Bloodsport

chapter 60

He missed him. He needed him.

He drove over to Sainsbury’s, the big one not too far from the school. Buying a six-pack of beer, he ended up in a long queue. He stood there, eyes flashing out over the pharmaceuticals. He’d been in the same spot more than six months ago, then buying lube and condoms, unbeknownst to the fact that he’d be using them that very same day. Jesus. If he’d only known how crazy the next few months of his life would get because of it. He had no clue if it was the best weird decision he’d ever made, or the worst.

He bought the beer, got into his Rover again, and drove the ten minutes to Liam’s house in complete silence. Even if the radio had been on, he wouldn’t have registered the noise. He was thinking about Louis. About his mouth on his, the feeling of him against himself from just an hour ago.

One thing was apparent: Louis had no clue what happened that semi-final, either. But he also didn’t know that Harry had gotten into Manchester and potentially ruined his life.

He didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to have to live in a world where Louis hated him forever.

But how could Harry fix all this if Louis didn’t know the truth? How could they have a real relationship if they weren’t honest with each other? He had to tell him. Louis would find out sooner or later, and Harry had to be the one to let him know.

It was a problem for the next couple of days, he decided. Tonight, he needed a break. Everything-all-the-time.

He parked the car and strode into the house. It seemed plenty of the boys had already arrived, judging by the mess of shoes inside the door. He slid his own off and began to make his way to the living room. By then, he knew Liam’s house well enough, and it took only a minute until he was peeking into the living room, finding his mates crowding around the coffee table in the living room. He saw Zayn in the armchair, and Louis’ friend Niall on the floor.

Harry held up the beer. “Brought some — oh.”

He should have understood. Niall was there, and it was Liam’s place after all. He was friends with Louis. So, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he found Louis sitting in the middle of all the people on the sofa, right on Liam’s lap.

At first, the anger drilled a hole into his stomach. He got angry at Louis, but also at Liam. Why would he let Louis sit in his lap? Why did he have to sit there? Why not get an extra chair? Fuck. Louis wasn’t supposed to sit on another guy’s lap, he was supposed to be in Harry’s arms. What the hell.

Louis visibly stiffened at the sight of him, but Harry moved his eyes off of him instantly. However, the immediate anger seemed to run off him as he processed Louis’ face in his mind. He was pretty as per usual, but his eyebrows had turned down in concern, posture suddenly awkward.

Harry kept his eyes downcast, getting seated on the other side of the coffee table. There was music coming from the speakers by the telly, and there were already beer cans and crisps spread between them. The other lads greeted him in cheers, and he smiled tightly at them. He wanted to go home.

He tried to ignore the way Liam’s arm wrapped around Louis, but inside, it felt like he was falling to pieces. He willed himself to remember Liam’s words about how Louis loved him. It was too hard.

Not Liam’s fault, not Liam’s fault, not Liam’s fault. He was overreacting, overreacting, overreacting.

They were friends. And Louis was tactile with his friends, clearly. And that shit Harry had pulled at the fro-yo shop was embarrassing. Stupid. Fucking hell, it’d been messed up. And that wasn’t the kind of person he was! Threaten to hurt someone? No. No, no, no. He couldn’t behave like that. It was horrible.