Waifs and Strays [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Oh my, we have to tell Michael that you've arrived," Calum wails dramatically, pulling Niall past me and Liam and towards the beach while Luke jumps up Niall's back to return to the fire by a piggyback ride.

I look at them in slight shock while Liam stands next to me, smiling pleased.

"Don't worry, Harry," he chuckles, "that's their normal state when they're together. I had hoped they could make the leprechaun smile again."

"That's their normal state?" I wonder, trying to imagine them when they're excited.

"Yeah, well. They're kind of in a weird fivesome relationship, the three of them and two other Sharks," Liam says, but suddenly stops to chuckle. "Platonically of course," he corrects himself, "like that bromance kinda thing."

I can't help but look at Liam weird. It never made me angry before - mainly because I never even gave it a thought - but now it bothers me that everybody seems to try and distance themselves from anything slightly gay related. It's probably since I've met Louis and started to have these feelings and... urges... that I've started to realize how inconsiderate and rude it is to always make sure that nobody thinks you're gay.

"Yeah, 'course," I croak and clear my throat quickly.

"Let's go down there, I need some booze right now," Liam pads me on the back and leads me to the camp fire.

As we reach it, I see that the other Sparrows have already sat down around it. Perrie is rolling around the sand in a bunch of squeaking girls that I've never seen and Louis is already sipping away a bottle of beer. Everyone seems to be busy doing their thing so I simply sit down on the next best log, starring into the fire. It doesn't last as long as I thought it would because suddenly somebody sits down next to me with two bottles of beer.

"Hey mate, want one?" he says, holding one out for me to grab it. He's a rather stocky ginger of medium hight with a full sleeve on his arm and a guitar around his shoulder.

"Thanks," I smile at him and take the bottle.

"It's not the greatest - awful actually - but it does its job," he chuckles, clicking his bottle with mine before he takes a sip. "I'm Ed, by the way," he introduces himself.

"Harry," I say, taking a sip on my own bottle. It really is awful, bland and bitter at the same time.

"Harry, nice to meet you, man," Ed smiles, "Thought I'd join you, you looked a little lost."

"Yeah," I smile somewhat embarrassed, "yeah, a lot of new faces. Everyone knows each other. Everyone's excited. Didn't know what to do."

"Don't worry, just do whatever you like, we don't bite," he says, chuckling, "even though we're Sharks."

"Oh my god, you are, aren't you," I laugh. I like his humor. It's simple, like mine.

We sit next to each other, drinking our beer while everyone around is still laughing and shouting. But it's not awkward, it feels relaxing actually.

"I like your sleeve," I say when my eyes land on it again, "did it take long?"

Ed shrugs. "Not too long," he hums, "Little over a year maybe. Once I started, I couldn't stop."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," I chuckle, showing him my arm.

"Oh, you got quite the sleeve, too," Ed says, looking at my tattoos.

"Not really a sleeve, it's just a lot of tattoos on one arm," I smile, "I have more on the rest of my body."

Ed laughs. "The rest of you body, I see," I winks, making me blush slightly.