Larry Stylinson ao3 one shots.

Pining for You

Written by:Peanutbutterapple

Summary:Harry sells Christmas trees. Louis doesn't mean to buy so many of them.

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"Come on, lads, this is very important."

"Is it?" Zayn says dryly, pulling a beanie on over his ears. It's freezing outside, but of course just a thin leather jacket will suffice for him, Louis thinks to himself as he shrugs on a coat and Niall zips his puffy jacket up to his chin.

"Yes," Louis says. "There is nothing more important about this time of year than getting a Louis tree."

Niall barks a laugh as Zayn rolls his eyes. Fondly, Louis decides.

"Is that what your mother called it when you were a kid, then?" Zayn asks.

"No." Which is exactly why, now that he is an adult, out of uni and on his own in the big, bad world, he can dispel this whole Christmas tree thing and make the season what it's truly meant to be about.

"This is the very first Louis tree. Christmas is overrated," Louis says as they step outside. The sun dips below dusty purple clouds and streetlights are just beginning to flicker on along the streets. Frigid air hits their faces hard, and Louis rubs his bare hands together. He should really invest in some gloves.

"Right," Niall says, the tip of his nose beginning to turn red. The Christmas tree lot is just around the corner, on the edge of the city park. Good thing, too, it'd be far too much of a pain to haul it onto a bus.

"Look, I didn't ask to be born the day before Jesus," Louis says. Honestly, of all the people to compete with for a birthday. If it had been up to Louis, he'd have been born in June, or October, or March so that he could have the entire month all to himself, instead of having to share it with the savior of humanity, yadda yadda.

They round the corner, shadows growing dark and long across the sidewalk as the sun disappears, and Louis sees it. All the pine trees, some big, some small, some fat and skinny, lined up in neat little rows as people mill about, older couples and families with small children hiding in the prickly branches, tired parents asking them to cooperate and pick out a tree.

"Look at all these people," Louis says, "picking out their Louis trees."

Niall snorts as Zayn pulls his beanie down to his eyelids and mutters, "Let's make this fast, it's bloody freezing."

"It takes time, Zayn. Time, patience, and careful consideration," Louis says. Zayn stalks ahead of them. "It's got to be perfect!"

He watches Zayn's retreating back, headed to the worst section of trees, probably.

"Good thing you came to us, then," a deep, unfamiliar voice suddenly says from behind him and Niall. "We've definitely got perfect here."

Louis turns around, and the first thing he sees is green. Green, like, Christmas green, except deeper, different than the trees around them, and they glimmer slightly in the colorful string lights threaded along the edge of the lot. The second thing Louis sees is dimples, deep, lovely dimples in a set of chill-stained cheeks and the first thought to enter Louis' head is yes.

"Yes," he says.

The young man's smile widens, further engraving his dimples, and he's got a blue wool hat on his head over a mane of curly brown hair that falls nearly to his shoulders, and it looks soft and Louis kind of wants to touch it.

"Looking for a Christmas tree, then?" the young man asks, as if he really needs to, because what else would they be doing here? Except that's not what they're here for, really, and his voice is very deep, and a bit slow, and Louis think he would like to listen to him speak for a long time, maybe hear him read Shakespeare. Louis thinks this boy's voice is one that could make him appreciate Shakespeare.