Good Morals [Larry Stylinson]

Ch. Thirty-Two | Lovers Forever

[E: ✔️] Over 5k words

It had been a month since the incident in the park. A month. A month since Louis and Harry saw each other in years. Niall knew what happened that day (of course he did) prying it out of Harry and knowing how hard it was to try to move on and forget everything about his twelfth year of school, especially Mr. Tomlinson, or, Louis.

Back to the present day, Louis and Harry had finally come to terms and were finally getting over the uncomfortableness, the tension-bringing sting of their past, they also moved past and both agreed that they were adults. At first, of course, it was awkward because, hey, 'I'm dating my old high-school teacher' doesn't sound the most normal thing. Neither of them expected for people who knew who the both of them were to be okay with it first thing. Neither of them cared, either.

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It was their first date. Their first official date. Neither of them considered going out for coffee or tea or talking over the phone (for hours at a time) counted. Louis had reserved the both of them a spot at a fancy restaurant, an Italian place, which he couldn't pronounce the name for the life of him. He told Harry yesterday, and now he had just picked Harry up from his flat. Harry was dressed properly handsome, a light bluish-gray button-up, a black blazer and black dress pants. Louis was also dressed up, wearing a forest-like green button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black tie and black chinos. They made small talk for the first few minutes, until Louis noticed they were about ten minutes from the place. He took a deep breath, "Harry," he glanced over at the lad, who smiled at him and hummed in response. "I ever tell you how much I love you," Louis smiled, slowing down as they reach a red light. He looks back over at his partner. "Or beautiful. Sweet, charming, ha-"

"Yeah yeah," Harry cuts him off, rolling his eyes, a smile still across his face, "Only when we see each other, call each other, text each other, go out."

"Still isn't enough in my," Louis starts driving again, sighing, "my very, very humble opinion. Someone with such beauty and grace deserves proper compliments," he lightly chuckles. "Who might that be again? Do I know this person?"

"Oh, shut it, cheeky bastard," Louis laughs as they finally reach the restaurant, Louis finding a spot to park. Harry hummed, "Make me," he grinned, raising his eyebrows at the slightly older man. "Oh, someone's getting brave tonight, I see," Louis winked as he got out of the car. He waited for Harry and they started walking towards the entrance, Louis sliding his hand into the green-eyed man's while he looked at the building. "Babe, please don't tell me this was expensive. You better not have spent a lot making the reservations," Harry glared at Louis playfully, but the both of them knew that he was serious. "Don't worry your pretty little head, love," Louis leaned over and pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek, who blushed and kissed his forehead, giggling.

Once they both sat down at their booth across from each other, chatting about anything and everything and nothing, their hands clasped at one end of the table, smiling and laughing. Their waitress soon arrived, handing them the menus. Harry said thank you, and pulled his hand away from Louis's, opening to look at the drink options. What he was totally oblivious to, however, was how tightly Louis's grip was on his own menu, noticing out of the corner of his eye how the waitress's eyes were raking all over Harry. He grits his teeth, his jaw clenching before slapping his menu down on the table. "Babe," he smiled widely, maybe a bit too forced, "you ready to order," he asked, glancing up at their waitress who pulled out her notepad and her pen. The lady blushed and bit her lip when Harry set his menu down. "Can we get breadsticks, Lou," he beamed, to which Louis nodded, smiling fondly at the lad he somehow got so lucky to have in his life again. That was until the lady spoke up again, "Is that all," she smiled sweetly at the curly-haired man. Louis internally swore out the woman. "No, miss, I'd like some pasta Alfredo, please," he ordered politely, "I'll have some water with that."