A/N: Hello my lovely space rangers! This is my first One Direction fic, so I apologise for my shitty writing. Comments or feedback is always appreciated! Hope you like it! xx
Pairing: Larry Stylinson.
Summary: “Your soft spot for this boy will be the death of you, Louis Tomlinson, the Doncaster lad thought to himself.”
Louis sighed, leaning his forehead on the cool glass of the window in the One Direction van. The London on the opposite side of the glass was still, and asleep; the lights on the street were dimmed and the neon store signs had been long since extinguished, contrasting to the blinking lights that usually flashed wildly during the night when many people would prowl the crowded streets. It was late – close to one AM, the red letters on the dashboard signalled – and the boys were all tired, sitting in the van, being driven back to their apartments after a late night interview. Who even scheduled interviews at midnight? Not anyone in their right mind, Louis thought to himself.
He was sitting comfortably in the middle row with Liam and Niall on his left, Niall’s head buried in the crook of Liam’s shoulder, the older boy’s arm curling defensively around the Irishman’s waist. Paul had his eyes on the road, staring into the darkness, eyes darting to the clock on the dashboard every three minutes or so. Harry and Zayn, on the other hand were seated in the back row, the glow from the screen of their respective phones illuminating their features, whispering and giggling in hushed tones.
The Doncaster boy’s hands gripped even more tightly around the water bottle he was holding, his eyes were stinging with fatigue, and his head was pounding slightly, almost as if someone was gently knocking from the inside of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that sleep would finally overcome his tired body.
The van slowly came to a stop in front of Liam and Niall’s apartment. Liam shook Niall gently, trying to get the blond boy to wake up, but the Irish boy only murmured a refusal and snuggled closer into the boy he was sleeping on.
“Do you want me to wake him?” Paul asked Liam in a gentle voice, as he opened the door for the two.
The Wolverhampton boy only shook his head with a slight smile in response, and shifted Niall so that the younger of the two was cradled in his lap. Liam put one arm under Niall’s knee and the other around his waist and came to a stand, getting out of the van, barely wobbling as he took in the blond boy’s weight in addition to his own. He turned and bid his goodbyes to remaining band members, Zayn and Harry climbing over the seats to sit next to Louis in the middle row.
Liam, carrying a sleeping Niall in his arms made his way towards the apartment complex, with Paul close on his heels, walking ahead to swipe the key card, opening the door to the building. The doors closed behind the trio and the remaining members of One Direction waited in the van for Paul’s return so that they could drive Zayn back to his apartment.
“Hi Boo Bear,” Harry smiled up at Louis through his long eyelashes, resting his chin on Louis’ forearm, green eyes gleaming.
“Hi Haz,” Louis muttered tiredly, managing to pull his lips up into a small smile for the green eyed boy.
“Are you okay, Boo? You look sad,” the curly haired boy asked the elder worriedly with a slight pout. “My Louis’ sad?” Harry pouted.
“No, I’m just a little tired,” Louis replied. “Don’t worry, Hazza. I’ll just sleep it off when we get home. I’ll be fine tomorrow morning,” he added after a further worried look from Harry.
“Okay, if you say so, Lou,” Harry beamed back. Paul returned to the van; closing the door, the van took off again. Harry turned back to Zayn, whispering something into his ear and both giggling. Louis leaned his head back on the window, his eyes fluttering closed, hoping to catch some sleep with the remaining 20 minutes of the journey home left.
The image of Niall’s small body huddled against Liam’s as the older of the two carried the younger towards their apartment swam in Louis’ head. Why couldn’t someone carry him like that? Of course he couldn’t expect Eleanor to carry him. I wonder how that’d be like, he thought to himself, laughing a little.
“Oooh, what dirty thoughts are you thinking of, Lou?” Harry voice broke into Louis’ thoughts.
Louis opened his eyes to the image of Harry with his seatbelt unbuckled, lying on Zayn’s lap, his knees pointing towards the ceiling, head propped up slightly by the car door, and his legs cramped up in the small space where his bum occupied a short moment ago, with one of Zayn’s hands resting on Harry’s toned chest. For some reason, the scene concerning the Bradford boy and the curly haired Cheshire lad caused something in Louis’ chest to constrict a noticeable amount.
“Just pictured El carrying me like Liam was carrying Nialler just now,” Louis shared with the two boys. “Imagine that…”
Zayn’s laugh boomed through the quiet van. “Her thin arms will never be able to pick up your tight little ass, Louis.” He said, eyeing Louis’ red jean covered bum. “Just like that girl we saw in Houston… That ass is one hell of an ass,” he laughed, sharing a knowing look with Harry. The curly haired boy in his lap broke into a fit of giggles, gasping incoherent words only Zayn seemed to understand.
Louis’ chest seemed to be constricting a little harder at the sight of Zayn and Harry sharing an inside joke which he didn’t know of. Harry and Louis were the ones who shared inside jokes; Harry and Louis were the ones who laughed at perverted things together; Harry and Louis were the ones who snuggled and sat in each other’s laps. Not Zayn and Harry. He managed a fake laugh at the inside joke between Zayn and Harry. Not him and Harry. He turned back to the window and stared outside to the calm streets of London morning. Harry and Zayn continued to whisper and giggle at jokes Zayn was whispering into Harry’s ear.
Ten more minutes passed until they pulled up in front of Zayn’s apartment. And Zayn pulled Harry off his lap after crushing him in a hug, sharing one last giggle as he got out of the van and left Harry and Louis alone with Paul and the driver as they drove towards Louis and Harry’s apartments.
“Louuuu?” Harry questioned, turning himself around so that his head was comfortably settled on Louis’ lap. “Are you okay? You look sad,” he pouted a little.
“Haz, you already asked. I’m… Fine,” he replied, hesitating on his word choice, avoiding a tone in his voice which Harry may suspect and continue asking about it.
“Alright then,” Harry smiled up at Louis, clambering up into a sitting position, snuggling up to the older boy, draping his legs over the elders’ lap. “Hi Boo, I missed you today,” he said, tucking his head into the crook of Louis’ neck. Harry’s curly hair tickled Louis’ cheek and neck as he nuzzled in closer. Louis wrapped his arms around the younger boy’s waist, holding him closer. Mine, Louis thought to himself.
“I missed you too, Curly,” the blue eyed boy breathed. “You were with Zayn the whole day, so don’t you complain.”
“Is someone jealous?” The younger of the two asked mischievously.
“Of course not, why would I be?” Louis snorted back in reply. No, the older boy thought to himself, I couldn’t have been, why would I be? It’s not like I own Harry.
“I don’t know, why, Lou?”
Louis opened his mouth to protest – to tell Harry that he wasn’t in the least bit jealous – but Paul’s deep voice rumbled, breaking the silence.
“We’re here, go get yourself some sleep. The van will be picking you up at eleven, so don’t be late. If you’re late, Niall won’t be getting any food, and that is one big pain the bum you don’t want to be encountering.”
“But Paul,” Harry whined. “Why can’t you go with Nialler to get food before you come pick Lou and me up?”
“Because if we go to Nandos before we come pick you up, we’ll have to take an extra fifteen minutes to come back and get you. And if you don’t go to Nandos, Niall will complain,” Paul reasoned.
“Don’t pout, Haz. Come on, let’s go and get some sleep.” Louis said. “Then we can spice Niall’s Peri-Peri Chicken or something, yeah?” he whispered in the younger boys’ ear.
Harry’s green eyes lit up with mischievous excitement as he bounded out of the van, a big smile plastered onto his face. Louis shook his head at his flatmate, who had already reached the elevator and was waving him over.
“Thanks Paul, goodnight, see you tomorrow!” Louis smiled, grabbing Harry’s jumper which the younger boy had left behind, stepping out of the van and walking towards his flatmate. Together, they rode the elevator with Harry’s excited babbling and arrived outside their apartment. “Harry, when we enter the apartment, you’re going to go take a shower, and crawl into bed, alright?” Louis ordered. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by the elder, “No. If you make excessive noise, I’m not going to help you spice Niall’s breakfast.” The younger boy nodded with a pout, watching his band mate open the door to the massive apartment the two shared.
Louis threw the jumper that he was holding onto the couch, and made his way to the shower, rubbing his eyes tiredly, discarding items of clothing as he walked; shoes by the door, socks by the couch, jumper on the kitchen island, shirt in the hallway, and trousers at the bathroom door until he was standing in his boxer shorts in the bathroom. Stepping onto the cold, tiled shower, he turned the water, exhaling deeply, closing his eyes as the hot jets of water hit him, soothing his tired muscles. Sleep was slowly creeping back to him as his body dropped his tension from the busy day.
He towelled himself dry, and stepped into a shirt and boxers. As he walked to his bedroom, Harry’s usual shower-concerts were not heard, and the sound of water running was absent from the quiet apartment.
“Haz?” Louis called out to the seemingly empty apartment. “Hazza, where are you?” He continued calling, walking towards Harry’s bedroom, which he only found empty. The older flatmate checked his own room, Harry’s bathroom, the study, the kitchen, the dining room, and finally into the living room, where he found the younger boy sprawled out on the sofa, asleep. Louis knelt next to Harry’s sleeping figure, shaking the latter gently. The curly haired boy did not wake up, and only turned his back upon Louis, mumbling for the elder to leave him alone. “Come on, Haz. You’ll complain about neck pains tomorrow morning and blame it on me if you continue sleeping here,” Louis whispered. The boy only stirred a little, making no motion of getting up or returning to his bedroom.
Louis’ mind wandered back to a short while ago, where Liam had carried a sleeping Niall back to their apartment because the blond haired boy was not willing to wake up. Maybe I can carry Harry back to his room… He pondered for a moment. No, what if I drop him… Or what if he wants to sleep on the sofa? Louis thought, knowing that both thoughts were outrageous – he was more than capable of carrying Harry, and the thought of Harry wanting to spend his night on the sofa made him laugh.
“Don’t tell me tomorrow morning that you’ve got neck pains, Haz. I’m going to bed now. Sleep tight,” Louis whispered to Harry, throwing Harry’s jumper that he had discarded on the arm of the sofa as he had entered the apartment.
Sleep overcame Louis Tomlinson as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Louis woke up with a groan – he’d had one of those dreams where he was walking and slipped, causing his whole body to jerk up. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table: 4:02 AM, the red letters blinked. What a shitty time to have a dream, he thought. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself up to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water to quench his dry throat.
As he made his way back to his room again, a dark lump on the sofa caught his eye. Oh yeah, Harry’s still sleeping on the sofa, he remembered. He diverted his course and walked to the sofa, perching on the edge where the younger boy was sleeping in what looked like an uncomfortable position.
Louis couldn’t let Harry spend the night like that. He’d already spent a three hours sleeping like that, and the older boy was certain that his band mate would be sporting an uncomfortable neck ache the next morning. He sighed and gave in. Your soft spot for this boy will be the death of you, Louis Tomlinson, the Doncaster lad thought to himself as he lifted Harry’s sleeping figure up off the sofa. Harry sighed contently as Louis laid him on his soft bed. Louis tucked Harry up like a small child, watching in wonder as the curly haired boy slept soundly, his eyebrows knitting up from whatever dream he was having.
Without thinking, Louis reached out a hand to smooth out the younger boy’s knotted up eyebrows, his thumb stroking the creases gently as they relaxed. Retracting his hand, the blue eyed boy got up from Harry’s bed, and a sudden urge to kiss the younger boy overcame Louis. The older boy, giving in to his urges, leant over, his lips hovering a few centimetres over the younger boy’s full lips. What if he wakes up? Louis thought to himself. But his urge to kiss his band mate was irresistible. Instead, he kissed the sleeping boy softly on the forehead, and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Why did you do that, Louis? He questioned himself as he stared at up at his ceiling. He was confused. He had a perfect girlfriend; Eleanor was beautiful, nice, charming, sweet, and basically everything a man would look for, and he knew that he was more than lucky to have her in his life. She acted as support and a connection to home for Louis. She was always there for him, whispering soothing words (usually through the phone) into his ear when he needed comfort, holding his hand when he needed the encouragement, and having a good laugh with him when he needed to be himself away from the consistent cameras. Then why did he have the urge to kiss his band mate? The question circulated Louis’ head as sleep slowly invaded his mind again.