Okay so this is literally not at all when I actually think you mean but I thought about it and then I thought it was funny so please forgive me:
“Louis,” Harry calls, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He can hear cackling coming from down the hall, so he heads in that direction, following the sound of laughter.
“Lou,” Harry tries again, once he’s got closer. “Caroline’s gonna be pissed, she sent me to get you an hour ago.”
“Ooh, Caroline’s gonna be pissed,” Louis says mockingly, and Harry should really have seen it coming but he doesn’t, so he rounds the corner to a face full of whipped cream.
Some days he second thinks his decision to be in this for the long haul.
Not really, but the thought is comforting.
“I hate you,” Harry groans, swiping mostly ineffectually at his face, trying to clear the cream off.
“I tagged you half an hour ago, Harry, you’re it,” Louis says impatiently, poking Harry in the face while he can’t really see properly. Harry swears and swipes at him, missing. “You’re so bad at this, honestly. It’s just tag, it’s not like it’s rocket science.”
The cream is finally cleared off enough that Harry can see. Louis’ standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised, clearly waiting for Harry to respond.
If Harry was slightly more mature he’d force Louis to go see Caroline before she really goes on the warpath, but instead he lunges and takes Louis down in a mess of flailing limbs, tickling his ribs until he’s breathless with laughter, squirming underneath Harry’s body.
The biggest benefit to being in this for the long haul is that he knows exactly how much it takes before Louis genuinely needs a minute to catch his breath, so Harry gives him exactly that much and then scrambles to his feet, calling, “Now you’re it!” over his shoulder as he runs back down the hallway, passing the rest of the boys along the way.
“Louis’ it,” he tells them, not waiting for a response, and there’s a mad dash as they all start running around the venue, just generally making a ruckus and hiding behind seats and tables and amps.
After twenty minutes, Louis’ pouting face becomes apparent enough that Harry just lies down on the ground and lets Louis catch up to him, climbing up onto Harry’s hips like he’s done it a thousand times before.
He has, but Harry will never be the one to tell.
“You’re it,” Louis informs him, poking him in the cheek. Harry grabs his wrists and doesn’t let him up, pulling him down so they can snog hot and heavy in full view of whoever happens to be wandering past.
“You guys are so gross,” Liam complains eventually, standing over them and throwing pieces of popcorn at them. Harry flips him off behind Louis’ back and keeps kissing him, until Caroline finds them for real and then it’s more like she’s it from how fast they’re all running away.