Larry Stylinson Oneshots

Looking through the Ceiling

Author:  andsparkles

Summary :  Harry and Louis go on a picnic

___

"Louis," Harry said once he'd stopped panting. Sprawled across the foot of the bed, still mostly wearing his trousers, he basked in the warm glow of a job well done. His face was quite sticky and so was his hair, but he felt settled in himself, grounded in a way he hadn't since they’d flown back from the video shoot in Malibu, and that was worth all the sticky bits and sore muscles.

From the floor, Louis lifted a limp hand and waved in Harry's direction, which would have to be enough of an answer because he didn't seem quite capable of intelligent speech. The day had begun quietly enough with a couple of meetings and a signing, but they'd had the rest of the afternoon off to do as they pleased--hours of unscheduled time, which was a rare enough occasion that Harry had immediately proposed they go back to theirs and spend the rest of the day lazing about in bed. It was lovely, of course, to be able to spend time alone, just the two of them, but two hours later Louis was nearly dead asleep on the floor and Harry was suddenly restless. He felt constricted, suffocated by the bedroom walls.

"Lou," Harry repeated, and giggled when Louis flipped him two fingers in response.

"Wozzit," Louis finally mumbled.

"We should go out," said Harry. "Have a picnic. Do something exciting."

"How are you talking in full sentences?" Louis groaned. He rolled over to his belly and buried his face in his arms.

Harry, for his part, knew Louis took a good half hour to gather his wits after a good orgasm and so didn't take it personally.

"It's such a gorgeous day," he said. "There's still time to explore."

"Harry, love, I've already got plans for a good long nap," Louis said, though it was a bit muffled and hard to understand. His hair stuck up in tufts from Harry's fingers and he had a love bite low on his back, just above the swell of one arse cheek. He looked like all the things Harry had ever dreamed of having rolled into one person, with a crinkly-eyed smile and a fantastic bum to boot. And from the heavy sprawl of his limbs, Harry could tell Louis was well on his way to falling asleep.

There would be other days off, Harry told himself.

To Louis, he said, "Maybe next time, then."

"Next time," Louis echoed.

-

Truthfully, Harry forgot about next time. They weren't scheduled to have another day off for ages and they were busy recording the album anyway, doing press, taking pictures with fans, and generally doing what they were told. Most days, Harry felt that they were hurtling toward some invisible finish line, a goal he couldn't touch or see but he knew it was there all the same.

He forgot about the next time until one Sunday morning in August, when Louis shook him awake early and said, "Get your lazy arse out of bed, Haz. Come on, get up."

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, Harry groaned and tried to push Louis's face away.

"It's not even eight," he said into his pillow. "Gimme an hour and I'll suck your cock."

Louis laughed and said, "I appreciate the thought, but that isn't quite what I had in mind."

As he puzzled through those words, still half asleep, Harry turned his face just enough that he could see Louis out of the corner of his eye.

"What are you planning?" he asked. He blinked to clear his vision and finally noticed that Louis was wearing dark glasses and a vest. He looked straight out of an American advert, as if he'd just stepped off the beach in California and found himself in foggy old London.