but you'd expect that from me | wolf!verse
title: but you'd expect that from me
pairing: harry/louis, liam/danielle
rating: m?
word count: 4,045
disclaimer: don't own anything, okay? don't sue me.
summary: in which harry is a werewolf and louis kind of hates it when he leaves.
a/n: oh god, i'm so sorry. this was supposed to be a short exercise to get this stupid idea out of my head but now it's 4k words with a shitty ending and i have ideas for further parts and i want to shoot myself a little bit. i apologise in advance for likely wasting your time.
At the first crack of dawn, Louis feels the sun straining through his eyelids.
Every month without fail, this was how his day starts. He awakens far earlier than his usual ten am start, only to stay tucked in bed without any thought of untangling himself and arising. He wraps himself tightly around the warm body beneath his own, knows he has to memorise the moment thoroughly.
He makes the most of every peaceful morning he can, allows his eyes to travel all over Harry’s features. Try as he might to resist, he can’t help but reach up to trace his strong brow, the way his eyelashes fallso soft across his pale skin, the small spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
This Harry he knows, his Harry, is so delicate. So far away from what he should be, what he needs to be simply because life has never been fair to him.
Yet Louis knows that although there’s a serene, harmless Harry - the Harry that he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with - there’s a whole other side of the man he loves that he isn’t allowed to witness; the cause of all the faded scars littering his pale body. He knows the great lengths that Harry goes to keep him away from that and keep him safe, knows that there’s no way around it, but Louis wants to yell that he should be keeping Harry safe, too. He knows knows knows that he can’t, it’s not that easy, but that’s what he’s supposed to do, right?
A soft sigh escapes Harry’s lips and Louis freezes, waits to make sure that Harry settles before he exhales and sinks down to align their bodies. He doesn’t want to wake him, knows that he has to conserve as much energy as possible.
He settles happily for dozing and tracing gentle patterns on the endless expanse of skin beneath him. The last thing he needs is more time to think, but he isn’t about to willingly give up any amount of time he has left with Harry . There’s only so many hours left before the real changes start to occur, and he’ll take every single one of them. When Harry wakes up, that time becomes even more inevitable.
It’s not long before he stirs of his own accord, arms tightening around Louis as he regains consciousness.
Louis tilts his face just so to kiss his collarbone gently, shifts up and folds both of his arms up under his chin in order to watch Harry more closely.
Stifling a yawn, Harry takes a moment to focus before realisation, and a smile, appears on his features.
“Mornin’ Lou,” Harry looks down at him, eyes still half bleary. “Stop bein’ a creep.” He brings up a hand to brush away Louis’ fringe, sticking down and flat from sleep, but it only falls back into his eyes. Harry huffs and does not move again to try to fix it.
Louis laughs gently, but says nothing. His head tilts and the amusement drains from his features, replaced slowly by something more like comprehension because god he can’t even look at Harry without thinking of everything, and not just everything, but everything that’s going to hurt so badly when the time comes. Thinks of an endless night of sleeping alone, thinks about Harry running around in the woods during the dark of night, of all the dangers he may have to face.
Despite his perpetual worry, Louis loves his life. He has Harry; he has a job that he loves. They’ve been living together since high school graduation and if he’s honest, Louis knew the moment their eyes met that he’d be marrying the boy someday. He struggles to remember a time when they weren’t attached at the hip. Not even Harry’s monthly issues (‘Louis, you make it sound like I’m getting periods or something’) could deter him.
Harry nuzzles his forehead gently with his nose, leaves a soft peck while he’s there. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“How would you know?”
“You always get this little frown when you concentrate like that. Don’t want you to have an aneurysm.”
Louis makes a conscious effort to relax his brow and opens his mouth to retort but then oh, right, that. He shakes his head, scrunches his nose playfully.
“Sometimes you’re way too curly for your own good.” Harry laughs, loud and uncensored, and Louis has to duck into the crook of his neck to stop the smile from spreading across his face too obviously.
“I try.” Harry pauses quickly, rubbing a hand up and down Louis’ back. “But honestly. Lou, what’s on your mind.”
Louis bites his lip, tries not to scoff because of course Harry knows what he’s thinking about. He’s not that ignorant. Though it’s the last thing he wants, he’s just giving Lou the chance to let it out, he just doesn’t want him to keep it hidden.
“You’re leaving me.” He mutters, settles for that and nothing more.
Harry frowns, and there‘s a distinctly troubled tone laced through his voice when he responds, “I’m so sorry, babe. You know if I could... If I didn’t have to, I’d be right here with you. But it’s not... I can’t.”
Though he nods, Louis bites his lip almost immediately and refuses to catch Harry’s gaze.
“Lou,” Harry says, a sigh, before he surges forward to press their lips together.
-
Time is something Louis knows they aren’t in abundance of, so he’s okay with the rapid pace they get there, he really is. They shed clothes as though they’re sprinting towards the finish line, barely give each other a look-over before they’re pressed together again.
They are connected, in all sense of the word. Physically, mentally, Louis knows somewhere deep down that their very souls are connected. It’s no surprise that in such times, times of comfort and need and desperation, that they are so easily on the same page. Their lips stay seemingly glued together, only detaching in search of air, and to be otherwise attached to jaws and necks and generally in use.
They prepare quickly, and it isn’t long before Louis is begging and writhing in Harry’s lap because oh, right there and yes Haz, please, more. He feels the need to anchor himself straight to Harry, doesn’t want any part of the moment to end when he sinks down and seats himself flush in Harry’s lap.
“God, look at you, Lou. So gorgeous,” He breathes, hands running up and down Louis’ sides before resting on his hips, holding him steady. He looks up in deep bliss and wonder at the glow of exertion across his face and fuck he’s in love.
But then Louis is leaning down, crashing their lips together once more as he rolls his hips as he bounces and Harry can’t manage another word.
-
When Danielle and Liam arrive around lunchtime, the two are far more presentable.
Liam immediately rolls his eyes at the sight of Harry answering the door in a pair of old, tattered sweatpants and nothing more, berating him, “It’s after twelve, Harry.”
Harry shrugs, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Payne. Hello Dani, you look exquisite today.”
Danielle laughs, light and genuine, and shoves him lightly in the arm. “Nice to see you, too, but you should save the charm, Styles. You might need a favour one day.”
Growling lightly because god he really needs new friends who don’t make his life difficult, he allows the two to move past him into the house, and makes a mental note to remind Liam to marry the girl one day.
They’re already greeting Louis by the time Harry makes it to the kitchen, (“Really, Louis, boxers? You couldn’t have bothered with a shirt? Or pants?” “Just how are you not used to this yet, Liam?”) and he can’t help but smile at the familiarity as he resumes making pasta. It’s not that things have ever been normal for the four of them, things have never been normal as long as they’ve known each other, but there’s a particular sense of comfort in knowing that they’re never alone - knowing that Louis never has to be alone when he’s gone.
“So how’s work going, babe?” Louis asks from his perch atop the counter. He can feel Liam’s glare on him, can imagine what’s going through his head (“Food is prepared on that!”), but he’s far too comfortable to bother putting anything on over his boxers.
Danielle sinks onto one of the bar stools and shrugs, “Not too bad. I mean, teaching a class of ten preschoolers isn’t exactly ideal, but it’s better than still working at the grocery store.”
“But you’re not dancing?”
She pauses. bites her lip, “Really, what chance is there of being a professional dancer here? I don’t want to get my hopes up about something that won’t happen.”
“I say you try anyway. Make one of those Youtube videos. Hell, you can even recruit those little rats as back-up dancers. That’s how all famous people are discovered now, isn’t it?”
“Louis,” Liam interjects, “They’re children, not rats.”
The conversation continues easily, even after Harry serves up their lunch and steps between Louis’ parted legs in order to share the same bowl, not one thing seems remotely out of place and he can easily ignore the feeling settling in his stomach.
-
Tangled in each other, feeding each other, Louis can feel the way that Harry’s muscles have already begun to expand. His arms and chest and shoulders have broadened and thickened considerably. Even under these circumstances, he finds it attractive.
But he’s already grown at least two inches which isn’t fair at all because the little shit is already taller than him and it was emasculating enough that he had to reach in order to kiss him in the first place, but those few extra inches feel like a mile and god he was tall.
These changes were all a part of what was going to take Harry away from him, he knew that, but he couldn’t hate it. It was just Harry, just his Harry and there was not one stage during the whole process where he felt anything but adoration for the boy, perhaps only sorrow and the desperate need to try to help, to stop him from having to deal with the pain of morphing into a werecreature that may or may not want to devour human flesh.
(Not that Louis knew, but Harry thanked God and pack-leader Paul and Oprah Winfrey and whoever he could that he had an entire pack and hundreds of acres of wood to stop him from having to find out, to help him ignore the constant stream of Louislouislouislouisprettyperfectlovelovematelouismatematemate and let things run their course)
-
The day passes more quickly than Louis is prepared for, and a sense of dread blankets him at the sight of the setting sun. They’ve relocated to the porch over the course of the day in order to take full advantage of the summer sun, though a now-clothed Louis drapes himself over an also-clothed Harry, where he sits against a column.
Liam and Danielle speak softly where they’re cuddled on the swing seat, but Louis is happy to settle for quiet as he fusses over Harry, runs his fingers through his hair and nuzzles gently into the crook of his neck. He peppers kisses to whatever skin he can find, runs his cool hand in nondescript patterns across the muscles of his stomach, does whatever he can to soothe the boy.
It had been an hour since Harry had begun showing signs of discomfort, though Louis noticed every one of them. He was never able to settle still, no matter what Louis did to calm him, and he caught him picking at his skin and knew that it felt as though something was itching and crawling beneath it. When he turned to find Harry gritting the teeth, which now resembled blunt looking fangs, it was like a timer started counting down in his head.
He knew it wouldn’t be too long, and was hardly surprised when Liam addressed them, “Haz, it’s almost time.”
Harry sighs, tries not to frown while Liam can see, “I know, just a bit longer.”
His arms tighten around Louis’ waist minutely, but Louis notices anyway, presses closer and kisses into his jaw.
“Don’t want to go,” Harry growls into his skin, and if Louis’ heart wasn’t already in pieces, well fuck.
“Don’t want you to go. I want you right here with me.”
“I’ll stay, I’ll be a good house pet. We can cuddle and I’ll just sleep, and I won’t hurt anyone, I promise.”
“Harry,” Liam responds before Louis has a chance. His voice is pained, and he can tell that his friend is struggling as much as Harry, who’s trembling with effort of remaining in control beneath him.
Surging forward, Louis kisses him. It’s quick and desperate and why is it so hard?
“You go,” Louis reasons, “You go and chase some squirrels and look after Liam, and do... whatever it is that you do out there, and you know I’ll be right here waiting when you come back.”
Harry nods and nuzzles his neck, wants to stick himself right there, attached to his Louis and never leave again, and it’s so unfair but he’s found the love of his life, so he’ll take what he can get. He picks Louis up off his lap with a newfound ease and places him on the step beside him, hands stroking gently.
“Ready, Li?”
“Yeah, yeah... it’s time.”
Automatically, Harry moves to kiss Danielle’s cheek and say his goodbyes, and Louis stands to do the same with Liam. He wraps his arms around his torso, and can’t help from whispering desperately, “Please, please Liam, take care of him.”
Liam’s arms tighten around him for a moment, his amplified body engulfing Louis’ own. “You know I will. And you’ll make sure Dani’s okay?”
“Of course. I’ll miss you, bud.”
“No house parties, you hear?”
Louis laughs in spite of himself, “You don’t even live here, you twat.”
It only takes a moment of Liam ruffling his hair, and then he’s face to face with Harry again. They contemplate each other for a mere moment before they’re falling forward and clinging to each other, a tangle of limbs and everything they want to say to each other.
“It won’t be long, I promise.”
“I love you-”
“Love you so much-”
“Be safe, please just be safe-”
“I’ll be fine, okay?”
“Just come back to me.”
“Think of you the whole time-”
It doesn’t make sense, just a jumbled mess, but the reassurance is all they need.
And then, like that, they’re kissing. Harry lifts Louis up to his level, and it's all legs lips waist lips hair, arms wrapped so tightly around him that it hurts, but Louis takes it. His hands clutch at Harry’s face like it’s a lifeline and it is.
Their lips move together, and everything else seems simply irrelevant. For a moment, they’re living in a perfect world where Harry doesn’t have to go anywhere and Louis isn’t thinking of all the different ways he could be hurt while he’s gone. For the first time in a week, Louis is calm and at peace.
But then there’s Liam with a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder and a concerned look of his face and no, he’s not ready.
“I love you, I love you so much. Remember that, okay, please?”
“Harry,” Liam warns.
“I know, babe, I know. I love you, too. You just wait, I’ll be right back here before you know it.”
Harry kisses him one last time and lowers Louis to his feet, finally letting go. “It’s not goodbye, you know that.”
Louis nods, and they both look to Liam as he releases his hold of Danielle’s hand and starts to move with the same sense of resignation that fills them from head to toe. He ushers Harry forward, and it’s at that point that the reality hits Louis, the fact that Harry is leaving and he’s walking away and he's not turning around and there’s not one thing he can do about it. By the time it does, he’s too far away to reach and he knows that it would only hurt him to try.
“Fuck,” He whispers, and Harry turns around to catch his gaze one last time before he and Liam are disappearing into the woods before them.
-
Only when he’s sure that they’re far enough away does Harry slump into one of the trees, shuddering and breathing heavily and aching all over.
“It n-never gets any easier,” he pants. “Just... fuck.”
Liam grunts, “What, this, or leaving them?” Harry sees the look of heartbreak on Louis’ face flash in front of him and knows there is literally nothing harder than that.
(Louislouislouismatematemateloveprettymategorgeousmateperfectmatelovelouis)
-
Louis stays outside long after the two disappear, long enough to hear the first mournful howl over the wind before he makes his way inside. Danielle is waiting with a cup of tea and he’s never been happier to sink back into the couch, pulling the sleeves of his (Harry’s) jumper down further over his hands. They sit in silence, but it’s mostly comfortable, only the weight of the situation over their heads to bring them down.
“He loves you so much, you know.”
Louis raises his eyes to meet Danielle’s, brows furrowed.
"Dani?"
"So much it's ridiculous."
He nods, “You know I love him, too.”
“You know what he told me, just before they left?” Louis’ face starts draining of its colour, because oh lord, what did he tell her? There were so many things that he really hoped no one would ever know, but of course Harry would accidentally let something slip. Danielle snorts at the expression on his face, “Oh, you dork, of course he would never say anything bad about you.”
Louis blushes, looks down at his lap with a small smile on his face. “He’s, uh, he’s a bit of a nut.”
“He told me you’re precious, that you’re his mate, and that I’ve got to keep you safe.”
Immediately, his eyes snap up, comically wide and glistening suspiciously.
“His mate?”“Yeah.”
“... Fucking Curly.”
Danielle laughs again, as free and unabashed as ever. “He meant every word, you know, he adores you.”
“Oh my god Dani, please stop gushing about our relationship. You’re in love with an idiot, too, you know how it feels.”
“I guess, but you two... you’re something different,” She bites her lip and Louis has a feeling she’s searching for the right words. “You orbit each other. I mean, I love Liam and he loves me, but I’ve never seen anything like you and Harry.” Danielle sips from her tea, a small smirk apparent as she observes the blush across his face.
“Just because... we’re not...”
“Ridiculously, stupidly in love with one another? Lou, you’re so far past being able to deny that one.”
“No, I know that. I love him more than anything, I just know we’re not the only two people to ever be in love or anything like that.” Louis pauses and shrugs while Danielle simply looks on, waiting for him to continue. “But you know what this is like, you know how hard it is, having to watch them walk away and put themselves in danger and keep your head up high. And I’d be useless without him. I am.”
Danielle reaches out and grasps his hand, and for a moment Louis doesn’t quite know what he’d do without her.
“You know he puts your life so far above his own, right? Lou, he lights up whenever you even look at him and I have a feeling that if you told him you thought that about yourself, he’d fight you to the death to prove you wrong. You know you could tell that boy that you’ve decided to become an Amish prostitute or something equally as stupid and he’d just think the sun shines out of your ass?”
Immediately, Louis feels a flush of something like adoration and okay, so he knows just why his friend makes such a good teacher, and thinks that it’s really kind of a shame that she isn’t already a mother to a thousand adorable children. Her ability to soothe and comfort really was wasted on him and on Harry and their non-existent problems.
Louis’ voice is filled with only affection as he manages to sputter out, “He’s a bit mental.”
“What does that make you, then?” Danielle laughs.
“... Just as mental?”
“Thought so.”
They continue talking long after their tea has been drained and the moon reaches its highest point in the sky. They talk about their own lives, their jobs, their stupid boyfriends; about everything that they can think of. It flows easily, as it always has, and although Louis is stuck with a definite feeling of loss and want and need he’s mostly content. Though they’re both missing someone, they at least have each other.
“I guess I should be getting home,” Danielle says eventually, when they seem to start drifting out of conversation and consciousness. “Work is going to absolutely kill me tomorrow.”
Louis scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous, just stay here. We don’t have a spare room but I’m sure Haz and Liam won’t mind if we share a bed. You can just get up in the morning and go home to change and everything’ll be fine, right?”
“You sure?”
“Of course. It’s late, Dan, I wouldn’t make you drive home now.”
She pauses, contemplating. “I hope to God that your bed is sanitary.”
“... Just because I love you, I’ll change the sheets, babe.”
-
Louis lends Danielle an old shirt and pair of tartan pajama pants, and before they know it, they’re heading off to bed. It’s not ideal, and it’s oddly foreign to share the bed with someone other than Harry, but he’s sincerely happy that he isn’t alone. Somehow, it’s easier, and the night hasn’t passed as slowly as usual (he hasn’t been left alone with his thoughts), and the absence he feels isn’t as prominent as usual. It doesn’t feel like he’s exposing a gaping, bleeding wound. Tonight it’s just a scrape - stinging and ever present, but he knows that it will soon heal without a scar.
He allows one last wistful look out the window (and must be hallucinating, because he swears he sees a pair of gleaming green eyes shift behind the tree line), before he tucks both Danielle and himself in, pulling up the covers as they lay side by side.
It isn’t long before he hears it once again - the wolf’s howl, low and sorrowful. Somehow, somewhere deep inside, he knows that it’s Harry, knows that it’s a call directly to him. A goodnight, I love you, see you soon maybe.
In that moment, he can’t help but reach out a shaking hand to grasp Danielle’s own, holding it tightly in his until he slowly drifts off to sleep, dreaming of a familiar set of green eyes.
(Harryharryharryharryharry)
pairing: harry/louis, liam/danielle
rating: m?
word count: 4,045
disclaimer: don't own anything, okay? don't sue me.
summary: in which harry is a werewolf and louis kind of hates it when he leaves.
a/n: oh god, i'm so sorry. this was supposed to be a short exercise to get this stupid idea out of my head but now it's 4k words with a shitty ending and i have ideas for further parts and i want to shoot myself a little bit. i apologise in advance for likely wasting your time.
At the first crack of dawn, Louis feels the sun straining through his eyelids.
Every month without fail, this was how his day starts. He awakens far earlier than his usual ten am start, only to stay tucked in bed without any thought of untangling himself and arising. He wraps himself tightly around the warm body beneath his own, knows he has to memorise the moment thoroughly.
He makes the most of every peaceful morning he can, allows his eyes to travel all over Harry’s features. Try as he might to resist, he can’t help but reach up to trace his strong brow, the way his eyelashes fallso soft across his pale skin, the small spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
This Harry he knows, his Harry, is so delicate. So far away from what he should be, what he needs to be simply because life has never been fair to him.
Yet Louis knows that although there’s a serene, harmless Harry - the Harry that he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with - there’s a whole other side of the man he loves that he isn’t allowed to witness; the cause of all the faded scars littering his pale body. He knows the great lengths that Harry goes to keep him away from that and keep him safe, knows that there’s no way around it, but Louis wants to yell that he should be keeping Harry safe, too. He knows knows knows that he can’t, it’s not that easy, but that’s what he’s supposed to do, right?
A soft sigh escapes Harry’s lips and Louis freezes, waits to make sure that Harry settles before he exhales and sinks down to align their bodies. He doesn’t want to wake him, knows that he has to conserve as much energy as possible.
He settles happily for dozing and tracing gentle patterns on the endless expanse of skin beneath him. The last thing he needs is more time to think, but he isn’t about to willingly give up any amount of time he has left with Harry . There’s only so many hours left before the real changes start to occur, and he’ll take every single one of them. When Harry wakes up, that time becomes even more inevitable.
It’s not long before he stirs of his own accord, arms tightening around Louis as he regains consciousness.
Louis tilts his face just so to kiss his collarbone gently, shifts up and folds both of his arms up under his chin in order to watch Harry more closely.
Stifling a yawn, Harry takes a moment to focus before realisation, and a smile, appears on his features.
“Mornin’ Lou,” Harry looks down at him, eyes still half bleary. “Stop bein’ a creep.” He brings up a hand to brush away Louis’ fringe, sticking down and flat from sleep, but it only falls back into his eyes. Harry huffs and does not move again to try to fix it.
Louis laughs gently, but says nothing. His head tilts and the amusement drains from his features, replaced slowly by something more like comprehension because god he can’t even look at Harry without thinking of everything, and not just everything, but everything that’s going to hurt so badly when the time comes. Thinks of an endless night of sleeping alone, thinks about Harry running around in the woods during the dark of night, of all the dangers he may have to face.
Despite his perpetual worry, Louis loves his life. He has Harry; he has a job that he loves. They’ve been living together since high school graduation and if he’s honest, Louis knew the moment their eyes met that he’d be marrying the boy someday. He struggles to remember a time when they weren’t attached at the hip. Not even Harry’s monthly issues (‘Louis, you make it sound like I’m getting periods or something’) could deter him.
Harry nuzzles his forehead gently with his nose, leaves a soft peck while he’s there. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“How would you know?”
“You always get this little frown when you concentrate like that. Don’t want you to have an aneurysm.”
Louis makes a conscious effort to relax his brow and opens his mouth to retort but then oh, right, that. He shakes his head, scrunches his nose playfully.
“Sometimes you’re way too curly for your own good.” Harry laughs, loud and uncensored, and Louis has to duck into the crook of his neck to stop the smile from spreading across his face too obviously.
“I try.” Harry pauses quickly, rubbing a hand up and down Louis’ back. “But honestly. Lou, what’s on your mind.”
Louis bites his lip, tries not to scoff because of course Harry knows what he’s thinking about. He’s not that ignorant. Though it’s the last thing he wants, he’s just giving Lou the chance to let it out, he just doesn’t want him to keep it hidden.
“You’re leaving me.” He mutters, settles for that and nothing more.
Harry frowns, and there‘s a distinctly troubled tone laced through his voice when he responds, “I’m so sorry, babe. You know if I could... If I didn’t have to, I’d be right here with you. But it’s not... I can’t.”
Though he nods, Louis bites his lip almost immediately and refuses to catch Harry’s gaze.
“Lou,” Harry says, a sigh, before he surges forward to press their lips together.
-
Time is something Louis knows they aren’t in abundance of, so he’s okay with the rapid pace they get there, he really is. They shed clothes as though they’re sprinting towards the finish line, barely give each other a look-over before they’re pressed together again.
They are connected, in all sense of the word. Physically, mentally, Louis knows somewhere deep down that their very souls are connected. It’s no surprise that in such times, times of comfort and need and desperation, that they are so easily on the same page. Their lips stay seemingly glued together, only detaching in search of air, and to be otherwise attached to jaws and necks and generally in use.
They prepare quickly, and it isn’t long before Louis is begging and writhing in Harry’s lap because oh, right there and yes Haz, please, more. He feels the need to anchor himself straight to Harry, doesn’t want any part of the moment to end when he sinks down and seats himself flush in Harry’s lap.
“God, look at you, Lou. So gorgeous,” He breathes, hands running up and down Louis’ sides before resting on his hips, holding him steady. He looks up in deep bliss and wonder at the glow of exertion across his face and fuck he’s in love.
But then Louis is leaning down, crashing their lips together once more as he rolls his hips as he bounces and Harry can’t manage another word.
-
When Danielle and Liam arrive around lunchtime, the two are far more presentable.
Liam immediately rolls his eyes at the sight of Harry answering the door in a pair of old, tattered sweatpants and nothing more, berating him, “It’s after twelve, Harry.”
Harry shrugs, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Payne. Hello Dani, you look exquisite today.”
Danielle laughs, light and genuine, and shoves him lightly in the arm. “Nice to see you, too, but you should save the charm, Styles. You might need a favour one day.”
Growling lightly because god he really needs new friends who don’t make his life difficult, he allows the two to move past him into the house, and makes a mental note to remind Liam to marry the girl one day.
They’re already greeting Louis by the time Harry makes it to the kitchen, (“Really, Louis, boxers? You couldn’t have bothered with a shirt? Or pants?” “Just how are you not used to this yet, Liam?”) and he can’t help but smile at the familiarity as he resumes making pasta. It’s not that things have ever been normal for the four of them, things have never been normal as long as they’ve known each other, but there’s a particular sense of comfort in knowing that they’re never alone - knowing that Louis never has to be alone when he’s gone.
“So how’s work going, babe?” Louis asks from his perch atop the counter. He can feel Liam’s glare on him, can imagine what’s going through his head (“Food is prepared on that!”), but he’s far too comfortable to bother putting anything on over his boxers.
Danielle sinks onto one of the bar stools and shrugs, “Not too bad. I mean, teaching a class of ten preschoolers isn’t exactly ideal, but it’s better than still working at the grocery store.”
“But you’re not dancing?”
She pauses. bites her lip, “Really, what chance is there of being a professional dancer here? I don’t want to get my hopes up about something that won’t happen.”
“I say you try anyway. Make one of those Youtube videos. Hell, you can even recruit those little rats as back-up dancers. That’s how all famous people are discovered now, isn’t it?”
“Louis,” Liam interjects, “They’re children, not rats.”
The conversation continues easily, even after Harry serves up their lunch and steps between Louis’ parted legs in order to share the same bowl, not one thing seems remotely out of place and he can easily ignore the feeling settling in his stomach.
-
Tangled in each other, feeding each other, Louis can feel the way that Harry’s muscles have already begun to expand. His arms and chest and shoulders have broadened and thickened considerably. Even under these circumstances, he finds it attractive.
But he’s already grown at least two inches which isn’t fair at all because the little shit is already taller than him and it was emasculating enough that he had to reach in order to kiss him in the first place, but those few extra inches feel like a mile and god he was tall.
These changes were all a part of what was going to take Harry away from him, he knew that, but he couldn’t hate it. It was just Harry, just his Harry and there was not one stage during the whole process where he felt anything but adoration for the boy, perhaps only sorrow and the desperate need to try to help, to stop him from having to deal with the pain of morphing into a werecreature that may or may not want to devour human flesh.
(Not that Louis knew, but Harry thanked God and pack-leader Paul and Oprah Winfrey and whoever he could that he had an entire pack and hundreds of acres of wood to stop him from having to find out, to help him ignore the constant stream of Louislouislouislouisprettyperfectlovelovematelouismatematemate and let things run their course)
-
The day passes more quickly than Louis is prepared for, and a sense of dread blankets him at the sight of the setting sun. They’ve relocated to the porch over the course of the day in order to take full advantage of the summer sun, though a now-clothed Louis drapes himself over an also-clothed Harry, where he sits against a column.
Liam and Danielle speak softly where they’re cuddled on the swing seat, but Louis is happy to settle for quiet as he fusses over Harry, runs his fingers through his hair and nuzzles gently into the crook of his neck. He peppers kisses to whatever skin he can find, runs his cool hand in nondescript patterns across the muscles of his stomach, does whatever he can to soothe the boy.
It had been an hour since Harry had begun showing signs of discomfort, though Louis noticed every one of them. He was never able to settle still, no matter what Louis did to calm him, and he caught him picking at his skin and knew that it felt as though something was itching and crawling beneath it. When he turned to find Harry gritting the teeth, which now resembled blunt looking fangs, it was like a timer started counting down in his head.
He knew it wouldn’t be too long, and was hardly surprised when Liam addressed them, “Haz, it’s almost time.”
Harry sighs, tries not to frown while Liam can see, “I know, just a bit longer.”
His arms tighten around Louis’ waist minutely, but Louis notices anyway, presses closer and kisses into his jaw.
“Don’t want to go,” Harry growls into his skin, and if Louis’ heart wasn’t already in pieces, well fuck.
“Don’t want you to go. I want you right here with me.”
“I’ll stay, I’ll be a good house pet. We can cuddle and I’ll just sleep, and I won’t hurt anyone, I promise.”
“Harry,” Liam responds before Louis has a chance. His voice is pained, and he can tell that his friend is struggling as much as Harry, who’s trembling with effort of remaining in control beneath him.
Surging forward, Louis kisses him. It’s quick and desperate and why is it so hard?
“You go,” Louis reasons, “You go and chase some squirrels and look after Liam, and do... whatever it is that you do out there, and you know I’ll be right here waiting when you come back.”
Harry nods and nuzzles his neck, wants to stick himself right there, attached to his Louis and never leave again, and it’s so unfair but he’s found the love of his life, so he’ll take what he can get. He picks Louis up off his lap with a newfound ease and places him on the step beside him, hands stroking gently.
“Ready, Li?”
“Yeah, yeah... it’s time.”
Automatically, Harry moves to kiss Danielle’s cheek and say his goodbyes, and Louis stands to do the same with Liam. He wraps his arms around his torso, and can’t help from whispering desperately, “Please, please Liam, take care of him.”
Liam’s arms tighten around him for a moment, his amplified body engulfing Louis’ own. “You know I will. And you’ll make sure Dani’s okay?”
“Of course. I’ll miss you, bud.”
“No house parties, you hear?”
Louis laughs in spite of himself, “You don’t even live here, you twat.”
It only takes a moment of Liam ruffling his hair, and then he’s face to face with Harry again. They contemplate each other for a mere moment before they’re falling forward and clinging to each other, a tangle of limbs and everything they want to say to each other.
“It won’t be long, I promise.”
“I love you-”
“Love you so much-”
“Be safe, please just be safe-”
“I’ll be fine, okay?”
“Just come back to me.”
“Think of you the whole time-”
It doesn’t make sense, just a jumbled mess, but the reassurance is all they need.
And then, like that, they’re kissing. Harry lifts Louis up to his level, and it's all legs lips waist lips hair, arms wrapped so tightly around him that it hurts, but Louis takes it. His hands clutch at Harry’s face like it’s a lifeline and it is.
Their lips move together, and everything else seems simply irrelevant. For a moment, they’re living in a perfect world where Harry doesn’t have to go anywhere and Louis isn’t thinking of all the different ways he could be hurt while he’s gone. For the first time in a week, Louis is calm and at peace.
But then there’s Liam with a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder and a concerned look of his face and no, he’s not ready.
“I love you, I love you so much. Remember that, okay, please?”
“Harry,” Liam warns.
“I know, babe, I know. I love you, too. You just wait, I’ll be right back here before you know it.”
Harry kisses him one last time and lowers Louis to his feet, finally letting go. “It’s not goodbye, you know that.”
Louis nods, and they both look to Liam as he releases his hold of Danielle’s hand and starts to move with the same sense of resignation that fills them from head to toe. He ushers Harry forward, and it’s at that point that the reality hits Louis, the fact that Harry is leaving and he’s walking away and he's not turning around and there’s not one thing he can do about it. By the time it does, he’s too far away to reach and he knows that it would only hurt him to try.
“Fuck,” He whispers, and Harry turns around to catch his gaze one last time before he and Liam are disappearing into the woods before them.
-
Only when he’s sure that they’re far enough away does Harry slump into one of the trees, shuddering and breathing heavily and aching all over.
“It n-never gets any easier,” he pants. “Just... fuck.”
Liam grunts, “What, this, or leaving them?” Harry sees the look of heartbreak on Louis’ face flash in front of him and knows there is literally nothing harder than that.
(Louislouislouismatematemateloveprettymategorgeousmateperfectmatelovelouis)
-
Louis stays outside long after the two disappear, long enough to hear the first mournful howl over the wind before he makes his way inside. Danielle is waiting with a cup of tea and he’s never been happier to sink back into the couch, pulling the sleeves of his (Harry’s) jumper down further over his hands. They sit in silence, but it’s mostly comfortable, only the weight of the situation over their heads to bring them down.
“He loves you so much, you know.”
Louis raises his eyes to meet Danielle’s, brows furrowed.
"Dani?"
"So much it's ridiculous."
He nods, “You know I love him, too.”
“You know what he told me, just before they left?” Louis’ face starts draining of its colour, because oh lord, what did he tell her? There were so many things that he really hoped no one would ever know, but of course Harry would accidentally let something slip. Danielle snorts at the expression on his face, “Oh, you dork, of course he would never say anything bad about you.”
Louis blushes, looks down at his lap with a small smile on his face. “He’s, uh, he’s a bit of a nut.”
“He told me you’re precious, that you’re his mate, and that I’ve got to keep you safe.”
Immediately, his eyes snap up, comically wide and glistening suspiciously.
“His mate?”“Yeah.”
“... Fucking Curly.”
Danielle laughs again, as free and unabashed as ever. “He meant every word, you know, he adores you.”
“Oh my god Dani, please stop gushing about our relationship. You’re in love with an idiot, too, you know how it feels.”
“I guess, but you two... you’re something different,” She bites her lip and Louis has a feeling she’s searching for the right words. “You orbit each other. I mean, I love Liam and he loves me, but I’ve never seen anything like you and Harry.” Danielle sips from her tea, a small smirk apparent as she observes the blush across his face.
“Just because... we’re not...”
“Ridiculously, stupidly in love with one another? Lou, you’re so far past being able to deny that one.”
“No, I know that. I love him more than anything, I just know we’re not the only two people to ever be in love or anything like that.” Louis pauses and shrugs while Danielle simply looks on, waiting for him to continue. “But you know what this is like, you know how hard it is, having to watch them walk away and put themselves in danger and keep your head up high. And I’d be useless without him. I am.”
Danielle reaches out and grasps his hand, and for a moment Louis doesn’t quite know what he’d do without her.
“You know he puts your life so far above his own, right? Lou, he lights up whenever you even look at him and I have a feeling that if you told him you thought that about yourself, he’d fight you to the death to prove you wrong. You know you could tell that boy that you’ve decided to become an Amish prostitute or something equally as stupid and he’d just think the sun shines out of your ass?”
Immediately, Louis feels a flush of something like adoration and okay, so he knows just why his friend makes such a good teacher, and thinks that it’s really kind of a shame that she isn’t already a mother to a thousand adorable children. Her ability to soothe and comfort really was wasted on him and on Harry and their non-existent problems.
Louis’ voice is filled with only affection as he manages to sputter out, “He’s a bit mental.”
“What does that make you, then?” Danielle laughs.
“... Just as mental?”
“Thought so.”
They continue talking long after their tea has been drained and the moon reaches its highest point in the sky. They talk about their own lives, their jobs, their stupid boyfriends; about everything that they can think of. It flows easily, as it always has, and although Louis is stuck with a definite feeling of loss and want and need he’s mostly content. Though they’re both missing someone, they at least have each other.
“I guess I should be getting home,” Danielle says eventually, when they seem to start drifting out of conversation and consciousness. “Work is going to absolutely kill me tomorrow.”
Louis scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous, just stay here. We don’t have a spare room but I’m sure Haz and Liam won’t mind if we share a bed. You can just get up in the morning and go home to change and everything’ll be fine, right?”
“You sure?”
“Of course. It’s late, Dan, I wouldn’t make you drive home now.”
She pauses, contemplating. “I hope to God that your bed is sanitary.”
“... Just because I love you, I’ll change the sheets, babe.”
-
Louis lends Danielle an old shirt and pair of tartan pajama pants, and before they know it, they’re heading off to bed. It’s not ideal, and it’s oddly foreign to share the bed with someone other than Harry, but he’s sincerely happy that he isn’t alone. Somehow, it’s easier, and the night hasn’t passed as slowly as usual (he hasn’t been left alone with his thoughts), and the absence he feels isn’t as prominent as usual. It doesn’t feel like he’s exposing a gaping, bleeding wound. Tonight it’s just a scrape - stinging and ever present, but he knows that it will soon heal without a scar.
He allows one last wistful look out the window (and must be hallucinating, because he swears he sees a pair of gleaming green eyes shift behind the tree line), before he tucks both Danielle and himself in, pulling up the covers as they lay side by side.
It isn’t long before he hears it once again - the wolf’s howl, low and sorrowful. Somehow, somewhere deep inside, he knows that it’s Harry, knows that it’s a call directly to him. A goodnight, I love you, see you soon maybe.
In that moment, he can’t help but reach out a shaking hand to grasp Danielle’s own, holding it tightly in his until he slowly drifts off to sleep, dreaming of a familiar set of green eyes.
(Harryharryharryharryharry)