The Brother I Never Wanted (Larry AU)

Chapter 7

"Damn, Louis. You picked the wrong day to wear your sexy skinny jeans," Niall complains, attempting to tug the material over his large bum. "Seriously, Lou. How'd you even get them on without my help?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Niall. They're not that tight."

Niall looks at him exasperatedly, grunting one last time to yank it up his hips. Louis' still shirtless, and he can see a few scratches along his waistline, cringing when Niall's fingers accidentally brush them. He expected the damage to be worse, but most of it is just small, shallow scrapes on his legs and elbows. It's not like they trampled him with their cleats or anything. He has that much to be grateful for. His bullies could definitely be worse to him.

Shifting on his good leg, his hand latches onto the lockers by the bench he's using for support. He can remember Niall's face when he unveiled his marks though. It was utterly disgusted and appalled. Louis was worried for a second that it was him that he was disgusted by, but then he ran a finger over a small bruise on his hip and clicked his tongue angrily. The Irish boy ranted for a good ten minutes about how despicable they all are. How they need to get a life because it's the fucking twenty-first century. Louis tried to convince him multiple times that he's fine - that bruises will heal and he only has to deal with it for two more weeks. But he could still tell that Niall was pissed off.

When the boy finally did stop talking, Louis found himself thinking about what Niall said about Harry being jealous. It seems utterly ridiculous the more he thinks about it. They've only known each other for like twenty-four hours, and Louis' a complete nerd. If Harry has found anyone in this small town attractive yet, it's not him. And he really doesn't seem like the jealous type.

It apparently takes longer to get him changed than they anticipate because the other players scurry in after practice ends at the same time Niall wrings up the bottom of his shirt and throws it over his head. He feels he should be embarrassed by the fact that Niall is dressing him like a three-year old. He can see their dark shadows pass through the fabric, and it's confirmed that they're judging him hardcore when Niall pulls the collar down to his neck. His best mate's blue eyes flicker over the pink on his cheeks, and then over his shoulder to growl at the people who are looking at them weirdly.

"What are ye looking at? Carry on, would ya? Haven't seen a guy change another guy before?"

Some - the nicer ones - chuckle lightly at the way Louis groans, face flushing. Not everyone on the team is a jerk that treats him roughly. No one really ever gives him a hard time about his sexuality except for some of his teammates. Quite a few of them have actually told him that they respect his leadership as captain, but they do it with secret smiles and hidden pats of encouragement because they don't want to get dragged down the social ladder by befriending him. Everyone else in the school just ignores him. It's nice to know that he's not that hated on the team. That he's actually doing something right as captain.

He doesn't remember exactly when he suddenly became too uncool for everybody - he's guessing somewhere around the time he came out and when he got glasses, but he doesn't necessarily mind not having a lot of friends. If they are worth having as a friend, they wouldn't be so afraid to sacrifice their social life.

Harry's the last one to come in, tugging the collar of his shirt up to wipe over his slick face. He runs a large hand through his curls, smiling as people come up to give him high-fives. They congratulate him like he's already part of the team, but if they watched him perform like Louis did, he can understand why they think he already has the position. There's a slight breeze behind him, ruffling his loose, sweaty hair, and Louis hates the way his heart speeds up.

Of course Harry has to come in at the most awkward time - when Niall is threading his arms through the sleeves and jerking the hem of his shirt down. Louis really could've probably done that himself.