Can I dip? | Larry Stylinson

T h i r t y - f o u r

"You ready?"

"Yep! Got everything in my list checked." Harry opens his duffel bag once again and checks. "Yep, good to go." He dusts his jeans and puts on his sunglasses that is hung on his shirt's collar. "Ahh, I'm gonna miss LA."

"I'll miss the sun. If I remember correctly, it's always so gloomy there. Rains a lot too." Niall comments, "luckily I have my umbrella."

"Please don't tell me it's not the middle finger umbrella because if it is then—"

"It is."

"Ugh Niall, whatever. I'll call Frank to come pick us up. We'll buy a new umbrella when we arrive and you'll throw that away or you keep it to your own." Niall scrunches his eyebrows.

"Wha—why?" He groans.

"B-beca-what do you mean why? It's inappropriate!"

"Whatever, mom." Niall pouts jokingly. Harry rolls his eyes.

—

"Thanks, Frank! Here are some dollars. Catch a snack on the way home for me." Harry closes the door and waves.

"Thanks, Harry! Au Revoir!"

The white van drives away. Niall breathes in the airport scent. It's been awhile since he's been here. Harry on the other hand has been here back and forth. He basically lives here.He goes with his dad's business trips. He's probably been to half of the countries on earth.

After checking in and going to the immigration. They finally have time on their own for an hour.

Harry casually flips the pages of his passport. He sees all the several stamps from the different countries he's been to.

Niall sips on his soda as he scrolls through his twitter. He laughs from time to time when he sees a funny meme and retweets.

Suddenly, a soccer ball rolls into their sight as it hits Harry's dangling foot.

Niall picks it up and examines it. "Huh, who even plays soccer in the airport."

"Actually, I do and It's called footie in my place and it's mine." A raven haired boy stands in front of him. To be honest, Harry's kinda starstruck. A literal sex god slash vogue model is standing in front of them.

Niall awkwardly gives it back and scratches his neck. "I-uh—sorry, we're from LA. We don't really use the term 'footie' anymore. Uh—here."

"It's fine." The guy takes the ball and goes back to his spot. He continues juggling the ball with his feet. Niall observes the lad, he's quite impressive. He's probably on his way back to the UK considering he's not much of an LA guy based on his vocabulary and his accent.

"The boarding gate for flight SC 569 for United Kingdom, London is now open." Harry and Niall stand up on cue as they carry their baggages. The flight attendant smiles, "boarding pass, sirs?"

She scans it in to the machine and gives it back. "First class is to the right, sir. Thank you very much and enjoy your flight."

"Wow, can't believe you got first class for the both of us."

"Course, it's gonna be a long flight. I want us to be comfortable."

—

"We can actually sleep in these? What the actual fu—"

"Yeah, we can." Harry says from the other pod. Niall struggles to control the television system in front of him. "Har—can you open your pod for a bit? Help me fix this thing. I want to watch shit. I can't tap it."