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

fourteen

"Thank you, Salt Lake City! Come talk to us after, we'll be by the bar."

With the crowd's laughter at Harry's finger guns towards the bar, Liam started up the drumbeat and they played their last song.

Despite the fact that his skinny jeans were clinging to him with sweat, Louis loved playing at outdoor venues, and this one was no exception. It was almost sundown, and the sky cast the world in a pink and orange glow.

From where Louis was situated at his keyboard, jamming along, he had a perfect, unobstructed view of Harry singing and dancing like crazy, fluttering all over the stage in the golden light.

At the height of the song, Harry skidded over to him, and they danced together, each move sillier and more absurd than the last. The crowd laughed and hollered.

He was beautiful and ridiculous, and Louis was so in love with him.

As soon as the show was over and they ran off stage, Louis attacked him in a bruising kiss full of enthusiasm and passion. Harry manhandled him backwards, pinning him up against a box of equipment and kissing him senseless.

It morphed into something a little too heated for a public setting, but they were partially covered by the curtains backstage so it wasn't that big of a deal. Besides, it was the most privacy they'd had all tour. Living in a van with their two other bandmates didn't really give a lot of opportunity for what they really wanted to do.

"Can't believe I had to go without touching you like this all this time," Harry murmured into his mouth, parting his lips again to kiss him hard and messy. He had one hand on Louis' jaw, soft and demanding all at once, the other one feeling up his ass. "Ever since we first met. Little punk hippie in the record store."

"Pretentious hipster wannabe," Louis challenged, fingers twisting in Harry's Britney Spears t-shirt. "Wearing a fucking wide-brimmed fedora like you were in a Halsey music video or some shit. Trying to steal my vinyl and distract me by flirting."

Harry was smug as he slipped his fingers into Louis' back pocket and rolled their hips together. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah, five years later. Loved you all this time, though. Think I fell in love the first time we wrote songs together," Louis admitted, remembering the time he went over to Harry's place and they tried songwriting together for the first time. They spent all day in Harry's sunroom with the windows open, Louis sitting at the gorgeous piano Harry had but couldn't play, Harry sitting on the floor with his black Gibson 1991 Dove acoustic resting on his lap.

"All those love songs. Was writing about you."

Louis buried his face in Harry's neck, breathing him in. Harry held him there, against the sound equipment, and they were pressed so close together, Louis could feel Harry's heart beating against his own.

Just yesterday, at Yellowstone, they had set up a blanket on the edge of the water, overlooking the beautiful view, away from everyone else. They took their shirts off to get some sun and lay next to each other, talking through everything and making sure they were on the same page. It was just as honest and intimate as any other one-on-one conversation they had ever had, and that was what eased the ever-present worry in Louis' heart. They were already there. They had acted like lovers for the past five years, even if Louis never admitted it to himself. They didn't need to change anything.

He still felt horrible for being purposefully obtuse, for ignoring every way Harry said I am in love with you through his actions. It was apparent, it was obvious, it had always been there. Louis had just been afraid of losing him and ruining everything, but he was trying to be brave now. It would be worth it.

They couldn't guarantee the future. They couldn't promise everything, because shit happened. Life happened. The future was uncertain. That was what was so beautiful about it.

"You're such a rockstar, you know that? It's fucking hot."

"So are you," Harry insisted, palming him through his jeans. "We're both in the same rock band."

Not his jeans—they were Harry's jeans, because he had run out and they were in need of a laundromat sometime soon. They were Harry's favorite pair, too, worn and well-loved with holes in the knees. There had been a huge ordeal about it before their set today, when Louis got dressed and Harry stared at him, speechless, for ten minutes straight before finally pulling him into a vibrant kiss.

"Yeah, but you're the one who plays electric. I'm on the keyboard. Much more alternative."

"My artsy, talented alternative boyfriend."

Louis rubbed his back, pressing himself even closer and rocking them side to side in a tight, clinging hug. "My handsome rockstar boyfriend. Love you so much."

"Love you too. You're ridiculous, though. Remember when we were in Texas, at the waterfall? And you were, like, brilliantly naked and teasing me."

"Oh my god," he blushed, recalling how he had stripped without hesitation, since he had never been uncomfortable with nakedness even around his friends. Poor Harry, though. "I was trying to be funny!"

"You're lucky I have self-control," Harry whispered, causing Louis to shiver.

"How about every time you touched my ass trying to get me on Patty's roof, huh?"

"Can't blame me. Your ass is out of this world."

"Alright, fine." He would accept that.

"Also, when you gave me a back massage."

"The way you moaned..." Louis muttered. "You were doing that on purpose."

"Maybe," Harry grinned. "Had to get you to like me somehow."

"I was already in love with you, idiot."

"Yeah, okay."

Louis kissed him again just to shut him up.

&&&