larry smut

love me (like xo)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354876

part 100 wooo!

~✰~

The train is empty when Louis climbs on, so he picks a seat just passed the middle and unpacks the takeaway box with his dinner and unbuttons his coat. He takes a bite of the salad he bought and checks his cellphone. He has three new emails (all from his least favorite client), three snapchats from Zayn, Niall, and Stan respectively, a missed call from his sister (where his nephew will definitely be talking in the background) and a text from Harry. He checks them all, responds to his emails, sends a snap of his kale salad to all three guys, texts his sister, and then checks Harry's message, smiling to himself as they come up.

January 23, 2012 6:42 PM
On your way yet? I miss you :(

He can already imagine Harry still in his pajamas, because he didn't have any classes today. There are probably open textbooks all over their bed and the computer that Louis bought him has probably half of the paper he'd mentioned last night written on it. He can see practically see it, like he's already in their bedroom and Harry is sat on the bed in one of his huge sweaters and boxers. He eats another bite of the salad and writes back:

January 23, 2012 6:43 PM
Train just left. See you in an hour. xx

He smirks as he presses send, thinks back to meeting Harry when he was only eighteen with a cheeky smile and a grip on Louis' heart that made his breath catch in his throat every time Harry looked in his direction. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but he had been so enthralled by the soft curls and smooth hips that lured in every man at the club, that leaving him alone on the dance floor, where any man could get him, could use him and throw him away, would have just been cruel. He could still feel the smooth base of some R&B song in the soles of his feet, behind his ribcage as he had weaved through the other men, made his way to the pale boy and purposely bumped into him as he danced. He can clearly remember the way that Harry had looked at him, eyes dark and heavy lidded.

"Oops," He had said, voice like a slow timbre. So he didn't believe in love at first, but if it did exist, he had fallen in love the minute he'd seen Harry on the dance floor.

They'd been inseparable soon after that night and it didn't take much time for Louis to incorporate Harry into every part of his life. He let him know everything – about his fears of disappointing his family, about how he was scared that he would never be more successful that he was now, about how much he was afraid of letting Harry down, of not being everything that he wanted and needed. And Harry had done the same, had told him all about his father leaving and having to help his mom out and wanting to make she was always proud of him. And maybe Louis had loved Harry at first sight. Maybe.

*

It's just gone eight when he gets to their house, and he opens the door, steps over the shoes that are always left in the doorway and calls out for Harry. It's dark as he sheds his coat and Vans, heads up the stairs. Harry doesn't respond so he stops to peak into the bathroom to make sure he hasn't gotten in the bath and almost fallen asleep (because that's happened one too many times for his comfort) but the younger boy isn't in there so he continues on to the bedroom. The door is cracked halfway, letting bright light into the hall. He peaks around the door, hand on the edge to jerk it open but he stops quickly, swallows hard.

Harry is lying out on the bed, stretched out as long as his limbs will allow. His computer has been halfway shut and his earphones stick out from the side, still slipped into his ears. One hand is slipped above his head, clinched around the edge of the pillow that's placed under his head and the other is rubbing at the soft skin of his lower tummy, pale and smooth. Louis' mouth waters and his fingers curl in, ache to reach out, to run themselves over the skin as well.