Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table (Larry Stylinson)

Four

It's starting to really get to Harry, the not knowing. There had always been a certain safety in landing firmly in the friend zone despite his general discomfort around it, but that's been taken from him and he's not sure how to move forward.

He should definitely delete the video and draw a line under the entire thing, but he knows there will be a forever constant feeling of 'what if I was wrong about everything?' and he's not confident he can deal with that in the long term. And he definitely can't deal with the not knowing for much longer, so that leaves telling Louis everything, which makes Harry feel sick to his stomach.

So he'll wait, until the festive holidays are over at least, before he decides what to do. He's pretty sure whatever happens he'll be living with the consequences for a while.

***

Louis is in Harry's kitchen making some sandwiches for them while Harry collects the crisps and drinks, setting them down on the small table. They're going Christmas shopping later so decided to fuel up before facing the hell on earth that is the Trafford Centre in December. The radio is on in the background and Louis hums away while he works.

Harry comes up behind him, peering over his shoulder and clearing his throat. "Remember, not too much-"

"-mayonnaise," Louis finishes for him, reaching up to poke Harry in the cheek. "Yes H, I remember." Harry watches as Louis uses the back of the knife to scrape the excess condiment off of what must be Harry's slices of bread, and spreads it onto his own. Harry backs away, going to sit down at the table and help himself to a handful of crisps from the bowl.

Maybe it's times like these that Harry loves him the most, when they're being almost domestic and quiet and can just be . There's always going to be the itch of lust, the desire to spoil, the yearning to show Louis off as the most precious thing in Harry's life whether he knows it or not, but when it comes down to it, Harry is happiest when it's just the two of them in their own weird, little bubble, doing almost nothing.

" And that was Perfect by Ed Sheeran ," the radio host begins from the speaker sitting on top of the windowsill. " Just for Debbie and Craig who are celebrating their anniversary today. Perfect was their first dance song at their wedding! Isn't that nice? " Louis chuckles to himself as he pulls ham slices from a packet beside him.

"Why's that funny?" Harry asks his back, confused.

"Dunno, was the 'just for Debbie and Craig' bit, like they're the only people that have used that song for their first dance. It's probably one of the most popular wedding songs in the world right now."

"It's a nice one though."

Louis picks up a knife, presumably to cut the sandwiches in half. Harry's a rectangular guy, Louis likes them in triangles. Harry wonders if it's just him that remembers useless information like that. "It is, if a bit predictable."

"You have a better idea?" Harry asks as Louis bends down to collect two plates from one of the cupboards. And there's that itch of lust prickling Harry's skin again. He wasn't even an arse man until he met Louis. Or a thigh man. When Louis moves like that though, when his arse and thighs look that obscene in denim, it makes Harry's mouth water at the thought of bending him over any surface he can find and fucking him until he's satisfied.

"Mmmm." Louis is silent for a moment while he plates up their lunch and then he's spinning around, eyebrow already raised. "Maybe Highway To Hell?"

The laugh that explodes from Harry sounds akin to a foghorn. Louis' quick wit. You can add that to the list of reasons why Harry's so infatuated. "Well at least it wouldn't be predictable," he chuckles.

"Exactly." Louis walks over and places Harry's sandwich in front of him, taking his seat across the table and setting his own plate down. Harry can't help smiling to himself, he's got his rectangles, as a triangle is already making its way to Louis' mouth.

"What song would you actually choose?"

Louis chews and swallows "Uh, 'suppose it depends on the kind of first dance you want? Some people do those crazy routines now, don't they? All choreographed shit and that?"

"Yeah, I couldn't do that, I'd fuck it up." Harry takes a bite.

"Course you would," Louis agrees, "you're a nightmare on the dance floor."

"Heeeeey, I'm not that bad." Harry takes another handful of crisps and slides the bowl across the table towards Louis. "I'd be fine with a slow dance, I reckon."

"Yeah, you'd be good at that," Louis begins as he shakes some crisps onto his plate, not looking at Harry as he speaks. "All romantic. Hold them close and whisper nice stuff in their ear, make them forget there were people there." It sounds so gentle, so dreamlike and pure. Harry's eyes widen and Louis gazes up at him. "What?"

Where does Harry even begin? "Nothing, just, uh, you'd think I'd be romantic?"

Louis coughs and sits back in his chair, picking at his beard, a tick he has when he's nervous. "Yeah, cause you like that sorta stuff. How many romantic comedies have you made me watch?"

Harry's heart deflates as quickly as it had expanded. "You don't have to say yes if you don't want to watch them, you know?" He picks up the last bit of his sandwich and stuffs it into his mouth, chewing roughly.

Louis nudges Harry's leg with his foot under the table. "Oi, come on. You know that's not what I'm saying. I like them too. Think you're a bit more of a natural romantic than I am, though."

"I think you can be romantic," Harry assures him. Louis might not be a 'buying flowers' or 'writing love poems' kind of a person, but he's still full of sweet gestures.

Louis shrugs, moving a crisp around his plate. "Only for the right kind of person, maybe."

"And what kind of person is that?" Harry could be the right kind of person, definitely. There's never been an articulate way of showing that without threatening what they already have together, but there is no doubt in Harry's mind that if Louis was open to it, they would be perfect.

Louis smiles at him, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "If I find out, you'll be the first to know."