larry- one shots

just a feeling (pt 2 of hycba)

The first time that Harry thinks about marriage in relation to Louis, he's eighteen years old, standing in the middle of a crowded frat house, six drinks down and another in his hand.

It's not the first time that he's laid eyes on Louis. It's not even the second time, or the third time, but Harry doesn't believe in denying what his brain is trying to tell him, and his brain has been telling him that Louis might be the prettiest person in the world ever since that first fateful meeting, when Harry hadn't been able to stop looking and Louis had 'accidentally' spilled his tea all over Harry's lap in retaliation.

Harry had been enamored from the very first second, and it had never gotten any better. Still, thinking he'd look so pretty with my ring on his finger isn't exactly a normal thought for an eighteen year old boy to have, especially not one who's fresh into university with the entire world at his disposal.

It's a thought that he doesn't really ever lose.

"So," Louis begins from his perch on top of Harry's hips, warm and heavy and naked. So naked. Because they just finished having sex. Harry has come drying into his skin, that's how recently they just finished having sex.

Normally Louis is sleepy and clingy after they have sex. Harry really doesn't understand what's going on here.

"So," Harry echoes, dragging the side of his thumbnail down the inside of Louis' thigh just for the way it makes him shiver.

"I'm graduating in a couple of months," Louis says. He doesn't stop Harry from wrapping his entire hand around his thigh, skin silky smooth against his fingers.

"I know," Harry agrees, attention torn between trying to figure out what Louis is attempting to say and concentrating on how Louis' body feels underneath him, on top of him.

It's hard to focus on anything that isn't the way Louis' skin is still flushed and sweaty, telltale signs that Harry just had him coming apart. "Got it marked in my date planner and everything," Harry continues, partially because it's true and partially because of the way it'll make Louis slap him and try to hide his smile.

Except Louis doesn't slap him or try to hide his smile. There's no smile to try to hide.

"Things are gonna be different," Louis says, looking everywhere but Harry's face. "I'm still waiting on grad schools to reply to me, and I don't know where I'm going to be next year."

"Okay?" Harry asks, furrowing his eyebrows. This isn't exactly new information - Louis would have told him if he had heard anything.

"I don't know where I'm going to be next year," Louis repeats, and there's the tiniest hint of a waver in his voice.

Oh.

Harry sits up and rearranges them so he's leaning back against the wall with Louis caught up tight in his arms, tucked together so neatly that he won't even be able to complain. "That's okay."

Louis struggles in Harry's grip, trying to wiggle his way free half-heartedly. He gives up after a few seconds, slumping back against Harry's chest in a way that's entirely too defeatist for Harry to be comfortable with. "You still have another two years of school to get through."

"You're on-point with the math today," Harry says, squeezing him tighter, so Louis doesn't have enough room to punch him in the ribs.

"I'm just saying, we might want to think this through before we get in too deep," Louis says, holding himself very, very still.

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And you thought that the best time to bring this idea up would be right after I spent an hour making you come three times?"