~*~ Louis ~*~
Louis takes his time getting back to the room. When he opens the door, he is greeted by a naked Harry standing in middle of the room trying to decide which swim trunks to wear.
“Go with the yellow. Save the white for next time.”
Harry pulls on the yellow trunks and checks himself in the mirror. Louis takes his time getting his trunks and rash guard shirt from the drawer and enters the bathroom to change. Harry’s jaw drops when Louis walks back into the room. "Red trunks? I would have never guessed you for a red kind of person. Black trunks, maybe gray, but definitely not red.”
Louis purses his lips. “Is there something wrong with my swimwear, Harold?”
“No! No, not at all. The tight red trunks look good on you, and the black top accentuates and hugs your curves perfectly. Too perfectly,” Harry grimaces. "My cousins are going to be all over you."
“We’ll see.”
They find Gemma already at the pool pushing three chairs together. Harry grabs towels from the linen hut for them and tosses them onto a nearby table. Once the chairs are set up the way she wants them, Gemma edges over to the deep end of the pool and smoothly dives in.
Harry sticks his tongue out at her when she surfaces. “Show off.”
“I take it you aren’t as graceful,” Louis surmises.
“Shut up,” Harry pouts, dipping his toe into the water to check the temperature. When his foot touches the water, Louis pushes him in. Harry flails his arms, trying to save himself to no avail, and his body submerges into the pool with a splash. He rights himself and pops up from the water with a splutter.
“You’re not supposed to drink the pool water, Harry,” Louis taunts, doubled over in laughter at the sight in front of him.
“That’s not fair. I wasn’t ready.” Louis watches Harry lift himself from the water onto the side, abs flexing. When he stands, Louis tracks the water dripping down his body. He’s in trouble. So very fucking in trouble.
Knowing that Harry fully intends on revenge, Louis sidesteps him and dives flawlessly into the water, finally emerging on the other end of the pool.
“I should have known when I saw the rash guard shirt that you were some kind of dolphin, fish boy, merman, or whatever,” he hears Harry mouthing off before jumping back in.
They are alone in the pool for a while before, as predicted, Harry and Gemma’s cousins join them. “Everyone, this is Tommo,” Harry says by way of introduction.
Only a couple of them meet Louis’ eyes. The rest give Louis a wide berth, obvious in their discomfort. One of the guys suggests a game of chicken fight. Harry sends a questioning look to Louis, and he nods his agreement.
“Do you want to be on top or bottom?” Harry asks.
Louis smirks. Gemma snorts. Harry blushes.
“I think we can kind of share that really,” Louis teases, watching Harry’s face redden further.
“You can be on top. Or bottom. Whichever. I don’t have a preference.”
