Summary: Harry makes a terrible mistake that could ruin his friendship with Louis forever.

A/N: This is my first published Larry Stylinson fic. It is a oneshot, based off the song Drunk by Ed Sheeran. I have written other fiction before, but have not made anything public until now. Please comment or send me an ask, it would mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy.

I wanna be drunk when I wake up,

On the right side of the wrong bed,

And every excuse I made up,

Tell you the truth I hate,

What didn't kill me, it never made me stronger at all,

Love will scar your makeup lip sticks to me,

So now I'll maybe lean back there

I'm sat here, wishing I was sober,

I know i'll never hold you like I used to

But our house gets cold when you cut the heating,

Without you to hold i'll be freezing,

Can't rely on my heart to beat it

Cause you take part of it every evening,

Take words out of my mouth just from breathing,

Replace with phrases like 'when you leaving me?'

Should I, Should I,

Maybe I'll get drunk, again

I'll be drunk, again, I'll be drunk, again

To feel a little love.

I wanna hold your heart in both hands,

Now I'll watch you fizzle at the bottom of a coke can,

And i've got no plans for the weekend,

So should we speak then? Keep it between friends?

Though I know you'll never love me, like you used to

There may be other people like us,

Will see the flicker of the clipper when they light our,

Flames just create us, burns dont heal like before

You dont hold me anymore

On cold days Coldplay's out like the band's name

I know i cant heal things with a handshake

You know i can change, as I began saying

You cut me wide open like a landscape

Open bottles of beer but never champagne

To applaud you with the sound that my hands make

Should I? Should I?

Maybe I'll get drunk, again

I'll be drunk, again

I'll be drunk, again

To feel a little love

All by myself

I'm here again

All by myself

You know I'll never change

All by myself

All by myself

I'm just drunk, again x4

I'll be drunk, again

I'll be drunk, again

To feel a little love

Harry was a fucking idiot. He had never done anything more stupid in his entire life, and now he had lost everything. His best friend, and possibly the band. Gone. With one stupid, stupid

Harry down another shot, then motioned for the bartender to hand him another one. He had royally fucked up this time. There was no way things could go back to normal after this. Louis was his best friend, his entire world really. Harry told Louis everything. They spent all of their free time together, either out clubbing or cuddling on the couch in front of a movie. And then, Harry had to go and…

He downed two more shots, then sat back waiting for more. He had kissed Louis. With that one fucking kiss, Harry had probably wrecked everything. Louis would never look at him the same again. Harry would have like to admit to himself that it didn't mean anything, that it was just an idiotic spur-of-the-moment thing, but it wasn't.

He took another shot. He was in love with Louis. Things had been fine the way they were, Harry watching from a distance. Sure, it was utter hell watching the man he loved fall in love with Eleanor, but Harry was happy if Louis was happy. But Louis wasn't happy, not after that stunt he had just pulled. He just stood there, shocked and speechless, with his mouth hanging open. That was the worst part, the silence. Harry was expecting the worst, a slap or some yelling. But none had come, and Harry had run as fast as he could from the problem.

He downed two more glasses. He should have left things the way they were. He should have stayed the loving, supportive friend. At least then, he had been close to Louis. Now he would be lucky if Louis ever spoke to him again, let alone hold him on the couch and laugh like they used to. And Louis certainly wouldn't love him anymore, even as a best friend. Harry was fucked.

As he choked down another three shots, he wondered when Louis would be gone. Would he have packed up and left before Harry returned, or would he wait it out for a few more awkward days? Harry was now of legal age to live alone, so there was no reason for Louis to stay. It was a wonder he had stayed for as long as he had anyway.

He managed to get in four more shots before the room started spinning and his throat went numb. He lost track of the drinks after that, until the bartender finally cut him off, took his keys, called a cab, and kicked him out.

When Harry stumbled in the flat half an hour later, he was completely knackered.

"Harry!" Louis exclaimed from the couch, where he was obviously waiting up. Fuck. Louis was mad. Harry braced himself for the yelling.

"You're not supposed to drink!" That wasn't what he was expecting. He blinked, stumbled a little, and half-heartedly mumbled "I know."

"Your medicine- your kidney- Harry you could have seriously hurt yourself!" Harry's vision blurred.

"Look," he slurred, wobbling. "Can we just forget about this whole mess?"

"Harry…"

"No, it was a mistake, I know. I'll never do it again, I'm sorry. Let's just forget it. Please, Lou. I'm begging."

"A mistake?" For some absurd reason Harry couldn't place with his drunken brain, Louis looked absolutely shattered. "You think that kiss was just a mistake?"

"Of course not!" The words tumbled from Harry's mouth before his brain could work fast enough to stop them. "I'm fucking in love with you!"

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth quickly, but it was too late. The words could be unsaid. There was no way in hell they could just forget about it now.

"Fuck." Harry slurred before throwing up all over the rug.

"You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." Louis decided, helping Harry to bed.


Harry was awoken rudely the next morning by the covers being thrown off his naked body. He shivered in the cold; he must have taken his clothes off by himself sometime during the night.

"I've made breakfast. How do you feel?" Louis asked, throwing him a pair of boxers.

"Fine actually," Harry said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"You're still drunk aren't you?"

"I have bad kidneys."

"Well I guess you won't have a hangover then, lucky bastard."

Harry got out of bed, staring at Louis warily. He remembered every painful detail of the night he wished so badly to forget.

"So was it true, what you said?" Louis never was one for beating around the bush.

"What?" Harry tried to avoid the question.

"That the kiss was a mistake."

"Yea, it was." Harry lied.

Louis saw straight through him. "Don't you lie to me, Harold Edward Styles. Are you in love with me or not?"

"Yea…" Harry mumbled sheepishly. "I am."

"Good," Louis smiled. "Because I'm in love with you too."

And that was that.