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Harry felt one side of the bed shift, and suddenly light was pouring over his body. For a moment fear stirred in his mind, was he late? No, it was Sunday, Sunday meant rest.
That was, however, until a few moments, or maybe an hour, later, when he felt two legs straddle his waist and gentle hands petting his hair, followed shortly by a gentle, “Baby,”
Harry was a light sleeper, but that didn’t mean he got up easy.
Harry laid perfectly still, but he knew Liam knew him too well to buy it.
“Baby,” Liam repeated, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Harry’s jaw, “What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday.” Harry answered, his lips turning up in a small smile, prompting Liam to give them a kiss as well.
“It is Sunday.” Liam agreed, “And what are we celebrating today, Harry?”
Harry finally opened his eyes, looking up at his better half, who looked maybe slightly more godlike than usual due to the lighting, “We’re celebrating our anniversary today, Liam.”
Liam’s face was overtaken by a huge grin as he leaned down and kissed Harry again, longer this time, stretching out so he was laying next to his husband, one of Harry’s arms wrapped around him.
It was their nineteenth anniversary, to be more specific, and as excited as Harry was, he really wanted to get some more sleep.
“I love you a whole lot.” Liam went on, “So I’m gonna let you rest for a bit.”
Harry let a tired grin spread across his features as he rolled over and went back into his deep sleep, making Liam giggle before leaving the room to go sit outside for a bit.
Liam started looking for Harry when he was sixteen and a psychic in Italy told him he would marry a beautiful man. This was somewhat of a surprise, considering Liam was only dimly aware of his homosexuality. He’d remained a largely celibate teenager up until that point, because everyone thought girls were gross, right? Everyone had seemed to until about four years ago, at least, but he figured this made a bit more sense. Liam wondered about this beautiful man he was going to marry, what was he doing? What was he like?
At that moment, a sixteen year old Harry was throwing grapes up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth on his fifteen minute break. Only stopping once he got yelled at that he would choke. Fine then, he thought, introspection it is. Harry spent a lot of time wondering about his future, he didn’t know if he’d be married, but he certainly hoped he would. Harry was wise enough to know that high school boys weren’t worth shit, but not wise enough to stop himself from getting a boyfriend the second he enrolled in uni.
Liam and Harry didn’t meet until they were both eighteen, which gave them plenty of time to mature. If he wasn’t before, Harry was most definitely a beautiful man now. He had a lovely boyfriend, he was acing all his classes, he’d adopted a Film major that he was more than ecstatic about, things seemed to be looking up, that was, until he found himself sat in the fanciest restaurant he’d ever been in with his boyfriend explaining to him how he’d met someone new.
At the same time, Liam was working a five to nine, and currently on seven. His bowtie was a billion times too tight, but he’d yet to get an adequate break to adjust it, table six had an infant with them, the chef’s apprentice was doing most of the work tonight, and wasn’t faring well. It was an all around shit shift and shit day.
Liam didn’t have time to loiter around a table and eavesdrop, but it was easy for his trained eye to spot a breakup. The couple were right next to the kitchen, so he got bits and pieces every time he walked by. There were a couple things that pushed Liam over the edge, such as “he looks so good in the passenger seat of my car” and “he’s got the arse I always complained you never had”. Mostly it was the way the other boy’s face just fell more and more while he sat there and took it. What kind of person drug out a public breakup that long?
It wouldn’t be a shame if he lost his job tonight, he’d have time for revision, so he calmly approached the table.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Liam asked the silent lad calmly.
“Um.” Harry froze up, not exactly sure how to answer that question, “Not anymore?”
“So why are you taking this shit from him? You can go, you know.” Liam told him simply.
“He’s my ride.” Harry replied weakly, swinging his feet under the table.
Liam almost gave up, but then the boyfriend smirked at him, and there was no way Liam was about to let this asshole win. Liam fished into his apron and pulled out approximately twenty pounds of tips and handed them over. “There’s a billion cabs outside, you shouldn’t have any trouble, now go and be happy that you ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and he’s picking up the bill.”
“Thank you, Liam.” Harry had managed to scan for the boy’s name tag before hurriedly exiting the restaurant, not daring to turn back.
“I’ll get you your bill.” Liam told the man with a bright smile. A few minutes later Liam had the recieved the payment in full, no tip, but did he really expect anything else? As he went to wipe down the table he found a bag on one of the chairs which contained the belongings of a Mr. Harry Styles.
Liam sipped his tea thinking about the memory. It didn’t feel like it was twenty years ago, not even close, time flew by with Harry. Maybe that was because he was asleep most of the time.
Harry had taken the Nice Hot Waiter’s advice and hailed a cab back to his dorm and promptly fallen asleep. The next day he started shuffling through his boyfriend’s belongings and thinking about what a horrible person he’d been dating.
About half way through this process, around two in the afternoon, he heard two swift knocks on his door.
Harry answered and there stood Liam, holding flowers and his bag, looking nervous.
“Hello.” Harry greeted, looking the man up and down and biting his lip. He looked nice in casual clothes, a fitted white t-shirt over a pair of jeans looked a lot better than a too-big tux.
“Harry.” Liam greeted, “You left your bag.”
“Oh.” Harry turned bright red, just then noticing that he was standing in his boxers and an old t-shirt, he still had work hair that was so gross he had to tie it up to keep it out of his face so he wouldn’t break out, he really wasn’t in any shape to be accepting gentleman callers.
“It seemed to have a lot of important things in it, not that I tried to look or anything, I just needed to figure out where to return it, I’m sorry if this is a bad time.” Liam explained apologetically as Harry took the flowers and let him step in.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, if you can deal with my ugliness than I can deal with a bit of spontaneity.” Harry reasoned, “Can I get you some tea or something?”
“Hold up,” Liam raised an arm, looking at Harry curiously, “I didn’t come here to court you, I just feel really bad about your shitty ex and I thought you might miss your wallet, but you can’t seriously think you’re ugly, can you?”
Harry looked down at his figure, and then his reflection on the mirror he had behind his sofa, and then back at Liam and kind of shrugged, “Yeah?”
“Christ, Harry, I’m going to assume this whole ordeal was a blow to your self esteem and you aren’t actually that blind.” Liam reasoned, “Because any rational person would be able to see that you’re a ten, if I ever got a boy like you, I’d never ever let him go.”
“You know, I think they all think that.” Harry laughed bitterly, “But then they spend three months with you and all of a sudden they want out.”
“I could spend a lifetime with you.”
“Three months.” Harry repeated, “And you let me know, very honestly, if you want to leave or not.”
“Is this happening?” Liam smiled giddily, sticking his hand out to shake to confirm the bet.
“You brought me flowers, this is happening.” Harry confirmed, shaking Liam’s hand. “First rule of dating me, you have to at least pretend to like Friends.” Harry joked, turning on the telly and sitting down on the couch, a cushion away from Liam, but they were together nonetheless.
As it turned out, Harry and Liam went to schools just a few blocks away from each other. So Liam made a habit of coming over in the afternoons and watching at least four episodes with Harry while they talked. Liam, in addition to his serving career, was also studying Wildlife Biology, and he was amazing at massages.
Over the course of the following week, the space between Harry and Liam on the sofa closed ever so slightly, until Harry came to realize that Liam’s lap was his favorite place in the world.
Over the course of the next three months, Liam realized that Harry was his favorite person in the world, and he wasn’t about to let the younger boy forget it.
Harry, on the other hand, was hyper aware that he was still dating this boy, this handsome, funny, smart, amazing boy, on a bet. Naturally, he kind of hated himself for falling in love. Harry had been firmly braced for rejection the morning that marked three months, so this time when he heard Liam knocking at his door, he intentionally took extra time getting there, since he hadn’t expected to find Liam down on one knee in the pouring rain.
“Hi Harry.” Liam smiled brilliantly as the rain beat down on him. “I’ve got a question to ask you.”
“Liam!” Harry was torn between laughing and crying, “Are you sure? You seem a little crazy right now, love.”
“I know, but it’s only crazy if you say yes.” Liam told him, slicking his hair back and looking up at the beautiful man he was sure he was meant to marry. “Harry Edward Styles, three months ago today, I told you I could spend a lifetime with you, not only do I stand by that statement today, I’m not sure how I could live out the rest of my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”
The crying side definitely took over once Liam had gotten to the end of his monologue, and Harry was struggling to keep it together. What was he going to tell his mum? “Yes.” Harry answered, nodding his head and wiping his tears all at once, “Liam, I’ll marry you, now get out of the rain.”
Liam took a moment to fully comprehend what Harry had said, but the second he did he sprung up and crashed against Harry in a kiss, his arms wrapping around him as tight as they possibly could.
“I love you.” Liam told him, and then kissed him again, “So much, I’d marry you today.”
“Do you want to?” Harry asked, watching as Liam slid the ring onto his finger, wondering when in the world Liam had measured his fingers to get one that fit just that perfectly.
“Of course I want to.” Liam replied, “But I don’t think that’s going to happen for some time.”
Harry pouted, sitting in Liam’s lap on the sofa now. “Why not?”
“Laws, Haz.” Liam reminded his now-fiancé gently.
“Fuck laws, surely we can get married somewhere, can’t we?” Harry asked, “It’s nineteen ninety seven, goddammit.”
Liam thought about that for a moment, “You wanna go to the library and find out?” He asked.
“I do, there’s no way I’m waiting on some old white dudes to sign papers so I can marry you.” Harry huffed, already getting up and sliding his shoes on, grabbing an umbrella for the both of them and setting off towards the library in the middle of campus.
As it turned out, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Greenland, and Iceland were all valid options.
Harry let go of the mouse and turned around to face Liam, “See? We could totally get married today.”
“You proved me wrong.” Liam agreed, “Which one do you want to go to?”
“Hm.” Harry paused, clicking around once again and looking at foreign policies, “Denmark seems to be the easiest, plus, we can see the Northern Lights, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Two nights later, Harry and Liam found themselves in front of the mayor of a small village just outside Copenhagen, each saying “I do” and entering into the world of civil partnership under Danish law.
The ceremony was beautiful, and sweet, and everything Harry wanted, but he already knew he loved Liam, the discovery of the trip was yet to come.
The day after, Harry and Liam decided to go for a walk out in the forest as a newly wedded couple. Harry had brought some of his smaller filming equipment because he couldn’t stand to not capture the beauty, the forest was really like another planet. Harry had laid down on the ground to get a shot while Liam looked around, when suddenly a small rodent made its way into Harry’s shot.
“Liam!” Harry whispered, getting his husband’s attention, “What is that? Will it hurt me?”
Liam turned his attention to look at what Harry was looking at, and then laughed quietly. “It won’t hurt you.” He answered first, then moved to sit down next to Harry very gently. “That’s a European water vole, he probably lives near that river we saw a bit back, they only eat grass and plants, the only way it’s going to bite you is if you pick it up, they’re native to this area, but we have them back home too, babe.”
By the time Liam had finished talking, the vole had run off, but Harry had stopped looking anyway, instead watching Liam in amazement.
“That was really cool.” He told him, trying not to show his excitement too much.
“Thanks.” Liam replied, getting up and brushing himself off, “I’d like to think my education is doing something for me.”
“You know.” Harry started, “We could like, do that, like, I could document stuff and you could do the information bit, make like, a documentary or something.”
“We could do that.” Liam agreed, and when he got back to the UK, he had both a husband and a career.
On the same day as Harry’s graduation, HBO bought the season they’d already produced and commissioned another. He wondered what his life would be like if his boyfriend had never broken up with him in a fancy restaurant.
Liam decided to let Harry wake up at his leisure, which happened to be only about forty five minutes later, as Harry had come outside and curled up in Liam’s lap, letting out a yawn. “Happy anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary, baby.” Liam returned, petting Harry’s hair. He was thirty seven years old, he ran a small media empire with his husband, and he had certainly had married a beautiful man.