i sleep naked ➸ larry stylinson

thirty three

birthdays.

harry considered birthdays the most important holiday of the year. it was the day that a person was born, the day a soul came into the world and that person would fall in love and get married and they would get a job and create a life of themselves. and it all started on one certain day.

so that's why harry was extremely excited for christmas eve, which also happened to be louis tomlinson's birthday.

harry had started to contemplate the possibilities of presents and parties after he had gotten off the phone with louis. they had talked about louis big news for hours on end. a college had offered him a scholarship for football. it was louis' dream, and harry had never been so happy for him.

at first, he had gotten out his laptop and opened an empty document, ready to write down tons of great ideas for louis. but his mind went blank, and he was tempted to call louis and just ask him what he wanted.

no. then it wouldn't be a surprise.

and so now, here he was, laying on his bed, closing his eyes and munching on some gummy bears, searching through his cluttered mind for something to give louis tomlinson.

louis tomlinson.

harry was still trying to figure out everything about him. he knew that louis had a bad temper, which he was already trying to avoid. he knew that louis liked to eat desert for breakfast and he slept on the left side of the bed. he knew his favorite color was red and he was obsessed with reading and writing, although he didn't tell anybody. he knew that he loved the smell of gasoline and burning fires and pine trees. he knew that he was a great footie player and he was the most easy person to talk to in the world.

and he had a nice bum.

but, none of those things could come even close to what harry wanted for louis. he wanted louis' present to be the present of all presents, so that everyone who saw it would be jealous that they didn't think of it. he wanted nobody else to be able to give louis this present.

and just as he was researching puppies who knew how to play kickarse footie, an idea popped in his head.

scary. it was a scary, stomach churning idea. harry could feel his heart racing just thinking about it.

it didn't help that it was midnight and his imagination could run utterly wild. so he just put the idea on his notes, careful to make sure it was private so nobody could see it, and he shut it with a rushed breath. he didn't realise he was blushing until he touched his cheeks, and felt them burning.

go to bed, he told himself, trying to calm his mind and keep himself from squirming there on his bed.

so he pushed his headphones in his ears, turning it to a song that would distract him from his, interesting, mind.

***

harry felt as if the night before christmas eve was one of the busiest of the whole year. everybody was preparing for the wild parties, buying last minute gifts and trying to find a faster way to wrap them.

but harry wasn't worried about that. his present required mental preparation, along with lots of soap.

"harry, i would go to bed! you're going to be up quite late tomorrow!"

his mum was right. it was eleven o'clock, and here he was, in the shower, scrubbing every crevice of his small, frail body. well, except for his tummy. he hated his tummy. louis' was cute, but his was just... gross.

you're not ready! his mind was screaming.

but his heart...

he took a shaky breath, letting the warm water shower against his bare back and run down behind his thighs and onto the white shower floor.