You're So Square (Baby I Don't Care) larry

yup stoirt

Notes: (by the original author, obviously)For .

I probably could've written another 25k of this verse, but alas, this was a pinch hit so hopefully it will suffice. Please excuse my dodgy knowledge of summer camp/the outdoors. Everything I know about this topic literally comes from Hollywood and google searches. My idea of roughing it is when I have to walk to the next coffee shop because my Starbucks is out of dark roast, but there was no way I could pass this prompt up!

Also, the boys are younger here. Louis' done his first year at uni and Harry is about to start his second year of sixth form (Year 13). It's not explicitly stated, but picture them at 19 and 17, respectively. (If you're American™ or from another country where age of consent is different than the UK, feel free to round-up.)

**Title is from the Elvis Presley song of the same name

T-Minus Twenty-seven

Louis has visited some hell-holes in his life, but Camp Aspire easily ranks top of the list.

First off, he's being held here against his will. Okay, so he's not exactly a prisoner but it's not as if he had any choice either when his dad said he needed to "clean up his act" before shoving camp brochures in his face. He claimed Louis had been hanging with the "wrong crowd" when he made a surprise visit to halls after some admittedly less-than-stellar exam results. His dad made it blatant how he disapproved of his son's smoking, partying, and "frivolous spending" (as if they weren't bloody well-minted).

His dad had put his foot down, demanding Louis learn some responsibility and lead a cleaner, healthier lifestyle. When Louis first glimpsed the brochures, he assumed he was being forced into a wilderness retreat for a week or so, but no, his father wanted him to work at one of these Godforsaken places. Moreover, the pater was cutting him off until further notice so he actually did need the money now.

It didn't take long for him to select and apply to Camp Aspire out of the limited choices because at least it had a creative arts focus. And it was only a month. You could survive anything for a month...or that's what Louis thought before he got here.

Honestly, if he hadn't met Zayn—who was more or less in the same boat—he'd probably have offed himself on the first day. As it is, he's made it to Day Three which means he's made it through two days of mosquitos; lame-ass camp activities; hair-ruining humidity; and whining, spoiled kids (and by the way, just because he was a whining, spoiled kid himself doesn't mean he can tolerate them any better than the next person).

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Zayn laments from the bunk across from him. The other counsellor's already showered and reading their 'morning mail,' and Louis almost doesn't want to know.

"God, what is it now? Is there a bloody nature walk today? Not to sound like the city slicker I am, but I'm up to my teeth in both nature and walks, bro."

"No, I'm switching groups," Zayn reports, and Louis feels an immediate sense of dread in the pit of his empty stomach. "Apparently, visual arts is short-handed since Luke got sent home with poison ivy or summat so they're switching me from performing arts to visual."

"Fuck me." Louis pinches the bridge of his nose; he can't deal with this level of shitdom this early. "You're not moving cabins are you?"

"No, but that means we won't be co-counsellors anymore. I'm gonna be with—" he checks the paper again "—Liam Payne, whoever that is."