Play Pretend, Find a Friend? (Larry Stylinson)

15

XV.

Big surprise, Louis froze his ass off at Harry's game. Despite bundling himself in copious layers that included leggings, sweatpants, a long-sleeve shirt, a sweater, a hoodie, and two pairs of fuzzy socks, all beneath his rain jacket and a blanket, he still couldn't feel his fingers or toes halfway through the match. Liam and Zayn were spending the day in the city to explore some different art museums, and Niall was away at a golf tournament in Virginia or somewhere, so Louis sat alone in the bleachers and screamed his head off for Paramount to win.

They did win, in a glorious last minute play. Louis was one of the first people to rush down to the edge of the field, swept up in the good feelings and celebration.

He made eye contact with Harry across the field and smiled wide, waving at him. He wasn't expecting Harry to drop his gear and run to him.

"You won!" Louis cheered as he approached, waving his hands while also being conscious of making sure his blanket didn't fall into the mud. "You played so well!" After a month of watching the games and practices, Louis had acquired a firm grasp on the rules of rugby, and what a good game looked like. What a good player looked like. Harry was one of them.

Harry smiled wide and then swept him up in his arms, off his feet. The world tilted and Louis gasped from surprise, his hands immediately clinging to Harry's shoulders for fear of being dropped. But Harry didn't waver as he held Louis off the ground with one arm around his waist, crushing him in a dramatic, energetic hug. It was too tight to breathe, but Harry's excitement was contagious, making him feel over the moon, so he didn't even mind. Harry finally set him down on the ground again, but they were still so close, and the world was rushing and loud around them.

"Wow, I love the enthus-"

There was no time to even process what was happening. Harry grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him hard.

Louis stared at him with wide eyes, breathless and panting, when he finally pulled away. His heart was beating so fast in his chest and he could feel his face heating up in a bright blush.

Harry's cheeks were ruddy too, from playing a match in the cold and running around and kissing Louis. His eyes were bright, his lips kiss-bitten and shiny with saliva.

"Sorry, satsu, Landon was looking."

"Oh," Louis breathed. He didn't see Landon anywhere. "Good thinking."

"The team is gonna get dinner to celebrate the win. Do you wanna come?"

Louis was still stunned from the passionate way Harry kissed him, and he was still a little dizzy from it if he was being honest, knees threatening to buckle. He struggled to focus on a coherent, logical thought. "I dunno, Harry. Won't it be weird if I go?"

"A lot of the guys are bringing their girlfriends. Besides, I want you there."

"Well, okay, sure." How was he supposed to argue with that?

Louis waited while Harry and his teammates showered and gathered their belongings back in the locker room. They met up thirty minutes later in the parking lot to carpool to the bar. Which was how Louis ended up in the backseat of some random rugby player's car, squeezed between Harry and Landon.

He wasn't even sure how it worked out like that, but here he was. It was unfortunate. He folded his hands in his lap after awkwardly asking Landon to move out of the way so he could click his seatbelt into place. Meanwhile, Harry sat uncharacteristically silent on his other side, glaring out the window.

"Wow, the tension is palpable," the guy who was driving remarked, five silent, stilted minutes into their twenty minute drive.

"Let's just not acknowledge it," Louis suggested. The driver and his girlfriend sitting shotgun both snickered.