"Louis!" Harry yells from the car.
"I'm coming. Relax, H."
"We're late!"
"We're captains! The others will just have to fucking wait."
"We're supposed to be there first!"
"Chill out! I'm coming now." Louis finishes locking the door, hoists his bag up on the shoulder and jogs up to Harry's car. He quickly jumps inside, pushing his bag into the backseat as Harry leaves the curb. "It's not my fucking fault we had to clean up the entire fucking kitchen before the mix got stuck."
"If somebody hadn't decided to make pancakes an hour before we had to leave, which is pretty idiotic in the first place since running with those carbs in your stomach is a fucking hell, we wouldn't have had that problem!"
Louis vehemently turns to face him. "I was making us breakfast, you ingrate! You're the one who spilled the entire mixture over the counter and the floor."
Harry can't say anything to that, so he grits his teeth and scowls out the windshield. "Why were you even making breakfast, anyway?" he grumbles.
They both know Louis is the bowl of cereal breakfast type. But as it was, Louis woke up this morning with Harry plastered to himself. His thigh was tucked in between his, arm wrapped over his torso and nose in his neck. Louis was warm, Harry's hair was disgustingly close to his mouth (not that it didn't smell very nice), and he couldn't really move. So, he sucked a bruise into the junction of Harry's shoulder to wake him up, and then when Harry moaned and rolled over, Louis could escape.
After taking a much-needed shower, he went downstairs. Also, since it's the day before the match, he thought they should be eating properly. Harry likes pancakes. Louis just happened to not realize how late he woke up, and when Harry bundled down the stairs it got quite stressful.
"Was hungry," he shrugs.
The rest of the ride is spent in silence. Louis sighs and leans his forehead against the window.
The previous night after Louis' talk with Zayn, he drove back home, Harry arriving at his house not much later. Louis texted Niall again, requesting they'd meet up after the semi-final, or whenever he has time afterwards. He didn't answer.
They ordered pizzas, watched an old animated movie and Louis contemplated asking Harry to talk. He never got the opportunity to. This morning was a mess and now they're bickering.
It's a fifteen minute ride to the woods they are meant to meet at. They're supposed to be there at one, but by the looks of things they're at least ten minutes late.
They eventually turn onto the dirt road leading up to the meeting point where all the tracks through the woods begin. Louis can see the small meadow, which is more a of a grass lawn with a few benches and a barbecue site than anything else. Harry turns into one of the few parking spots that are left, stopping the car.
They jump out of the vehicle, making their way to the table the rest of the lads have gathered around.
"You can all relax, your beloved captain is here," Louis announces, holding his hands out in a placating manner. The boys weren't even doing anything but talking lowly in groups. They look up, about to greet their powerful leader when Harry brushes past Louis, putting him in the shadow himself.
"Thanks for the introduction, Louis," he says briefly, and then proceeds to climb up on the table that the boys were circled around. Louis squints. "Right, we're all here, yes?"
"Yes, we know how to show up in time for things," Liam says.
Louis swears that if Harry could, he'd totally blame his late arrival on Louis. As it is he can't, and Louis meets Harry's eyes with a smirk. "Snarky doesn't suit you, Lime," he says, and then shuffles onto the table to stand next to Harry.
"Were you riding together?" Lee asks.
"Yes," Louis says curtly. "For captain reasons."
Harry looks down at him, arching a brow. "Any reason you're joining me on the table, dear?"
"For captain reasons...?" Truthfully, he doesn't know. Harry was on the table, so it only felt appropriate that he should to be standing there, too. Otherwise he would be the less powerful and dominant captain.
Harry smiles at him expectantly. "Go on then."
"Right." He clears his throat, clapping his hands together as the team watches on, probably knowing very well that Louis is going to go on a long improvised rant about something random. "Kids, when I was your age, I was—"
"Alright, nicely put, Lou," Harry interrupts, hands clasped behind his back. The team laughs. Louis glares. "What I was going to say was that when you've all run five miles, there will be a surprise waiting for you back here with me and Lucifer."
Louis blinks.
"Surprise?" Liam asks.
"You're not going to run?"
"Lucifer?"
"No, but seriously, are you not going to run with us?"
Louis smiles down at Stan haughtily. "For captain reasons. And Lucifer, H, really?"
Harry grips his neck. "No, we're going to be running the three mile track, then prepare the surprise."
"Alright, let's go," Oli says. "I want my present sooner rather than later."
Louis turns to Harry, looking up at him. "We have presents?" he hisses. Never mind that, he didn't even know they had a surprise to begin with.
Harry ignores him, which makes Louis throw his hands out in exasperation. "Who's ready to run, boys?"
"Yes, let's go!" Oli jumps once, pulling at random limps around him. Louis should promote him to something.
Louis helps him shoo people toward the start of the five mile track, and the boys start jogging down the path. Before Louis can join them, though, Harry stops him.
"You want to talk?" Louis says. "Don't you remember you called me the name of some dude associated with Satan a minute ago?"
Harry cups his face and smiles down at him warmly. "Let's not fight," he says. His nose grazes Louis'. "We'll fix the rest of the mess at home later, alright? And then we cheat and get us ice cream, yes?" His voice is soft. Louis doesn't want to keep bickering either, so he nods quietly.
"Okay," he tries to say, but it comes out slightly muffled since Harry is somewhat pushing in his cheeks. Harry grins and then leaves him to catch up with the team. Louis follows quickly, soon enough reaching Liam and joins him.
They jog in a comfortable pace, Louis and Liam eventually falling behind Harry, Ed and Jonah. Strangely, Louis doesn't find it weird talking to him now that he knows that he knows about him and Harry. Neither of them mention it, only chat about the game and trivial things. Louis wouldn't mind if he said anything, but he doesn't want to be the one to bring it up either.
He watches Harry's back while they jog. Liam talks about the new Marvel movie coming up, and Louis' eyes trail from Harry's shoulder, to the skin of his neck visible above his jacket, to his hidden waist and down his legs. He can still feel Harry's nose brushing against him. If it weren't for their no-proper-sex-before-the-big-match rule, Louis would want him now. Like, right now.
He realizes how much their relationship has changed these last weeks. So quickly after Louis and Niall's fallout Harry showed him support, and they grew tight so fast. Is all this just down of the agreement they've formed? They can't possibly be this close just because they've clinched a deal to be on each other's side? Or?
Harry wraps his arm around Louis' waist, hoisting him to the side and making him squawk. The rest of the boys slow down. "This way, Lewis."
"Thanks, H, I can walk." Louis splutters, stomach swooping even as Harry sets him down. "And a warning would have been nice."
"This is where we part ways, minions," Harry announces to the rest, Louis noting where the path splits in two. "See you back at the meadow."
"You've started talking like Louis." Stan arches a brow.
"Stop copying me, dick," Louis says, joking but mostly to blot out Stan's words.
Harry doesn't answer, simply salutes and starts down the three mile track. Louis nods at the lads and bounds after him, disappearing into the trees.
It takes him a moment to realize that Harry is actually running rather fast, his training jacket in red blurry by the trees farther down the path. Louis kicks up his speed, trying to catch up. The path is tricky, zigzagging between firs and oak trees. He doesn't quite trust the groundwork and eventually he ends up losing sight of Harry completely.
He's starting to sweat pretty heavily after running so fast — which is something they shouldn't be doing because, fuck, this was supposed to be a jog — when the trees start to thin out.
Harry jumps out from a bush in front of him.
Louis screams.
His heart is in his throat and he stumbles backwards, almost falling over a root in the ground. He recognizes Harry's face only half a second later, exhaling in relief. "What the hell are you doing?" he complains, meanwhile Harry cackles like a fucking idiot.
"Your, face," he gasps, clutching his stomach.
"Is this why you were running so bloody fast? This was supposed to be a relaxing jog, you dick."
Harry shakes his head, mouth forming into a solid smile. "No, we had to hurry because the surprise needs to get ready."
Louis makes a face, leaning back against the oak behind him. "What even is the surprise?"
"Got a water hose in the car we can hook to the tap at the side of the little shed back at the site."
Louis lifts his brows, surprised by Harry's mischief. "Ooh, they're not going to be pleased about this." He grins, impressed.
Harry walks up to him, leaving only a foot of distance between their chests. He's still smiling, clearly smug and proud of his plan. He licks his lip, arm coming to rest against the tree trunk above Louis' head. Louis meets his eyes in inquiry, keeping their eyes at level. Harry's just gazing back, the jade in them glistening almost like in a book. He's gorgeous.
Harry leans in lips ghosting over his jawline, nose just barely brushing his cheek. Louis wants him to kiss him, tongue, saliva, teeth clashing — all of it.
Harry hums as Louis holds his breath, feeling Harry move his lips closer. He closes his eyes.
"Was this your plan?" he breathes.
"Yeah. I came up with the surprise as an excuse so I could have you all to myself."
Louis snorts. Kiss me.
He can feel Harry inhale against himself. Here it comes.
He doesn't kiss him. He ducks away, leaving Louis to open his eyes in disappointment. He winks, and then jogs out into the meadow towards his car. Louis wants to groan aloud, sink down to the ground against the tree, and cover his eyes.
He's a hundred percent sure that he's so incredibly, miserably fucked.