Harry walks (sprints) home with a jump in his step because holy shit what was that? He isn’t experienced with anything outside of how to make his father hate him in 18 years or less, but something about his encounter with Louis just made his heart race and blood stir and all that over the top Ryan Gosling movie type stuff.
He gets home a lot faster than he normally does just because his excitement is propelling him forward. He needs to get home to tell Liam because if he doesn’t he’s going to end up hugging someone on the street and getting arrested for sexual harassment or punched in the face in the true New York fashion.
He slams through the door and Liam jumps out of his chair.
“OHMYGOD!” Liam yells, startled by the sudden interruption. Upon sight of Harry his shoulders relax and he runs a palm over his face. “Oh. It’s you. Are you out of your mind?!”
“Liam, I met someone.”
“I hope it was Obama because I almost punched you in the face and to be honest I’m still quite tempted to.”
“His name is Louis”
Liam glares at the younger boy, “so not the President.”
“No.”
“You’re an arse. I’m trying to study, why would you barge through the door like that?”
“Liam, you’re being inconsiderate. I’m genuinely excited here,” Harry whines.
Liam pulls a face and walks back to the table resting a hand on it. “Brilliant.I’m being inconsiderate.”
“LIAMMM”
“Harry.”
“Liam, I think this is along the lines of something stupid, like destiny or fate or true love or soulmates.”
Liam sighs because discussions like these with Harry typically proceed this way for most people. It must be the tone of his voice when he gets to whining that makes people listen.
“What is it then? Get on with it.”
“I met someone.”
“You met someone?”
“Yes Liam, I met someone.”
“Who?”
“His name is Louis.”
“How?”
“He hit me in the head with the ball.”
“Why?”
“He’s the overzealous type.”
“Do you even know if he’s gay?”
Harry stills, excitement dying a little bit as he realizes he hadn’t even asked; he had just assumed.
“Well, he agreed to go to the bar with me.”
Liam smiles affectionately, “yeah? Well something tells me it wasn’t as simple as just extending an invitation.”
“Liam, stop giving me such a hard time and just be happy for me.”
“I never said I wasn’t happy for you! You just have this thing where you seem creepily obsessed with this lad you just met.”
“Hey! I’m not obsessed with the lad.”
“Whatever you say, mate.”
“Liam! You don’t even know him!”
“And you do?”
“I know a bit?”
“You know nothing”
