The December wind rushed into his house through the door but it's the warmest he has been in a while.
"Hey you," Harry said, a bouquet of sunflowers held between them. He had crinkles by the his eyes because of his smile. A smile that was like a thousand suns, "Happy Birthday."
"But you said you wouldn't be here until after New Year's Eve?"
Harry brushed a kiss over the back of his hand, "What, you thought I wouldn't be here for your birthday? My husband? My sun? My Lou? My sunflower? My boobear—"
One interview and he wouldn't ever live this down.
"Happy Birthday, Boobear," One kiss to his forehead, "Happy Birthday, Boobear," He slid his hands down to Louis' waist while he kissed his eyelids, his cheeks and the tip of his nose, "Happy birthday my Boobear. Happy birthday, Boobear."
"H, you know I don't mind Boobear when you're the one who says it?"
It elicited a soft laugh out of Harry, "Sure, Lou."
Louis buried his head into his shoulder to hide his smile, "Thank you."
"Why, because I forgave you even when you didn't choose me to play you in your biopic? Or when you said boobear is a horrible nickname?"
Louis shook his head, "Thank you for being here and there is no need to be sassy on my birthday, Mr. Styles."
"It's Styles-Tomlinson for you, sunshine."