Larry Stylinson ao3 one shots.

I Taste You On My Lips (And I Can't Get Rid Of You)

Part 2.

Written by:MarchieTheHare

Summary:He gapes at his phone for a long time. He's gone so quiet that Niall walks back into the living room, a somewhat worried look on his face. Harry doesn't see this look, of course, because his eyes are still glued to his now locked phone, but he can imagine it clearly when he hears the concern in Niall's voice, "Are you still alive, H?"

Harry blinks slowly a few times. "He's asking me out to dinner."

(harry and louis meet again. this time, they don't just fuck, but go on a lot of dates as well).

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"Just fucking text him if you're that interested."

Harry looks up from where he's been staring at his phone for the last god-knows-how-many minutes and frowns at Niall. The blond isn't even looking at him, though, too absorbed in the movie playing out on their crappy telly.

"I am not," he answers Niall's accusation, a bit belatedly, staring back at his phone and furrowing his brows as he reads over Louis' text for the thousandth time that day.

thanks for last night, princess. i had fun ;)

He can feel a blush creeping up his face just thinking of what exactly happened last night-just thinking of how much Louis called him 'darling' and 'love' and 'princess', Christ-which does nothing but prove Niall's point of him being interested and all that.

"Your phone might burst into flames if you keep staring at it like that," Niall says after a moment, and here's the thing: he isn't even fucking looking at Harry.

"Am I really that obvious?" Harry asks, pouting at his flat mate.

Niall snorts, keeping his eyes trained on the telly. Harry isn't even sure what Niall finds so interesting in Mean Girls anymore-they've watched it dozens of times before, during their manly bro sleepovers with Liam, so it shouldn't be that entertaining for Niall anymore, really.

"Mate," the blond begins, "I'm your best friend. I know you."

He doesn't deny it, instead just crawls over Niall and drapes his long arms around the blond. "What should I do, Ni? Niiiiiiiiiii."

"Harry, what the fuck," Niall says, but there's no real heat or annoyance behind his words. In fact he even shifts on the couch so that Harry can be draped over him more comfortably, fingers tangling through Harry's curls. Harry snuggles his face against Niall's shirt and feels the blond pet at his hair. "Just do the normal thing and text him."

"But what if he doesn't want me to?" Harry whines. "It was just a one night stand."

He doesn't need to look up to know that Niall has a bit of an incredulous look on his face. Harry knows the blond like the back of his hand-after all, it was Niall who took him in when he was fifteen and ran away from home, two years ago, and it was Niall who he's been with ever since.

"Harry, he took your number from your phone while you were asleep. He actually sent you a text." Niall pauses for a moment, probably getting distracted by what's happening on the telly. He sounds a bit occupied when he continues, "Sounds to me like he wants you to text him back, at the very least."

Harry thinks about it for a moment. "But what do I text him?"

"Tell him you had a good time as well, or something." Niall tugs on his hair, making him look up. The blond has a smirk on his face now. "Which I'm pretty sure you did judging by those marks on your neck."

Harry blushes and smacks his friend hard on the chest. "Shut up."

Niall laughs, cuddling Harry against his chest. "No, but really." He pets at Harry's hair again, knowing how much the gesture relaxes the younger boy. "Just text him if you really want to, okay."