Out Of Nowhere - A Larry Stylinson story

Grab Happiness

When Harry so somberly told Louis they needed to talk, all Louis' internal alarms had gone off. Of course, he immediately thought of the worst. There was little he could do about it though, so he followed Harry into the house, and they sat on the couch.

"Lou, I'm sorry I've been actin' so . . . reserved lately," Harry got it out in the open before he chickened out.

Louis sat back on the couch in a casual pose, trying to exude fake confidence by laying his arm along the top of the couch, yet watching Harry closely. He was fairly sure there wasn't some bigger agenda behind Harry's apology.

"And I know I've been . . . detached too, in me own way," he returned.

"So . . . " Harry ran his hand thru his thick dark locks to stall for a few moments to pull himself together.

"I guess we should both provide an explanation as to why we've behaved so distantly toward each other."

Louis stared at him. "What's with all the formality?" he asked, on the verge of being amused. Since when did Harry talk like that?

"Um, I guess I've been runnin' what I was gonna say through my mind, and kind of memorized a speech, so to speak."

"You don't have to do that, Haz. Just tell me what's buggin' you."

"You're right," Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "I've been thinkin' about the fact that I had no right to . . . um, kiss you." Harry's eyes locked with his for a second and then darted away again.

"I know, I know. We're already talked about this," Louis felt impatient and maybe also a little surly.

"But isn't it important to you, the fact that you might have a family?" asked Harry.

Louis knew he was avoiding the issue that was eating away at Harry.

"I was livin' in the moment, I reckon," he said. "What did you want me to do, anyway? Yank away from you and run into the house?"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that question. They'd both been very passionate, and was he being fair to come on to Louis that way? No, he wasn't.

"No, but . . . I'm mad at myself, I guess."

"Harry, I'm not gonna be a pussy and avoid you. I'm feelin' it too. And if you don't want physical contact, you're gonna have to stop touchin' me!" Louis was fast becoming majorly annoyed.

"That's precisely why I've been avoidin' you since it happened. You can't get involved with me if you already have a life with someone else." That last part had been a bitch for Harry to say aloud.

"But you touched me before that, plenty." Louis was thinking of that steady, reassuring hand on his shoulder or his back.

"I know, and I have to stop it altogether."

Louis had taken instant note of Harry's statement about "getting involved" with him. It was the first time either of them had breathed a word of anything smacking of something permanent.

Louis had almost gasped in near disbelief. Was Harry afraid of getting too close? The way he, himself, was? Holy shit, it sounded like they were on the same page. He'd not allowed himself to delve too deeply into the theory that he might have a significant other out there somewhere. Fact was, he'd given in to the drug that was Harry. Harry had taken over all his senses, dominated his daydreams, and he hadn't wanted to think of anything or anyone else.

It was time he got some sense into his head, and stepped back into the real world. Problem was, Harry was all he knew. It was difficult to imagine being close to anyone else. He felt that Harry completed him. And now they wouldn't have it anymore . . .