The Larry Book [ completed ]

i'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you

icecreamandlarry ( ao3 )
One of my favorites ☺️

Summary:
Louis hits Harry in the face with a football. Pickup lines ensue.

"When I first saw you I fell in love,

and you smiled because you knew."

-William Shakespeare

"Mate, I don't wanna go out today," Louis whined, pulling his beanie down lower to cover his eyes. "I feel like shit and I've got stuff to do."

Niall gave him a look that said what could possibly be more important than football and yanked Louis off the couch. "You've said that all week Lou. I wanna play so we're going to play."

You see, Niall can be very persuasive. And by 'persuasive' he means pushy and annoying as fuck until Louis finally gives in just to get him to shut up.

"Go put on some sweats or something, god." He crinkled his nose up. "Fuck you smell like shit. Take a shower."

"Wow," Louis said, rolling his eyes. "Way to sugar coat it, Ni. Don't want to hurt my feelings too badly or anything."

"Yeah, okay." Niall's indifference about everything will be the death of him, Louis swears. "Talk to me when you've burned off that layer of filth."

Louis took a shower, taking his time to scrub (using Niall's prized loofa) his body with his favorite wash (it's called Beautiful Day and it fucking smells like it too).

When he left the bathroom, he made sure to wrap himself in Niall's towel out of spite and use his hair gel.

Finally after thirty minutes and a lot of whining from Niall, they made their way out to the park. "Zayn's meeting us," Niall informed him as he tossed the ball up into the air. The ball went a little further than expected ("the fucking wind caught it, man") and Niall chased after it into the street.

"I'm not coming to your funeral," Louis told him once Niall stumbled back onto the sidewalk. "Because you will get hit by a fucking car one day."

"You really wouldn't come to my funeral?" Niall asked, looking like a kicked puppy. Louis shook his head seriously. "I would come to yours, you know. Even if you did something stupid."

"So. You know it's stupid and you keep doing it anyway. I see no logic in that."

"You don't see the logic in anything," Niall countered, placing the ball on the grass now that they've reached the park. "You're just as crazy as I am, maybe even more."

Louis ignored him in favor of finding Zayn, who was leaning against the no smoking sign smoking. He is the literal definition of 'fuck you'. Louis doesn't know if that's a thing, but if it is, it's got Zayn fucking Malik written all over it.

"One day you're going to get arrested," Louis informed him smugly.

Before Zayn could respond (probably with some snide remark involving a literary reference that will take Louis days to figure out) Niall cuts in, bouncing the football against Louis' forehead. "Ignore him; he's being especially twatish today."

Louis smiled at him sweetly. "Get back to me when you can use real words, mate."

Niall just shrugged (because he cares about two things in life: beer and women, neither of which Louis are) and tossed the football to him.

"Two on one?" He eyed Zayn hopefully, but Zayn only glared at him and he sighed. "One on one," he corrected dutifully. Louis doesn't know why he tries, the only form of exercise that Zayn does is flipping the pages of books and raising his cigarette to his lips, and even those he does at the pace of a snail.