i sleep naked ➸ larry stylinson

fifty three

"is it bad that i'm nervous?" louis chuckled quietly, standing by the door and shuffling from foot to foot. his arms were crossed over his chest and his shoulders hunched, and he was biting his lip. harry could easily tell that he was, in fact, nervous.

"why would that be bad?" harry asked, tilting his head. he wished that the way louis looked right now didn't affect him so much. harry couldn't decide whether he liked the tightening of his chest when he looked at the older boy. he reached out and brushed his fingers across the white, thin material of louis' football jersey. it was white, a few faded grass stains on it, and the number seventeen written where it belonged. the sleeves hung loosely around his skinny, tan arms. his skin looked so soft.

"because i'm usually quite confident," louis paused, brushing his fringe out of his eyes and pushing his water bottle against his hip, "but for some reason i'm getting all shaky and i don't like it. it's your fault, harold." 

harry scoffed. "i did nothing."

louis smiled, his eyes crinkling for a moment, before leaning in and kissing harry softly. "you'll be my good luck charm, angel." he whispered, and the way his breath fanned over harry's lips caused his cheeks to burn. harry had to step back, just a little, an overwhelming feeling washing over him as louis reached out and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. harry shut his eyes slightly, tilting his head towards the boy at his light touch.

"you'll do great," harry whispered. "you didn't practice all this time for nothing. it's your first game, and it's inside so you don't have to worry about the cold. i'm sure you'll do perfect."

louis sighed. "i hope your right, babe. i couldn't sleep last night, too nervous," he admitted.

"why didn't you tell me?" harry asked quietly. "i could've sang to you."

louis' eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. "that'd would've been so wonderful." he laughed lightly, caressing harry's curls with a bit of wonder in his eyes. harry still wondered why louis was so intrigued and fascinated with his curls. 

harry blushed again, every second louis was staring at him unnerving him even more. he adjusted the watch on his wrist before meeting eyes with the boy again. 

"let's go to the game."

"'course. i got you front row seats."

***

"are one of the players your brothers?"

"no," harry said.

"family?"

"no."

"boyfriend?"

harry didn't respond, but he had to turn his head when he heard the long sigh escaping the lips of the person sitting next to him. they were both in the front row, so close to the field that if he reached his hand over the fence far enough he could touch it. harry missed when louis had games in high school and the seating was random, depending on who got there first. now, though, it was college footie, and it was serious. harry smiled at that, before he remembered the boy sitting next to him.

"what's wrong with that?" harry said defensively, finally meeting eyes with the boy. his were ocean blue, a little bit less blue than louis'. he had full lips and pale, porcelain skin. but harry couldn't examine him for long before the boy was jumping back, eyes wide and regret clear on his face.

"there's nothing wrong with that!" he said quickly. "no, no my boyfriend's out there. see? number five. dark brown curly hair? his name's darren."

harry wasn't one for stereotypes, but he wasn't surprised that the boy was gay by his high, feminine voice. the reason he liked louis' because it had a deep, raspy tone to it, a soft, wonderful whispery tone that he could never get enough of.