COLOR || Larry Stylinson

Pink

Chapter notes: A reference (kind of) to The Fault in Our Stars in this chapter!! See if you can spot it – it's actually not that hard to find. Should be easy, really. Anyway. Continue. :)

When Louis walks into Room 15, his third day of therapy with Harry, he expected to be greeted with a 'hey there' or a 'Hello, Lou Will', or something along those lines.

But certainly not with a "What's your sexuality?"

Louis stands there, stunned for a few moments before dropping his bags. "What?" he goggles.

"What's your sexuality?" Harry repeats, sounding a little more insistent this time.

"Why do you need to know?" Louis asks with a suspicious brow, drawing that same chair and sitting it next to Harry, who, by god, is sitting in that damn plaid chair again. Maybe Louis should inform him that it's ugly –but he fears it'd break Harry's heart.

"Well," Harry says bluntly, those metallic green eyes staring intently in the distance, "you're nice. And funny. And I'd like to go on a date with you sometime."

Louis gapes, probably for far too long – he has to pick up his jaw, literally – and sits down in the chair. "Curly Styles! I could be a goddamn pedophile for all you know, and you want to go on a date with me?"

Harry nods, a little confused. "Yes. Looks aren't everything, you know, Lou Will," he says with a playful scowl. And Louis giggles because that nickname really is fucking cute.

"Yeah, yeah, but – aren't you, like, worried? That I could like kill you or something?"

Harry waves away Louis's suggestion. "Nonsense! Besides, I know you're beautiful."

Louis blushes (another thanks sent to the Heavens) and tries to play cool, but he knows he probably sounds like a bashful thirteen year old girl. "How?"

Harry beams. "Well, first of all, Maisie told me that you're hot. I've known her for quite a while, I think I trust her judgement." Louis laughs. "And second. I can just, tell by your voice, you know?  And the way you describe color. And the way you laugh at things, and the way you're so nice and you're not awkward about me being blind." Harry flushes red, embarrassed at how much he's said, and it just touches Louis that much more.

"Aw, thank you, Curly," he says, genuinely.

"Anyway, back to the question." Harry urges, twiddling his thumbs.

"Harry," Louis says, punching him as lightly as he can manage in the arm, "I would love to go on a date with you. I think that answers your question."

And Harry positively beams at that, clapping his hands like a delighted seal and smile never fading. "Excellent. I'll arrange for you to pick me up on Saturday, and we can spend the whole day together – oh, this will be so great-"

"Whoah, whoah, slow down there," Louis grins. "We haven't even discussed the color for today!"

Harry stops – mid-chatter – and actually smiles like the Joker. (It's partly scary, partly endearing.) "Pink. Tell me about pink?"

Louis groans and puts his fists on his hips defiantly. "Pink? Seriously, Curly?"

Harry shrugs, gives Louis a small smirk, and leans back into the chair. Louis sighs.

"Well, pink is uh – pink is usually labeled as a girl color, but I think it could be for boys too. Pink is the color of flamingoes, and uh – it's the color of lippy too. It's also part of the sunset, that part that complements the orange just as the suns going down and it tinges the grass. Pink's also the color of poodles. Those fancy, ugly poodles.  There's pink lemonade too, which is even more disgusting then lemonade. Pink is the inside of a watermelon, the yummy part that's really watery and drips down your chin. Pink is lips too, pink is the color of your lips, pink is the color of my lips –"

Louis is interrupted (rudely, he might add, but no matter because it's Harry) by Harry staring intently in his direction, clearing his throat. "Louis?" he asks shyly, cheeks dusted in pink. "Can you kiss me?"

And Louis is, quite literally, breathless, trying to make sense of the words Harry just said. "K-kiss y-you?"

And Harry is stuttering awkwardly, cheeks absolutely flushed now as he tries to take it back. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I just – I should think that your lips are as heavenly as the voice they belong to."

And now Louis is stuttering, because hot damn, is this kid a poet? That sure seemed like poetry.  "Well, Curly," he says, trying to sound calm and collected but probably sounding like a wanker, "I'd be honored for your kiss."

Harry giggles, and Louis is leaning in, his heart beating in his throat, and he sends a speedy silent prayer to the Heavens. Please don't fuck this up, please don't fuck this up, please don't fuck this up –

And, well. Louis decides that for the rest of his life, he doesn't want to kiss anyone else.

It's perfect, literally, with Louis leaning in and nudging his lips against Harry's lips. Harry doesn't respond at first – because, duh – but as soon as he feels Louis on him he moves against him softly, creating colorful sparks and electric tingles. Louis rests his hands lightly on Harry's shoulders, trying to be subtle while pulling Harry closer to him. Louis is leaning forward, softly scraping his chin against Harry's, and it doesn't feel like he's kissing a boy at all, really. A god, maybe? And it's all just so wonderful and happy and light and soft and Louis doesn't ever want to stop –

And of course, Maisie walks in.

She wolf-whistles, her Manchester accent cheering the two of them on. "Whoo, whoo, let's get some!" she says, almost proudly, while setting the tray of medications next to Harry's bed. "See, Harry? I told you he liked you."

Louis pulls away mildly, blushing ruby red while wiping his lips. And Harry sits across from him, smiling like an absolute buffoon.

"Well, I uh, I guess I better go," Louis says awkwardly, slowly getting up and gathering his things. Harry is humming some stupid happy tune, and he reaches for Louis's arm and when he finds it, he grips it tightly.

"Oh, I forgot to ask you – how do you like your nickname, Lou Will?"

Louis smiles, resting his hand against Harry's, and coos (like a fucking baby, oh, he'll have to complain about all of this to Beau later). "I love it."

And at that, Harry beams, releasing Louis's hand with a satisfied grin. "Excellent. Until next time, Lou Will."

When Louis gets home, he literally jumps (probably like 10 feet, but he doesn't want to be a show off) for joy, screaming and hooting and shaking Beau in excitement. She bites him and throws herself to the ground, but Louis isn't even paying attention because he and Harry fucking kissed. And Harry asked him on a date.

Ecstatic, Louis quickly finds his mobile and opens it up, punching Harry a quick text.

"Pink is definitely the color of your lips, Curly. How did you taste so sweet? You didn't use lippy, did you?"

And about five minutes later, he gets a reply that sends him soaring over the moon.

"Lippy? Oh please. And just in case you're wondering, I was right. Your lips are as heavenly, if not more, than your voice. goodnight lou will x"

~

Chapter end notes: Did you catch it? TFIOS? It was the whole 'beautiful' part. And eh, that wasn't even really a TFIOS reference, and I probably need to just shut up now.

And thank you everyone, again! I love you all *mwah*!