Mute Larry Stylinson Harry!Mute

Saturday 11

Saturday 11

The warm heat radiated down onto Louis’ thin shirted chest as he lay peacefully on the grass. His sunglasses were perched on his nose, his skin not needing to be layered in sun cream, thank God. The stuff was the bane of his life; having to slick up his sisters’ skin everyday on holiday was enough to put him off using it ever again, especially when they insisted on squirting it everywhere.

It was surprising, the heat, when the days previous had been laden with on and off showers, clouded skies, and the odd spot of rumbling thunder. But Louis decided to embrace it fully and make use of the spontaneous weather flush, by bringing Harry back to the park.

It reminded him of the first time they went out, well, bar the gig incident. Their ice creams were finished already and their stomachs were lined with the creamy goodness that made Louis’ hands partially sticky. The two couldn’t be bothered with making their way up the hill in such, for Britain, sweltering heat, so they decided to claim the spot by the fountain, under the big oak tree which cast a cooling shadow for them to lie under. That didn’t stop the sun creeping through, though, to clamber onto Louis’ skin, although it didn’t seem to take much of a latch onto Harry who was buried back on the tree trunk.

Louis looked over at the boy: back propped up on the trunk, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, arms folded together. One slice of sun cast through the leaves and shone yellow over a strip of Harry’s face, lighting up one side of his sunglasses, a section of his nose and the corner of his lips. His milky skin wasn’t radiant; it wasn’t blaringly white, but it did have a certain gleaming glow whenthe sun cast itself over it.

His outfit wasn’t necessarily the best for the sunny day, but Louis gave him the benefit of the doubt because he had just sprung the idea upon the boy as they lazed in the air conditioned piano room. Secretly, Louis wished that the heat would become almost too much to bear for the boy and he’d so innocently have to peel off that Ramones shirt and reveal that long, very long, enticing, grab-worthy, bruise-worthy, running-hands-over-constantly-worthy, lick-wor- shit, okay, let’s pretend that never happened.

He looked so at peace, although that makes him sound like he’s dead, but he did look so calm. You couldn’t tell whether his eyes were shut or wide open due to those Ray Bans which suited him so well. He almost looked like a rock star, lazing in the sun after a heavy gig. The wild hair added to the look, along with the outfit - which now, Louis was rather pleased Harry was wearing. That vision was one Louis liked quite a lot, and suddenly, images of Harry in eyeliner popped into his mind. He liked those images, probably too much. But really, the way the black outlined the bright green of his eyes was something which couldn’t be resisted.

His cheeks flushed instantly, and his thoughts flushed away with them, as he became aware of how Harry had lifted his sunglasses up and was staring at him warily. Plastering on an overly cheery grin, Louis waved enthusiastically to try and deter Harry’s thoughts from the fact Louis had been out rightly checking him out. He scooted up over to Harry’s position and settled himself similarly to Harry.

"So," Louis said, turning his face to Harry whilst he pulled off his sunglasses and shoved them into Harry’s satchel.

Harry did the same with his sunglasses and nodded with a brief smile, as if saying the same thing in response.

Just then, Louis spotted the little cart full of cold drinks, and immediately became aware of how parched he felt. “I’m going to get something to drink, you want anything?”

Harry shook his head, rustling around in his satchel and pulling out a half-finished bottle of water. Louis nodded, bidding Harry a quick ‘be right back’ as he scuttled over to the cart.