Larry Stylinson Fanfictions

Heaven and Hell

Angel!Harry and Demon!Louis who will eventually become Angel!Louis.

I've said too much.

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Louis is a demon.

He's been one for quite some time; a hundred years, give or take. And he knows it's stupid, but he's head over heels for an angel named Harry.

But the thing is, Harry's in love with him too.

They'd met in a Starbucks, which is completely cliché, but the way they met was completely not cliché.

Louis had been making his way into the coffee shop exactly at the moment Harry had been making his way out of it. Louis hadn't exactly been paying attention, so they bumped shoulders, making Harry spill the coffee he had in his hand.

"Oops!" Harry had said, adding a fake, "Ow," right after.

Louis had looked up at Harry and knew immediately he was looking at an angel. Harry had gasped and Louis knew that he knew that Louis was a demon. (A/N: sorry, I know that was confusing.)

"Hi, angel," Louis had said, smirking up at the gaping boy in front of him. "Do you want me to get you another one?"

The boy had shaken his head and left. Louis abandoned his idea of getting coffee and had followed the angel to an apartment building. He silently followed the angel up two flights of stairs to the second floor and watched discreetly as the angel went to a flat door marked 2-11.

The angel had turned to look at him with a raised brow. Louis had flushed. He hadn't been as discreet as he had thought.

"Any particular reason you've been following me, demon?" the angel had asked, his voice deep. Louis had immediately melted.

"Just wanted to know where you lived so I could avoid you," Louis had answered after a beat.

The angel had unlocked the flat door and gestured inside. "Well, since you've taken the trouble, might as well come in."

Louis had hesitantly went inside the flat and looked around. It was a cosy flat, a fire flickering merrily in the fireplace. The angel had locked the flat door behind them and kicked off his shoes, gesturing for Louis to do the same.

Louis had, and the angel had hung up both of their jackets and went into the kitchen. Louis had sat on the couch, watching the fire.

When the angel had come out of the kitchen with two cups of tea in his hands, Louis had taken one gratefully and sipped at it.

"I hope you like Yorkshire," the angel had said. "It's the only kind I had."

"Angel, I come from Doncaster," Louis had said sassily. "I live for Yorkshire tea."

The angel had given a startled laugh, and Louis had felt his heart flutter. No, no, no, he chastised himself. He's an angel, you can't fall in love with an angel.

"Well, I'm Harry," the angel had said. Harry. Huh. Fit him nicely.

"Louis," he had said.

The angel-Harry had smiled a small smile at him, and Louis gave one back. Suddenly, they were talking about anything and everything until Louis had realized that it was getting dark out and that he should be getting back to his flat.

They'd said their goodbyes, but Louis hadn't wanted to leave yet. So he just stood there awkwardly until Harry had sighed in exasperation and leaned down and given him a kiss on the cheek.

And Louis had finally left feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

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That day had led to many other days, and on one particular Thursday in December Louis had been over at Harry's house (as usual) and Harry had been making tea for them (as usual). Louis had been staring into the fire, thinking, when Harry had stepped out of the kitchen in nothing but a pair of sweats hung low on his hips (which Louis was used to, even when it was freezing outside-Harry hated wearing clothes, and angels and demons don't feel cold) and something inside of him had snapped.