s suit and tugs to close the distance between them, pressing their lips together.

“If the reason we miss my sister’s wedding is that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other to make it out of the room, she really will strangle me,” Harry mumbles against his lips, but continues to kiss him back instead of pulling away.

It’s only the second time, but whenever Harry kisses him, Louis feels like the rest of the world falls away. Nothing else exists or matters but the feeling of Harry pulling him close as their lips move against each other. Their last kiss had been instigated by Harry, but he had immediately let Louis take control. This one Louis started, but now it’s Harry’s turn to take. He kisses Louis like he’s been craving it, like he doesn’t know if there will ever be another time and he needs to get his fill while he can.

When he pulls away, it takes all of Louis’ strength not to immediately pull Harry back to him. “We should go,” Harry says breathlessly. “We really shouldn’t miss the rehearsal.”

“We’re early,” Louis says. He doesn’t care that it sounds desperate, that he’s practically begging for it.

“We were early,” Harry corrects. “Now we’re just on time. Besides, if this were to go any further right now, we’d have to rush.” He looks directly into Louis’ eyes as he adds, “And I want to take my time with you.”

They do a last look in the mirror to check that their impromptu make-out didn’t mess up their hair or clothes too badly, then head downstairs.

-

Harry’s family reacts exactly as he had predicted.

“Oh my goodness, is that-?” Anne, Harry’s mum, asks with a dramatic flutter of her hand over her heart.

“Tommo, yes,” Louis says, extending a hand. “I go by Louis now.”

“Oh, darling!” she cries out, ignoring his handshake and hauling him in for a hug, kissing both of his cheeks. “I’m so glad to see you again, and with Harry no less. Secretly, I always hoped you’d end up together back when you were kids.”

“You little shit” Gemma rounds on Harry. “You didn’t tell us?” Once she’s smacked Harry’s arms a bit and tousled his hair, she also turns to Louis to add, “So good to see you again. Did he tell you yet that he used to have the biggest crush on you?”

Des, Harry’s dad, doesn’t have much of a reaction at all. He simply raises an eyebrow and gives Louis a firm handshake. “You reconnected at that publishing job he has?”

“Er, yes,” Louis answers. He isn’t sure what else to add, and Harry’s dad doesn’t say anything more either.

Overall, the re-introductions go splendidly. And Louis can’t help but relish in the way Harry’s cheeks stay tinged red with embarrassment throughout the night.

Catching up with Harry’s family and poking fun at Harry himself keeps Louis mostly occupied, but in the slight lulls in conversation, he notices that feeling of being watched again.

“Hey,” he leans over to whisper to Harry, “are people looking at us?”

Since they are at the rehearsal dinner, most of the other folks present are close family or friends of the bride and groom. This makes it all the more odd that they would find Louis and Harry to be so interesting.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, which is not the reassurance that Louis was hoping for. “There’s just a lot of family drama.”

“Got it,” Louis says. And for most of the night, he succeeds in following Harry’s advice and not thinking much of it.

After dinner, there are desserts and drinks. Harry gets pulled away by his mum to make rounds of saying hellos to various family members. Louis gets the sense that Harry hasn’t been close with his family lately, and they’re taking this opportunity to make the most of his presence.

Louis doesn’t mind being alone, especially not with an unlimited supply of champagne and sweets. But he isn’t alone for long.

“Louis!” Nick, the doctor who had helped take care of him, is sliding into the seat next to him that Harry had vacated. “I was hoping to catch you. I just wanted to thank you for being here - I’m glad that Harry was able to convince you to come.”

Louis frowns. If anything, it had felt like he convinced Harry to let him come. “Right,” Louis says politely. “Well, of course we came. Congratulations on getting married.”

“Thank you,” Nick beams. “You know, the way he looks at you? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he’s fully moved on.”

Moved on? Louis has no idea what to say to that, no idea what Nick is talking about.

“Anyways,” Nick says, clapping Louis on the back and standing to leave. “I know it’s a bit of an awkward situation for you, so I just wanted to stop by and say that we really do appreciate it.”

Louis can’t hide his confusion any longer. “Sorry, what do you mean?”

Nick looks at Louis for a moment before his eyes go wide. “Harry didn’t tell you?”

Louis shakes his head. Harry had confessed that he had been scheming to get Louis’ attention for the entire duration of their working relationship, but he can’t see any connection between that and Nick.

Nick blows out some air, looking suddenly unsure of himself. “I thought-” He cuts himself off, looks around wildly, then flags over a waiter to bring them more champagne. He takes three from the waiter’s tray, handing one to Louis and knocking back another as if it were a shot before starting on the third.

“What’s going on?” Louis asks, feeling incredibly out of his depth.

“Harry and I dated for a few years,” Nick says bluntly. “It didn’t work out. I broke up with him before I started med school, which is where I reconnected with Gemma. We didn’t really mean for it to turn into anything, but well. Here we are. Madly in love and about to be wed.”

Louis gapes at Nick. He’s a plus-one to the wedding between Harry’s sister and Harry’s ex, and Harry didn’t tell him? No wonder people have been staring at him and gossiping.

“Harry’s been a great sport about it all, but he really had us thinking that he wasn’t going to come to the wedding. Plus, ever since we broke up he’s been fighting with his dad,” Nick sighs, waving a hand to indicate that he won’t be elaborating on that. “He had plenty of reasons to not be here.”

“I…” Louis shakes his head. “I had no idea.”

Nick winces. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I really thought…” he sighs. “I meant it, what I said about Harry caring for you.”

“Sure,” Louis says quietly. “Thanks for telling me.”

Some people are calling for Nick to come over to them, and he hesitates. For a moment, he looks torn between making rounds as the groom and staying to further explain things to Louis.

“Go on,” Louis says, motioning to the other table that is waving Nick over. “I’m alright. Really, thanks for telling me.”

He keeps the reassuring smile pasted on his face until Nick leaves. Then he lets the mask drop, finishes his champagne, and goes up to the room without bothering to let Harry know.

-

Louis kicks off his shoes and flops onto the bed, pulling out his phone to distract himself. He has a bunch of texts from Zayn with photos of the book cover mock-ups he asked him to help with. Louis texts him back his thanks and also a few tweaks that would be nice to fix. It’s much simpler to think about work instead of his personal life. Louis lets himself focus fully on texting Zayn, not thinking of anything else.

It ends up being tricky to communicate about small design adjustments via text, so Zayn gives him a quick call to make sure that everything is as he asked. When Harry unlocks the door and bursts in looking frazzled, Louis is just wrapping up the phone call.

“Yeah, exactly,” Louis says, looking up at Harry’s abrupt entrance. “It looks way better now. It’s perfect.”

“Great,” Zayn says, his voice slightly distorted through the phone. “Let me know if you think of anything else that you want changed. I promise I don’t mind.”

“You’ve already done so much,” Louis says. Zayn is essentially working for free on his weekend for Louis, even after he rejected him. Before Zayn can protest, Louis assures him, “I’ll let you know if anything comes up, but I doubt it. Thank you again, Zayn.”

From where he has taken a seat on the office chair, Harry’s head snaps to attention at the sound of Zayn’s name.

“Bye, Louis.”

“Bye.” Louis ends the call and then sits up on the bed to look at Harry.

“How is Zayn?” Harry asks coldly.

“He’s good,” Louis answers warily. “He’s helping me out with something for my application.”

“Sure,” Harry says.

“He is,” Louis insists. “What is your problem anyways? You’re the one who didn’t even bother to tell me that the wedding we’re at is for your ex-boyfriend and your sister.”

Harry has the decency to cringe at that. “Nick told me that he’d spoken to you about it. I should’ve been the one to tell you.”

“Yeah, you should have.”

“I didn’t want you to think there was anything remaining between me and Nick,” Harry explains. “I know how it looks. Him, marrying my sister. Me, having to be forced into attending the wedding. I’m sure it seems to everyone else that I’m still in love with him or some shit. But I swear that I’m not.”

Louis’ eyes narrow. “Why didn’t you want to come to the wedding?”

Harry sighs. “My parents are getting a divorce. And things have been bad for a while, especially with me and my dad. I didn’t want to see him until the divorce was finalized, or maybe even ever again.” Harry seems to be sincere about this, a pained expression on his face. “I’m never enough for him. He wants me to settle down, wants me out of the publishing industry, wants me to be someone that I’m not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Louis says softly.

“It wasn’t always this bad.” Harry shrugs. “I’ve never been enough for him, but it wasn’t really until the divorce was coming to a head that he actually lashed out about it. Anyways, I was avoiding the wedding to avoid him. It’s never been about Nick.”

“Must be weird, though, right?” Louis asks. “Your ex and your sister?”

“A bit,” Harry acknowledges, “but it’s not like Nick and I were ever madly in love. We just got along and were seeing where things went. Turns out, I’ve always been hung up on someone from my past.” Harry gives him a lopsided smile at that and Louis can’t help the way his heart flutters.

“That makes sense,” Louis tells him. “It’s weird still, but it makes sense.”

Harry nods. “I get why it bothers you. I’m… possessive too.”

“No shit.” Louis lets out a small laugh. “Thought you were going to snatch the phone right out of my hand when I said Zayn’s name earlier.”

Harry bristles, but he doesn’t deny it and that only makes Louis laugh harder.

“I ended it with him last week, just so you know. We really were just talking about the designs he’s helping me with. I wanted to work on them to take my mind off of what Nick told me.”

“Oh,” Harry says, looking both sheepish and pleased. “It drove me crazy to see you with him, did you know that?”

“Not at the time,” Louis answers. “I see it now, though.” And he does. Harry’s gaze looks darker than usual just at the thought of Louis with Zayn.

“I know it’s all a bit rushed and weird, but do you think we could…” Harry runs a hand through his hair nervously, fully messing up the styling he poured his soul into hours earlier. “Define things?”

“Define things?” Louis asks, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun at him. “Harry Styles, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“I’m asking you to be mine, in any way that you’ll let me have you,” Harry says seriously.

Louis blinks, taken aback by the answer. “Well, you’ve already taken care of me at my lowest and I’ve already met your parents. Aren’t those relationship milestones?”

“Are you saying that you’re already mine?” Harry asks, getting up from the office chair and closing the distance between them.

“I think I might’ve been yours for longer than I realized,” Louis admits softly. 

“Me too.” Harry smiles, ducking down to kiss him. “I think I’ve always been yours.”

Louis kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him down onto the bed with him. This kiss starts off more tenderly than the others, but it’s not long until things begin to feel heated.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Harry whispers when they part to catch their breath. He trails his lips down Louis’ jaw to his neck where he resumes kissing him lightly. “I can’t believe we’re here now. I used to sit across from you all day and imagine what it would be like, to be able to touch you like this.”

“Really?” Louis asks breathlessly.

“Really,” Harry says, finding Louis’ pulse point with his lips and sucking there. As Louis’ head falls back, Harry continues, “I’d think about what it would be like to kiss you like this, to mark you as mine.” He sucks harder against Louis’ neck, then soothes over the spot gently with his tongue. “I’d think about what it would be like to hold you in my arms, to touch you all over.” To demonstrate, Harry’s fingers skim down Louis’ chest, teasing around his thighs before returning to cradle his face. “I’d think about taking off your clothes, how gorgeous you’d be for me.” Harry begins unbuttoning Louis’ shirt, pausing to check, “Do you want that, Louis?”

Louis huffs a little, as if it should have been obvious from how responsive he has been under Harry’s kisses and touches. “Yes,” he says, reaching up to tug at Harry’s shirt, “I want that. I want you.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, sounding cocky. He takes his time with Louis’ shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and trailing his fingers along where Louis’ chest has been bared.

Louis needs more. “Do you remember the dream I told you that I had?”

“About me becoming your boss?” Harry grins.

Louis rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t about that. But it was about you.”

“Oh?” Harry makes quick work of his own clothes, shedding both his shirt and his pants.

The sight of him nearly makes Louis lose his train of thought, especially since he’s never really let himself look at Harry like this before. Even when he saw Harry in only a towel earlier today, he had deliberately tried to keep his eyes on Harry’s face. Now, though, he allows himself to drink in the sight.

“Tell me about this dream of yours,” Harry prompts, running his hands over Louis’ body. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“It was because of that conversation we had in the kitchen,” Louis says as Harry resumes trailing kisses along his neck, this time continuing down his chest. “You said something about how you’d work me so fucking hard.”

Harry grins devilishly up at him. “I would.”

“I know,” Louis all but whimpers as Harry’s kisses move lower, his hands fiddling with the buckle of Louis’ belt.

“You dreamed about us in the kitchen?” Harry asks, getting them back on track.

Louis nods once, then immediately shakes his head. It’s hard to think when Harry’s hands are so close and yet so far from where he wants them. “At the start, we were,” he explains. “You cornered me, and you were telling me how if you were my boss how I’d have to be such a- such a good boy for you.”

Louis swears he can feel Harry’s smile against his skin. “And you would,” he murmurs. “You’d be my good boy, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh god,” Louis whispers. Harry has undone his belt and tugged down his pants now, and is palming a hand over Louis’ dick in a way that has him rocking his hips up for more.

“Then what?” Harry asks.

“Then we were in the office,” Louis says, “and you bent me over your desk. You were going to fuck me there, but that’s when I woke up.”

“Well I guess we’ll just have to make it happen.” Harry says it lightly, but his eyes are dark with lust. He finally has Louis’ dick in his hand, expertly twisting over it in a way that has Louis’ eyes rolling back.

When Harry stops and gets up, Louis whines at the loss and pushes up onto his elbows. “Come back,” he says, not caring if it sounds needy.

“Just grabbing stuff,” Harry assures him. He rummages around in his bag before pulling out a condom and a travel-sized bottle of lube.

“You brought lube?” Now that Harry’s hand isn't actively driving him crazy, Louis can think more clearly.

“Not like, with the intention of doing this,” Harry says, shaking his head. “It’s just in my travel duffel all the time. Actually, I should check if it’s even still good.” He squints at the bottle's expiration for a moment before miming wiping sweat from his brow. “Phew.”

It’s such a goofy gesture; Louis laughs to hide the way he feels his heart constricting. He hasn’t seen this side of Harry since they were young. “Get back over here then,” he says, reaching for Harry.

Harry obliges, crawling back onto the bed and kissing him deeply. Louis takes the opportunity to let his hands roam. He traces his fingers along Harry’s back, squeezes his ass, then trails them upwards to tug at Harry’s hair. When they part, Harry asks again, “You’re sure you want this, right?”

“Harry, did I or did I not just tell you how I have literally dreamed about this?”

Harry laughs, ducking his head. “Just making sure.”

Harry lubes up his fingers, using them to tease around Louis’ hole before finally inserting one.

“I just can’t believe that you wanted me too,” Harry says, all too conversationally considering that he has a finger inside Louis at the moment.

“Why?” Louis manages to ask, groaning as Harry slides in a second finger and begins to crook them together rhythmically.

“I used to think about stuff like that too, you know,” Harry says. It’s clear what he means, but he elaborates anyways, “Like bending you over the desk and fucking you senseless.”

“Right,” Louis says. Harry has added a third finger, so he thinks it’s forgivable that he doesn’t have much to say at the moment.

“I’d be sitting there across from you, unable to think about anything else. I’d have to write out lists of unsexy things to get my boner to go down so I could get back to work,” Harry says, chuckling.

It’s funny, and Louis would have laughed too if he wasn’t so occupied with fucking himself down on Harry’s fingers. Harry, always observant, notices that Louis is actively rocking his hips down and asks, “You ready?”

“Please,” Louis says.

Probably because of their long-standing rivalry, Louis had assumed that sex with Harry would be rough. It would be hot and quick and dirty, filled with tension fueled by something that isn’t quite hatred.

But as Harry pushes in, Louis realizes quickly that this isn’t the case at all. Harry goes slowly, especially at first. He checks that Louis is adjusted and ready for him to move so many times that Louis is grabbing at his hips and practically begging him to get on with it already. Even then, he starts slow and only ramps up once he deems that they are ready for it. It’s maddening, but it’s also sweet.

It’s also incredibly good. When Harry picks up the pace and settles into a rhythm with his hips, Louis moans in appreciation, rocking back against him. It’s the best sex of Louis’ life, and it’s with someone who up until recently Louis thought he hated.

When Harry takes Louis’ dick in his hand to push him over the edge, he comes so hard that his vision blacks out a little.

As Louis catches his breath, Harry uses some damp hotel towels to help clean them up. Once that’s done, he gets back on the bed and pulls Louis into his arms.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m a bit of a cuddler,” Harry says, nuzzling his nose into Louis’ hair.

Louis leans into it, thinking to himself that over the last year working with him, somehow the impression he got of Harry Styles was completely wrong.

-

“You can see it even with my collar fully buttoned,” Louis wails dramatically, looking in the mirror and frowning at the hickeys Harry left along his neck.

Harry grins unabashedly at him from where he is also buttoning up his own dress shirt. “So what?”

Louis glares at him. “So, everyone is going to see them. At your sister’s wedding!”

“It’s fine. No one is going to care,” Harry says, shrugging. “And if anyone does care, maybe they’ll finally get the hint that there’s no hard feelings about me and Nick.”

Louis arches an eyebrow at him. “Is that the master plan? Did you do this on purpose to show them that you’re over him?”

“Nope,” Harry says, “though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish that Zayn would see you like this, all marked up as mine.”

“Well, he won’t,” Louis rolls his eyes at the jealousy. “He doesn’t work with us anymore.”

Louis freezes then, thoughts about work flooding in. Somehow, he had lost track of them amidst the wedding and everything going on with Harry.

“We… work together,” Louis says slowly, feeling the blood drain from his face. “What are we doing? We’re going to get ourselves fired. One of us is going to be the other’s boss in like a week.”

“Hey,” Harry says, grabbing the belt loops of Louis’ slacks to tug him close. He leans his forehead against Louis’ and says reassuringly, “Don’t worry. I told you already, I’d quit if you got the promotion. And I’m sure you’ll get it. I’ve already been applying elsewhere.”

“What?” Louis feels anything but reassured by that news. “You’re leaving?”

“Leaving our workplace so that we can be together, yeah.” Harry says it simply, like it’s the easiest decision to uproot his career and his life.

“When you said you would quit, I thought it was because you hated me so much that you couldn’t stand to have me be your boss.”

“Mastermind, remember?” Harry gives him a goofy smile, tapping his temple. Then, he shakes his head and says seriously, “No, I’m sure it seemed that way. But remember how I told you all those thoughts I’d have about you while working across from you? Would’ve been highly inappropriate if I was your subordinate. And now that we’ve figured things out… well, I’d always choose you.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Louis says, smiling up at him. “But hey, don’t quit yet. I might not even get the promotion.”

“You’ll get it,” Harry says, fully confident. “I know it.”

 Louis kisses him appreciatively, and Harry kisses him back so deeply that they are nearly late to the wedding reception.

-

The wedding is beautiful, and especially since he had known Gemma when they were younger, Louis feels lucky to be able to attend. It’s emotional seeing her now as a beautiful bride, practically glowing in her white gown. Nick visibly tears up at the sight of her walking down the aisle, and the rest of the audience tears up at the sight of that.

There are less curious eyes on Louis today, since everyone is focused on the bride and groom. As is their style, he and Harry turn the gossip into a game. Whenever either of them catches someone looking at them, they try to one-up each other in a public display of affection.

It started with simple hand-holding and innocuous touches like an arm around the shoulder or a kiss to the cheek. But now things have escalated and Harry is in the lead after he dropped to his knees as if to give Louis a blowjob when they saw an older lady whispering to her husband about them. Louis had hauled Harry up to his feet as quickly as he could, but not before the woman gave an affronted gasp. Harry is still cackling about it and insisting that Louis won’t be able to top it. Louis won’t admit it, but he thinks this time Harry has indeed won.

Louis had wandered off to get a slice of cake while Harry caught up with some family friends that he hasn’t seen in a while. But when Louis returns, the scene is much different than he left it.

It seems Harry’s dad has had a few glasses too many of champagne. He is shouting at Harry as Anne holds him back, and Harry is yelling too.

“Shit,” Louis mutters, abandoning his half-eaten cake to rush to Harry’s side.

“-basically a secretary, and you’re leaving instead of trying to get promoted,” Des is sneering as Louis approaches.

“That’s not true,” Harry seethes. “But even if it was, so what? No matter what I do, it would never be good enough for you.”

“Let it go,” Anne says firmly to Des, looking around worriedly. They’ve grown loud enough to draw the attention of a small crowd. Gemma and Nick are making their way over, matching frowns on their faces. “At least for now. You’re ruining Gemma’s wedding, darling. This isn’t the time.”

“I’m not ruining anything,” Des huffs. “It’s him,” he declares, pointing a crooked finger directly at Harry, “ruining everything, like he always does.”

Harry lifts his chin defiantly, but Louis knows that hurt him.

“Hey,” Louis interjects loudly, stepping forward. “Stop it, both of you.”

Louis intervening works purely because it catches them unexpectedly. Instead of shouting more at each other, both Des and Harry look at him in surprise.

“Harry and I work together, and I assure you that he is much more than a secretary. He practically runs the place. He’s the one who handled the entire merging of the two companies together,” Louis informs Des and the audience sharply. “And even though he is planning to leave, he’ll be moving on to bigger and better things. He’s incredibly qualified and publishing companies will be fighting to have him join their leadership.”

“Whatever,” Des grumbles, turning to Harry to presumably go off on him again.

“Harry is doing great things,” Louis continues quickly. “But he is currently being held back by something, even if he won’t admit it. Do you know what that is?” He directs the question to Des, demanding his attention. “You. You’re holding him back. And you’re fracturing this family. He doesn’t feel supported by you, to the point that he almost didn’t even attend this wedding. Can you imagine how much that would have hurt everyone?”

“If he chose not to come, that’s not my fault,” Des says harshly. “And maybe he shouldn’t have come. It would have been better that way.”

“Dad!” Gemma cries out, clearly upset. “How can you say that? Harry being here means so much to me, and you know it.”

It’s Gemma’s words that finally get through to him. Muttering under his breath still, Des waves a hand dismissively and turns away. It’s nowhere near an apology, but it’s probably as close as he’ll get. Des sways on his feet as he stumbles away, and Anne quickly dispatches some younger family friends to make sure he gets back to his room. 

Louis stands out of the way as Harry goes to apologize to Gemma for being in a fight in the middle of her wedding. As he waits on the sidelines, Anne approaches him with a small smile on her face and an extra plate of cake in her hands.

“I appreciate what you said there, Louis,” she tells him as she hands him the plate of cake.

“It’s all true,” Louis says.

“You’re really good for him, you know? He used to tell us about you, before he revealed who you actually were. It sounds like you challenge him and lift him in a way no one else could.”

“You think so?”

“I think that fight could have destroyed our family just now.” Anne sighs, shaking her head. “You’re the one who stopped that from happening. Maybe we’ll all have a chance to start again, thanks to you. And maybe we’ll have that chance to rebuild the family with you as a part of it.”

Louis smiles, touched by her words. “Thank you. I’d really like that.”

Harry makes his way over to them then, having apparently smoothed things over with Gemma. There’s a mark of lipstick from where she kissed him on the cheek to prove it.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Anne says, pulling Louis in for a hug before slipping away into the crowd.

“Hey,” Harry says as he approaches, “you alright? What was that about?”

“She was just uh,” Louis grins, pausing to smack a quick kiss directly on Harry’s lips, “welcoming me to the family.”

-

Louis had feared that returning from the bubble of the wedding would put a damper on everything between them. To his surprise, things are even better once they get back.

Louis is promoted to COO just as Harry predicted, and Harry finds another job relatively easily. It’s at a competing publishing firm, where he’ll be in a role very similar to Louis’ new one. Because of the direct competition, they’ve officially disclosed their relationship to their respective HR departments and gotten approval.

All in all, things are looking up. It’s the happiest that Louis has felt in a long time.

“What do you think? Here, or on the other wall?” Louis asks, holding up a poster that Zayn designed up to the wall next to his desk. He is moving into his new COO office, and Harry is helping him decorate.

“Other wall,” Harry says decisively. He narrows his eyes as Louis moves to the other wall, holding up the poster for him to evaluate. “Wait a minute. Did Zayn draw that?”

“Babe,” Louis says, giving him a look. “It’s just a poster.”

“I know, I know. You should have some pictures of us in here, though,” Harry insists. “Facing the door, so anyone who comes into your office knows that you’re mine.”

“Babe,” Louis repeats, laughing. He rolls his eyes at the possessiveness, stepping away from the wall to press a reassuring kiss to Harry’s lips.

“I’m just saying,” Harry defends with a smile, “I know exactly how attractive and tempting you can be in an office setting.”

Louis blushes, shoving at Harry’s shoulder. “Same goes for you.”

“You’re right,” Harry agrees seriously. “I’ll put photos of us all over my new desk too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Louis says, but they’re both laughing about it now.

“Someday,” Harry says softly, holding Louis close, “I won’t need photos to show everyone else that you’re mine. There’ll be a ring on your finger, right here,” he pauses, lifting Louis’ left hand to brush his lips over his knuckles. “And that’ll tell the world.”

Louis’ heart skips a beat, or maybe even two or three. “Someday.”

Harry beams at him, then takes the poster from his other hand and begins pinning it up where Louis had previously tested it out.

Once Louis’ office is fully set up, they both look around appreciatively. They pass by their old desks on the way out, both of which are now vacant. Sometime next week, Liam had scheduled for contractors to remove the desks and remodel the area into a nicer waiting room and entryway for his and Niall’s offices.

“I’ll miss working across from you, you know,” Louis says. “And all the games that we would play.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “You think we’re done playing games?”

“Some of them.”

“I think that we’re starting a new game, and it’s going to be the best one yet.”

“Oh really?”

“It’s called the Relationship Game,” Harry says, taking Louis’ hand in his, “and we’re both doing great already.”

“The Relationship Game,” Louis echoes. “I like that.”

“But just so you know,” Harry tells him with a charming smile. “I’m in the lead.”

“You are not ,” Louis says, but he’s smiling wide. It’s a new start to a new game, and he is so glad that Harry is his partner for it.