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Pushing through those long winter months with all its endless exams and studying had been hard, but they’d done it. And now they’re in their final week, welcoming the emerging, blissful heat of summer.
Harry’s final exam was yesterday, and he’s feeling so much more confident about it than he did in his first year, studying a degree that didn’t really interest him: Business. He had changed it to English a few months in, and he’s so much happier now.
The sun is out, blazing hot above the 8 of them. Maisie, Daphne and Anna had only returned from their last exam an hour ago so now they’re all finally celebrating, spending the afternoon in the front lawn, cherishing the sun.
Towels are spread out, plates of fresh fruit, bottles of water, and sunscreen accompany them. Harry’s shirtless, wearing his smallest pair of shorts so he can tan his thighs as well. He’s on his back, sunglasses on, eyes closed behind them, humming to the song playing from Molly’s speaker.
He reaches for a watermelon, rolling onto his front to sink his teeth into the sweet flesh, sucking quickly at the juice that ebbs out, down onto his fingers and lips.
He’s half listening to Maisie talk about her final paper, cross legged on the grass as she gesticulates her stress. Harry knows she’s worked hard for it, she’s got nothing to worry about. He keeps his lips latched onto the fruit, hands resting under his chin; it takes him a while to realise that the sun is blocked from reaching his skin, something is in the way. He rolls over, slightly frowning, but it’s quick to stretch into a smile, fingers reaching up to welcome Louis.
“Hi,” he grins dopily, sitting up as Louis joins him on the grass. “I missed you.”
Louis’ eyes are gleaming as he takes Harry in, a smile on his lips as he reaches up with his fingers to push his glasses up, so Harry’s blinking prettily up at him.
“Me too,” he whispers, eyes drooping low.
Then, his fingers move down to wipe at the lingering drop of watermelon juice from Harry’s chin, popping his fingers in between his lips for a taste. It’s not as obscene as Harry’s body makes it out to be, but he still loses his bearing, eyes lingering where Louis’ fingers travel.
“You look pretty.” Louis smirks, hands running down his sides softly. “Having fun?”
“Yeah. Are you leaving soon?”
Louis nods, “Last training session.”
Harry nods, resting his hands on Louis’ thighs, fingertips grazing the bare skin his shorts don’t cover. “You’ll be fine, tonight will go well. How are you feeling?”
“Bit emotional, I’m not gonna lie. I’ll miss playing with the boys. But things change, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” Harry hums, a little dejected too. Louis is graduating this summer, and Harry’s going to have to survive his last year without seeing him on campus.
“So,” Louis hums, pinching his waist. Harry squirms, looking back at him, admiring the way the torrents of blue in his eyes rise, glinting under the sun. His eyes are so much lighter in the sun, forever changing colour, and Harry’s captivated by each glance his way, wondering what he’ll see this time.
Louis pinches him again, a fond smile on his face as he says, “Did you hear me?”
“No.” Harry blushes, “Sorry.”
“S’alright. I was asking if you’re coming for tonight’s game?”
“‘Course I am,” Harry nods, fiddling with the hem of Louis’ shorts. “You know I never miss a game.”
“I know,” he smiles, bashful. “But I wanted to make sure, you’re my good luck charm, after all.”
Harry laughs, leaning in to kiss him. He can feel Louis smile against his lips, dragging his damp fingers to Harry’s chin, pulling him closer and he can feel the heat in his cheeks come to life when he hears the girls groan, telling Louis to leave Harry alone.
He pulls away, not without a final peck on Harry’s lips that has him smiling hopelessly.
“Sorry,” he says, as unapologetically as possible. “Can’t fault me for wanting to spend time with my boy.”
“Loser!” Daphne calls, laughing when he flips her off.
“Whatever.” Louis rolls his eyes in amusement, reaching forward to drag Harry’s glasses back over his eyes. “I’ll catch you later, doll.”
“Can’t wait.” Harry smiles, watching him stand up.
“You’re all coming too, right?”
“‘Course we are,” Ary says.
“Last game.” Maisie smiles, “Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
Louis smiles at her, nodding slowly. “Right. I’ll see you, then. Bye.”
He glances over one last time at Harry who grins, blowing a little kiss that makes Louis beam, shaking his head fondly.
Harry spends the rest of the afternoon under the sun, before he showers and dresses for Louis’ game.
Summer games are nicer, Harry thinks. It’s six o'clock and the sun hasn’t even settled into dusk yet. The sky is a gentle blue, the early shades of orange and salmon pink are yet to infiltrate the sky, and the sun is yet to make its final appearance. He hasn’t caught a glimpse at the field yet, but he knows the seats will be filled. People are celebrating the end of exams, after all.
And Harry’s celebrating Louis.
He makes his way to the locker room, knocking gently before it’s opened. Harry’s only been here once before, Louis usually drives them home after a game, he doesn’t like to keep Harry waiting. So, Harry’s still a little unfamiliar with the room. But the boys are pretty welcoming, chanting ‘Tommo’ when they spot Harry.
Louis’ head pops around the corner, curious before he breaks into a smile, coming out in just his shorts. Harry smiles when he sees him, before Louis pulls him to the side, kissing him quickly.
“What are you doing here? It’s a little early, isn’t it?”
“Came to wish you good luck.”
Louis smiles, taking him over to his locker. He glances at the other two boys he’s with, they nod and gather their stuff, giving the two some space.
“They don’t need to go.”
“It’s alright, they don’t mind.” Louis smiles, “Plus, I want your eyes only on me.”
Harry laughs, going to sit at the bench.
“Wait, baby, stand up.”
Louis comes closer, hands on his shoulders, twisting Harry slowly so he’s looking at his back.
“Tomlinson.” Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “My name looks good on you, baby.”
Harry can feel Louis’ hands slide down his sides, to his hips and then they reach the hem of his shirt, peeking up to graze the denim of his shorts.
“Couldn’t see these,” he mutters, lips by Harry’s neck. “You look so nice today, dressed up just for me.”
Harry nods, leaning back into him and smiling. He lifts up his fingers to show his nails, flexing them before wiggling them softly. “Matching.”
Louis rests his chin on his shoulder, taking Harry’s hands into his own. “I love it.”
“I’ve got a surprise for you later, too.” He bites his lip, grinning. Louis can’t see. “Red, too.”
Louis is quiet as he thinks, and Harry decides to help him, dragging his hands under his shirt to the waistband of his shorts. When Louis’ hands tighten, Harry knows he’s got it.
“Red?” He breathes, thumbing into the material.
Harry laughs quietly, nodding. “Yeah.”
“God, I can’t wait to see. Are there any conditions?”
“Not really.”
“So I don’t have to win tonight?”
“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You can do whatever, I’ll still be here. You’d still have won to me.”
Louis laughs, nosing into Harry’s cheeks from behind. “You’re too sweet.”
Harry grins, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment: Louis’ arms around him, the excitement before a match, the promise of a summer of freedom after tonight.
He hums when he opens his eyes again, bringing their hands closer in an embrace. Louis presses kisses to his neck, “Don’t you have to get dressed now?”
“Nah, it’s still early. I have time.”
Harry nods, bringing Louis’ hand back to his waist. “Nervous?”
“A little,” he admits. “I want to win this one.”
“You will.”
“I hope so. I’ve got you here, so that eases things.”
“You’re hopeless,” Harry bites back a smile though.
“Captain? You dressed?”
Harry can hear Louis huff. “Why? What for?”
Niall steps into vision. “Hey, Haz. We need to go over formations.”
Louis sighs, and Harry slowly steps away.
“It’s alright, go on. I should get to my seat anyway, I’ll see you there.”
Louis nods, kissing him a final time. “See you soon.”
Harry nods, “You’ll be alright out there.” Then he smiles a last time before he leaves, Zayn smiling behind the door as he closes it.
Harry was right about earlier, game momentum is high. It seems that nearly everyone has tried to buy a ticket. It takes him some time to reach his seat, not far from the team’s resting spot, and then he waits patiently for Louis to arrive, leading his team to the pitch.
The referee stands with both captains, and a coin is flipped. The usual, and Louis has won. He chooses the right side to defend first, not without looking for Harry, nodding his success to him. Harry beams, giving him a thumbs up before Louis has got to stand in position.
The crowds are getting louder, waiting for the whistle to blow before the frenzy starts. The ball whips back and forth, between feet and over heads. It flies out occasionally and soon twenty minutes have passed and no one’s scored. That’s usually okay for a normal match, but this is a final and the pressure’s on.
Harry gets a look at Louis a few times, adorably fond from the sharp look of concentration on his face. Players are starting to play round, unnecessarily so. There are a few fouls, the crowds get louder each time, and Louis is all Harry’s focused on.
Time is dragging nearer to half time, not one goal and everyone’s antsy.
Johnny, who’s usually so collected got into a brawl, shoving a player and catching the attention of Niall and Zayn who are close by. Louis is frowning from across the pitch, jogging over. Harry can hear him try to settle it down, but it's futile and two yellow cards are dished out.
Half time, and no one’s scored.
They’re off by the sidelines, chugging down water, and huddling together, no doubt going over strategies. The crowd is unsure who the winning team might be, stakes are high.
Louis is there, coaching his team for a final time and then he’s downing water again, dazing out into the pitch. Harry watches him, hoping he’s not starting to doubt himself. Louis’ eyes stay settled afar before they creep over to the stands, and Harry knows that he is who Louis is looking for, so he waits patiently until blue eyes find him.
Louis pulls his bottle down, cracking an uncertain smile for Harry who shakes his head, adamant he’ll win.
It makes Louis’ smile widen a bit more, shaking his head softly in denial.
“You’ll win.” Harry mouths, wondering if Louis will understand. Harry doesn’t think he does, judging by the way he cocks his head to the side.
So Harry digs under the neckline of his jersey, pulling out Louis’ necklace. He waits for Louis to register his actions before he places a soft kiss upon the letter, holding it to his heart as he waits.
Louis’ eyes are narrowed, watching him until he knows, and he breaks out into a blinding grin, eyes crinkling as he laughs. Harry doesn’t need to be there to know the timbre of his voice, how it curls right under his heart and holds him tight. He beams, kissing the necklace again until Louis is shaking his head, probably telling Harry he’s daft.
“You’ll win.” Harry repeats, and Louis still can’t hear but this time he nods, believing anything Harry will say.
He’s pulled away by his teammates, waving to Harry before he goes. A few minutes more, and the game continues.
The sun is setting now, baby pinks and oranges reign the sky, and the sun leaks like honey over the pitch, everything under it gleams, but none as bright as Louis.
The second half moves slower, both sides playing defensive but not really moving much. There’s an injury, and Harry thinks this must be the most eventful game he’s attended. The injury is on their team, and Louis is on his knees, frowning at Luke who’s down. Nothing extreme but he’s pulled out, and now they’re a man down.
Harry doesn’t want to accept the fact that the game will end in a stalemate and they’ll have to rely on penalties. That’s always unfair.
It’s not until the last ten minutes, does Louis get the ball in his possession, darting forward, tagged by Zayn. They’re yelling, and so are the crowds, all on edge. Harry’s standing up too, watching intently as Louis dodges and passes over to Niall, who passes it straight back because he’s being tagged and it’s too much of a risk for him to keep it. It’s becoming risky for Louis too, who increases his speed. They’re too close to the box, a bit more and they’ll be offside, but he must spot an opportunity no one else can because he overheads it to Zayn who shoots straight and—score.
The crowds rise up, screams unfathomable as they cheer. Harry’s smile splits his face in two, jumping up and down with the girls as the team celebrates. Louis reaches Zayn first, embracing him hard and then Niall joins and they’re all yelling and jumping.
There’s ten minutes left and all they’ve got to do is defend. Then they’ll be winners. It’s tense, their opponents aren’t ready to lose. The ball ends up on their side several times, and Harry can see how hard they all work to keep it away. Then there’s only minutes, and everyone’s one their toes.
Seconds.
Harry’s focused on the referee now, waiting for the whistle to blows
Then, at long last, its shrill sound cuts through all the noise and that’s it.
They’ve won!
Everyone’s turning to hug another, the team on the pitch are embracing one another too, jumping before they face their crowd. Harry’s not sure who started it, if it’s even safe, but one by one people begin running out onto the grass, to celebrate with their team, and then the girls are tugging Harry along.
Louis, he wants to see Louis.
There’s way too many people, and too much noise for Harry to look for Louis with his ears. But then he sees bright ginger hair, a flash of blond and Harry focus to his right, surveying the crowd until Louis is there and he smiles, running between people to get to him.
“Lou!” He smiles, arms stretching when he sees him.
Louis spots him last minute, quick to catch Harry in his arms. Then he’s got him, tight against him, laughing into chocolate curls as he holds Harry close, the force of him nearly toppling them over, but he’s got Harry secure now, safe and happy as he spins them.
“You did it.” Harry exclaims, the setting sun warm on his face. “I told you! I said you’d win!”
“Is that what you were saying up there?” Louis grins, hair matted down with sweat.
“Yeah.”
“Well, we did. Because of you.”
Harry laughs, “Shut up.”
“Good luck charm,” he says, picking out Harry’s necklace from under his shirt. “Yours.” He says before he leans in to kiss Harry. “And here’s mine.”
Harry giggles into his kiss, letting Louis drag him closer, under the warm sun. Summer’s started, and Louis has secured his name on this pitch a final time. And just to confirm, Harry’s got Louis’ name plastered into every corner of his mind, shiny on his neck, boldly embellished on his back, whilst it lights up in gold; not only king of the football pitch, but king of Harry’s heart too.