larry smut

kiss away the difference

🎀 desc: Harry's an ass, always coming home late, standing Louis up.
And Loubear's bout to put an end to it ooooh yeah.

🎀 author: orphan_account on AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account )

🎀: top! louis, bottom! harry    (I USUALLY NEVER READ THAT BUT THIS IS SO GOOD I PROMISE)

____________________

Two o'clock. Two o'clock in the fucking morning and Louis still hasn't heard a damn thing from Harry since he's come home from work. And as angry as he currently is, he's not sure he really wants to, either.

Of course, when Louis wasn't quite so angry, he considered Harry to be one of the greatest things that had happened to him for a while now. As he worked every other day at a mechanic shop downtown to pay for uni and his flat, it wasn't surprising he didn't have much time for a relationship. It was a wonder, really, that he'd met Harry at all, at one of the few parties he'd had time to attend. And (most of the time) he was glad he had.

One could say they were practically made for each other; each balancing the other's quirks out. Louis found Harry's carefree, go with the flow attitude exhilarating,  refreshing, and cheesy as it might sound, he had fun with Harry (something Louis had all but forgotten existed, as it were). It was a strong contrast to his own disposition, he'd become increasingly stressed and uptight as the school year had started, and Harry'd always helped him to slow down and take a break.

However, it was nights like these when Louis almost wished he might have never known Harry's name, or gotten to know him at all. He loved a lot of things about Harry, of course. For example, he didn't mind the fact that, before moving in with him, Harry had gotten by sleeping on one friend's couch then another, jobless. He didn't mind that Harry smoked weed, quite a bit more than he should. He didn't mind the hippie music Harry listened to, or that he gave dandelions and other random flowers to people he thought could use a smile around town. He didn't even mind the old rusted Volkswagen bus that was rainbow, tye die and hemp heaven Harry insisted on keeping and driving.

If he was completely honest, he actually loved every single one of these things about Harry. He loved his calming, loving presence.

But the longer he sat in his semi dark kitchen, watching the clock hand turn excruciatingly slowly, the more he forgot all of Harry's great, wonderful, beautiful little things and the more his worry turned into anger.

What if he's out getting drunk again

What if he's lost

What if he's hurt

What if he's gotten in a damn fight again

Oh lord, what if he's dead

Good, I won't have to fucking put up with his shit

Damn hippie

Screw him, why should I care when he gets home

This isn't even his damn home anyway

It was a wonder at all Louis looked as sane as he did on the outside, because on the inside he was a whirling tempest of anger, anxiety, fear and most of all, dissapointment. And just as he thought he might go out to at least look around Harry's usual nighttime antics hideouts, he heard the door slamming in and someone humming noisily. Harry.