A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @itsvain for being one of my earliest readers. Thank you!

Special shout out to Niall's glasses.

Disclaimer: this chapter has some sexual content.

LOUIS / PRESENT

The lads would all be going into Manhattan to pick up their tuxes, all except me because I wasn't in the wedding. I decided to tag along with Liam and Niall anyway. We dropped the twins off at daycare and headed downtown.

I was still jetlagged. The previous night with Harry in the river felt like a movie I never wanted to end. I wanted to stop time. I used to think Harry and I were invincible, that we had all the time in the world. When did our time run out? How had it had been three whole years since I'd last seen him? He looked so different and so devastatingly the same. People around me kept referring to him as "the groom" and "future husband" but all I saw was the sixteen-year-old boy who used to sleep on my chest.

My work emails were piling up. I hadn't checked my phone since I landed in New York and now I was afraid to. It didn't matter that I booked time off-clients simply took that to mean that I'd get back to them in five minutes as opposed to five seconds. Usually they'd be right. This was the first vacation I'd taken where I actually wasn't tempted to work, where I wanted to be completely unreachable to anyone who wasn't Harry.

Zayn was sitting in the dressing area texting when we arrived. He wasn't expecting me. "Louis, come here!"

I ran dramatically into his arms. "Save me, Zayn! Liam's yelling at me!"

Liam's pants were soaking wet.

I lifted my sunglasses. "Do sort yourself out, mate. There's a washroom in the back."

"What happened?" Zayn asked.

"It's Bedelia's juice. Someone thought it would be funny to teach her to pour it on my crotch."

"You gotta get 'em while they're young." I winked knowingly.

Niall yawned and took a sip of Zayn's coffee. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"Rough night," said Zayn.

"I'm sharing a bed with Louis. Let's just say he has very vivid dreams."

Eyebrow arched, Zayn turned to me, "What about?"

"Oh, you know I can never remember my dreams... Where's Harry?"

But I already knew. I could hear him rustling around in the dressing room. Even though I'd seen him mere hours ago I was buzzing at the thought of being around him again.

The consultant brought out the suits for the other lads. They were slate grey and the boys would each wear white ties except for Harry. His suit and tie would be black. It was awkward being there. I wasn't a groomsman and I was only invited to the wedding as a courtesy. I'd never felt so close and so far away from Harry at the same time. I knew nothing of this new life he'd created without me and I used to know him better than anyone in the world.

Harry stepped out of the dressing room shyly. "Well?" He was clearly shocked to see me sitting there, but he was too polite to say anything. I was really pushing my luck inviting myself along to the fitting. I knew I had to be on me best behavior and stay quiet, which wouldn't be hard since Harry was so lovely to just sit and watch.

He looked gorgeous, of course, because he always looked gorgeous but the suit was... terrible.

The other lads nodded at Harry with approval and I looked from side to side like they were all mad.

"Is this cotton?" I said, reaching out to touch the cuff.

"Yes, it's cotton."

"Harry. This. Is. A. Cotton. Suit... Does a cotton suit even qualify as a suit?"

The panicked consultant, an older man with a freckled bald head, looked from me to Harry--more toward me because I was louder.

"Darby thought cotton would be better than wool because of the heat," said Harry. "We're going to be outside all day. It's July."

I fucking knew it! Only Darby would pick something this ugly.

Niall walked up to the consultant and together they found the hanger with his name on it. "Staying cool sounds good to me." He headed into the fitting room and closed the heavy velvet curtain behind him.

Liam, who was still trying to dry himself with a used Kleenex was just grateful to put on pants that weren't wet. "Could I also trouble you for a new pair of boxer shorts?"

Zayn took his hanger and shot me a sympathetic look as I sat there empty-handed.

Harry anxiously examined himself in the mirror, smoothing the lapels of his jacket and tightening his tie.

"You can't wear this!" I cried, "You look like a waiter!"

"I wanted something simple," he shot back. "This is Darby's day. I'm always the center of attention. It's her turn to be in the spotlight."

"It's your day too! You should be the center of attention!" Harry should be the center of the whole goddamn universe!

The consultant backed away slowly.

The lads stepped out in their suits, which were even uglier than Harry's but I could only deal with one crisis at a time.

"Not to be dramatic, but it will literally kill me to see you dressed like that at your own wedding, Harry."

Niall laughed, "You? Dramatic?"

"I think it's a sensible choice," said Liam spinning in front of the mirror. "It's simple and timeless."

Harry nodded, unsmiling. "I look like a groom. It's appropriate."

"Appropriate!" I clutched my chest. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. How could that jezebel let him wear something that was just "appropriate" to his own wedding? Did she know him at all?

Thankfully Zayn was on my side. He tugged at his collar. "It looks great, Hazza. It's just not really you, ya know?"

Harry tucked his hair behind his ears. "Maybe this is the new me. Now that I'm going to be someone's husband I should probably be a little less showy."

I lost it. "Harry Edward Styles you are fucking royalty! You were born to be seen, not hidden away under an ugly boring suit!"

"Louis!" Liam scolded.

I stood up and grabbed Harry roughly by the hand. "Come on." I pushed past the boys and dragged him through the store's tall plexiglass doors, the salesman hollering after us.

We ran into oncoming traffic, Harry tripping over his feet until we got to the other side of the street.

"Where the hell are we going? I'm in the middle of my final fitting here. It's really important, Lou!"

We dodged a group of school children and a couple buskers.

"You'll see."

I pulled Harry along behind me for two more blocks.

We stopped outside the black and gold storefront of Yves Saint Laurent.

"Louis, I can't have a new suit tailored now. There's no time."

"We can still do something about that shirt and tie."

I held the door open for him and he entered the store tentatively. Harry used to be like a kid in a candy store at YSL and now he seemed insecure around the bold patterns and lavish accessories.

He wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes, letting his fingertips graze the luxury items, not yet daring to want them.

"This is stupid. The shirt I have is perfectly fine. Let's go back."

It didn't take long before his eyes were drawn to a silk blouse with shiny pearl buttons. "Ooooooh."

I circled around him, pleased with his choice, but even more pleased at the fact that it made him so happy.

A sales girl with a tight bun rushed over to help. "Do you need a size?"

"The large should fit," he said, holding the blouse up to his chest.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "This is a woman's blouse."

"Did we ask for your opinion?" I snapped. "Start a dressing room."

Harry hid a smile. He moved over to the glass casings to find a tie. He picked out a ribbon tie, which was unexpected, but I trusted his taste implicitly.

The dressing rooms at YSL were brightly lit with solid marble walls and red and gold fixtures. The sales girl handed me a flute of champagne as I waited for Harry to step out. When he finally did, I could tell immediately from his posture that he loved it. His green eyes lit up excitedly as his hand trailed over the pearl buttons on his chest. With his nimble fingers, he tied the ribbon around the collar and it fell delicately over the silk blouse beside his curls.

"Do you like it?" He asked, a tiny bit of uncertainty in voice. "It's not too much?"

"It's stunning." So stunning I wanted to rip it right off him.

While Harry admired the blouse in the mirror, I went up to the sales desk. The shirt and tie came to about ten thousand dollars but it didn't matter, I would have drained my bank account to make Harry happy.

When he saw that I was paying, Harry rushed over. "You don't have to do that."

"Nonsense. It's my pleasure."

"No." He took the card out of my hand. I snatched it back.

"It's the most important day of your life, Harry. I'm not a groomsman but I'd like to contribute in some small way."

"This isn't a small gift, Louis."

As I punched in my pin I felt Harry's eyes on me. He was looking at me so... fondly. I didn't think he would ever look at me that way again.

"You don't know how much your support means to me," he said, surprising me with a quick peck on the cheek.

My cheek was on fire.

I was on fire.

The lads came tumbling in through the door with garment bags over their shoulders.

Harry put a hand on his hip and did a proud little pose for them. Christ he was cute.

"What do you think?"

Zayn dragged the back of his hand over the silk. "Much better."

Liam fiddled with the ribbon. "Aw, you look like a lamb!"

"Or a present," Niall added. "Something for Darby to unwrap."

I clenched my fists. The thought of Darby's grubby hands all over this pretty YSL package made me want to throw things. If anyone should be unwrapping Harry it should be me!

Niall sidled over to me and gave me a nudge. I ignored him, annoyed, and he nudged me again. I looked at him quizzically for a second before I remembered the surprise we had planned.

It was time.

As Harry headed back into the dressing room, I gave the lads the signal. Niall threw a pillowcase over his head. Liam and Zayn dragged him by the arms out the door.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

He tried to get away but Zayn slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. "It's time for your bachelor party weekend!"

"I've already had a bachelor party."

Zayn shook his head with pity. "What happened to you, mate? Watching fireworks and eating candy apples with your fiancée is not a fucking bachelor party."

Even Liam was in agreement. "I've seen my toddlers party harder."

"Can I at least call Darby?"

We all looked at each other and in unison said, "No."

While the lads loaded their suits in the trunk of Liam's car, I helped Harry get into the backseat.

"Watch your step," I said with my hands on his hips.

"I got it."

"You sure?" I said, still holding him tight.

"Yes!"

The other lads piled in and we were off to the races. Liam was driving and I was in the passenger's seat, Harry was in the back sandwiched between Zayn and Niall.

Liam's slow, city driving made me bounce my leg impatiently-we were barely moving.

"Where are we going? What are we doing?" said Harry.

"Sex, drugs and... pop with a subtle punk rock influence," I replied.

"Louis, was this your idea?"

"Who, me? I'm shocked you would accuse me of devising such a diabolical plan... Yes, obviously," I admitted.

The hotel was uptown and the suite was expansive, with panoramic windows and art deco furnishings. We had stayed in this hotel before and being all together again in this place felt like déjà vu. I hit the bar the second I got through the door and poured myself a tumbler of rum.

Once he got settled, Zayn freed Harry. He shook his curls and rubbed his wrists.

"Do I get to call my fiancée now?"

Zayn pretended to consider question. "No." He smacked Harry's bum. "You have your whole life to call her. Enjoy your last night of freedom."

Then he turned on the surround sound and got on the phone.

"I really hope you won't be hiring strippers," Harry said.

Zayn flipped his crest of jet black hair. "I remembered your feelings on that so we're getting coke instead." He shrugged.

"Besides we didn't know if you'd prefer a guy or a girl," I added, swirling the amber liquid in my glass.

"Did one of you at least remember to bring my clothes from the dressing room?" Harry muttered. "I can't wear my wedding suit to this party. It'll get wrecked."

We all looked at each other. Niall thought Liam had brought them and Liam thought Zayn had. In short, we all forgot.

I jumped off the barstool. "You can borrow some of mine. I packed an overnight bag. It's in the bedroom at the end of the corridor. Here, let me show you." I placed a hand on the small of his back.

Liam pulled me aside, out of earshot. "What are you doing?"

"He needs clothes. I have clothes," I said innocently.

"I think he can find them himself, don't you?"

"I think he needs my help." I patted Liam's chest and brushed past him.

"Louis," Liam cautioned. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

In the bedroom Harry had already hung up his jacket. I riffled through my suitcase and pulled out the clothes I brought for the next day. The pants would be a bit small on him but the long-sleeved T would fit. I handed them to him and struck up a conversation.

"So, are we friends yet?" I said, plopping down in the armchair across the room.

Harry placed the tie neatly on the dresser and began to carefully unbutton his new blouse. He tried unsuccessfully to hide behind the closet door as he changed. Lucky for me I could see his reflection in the mirror.

"We've been over this. It's going to take time."

He was getting married in two days. Time was the one thing I didn't have.

"It's been ten hours since we talked about it. That seems like plenty of time. And I've been very supportive, remember, you said so yourself."

"You're exhausting."

"In a good way?"

"Is there a good way to be exhausting?"

I licked my lips.

"Stop it," he said sternly, though his dimples were showing.

The shirt was a little snug and shorter on him than it was on me, but it didn't look bad. It only showed off how fit he was. The pants were another matter. They should have fit him. I was shorter than Harry but I hadn't had this pair hemmed. I preferred to wear them rolled up in summertime. Harry got them over his hips but he was having trouble doing them up.

"Have you gained weight, Harold?"

"No! Maybe you lost weight."

"Yeah, maybe," I quickly agreed, seeing as it was a touchy subject. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about. He was heavier, but in all the right places. I always knew he would fill out as he got older, but to see it in front of me was a whole other matter, like witnessing the transformation of a cherub into a Greek god.

Harry was still struggling with the zipper so he lay on the bed with his feet firmly planted on the ground and sucked in. He laughed at his own ineptitude. "They fit," he panted. "If I could just..." He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

"Here, let me."

Harry was out of breath by that point and welcomed the help, even if it was from me, his non-friend.

Standing over him, I said, "I'll do up the button, you do the zipper, yeah?" I tugged roughly at the fabric. It was a denim-Lycra blend so it had some give to it. "Oi, hold still!" My knuckles grazed his tiny round belly as I stretched the fabric over his waist. Our eyes met and we couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. I seemed to have it for a second when suddenly I lost my grip on the button and both ends slipped out of my hands. Harry's fingers were on the zipper but they weren't moving.

"You were supposed to do up the zipper at the same time," I said, about to try again when I noticed that Harry had gotten hard. Very hard. His erection struggled against the fabric making it impossible for me to do up his pants or do much of anything quite frankly. I was barely breathing.

His rosy cheeks turned crimson. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking up at the ceiling. He must have been talking to a higher power because he certainly didn't owe me an apology. Not for this. Never for this.

I tried to do the gentlemanly thing and button up his pants anyway, but the more I tried, the harder he became. He winced in pain and I ached for him.

"I could... take care of it for you." I'm a gentleman not a saint.

"What?"

I pressed my hands down on either side of him, creating two deep valleys in the mattress.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," I said calmly. It meant everything. Harry was the meaning of life itself.

"Louis," he murmured, his pink lips lingering sinfully on the "ou."

He didn't say no. He didn't say yes, but he certainly didn't say no. I searched his face for an answer but he wouldn't look at me.

I dropped to my knees.

Gently, I lifted his hands off the zipper and placed them at his sides. He left them there obediently. I didn't know where to put my hands so I rested them noncommittally on his thighs.

"Tell me to stop."

Harry swallowed and continued to stare at the ceiling as though in a trance.

"Talk to me, please. What are you thinking?"

"I'm a bad person."

"No, you're good! You're so good, Harry," I insisted feverishly, kissing his hand. "I want to make you feel good too. Let me."

Harry bit his lip. Then the angel actually lifted his hips for me! It took me a couple seconds to recover from this gesture. My heart was beating so hard I swayed on my knees.

I pulled his pants down to his calves, his erection now straining only against the thin fabric of his boxers. My fingers danced along his inner thighs until they reached his c0ck where my hand suddenly felt heavy as lead.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and a series of small whines escaped the back of his throat. He was so pretty on his back with his curls splayed out and his mouth open. I'd hardly touched him and already he looked debauched. I was bursting with affection for him. I flashed back to the first time we had sex. It was in a hotel much like this one. No, it was this one. Fuck. I'd had sixteen-year-old virgin Harry in this very hotel, maybe even this very room and now here were again--me and my boy, my sweet boy, who was every bit as beautiful and precious as I remembered...

Without warning, I buried my face in his lap, breathing the most intimate parts of him. "Harry, Harry, oh Harry..." I cried, and before I could stop myself, "I love you."

Harry's entire body jolted as though he'd been plunged into ice water. "No you don't."

Darkness spread across his face. I flinched. It was the same anguished look he gave me the night we broke up.

He stood up, and I fell backward onto my elbows. He rushed for the door, frantically trying to walk and pull up his pants at the same time.

I reached out to him. "Harry, wait!"

"Don't touch me!"

He slammed the door behind him and I slouched against the wall with my head in my hands. Alone.

A/N: Next week's "past chapter" is the break up and it's told from both Harry and Louis' POV.

But the bachelor party isn't over yet. The week after next I'll show what happens the rest of that night.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!