Undone, Undress (Larry Stylinson)

sixty

Their stop that night is in Snowshoe, Pennsylvania, a town right off the highway and so small it hardly even exists, swathed in acres of forestland. The only cars they pass on the roads are pickup trucks with racks of shotguns on the back windows, meant for hunting.

Needless to say, they're hopelessly out of place.

It's okay, though, because when they check in at the hotel everyone that greets them cheerfully and wishes them an enjoyable stay. They're just setting their bags down in their room when Harry suggests they go out to dinner.

"Really? Why?"

"For your birthday," Harry explains, looking a little shy. "We should do something nice, to celebrate."

"Oh," Louis breathes, blinking at Harry. He hadn't expected that. "Well..."

"Please, I want to do something special for you."

Louis laughs, unable to contain it. "You already did."

The warm pink blush that coats Harry's cheeks is much more characteristic of the shy person he used to be around Louis, before they really got to know each other. "Shut up," he grumbles, but he doesn't really mean it, eyes flitting away to avoid Louis' in embarrassment.

Deciding to spare him, Louis moves past the topic without dwelling too much, although it does conjure up some pretty nice images in his mind, of Harry on top of him this morning, arching his back and moaning loudly. "Yeah, sure, H, we can go out to dinner. Where do you wanna go?"

As it turns out, while Louis was driving earlier in the day, Harry did some searching on his phone and found a nice restaurant in Snowshoe, Pennsylvania, already planning ahead for this celebratory dinner. He made reservations and everything. He says it isn't the nicest place but there weren't too many options near their current location, so. Louis smiles gently and assures him it'll be lovely no matter what.

It's Harry's idea to get dressed up, so that's what they do. Harry spends his time in the bathroom doing his hair, while Louis digs through his suitcase in search of something nice to wear. He ends up having to settle on his nicest pair of skinny jeans and a soft bluish lavender sweater, but it doesn't look too bad.

He sits on the bed and responds to the text messages piling up on his phone as he waits for Harry to come out from the bathroom. When he does, his breath is momentarily knocked from his lungs as he struggles to breathe. It's embarrassing, but hopefully not noticeable, as he recovers quickly and whistles lowly and appreciatively as a joke at the sight of Harry standing there, even more beautiful than usual.

"Christ, you're gorgeous."

Harry blushes again and this time he shies away from it even more, covering his cheeks with his hands and turning away bashfully. "It's too much, I'm going to change," he mumbles, already shuffling back into the bathroom, but Louis is there in a moment to stop him.

"No, no, you look absolutely amazing, please don't change. I love this," he tells him delicately, letting his fingers fall to the soft, silky fabric of Harry's blouse. It's pale petal pink and shimmery like champagne in the light, with tiny sparkles that catch even the smallest bit of illumination and glimmer accordingly.

Pink is a beautiful color on him because it softens his hard edges, smoothing the furrow in his brow and the crinkle in his nose, the sharp jut of his jaw. It makes him look innocent, and in some ways he always does but Louis knows he isn't quite that, to no fault of his own, really. Harry is someone who swears like a sailor when he's angry or upset, wears lingerie to seduce people, and manipulates roommates into strange sexual agreements. It's best for Louis to remember this.

Still, he looks breathtaking like this, soft and vulnerable in the best way. The vulnerability is intentional perhaps, which takes away the risk of it all, but Louis doesn't mind. Especially when he looks a little closer and realizes Harry is wearing a bit of makeup too, with shimmery eye shadow and pink-tinted lip gloss. Mascara, too, and highlighter on his cheekbones.

"Pretty, pretty," he muses again, kind of lost in it all but trying not to drown. What were they doing, before Harry decided to walk out of the bathroom looking like a strange and beautiful androgynous angel? Oh, right. Dinner. "Ready to go, babe?"

"What, not 'kiddo' today?"

"Nah, not today," Louis mutters, opening the door and shoving Harry outside to the hallway of the hotel. He grabs his wallet and the key to get back into the room before letting it close. "Not when you look this hot."

"So every time you've called me kiddo, you've found me unattractive?"

Louis shakes his head, because Harry is all wrong. "No, I only call you kiddo when you're acting cute."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Don't make it weird."

"You're the one who's calling the person you've been fucking 'kiddo.'"

"I repeat: don't make it weird."

"Just pointing it out."

"Are you forgetting that you call me 'Daddy' during sex?"

Harry just laughs, not having the decency to blush or even pretend to be embarrassed.