Undone, Undress (Larry Stylinson)

twenty-five

Movement is what wakes him up.

Squirming, and then thrashing.

As soon as he realizes what's happening, Louis breaks his hold on Harry and pulls his arms away from him, giving him space.

Harry is still asleep, his eyes squeezed shut tightly like he's in pain, and his muscles are taught and tense. He shifts back and forth, fingers splaying and then clenching into fists repeatedly, so much it looks achingly uncomfortable. His legs kicks out and hits Louis in the shin, hard enough to make a bruise. It's unexpected so Louis makes a noise of distress before sitting up.

He needs to wake him. So he starts shaking his shoulder gently like he learned to do after endless nights of helping Harry through his nightmares. It doesn't work this time and Louis gets worried. Harry is still thrashing around and if he doesn't stop soon he's going to hurt himself or Louis.

"Harry, c'mon, wake up," Louis mutters, squeezing his shoulders hard enough to pinch him. That doesn't work in waking him up, but it does make him stop thrashing around so much.

The noises of distress leaving Harry's closed lips turn more into panicked whimpers and Louis holds him tighter now that he isn't kicking so much, because this is something he's more familiar with, something he knows how to help.

"C'mon H, it's alright. Wake up, c'mon..."

He continues moaning through his lips pressed tightly together and he's so tense, jaw clenched so tightly Louis wonders if he's biting his tongue, and then wonders if it hurts, and that makes him upset, so he stops thinking of it and holds him tighter, rocking him like a baby.

It's alright, it's alright, it's alright. Come on Harry, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up...

All at once Harry's body relaxes and Louis breathes a short sigh of relief even though he's startled at how sudden it is. He hugs Harry close and smiles into his neck, finally eased and mollified. When he moves his legs his notices the feeling of something warm and wet but doesn't think much of it, too preoccupied with making sure Harry is okay.

His eyes flutter open slowly and he squints in the early morning light. The sun hasn't risen yet but it's getting closer to breaching the horizon and the room is dark but not colorless. Everything is in shades of indigo.

The moment Harry realizes he isn't alone is marked by the way he turns completely rigid and still, his eyes wide.

"Where am I?" he asks shakily, pulling away just enough that Louis finally realizes what the wetness is.

Harry realizes at the same time because his eyes widen even more and he looks mortified.

"Is that- Did I..."

"Shh, c'mere, it's okay," Louis soothes, and he should be more grossed out but he isn't, really, because he's realizing just now that he cares so much about Harry and would do a lot just for him to be happy, to be safe.

Harry is having none of it. He scrambles out of bed but gets tangled in the sheets which are soaked with urine. He looks panicked and horrified, completely lucid and coherent now which is a great contrast from last night's inebriation and dissociation. Louis is glad he's back to normal, but not glad he's so frightened and unnerved.

"Wh- What happened?" Harry asks, and then he thinks better of it as he flails and tries to get his feet on the floor. "Actually wait please don't tell me, oh my god, fuck, I need to, ugh- I need to kill myself, this is just- Fuck -"

"Don't say that," Louis warns, trying to get a good grip on his wrist to pull him back into bed. Or at least to stop him from running away. "Don't you dare say that."