Sixteen hours later, Louis wakes up. The room is full if muted light, blinds closed but evening sun peeking through. Harry’s nowhere to be seen, but when Louis pays closer attention, he discovers the bathroom door is shut. That’s probably where Harry is.
Louis doesn’t want to move. While lying still in bed, he remembers that the boy in the bathroom is infatuated with him, nervous, and eager to prove himself. Louis might not have to move.
“Hey, Harry?” he calls.
Almost immediately, the bathroom door opens. Harry comes out, wet hair sticking up in every direction except the way it’s supposed to. He’s just got a thin white shirt on and a loose pair of jogging shorts, and somehow it’s the best he’s ever looked.
“Yeah?” Harry asks eagerly.
“Shower looks good on you,” Louis says without thinking.
Harry blushes deep red. “Oh.”
“I mean. Um. What time is it?”
“About five in the evening. Or afternoon? I’m not sure which it is. When does afternoon stop and evening start?”
Louis sighs, smiling at Harry with his non-squished eye. “Y’know, it’s probably just because I’m hungover, but you’re stupidly cute. Like Bambi, who keeps falling over. Keep this up on our date, angel, very much.”
He’s not making much sense, but Harry grins at him anyways. “You remember.”
“Of course I do, sweetums. A day off and we’re having a night in. I’m gay, you’re bi, we’re trying it out. Anything I’m missing?”
“No,” Harry shakes his head happily. “That’s it. I’m just… I showered too. So. We can get room service for dinner if you want? Or order in.”
Louis considers. “I don’t care,” he decides. “Whatever. You’re the one taking me on this grand adventure of a date. I just have to dress the part.” Louis pulls himself into a sitting position and examines his sleep shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. “Good to go,” he decides.
Harry lets out a laugh, delighted. “Okay. Gimme a minute.” He disappears back into the bathroom.
Louis gets up, stretching up tall and cracking his shoulders and elbows. “I don’t mean it,” he says loudly. “I can dress up if you want. I have shit.”
“Oh, good. You have ‘shit’.”
“Hey!” Louis comes to the bathroom door and leans on the frame. He gives Harry an appraising look. “That was sarcastic,” he says slowly. “I like Date Night Harry. Why aren’t you like this all the time?”
“I dunno. You could just date me more to find out,” Harry smiles.
Louis lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Shit, kid. Ten points, very good. So should I get dressed or what?”
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Harry shrugs. “And you’re kinda doing enough by even trying one night, so. Thanks. And no, don’t. You’re… cute. Do I get to say that? You look really cute.”
Louis’ face feels suddenly warm. “Um. Thanks. I guess that’s fine to say. But this can’t leave this room, alright? I don’t want to get in trouble and lose this job. I’m not a pop star, I really need the money.”
“Oh. Okay,” Harry nods. “Sorry, definitely.”
“Alright. What film?”
“Do you like, um, like romantic comedies?” Harry asks shyly.
“Oh my God.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding me? What, like… Pretty Woman?”
“Well. I was thinking Love, Actually, but-“
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
365 . larry stylinson fanfiction
ФанфікиHarry’s a pop star. Louis is a reporter who hates pop stars. He’s assigned to cover Harry’s band for one year. He has a sneaking suspicion they’re all going to be terrible.
