A staple for the Harry Styles: Live on Tour backstage crew was always the ping pong table. It was an iconic item that symbolized the playfulness amongst the chaos of traveling from place to place, different time zones and the constant yelling to get things done on a due date.
Harry himself had requested at least four separate tables for people to enjoy, but only one was where he frequented at often. It was nothing special, really; just a plain navy blue table with his initials 'H.S' carved on the side. He had done it with his Swiss army knife.
Y/N was scheduled to be visiting the venue today. Harry hadn't seen his precious girlfriend in months and he was quite excited to finally hold her in his arms again after their time apart. Even if she was only visiting for a couple of days, he was going to squeeze out every bit of time with her and lengthen each hour as much as he can, even if it meant clinging by her side every second of the day.
"Hey boss," Clare knocked on Harry's dressing room door, "Someone's here to see you,"
Harry looks up from the video that he was watching on his phone to greet Clare with a nod of his head. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and some black jogging pants for maximum comfort as he still had a little hour to go before he had to change into his fancy suit for the night.
"Who? Send them in," He mumbles lazily, unmotivated to do anything for the day.
"Me, silly!" A familiar voice rings in his ears and his unproductive streak began to change. Seconds after he heard her voice, Y/N peeks out from behind Clare's body with a sling bag resting on her shoulder. She was enthusiastic and full of energy despite probably just getting off of a five-hour flight.
Harry's eyes widened immediately at sight of his girl, using his hands to dig in the couch cushions in order to push himself upright so he could at least meet her halfway the room. "Y/N!"
"Hi, you," She grazes her lips across the skin of his nape. His biceps wrapping around her body to engulf her in a long-awaited hug. "I've missed you,"
"Missed you too, Y/N," He replies, feeling his already relaxed body to fully succumb in the feel of her embrace. Her scent wafting to his nose and calming his tense nerves that he got frequently before performing,
"I'll let you guys catch up," Clare comments, raising a paddle grasped hand to wave them off. She runs to the occupied table where Adam was currently leaning while he went on his phone. The couple watched as Clare approached him and soon got into a very intense game.
"So, you still playing ping pong, bub?" Y/N asks, pulling away from him regardless if her body screamed at close contact.
Harry chuckles at her question, "Of course I am," He walks over to his dresser table and plucks off a trophy from behind the various makeup and hair products scattered on the surface. "Grand champion, see?"
He bestows her a quick glance of the golden man with a paddle, his name scrawled with a messy "Harry" on the name card. Y/N grins at him widely, fondness shining through her eyes even if it was something as minute like this. She was always proud of her man.
"Singer, songwriter, producer, actor," Y/N counts on her fingers as she lists off Harry's titles, "Not only are you a slashy, but you're a ping pong champion too? How did I get so lucky?" She muses with a teasing tone, raising her brow while punching the meat of his shoulder.
He rolls his eyes playfully at her, glancing at the trophy he held. "I'm only lucky because I have you," To which Y/N produces a boisterous laugh. Some crew members even peeked inside the dressing room.
"'Good one, H," She wipes a fake tear to her temple, grasping the small puff of tummy from the painful laughter. "Care to play a game of ping pong with me?"
He snickered in response, adding a little snort as well that made Y/N look at him, surprised. "What's with that noise?"
"Nothing, love," He sits on the spot beside her. "Then what's the matter? Afraid you'll lose?" Y/N teases him, swiping the trophy from his hands and twiddling it between her fingers.
"That's a bit ambitious, don't you think?"
She tilts her head to the side, "I don't think so,"
Harry shifts his body to sit in a more forward manner, trying to appear intimidating with his slit eyes and an empowered purse of his lips. Y/N applauds him for trying but she would describe more of an angry teddy bear.
"Alright then, let's get to it."
Both of them head to the open area where the tables stood. Almost all were being occupied, except, of course, the coveted HS carved table.
"Here's your paddle," Harry says as he reaches out to hand Y/N her weapon. She nods appreciatively.
Y/N fiddles with the white ball in her hand, feeling the smooth plastic running through her palm. On her right hand, she grasps the textured handle of the paddle, feeling her sweat expand through the heat.
She takes a wide breath, watching her boyfriend pose in a cocky stance-as if he'd rather be picking underneath his fingernails than play ball with her. He smirks towards Y/N, dimple deepening in the challenge. The final cock of his brow makes Y/N serve to throw the ball in the air and she backhands it.
The lightweight ball whizzes past Y/N's side, through the low net and right against Harry's torso where he was rendered immobile until the ball makes contact with his body.
As it turns out, Y/N is pretty skilled at the sport and that lone, single shot proved that she had the resources to win his beloved trophy-which he has proudly held for a solid four days now.
The crew cheers at Y/N's serve, howls and whistles echoing through his ears. He blinks thrice before seeing his girl smile shyly towards the people giving her attention-her arms crossed over her body, but her small lip bite coincided with freshly fierce stamina.
Harry clears his throat, "Okay, so maybe I didn't see that coming,"
Y/N scoffs softly, "You think? You didn't even move," He bends down to grab the ball statured on the floor.
"Pfft, think fast!"
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