The Larry Book [ completed ]

i'll breathe your air into my lungs

By : loube ( ao3 )

Summary:

five phases of their relationship in a world where harry smokes a lot and skips school and hates everyone except his boyfriend and louis is in plays and is loved by everyone and they work even though nobody gets how.

Work Text:

"Treat me beneath this clear night sky, and i will lie with you" -where we land

0. the things they say

nobody gets it -how harry and louis work.

they don't get why louis holds harry's hand every day or why harry only ever seems alive when louis' around. they don't understand how harry can disappear for days, but never misses a single one of louis' shows. they don't understand how louis wants harry when he has others, better others, pining after him and praising him, and they don't understand why louis settled. and sometimes harry thinks they're right, but louis will find him, behind the bleachers shaking as he inhales and exhales the drugs louis tells him are no good, and louis will crawl into his arms and he'll kiss him slowly and he'll whisper i love you and harry won't care what they say, even if they're right.

but harry remembers how they became harryandlouis instead of harry and louis, and he thinks, no, they're wrong.

1 . the meet cute

five cigarettes, two hours inhaling fumes in his bedroom and thirty five minutes of stalling in the car (as well as being an hour late). that's what it takes to calm harry's nerves on his first day of high school. he's fourteen, ready to shit himself really. it's not that he's afraid, or really, it's because he is afraid and he's not sure why. he's harry styles, harry fucking styles, and he's hiding in the school restroom, shaking as he stares at his reflection in the mirror.

he sees a catastrophe.

he sees a walking corpse, with dull green eyes and curls that don't do what he wants so he lets them be, swirling wildly on his head akin to medusa. he sees dilated pupils in irises of green and shaking hands, clenched so tightly his knuckles are a shade of white. and he thinks, i'm never going into that fucking classroom. but the restroom door swings open and in comes louis tomlinson with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid wispy hair and his stupid smile and harry's calm. the blue of louis' eyes dissolve the tension in his chest and louis' smile clears the lump in his throat.

"hi, mate," louis says, and harry's a goner.

he's boneless now, all tension gone from his shoulders and his chest and his back and his head and his legs and hands and arms and his mind's a quieter place and the way louis' smiling at him makes him want to smile too, even though he's harry styles and he never smiles. harry looks at louis and he lets his mouth do whatever it wants, lets the corners quirk up into a smile, the muscles in his cheeks feeling foreign and unused to the stretch, but he lets it happen, because he can't really stop it now that it's happening.

"i'm louis," he says and harry finally breathes, lets go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

he licks his lips, green meeting blue, "i'm harry."

louis stumbles toward a urinal, grins at harry as he unzips, "hello harry. you have a good first day?"

one piss later, harry's as smitten as smitten can be. he's pretty sure only twelve year old girls ought to feel bubbly in their chest from the sight of a pretty boy's smile and the sound of his laugh and his voice as he speaks. but he doesn't think he minds, because he's pretty sure this louis guy is his soul mate or something.

"yeah, i," harry pauses, considers lying, then doesn't, "no, not really. i'm a bit nervous. i haven't even been to class."

the sound of urine echoes the restroom, but neither harry nor louis seem to notice that louis' standing there, cock in hand as he pees and harry stands there, watching, "i reckon you'll be fine. your curls will charm the pants off everybody; wish i had something like that -some secret weapon to make people like me."