larry smut

the sweet escape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2154357

~✰~

There were a million other ways that Louis pictured spending his Friday night. He imagined getting drunk off one too many tequila shots, getting high with his best mate Zayn, or even fucking that fit blonde guy he had met at the bar last weekend. However, spending his precious Friday night with the eighteen-year-old neighbor boy curled up on his couch is not what he had planned for his evening. No, not at all.

"So, Harry" Louis starts slowly "Are you ready to tell me what happened? I mean.." his voice trails off. "Why exactly are you here?" Louis tries to sound concerned. It was a valid question.

When Harry had arrived at Louis' doorstep an hour earlier he had been crying uncontrollably and simply asked "Can I please come in?" between hard, breathy sobs. He gave zero explanation for his actions, therefore Louis had no clue as to what was happening-- he barely knew Harry at all-- yet he let the young boy into his apartment in hopes of calming him down.

Harry looks at his lap twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"Uh, it's just, my parents they're fighting- no, not fighting, I mean having a.. having a, um.. disagreement" his eyes are still red-rimmed and puffy.

"Please, please, don't tell them I said that. They would be very disappointed. I am not supposed to talk about that stuff. Not even with friends."

He pauses while looking shyly up across the couch at Louis. He starts inching closer. "You're my friend right, Louis?"

Louis has seen Harry and his family around often since they live so close. It is a small town so word always spreads around fairly quickly. Everybody knows everything about everyone it seems, which is not something Louis particularly enjoys about living here. He knows that Harry's parents are very strict and, in Louis' eyes, plain overbearing. They are the type of people who force their family to act wholesome, cookie-cutter, and perfect. At least to the outside world. They are always front row for Sunday morning service and constantly dropping excessive hints as to how much money they spend on luxurious items. That is great and all, but Louis can see right through the phony act they display. He is aware of the dirty looks they shoot him. He knows why they do.

Louis notices that Harry is staring at him intently waiting on an answer. His lips are curved into a small, endearing smile and his cheeks are flushed the perfect shade of bubblegum pink. Louis struggles to find the right words "Um, sure. I guess we're friends, Harry."

Louis is becoming increasingly more panicked by the minute. Harry has slipped his hand from the couch onto Louis' left thigh, letting it rest there lightly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Apparently the younger boy has no idea about personal space. Louis can't help but to stare at Harry's cherry red lips and cartoon-like bright green eyes. The older boy can tell that Harry trusts him with his life just by the look he is giving him. Does Harry always trust strangers like this? That can't be safe. God, he's just so little.

Louis snaps out of it when he realizes he must be coming off as such a pervert by staring. He doesn't even have any idea how old Harry is. All Louis knows is that he goes to the local private school, you know the kind where they wear uniforms and go to chapel. Oh fuck, I bet harry looks good in his school-boy uniform.

Focus, Louis, focus he reminds himself. Around seventeen would be his guess but he looks so, so, young. This can't be right or in any way okay. Louis has to think of a way to get this innocent, bambi-eyed teen out of his apartment before he goes insane. Or they throw him in jail. Either way.

"Harry, do your parents know where you are?" He continues as he slowly removes Harry's hand from his thigh, despite his pouting bottom lip.

"They're probably worried by now. I wouldn't want for you to get in trouble." He tries to sound stern but his voice comes out wavered. Although Louis would never admit it, he is more worried about getting himself in trouble at this point.