The Brother I Never Wanted (Larry AU)

Chapter 19

Hi, guys!

I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently! I just went through the most stressful week of my life. I was sick for four days straight with the stomach flu, and of course it started on Monday, so I missed three entire days of school and felt shitty the next two. Then when I came back, of course I had to make up all the work I missed. (Which was like three tests, by the way). And then right after that, I had finals. So, yay. It's been a great few weeks. Oof. Sorry, I'm done ranting. I promise ;)

Enjoy,
- Sparks <3

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Stumbling into the living room after a long, strenuous day of school, he fumbles upon Harry laying on the couch. His legs are tossed up on top of the couch, and his head is hanging upside down, eyes following the movement of the characters on the Telly. He strains to look up at him when he comes in, green glazed in boredom. Is this all he did all day? He knows he's grounded and all, but Louis couldn't sit there and watch television for eight hours straight. "Hey, Louis."

"Hi."

He rolls over onto his stomach, crawling over so he can sit up and face him properly. His fingers rub at his eyes, and he gazes over his footie kit with something that looks very similar to longing. "How was practice?"

"School was great, thanks for asking." Harry rolls his eyes, but he smiles a little bit. "Um, practice was decent, I guess. It's very quiet now that Connor is suspended."

"I'm so bored," he moans. "Come entertain me."

Louis looks at his dirty practice jersey, pulling it out to see a giant grass strain across his stomach. His neck and underarms feel sticky with sweat, and he feels uncomfortable with Harry just looking at him. He feels absolutely repulsing. "Um, can I take a shower first?"

Harry cocks his head, but then his eyes light up, and he jogs out into the garage. Louis huffs in disbelief, running his hand through his sweaty hair. Well, he doesn't have to be rude about it. He enters the kitchen instead, munching on a cookie dough flavored granola bar, not entirely sure where Harry ran off to or if he's expected to wait for him. The garage doesn't hold much except boxes of old stuff and sporting equipment.

After a couple minutes, he hears the door to the garage open up, and he wanders to find him, halting in surprise when he sees him holding an orange football. Harry grins when he sees him, holding it up. "How 'bout a game?"

He feels his muscles already shrieking in protest at the thought of more exercise. His quads feel like jelly, and his calves feel tight. Is more exercise really a good idea? He might re-injure his knee. "Harry, I'm tired. And my knee is killing me."

"I've been stuck inside all day," he groans. "C'mon. I don't want to play by myself. It's no fun. And, besides, who's going to be the goalie?"

Louis takes a deep breath. "Fine, okay. Whatever. Let's go." At least he doesn't have to do much running.

Immediately following the closing of the back door, Harry sprints off away from him, dropping the ball at his feet. He places the bottom of his foot on top, rolling it back and forth eagerly as he wants for Louis to walk stiffly towards the goal. Louis pauses at the small, portable goal that they have set up in the backyard, tugging his tight cleats off and sighing in relief when he feels the cool grass through his socks. He dumps his smelly shin guards in the yard as well, hoping Harry can't actually smell him from where he's standing. He's probably used to the scent, but Louis still finds the thought mortifying because it definitely doesn't smell pleasant.