Tongue Tied (Larry One Shot)

Harry is never one to speak much. His best mate, Zayn, can't remember the last time Harry had spoken more than fifteen words to him. It doesn't bother him to be truthful, because he wasn't a man of many words as well, unless he was drunk of course. Today, Harry had learned he'd passed his GCE's with flying colors.

"We should do something, Harry." Zayn said, not really wanting to stay in tonight. Harry just shook his head and pointed at his book. Zayn groaned, knowing it was going to take a lot of persuading.

"Please mate, It won't be a club, just a fancy restaurant?" Harry pondered about it for a minute, then deciding it was better then a small crowded area filled with sweaty and horny people.

"Ok fine" Harry sighed.

  Zayn makes reservations for the two of them at six o'clock sharp, checking and rechecking, just to make sure the reservation wouldn't get lost. The boys set to do their hair, not really conversing, but enjoying each other's presence. Harry's wild mane of curls have been gelled back and Zayn's hair was just the way it was, in a neat quiff. They both put on their suit and ties and head out.

  The car ride is silent, with soft music playing in the music. Harry may not speak much, but his music taste surely says a lot about him. Right now the song "Partition" by Beyonce is playing.

"Really Haz, Beyonce?"  Zayn teases his best friend. Harry just laughs and slowly sings along. Twenty minutes later, they arrive at restaurant "La Nuit de ReveBrise" Harry isn't going to try to pronounce it, of course. The two stop at the front desk, awaiting the host or hostess. 

A girl in a black vest with a white dress shirt underneath it, black slacks, and blonde hair in a ponytail shows up.

"Reservation for Malik, please." Zayn says, giving the girl a grin. 

"Yes, this way, sir," she directs them to a table that's in the corner, away from everyone else. The hostess sets down the menus and says, "Your waiter will be here shortly." With that she walks away. No less than five minutes later, a boy shows up at their table. He has chesnut hair, cerulean eyes, tanned skin, and a smile that took Harry's breath away. If Harry was a person who spoke a lot, Louis would have made him speechless.

"Hi, I'm Louis, so what can I get ya?" He asks, shooting a wink at Harry, which goes unnoticed by Zayn.

"We'll both have the lasagna and some white wine, please." Zayn speaks for the both of them, causing Louis to stare at Harry.

"Can you talk, pretty boy?" Louis asks Harry in a teasing tone. Harry opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth and tries again, looking like a fish out of water. Louis giggles and says "Cat got your tongue, I suppose."

"Stop making fun, and go get our food." Zayn snaps at the young waiter. Louis just shrugs and walks away.

"Harry, you have to speak up for yourself", Zayn tells the younger lad. Harry nods and looks down at the table. He knows Zayn doesn't like it when people make fun of his quietness. Ten minutes go by, and the food arrives. It looks delicious to the boys who are sitting at the table. Louis sets it down and pours them the wine.

"Thank you." Harry says, his voice barely audible to Louis.

"What was that, pretty boy?" Louis asks, using the same nickname from their last encounter. Harry clears his throat and talks again,

"Thank you." His voice loud and clear for Louis to hear. Louis grins and Zayn looks mildly impressed. Harry deems this as a huge accomplishment and is very happy with the way he spoke. Louis giggles and walks away, happy that he got the handsome lad to speak.