Half Time
Source: qualtystylinson (Twitter) aka me
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2132
Summary: where Harry's date won't kiss him, and there's a very attractive and nice candidate next to him.
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No one else was gay in this town, at least that's what Harry has observed so far. No one in his high school had been, and so far no one in college either. No one that he can find. It's as if no one on the whole bloody campus takes the time to talk to people. That's why he only has his three friends and one acquaintance from his creative writing class.
He has tried some online dating site, cautiously, which then proved to fail. Just as he had expected. He was beginning to feel hopeless about the dating world. Which was why he was so giddy when someone he had ran into at the cafe and shop near his dorm took a liking and said that they should hang out sometime. It's the only thing that hadn't ended up badly so far, even after two weeks of being "friends" when he had asked Harry out. Matthew, his name is. Tall, and blonde, and full of sarcastic remarks. He pronounces things differently than people in New Jersey, and Harry had soon had learned that it was his "Philly accent", whatever that meant. All he knows is that he says things like "walkin", and "talkin", and "zink" instead of "sink". He can be rude at certain times, and has sexual pick up lines that don't quite flatter Harry. But he's most of the time nice to Harry, so that's all that mattered.
Their date is to one of the college basketball games. Because of living in America since ninth grade, Harry had easily learned that the big things in high school were cheerleaders and football games. Now at college it's football and basketball. Basketball is the big thing at his school, Saint Joseph's University.
They walk in, Harry close behind Matthew, because of the close proximity of everyone rushing around. They have their maroon Saint Joe's Hawks shirts on, supporting the team and and school. A lot of their fellow students most likely know that Harry and him aren't straight, seeing as Matthew kissed him just once when leaving the cafe the week before. Yet his hand still comes up to scratch his chin when Harry tries reaching for it as they're slithering through people.
"We're in the students section," Harry says, walking around the corner in the hall.
"Obviously," Matthew gives a smirk, "we should've came around the other door so we wouldn't have to be walkin' all the way around," he says more so to himself, but Harry still bites his lip.
"Sorry. Haven't ever been to a basketball game, especially here," he chuckles, scurrying to keep up with the other boys long strides.
Matthew whips his head towards Harry, alarmed, "You've never been to a basketball game?" he exclaims, his accent sticking out. Or at least, his American accent. Five years now and Harry still feels out of place with only the American accents around. The only other time he had heard other accents besides mexican, which he heard more than others, was the one Irish girl at the airport, and when he was at the beach and a family sounded like they were from France. Turns out they were from Montreal.
"No. More of a football- or uh, soccer fan," they entered the gym, which was alive with music from the band, cheerleaders shouting from their spots on the sideline behind the basket, and fans cheering as the teams were huddled on each side of the court. Matthew leaded himself and Harry to their seats, towards the front, and sat down.
"The game is about to start. We were a little late," Matthew tells Harry, who nods, and looks around him to possibly spot someone he knows. They're all students, in his section, yet the school is so big that he literally knows no one.
He looks up as someone moves into his aisle, giving him a smile as the man sits down next to him. Harry dismisses the attractiveness of him, as well. He's on a date, he can't think of other people. "Good seats for being partially blocked by cheerleaders, huh," the guy comments, which, okay, Harry thinks. Because he doesn't have an American accent, but instead an English one, much like himself.
He nods anyway, "I wouldn't know any better," he smiles.
He notices the same thing Harry does, "You're from England too?!" he raises his eyebrows, a grin breaking out on his face. Matthew joins the conversation just as Harry goes to answer.
"Holts Chapel, he's from," he nods. The man looks confused at him for a moment.
"Holmes Chapel. Cheshire," Harry corrects.
"Nice, nice. I'm from Doncaster, Louis," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand.
Harry shakes it, "Harry Styles," he tells him. Louis reaches his hand a bit farther for Matthew, who pretends not to of heard any of the conversation. "That's Matthew."
Louis nods, "Seems nice. What brings you here? I've been to Holmes Chapel before, it's lovely," he compliments.
Harry shrugs, "Moved over the summer before year nine," he says, "something for my mums work."
Louis scrunches his nose, "Work, sucks innit. I'm just here for college. No big story. I wanted to try exploring and going to school in the states so here I am," he sighs, but before he can say anything else Matthew interrupts them.
"The game is starting," he tells Harry, who nods, giving a smile and another nod to Louis before averting his attention to the game. It begins as interesting, especially when the players run down the court to the side Harry is on, but after the first half of not understanding anything that's happening, it gets real boring real fast. He tries to ask Matthew what's happening every so often, but no answer actually ends up being spoken. All except the few times Louis hears him ask a question and jumps in to explain.
Half time hits. The score is wild, if you ask Harry, but according to Matthew the NBA is even higher. Like always, Harry wouldn't know.
The cheerleaders do some big routine, followed by the dance team. Harry thinks the game is going to start back up, but is proved wrong when the big screen lights up with the words "Kiss Cam" going across the bottom.
He gasps, watching the camera zoom over the whole crowd at least twice, before it lands on the students section. And before he can even point anything out, the camera lands on him and Matthew.
Harry gasps, shaking Matthews shoulder. He looks bewildered at Harry, then up at the screen where the excited boy is pointing. "Kiss me!" Harry grins, but when Matthew only shakes his head with an uninterested expression his face falls, and he looks away, staring at his lap. People start cheering, or booing, rather, and Harry thinks they're yelling at him for not doing it. But then he realizes that they're yelling at Matthew for declining, the people right behind him, even. Going "kiss him jerk!" and "do it asshole!", and other comments. The Kiss Cam screen is starting to count down from twenty. Twenty seconds before it shuts off and the next halftime event is rushed onto the court.
Louis nudges Harry's elbow with his own, and when the curly haired boy looks up at him, he raises his eyebrows. Harry cocks his head, but then sits up straight. Fifteen seconds.
Harry looks at Matthew, who is looking back at him, then at Louis. And when seeing the countdown at ten seconds, he huffs in Matthews direction, turns, and cups Louis' face, kissing him instead. It comes off a surprise, to Louis, since his elbow nudge was just a thing to say "don't worry about that asshole", but he doesn't complain, and kisses Harry back. His one hand on the boy's neck and the other on his thigh, and when he pulls his leg a bit Harry laughs into the kiss, and climbs on Louis' lap.
People yell and holler, cheering them on, especially Harry for dissing the dick of a date Matthew was. The Kiss Cam was still on, even though the last two seconds had just gone off on it. Turns out everyone must have wanted to see how it played out. Meanwhile the boy himself hadn't even noticed yet.
Louis lets out a laugh, gripping Harry's collar with one hand and holding the other arm out to stick middle finger out at Matthew. "Fookin loosah!" he calls at him, kissing Harry again when the blonde finally looks up and over from his phone.
"Harry! What the fuck?!" Matthew shouts angrily. Harry looks at him, and although he cheated on his date he can't help but grin, his laughter unstoppable. Matthew goes to pull Harry off of Louis, but is held back by two other people, who more than likely don't want him with Harry. All thanks to not wanting to kiss in front of thousands of people. Sucks for him though.
"You wanna get out of here?" Harry asks Louis, "I've never been a fan of basketball."
Louis nods, "I can tell. C'mon," he says loudly, the noise around them not helping. Harry gets off of him, and grabs his jacket and scarf from his previous seat before being pulled giddily away and down from the stands by the man who technically is still a stranger to him. They don't get out without many high fives and knuckle punches though.
"What building are you in?" Louis grabs the scarf from Harry so that he can put his coat on, and then tucks it around the boy's neck.
Harry looks at Louis, noticing how much shorter than himself that he is. He's always liked taller guys, but for some reason he has a thing for this short feathery haired, funny, English guy, that just so happens to be in America. "I was actually going home for the week. Winter break starts Monday, but I was gonna get down tonight since it's Friday and I don't have classes on the weekends," he tells Louis, "I wouldn't mind you coming with me, though. My mum believe it or not, would love you... And that probably sounded weird since I just met you about an hour ago," he winces.
Louis shrugs, "I've got nothing to do. Too expensive to fly down to Donny for a week, so I'd be staying here on campus for the time being" he says. It makes Harry frown, as someone who doesn't like people being alone, it upsets him.
"Can you come with me? I-I mean you don't have to, but I don't want you staying in these stupid dorms all winter break. It's depressing in there," he chuckles, "plus, my mum makes mad home cooked meals, and we have actual beds and not ones where your feet sometimes hang off," he points out.
Louis shoots him a playful glare, "My feet don't hang off. I'm short compared to most."
Harry sighs, "Please spend the week with me, Louis. I know we just met and I'm a total dork, but I don't want you being alone for Christmas. I kinda like you already, so," he shrugs, which makes a small smile play at Louis' lips.
"I guess I could," he murmurs. Harry's face breaks out into a grin, and he hugs Louis in excitement. "We should probably go pack then," he says into Harry's hair, digging his cold nose into the boy's neck. He smelt like comfort, and wool from his scarf, and dark chocolate, and just everything right.
"I've got everything packed already. I was gonna take a taxi, though, since it's only my first year here. Freshmen aren't allowed to have their cars on campus," he pulls away.
They start to walk, and Louis furrows his eyebrows, "No, I've got my car, don't worry about it. I'm in my third year. I've got an apartment right outside of campus, fifteen minutes from here," he tells him.
So, they take Louis' car back to his shared place, with his friend Niall that he had been dorm roommates Freshman year, and best friends with ever since. He isn't there when they stop by for Louis to throw a bunch of clothes and other things in his bag, but Louis promises that he'll introduce Harry to him eventually.
They talk aimlessly about anything and everything in the car ride back to the small town called Marlton, not known to nearly anyone unless you've actually been there. They bond over things, find silly coincidences, tattoo's for instance. But who knows if it's just a crazy coincidence, or fate.
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