They call us Larry Stylinson (Larry One Shots - book 2)

The Thunder Can't Get Us Now

From: http://luxurycruisinglarry.tumblr.com/post/52640842113/the-thunder-cant-get-us-now

~~~~~~

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none.

Word Count:+3k   Summary: The one where Louis and Harry live in Paris, Louis is afraid of thunderstorms, and Harry knows how to make it all okay.

A/N (from the author): Okay so I don’t even know where this came from. I was up late last night sobbing at 3 am so that might have something to do with it. If you want to get the full feel of this one-shot, you can listen to the video aside as you read. Hope you like it :)

-

The thing about living with your extremely lanky and knobby-kneed boyfriend in Paris is that you always wake up to the splash of rain and an elbow buried in your ribcage. Louis grunted, cracking an eye open to peer over at the sleeping figure wrapped around his body and snoring softly in his ear. The boy was magical. Lying there and watching the boy breathe evenly, Louis grinned sleepily at the memory of the first time he had laid eyes on him. Harry had been sixteen while Louis had been eighteen, Harry still growing into his body with too big hands and wobbly legs. Louis himself never really had much to grow into all considering he was incredibly too small for his liking. Way back when, him and Harry had been the exact same height and now the younger boy had shot a good head and neck higher than his older partner. Louis didn’t mind it much, not when it meant he could be wrapped in Harry’s warm embrace or he needed someone to reach the top shelf in their closet.   The rain was thrumming melodically outside their slightly agape bedroom window, and Louis groaned softly into Harry’s naked forearm as he realized there would be a puddle collecting on the cold floor because of his mistake of keeping it open. Harry stirred slightly next to him, his body barely twisting enough to jab Louis harder in the ribs and Louis gasped softly at the contact, but was too smitten with the sleeping boy’s soft face to wake him.   “Lou-Lou, if I’m hurting you, you know you can stick a wet finger in my ear and shove me over, yeah?” Harry mumbled sleepily with a yawn, the edges of his pink lips curling up into a sleepy grin.   “Oi!” Louis murmured softly, shifting onto his side so he could face Harry and letting the younger boy tighten his strong arms around his boyfriend’s petite frame. And yeah, Louis didn’t mind being small if he could have Harry’s tall as well. “I didn’t want to wake you, love.”   “You’re such a push-over,” Harry murmured quietly, eyes still shut and Louis wriggled out an arm from his hold to run the pad of his index finger lightly over the thin eyelashes that swept over his cheek. “Honestly, Lou, I could shove my knee up your arse and you would sit there quietly and take it.”   Louis laughed softly at that, running his finger over the bridge of Harry’s nose and pressing softly into the indent right above his upper lip, and yeah. Louis had already mapped out every inch of Harry’s body before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like retracing his steps.   “I’m not a push-over,” Louis insisted quietly as Harry hummed lowly as Louis’s finger skid lightly over his Adam’s apple.  “’M just in love is all.”   Harry opened his eyes at that, his soft green-gold eyes wrapping Louis is a blanket of love and warmth and HarryHarryHarry. Harry lifted a thumb, skimming it lightly over one of Louis’s high cheekbones before lower his arm once again and instead pressing it into one of the small dimples in Louis’s back. Louis thought that might be Harry’s favorite spot on his whole body. It was the place Harry pressed in moments like now, with them curled around each other. It was the place Harry always found when guiding Louis down the street to the Market, or when they stood and watched the children splash around the puddle in their uniforms. It was the spot Harry held with a rough sort of tenderness whenever they made love. So, yes, Louis thinks that might be Harry’s favorite spot on his body.   “Mmmm….” Harry murmured after a moment, pressing Louis ever so closer and firmly pressing his lips to his hair. “I love you too,” he mumbled against Louis’s head and Louis sighed happily at that, letting his fingers fasten around Harry’s collarbones and brush lightly over the tips of the sparrows he had inked onto his chest.   “Can you tell which is you?” Harry had asked the day he came home with them on his chest, and Louis had cocked his head to the side and let his eyes trace over the healing prints.   “No, which am I?” Louis had asked and Harry pointed proudly to the one with the shorter wings and murmured, “Because you’re my love and I need to keep you close to my heart.”   “What’s on your mind, Lou-Lou?” Harry murmured quietly into the shell of Louis’s ear, and Louis still shivered slightly at the warmth and tenderness that breath held.   “Nothing,” Louis mumbled back after a moment, nuzzling his head into Harry’s forearm running his lips softly over the skin there.  “Just thinking about you.”   “So I’m nothing?” Harry pouted and Louis pushed his head up slightly, blue eyes level with Harry’s beautiful green expanses.   “Don’t you say that ever again,” Louis whispered at him, a bit fiercer than he had intended to. “You are everything, Harry. Never nothing. Never.”   Harry knew these moments. The moments where Louis still felt the gnawing insecurities he always had before Harry came around. Harry remembered the boy he had first met four years ago with too loud of a laugh and wearing TOMS that he thought were cool then but now realized were hideous. Louis was always outspoken, because if he could out talk the voices thrumming in his head, he could keep one step ahead of them. The monster that chased him. The feeling of nothing. The dull aching thrum of nothing at all. Of being nothing at all. Harry knew Louis wanted to do something big. Harry knew Louis didn’t like feeling like a pawn in a chess match when he could very well be someone higher up, a bishop, a knight or even the king. Louis wanted to be someone who did something and was relevant in the world. But he was relevant. He was relevant in Harry’s world, and that’s all that mattered. Harry had built an entire universe in Louis; Louis was his home. That was terrifying and completely reassuring for Harry all at once.   “Of course,” Harry assured Louis quickly, placing a kiss on each of Louis’s soft eyelids. “I didn’t mean it, babe, I wasn’t thinking. I know I’m your everything and you you’re my everything. That’s how we work. Two halves of a whole.”   And Harry meant it. Louis used to be all bright colors and obnoxious jokes, trying to hoard as much light as possible to keep the nightmares at bay. But then Harry came, all sunshine and bouncy curls and dimpled smile and the smell of morning rain. Harry had come and been his everlasting light, had scared away Louis’s monsters. Louis still feared they were lurking in the churning shadows, waiting until Louis’s light was gone and then they would pounce again, but Harry wouldn’t let that happen. Because Harry loved Louis, and Louis knew that. Louis knew that Harry liked the smell of his clothes and the way his back tooth was chipped. Louis knew that Harry liked the taste of Louis’s tongue and the feel of his skin. Louis knew that in Harry’s mind, that Louis was the sun. His light. And that was all Louis would ever need to keep the darkness at bay.   Thunder crashed loudly outside, making Louis jolt slightly in Harry’s arms. “Is okay, love,” Harry murmured with a yawn, pressing a warm cheek to the top of Louis’s head as the thunder and rain grew steadily louder. Louis gasped, struggling to push himself out of Harry’s arms. “What’s wrong, baby?” Harry asked quickly, releasing Louis from his hold. Louis immediately felt cold without Harry’s touch and completely naked, although he was actually more clothes than Harry was with a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.   “The window!” Louis exclaimed in explanation, pushing himself off the bed sluggishly and padding over the cold hardwood floor towards the window and quickly latching it shut. There was, like Louis had predicted, a rather decent sized puddle on the ground with water still dripping from the windowpane.   “Doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere today,” Harry commented, his voice stretching and dipping in volume from a yawn he tried to smother with his still too big hands.   “M, that’s okay,” Louis said softly with a sigh. “I like staying home with you. Do you want some coffee, love?” Louis asked as he started from the small bedroom, goose bumps rising on his arms and making the soft hair stand erect.   Suddenly, the rain pelted the roof harder, a deafening CRACK! receding through their small flat and making Louis’s heart shudder in his chest. Louis whimpered slightly, fingers clutching the cool brass doorknob as the goose bumps become more prominent from the mix of cold and fear.   “Babe, get back in bed,” Harry demanded immediately, swiftly pushing the covers off and stretching his long torso that went on for miles. “I’ll make you some tea and I think we have some pastries in the back of the pantry, alright?” When Louis didn’t move, Harry came and wrapped him in a warm hug, allowing Louis to shiver in his arms and exhale loudly against his neck. “I’ll protect you from the storm, alright Lou?”   “Just…” Louis’s voice cracked a bit and he took a shaky breath, resting his chin on Harry’s chest. “Promise you won’t leave?”   Harry’s eyes grew dark, a small frown tugging on the ends of his mouth. “I promise, Lou. Now get back in bed and I’ll be back in a minute.”   You see, when Louis was six his mum and dad got into a fight. A big fight. There was screaming and crying and thunder rattling the foundation of his small home. Louis remembered some of the words he hadn’t understood at the time. Things like ‘affair’ and ‘divorce’. He remembered hiding underneath the small coffee table by the front door where he could see them, tears pouring down his face and small whimpered escaping his lips. He remembered the sound of the thunder and lightning and rain and pelting at his small home, and all at once it was just too much. The ringing and screaming and crashing. And then with a loud clap of thunder, his father was gone, and he left behind a woman with a now bruised cheek and a child with a permanent fear of thunderstorms. And yeah, it might seem a bit silly for a twenty-two year old to fear noise, but Louis couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the noise he was afraid of, it was the things that happened when the noise was there to drown it all out.   When Harry returned with a bag of pastries he had indeed found in the pantry and two mugs, one with coffee sweetened to his liking and one with tea left without anything, Louis was curled back into the comforter and letting the tears rolling from the ends of his eyes.   “No, no,” Harry murmured, setting their breakfast down on the table next to the bed and kicking a blanket over the puddle below the window. Harry lowered himself back onto the bed, pulling Louis close and letting him rest his head against his chest. “We’ll have none of that.” CRACK! and THRUMTHRUMTHRUM went Louis’s heart. Harry cupped Louis’s chin with his hand, tilting his face up so he could kiss the salty tears from his lover’s eyes. Thunder growled lowly outside and Louis bit his lip as Harry handed him the steaming mug and settled the tray between the two.   “Thank you,” Louis sighed, leaning up to press a soft, slow kiss onto Harry’s plush lips. Louis knew he didn’t have to apologize for being scared because Harry wasn’t like that. Harry wasn’t like that at all. “You’re too good for me.”   “Nah,” Harry mumbled with a small smile, taking a bite from a pastry and pressing a quick kiss to Louis’s cold nose, leaving behind a smudge of sticky strawberry. “I would say you’re way too good for me.”   “Twat,” Louis muttered teasingly as he rubbed at his nose with his thumb.   “Only the best for you, Lou,” Harry responded with a grin, and Louis just felt so warm and safe and happy and full and bright. Outside the rain thudded on, pounding against the open umbrellas below and whipping harshly at Harry and Louis’s flat in the wind. Harry and Louis had a very small, one bedroom flat you see with barely enough room to squeeze in a kitchen, bathroom, and living room along with it. That’s why it was one of their favorite things to envision a house together.   “It’ll have three stories,” Harry began as they lay on their backs, melting in each other’s warmth and staring up at the cracked, plaster ceiling.   “With a lot of trees around it and a high, tall fence to keep out prying eyes,” Louis continued as they began to paint the picture in the air around them.   “And it’ll have a huge kitchen, just for me to spoil you in,” Harry added, smiling wide and eyes shining at the thought of it.   Louis hummed in agreement. “And we’ll have a huge game room just for you and all your video games.”   “And it’ll be painted blue,” Harry added but Louis crinkled his nose in disgust, nuzzling his cheek into his boyfriend’s shoulder.   “No, blue’s a cold color,” Louis whined, pinching Harry lightly on the arm. “It’ll be velvet red because that’s warm. Or maybe a sort of dull, soft yellow. Not really the color of mustard but something lighter than honey. Is honey yellow?”   “I think its brown babe…” Harry began, trailing off and then turning to face Louis with his eyebrows knitted together and lips twisted in thought. “Right?”   “Mmm, I don’t care,” Louis finally said after a moment, pulling the comforter together around himself and wrapping an arm around Harry’s, because when you have such a beautiful creature all to yourself how do you not always touch them and hold them and love them? “But it won’t be blue.”   “Whatever you say, your highness,” Harry teased lightly and Louis grinned, squeezing Harry’s arm a bit too hard when thunder rolled over their home. They lay in silence for a moment, just listening to each other breathe and the loud splatter of rain against the window. “Let’s build a fort,” Harry said after a while, and Louis started a bit because he could have sworn the younger boy had fallen back to sleep.   “Alright,” Louis agreed and then they were building a fort.   They went out into the small living room, pushing back the couches and using a blanket to beat at the dust smudges across the hardwood floor and clear it away a bit. They picked up the coffee table and they both grunted as they shoved it out into the hall connecting their bedroom and bathroom to the adjoined kitchen and living room. Harry took four chairs from the storage and placed them in a circle as Louis climbed over the coffee table and back into their bedroom, grabbing blankets and sheets and comforters and pillows. When he got back, Harry had dug out some big clothespins from a drawer in the kitchen and together they set to work pinning the blankets together. Harry stripped the pillows from their couches, and they laughed when Harry found the twenty dollar bill he had accused Niall of stealing the last time their mate had swung by. Harry then vowed to call Niall and say he was sorry, when Louis pointed out that Harry hadn’t spoken to Niall in a year. Harry shrugged and said that there was always a time to renew old friendships, tucking the bill under a coaster on the coffee table. They draped the fastened blankets over the four chairs, using rubber bands to tie them to the tips of the chairs and letting the excess blanket flutter over the chairs and hit the ground on either side. Louis used Harry’s cookbooks to keep the blankets weighted to the ground, checking to make sure the rubber bands were fastened tight enough around the top of the chairs. Harry pushed all the pillows inside, layering the hard ground-CRACK!-and shoving a blanket inside for them to share.   When their fort was finished, they crawled inside, snuggling into the blanket and into each other. Louis loved the feeling of security it all brought him, relished in the warmth and softness of it all. Outside, the thunderstorm raged on but there, inside with his love and buried deep in his fort, the thunder couldn’t get him.   And yeah, Louis liked it a lot.   “Lou?” Harry murmured after a bit, and Louis sighed against his boyfriend’s chest. Just sighed, in content and happiness and love.   “Yes?” Louis asked, glancing up at his beautiful boyfriend who radiated the sun.   “We have been dating for a good four years now, yeah?” Harry asked and Louis nodded, remembering how Harry had taken him to a really fancy restaurant on their anniversary a month ago. Louis had almost had a heart attack at the sight of the bill but Harry didn’t tolerate any of his pleas to pay at least half, or at least give the tip. “Well….Babe, you know how much I love you right? You know how beautiful you are and how happy I am that I puked all over you when I got drunk right?”   Louis laughed slightly, remembering the party and the alcohol and the young boy with too big hands and wobbly legs that couldn’t handle it all. Harry may have not made the best impression, but he had definitely made an unforgettable one. “Yes, I am so happy you puked on me too,” Louis assured him, wrapping a curl around his index finger and tugging it lightly.   “Well…Louis…I love you, okay?” Harry began again, and Louis was used to Harry being sappy-he always writes little notes on Louis’s napkin in his lunch bag when he goes to work, okay, if that’s not sweet enough to get a cavity from Louis doesn’t know what is-but Harry was being really sappy and Louis didn’t know why. “I love how you hate coffee but love the smell,” Harry continued, and Louis was hanging on to every word with rapt attention. “I love how you like to celebrate Cinco De Mayo despite the fact you aren’t in the least bit Mexican and hate all Mexican food besides tacos. I love how for my eighteenth birthday you got me a bunny and we named him Herby and when he died last year you didn’t cry and instead held me as we buried him. I love how when you get back from work you always bring me knew books on poetry and how even though you can’t speak French well you still allow me to ramble on in the language without getting too annoyed. I love that when I got sick on Christmas you stayed home with me puking and coughing instead of going to your mum’s. I love the bright smile you always have that crinkles the edge of your eyes and your loud, contagious laugh. I love you, Louis, and I could never leave you. I don’t want to leave you. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”   And that’s when Harry pulled out the ring, and Louis cried and kissed Harry harder than he ever had before, and spluttered out a ‘Yes! Oh, God, Harry of course yes!” and Harry pushed it onto his finger and Louis cried and spluttered some more, and suddenly the thunder and rain wasn’t as scary as it had been before, because instead of bringing loss it brought the beginning of forever.   And yeah, Louis’s mom cried over the phone the next day when he called and yes Harry’s mom squealed like a fourteen year old girl and of course Louis cried and squealed with them, because how could you not? And of course Harry stood behind his future husband, arm wrapped around his tiny waist as he babbled happily into the phone and admired the ring adorning his finger.   And then, years later, when they had three children, a very nice house, and an oversized monster of a dog named ‘Bear’, and their youngest son, Luke, crawled into their bed because of the pounding thunder that rattled their home, Louis learned what it was like to be Harry. To protect someone you loved from something they feared, and mend it all so they weren’t afraid anymore. But now, Louis wasn’t alone with his monsters. In fact, his monsters were gone. They had left and settled now onto their children, but Louis wasn’t worried. Harry and Louis would be their children’s light.   Together.