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“I am so good at this game,” Louis says, grinning when the dreidel comes to rest Gimel side up.
“It’s literally a game of chance,” Harry complains, probably for the fourteenth time only today. Honestly, seeing Harry despair over Louis dreidel ‘skill’ is at least half the reason he brags about it so much. Louis does tend to win their games though.
“So why is my pile literally three times as big as yours?” Louis teases, making a big show of pulling all the chocolate coins from their pot over to his pile, before tossing one back in. There’s only three of them, since he just cleared it out a couple uneventful spins ago, but Louis tends to make a show of everything.
Harry chucks in a coin as well, and waggles his eyebrows. “You’re getting lucky.”
Louis can’t help but laugh and toss a chocolate coin at Harry’s head, Harry protesting weakly. It’s not like they don’t always divide the pile evenly at the end of the game anyway. Apparently that’s the most important part of the tradition. Louis’ll have to take Harry’s word for it.
Harry’s really not very Jewish at all, when all’s said and done, but he’s still more Jewish than Louis is C of E, his baptism the only thing his father left him with, whereas Des left his children with a few traditions and beliefs. (And a phone number, but that’s nothing to do with the topic at hand.)
Louis remembers still how strange it was to him when Harry wouldn’t come to school when they were little because of some holiday he’d never heard of before. How jealous he was that Harry got extra days off school – all of the ones Louis got, but also all those other mysterious ones that Louis knew nothing about.
Now, at nearly twenty-four, sharing a flat with Harry, best friends for close to two decades and boyfriends for two years, Louis knows better. He knows which days Harry will fast and refrain from work, and he knows which days are for celebration. He knows Harry’s favourite – Rosh Hashanah, because Harry loves beginnings – and he has a favourite of his own – Chanukkah, because Louis loves fried food, games, and chocolate coins. And because Chanukkah was the first holiday Louis asked Harry to explain to him when Harry started taking out books about Judaism at their library.
“Well, I’m certainly luckier than you,” Louis snickers, when Harry’s spin of the dreidel lands him with another Shin and he dutifully puts another one of his coins into the pot.
Louis’ spin – a Shin as well – makes Harry grin, but his own – Nun – is entirely uneventful.
Louis picks the dreidel up and makes a show of rolling it between his hands as though warming it up. Harry’s only got one more coin left, so if Louis empties the pot again, it’s Harry’s last chance.
“Oh, come on,” Harry says, rolling his eyes.
Louis carefully places the dreidel on its tip, giving Harry a disapproving look.
“Perfection can’t be rushed, H,” he says before spinning the dreidel.
Despite their bantering, they’re both way too tense as the top spins and spins.
“You’re waiting for a train,” Harry mumbles with a smirk pulling at his lips as he flicks his eyes up at Louis.
Louis chucks another chocolate coin at him, but it bounces off Harry’s arm and skids into the still spinning top, tripping it over into another Gimel.
“That doesn’t count!” Harry yells, while Louis cackles and grabs for the chocolate coins between then.
Harry reacts instantly and goes for the pile between Louis’ legs instead, grabbing handfuls of them.
“How very dare you!” Louis shouts, and drops his own coins to tickle Harry into dropping the coins again.
Harry tries to wriggle away and then to throw a few coins at Louis’ face, but Louis only burrows his head into Harry’s neck and tickles him some more.
“Okay, okay! I give, I give!” Harry finally laughs, breathless even after only a few moments of it. He’s always been extraordinarily ticklish.
“Say I win,” Louis says, leaning back and pulling his head away from Harry’s neck so he can grin into his face.
Harry rolls his eyes but then smiles.
“You win,” he says and then dumps all the chocolate coins he’s still got in his hands on Louis’ head, laughing at Louis’ unimpressed expression.
“Now kiss me, you fool,” Harry grins, mischief dancing in his eyes and hand curled into the collar of Louis’ jumper, pulling him down on top of where he’s laying back onto the floor.
Louis follows him willingly, smile sweet and not at all a hindrance as he presses it against Harry’s.
“Told you I was getting lucky.”
The End