How Cliche Can We Get? (Larry Stylinson Fanfic)

Chapter 1

***HARRY'S POV***

"So I guess this is it then," Louis choked out, eyes clouded over with sorrow, revealing his pensive side, the side to him that rarely surfaces, but when it does rest assured that its for adequate reason. His typical spontaneous and buoyant demeanor has superseded to this disgruntled character that makes you want to simply wrap your arms around him enveloping him in your warmth. The same warmth that will be abroad as I lay alone in bed tonight, snuggled up to my half of our 'his and her' blankets that we got at the airport last year. If only he would do the same.

"Boo, it's going to be okay. We'll get through this. Who knows how long it's going to be. It could only be for a couple of weeks we're not sure, okay." I stopped talking as I snaked my arms around him and nestled my head in the crook of his neck discreetly inhaling his familiar scent. This felt so right, so impossibly right, that I thought I would slip up for a moment there. But no matter how right, how natural it felt, it was just so...wrong. I shouldn't feel this way about my best mate. I just shouldn't. It would ruin everything.

Knocking me out of me trance Louis pipes up, "But what if it's not that easy to fix? What if the press takes it too far? What if they don't let it go? What then Haz? We just stop being best mates, we aren't aloud in public together anymore, not aloud to show any companionship towards one another anywhere people can see us. Hell, they're already putting regulations similar to those on us. For fucks sake Harry, you're moving out!" And with that, the barrier he had constructed was torn a slender and he allowed tears to stream freely down his flawless tanned skin.

"Loubear, it's going to be okay," I said, more so reassuring myself than him. As I rubbed circles on the small of his back, compunction starts to settle in, creating a permanent home in the bottom of my gut. Why did I have to be so stupid? This is all because of me. If I hadn't suggested that we go to that bar that night none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have caused this ship wreck to eventuate, leaving us secluded in the middle of the ocean only to be engulfed by the waters that will be our death.

It was one measly drunken kiss. Emphasizing the drunken aspect of that. Well maybe I shouldn't, because when it happened I swear I had never been so sober in my life. No matter how much alcohol was pulsing through my veins, nothing could stop me from indulging in that kiss. That long awaited kiss. The way his slightly rough lips moved with mine in perfect synchronization. In cliche stories you hear that it felt like 'magic, like someone set off fireworks inside of them', well for me it felt like fucking world war two was in full throttle. The way it felt is simply indescribable, you could say it was pulchritudinous, that it was superlative, that my whole body was consumed by an unmeasurable amount of zeal, you could say so much and it wouldn't be enough. Even when I'm just around him there wouldn't be enough adjectives in the world to describe the burning passion and desire I feel for him. Since the beginning of our journey, I had always been stuck in a wallowing pit of denial. The day I made eye contact with him in the bathroom, I knew I was a goner but dismissively shrugged off what ever feelings I had for him and convinced myself that it was just my nerves from performing. But after about a year of fighting an inner battle with myself, I relinquished, and finally allowed myself to be okay with my love for him. I was okay with the fact that as straight as I am, I was in love with my best mate, my male best mate. I'm not gay, I'm sure of that, I feel it more appropriate to say that he's my only exception. I'm lousexual.

I Harry Edward Styles, am in love my band mate, best mate, soul mate, Louis William Tomlinson. And he will never know. Ever. He just cant.

But it doesn't matter anyway, because managment wriggled their way into this mixed up equation anyway. Now me and Lou are being separated, cleaved right down the middle. Management has forced me to vacate out of our flat and have some hired chick, Eleanor I think, move into Louis and I's (well once mine) flat and have her pose as Lou's girlfriend, in order to abate suspision and seize the rumors. Its a load of bullshit if you ask me.

If they think that they can just niggle with Lou and I's friendship like that, and diceive us, especially with everything that we have done for them, they're going to wish that they hadn't.

I am startled out of my vexed trance as, Lou's soft and lenient thumb graces over my cheek wiping away the stray tear that had rested there. Since when did I start crying? What person cries over something like this? "Sweet cheeks, please don't cry," Louis pleaded.

"I wasn't crying," I retorted.Louis raised his eye brow, and wore an amused smirk. "What, I wasn't." His grin grew wider. "Lou I had something in my eye." He let out a chuckle and playfully rolled his eyes.

"Sure curly, what ever you say. You know you're going to miss this," he said as he suggestively skimmed his hands down his perfect lean body and added this ridiculous dance at the end. I barked out a laugh. Clutching the sides of my stomach as I let my laughter overcome me.

"Not half as much as you'll miss this babe," and with that I ripped of my shirt and started dancing around mimicking his ridiculous dance he just did moments ago. Before we knew it we were thrown into another torrent of laughter.

Finally, several minutes later, we helped each other up off from the ground. We stood there, in utter silence, a comfortable one though, and just gazed at each other, before wrapping each other in a tight and constricting embrace. This gave me another opportunity to smell his enticing scent. He pulled his head back keeping his body still aligned with mine and looked me in the face, his eyes glossed over with forming tears. "I'm going to miss this. Us. You." He looked down and then back up at me again. "I really am."

"Boo I'm going to miss you too." I fought back the urge to laugh at the pathetic and non-comical rhyme I had just said. And clearly he noticed.

"Just laugh already," he said voice cracking as he let out a laugh, which I soon joined in on. 'We're so stupid' I thought to myself.

"Harry. Your cab awaits you," some upper management official intrudes. Lou's head snaps around as he glares at the woman, giving her the 'get the fuck out of here before I rip your head off, consume it, then regurgitate it in your grandmothers mouth' look. Noticing the remark she quickly backs out of the room.

"Well, I guess I should, umm, be going then Lou." I said my voice cracking at the end. And I let my eyes well up with tears, but refusing to let them fall.

Louis sniffles, "I guess so." I allow my body to be beckoned to his as he reciprocates the act. We stand there for what felt like hours, just holding each other, until the woman from management returned.

"Harry, you really need to be going," she said with a weak smile, but it soon faded as sympathy broke through. She didn't leave this time, instead she waited for me, probably afraid if she leaves again, we'll turn this into a cycle of procrastination.

"Okay, so uh, bye Pumpkin," this time I finally gave in to my dejection, as a single tear streamed down my cheek. I didn't bother wiping it as a quickly placed my lips to Louis' cheek, letting it linger there for a moment or so too long. I gazed into his glistening beads he calls eyes, causing yet another tear to roll down my face.

I bowed my head and before he could stop me I left the room, left the flat, left Lou, left my life.