Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (oral sex, tiny bit of comeplay, one of the participants is sixteen).
Word Count: 4918
Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction and make no aspersions toward their sexualities, nor do I believe that anything I write is fact.
Summary: Harry knows the moment he meets Louis that Louis is his soulmate. It's frustrating when Louis doesn't realize it as quickly.
Author's Note: This fic is for Catie who came up with the whole basic plot. Writing it made me remember all the things I love about this pairing, so I hope you like it, doll! :D ♥
When Harry meets Louis, he decides he’s found his soulmate.
It’s not that big of a deal, actually. The first day they’re at the bungalow, he and Louis spend every minute of it together. When Louis lets Harry fall asleep on his shoulder beside the fire, Harry drowsily muses that it’s good he’s met the person he’s meant to be with so early in his life.
Unfortunately, Louis does not seem to come to the same conclusion. Harry sits on his lap, and lets Louis play with his hair all he wants, and he stares at Louis with such obvious adoration that even Niall notices. Harry hasn’t known Niall very long, but his experience with him so far tells him that Niall doesn’t notice much that’s not edible or alcoholic.
So even Niall has noticed, and Zayn’s noticed, and Liam has noticed, and Harry’s fucking mum has noticed, and Louis has not noticed.
Louis just smiles at Harry loads and cuddles him at every opportunity and lets Harry give him naked octopus hugs.
“You know you’re sort of dating Louis?” asks Liam while they’re on the plane to Barbados and Louis has gone to use the toilet. Liam sounds like he’s striving for casual but he really just sounds a bit bewildered.
Harry hums in response, leaning his head onto Liam’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause where Harry can nearly hear Liam thinking. “Are you just really good at not getting caught, then? Only none of us have seen you actually. Doing anything?”
“Well – wait, do you three just sit around and talk about this when we’re not around?” Harry doesn’t know whether to feel affronted or amused. A glance at Liam’s red face and he decides, breaking into a smile.
He’s distracted by Niall’s face, peering between the seats in front of Harry and Liam.
“It’s not like we’ve got loads to do while you and Lou are off playing hide the sausage,” Niall reasons, his blond head moving from side to side as his eyebrows move up and down.
“We’re not, though,” responds Harry. His smile collapses into a sigh. “Playing hide the sausage.” He wrinkles his nose. “Classy.”
“You know it.”
“But.” Liam’s voice interrupts the battle of suggestive looks Harry’s started with Niall. “What do you mean you’re not-? Stop that.” He gives Niall a dirty look, and Niall sticks his tongue out in return.
“I mean what I said,” Harry replies. He pushes his hand against Niall’s face because he feels like it. Niall immediately tries to bite Harry’s fingers, but Harry ignores him to continue speaking to Liam. “I think maybe he’s not aware we’re dating.”
Liam frowns, his eyebrows going all furrowed and cute like he’s trying to figure out a particularly difficult maths problem.
“How does that… work?” he finally asks. He bats at Harry’s arm. “Hey, stop that, I’m confused,” he instructs.
“Not any different from normal, then,” Niall cracks before diving back down into his own seat, cackling when Liam can’t hit him from that position.
“I just mean we haven’t, we haven’t called it anything, you know?” Harry can see by Liam’s face that he does not, in fact, know. “I keep giving him all these hints and stuff and he just… doesn’t get it. I dunno what else I can do.”
Liam frowns and opens his mouth to respond. Before he can, though, his eyes flick behind Harry’s head and his mouth snaps shut.
“Hello, what’s this?” comes Louis’s voice, curious and fond. Harry’s smiling even before he turns to see him. “Are we having a band meeting? Why wasn’t I invited?”
“I’m pretty sure Zayn’s asleep, and Niall’s… Anyway, it’d be a pretty terrible band meeting, just me and Harry.” Liam looks and sounds so earnest that Harry can’t even properly make fun of him.
Apparently Louis can’t, either, because he just makes a noise in the back of his throat and then takes his seat beside Harry.
“Just see that you don’t start loving Liam more than you love me,” he says. Harry shuffles in his seat until he can lean against Louis’s shoulder. Louis curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck.
Harry’s not too troubled like this, able to feel the warmth of Louis’s arm and feel the other boy’s cheek on top of his head. Really, it’s not so bad. How long can Louis possible be an idiot, anyway?
The answer to that question turns out to be, well. A long time.
It’s not that Harry’s not trying to get Louis to notice. He’s never really thought of himself as a subtle person, has Harry. It just doesn’t work for him.
But what Harry lacks in discretion, he makes up for in charm, or he thought he did, anyway. He’s never had any complaints.
He knows it sounds awful, but – Harry’s never had to work very hard to get the things he wants. Especially when that thing is sex.
Ever since he went through puberty, Harry’s been able to pick up people without trying. A flirty smile here, a suggestive touch there, and he was golden.
It isn’t fair at all. Harry’s stuck in a giant house with about twenty people and his soulmate, and he’s not having sex. It makes no sense, and he’s not happy about it.
It makes doubly little sense because he’s almost positive his feelings for Louis are mutual. When he’s being annoyingly demanding about cuddles, Louis is the first to offer him an arm to snuggle under.
Louis doesn’t care that Harry’s naked all the time, and he lets Harry sleep on him, and he always saves a bit of chocolate for him when he brings chocolate back from the shops. He’s perfect.
And Harry wants him. Harry wants Louis more than he’s wanted anything else in his life.
It’s got to be Karma, then, or irony or something, that this thing he wants more than anything else is the one thing he hasn’t been able to achieve.
No matter how much Harry flirts, or shows off his cock (he’s got a nice cock, and knowing about it’s not a crime) or makes Louis laughs, the only orgasms Harry’s getting are from his own hand.
“Why doesn’t he want to fuck me?” he complains to Niall, who seems far less annoyed by this turn of events than Harry is. “Everyone wants to fuck me.”
“I don’t want to fuck you,” Niall replies not-at-all helpfully. He gives Harry a lovely scratch behind his ear, though, so that’s easily forgiven. He’d forgive Niall loads of things, actually. Niall makes him sandwiches sometimes.
Still, he feels like he should protest, somehow.
“Hey,” he says, frowning. “Why don’t you, then? Maybe it’s the same reason he won’t.”
Niall snorts. “Because I like girls, mate,” he says patiently. “Have you tried just asking him? You know, talking?”
What a ludicrous idea. Harry’s frown deepens. “No, what’d the sense in that be? Rude, first of all. Can’t just up and snog him, can I? What if he screams? Or, like, hits me? No, I’ve got to test the water first. Get my toes wet before I just jump in.”
Niall looks skeptical. “If you say so.”
“Maybe I’m not being obvious enough,” Harry muses. “Do you think I need to step it up? I thought I was being really clear but maybe he’s just stupid.”
Harry’s pretty sure Niall’s given up on him, from the heavy sigh he releases. “Yeah, step it up,” he agrees. “Give the rest of us a laugh, anyway.”
“Glad to have the support,” Harry grumbles. “I don’t even know how to try harder. I’m giving him all my best moves and he isn’t budging.”
“You mean like yesterday when you ate that banana for about six hours?” asks Niall. “I thought that was inspired. Don’t know how he resisted.”
“Your cheek is unnecessary, Horan.” Harry bites Niall’s shoulder. It makes him yelp, and he gives Harry a firm smack on the back of the head.
“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re serious because you go around biting all of us all the time.”
Harry considers this. “No, can’t be that. It’s different.”
He just has to make Louis see that.
Louis, as it happens, is very difficult to affect. It isn’t as though Harry’s not being obvious enough. Can’t be.
Harry doesn’t take flirting lightly. He doesn’t even try to make it discreet. He wouldn’t have anyway, but especially not with Louis, who doesn’t particularly strike him as the type to appreciate subtlety.
He tries to change his approach. If it’s being obvious Louis needs, Harry supposes he’ll just have to turn it up. As much as he can, anyway, without it being obscene.”
It doesn’t take much prodding to get Niall to let Harry bum a lollipop off him. Harry’s got a great pleading face and he’s pretty sure aside from that, Niall’s looking forward to watching Harry make an idiot out of himself. Not that he will. Harry is a master of seduction. He just sometimes needs a little help.
Niall’s given him a cherry one, partially because he says they taste like medicine and partially because Harry’s always loved a classic. You don’t see anybody in films getting seduced by lemon.
It’s foolproof, of course. After this, Louis will have to let Harry suck his dick.
He unwraps the sweet with a flourish to make sure Louis is paying attention before he pops it into his mouth.
“Where’d you get that, then?” Louis asks him, lounging on his bed as he flips through his phone.
Harry tries his best to slide the lolly from his mouth sexily. He makes a sort of slurping sound, but that’s alright, isn’t it? Blowjobs are slurpy.
“Niall,” he replies, holding the shiny, red sweet out toward Louis. “Want a lick?”
Louis barely blinks. “Cheeky of you to offer after you’ve already slobbered all over it.”
“Well, if you don’t want any,” Harry says, bringing the lollipop back to his mouth. He doesn’t wrap his lips around it, instead pursing them and sucking a kiss from the little red ball. He can see that Louis is still looking at him, so he flicks his tongue out in a kitten lick.
Louis clears his throat.
“Er,” he says. He sounds flustered a little, and it takes all Harry has in him not to smirk. “Is that good, then?”
Actually, Niall was right, it tastes a bit like cough syrup. The sacrifices Harry’s making for Louis better be worth it.
“Delicious,” says Harry. He gives the lollipop another firm lick with the flat of his tongue. “Sure you don’t want any?”
It takes Louis a moment to respond. “Uh, no, thanks. I’ll get one from Niall later or something. Don’t really like cherry, actually.”
“Do you like lemon better?” Harry frowns. He might have to reconsider this soulmate thing, then.
“What? Oh, no. I’ll probably have an orange one.” Louis sounds dazed and Harry wants to cheer. “I like orange.”
“I like orange, as well,” Harry tells him. “Cherry’s still nice, isn’t it? I think cherry’s best.” Harry wraps his tongue around the sweet, keeping his eyes on Louis.
“Cherry’s alright, I guess,” Louis agrees. “Er, I’m gonna put the kettle on, I think. D’you want tea?” He doesn’t wait for Harry’s response before getting up from his bed. “I’ll make you a cup.”
“How can I have tea if I’m eating –“ Harry starts to say around his lollipop, but Louis is already halfway out the door, muttering about milk and sugar.
Harry sighs and gives his lolly a forlorn lick. Better luck next time, he supposes.
He isn’t going to give up, is the thing. Maybe he should, because there’s every possibility that Louis just doesn’t feel the same way, except Harry knows that’s not true. There’s not – unrequited soulmates, that’s not a thing. He’s sure it’s not just him. He’s sure that with enough hints, Louis will understand they’re meant to be together.
As time goes on, Harry’s becoming more and more worried that he’s turning into a particularly stalkerish embodiment of a Taylor Swift song.
What else can he do, though? It’s not like he’s ever had to do this before. Louis should be falling all over himself to give Harry a go. Harry’s sucked off more ice lollies in the past week than he cares to think about. It’s November. This is ridiculous.
Niall’s completely given up on him now. When he sees Harry muttering to himself he just veers off in the other direction, or, more often, laughs at him. Harry’s taken to doing all his planning under the cover of night, which mostly means he waits until the others have fallen asleep and jerks off thinking about Louis’s abs or his mouth or his dick.
Harry doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to be doing. Maybe Louis doesn’t believe in soulmates. Or maybe Harry needs to step up his game.
Honestly, though, there’s only so much more Harry can do without actually dropping to his knees and sucking Louis’s dick.
At this point he’s actually considering it. The possibility of Louis thinking he’s too forward has got to be better than all this ridiculous sexual tension. What’s the worst Louis could do? Not let Harry blow him? Actually, that thought’s pretty daunting. Harry really, really wants to suck Louis’s cock.
It’s just so confusing because Harry knows Louis feels the same, has to believe Louis feels the same or he’ll go mad. Louis calls him babe and smiles at Harry like he’s special. Harry has to believe that means something. Even if Louis doesn’t realize that, yet.
Liam keeps trying to give Harry advice without explicitly mentioning Louis at all.
“Do you think maybe you should back off a little?” he’ll say, or, “We should probably be focusing on the show, anyway.”
Harry thinks Liam probably hasn’t met his soulmate yet, or he’d understand. Harry can’t give up. He just can’t.
It’s a while before Harry can think of another plan, in between rehearsals, and interviews, and sleeping. He’s sure this one will work, though. It has to. Louis will stop being an idiot and realize he’s madly in love with Harry as well and everything will be perfect.
All he’s got to do is manage to be naked in a place Louis will be. He does that all the time, anyway, so it shouldn’t be too terribly difficult.
Harry enlists Niall’s help to get Zayn and Liam away from their shared room and then strips off, giving himself a cursory glance to make sure everything looks alright. It does. He hopes Louis thinks so, too.
He reclines on his bed and arranges himself so that he looks like he’s been sleeping and it just so happens that his cock’s properly on display. It’s more impressive when he’s hard, but he doesn’t want to scare Louis off, springing erections on him with not so much as a how-do.
It only takes a few minutes for Louis to get up to the room, from where Harry knows he’d been playing FIFA downstairs with Aiden and Matt.
“Hey, Harry, did you –“ Louis’s voice cuts off, and Harry pretends to yawn, stretching his arms over his head. He looks good. Has to.
“Hi,” greets Harry, smacking his lips. “Did I what?”
“Sorry,” Louis apologizes. “I didn’t know you were asleep. I can come back later.”
He doesn’t sound affected at all. Damn it. Harry should’ve been a little more stingy with his nudity in the past few months.
“No, come have a cuddle,” he insists. He figures naked snuggling’s got to do something. “I’m cold.”
“Maybe you should put clothes on.” Louis sounds amused, but he shrugs. “Budge over, then. I call big spoon.”
Harry obliges and squirms back on the bed, flipping to his other side. Louis presses up warm and solid against Harry’s back, and Harry sighs happily. This is what he wanted.
“Still cold?” Louis asks him as he settles his head on the pillow behind Harry’s. “Want me to grab Liam’s duvet? He’s not using it and it smells the best.
“That’s because it’s four in the afternoon,” mumbles Harry. He is a bit tired, actually. All those hours spent awake planning the best way to get his mouth on his best friend are taking their toll. “No, I’m alright. Got you now, haven’t I?”
Louis snorts. “Is that all I’m good for? Keeping you warm?”
“Not all you’re good for, no.” Harry reaches back to pull Louis’s arm around him, snug and so, so warm. “Sometimes you bring me chocolate.”
“Mm.” Louis laughs into the back of Harry’s neck, and Harry wants. He can smell Louis, all sunshine and a little bit like Liam. Sort of smoky as well, and Harry supposes he must have been near Zayn at some point, too. “Go back to sleep, love.”
Harry doesn’t want to sleep. This wasn’t his plan at all. If it’s naps Louis finds sexy, Harry doesn’t stand a chance, not living in the same house as Zayn. He does feel so tired, though, and he’s got Louis in bed at least. That must count for something.
“I don’t want to sleep.” He twines his fingers with Louis’s to hold him where he is, even though Louis doesn’t seem inclined to move away. “I want to talk to you.”
“I’ll still be here when you wake up. You need sleep, babe. You’ve looked so tired lately. Get some rest.”
He presses his nose against Harry’s shoulder, and if Harry could, he thinks he would stay here forever. Just like this. He thinks that would be just about perfect.
“Stay with me?” Harry requests. Sleep if pulling him down and he’s powerless to resist. This was supposed to end in blowjobs, or at least in a nice bit of kissing, but Harry guesses this isn’t so bad. As he closes his eyes, Harry can imagine spending every afternoon like this, tucked up in bed with Louis, all sleepy and warm. There are worst ways to spend a day.
“Where else would I be?” Louis’s voice is quiet and fond, and Harry is so very, very in love. “Sleep, now.”
Harry does. It’s the best sleep he’s had in weeks.
Of course, once he’s woken up, and realized yet another of his plans has gone awry, he doesn’t feel quite as good. This time, he doesn’t even have anyone to blame but himself.
Louis didn’t even try to grope him a little. Harry’s close to giving up.
He spends a whole day winking at Louis and swaying his hips as well as he can without falling over and that gets him nowhere as well.
Niall’s stopped laughing at him. Now he just gives Harry sympathetic looks and brings him sandwiches more often. Harry appreciates it, but he’d much rather have Louis’s dick in his mouth than turkey and cheese.
Liam doesn’t seem to know how to act around Harry. Zayn… Zayn just watches, silently. Harry thinks Zayn probably knows so much more than he lets on.
And, well, Harry’s always been terrible at graciously accepting defeat.
“I give up,” he announces, dropping into Louis’s lap. Subtlety’s obviously not working, and Harry is through caring. He’s sulking and Louis is about to get an earful. “You win.”
“Oh, yay,” says Louis cheerfully. “What have I won?”
“The pieces of my heart.” Harry gives Louis his best frown. Louis doesn’t even have the grace to look repentant. He just looks bemused and stupidly attractive. It’s not fair. It’s still just so unfair.
“Is that supposed to be a euphemism or something?” asks Louis, shuffling Harry closer on his lap. “What are you talking about?”
“I just mean…” Harry swallows. This is harder to do than he’d thought it would be. He really wishes Louis would’ve gotten the soulmate thing as early on as Harry did. “It’s alright, if you just. Don’t. You know.”
“I really don’t, though,” Louis says. He looks concerned, and he tucks some of Harry’s hair behind his ear.
Harry looks at Louis seriously and leans a little closer. If he’s spending the rest of his life without his soulmate, he’s at least getting a snog first.
Louis laughs a little nervously, and his eyes are flitting from Harry’s mouth back to his eyes and then around the room. He looks like he always does when he’s uncomfortable and able to make a joke, and Harry is determined not to let that happen. He is getting his kiss.
“Ha–“ Louis starts, but Harry doesn’t let him finish. If Louis tries to make this into a joke then Harry will kill him, and he doesn’t know what happens when you murder your soulmate. It might kill him as well.
He’s grateful that Louis doesn’t push him off, or throw up on him. Actually, Louis kisses him back, and rather well, and, and, and, and Harry stops thinking. Instead he hooks his arms around Louis’s neck and leans into the kiss, until he’s got enough of an angle that he can kiss Louis as deep as he wants.
Louis still hasn’t pushed him off. He’s got his hands on Harry’s back, keeping him where he is, and when Harry gives his lower lip a bit of a cheeky nibble Louis lets out this noise that Harry wants to hear again and again.
“Wait, wait,” Louis gasps, his hand pushing insistently at the center of Harry’s chest. Harry doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to do anything but keep kissing Louis, and maybe finally getting to blow him, if he’s agreeable about that as well. “Harry, wait.”
“Why?” Harry whines, nearly throwing his hands in the air in frustration. He’s finally where he wants to be, and Louis’s still being difficult. “Why do I have to wait?”
“Because, I – I don’t understand,” Louis stammers, and he looks so cute when he’s confused but his mouth is red and wet. “Where did this come from?”
Louis still doesn’t get it and Harry wants to scream. Maybe he does need to be more upfront about it. He’s never telling Niall he was right, though, he’ll gloat for ages. “I’ve been trying to suck your cock for months,” he informs Louis, who about chokes on his tongue. “And if I have to wait much longer I’m gonna go suck off someone else just to spite you.”
“No, don’t do that.” Louis shakes his head, apparently still bewildered. “No, but – really? Months? You have not; I’d have noticed!”
“I’ve given like eighty banana blowjobs!” Harry exclaims. He really does throw his hands in the air this time. “What more do you need?”
“A conversation?” Louis asks, with wide eyes and what looks like an incredulous smile forming on his face. “Maybe you could’ve mentioned any of this?”
“Would’ve done, if I’d known you were this thick,” Harry grumbles. “Everyone else knew!”
“Is that why Niall’s been giving me nasty looks?” Louis frowns with a dawning sort of realization. “Seriously, this whole time? I just thought you really liked fruit.”
“I really like you.” Harry gives Louis a half-hearted shove that’s more like a pat on the shoulder. “I thought you didn’t – well, I thought you did, too, but then you didn’t respond, at all, so I thought you didn’t. I’ve wanted you forever. Since I met you.”
Louis really is grinning now, wide and unabashed. “You’re such an idiot,” he tells Harry, and then before Harry can protest, he yanks him down into another kiss. This one is hard and unrelenting and glorious, and Harry has to bury his hands in Louis’s hair just to have something to hold on to.
He’s not sure how long they’re kissing before he recalls his primary objective, and this time it’s Harry who pulls away, though he can’t go very far, and has to give Louis another kiss when Louis makes a disgruntled sound.
“I really want to blow you,” Harry says solemnly, licking his lips. “Would that be alright, d’you think?”
“Such an idiot,” Louis mutters. “Yeah, it’d be alright. Fantastic, even. Brilliant.”
“Good.” Harry smiles beatifically at him and shimmies backward until he can lower himself onto his knees. He’s careful about it, because he’s done this enough that he knows his knees are going to hurt enough already without him attempting an efficient drop to the floor, no matter how eager he is.
Louis is hard in his boxers, and Harry’s mouth is just about watering. He’s thought about this for so long that for a moment after he pulls out Louis’s cock, he just looks at it. He’s seen it before (seen all of theirs, actually) but never like this. Never with the knowledge that he can and is going to put it in his mouth.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs, looking back up to Louis as he wraps his hand around the base of Louis’s dick to keep it steady. “I’m really going to enjoy this,” he informs Louis, before he leans in and licks the flat of his tongue over the head of Louis’s cock. The salt-bitter taste of pre-come blooms over Harry’s tongue strong and familiar. As Harry spreads his hands over Louis’s thighs, he can feel them trembling.
It’s been a while since Harry’s done this, but not so long that he’s forgotten everything he knows. It’s a bit like riding a bicycle, he thinks, mouthing down Louis’s shaft. Louis has a very nice dick. Harry hopes he can suck it every day for the rest of forever.
Louis touches Harry’s hair gently, and then with more intent, his fingers twining into Harry’s curls. Not pulling, just touching. It’s the sort of touch that makes Harry want to do well, be magnificent.
“You look so good,” Louis murmurs to him. “You look so – so good like this.”
Harry grins back at him and then fits his mouth around Louis’s dick, tracing the tip of his tongue over a vein on the underside. It makes Louis gasps, so Harry does it again, and then a third time. Louis’s hips are jerking in little twitches like he’s trying desperately not to choke Harry. It’s very gentlemanly of him, but Harry doesn’t want gentlemanly.
He wants Louis to fuck his mouth and pull his hair, and maybe kiss him some more afterward while his lips are still red and burning from the stretch. Harry knows they can’t; if nothing else, they’ve got the show on Saturday and he can’t risk his voice like that.
Someday, though. Someday Harry would like to do all that. He’ll tell Louis about it later.
He can still make a good go of it, even if he can’t do everything he wants. Louis’s cock is heavy and thick on his tongue, so full and stretching his lips just enough that it hurts a bit. He was right, Louis’s got a brilliant cock for sucking.
Harry sucks down a little more, enough to feel the tip of Louis’s cock tickle the back of his throat. His eyes flick back up to check Louis’s reaction and Louis looks… Awed, almost, as he reaches down and touches the corner of Harry’s mouth. It stings a little and Harry swallows, watching the column of Louis’s throat when it bobs.
“Not going to last,” Louis says, his voice low, his eyes dark. The high points of his cheekbones are flushed with color. “So good, babe, your mouth…”
Harry hums and slides back to let the head of Louis’s dick rest on his lower lip, flicking his tongue out to taste once more before Louis shudders and there’s a hot rush of fluid on Harry’s tongue. He jerks back a little at the first spurt of it and so ends up with a warm, wet smear of come all along his cheek. Louis laughs a little breathlessly and swipes his thumb along the mess of it.
Before Louis can wipe it off or something, Harry grabs his wrist and, gripping it gently, guides Louis’s thumb into his mouth. Louis blinks at him as Harry thoroughly cleans his skin of any residue, then kisses the tip of Louis’s thumb before letting him have his hand back.
Louis doesn’t say anything for a long moment, so Harry crawls back up and into his lap, resting his head against Louis’s shoulder and sighing happily. “Thank you,” he whispers with a voice even rougher than it usually is, kissing the place where Louis’s collarbone is peering out of the low neck of his shirt.
“I’m totally in love with you,” is Louis’s bewildered response before he looks briefly panicked. “Oh, God – not, that’s not what I – not that it’s not true, just that, I.” He looks a little put out when Harry starts laughing. “Shut up. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
“Stupid,” Harry whispers, pressing his lips against Louis’s cheek. “Lucky you’re my soulmate.”
“Lucky, yeah,” agrees Louis, and he still looks a little bewildered but mostly he looks soft and pleased. “Really, really lucky.”
The way he says it makes Harry feel like there’s someone in the world who cares about him more than they care about anything else. Like there’s somebody who thinks he’s special.
Harry thinks, maybe, in the end, that’s all there is to a soulmate. Maybe that’s all anybody really needs.
It’s all he needs, anyway.