Hold me close {{Larry one-shots and drabbles}}[ON HOLD]

I'll spin you around,won't let you fall down

Title from He is We- All About Us

They’re standing awkwardly together, gaze focussed on the ground. They don’t know each other, and surrounded by the other couples they feel even more uncomfortable.

“You need to know what your partner is thinking,” the instructor says, as she moves around the room correcting postures, the way the hands are placed. She reaches the two of them, her face immediately softening into a smile.

“No need for such a death grip, Louis,” she laughs, loosening the almost chokehold he has around Harry’s shoulder.

Harry looks visibly relieved when his shoulder is freed and Louis feels even worse about the situation.

The music plays softly and Louis’s hand tightens marginally again and Harry looks down at him, the height difference between them so marked with the way they are standing- Harry’s hand on Louis’s waist, Louis’s hand on Harry’s shoulder, their hands interlinked.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to use my hand if you hold me any tighter,” Harry says, his lips lifting up into a smile, dimples peeking through.

Louis blinks up at him because fuck, the guy’s positively gorgeous when he’s smiling (even more than he already is. Louis will not admit that he checked the guy out) and immediately pulls his hand off completely. Harry chuckles again and a very large hand is latching onto Louis’s and guiding it back to its original position.

(Louis tries to not explode from blushing.)

They begin to move- a clash of feet and of bodies in the beginning but then they fall into rhythm. Louis smiles, like a proper smile since he’s been paired up with Harry as they begin to move in synch. Louis tries to not think about it feels like they have been doing it forever.

The music ends much too soon, and Louis takes a few moments to realize that –he is so caught up in being so close to Harry, that boy happens to have the most beautiful eyes Louis has ever seen and it’s warm in Harry’s arms.

“That’s all for today, class. We’ll work on improving our rhythm and timing tomorrow. Goodnight!” the instructor’s voice ringing across the room causes Louis jump back from Harry in a-less-than-graceful way. Harry begins to say something but Louis is quickly walking past him, making a beeline to his bag placed by the corner. He grabs the worn out canvas satchel and chances a glance behind, Harry is talking to the instructor, laughing with his head thrown back. An uncomfortable feeling settles in Louis’s stomach and he walks out.

His flat’s a few blocks away and Louis tries to ignore the ache in his muscles, the soft strains of music from his iPod calming down his over agitated nerves a little. He knows Harry, well, not  know know. They’re in the same class and today is the one is the only day Louis has seen Harry dancing with some semblance of actual dancing. He isn’t being nasty, but Harry’s the one who’s always behind the others and then he smiles that stupidly pretty smile of his and it doesn’t matter.

Louis likes the class just a little more because of the very smile and its owner. He had been mortified when they had been paired together, Louis feeling like an uncoordinated lump all of a sudden. He still doesn’t know what to do about that dance. He quite doesn’t know what to make of the millions of butterflies that had erupted in his stomach; he doesn’t know what to make of the way it felt perfectly all right to look up at Harry, feeling like they were the only two people there at that time.

Louis quite frankly, doesn’t know what to make of Harry and his green eyes and smile and the whole curly-haired, long-limbed everything of him.

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Harry asks him to wait after class the next day and Louis is half terrified and half giddy with happiness.

“Can I walk you home?” Harry asks like it’s the most natural thing, like he walks back people home all the time (Louis tries to not think about the other people he might have walked back home) and Louis smiles in answer.

The walk back is silent yet comfortable and Louis tries to not smile like a loon when his hands accidently brush with Harry’s occasionally. Harry, on the other hand openly stares at Louis couple of times (well, Louis may have been watching him from the corner of his eye).

“Goodnight Louis,” Harry says softly when they reach Louis’s apartment and bathed in the light of that ever-flickering light in the hallway, Harry thinks Louis is so, so beautiful (he doesn’t say that, though).

Thanks, Harry and goodnight,” Louis can’t stop himself from leaning forward and kissing Harry on the cheek.

It’s gone so silent that they can hear each other’s heartbeats and Louis is feeling like the ground should swallow him up now.

He feels lips on his cheek-gentle and almost feather-light – and Louis looks up to Harry, watching as slow, soft smile grace his face.

“Will you dance with me, Lou?” the name rolls off Harry’s tongue effortlessly and Louis doesn’t think twice (he actually doesn’t think at all) before he’s saying yes.

So, it starts with a dance.