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You'll Always Make Me Proud - A Phitt fiction
“Dammit!” Michael yelled as he came up from basement, his shirt soaked through.
Summary: The Sexy Six is not what it seems. Sure, their name, which the boys thought to be commical, was true. They were six sexy lads thrown together on a team. To the public, they appeared to be six terrific friends who got a long perfectly, but in reality, they were anything but. Any friendships formed die fast in this team, and personality crashes wreck the team to the core. This is their one and only shot at the Olympics, and the pressure is on, not just because it is the Olympics. The team has stored so many secrets and lies over the past three years of training, and some are about to bubble to the surface. Only one string holds this team together, and that’s the thought of taking home the gold.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive”
It wasn’t meant to be this way; it really wasn’t.
That’s what their coach would say if he ever told the truth.
In the beginning, they were all the best of friends and some even lived together. Nobody in the group will say what made things change; nobody will confess. Only Harry knows, and he swears he won’t ever tell anybody why he really snapped at Tom only a few months after they formed. He let everybody believe it was because he was tired of Tom’s bullshit, including himself. It was really odd that nobody ever questioned him, thinking about it now. Him and Tom were the closest pair on the team, even closer than Liam and Zayn.
It was a stressful day for the whole team. It was storming like hell outside, and Zayn was tremendously scared of thunder. Louis didn’t make it any better, cracking jokes whenever Zayn jumped or yelled. Niall had thrown up earlier because he had eaten too much before he got on the pommel horse. Liam tried to comfort Zayn, which threw Louis into hysterics, delving into gay jokes. Tom and Harry tried to calm everybody down and keep everybody focused, but nobody listened.
“God, fuck this!” Tom had finally screeched, throwing a fist full of chalk in the general direction of his teammates as he turned on his heels, racing down the hall.
“Tom, c’mon mate, don’t be like this!” Harry whined, chasing after Tom. Tom slowed down his pace a little, allowing Harry to catch up. He gently grasped Tom’s shoulder, forcing him to stop. Tom refused to look at Harry, no matter how hard he tried. Harry sighed as he wrenched his body in front of Tom’s. “C’mon mate, let’s go work on our routine, yeah? If the other lads won’t work, don’t let if bother you. It’ll just show coach that we can be put through anything and still work.”
What a lie that had been.
“Why work if the other’s don’t have to?” Tom countered, finally looking Harry in the eyes. His piercing milk chocolate orbs dug deep under the curly lad’s skin. The older boy shivered and had to bite down on his lip furiously to stop himself. He shrugged and began to strut back down the hall to the main room when Tom called after him, “Fine! I’ll be there in a minute!” Harry couldn’t help but smile to himself as he kept on gliding down the hall.
When he got back with the rest of the team, nothing had changed, except the thunder was a tad bit softer. Harry began to smother his hands with chalk dust when all chatter ceased. Liam turned away, his face bright red, and Zayn began laughing. Louis wolf-whistled. “What’s so funny you gu-” he stopped mid-question as he spun around, seeing a fully nude Tom in front of him. He clapped a hand over his mouth, a whole world of emotions flooding through him.
Tom grinned and playfully winked at him. “Like what you see?” he teased as he rotated fully around.
The curly mane shook furiously. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Goddammit Tom, put some clothes on.” Tom laughed and grabbed at a pair of gym shorts on the bench near him.
“Chill out, Hazza. Loosen up a bit.”
Harry’s eyelids ripped open, the softness behind his emerald specs melting away. “Chill. Out?” he forced out between his closed teeth. “Chill out?! Who was the one who just stormed away, practically telling everybody to go fuck themselves, huh?” His voice was as high-pitched as a teenaged girl’s now, as it always was when he was mad. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite, I can’t take your bullshit anymore!”
He marched over to the bench and pulled his sweats on over his shorts and tugged on his team jacket. He yanked the keys out of his pocket and turned towards the boys up in the bleachers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, lads.” He turned to Tom next, a glimmer of hope that he might get an apology. No words were uttered though, so he started weaving through the stations.
Tom’s voice, barely above a whisper, floated through the air. “Love you too Styles.” A snicker accompanied the remark, which stopped Harry dead in his tracks.
“Fuck you Tom!” he roared as he slammed his body against the door. The wind wipped his curls in every direction as he made his way to Louis’ car. He crushed the unlock button and threw himself in the driver’s seat. Ever since he had made the team, he had lived with the eldest member of the team; he convinced his mom by telling her it would be easier on the family if she didn’t have to constantly cancel appointments and take off work to drive him to practices. Harry slammed his head against the steering wheel, knowing it wouldn’t be right to drive off without Louis. He need him to drive, anyways, considering he had just gotten his permit last month.
He wasn’t sure where the tears were coming from, but they rapidly sped down his cheeks and onto the leather padding of the steering wheel. “Shit,” he muttered, wiping at his with his jacket. He looked up and saw Louis staring at him from the door. He dropped his gaze when Harry noticed him, and then forced himself through the wind a couple of seconds later. Harry followed Louis with his eyes as he made his way over to the car and knocked on the passengers window. He pressed the unlock button and Lou immediately slipped into the passenger side.
“You alright, mate?”
Harry and Louis both knew Lou already knew the answer. Harry shook his head and began wiping away more tears.
“I’m not gonna be an arse and ask what’s wrong, ‘cos that’ll only make you more upset. Shh, c’mon now Harry, don’t cry. Come here. Let’s get in the back.”
They slipped through the space between their seats to the back row, the curly haired boy staring intensely at the older boy’s eyes as they moved.
“Come here Haz.” Louis opened his arms and Harry dove into them, snuggling into Louis. He pressed his head firmly against Lou’s chest, his curls tickling Louis’ chin. Louis lightly presed his chin ontop of his best friend’s head, trying to comfort him to the best of his abilities. He ran his long, ebony fingers through his mate’s matted curls repeatedly, and finally Harry’s full on bawling turned into small hiccuping.
“I can’t believe I thought he was my best mate,” Harry muttered in awe. “I’ve known you longer, Lou, and you should’ve always been in that position. I mean, we live together for Christ’s sake!”
“It’s okay Harry, honestly.” He gave a small smile even though Harry was still snuggled in his chest.
“No it’s not. You’ve always been my best mate. It’s taken me ‘till now to realize what an ass Tom is. You know what Lou? I love you. You’re the best.”
Louis couldn’t help but smile even wider as Harry pulled himself closer onto his lap, trying to drift off. Louis kept stroking Harry’s curls, and when he was sure the young boy was asleep, he murmured, “I love you too, Haz.”
He had gotten his best friend back.
Everything goes silent as a spaceship comes from a sky- but everyone panics.
It’s a real spaceship.
Everyone’s hearts stop as we hope for a sign of peace. Until we hear the a shrill voice:
All hope seems lost, until a faint, familiar whirring whispers throughout the stadium. It grows louder, and louder, and a blue figure begins to fade into existence. Everyone in the stadium as wished for this moment, only being able to dream about it.
The door of the blue box cracks open, and a head pokes out with a microphone:
“Ello, I’m da Doktah.”