Undercover (Larry Stylinson)

10. sick to my stomach

Harry's heart froze.

Louis liked him? Louis liked HIM? He always had an inkling that he liked him as a little bit more than a friend. That maybe there were some romantic feelings brewing beneath the surface. But Louis was so flirty and touchy with everyone that it was hard to tell.

This just confirmed it, and Harry had no idea how to react.

"I... like you too, Lou," he said, slurring his words a little. It was just hitting him how drunk they were.

"Mm," Louis said. He sat up, folding his feet beneath him. "No you don't."

"Louis," Harry said, shaking his head. "Don't really get why you keep saying I don't like you because I do. A lot."

"Not true," he said, waving his arms dramatically. "No one ever likes me. I'm too much. I'm toooo much."

With that, Louis began to slide onto his back, lying down on the edge of the booth. Harry caught him by the leg before he fell, and hoisted him up, returning him to seated position.

"Not too much," Harry smiled. "Perfect. You're the perfect amount."

"Just saying that," Louis huffed.

Harry stood up, annoyed by how little confidence Louis had in himself. "No, Lou. I'm saying it because in my few weeks here, you're the only person who was nice enough to show me kindness. You brought me that wine ... and brought me to the diner.... you stayed with me when I was hurting. I was at home, drinking myself sick every night. Couldn't sleep. I felt so lost. But you made me feel something. Made me feel... wanted."

"Aww, Blake, er, Harry," Louis said. He stood up next to Harry, swaying a bit, and Harry caught him by the waist. They embraced, Louis nuzzling his head on Harry's chest.

"Beating fast," Louis said, looking up at Harry sleepily.

"Cause I'm nervous," Harry admitted. "You give the best hugs."

"I give good kisses too," Louis said coyly.

He stood on his tiptoes, pressing his forehead against Harry's. Harry locked eyes with him, staring at Louis' parted lips. He never wanted something more.

Just as Harry was about to lean in though, he heard a sharp gagging sound. Louis turned away, vomiting all over the booth and himself.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Harry replied. "You didn't get any on me. Sit down, love. I'll call the Uber. Let's get you home."

Louis sat on the opposite side of the booth, removing his shirt and tossing it on the floor. Harry raised an eyebrow, knowing damn well that wasn't okay, but was too drunk to care.

"Okay, It's coming honey, I'll get you a water," Harry replied, going into full on parent mode.

He left and returned with a glass of water, which Louis sipped on slowly. The vomiting had certainly woken him up a bit and now he sat, red faced, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"I'm so embarrassed," Louis groaned. "I'm so sorry."

"It's totally fine. We drank way too much," Harry said, offering him a hand to get out of the booth.

When they got outside, Harry noticed Louis covering his torso with crossed arms.

"Are you cold?" he asked, worried. It was rather warm outside, but then again he was shirtless. Maybe he was a bit chilly.

"N-no," Louis said, his fringe flying as he shook his head. "Just look fat."

"What?" Harry asked, incredulously. "Never. You're so fit, Lou. You look great."