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i'll pick you up and take you where you want

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Louis wakes up freezing cold and really, really needing to pee. He pushes his face into his pillow and tries to forget about his bladder and the pins and needles tingling in his left shoulder. His arm is twisted awkwardly and he has his hand clasped around something that feels like, oh -

He opens his eyes and sees Harry splayed out on his stomach, taking up more than his fair share of the bed. As usual. Normally, Louis would grumble and attempt to shove Harry off the mattress and onto the floor, or maybe steal all the blankets as payback, but not this morning.

No, this morning he’s woken up to find Harry’s fingers linked tightly with his own. Louis smiles ridiculously and all thoughts of freezing and uncomfortable are replaced with iamsoembarrassinglyinlove.

Louis reaches blindly for the bedside table to grab his phone. After groping at two condom wrappers and what feels like a sock, he successfully finds it and opens the camera app.

He’s still too half-asleep to hold it steady, but he manages to take a picture of his own arm extended towards Harry’s, as well as their joined hands resting between them.

Harry shifts slightly and mumbles into his pillow after the soft click of the camera goes off and Louis tenses, hoping not to wake him. Harry’s always been a heavy sleeper, though, and Louis makes sure he saves the photo before locking his phone again and dropping it carelessly onto the floor as he falls back to sleep.


The next time he wakes, Louis is wrapped around Harry’s back like an octopus. Harry’s awake now, too, content to lie with Louis in silence until they have to get ready and leave for a photoshoot.

Harry rolls over and smiles sleepily at Louis, before pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw in greeting. Louis nuzzles into Harry’s neck and rubs his back soothingly, whispering a “good morning” in return.

They laze about doing nothing but touching each other and pressing soft kisses here and there until Louis remembers the photo he took earlier. He leans over the side of the bed, ignoring Harry’s tiny mewl of protest, to reach for his phone.

He flicks straight to his camera roll and opens the image of their joined hands. He grins down at his phone and Harry leans over, trying to see, “what‘re you lookin’ at, Lou?”

Harry’s morning voice is so deep and rough Louis almost drops the phone again in favour of pressing Harry deep into the mattress and forcing more delicious sounds out of him. Harry repeats his question, however, breaking Louis away from his thoughts. He wordlessly hands over his phone and Harry blushes with a mixture of both embarrassment and pleasure as soon as he sees the image on the screen.

In the photo, Harry’s face is completely covered by his curls and there’s a patch of drool on his pillow, but it’s perfect all the same.