Bloodsport

chapter 39

It seemed the longer Louis’ friendship with Niall was iced, the fewer plans he made outside school. After practice, he’d do homework, and more often than not, Harry would invite himself over as soon as possible. Louis looked tired after school, and while Harry was beginning to feel better than he had all year, it pained him to notice the sadness in Louis’ eyes. He attempted to persuade him to tell Niall about them, but it didn’t work. He even tried to give him a blow job to enhance his chances of conviction, but Louis wasn’t having it. And the longer Louis didn’t talk to his friend, the harder it got for him to do it. It wasn’t like Harry couldn’t recognise himself in that. It wasn’t easy telling someone you were gay. Harry had struggled plenty, and who’s to say he’d done it in an appropriate manner anyway?
One night, when Harry was staying at home for the evening, Louis called him. Harry had spent the afternoon after footie practice with Zayn. They’d been in his backyard for an hour, talking as Zayn smoked and Harry did knee exercises on the grass.

“You proper like him, eh?” Zayn had asked. Harry had been interrupted by Liam Payne walking into the backyard, greeting them good-naturedly.

“Like who?” Liam asked, smiling as if it was nothing of great importance.

Harry shrugged, glancing away towards a pair of trees as Liam traded Zayn a couple of rolled-up pound notes for a tiny batch of weed. “Someone,” he said.

“The bloke has a fat crush,” Zayn announced, staring at the sky as he exhaled smoke.

“Cool,” Liam said. Then he’d started rolling a spliff mixed with tobacco, and Harry had rolled his eyes and begun texting Louis.

That night it was difficult to fall asleep. Harry wanted to see Louis, but his mother had been home all evening. It was difficult to sneak in, and Louis didn’t think pretending they were just friends was a good idea. Apparently, his family knew of his hatred for Harry. Harry pretended the words hadn’t stung.

It was early morning when Louis called him. Harry had tossed and turned for hours, getting small batches of sleep here and there, but always seeming to wake up, body searching for the non-existent heat of Louis. It was just a few minutes to five, and Harry grabbed his nearest clothes and brushed his teeth, before jogging through the dark blocks until he reached Louis’ house.

“Why are you up five in the morning?” he asked once Louis opened the door. Louis looked severely sleep-deprived.

“Why are you?” he countered as they walked upstairs, quiet and whispering. Harry couldn’t exactly tell him the truth; he could hardly sleep without Louis anymore.

“Fair,” he said instead, and fell back onto the bed, grabbing Louis’ waist in the go. He’d barely seen him all day (footie didn’t count because he wasn’t allowed to touch Louis at footie). He pushed their lips together, ever in love with the feeling of Louis’ mouth on his. He wanted to be closer, yearned to be near him. Louis was warm, and welcomed his movements, hands squeezing around Harry’s hips as Harry crawled on top of him. His fingers laced through Louis’ fluffed hair. He moved his lips to Louis’ neck and only stopped kissing him for the sake of breathing. Louis smelled… amazing. Like he always did. He never stopped Harry from inhaling every part of his body anymore.

Tonight, though, Louis didn’t seem quite in the mood. His movements were there, hovering, but there was no real fire. Harry didn’t mind it, but he didn’t like the lack of drive in Louis. Harry kissed the underside of Louis’ jaw, fingers touching him gently.

“Maybe you should just talk to him,” Harry murmured. Louis instantly became tense, and Harry feared he might shove him off. He didn’t, but Harry knew Louis’ mind was going in circles. “I know you don’t want to, Lou, but you’re miserable. You’re so sad-angry all the time, babe.”