"Harry bets Louis that Louis won't do the dishes in the sink by tomorrow morning."
"Louis bets Harry that Harry can't do a cartwheel in the lounge room."
•••
"Harry bets Louis that Louis wouldn't kiss Harry if Harry had asked."
•••
Louis walks up t...
(Imagine the present time as 2015. Where they are right now is not in the past, just pretend it is current time)
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(look how cute and smol and soft)
•••
"Harry," Louis whispers, creeping over to his side of the dorm.
"Hazza," he says, softly getting on his bed and laying next to him, their noses almost touching.
"Hazzy," he rasps out, running his hand up and down Harry's soft cheek. Little tufts of hair poke out from behind his ears. He's been trying to grow it out, and it's just about reaching his shoulders now. Louis thinks it's the most adorable thing in the entire world.
Harry stirs in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words that only Louis can understand. He's known the boy for years. He's used to it.
"Mhm... no - don't... don't take the bunnies. Please. T-they're... pink. No! You can h-ave the pineapple snakes but not... not my bunnies," Harry whispers out. Louis can barely make out what he's saying, but once he does, he throws his head back, muffling his laughter with the sleeve of his sweater. Well, it's not his sweater, per se, it's Harry's. It's his purple sweater that he rarely wears, so Louis took it and wears it all the time.
"Harry," he laughs out, running his hands through his curls.
"Mph... wh-what?" He says, blinking his eyes open. He scans across the ceiling until his eyes meet Louis', blue meeting green.
"Good morning! It's Christmas, Haz!" Louis says, getting up on his knees and jumping on the bed around Harry.
"It is - what? Oh, yeah! It's Christmas!" Harry says, now getting excited as well.
"Come on, come on, come on!" Louis screams, getting out of bed. His sweater rides up a bit, exposing his tight, black briefs.
Harry bites his lip at the sight. "God, Lou. M-my sweater, is it?" He teases.
Louis smirks. "Maybe."
Harry smiles, looking at his best mate's curvy little body. "Well, it looks better on you then it ever did me, so, Merry Christmas, Lou."
Louis' eyes light up. "Thank you, Hazzy! This is the best gift I could have gotten! It has your smell on it, I'm never washing it ever, ever again."
Harry chuckles. "Lou, that's not your actual present, you know."
"Wait, it's not? Oh. Well, thank you!" He says, even happier than before, if possible.
"Well, come on!" The older lad says.
Harry gets up and walks over to his closet, pulling on a sweatshirt and some loose-fitting sweatpants.
"Y'know, Lou, you may want to put on some pants. As much as I don't want you to, I don't think Liam, Niall, Zayn, or Jay or my mum will want to see that," Harry says.
