Each To Their Own (Larry Stylinson) *COMPLETE*

Chapter One

A/N: I couldn't wait to post it so yeah, please will someone make a cover for me *insert innocent face here*

He doesn't really know how it started, the hatred, between goths and punks, something probably happened in the past, but he was just sort of born into a world like that, a prejudice world. Louis was okay with it though, he didn't really like the punks, they were too loud, swore too much, wore awful clothes that hurt his eyes because they were so bright, it was easier to just stay away. That reason and another because one of the punks was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, not that he thought about boys in that way, that was a sin, to God and the church, he just couldn’t, no. Being gay is disgusting, inhumane, the bible recites nothing at all relating to homosexuality so it is therefore not acceptable, was Jesus gay? Was one of the disciples gay? Was God gay? No, no, no. One of the Ten Commandments might as well have been ‘thou shalt not fuck a male’ However, despite knowing all this and being deeply religious himself, Louis was not a homophobe, these words were imprinted in his brain, by his mother, father, priest, anyone could tell you how bad it was to be gay, but Louis was entitled to his own opinion, even if he couldn’t share it without a risk of being disowned. So, no, Louis definitely did not fancy one of the punks, of all people.

They always seem to bump into each other round and about, quite literally.

Louis had his head down as he walked across the pavement, stepping over the cracks in the paving stones out of pure boredom. He had an ASDA bag swinging loosely by his side, he could remember when he was younger and how he did the exact same thing walking down the street, except when he was younger he had to jump and leap to the next stone but he would have somebody’s hand in his, helping him along.

He carried on for a few more metres when he felt himself crash into someone, he felt a hand grab onto his bicep to stop him from falling over, he felt a lot of things, and annoyance was definitely not one of them, he really should start looking where he was going. When he opened his eyes he was still looking down at the ground and he was faced with a pair of black boots, tied up halfway between the knee and the heel with shocking pink laces. He snapped his head up to see a boy with a mop of chocolate brown curls and stunning green eyes. He had dark makeup under his eyes (eyeliner? on a guy?..guy liner?) and a piercing in his nose, lip and above his eye. Louis could see an array of tattoos peeking out from the v line of the t shirt the boy was wearing, it looked like one of those band t-shirts that you can get at Primark for a couple of pounds. The boy swiped his tongue across his lips, wetting them slightly, about to speak, giving Louis a viewing of another piercing, a purple diamond in the middle of his tongue, oh wow, that must have hurt having it put in.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” the boy spoke, talking slow and deep, enticing Louis and making him want to hear more words come out of the metal decorated mouth. The boy was still yet to take his hand off Louis’ arm, but Louis didn’t shake it off, he didn’t mind really, he welcomed the fuzzy, warm tingles running through his arm. Louis nodded, his fringe flopping into his eye causing him to flick his head again to flip it back in place.

“It’s okay, it was my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Louis replied, not wanting to make the boy think it was his fault. He was ready to stand his ground if the boy thought any different.

“Well I was pretty out of it too, it was both of our faults?” the boy said smiling and running his hand down the rest of Louis’ arm then releasing it when it reached his wrist. That sounded good to Louis so he nodded his head, smiling back. “I’m Harry by the way” the curly haired boy said, sticking his hand out into the space between them, Louis took it in his and shook it slightly, dropping it after a few seconds saying,

“Louis, very nice to meet you” Harry’s grin widened when Louis said he enjoyed meeting him, it was pretty adorable if Louis could remember correctly.

“Nice name, Italian isn’t it? Well, anyway I gotta be heading off now, see ya later” Harry said as he side-stepped round Louis and carried on walking down the street in the opposite direction of where Louis was going. All the while Louis was thinking, ‘no, it’s not fucking Italian, it’s French’ but he was too shy to say anything, Harry just said it in a way that was so proud of himself for knowing that that he didn’t want to upset the boy, plus the boy had already scarpered after Louis’ mind had stopped swooning at the fact Harry liked his name. He said ‘see you later’ does that mean he wanted to bump into him again? To see him again? Become friends? Because Louis would surely not say no to another meeting with the enigma. Maybe Louis was analysing this too much, it was just a figure of speech, and he wasn’t going to see him again, right?

But that was ages ago. Before he found out he was a punk, before Harry had tattoos covering most of his arms, hardly any flesh left showing. Louis didn’t know what to do when he first saw him at school, he just did what Harry did, completely ignore each other and pretend that they had never met beforehand, maybe Harry wasn’t pretending, maybe he had forgotten, Louis really didn’t know.