Take Me Down Slow (Larry Stylinson)

Pressure Points

"Fuck. Those runs today were sick!" Louis shouts over the rumble of the engine as he lays his skis and poles in the back of the overlander with the rest of the gear.

Liam comes up alongside and throws his board in, snow falling onto the waterproof tray and mixing with the slush and ice from all the other equipment. "Thought I was a bloody goner on that last one, nearly took my head off on a low branch."

Louis is sweating under his parker and beanie, but he doesn't want to risk taking it off just yet, he's only just gotten over his cold from last week and he absolutely does not want to get ill again. Not up here. Not when they're having such an amazing time. He'll tough it out and shower when they get back to the chalet. He can already imagine how good the rain shower will feel and a cold beer is definitely calling his name.

Niall unceremoniously dumps his snowboard in with the rest, undoing the straps on his gloves and swinging his backpack around to his front, shoving them in and stomping towards the door and up the steps.

Louis and Liam give each other a smirk and then break out into a cackle. They round the vehicle and jump up into the warm cabin, taking their seats opposite the angry Irishman and trying desperately to contain their glee at his obvious aggravation.

Louis would be genuinely concerned if the situation wasn't quite so amusing. Niall is seething and muttering under his breath as he pulls off his beanie and pushes it angrily inside his bag. One of his gloves falls out and he growls and picks it up, forcing it back in and making the boys splutter our a laugh.

"Awwww, Nialler. What's up, mate?" Louis coos, just to be an annoying little shit.

"Nope! Don't fucking talk to me! I don't wanna hear it," Niall spits out petulantly, holding up his hand. "It'll be just like surfing, they said! You'll love it, they said! Well fuck you all, and the bullshit train you rode in on."

Niall huffs and crosses his arms over his bag, looking out the window and staring at the snow like it's an affront to his very existence. Louis should leave him be. Snowboarding is hard, he knows. He'd tried it a few times himself, but it'd been an unmitigated disaster. Nearly snapped his arm in two on the last attempt and that was enough to convince him to stick with skiing. Two feet, two skis, two poles. Much more sensible.

"Mate. I told you it wasn't easy. Liam here was the one who convinced you." Louis thumbs towards Liam and narrowly evades his swatting hand.

"Oi! It is easy. You're both just uncoordinated losers. Fuck, even Harry can board and he falls over his feet at the best of times. If my little bro can do it, anyone can."

As if summoned by Liam's words, Harry thuds halfway into the truck, knocking the snow off his boots on the bottom step before climbing in and shucking off his jacket, taking the seat next to Niall. Brave man. His curls are peaking out from under his pink woolen beanie, framing his wind-bitten face, and jade green eyes. He's wearing a long white sleeved skivvy, braces holding up his dark blue ski pants. He looks cute. Well, he always looks cute. Louis shakes his head to stop himself from staring and trains his attention back on Niall.

"Don't worry, mate. We'll be back at the chalet soon and you'll have a nice cold beer in your hands before you know it. Anyway, maybe you're more suited to apres ski rather than cutting it up on the slopes. No shame in that."

Harry honks out a laugh and immediately slaps his hands over his mouth, a muffled "Sorry" following.

Niall goes bright red in fury, steam practically coming out of his ears. "How very DARE you!" He screeches and throws his entire backpack at Louis who catches it easily. Niall glares at him while the other three men burst out laughing.