(Bring Your Body Baby) I Can Bring You Fame

Chapter 4: the one with the bet

“What time is it?” Harry asks when he finds Louis in his kitchen the next morning, talking to Zayn about God knows what.

Harry’s learned by now that Louis obviously doesn’t have any boundaries whatsoever, and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to that.

It’s not like you need to get used to it. You work for him.

“We’ve got ten minutes to spare.” Louis informs him before he pulls out his phone to text someone.

Harry makes himself a cup of coffee and sits down at the table across from him, not bothering to make himself any breakfast since he doesn’t have the time to eat it, and also because he’s a bit nervous to have Louis in his house once again.

Is it even normal for an eighteen year old to get nervous around someone?

He needs to stop acting like a child, he really does. So he makes a mental note to start acting more mature from now on, because after all, he’s leaving for Uni in a couple of months and if he wants to get a shot with Louis, he has to stop being a whiny baby.

“What are you doing after work today?” Louis asks, drifting his attention from Harry to Zayn.

“Probably going to meet up with Perrie or summat.” Zayn answers, not looking at him since he’s too busy with his phone.

“So you’re not coming over to help me unpack?”

“Lou, I’m not coming over to that pigsty even if you paid me.”

“What if I do pay you?”

Zayn perks up, but it’s obvious that he’s taking the piss. “How much are we talking about?”

“Fifty pounds an hour?”

“You’re crazy.” Zayn shakes his head. “But I still can’t come over to help. I already promised Perrie we’d hang out.”

Louis sighs. “Fine. I’ll find someone else.”

“I can help you.” Harry interjects. “I mean-if you want.”

“Okay then.” Louis c***s his head. “We’ll drive to my house after practice.”

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” Zayn tells him before he leaves the room to go outside.

Harry watches him with knitted eyebrows, but Louis asking him if he’s ready to go makes him snap out of his confused state.

They arrive at the training complex about ten minutes later, and this time Harry isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do, since today is a gym day. Is he supposed to just train with them? Stare at the walls until the two hours are over?

He decides to ask Giggs about it when everyone, including him, is headed to the gym on the first floor.

“Yes you may also use the gym, but next time we have a gym day, you don’t have to come in.”

Harry nods, not sure whether Giggs is telling him not to come the next time they have a gym day, or that he is allowed to come but not obligated to.

The gym is a giant room filled with different gym equipments, thirty of each of them. Giggs and Stuivenberg tell them to start their warm-ups, and then start with working from their chest down.

Harry awkwardly does the warm ups with the team, and then goes over to the weight benches. It’s been quite a while since he last tried lifting weights, or actually went to a gym (even though he has some gym appliances at home, he’s never motivated enough to use them), so he’s not sure how trained he is for lifting thirty kilograms while laying down.

He starts out simple, with 5kg weights on each side, but then progresses until he has twenty on each. That turns out to be a bad idea, because soon enough he pushes himself too far and finds himself stuck with the metal bar digging into his chest.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse or embarrassing, he hears Louis cackle from somewhere in the room, and then someone approaching.

“You alright there pal?” Louis asks, looking down at Harry with a teasing grin.

“Yeah uh-I’m stuck.”

“That’s because you’re not holding this weight the way you should. Let me show you.”

Harry scrunches his nose. “I would, if I knew how to get out from under these weights.”

Louis lifts up the bar and lets Harry stand up, before setting it on the handles. He lays down and looks up at Harry to see if he’s paying attention. And of course Harry is.

“You were holding the bar with your hands next to your shoulders like this.” Louis starts, and demonstrates as he goes. “But you have to have the back of your palms touch your shoulders so you can have some leverage.”

Louis then starts lifting the weight up, and then lowering it, but Harry’s too busy watching the way his biceps bulge out obscenely from all the effort.

“Are you following?” Louis asks, and Harry drifts his eyes back to his face.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s see.”

Harry nods and takes Louis place in a matter of seconds. He actually finds it easier when he starts lifting exactly like Louis showed him.

“See? Much easier the Tommo way.”

“Tommo way?” Harry asks, placing the weights back on their handles.

Louis smiles. “’s a childhood thing.”

He hangs out around Harry for a little while after that, giving him instructions and advice, before he’s called over to the bicycles.

“Always trying to slack off.” Herrera says, shaking his head at him when Louis climbs on the one next to his.

“I was just showing the kid around.”

Harry’s stomach knots.

I’m not a kid

He continues doing weight lifts, and runs on the treadmill for half an hour before they’re dismissed and asked to come in on time the next day.

When they get back to the locker rooms, everyone is starting to get undressed and hit the showers, Harry is not sure whether he should too. He’s sweaty and pretty sure that he also stinks, but he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“Aren’t you going to shower amigo?” David asks with a smile as he puts his towel over his shoulder.

Harry tries not to stare at his naked body as he shrugs. “I don’t want to um-make anyone uncomfortable.”

“What are you talking about?” David laughs. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

He’s always been my favorite, Harry thinks as he hurries to shuffle out of his clothes. Even though he’s never been shy about his body (he’s always naked around the house-Barbara and Niall are used to it by now), he can’t help but feel a bit weird and even insecure to get naked in front of these guys. They all have amazing six-packs and V-lines and…oh well.

He discards his clothes and grabs the towel that was sitting next to him on the bench to wrap around his waist before he walks towards the shower.

He tries not to look at anyone as he quickly washes himself, careful to avoid wetting his hair, and then quickly wraps the towel again.

When he gets back to the bench, he’s proud of himself for not staring at Louis (too much).

“So you’re still coming over to help me with my boxes right?” Louis asks as he walks over to an already dressed Harry.

“If you still want me to.”

“Of course I want you to. If I have no one to help me with, I don’t think I’ll ever be motivated to unpack on my own and then I’ll have to keep sleeping on the couch until I die from a bad back.”

“I’ve got a bad back and I haven’t died yet so I think you’ll be fine.” Harry says, not sure why he felt the need to share this information.

“Yes, but you’re young. I already have one foot in the grave.”

“’m not that young.” He mutters when Louis turns around to put his shirt on.

“What’s that?” Herrera asks, and Harry just shakes his head.

“Are you still coming to the pub on Friday?”

“Well…I mean if I’m invited then sure.”

Ander smiles. “Of course you are, or else I wouldn’t be asking you.”

Harry reciprocates the smile before he stands up and cracks his back. Louis is ready to go, with his Adidas bag slung over his shoulder and an expectant look on his face.

“Can you lock up for me?” Harry asks Ander. “And then leave the keys at the reception?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Harold?” Louis interrupts. “Ready or shall I wait for you in the car?”

“No, I’m ready.”

“Alright then. We’re out lads, see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t do anything that might get you in jail!” David yells after them, just before the door closes behind Louis.

“So before you enter my house, I have to warn you that it’s quite a pigsty, as Zayn put it.” Louis tells him after he starts the car.

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t think you can top the mess Niall has in his room.”

“’s that your boyfriend?”

“No? He’s the blonde guy from the pub. He’s with my other friend, Barbara.”

“Oh, the brunette with the blue eyes?”

Harry nods.

“Before you told me you were gay, I thought the two of you were together.” Louis admits as he breaks for a stop sign.

Harry snorts. “No thank you.”

“Aw come on, she’s fuckin’ pretty.”

“Yeah, but she’s not…a guy.”

Louis hums and c***s his head with a smile, not tearing his eyes away from the traffic light. When it turns green, he presses the gas pedal so hard Harry’s head jerks back against the headrest. He clings onto the door handle for the rest of the trip, since Louis apparently loves to drive like a madman when the streets are fairly empty and there’s no police car in sight.

Louis’ house is a one-storey semi-villa (it looks normal but at the same time it’s incredibly modern and luxurious) in a fancy neighborhood in Greater Manchester, with a big white garage door on the right side. There’s no gate, and Harry wonders if Louis isn’t scared of football supporters, paparazzi, or interviewers showing up at his front door.

He watches Louis’ fingers as they skim over the buttons on a small remote of his car keys, before pressing a button that causes the garage door to move. There’s another car on the right side of the garage; a black, glistening Range Rover that looks brand-new and unused.

“You have two cars?”

“Yeah. Never used the Rover though.”

Louis parks in the space left between the wall and the Rover, and then takes the keys out of the ignition.

“There’s no door leading to the house. We have to walk back outside.”

“That’s not practical.”

“I know, I’m going to have some guys over to build a door in this weekend.”

The garage door closes by the time they’re on the porch and Louis opens the front door.

The inside of the house is just as fancy as the outside. All the walls are plain white, and besides a small closet and a shoe stand, there’s nothing else in the hallway.

Louis drops his keys in a small bowl on top of the closet, and after he toes off his sneakers, he walks past the stairs through a door that probably leads to the living room from what Harry can see.

“The house isn’t as bad as you said-oh.” Harry stops speaking when he sees the countless boxes sprawled all over the living room, some opened and some not. They’re all labeled with words written a black marker such as MASTER BED, KITCHEN, LIVING ROOM, BOOKS (NOT URGENT), etc.

There’s a giant plasma TV hanging on the wall above the fireplace facing the couch, and to say that the coffee table is a disaster would be an understatement.

There are three opened pizza boxes on it, a half-eaten tub of ice cream, a few bowls of cereal and four bottles of beer all over it.

“Jesus Christ.” Harry breathes.

“No judging. I meant to clean that up yesterday after a few friends came over, but I fell asleep before I did so.”

“I’m going to wash the dishes, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Louis asks, watching confused as Harry grabs the bowls and the bottles before heading into the kitchen. “Alright so you’re just going to clean up my place?”

“You can start by opening one box at the time, but do it strategically. Start with the living room and them move in a circle, until you get to the upper level.”

“I like this bossy side of you.” Louis smirks. “You don’t seem so innocent anymore.”

“I seem innocent to you?”

“Well right now, you seem offended.”

Harry turns his back at Louis and places the dishes in the dishwasher, and then turns it on. Louis has apparently taken the job to throw the rest of the rubbish from the coffee table in the trash, so Harry busies himself with the box that says LIVING ROOM.

There are two lamps in there, a few books to fill the bookshelf in the corner of the room, and some cushions for the couch.

“How much s**t did you bring here?” Harry asks when he discovers two other boxes for the living room.

“Too much. I don’t even get to live in the house as often as I’d like. Thanks for helping though.”

Harry nods as he opens the second box, and the contents are similar to the first one. He’s about to move on to the box for the kitchen, when the doorbell startles him.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asks Louis, who’s elbow deep in a box labeled MISCELLANEOUS.

“I don’t think so. Wait, it might be Payno.”

“Who’s Payno?”

The doorbell rings again, and after Louis shoots him an expecting look, Harry turns around to walk over to the front door.

A tall man with broad shoulders and defined biceps is looking at him with a smile. “Uh…am I interrupting something?”

“No?” Harry asks, looking back over his shoulder.

“Is Louis available?”

“Yeah, he’s…available. He’s inside. Come in.”

“I’m Liam by the way.” Liam says and holds out a hand for Harry to shake.

“Harry.”

“How long have you been seeing-“

“Jesus Liam can I live?” Louis asks, walking towards them as soon as they enter the living room. “Harry here is our water boy, who kindly offered to help me move my s**t. Unlike some people.”

“I told you I was busy with Soph-“

“When are you not busy with her?”

Liam doesn’t answer as he pulls Louis in a hug, finishing off with a pat on the back.

“Do you have my stuff?”

Liam nods and searches for something through the pockets of his jeans, before he pulls out a small container that’s filled with something looking suspiciously like pee.

“Is that…?” Harry asks, pointing at the liquid.

“Yeah. Thanks bro. I’ll go put it somewhere I won’t forget so I can take it with me tomorrow.”

Louis disappears upstairs, so Harry’s left in an awkward silence with Liam in the living room.

“So how do you know Louis?”

“I got a job as the team’s water boy and he asked for help to unpack.”

“So there’s nothing going on here?”

Harry looks at Liam with a confused expression.

“Um, no?”

“Alright, just asking.”

Harry doesn’t ask why Liam would even ask that since as far as he knows, Louis is reportedly straight. When Louis comes back, Harry and Liam have already sorted out the kitchen and are ready to start with the upstairs area.

“I have to run Tommo, but we have to meet up sometime for drinks.” Liam tells him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Louis asks as he picks up a box for the bathroom.

“Going to meet up with Zayn. Do some ring shopping.”

“You want to propose to Sophia but didn’t ask me for advice? I’m hurt mate.”

“Zayn is more…Zayn. And you’re you.”

Louis rolls his eyes and then glances at Harry for a second. “Right. Well then, let me know how it works out. And about the drinks thing, some lads from the team and I are going out on Friday if you want to come.”

Liam nods and shakes Harry’s hand before he’s off.

“How do you all know each other since you just moved to London?”

Louis looks at him as they walk up the stairs with two boxes.

“We used to go to the same college together before I moved, but we kept in touch.”

They place the boxes down in the bedroom before they open them. They’re filled with clean sheets, pillow covers, pillows, and duvets.

“How many sheets does one need? And why?” Harry asks, but then sees Louis’ hesitant face before he shakes his head. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

Louis cackles and takes a sheet out of the box before turning to the king sized bed that takes up a lot of the space in the room.

“Are these washed at least?”

“Yeah they are. They’re new.”

Harry watches him struggle to get the sheets on the bed the proper way, but with no luck. “Do you even know how to make a bed?”

“With the risk of sounding like an asshole, I actually had a maid back in Paris who made my bed and cooked for me. So not really.”

“You were too busy with other stuff right?” Harry asks.

“Why do I sense that you’re slowly starting to think I’m an insufferable t**t?”

“I don’t think that.” Harry says and walks over to take the sheets from his hands. “Not that it would matter.”

Louis doesn’t answer as he steps back to let Harry put the sheets on the bed the way they’re supposed to. He watches his with furrowed eyebrows and his hands propped on his hips.

When Harry turns around to see if Louis even paid attention, he finds him looking down at his ass. He doesn’t say anything though, but the smile playing on his lips for the rest of the day might give him away.

-

The first thing that David says to Harry when he enters the locker rooms on Friday is that he’s coming along to a pub crawl tonight with a few guys from the team.

“Who else is coming?” Harry asks as he mentally makes a plan to take some money from his dad before he leaves for Barcelona later that night.

“Herrera, Tomlinson, Van Persie and some guys Louis knows. You can bring your blond friend along too if you want.”

“Niall?”

“The irish guy.”

“Sure.” Harry smiles, thinking about how Niall will piss himself when he finds out about this.

As soon as the cart is loaded up and ready, he takes some time before heading out on the pitch to text Niall.

Harry: soo De Gea told me to take you with us on a pub crawl tonight

Barbara: who??

Harry: Niall

Barbara: f**k u

Niall: f**k yeah!!! When and where? I’ll be at urs @ 7??

Harry: not sure yet

Harry: sorry barb it’s a lads night

Niall: but how did he ask? What did he say?

Harry: he told me to bring my blond friend along

Harry: the irish one

Niall: (beer emoji)(beer emoji)(beer emoji)

Harry shakes his head and locks his phone, before he pushes it into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s the first one out on the pitch, so he sits down on one of the benches as he waits for the rest of the team to come out and finally start training.

He watches them do warm-ups as usual, and tries not to stare at Louis too much. He’s been doing that in the car enough already, since Louis has kept his word and drives him to work after dropping Zayn off.

“Getting bored?” Louis asks breathlessly when he runs up to Harry an hour later, hair sticking to his forehead.

“A bit.”

Louis pushes his sweaty fringe to the left and bends down to get his bottle of water, this time without Harry’s help.

“So I hear you’re coming along to the pub crawl tonight.”

Harry shrugs, digging his fingers into the bench.

“Are you sure you can handle all the alcohol?”

“Yeah, ‘m not a baby.”

“So are you saying you’re willing to drink with me?”

“I don’t think I can handle that much alcohol though.” Harry smiles, squinting his eyes to look up at him.

“I knew you couldn’t.”

“Actually? Bring it on.”

“Are we making a bet?” Louis asks, and walks closer with a grin on his face.

“Yeah. We’re going to drink at the same time, and the first one to get drunk loses.”

“So what do I get when I win?”

“Well what do you want?” Harry asks and wonders if Louis took the question as sexually as it was intended.

“Hm…since I don’t have a pool, I get to come over one day and use it.”

“Sure. And what if I win?”

“Well what do you want?”

Harry bites his lip. “What would you be willing to give me?”

“Anything. I’m not a wimp.”

“Nothing comes to mind right now.”

“How about a blowjob?”

Harry coughs and chokes on air. “Wha-seriously?”

“I’m willing to break some boundaries. Because I know I’ll win.”

“You’re willing to blow me?”

“That won’t happen.” Louis smirks and places the water bottle back in its place.

“You just motivated me to win this bet.”

Louis leans over and holds out his hand for Harry to shake.

“I’m a sore loser.” Is the last thing he says before he turns around to join his teammates back on the field.

They play a short game to see what they need to work on after the weekend, and then they’re dismissed for the day.

Harry waits around the locker rooms after he’s finished cleaning up, so Louis can drive him home as usual. The discussion about the bet they will have going on later tonight starts up as soon as Louis pulls out of the parking lot.

“Are you sure you don’t want to back down now?” Louis asks him, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

“Yeah.”

“Alright then. But if you slip into an alcoholic coma I don’t want to be held responsible.”

“That won’t happen, don’t worry. The only time I passed out was on Niall’s eighteen birthday where I downed fifteen shots of Vodka in a span of ten minutes. And I didn’t die, so.”

“If you say so. I just thought I’d be nice and give you a warning.”

“I’m going to win this.” Harry states when they finally pull up in front of his house.

“You really want a blowjob so bad?” Louis laughs and stops the car.

“No, I just want to prove that you won’t keep your word about it.”

“I have never broken a bet or a promise in my entire life. Not about to start now.”

“Okay. At what time and where?”

“We meet in front of Temple at nine. Or is that too late for you?”

Harry shoots him a look before he gets out of the car and slams the door maybe a bit too hard behind him.

-

Niall arrives at Harry’s house exactly when he said he’d be there, and after an hour and a half of them playing FIFA in the living room, Harry finally goes upstairs to shower and get dressed.

His father hasn’t moved from the chair in the kitchen for the past three hours, so when Harry approaches him, he doesn’t ever bother to look up from the papers he’s currently reading.

“I’m going out.” Harry says and takes the wallet from the kitchen counter. His father doesn’t even flinch at the action.

“Take your keys because I have a flight at twelve so I leave in an hour.”

“When will you be back?”

“On Sunday evening because I have a charity gala on Monday and you’re coming with me.”

Harry sighs but doesn’t comment on it as he takes a fifty pound bill from his wallet. “I’ll manage.”

“I’ll leave you some money for food and if you run out just use your card.”

Harry nods. He already knows the drill, it’s nothing new.

Niall is waiting on him by the door with an expectant look on his face.

“Are we takin’ a taxi?”

“Yeah I’ll call one.”

The taxi arrives merely three minutes later, and at five past nine they’re already in front of the Temple Bar. They can’t see the other guys they’re supposed to meet up with outside, which means that they’re already inside at a table.

“Harry!” someone calls and Harry turns his head to see Ander waving at him from a table in the corner. David, Louis, Daley, and Robin are there too (it’s weird to call them by their first names but it would be even weirder if Harry called them by their last names to their faces).

They take up the last two empty seats at the table just as the waitress comes over, asking them what they’d like to order.

“I’d like a Jack and Coke.” Louis starts, looking at Harry curiously.

“Two.” Harry ads, shooting him a ‘yeah-that’s-right’ look.

The rest of the guys order too, before Niall starts talking about the Premier League.

When their drinks come, Harry tries to down it as soon as possible to get it out of the way.

“Go easy there Styles this is our first stop.” Louis chuckles as he sets his own empty glass down.

“Is there some kind of competition going on here?” David asks, pointing between the two of them.

“No.” they say at the same time.

When the discussion picks up again and the attention is shifted, Harry leans over to talk to Louis.

“Bring it on.” He says, winking. He can handle this.

Turns out, he can’t actually handle this. Two hours, three clubs, four cocktails, and five shots later, Harry is leaning against the bar in some club with his vision going cloudy. His head feels dizzy and Louis yelling into his ear about God-knows-what is not helping at all.

“Is that Liam?” Harry asks, pointing towards their booth.

“Yeah, he just got here with Sophia and Zayn. I’m feeling like a round of shots. You in?”

Harry turns his head with an annoyed expression. One more shot and he’ll be gone.

“Are you giving up?” Louis asks, smirking. “Just say the word and I’ll be happy to make an appointment to use your pool tomorrow right here and now.”

Louis’ words are slurred, but he’s definitely not as drunk as Harry. Which is not fair at all.

“Me? ‘m not giving up. Shots of what?”

“Vodka or Tequila?”

Harry scrunches his nose. “Tequila.”

Louis nods and orders four shots of Tequila with four lime slices and a bit of salt.

When the shots are placed in front of them, they move a bit to the right so they won’t be in the way to people who want to order.

“I’ll go first.” Louis says and takes a slice of lime between his fingers. “Tilt your neck.”

Harry doesn’t even register the words properly before he obeys, closing his eyes and gripping into the bar so he won’t fall off his feet.

He bites his lip when he feels cold liquid running down the side of his neck, and then Louis’ warm tongue lapping it all up before he takes the shot.

Harry looks up at him as his fingers skim his own shot glass, debating whether this is all worth it.

“Eh, f**k it.” he says and takes a slice of lime to suck it off Louis’ neck before taking the shot.

For a moment everything stops until the alcohol runs down his neck and stops into the pit of his stomach, leaving a hot trail behind.

“My insides are BURNING!” he yells and laughs, stepping back and losing his balance.

“s**t-f**k-are you okay?” Louis asks, gripping into his arm.

“Yeah…no. I think I’m going to be sick soon. I need some-“

“Fresh air.”

“Fresh air. Yeah. Sounds good.” Harry breathes and puts an arm around Louis’ shoulder, leaning against him so he won’t fall the second time.

As soon as they get outside, Harry untangles himself from Louis and sits down on the grass next to the building. He closes his eyes and lays down so he’s facing the sky.

“Are you okay mate?”

“No, I think I’m going to go to sleep.” Harry mumbles, crossing his ankles.

“s**t, don’t do that. I’ll get you home just-where’s your jacket?”

“In the coatroom.”

“Where’s your number?”

Harry squints his eyes because his head is pounding and he just wants to sleep.

“In my pocket. I don’t…” he trails off. He smells smoke, which means Louis must've lit up a cigarette and he would ask for one too, but he's too drunk.

He can hear Louis sigh before he feels a hand feeling him up really close to his crotch, until he finds the small number for the coatroom.

“I’ll be right back. Just-please don’t move. Please.”

“Couldn’t even if I tried.”

Louis is back in no time, announcing that he just called a taxi and that he should stand up.

“I can’t.”

“Jesus Christ…who thought this would be a good idea?” Louis asks himself as he struggles to lift Harry up. Harry clings to Louis’ shoulders and lets himself be dragged over to the taxi where he’s dropped in the backseat.

Louis tells the driver the address as he gets in the front seat, and doesn’t take his eyes off of Harry for the entire time it takes to get to Harry’s house. He pays the driver and then pulls Harry by his arms out of the backseat.

“Jesus, how much do you weigh?” Louis asks when he manages to open the gate with Harry’s keys.

Harry mumbles something unintelligible and then yelps when Louis suddenly lifts him up over his shoulder.

“This is…probably not the best…position.” He says. “But at least I get to see your ass.”

Louis gets him inside and drops him down on the couch, before he sits on the armrest with an exhausted expression.

“s**t. Never again.”

Harry snorts and tries to say something, anything, but he’s too far gone by the time he sees Louis standing up and taking off his jacket.