This Feels A Lot Like Love

2. Love To Hold You Close

Yesterday seemed distinctively like a dream.

So when Harry woke up slow and steady, ate his bowl of brightly colored fruits and walked the few blocks to school, he didn't really expect a surprise when he opened up his locker this morning.

Two tickets to the next football game. Tonight. There was no note attached to it or anything, just two simple orange tickets in a small envelope. Harry clutched them in his hands, looking around for a secret admirer lingering by and finding no one. He resolutely slammed his locker shut and walked to his first class.

During lunch hour, Harry was pestering Niall about joining him for the game. They were sitting on a far away lunch table, masses of students filing in and out and bumping against each other with stacks of horrendous food. Niall didn't seem to mind, though, considering he was shoving his mouth full of soggy macaroni and cheese.

"C'mon, Ni," Harry whined.

Harry put on his best puppy eyes that got him out of trouble with his mum.

"No," Niall said firmly with a shake of his head, crumbs of bread clustered around his chin and mouth. "I've got finals next week. I have to study and cram."

Harry hummed low in his throat. Harry Styles was many things, but he was not a quitter. Especially when it came to a new, potential romance. He inched closer to Niall, resting his chin atop Niall's bony shoulder.

"Niall," Harry said lowly but surely. "I'll do whatever you want. Please?"

Niall shoved Harry away. He pursued his lips in thought and placed his second sandwich down.

"Alright. But no sexual favors, alright?"

"Ugh, no. Not what I meant, mate," Harry said with a grimace.

"Sneak me in a beer and I'll go."

Harry gaped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his lips forming a perfect ring of circle.

"But how?" Harry asked, disbelief coloring his eyes a bright green.

Niall shrugged carelessly.

"Dunno, mate."

Niall picked up his sandwich and resumed his slow chews, shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his other cheek. He looked like a chipmunk squirreling away acorns for winter. The resemblance was uncanny.

Harry groaned, his head falling on the table. He could either spend another Friday night alone wallowing in his self-pity or he could rummage through his father's case of beers and steal some where he could possibly get caught and earn himself his first stay-at-home punishment. Stay-at-home punishment it was.

Later, when the afternoon haze was turning into dark with its starry night and brightly lit stars, the wave of yellow refrigerator light washed Harry in a glow of light. Harry rummaged in the back of the refrigerator when his fingers felt the cool condensation of beers. He quickly grabbed two and stuffed it into his backpack. If his father accused him of stealing such possessions, Harry would merely blame it on his Robin's behavior to forget he drank two on his nights of binge drinking a six pack.

On a final note, Harry kissed his mum goodbye on the cheek and headed off. He was close enough to the pitch where he heard cheers, chants, yells and the occasional murmur of defeat when the opposing team scored. He loved the atmosphere of it all.

Harry climbed the steps to the bleachers, his eyes searching for a familiar head of bleached locks. He caught sight of Niall sitting on the very top of the stands, chewing on buttered popcorn. He blew hot air out of his lips and trudged along, plopping himself on the open space next to him.