Larry Stylinson - One Shots

Maybe it's the way you wake me up

A SHORT STORY

WORDS: 871

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"Lou?"

The sound of shifting sheets and a little sound of recognition was the only answer Harry got; he pouted at the lack of response.

"Boobear, are you awake?" he tries again, this time reaching out a foot and jamming a toe into the side of the sleeping man.

Another sound, this one more annoyed than the last, and then Louis has the audacity to turn on his side away from Harry. Harry frowns deeply at the movement, not at all pleased. He was already literally risking the safety of his ass by balancing his backside on the edge of his bunk and his toes curled around the edge of Louis'; their bunks had been across from each other's on the tourbus for as long as Harry could remember. Pulling his thumb away from his mouth- he tends to bite on the tip of it when he's thinking- he carelessly leans forward and jabs Louis in the back with his finger this time.

"Baby, wake up," and now he's whining.

"No," Louis grunts quietly.

"Please."

At last, the older man gives in, but not without a long and dramatic sigh. Harry is back to his original careless position when Louis rolls back over, squinting through the dark of the bus to try and make out the features of his boyfriend.

"What?" he grumbles, his tired voice sending goosebumps all down Harry's back. Said boy grins triumphantly.

"Wake up," he urges, leaning forward against his bent knees again.

"Why?"

Harry could feel himself blush, grateful for the current dark state of the bus. He hadn't really thought this far ahead to be honest. Really, at first, he just wanted to talk to Louis and make sure they were okay after the concert earlier that day, but now he just really wanted to cuddle. While he searched for a way to tell Louis just that without sounding completely cheesy and clingy, Louis seemed to be slowly falling back into sleep. Harry's glad that at least one of them wasn't having issues sleeping.

"Love," Louis grumbles softly, "if you're going to talk then you may want to do it while I'm still awake." He yawns then, snuggling down further into the thick blankets he brought on the bus with him from home; Harry takes to biting on his thumb again.

Where does one start a conversation about jealousy? Should Harry point out that he found it totally endearing? Or should he not bring it up at all? He knows that if they don't talk about it now and clear up any suspicions then Niall might confront Louis about it later on, and that's also something Harry really doesn't want to happen. He's still overthinking everything when Louis reaches out and taps lightly on his bare ankle (he's been wearing basketball shorts to bed so he's able to sleep with as many blankets as he wants without getting too hot).

"What's going through your head little bird?"

"I want to cuddle," Harry blurts at last.

There, he said it. He said the more important thing running through his head because dammit he really does want to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wants to get a full night's sleep without waking up in the middle of the night halfway through a panic attack. With the stress all the boys are currently under (writing another album, starting yet another tour, and then there's the issue with all the beards still hanging on their arms in public), Harry's been one of the boys taking it the worst. Hence why he really just needs to sleep or hear Louis' voice in his ear, telling him everything's going to be alright, that they're strong enough to make it through any of the shit thrown at them.

"But Harry I'm tired and if you're saying you want to talk-"

Harry rushes to cut Louis off, excitement and relief building, "No!" He nearly slaps his hand over his mouth at the whisper-yell before remembering that the boys are not Gemma, they aren't light sleepers at all. "I just want to sleep, Lou... Please?" he pouts and widens his eyes a bit even though he knows Louis can't actually see him that well.

A bit of shuffling later, Louis is pushing his blankets back, "Grab your pillow and get in."

"I don't need it," Harry beams.

He manages to get himself on Louis' bunk without disturbing Liam in the bunk below him; Louis is laying on his back by the time Harry closes the tiny bunk curtain behind him. It's not privacy in the least, but it's what they get until they can go home again. Louis immediately starts drawing patterns across Harry's bare arm as soon as Harry rests his head comfortably on his boyfriend's chest; he tugs the blankets back up and over them.

"Thank you," the younger murmurs, making himself comfortable with one leg hanging out of the bunk, dangling near Liam's head probably.

"Shut up, twit. You know you can join me any time. You didn't have to wake me up."

"I love you, too."

Louis laughs quietly, tiredly, "I'm glad you know because I'm too tired to admit it."