larry smut

well i know that there's a limit to everything - 3/4

"The best," Harry slurs out. His heart gives a heavy thump in his chest as Louis sighs and places his glasses on the nightstand.

"I texted you a dozen times, H. I was worried." Louis crosses his arms and observes quietly as Harry shucks off his shoes and pants.

"Yeah, well I was with the lads and the music was loud. I must not have heard it." Hary disappears into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a thin headband that he uses to shove his sweaty fringe up off his face.

"Well that's a shitty excuse. I had to resort to looking up pictures of you on twitter like a 15-year-old girl. You had a fucking stripper in your lap!"

And that. That gets to Harry. It strikes a chord inside him that he usually tries to repress. It doesn't come out often, but it's always there in the back of his mind.

"Christ, Lou. Did you happen to forget I like men? Specifically you? Or that you prance around with your fake girlfriend in front of my face every other goddamn day? Nick hired the stripper as a joke and you're acting like I fucking cheated on you." Harry's starting to feel a lot less sober and he wishes he was back at the club with his friends.

"You know that's not by choice so don't try throwing that in my face. You know damn well I would rather spend every night here with you." Louis gets up abruptly from the bed just as Harry comes to sit down. He scrubs a shaky hand over his face and peels the curtain open to look out the window and down on the quiet street.

"So that's what this is about," Harry says quietly. Louis chances a glance back at him and sees him picking at a loose thread on the duvet, brows furrowed and eyes shiny. "You're still mad I ditched you on my birthday."

"I'm sorry, Haz. I tried so hard all day not to be angry but – you know how much I don't like Nick and you know how mad I am that we can't just, just fucking go out together and celebrate your fucking birthday Harry; it's your birthday and I can't even be with you." Louis leans his forehead against the cool window pane and watches as his breath fogs the glass. "I'm not trying to like, hold you back or make you hole up in the house with me but I just, I felt a little betrayed."

Louis takes a deep breath and braves another glance at Harrys face. He's sitting, loosely cross legged, on the bed. He's unbuttoned his shirt, his stupid, adorable, heart shirt, and his black briefs. His hair is pulled back and his ringlet curls have fallen into soft waves that brush the tips of his ears. He's gorgeous, Louis thinks. Of course, he always thinks that. Harry's a vision.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Lou. I knew you were mad when I left and I was so close to coming back and calling the whole thing off, but. I don't want this, this situation, to consume both of us."

"I don't want that either," Louis sighs resignedly. "It's just hard."

"I know,love. It's hard for me to. And sometimes we have to brush off the little things and stay strong, otherwise every night will end like this." Harry sucks his bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it with a wet pop. "I hate fighting with you."

Louis studies Harry for a moment, skin glowing in the soft light of the room and hands clasped together on his lap. He looks troubled, brow furrowed in deep thought and eyes downcast. Slowly, Louis crosses the room and knees his way onto the bed and into Harrys open arms. The younger boy buries his neck into Louis' neck and sighs heavily. They stay like that for a few silent moments, relishing the feeling of comfort.

"I'm sorry for ruining your birthday," Louis murmurs quietly. He's suddenly overcome by a fresh wave of guilt at the idea of having trashed the entire day with his petty jealousy.