Larry Stylinson - Turning From Praise (AU)

The train pulled into the station precisely one minute earlier than it ought to have, and Louis bounded excitedly onto the platform, dragging his suitcase behind him. Wearing a grey and white striped shirt, braces and brown three-quarter length trousers, he was proudly showing off his tan. His hair was ruffled and his eyes bright, and there was an air of excitement in his stride as he bounced onto the platform and almost ran straight into his dad, who was excitedly waiting for him with almost the same amount of enthusiasm as he had.

“Dad!” cried Louis, throwing out his arms and hurling them around his father’s neck, coming rather close to picking the older man up and spinning him around like he would with one of his sisters. Smelling like coffee and old books, his dad had always been a soothing person to hug, and today was no exception. He squeezed Louis hard.

“Louis, son! Good grief, look at the colour of you! What have you been doing all day to get a tan like that? Let me look at you!” Louis’ dad held him at arm’s length, his face split into a grin as he examined his son, back off his holidays at long last.

“Playing football, mostly,” Louis grinned, “and singing. It was great. They taught us how to tie knots and pitch a tent, and Ian fell into the stream on the second day while we were fishing and ended up with seaweed draped all over him. It was brilliant!”

Sighing wistfully, his dad thumped Louis on the back. “Ah, what I wouldn’t give to have been there! Those were the days! Did you toast marshmallows?” he asked eagerly.

Radiating smugness, Louis told him, “Of course.”

“Oh, you! Don’t tell me anymore; you’ll make me sick with jealousy! Come here, pass me your case. Let’s go home. Your mother has been going absolutely frantic, waiting for you to come home. I told her not to make a fuss, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find a ‘Welcome Home’ banner waiting for you when we get back.” Picking up Louis’ bulging suitcase, the older man tutted fondly. “I swear this is twice as heavy as when you left.”

Shrugging, Louis said playfully, “Are you sure? Maybe it just feels like it. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“Oi! Cheeky.” Giving him a pat on the shoulder, Mark started dragging his son’s case across the platform with a grin on his face. “Let’s get you home, before I start getting phone calls demanding to know why you’re not back yet. The twins want you to play with their new ball, and your mother is just dying to feed you up. I reckon she thinks they’ve been starving you out there.”

“Oh, they have. Dried bread and water every day. I’m practically wasting away!” Louis pounded his newly toned stomach with a grin. “Would you listen to that? Completely hollow.”

“We’d better get you home, then. Otherwise there’ll be nothing left of you by the time we get there.” His hand on Louis’ back, the older man guided Louis kindly towards the car park with his whole face lit up. It was good to have his son back again.

~*~

He got out of the car with a grin on his tanned face, and walked straight into his mother’s arms.

Her crucifix necklace was cold on his neck as it brushed against his skin, and her arms were warm around him as she hugged him tightly. It had been just over a month since he’d seen her last, and he’d missed her horribly. Still, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t enjoyed Bible Camp. It had been really fun, actually; he’d made a lot of friends. But he was a family sort of guy, and he’d missed them all so much that it almost hurt some nights; he was glad to be home again.

The girls were milling around him, grabbing his legs and tugging on his trousers and squealing in excitement, and he would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t flattered by the attention. Daisy and Phoebe were shrieking at him in delight, Fizzy seemed close to tears, and Lottie was hugging him from behind while his mother squeezed him from the front. They were a hugging mess, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh. He’d missed all of this so much.