The College Experience [Larry Stylinson boyxboy]

Chapter One

Harry clutched onto the handle of his overstuffed duffel bag, murmuring thanks to the cab driver as he paid him in a mix of crumpled bills and jingling pocket change.

Harry set his guitar case down on the pavement and adjusted the strap on his brown leather backpack as the cab pulled away. He couldn't carry his duffel bag, guitar case and decipher a campus map at the same time- Harry was too miserable at directions to try and get anywhere without a map. A bottle clinked audibly in his suitcase as he set it down. 

"Preston Hall," he said under his breath, trailing a long finger across the map in an attempt to locate it. Judging by the map, it should be... to his left? 

Harry sighed and crumpled the map back into his pocket- a near impossible fit with the skinny jeans he had on that day- and headed toward the nearest building on his left. 

As soon as he made his way around to the front of the building, he was attacked by a swarm of people in neon shirts, chanting things about Preston Hall. 

Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing. 

One of the neon-clad girls rushed up with a clipboard. "Name?" she asked, brightly. 

"Um, Harry Styles," Harry said, peering over at the list, trying to see if they had anything written about him next to his name. Perhaps: Harry Styles... likes long walks in the rain and grey kittens. Sometimes sings the Lion King in the shower.  

"Styles... Styles... seventh floor!" she beamed, and the people around her cheered. 

Harry probably shouldn't have skipped out on his morning coffee today, he wasn't awake enough to deal with this level of pep. The only way she could be more enthusiastic would be with a set of pom-poms

"So if you could just follow him up to your floor-" the girl was explaining. 

"What was that?" Harry asked, realizing he must have dazed off while she was talking. Maybe he shouldn't be signed up for so many three hour lectures if he couldn't focus on a one minute conversation. 

"Your Residence Adviser- RA- is Louis Tomlinson?" she said, confirming he was listening this time. "If you just follow him, he'll help you get settled into your room." 

"Okay, which one's Lou-" Harry stopped when it felt like the air had been sucked sharply from his lungs. 

Jesus. 

"Can I grab that for you?" Louis asked, reaching his hand out for Harry's suitcase. 

"Yeah, that'd be great thank you," Harry said, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks already, knowing he'd been looking a little too long. 

It's not like he could be blamed though. Louis Tomlinson was... he was something else. Curvy but strong, smaller than Harry but with a glint in his blue eyes that made Harry instantly feel like he was melting, and with a stubble on his sharp jawline that Harry bet would tickle if he kissed you. 

Not that Harry was thinking about that. 

"Is this everything?" Louis asked, shaking Harry out of his thoughts. He was holding up Harry's massive suitcase with ease.  

"Mhm, that's everything," Harry nodded, and followed Louis into the building, and into the elevator. He was mentally kicking himself for how boring he'd come across so far. One cute guy and you forget basic conversation skills... great first impression, Styles. 

The two were in the elevator together now, and it was tiny and cramped and Harry was too aware of that. 

"So I'm Louis," the older boy smiled. "It's nice to meet you." 

"I'm Harry," he replied. "I'd shake your hand, but you're holding all my possessions at the moment so..." 

"We can hug it out later," Louis laughed. 

Harry's ears perked up at the sound of that. 

"What's your major?" Louis asked. 

Harry could already sense that he'd be asked that daily for the first few weeks. "Psychology, concentrating in social work. How about you?"

The elevator doors dinged open, and Louis let Harry step out first. 

Louis smiled, and lead Harry down a long hallway. "I'm double majoring in Journalism and English."

"Impressive," Harry said, looking around at the walls as they headed to his room. They were coated in brightly coloured flyers, advertising karaoke nights, tutors, book clubs, poetry readings, football games... "Is there always something going on here?" Harry asked, slowing down to try and catch the information from an open mic flyer. 

"Always," Louis grinned. "You could find at least three different things to do a day here if you wanted." 

"Wow," Harry said. "I don't know if I'm that... spirited." His eyes flickered to Louis' neon yellow 'PRESTON HALL' t-shirt. "No offense," he added hastily. 

Louis laughed, as he wriggled the key into the lock- Harry looked up at the door they'd stopped at. Room 722. "It's not always like this," he said, jiggling the knob before the door creaked open. "Everything calms down after about a week or two, then everyone's just locked away studying all the time. I'll have to get you out to at least one or two of the events though... gotta get the college experience, you know?" They stepped into the room, cement walls painted a milky cream colour with two twin beds and two matching desks. 

"Mhm," Harry agreed. "So living in an authentic jail cell is part of the experience I take it?" 

Louis laughed, and Harry noticed a dimple pop into his cheeks. "You get used to it." 

"Do you actually?" Harry asked. 

"Not at all," Louis laughed. He set Harry's duffel by the bed next to the window. "Guess you get the window side, since you're here first," he smiled, looking over at the second empty bed in the room. "Hope you get on well with your roommate. Don't believe all the awful college stories- most roommates are great... and if they're not, that's what I'm here for."

Harry took a deep breath, he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. He'd always had sensory issues- everything was just brighter and louder and more intense to him, and it made new situations seem overbearing. He sat down on the bare mattress, reminding himself over and over, first day of college is not the time for a panic attack. 

"Here," Louis said, opening the musty blue curtains to let some light into the room. "Let me help you make your bed?" 

Harry nodded, and unzipped his duffel, rooting through for his sheets and pillow, hoping that Louis wouldn't seeing anything embarrassing in his open luggage like his briefs or panties or half empty bottles. 

Harry's sheets were plain grey and worn thin. Louis helped stretch the first sheet over the mattress, and then helped Harry smooth out the thicker blanket on over top. 

When they were finished, Louis sat down on the freshly made bed and hugged Harry's pillow to his chest. Harry took off his boots, and sat down next to Louis. 

"I wish I could just stay up here for a bit." Louis sighed, looking over at Harry, his blue eyes glimmering. "The whole chanting and hundreds of new people is all a bit much, you know?" 

"Oh, trust me, I know," Harry said, twisting his thin leather bracelet around his wrist. 

 "Well, it was nice meeting you, Styles." Louis smiled, and left Harry's pillow on his bed, and dropped his room key on his empty desk. "Don't be a stranger." 

Louis left the room and Harry was entranced as he walked out. No human should look that good from the front and the back. 

Closing his eyes, Harry curled up on his freshly made, slightly lumpy dorm mattress. It didn't feel anything like home yet and he was more than ready to hide out for the rest of the day and nap until he felt less overwhelmed. He just needed a little quiet sometimes. 

His phone blared, and Harry let out a sigh loud enough to make his curls dance a little. 

He answered anyway. 

"Hey, babe!" Harry said, his phone tight to his ear and his arms hugging the pillow that still held Louis' scent. "I miss you too."