Play Pretend, Find a Friend? (Larry Stylinson)

16

XVI.

The amount of times he had entered this room did nothing to change the fact that it felt different this time. It was a long hike up the three flights of stairs, passing Harry's brothers rooms, and walking down the final hallway with purpose.

It was the same because he had done this before, many times over the past few weeks. He'd been hanging out with Harry a lot, watching movies on his laptop while huddled together in bed, or listening to his favorite records while sprawled out on the floor. Sometimes Louis would come over just to do homework at Harry's desk while Harry took a nap after practice or did homework himself. Sometimes Harry would be writing an essay or studying for one of his many psychology exams, and Louis would pursue his bookshelf and select something to read while he waited for Harry to finish. Sometimes they would curate a new "baby-making" playlist and jump on the bed for an hour just for the off chance that Landon would notice and get pissed that Louis was seemingly getting some from his wonderful, lovely, committed boyfriend.

It was different because Louis had never entered this room before with the intentions of actual getting some.

They held hands the whole way up, instigated by Harry who interlaced their fingers without hesitation as soon as they were out of the car. They didn't speak, but the nervous energy between them was palpable, full of excitement and electricity. Louis was so fucking cold from the weather and being outside for the majority of the day, and he couldn't stop shivering, contributing to the full body vibration he was currently experiencing. Meanwhile, Harry was characteristically calm and collected.

They entered the room and Louis took a few steps towards the center while Harry closed the door behind them and turned the lock in place.

Harry kissed his cheek as he walked past him. "Come sit on the bed?"

He obliged, sitting on the edge and folding his hands in his lap as he watched Harry move around the room. He turned off the overhead light and turned on the fairy lights around his bed, lit two candles on the nightstand (vanilla and pine), and picked a record from his collection. Louis smiled as the warm music swooned into the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of distortion. He opened the windows halfway, allowing the cold air from outside to blow in along with the sounds of the wind and the nighttime.

"Nice," Louis complimented, when Harry finally returned to him, standing between his legs.

"If we're doing this, we're doing it right."

"I agree. Caring about the ambiance, very sexy of you."

He grinned. "Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"Kiss me," Louis said softly.

There was no hesitation this time. Not a moment passed and their lips were attached, creating something sweeter and deeper. Louis already had a habit of running his fingers through Harry's hair, and he acted on it now, getting tangled in the soft curls and losing himself too. They ended up lying horizontally with no recollection of the process, wrapped up in each other, not individuals anymore but a collective, a duality.

Louis rolled them over onto their sides and took the liberty of hooking his leg over Harry's thigh in an effort to bring their bodies closer together, disappearing the space between them. It was hard to remember that this was real life, that this was happening right now and somehow the events of today had sequentially resulted in this moment.

They kissed for a long time. It was the kind of activity that Louis would be content to do forever. Harry's hands were so gentle on him and his lips were soft. He was languid and sweet but there was so much heat behind his actions, so much passion when he tilted Louis' chin or stroked his side or rutted their hips together.