you are half of me (and I am all for you) - larry stylinson

twelve

"Ah, here it is." He held up the first-aid kit, glad to find bandages and antiseptic inside.

"I feel like I'm in an action film. Like, the part where the fight is over and the romantic interest is tending to the superhero's wounds."

Lips quirking upwards, Louis guided Harry's hands under the sink to wash away the blood. "You'd be a great superhero."

"I'd be horrible," Harry laughed. He was sitting on the countertop in Zayn's bathroom, hair still damp from the rain outside, and he looked so, so gorgeous. "You know I hate conflict more than anything. You'd be a great romantic interest, though. You are one, I mean."

"Pretty shitty one, if you ask me," Louis huffed. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to be self-pitying. I just mean that I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"You treated me wonderfully, Louis. I'm in love with you because you're a great person, you're so kindhearted, so lovely. I'm sorry for not being brave enough to speak up either. It's a two-way street, you know."

Louis choked on his breath and nearly died from the resulting coughing fit.

Harry grinned. "Should I say it again? I'm in love with you."

There was a warmth at that particular thread of words, a pacifying comfort that rippled under his skin. He was still so scared of it, of this blowing up in their faces just like his last relationship which nearly killed him. He was still so scared of it, but Harry was making him realize that he was even more afraid of never having the chance in the first place.

"You should've told me about what happened sooner, Lou. I would've- I think I would've understood, at least a little bit. It doesn't have to be like that. It doesn't have to end."

Dabbing antiseptic to the raw skin of Harry's palms, he stayed quiet. There were a million doubts swirling in his head, all the same insecurities that had defined him as a person ever since he lost what he loved most. Those insecurities would probably never go away, but they could be overpowered, by forces like trust and hope.

"But you- It's mutual, right? I mean-"

"I've liked you ever since we fought over that stupid album and nearly got kicked out of the record store."

"Don't call Bon Iver stupid," Harry pouted. "I fell in love to that album."

That was... That was a really good feeling. It was familiar, in some ways, as love was, but also wholeheartedly new.

Louis focused very intently on wrapping the bandages around Harry's palms. He felt so bad about it. Walking on that trail, treacherous as it was, in the dark and the rain, had been a bad idea. Yet they would always remember it as the place where they finally figured it out.

Once Harry's hands were taken care of, he curled his fingers around Louis'. The touch was soft and comforting, a warm pressure that said he wasn't alone. He didn't have to be alone, not anymore, not if he didn't want to be. Harry didn't have to be alone anymore either. He didn't have to pine over some stupid asshole who blithely ignored every sign of his affection because he was a coward.

Their faces were close together. Harry was sitting on the counter still, so Louis had to crane his neck upward. It would've been kind of funny, if the moment hadn't been so charged. There was an electricity in the air, though, a tension, something he knew they both felt.

"You're so beautiful."

"So are you, Lou."

"Can I kiss you?"

Harry nodded. The moment of permission was all very tender and sweet. They met each other halfway, Harry ducking down, Louis reaching up. Their lips collided in a soft, tentative gesture, and it was all Louis had never allowed himself to imagine. His body was alight with flames, the feeling of happiness scorching through him like a wildfire.

He wound his arms around Harry's neck, unwilling to let go. Harry spread his thighs to make room for him, setting his big hands on his hips. Pulling him closer.

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