Prelude To Forever ->> Larry Stylinson. L.S.

10.

Five nights later, Louis was standing outside of Harry’s apartment. The drive up to Milwaukee had been quick and painless. Louis found himself, on more than one occasion during the drive, thinking about how easy it would be to get used to it, as long as Harry was on the other side. Though, if he was completely honest, driving to the other side of the country would be worth it, as long as Harry was waiting for him.

Nerves bundled up as he reached out to knock on Harry’s door. Once they had connected via Direct Messages on Twitter, Louis spent pretty much every possible moment taking to Harry. They almost instantly graduated from DM’s to texts, and almost as quickly from texts to calls. It was two days later that calls became FaceTime while Harry was brushing his teeth and Louis was making tea.

Mouth full of toothpaste, hair up in a banana clip, and dressed in a baggy hole-filled t-shirt, Louis still had to stifle a gasp at Harry’s beauty. They took each other room to room, going about their morning tasks until Harry had to leave for work with a promise of later from each of them. And it was later, when sleep was threatening to take them both that Louis apologized for losing Harry, for not trying harder to get to him still on the train platform. Harry gently shushed him, reminding him that none of it mattered anymore because they still had each other now. They discussed plans for the weekend, Harry telling Louis to dress up for their date and Louis making some quip about dressing in his Sunday Best for Jesus.

On the other side of the door, Louis heard a cat meow as if to alert Harry there was a visitor, as if the knock wasn’t enough. He saw the knob turn and breathlessly waited.

“Hiya, Sunshine,” Harry said, opening the door.

Louis felt like passing out. If he thought Harry was beautiful with tiny shorts and pastel tie-dye and a rainbow headscarf, he was fucking ethereal now.

Standing there in a head to toe black on black ensemble was Harry, his own personal Jesus looking entirely too much like sin. His hair was down in soft curls, barely touching the shoulders of a black button up, mostly unbuttoned, but held closed by a black blazer, silk scarf draped around his neck. The outfit was matched with black skinny jeans and a pair of stunning glittery gold boots.

“Jesus…” Louis whispered.

“You know you can just call me Harry,” he smiled before wrapping Louis up into a hug that said a thousand words.

After what felt like an eternity, Louis took a step back and took Harry in once more.

“You...you’re beautiful,” Louis said, now slightly self-conscious of his more casual-but-still-nice outfit.

“You polish up pretty nice yourself. Not that I would expect anything less from the sun. Shall we?” Harry held out his hand and Louis.

Louis wanted to tell Harry how much he missed him. He wanted to explain, again, just how sorry he was he didn’t hold on tighter after Pride. He wanted to get down on his knees and suck Harry off as a prelude to forever.

He wanted everything with Harry.

Instead, without second thought, without worry, without any trepidation, slotted his fingers between Harry’s.

The vibrations of his bones settled.

Together, they headed out on the promise of possibility.

THE END.

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NOTES A/N:

Thank you so much for reading. This fic was an honest joy to write and I hope that comes across to you all!