Larry sick fics

Louis waiting during Harry's surgery

The waiting is always the hardest part.

That's what Louis' always told when he's at the hospital for someone he cares about, anyway. This is different, he knows that, this isn't exactly life or death, at least not if the nurses he's talked to can be believed. Still, there's always the risk of complications and it's not like Harry is in for a basic physical. He's lying in an operating room somewhere on another floor, dead to the world while the doctors have him cut open on a table.

Dead to the world. Louis winces at his own choice of phrase. That's the last thing he needs to be thinking when he can't stop fidgeting, standing up to pace, picking up and putting down months old magazines that don't hold his interest. He's already earned a glare from the woman sitting at the opposite end of the room, and he'd almost said something to defend his restlessness until he'd remembered that she's here for someone, too.

The waiting is the hardest part.

Louis checks his watch when he sees the doctor approaching. It's only been an hour. It'd felt like so much longer.

Harry is fine, he's told, they'd had to remove his appendix, waiting much longer might have resulted in it bursting. Louis can see him now, the anesthesia still has him out but he should be waking up soon. Good news, all of it, so Louis isn't sure why he's still feeling slick with cold sweat.

There's just something about seeing Harry so fragile. It'll be a long time before he can get the image of his boyfriend curled up on the floor, gasping for air through his pain, unable to verbalize anything about why he'd just collapsed so suddenly. If Louis had done anything right, it's only because he'd been on autopilot, but he'd known things were bad when Harry hadn't refused to be taken to the hospital.

It'll take even longer to get rid of the image of Harry lying in bed, pale and hooked up to an IV with heavy bags under his eyes and a thin sheet draped loosely over his waist. Underneath that gown, Louis thinks, there's a part of Harry's body that's been sliced open, and that makes his stomach drop. There's going to be a scar. Harry isn't going to be happy.

Another hour passes before Harry stirs. Louis has texted Anne, Gemma, Lottie and the boys so far but nobody else. His finger had hovered over Zayn's name in his Contacts list but he hadn't been able to find the guts to call one him. He'll catch hell from him for that later but he lets himself be selfish for now. He knows Harry won't blame him for that.

He inches forward to the edge of his seat when Harry starts to shift beneath his sheets, murmuring words of encouragement as Harry's eyes blearily blink open until he's adjusted to his surroundings.

Glancing down at the length of his body, Harry groans. "Oh, god."

Louis rests his hand on Harry's thigh. "You know," he says, trying to keep his tone light, "there are easier ways of getting out of going to Sunday mass with me than letting your appendix burst right before we leave. Hi."

"It didn't burst," Harry corrects, already falling into counterargument mode, "we caught it before it did. Hi."

"You literally just woke up, how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. You have a terrible poker face."

"Yeah, well, you doubled over in the bedroom and scared the crap out of me, can you see that on my face?"

Harry, at least, has the decency to look mildly guilty. "About that."

"How long have you been ignoring the pain? Few days? Weeks?"

"Please!" Harry turns his head away, waving his hand pitifully as he muffles his words against his pillow. "Leave me alone! Doctor, nurse, anyone, save me from the lecture."

Louis rolls his eyes at the theatrics, even though Harry can't see it, and leans his elbows against the edge of the bed so he can lean in to press a kiss against his boyfriend's shoulder. "I'll at least wait until we can get you out of here before I start. Can't promise the same amount for your mum, though. Pretty sure she's going to kick your ass once we tell her."

"Don't you dare," Harry says, whipping his head back around to glare at Louis. There's a wild, challenging look in his eyes, a desperation that draws a laugh out of Louis, and it feels good. It's strange to think it, but it does feel good to laugh, especially after hours of worrying.

Louis laughs again but this time, it's void of any real amusement, and he scrubs a hand over his face. "God." His voice is rough, gravelly, it surprises even him and makes Harry's expression soften.

"Hey," Harry says, "hey, I'm right here. I'm okay. See? Still in one piece." He pauses, narrowing his eyes. "Well, I'm missing part of the piece now but that's beside the point."

"They must have you hopped up on the good stuff, you're making even more pretty horrible jokes."

"I just hate seeing that look on your face."

"What look?"

"You know," Harry says, "that look. Like if you turn away from me for even a second, I might disappear."

They sit in silence for a moment, watching each other, studying well-learned features and each of them searching for much needed comfort from the other. They always find it, always. Neither of them have ever been left wanting for that. It'd been a little terrifying for Harry to realize that at first, to recognize that he'd handed his heart over so freely to a man who wears his own heart on his sleeve; but in moments like this, Harry can't imagine returning to the alternative. He can't imagine a life without Louis.

"When do you get to take me home?" Harry asks, breaking the silence.

Louis offers a tight smile, taking Harry's hand and rubbing small, reassuring circles over his skin. He eyes the hospital ID bracelet on Harry's wrist and the IV needle stuck in Harry's arm, swallowing hard. There were no complications, the doctor had told him, Harry is going to be perfectly fine. He has to keep reminding himself of that. "They said a day or two, depending on how you heal up."

"But—"

"You're not fine," Louis interrupts, chuckling softly at the way Harry pouts. "You just had surgery, sweetheart, you need rest and they need to make sure the incision doesn't get infected or anything like that."

"So what happens when visiting hours are over? Because believe it or not, I didn't think to grab my books, my latpor nor my diary before we left for the hospital." Harry's expression stays neutral but Louis can hear the slight waver in his voice, the nerves he must have at the thought of being left alone.

"I pulled some strings while you were in surgery," Louis tells him, brushing a strand of fallen hair from Harry's forehead. "I know plenty of the nurses from here, they're going to let me stay with you."

Harry still looks unsure. "You're going to do that?" He lifts his chin. "I'm not sharing my bed."

Louis laughs outright at that, bringing Harry's knuckles to his lips. "I'll find a way to survive. Besides, you might end up pissing off the entire staff if I'm not here to supervise."

"Okay, that's it, get out." Even as he says it, Harry tightens his grip on Louis' hand.

"Not a chance, Haz." It's not just a reassurance. It's a promise. "You're stuck with me."

Hi sorry for lack of updates but i've been having more ideas and i'm almost finished with 2 of them so stay tuned! I also would love to hear your opinions! x

Requests are always open!