Close to Nowhere (Larry Stylinson)

eleven

"We should talk about today."

"We already did." They both had agreed they didn't regret what happened between them. It still didn't make any sense in his mind and he needed more time to figure out what any of this meant. Not that it meant anything.

"No, but like. Are you opposed to it happening again?"

Louis' breath hitched. Oh. He had not been expecting that question.

"Because I'm not," Harry said, and that was brave. Louis would've died before being the first one to say it but here Harry was, admitting he wanted to be intimate with Louis again. He didn't even hesitate or try to make excuses. "I'm not opposed to it."

"Oh." And because it was the truth, and if Harry was going to be open about it then Louis was too, "I'm not, either. Opposed to it, I mean."

He could feel the smirk pressed to his neck. Or maybe it was a genuine smile, he couldn't tell, all he felt was Harry's lips curving upwards. "Alright, good."

"Alright," Louis echoed.

Neither one of them said anything after that, which was fine. Louis focused on staying awake as he listened to Harry's unashamed breathing in his ear. He tried not to freak out about the physical closeness. Or what happened earlier. Or anything at all, really.

It was difficult to stay awake, though. There was a warm body pressed up against his own, strong arms wrapped around his torso. Despite what he would say if anyone asked, he felt comfortable and safe. He yawned a few times and tried to keep it together, feeling his eyelids drooping but not letting them close. Each blink became longer and longer, and it felt nice to rest his eyes shut but he knew he would fall asleep if he did that so he grasped awakeness with valiance and didn't give in to the urge.

It didn't take long for Harry to fall asleep. He snored obnoxiously, because of course he did.

They were still in the same position as before and it would be a bit of a struggle to escape. Louis grimaced at the way he was caged in against the wall. He would have to climb over Harry to get out of bed.

Just to make sure he was really asleep and going to stay asleep, Louis poked him in the stomach a few times, just to test how much room he had to move. When nothing happened, he began working on slowly prying Harry's arm from around his torso. It was a heavy, dead weight.

"God, what the fuck," Louis grumbled, struggling to raise his arm. Harry shifted slightly but didn't wake, instead tightening his leg over Louis' thigh, which was a problem.

After an obscene amount of wriggling to get out of his hold, Louis finally escaped for the most part and rested against the wall, out of breath from stress. Harry was still very much asleep and he looked kind of funny like this. Softer than usual. The stern lines of his face were relaxed and he looked peaceful and younger, which was a cliche but it was true.

Louis didn't really waste any time admiring him, or at least that's what he told himself because staring at someone's face while they were sleeping was creepy and weird. But then Harry shifted again and he had a slight grimace on his face and Louis panicked because if Harry woke up, he would have to restart the process from the beginning.

Thinking fast, he shoved a pillow between Harry's arms. Surprisingly he accepted it, pulling it to his chest like he had just been holding Louis. He made a noise that was a cross between a hum and a sigh, snuffling and rubbing his cheek against the pillow. What the fuck. Louis stared at him, heart racing in his chest, but Harry was still dead asleep. He took the opportunity to clamber over to his body and roll out of bed, landing on the floor.

Bewildered that his plan actually worked, he grabbed the lock-picking knives from Harry's bag and hurried down the hall. He hoped Harry would sleep through the night without knowing he was gone, and as soon as Louis was finished he could slip right back into bed, as if nothing had ever happened.

Smirking to himself, he slid one of the knives into the lock and spent the next two minutes working his magic.

It was a trick Harry had taught him, originally, because Harry was the one who was really good at lock picking. Which was why he was the one with the tools for it. But he thought it was important so he made an effort to teach Louis during one of their monthly dinners. They sat at the kitchen table fiddling with the tools and various locks with which Harry practiced. He taught Louis all of his tricks and even timed him to see how fast he could unlock each one.

Louis twisted the knife just right and the mechanism clicked into place, opening the lock. He exhaled, resting back on his heels and taking a second to regroup and remind himself what he was getting into.

The perpetually locked door at the end of the hall was now unlocked. Obviously it had been inaccessibly for a reason. Louis thought of just last night when he explored the hallways of this house through the other realm and the door creaked open, a flash of dark eyes behind it.

He hesitated, but not because of fear. More than two decades of living as a clairvoyant and there wasn't much that scared him anymore, at least in terms of the paranormal. He had seen so much evil in the world. He had seen it all. He hesitated because it was only then that he heard a voice in his mind that made him stop short.

Stupidly, it was Harry's voice. Just as Louis had his own saying which he clung to like a lifelong, whispering nothing's set in stone to himself at night whenever horrible visions of the future were keeping him awake, Harry had his own axiom by which he lived.

He told it to Louis whenever Louis was being pushy and demanding about wanting to do something, whether that meant accepting a new case or searching the astral plane or anything else that was potentially dangerous. Louis always argued that everything was potentially dangerous and there was no way around that, because it was a fact of life. He could die at any minute from a freak accident or something else. There was no way to prevent it, as much as Harry tried.

And Louis heard it now, in his voice. It wasn't a premonition but maybe something different, a connection between them but he didn't know for sure.

Some doors should never be opened , Harry said, often leaving it at that. But he had shared the full saying with Louis once, a while ago:

"There are some doors that should never be opened. There are some doors which hold secrets which must never be known. That's everything you need to know."

Louis set a hand on the old victorian doorknob, the metal smooth and cool to the touch. Whatever was beyond the worn wood, he could only guess.

As a last reminder, he told himself there was no going back. Once you let spirits into your life there was little you could do to rid yourself of them. Even as a skilled psychic with years of professional experience, he carried within him every spirit he'd ever encountered. Their essences clung to him and refused to leave him alone.

He twisted the knob, and let the door creak open.