One More Time [A Larry Stylinson FanFic]

Prelude

Louis Tomlinson was in a shitty mood. He was sitting in the back of a black Escalade, staring at his phone his was holding, almost as if he was wondering what the fuck it was. Without warning, he chucked it across the back seat, letting it bounce off one of the doors. God, he couldn't understand why he had to have this conversation again and again and again.

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, thankful they were stuck in downtown traffic so he could collect his thoughts. He stopped himself before he ran his hand through his hair: Gwen would kill him. He was on his way to an interview and his hair and wardrobe had been done before he was put into the car. Gwen had spent an hour trying to flat iron his hair into his classic throwback style. The fans would go crazy, his manager had insisted. He was probably right; Tom was a good lad and Louis trusted him.

That was just the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Louis blew air out of his cheeks and stared straight ahead without seeing anything. God, how was this still the story of his life, eleven years later? How was Harry Styles still causing him so much heartbreak day in and day out? They were together; they broke up; they got back together; they fought again. But this latest break-up felt more like it was the real thing. In fact...Louis might have told him just that six months ago.

The SUV started and stopped in traffic. Louis felt nothing, saw nothing. He was thinking about how far over the line Harry had finally stepped. It had started so innocently; Harry had texted him that he had exciting news, to break out the good china! Louis smiled, knowing that mean to have the crystal tumblers out for their evening drink; they would order in like always. Turns out Harry wasn't being dramatic this time. His green eyes had been electric when he walked in the door, stopping to give their big brute of a dog Clifford some love before walking in and sweeping Louis into his arms for a kiss that made Louis' toes tingle.

Harry had news all right: he had made a deal with his manager. His (ex) friend-slash shitty manager Jeff had been making rather questionable decisions and changing Harry's image without bothering to listen to his client. Hiring your friends was decidedly not a brilliant move. It had been a constant struggle and drain on Harry, and Louis was rather pleased he hadn't just punched Jeff in the face. Yet. Which made it quite remarkable when Harry accepted the vodka tonic and told Louis, one hand holding on to Louis's shirt at his waist, that Jeff had agreed to a deal to exit before the release of his third album.

"Are you fuckin kidding me right now?!" Louis' eyes lit up and he reached up and kissed Harry quick and hard. "What did it take, finally? Jesus, I didn't think we'd ever get rid of that little shit," Louis said, looking up at Harry.

Harry hadn't even had more than a sip of his drink; he was too excited to tell Louis about the deal. Jeff wanted a giant favor; he felt like he needed a massive coup, something that made him look invincible in the industry, not like he got fired by the hottest rock star in the upcoming generation. Louis tried not to show the bad feeling that entered his feeling at those words. He didn't trust Azoff. Harry was too excited to notice Louis had gone still. He continued his torrent of words: Jeff's friend was the head of the network that hosted some singing competition. It was a popular show and a hard invite to be part of the cast. But Harry didn't need the exposure or the cache that would come with joining. Even though there were one or two stars every year that had no business "needing" to be on the show, it was more of bragging rights. But no one would expect Harry to be on it, and so it would look like Jeff had "managed" to get the hottest star on the hottest show, and then exit stage right because of a health scare or some such.

"And then once he breaks his contract, Lou, I'll be free. We'll be free. We can come out, stop the stunts, and just live our lives together, babe," Harry said, finally takin a gulp of his drink. Harry's green eyes searched Louis' face and dulled a tint or two. "What is it, Lou? Didn't you...don't you want to start living the future we've always worked so hard for?"

"Harry, I..." Lou hadn't realized he'd backed up a step until he hit the kitchen counter. He looked at the confusion and hurt on his love's face. And he did love Harry with everything he had; his love had hung the moon and fuck anyone who stood in their way. But, god... "Luv, the timing, though. My album is about to drop, and I'm supposed to go on tour next year, sales open the end of this year, which is when you'd be...when we'd be... Fuck." Louis ran a hand over his face, trying to ignore the panicking birds that were exploding inside of his chest. Why was it always like this? Why did the universe always have to step in the way and ruin things for them? Weren't the angels supposed to be in the job of helping lovers who were deeply, profoundly in love?

The fight had been epic. Harry didn't understand why Louis wasn't jumping at a chance to do things their way, make an announcement that couldn't be stoppered back in the bottle when Harry had to hire a new manager. The joke was that Lou's own manager was more than okay with Lou coming out if he wanted to, but he didn't pull any punches explaining to Lou what would happen to his popularity – at least for a while. He and Harry had talked about that. Harry was so sure the fans would come back. Lou never said it out loud, but sometimes he wondered if that wasn't because Harry could afford to take a beating and still be okay. Louis' fame wasn't quite like that. God, he had just found his lane, he explained to Harry, he had just figured out his sound and his style and thrown a successful festival – his dream was in striking distance! So close! If they couldn't just wait another year, til after the tour...

Yeah, it had been ugly, Louis thought. They did what they always did: dug their heels in, yelled, said hateful things. Harry was hurt that Louis didn't want to jump off a cliff with him. Louis was mad because Harry didn't understand how hard it was to fight for your solo career rather than luck into being "the sexy one."

Yeah, that might have been the bit that broke them, finally. His stupid mouth. But Louis hadn't backed down even when he'd cooled off. Nothing had changed. Harry still wanted to come out, even if it was just a casual not-gonna-hide kind of announcement. But Lou knew that if he lost his momentum now, his career as a frontman was over. He needed to prove them wrong. He needed to.

So, they did what they did. Harry tried to call and apologize. Louis dodged his calls. Sometimes, sometimes like this morning, Harry got creative. He always was the type, Louis thought, huffing out air in a bitter sort of chuckle, still lost in thought. Sometimes, say, Harry would call from a friend's phone, begging for another chance, telling him he'd back out of the show, he'd back out of everything if he'd just let him back into his life.

Well now. As grand and romantic a gesture as that sounds, Louis couldn't be that person. He couldn't tear his love's dreams right out of his hands, just because his career was at a critical juncture. He didn't want to cause any resentment. Harry's voice had gone dead at the end of the call. "All right. All right, then, Lou. I report tomorrow. For the show. Best of luck with yours." Those were the words Lou heard come out of Harry's mouth, words that traveled 5800 miles across the world through his phone. Then the line dropped. Louis felt like it was really, honestly, truly over this time.

Any man would have thrown his phone across the car, honestly.

Jesus fuck, why couldn't the Universe cut them a break, just once?

Louis looked up when the door of the car opened. His body man Tucker was standing there. "Gimme a minute, Tuck, eh?" Lou asked, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice. The door close again with a soft whumping noise. Lou bent over and picked up his phone.

Just one small break.