Work Text:
You would think that buying a sports bra shouldn’t be a Sisyphean task, especially not for someone like Louis who has been a proud owner of an incredible pair of boobs, according to her own totally not biased opinion, for half her life. And it’s not like she is new to the world of sports bras either, having played football since she could barely walk, not having let it stop her when her body decided to permanently attach two watermelons to her chest that needed to be strapped down properly if she wanted to avoid bruising on her chin. Alright, maybe more like two mangos and there have never been bruises but there was no way around the fact that those parts of her body needed to be kept in line if she wanted to spend ninety minutes running around without dying.
It's just that Louis, with her extreme love for last-minute packing and letting her mum do her laundry, somehow managed to leave all three sacred sports bras at home when she went back for reading week and now she’s in a bit of a, well, jiggly situation. So here she is, armed with thirty quid that she would honestly much rather spend on drinks and an intense feeling of dread. There is a reason she’s stuck to the same brand for years, no need to try things on, no need to figure out her size ever again but with no Sports Direct in town, only an overly colourful little shop wedged between Costa and Build-A-Bear that calls itself “Run & Fun – Sports For Young & Old” as the rainbow lettering above the shop windows proudly proclaims, she can already tell it’s not going to be that easy.
She enters the small shop and finds it completely empty, no customers or sales assistants to be seen anywhere. Good, Louis thinks, saves her the embarrassment of having some old lady hand her one beige monstrosity after another while the urge to dig herself into the floor gets stronger by the minute (been there, done that, never again). Louis immediately spots what she’s looking for and makes a beeline for the display shelves next to an entire wall of neon trainers. “Right, here goes nothing”, she mumbles to herself and starts digging.
It’s a disaster. There is no other word for it. From where she is currently stuck halfway out of a bright pink contraption tight enough to cut off her breathing Louis looks around herself in the tiny fitting room she is currently on the verge of suffocating in. There are no less than thirteen bras scattered all over the floor so that she can’t even move without stepping on them. Louis struggles and wriggles around to get out of her pink death trap but the fabric doesn’t give one bit. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“Um, are you alright?” asks a voice behind the thick curtain separating her from the rest of the shop and Louis shrieks. Great. Lovely. Like this isn’t bad enough already. Stuck forever in an elaborate twist of tight polyester and now there’s someone here to witness her losing her last shred of dignity because there is no way in hell she is getting out of this by herself.
“I…might have a bit of a…situation in here”, she grits out and thankfully her back is turned towards the big mirror on the wall behind her because otherwise she’d see her face go scarlet read.
“And is this a situation I could possibly help you with?” says the voice and Louis can’t believe she is going to have to let a beige bra granny save her life.
“I’m kind of, well, stuck. I think. Might need help getting out.” God, if only the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“Oh that happens to lots of people, I’m gonna guess you’re trying on sports bras? Can I open the curtain so I can help you?” Somehow, even though it should be impossible, the person manages to babble happily and drawl incredibly slow at the same time. Louis nods once before realising her saviour-to-be can’t see her.
“Uh yeah come in.”
It’s ten times worse than Louis expected. The girl that slides the curtain open and shoots her a friendly smile is, simply put, gorgeous. She is a bit taller than Louis, maybe an inch or two, with chocolate curls tumbling down past her shoulders, ending just above where her bright white polo shirt is embroidered with Run & Fun on her chest. Her milky legs that stretch on for miles are sticking out of a pair of bright turquoise gym shorts and Louis can’t stop between going legslegslegs and mouthmouthmouth at her strawberry lips in her head. Her fascination only lasts a moment though, until she realises she is still stuck with one arm in, and the other out of a sports bra that she will need the girl’s help to get out of. Oh God, Louis realises with a start, gorgeous girl is going to have her hands in the very close vicinity of Louis’ breasts. It’s fine, honestly, she just feels a little faint.
“Hi! Don’t worry, I’ve had that bra for almost a year and I still manage to get stuck every now and then”, the girl chatters away as she steps closer. Louis stops breathing. “You just gotta get the hang of how to get out of it. Right, if you just turn around for me”, she says and promptly puts her hands on Louis’ shoulder, who instantly goes boneless, to position her how she’d like. “And then I just-“, expertly the girl unclips something, then tugs a little, and a moment later Louis sees the offending piece of underwear fall off her body and leave her completely bare-chested in front of the shop assistant who is still standing incredibly close. She doesn’t seem to mind, however, as she is currently busy looking around the fitting room with an amused expression on her face, taking in the chaos.
“Bit of a situation indeed. Bra shopping is terrible, isn’t it? Want some help?”
Louis just nods, staring at her own face in the mirror and trying to cover up by crossing her arms over her chest.
“Cool, let me just take one quick measurement”, the girl says and pulls a measuring tape from her back pocket. “Sorry, do you mind?” She holds it up and gestures towards Louis’ crossed arms. “You can cover up first if you want but might as well stay like that, you’ll be changing again in a few anyway.”
“No, sure, no problem um”, Louis stammers and a moment later the cool plastic of the measuring tape is on her skin and a soft flutter of long fingers. The sensation is gone after less than a minute, the girl stepping away from.
“So, what do you need a sports bra for? What sport?”
“Football. And um, just normal running I guess.”
“Right, so maximum support, gotcha. Just a second.” She whips away, leaving a stunned Louis shivering slightly in the air-conditioned shop. Telling herself to get it together, she starts picking up bras from the floor and puts them back on their respective hangers, banning all thoughts involving strawberry lips and the body parts she is currently trying to find clothes for from her mind. She almost succeeds.
“Found it! Try this one on, I have a good feeling about it!” The girl is back with a turquoise bra matching the shorts she is wearing which she hands over to Louis before stepping away again and closing the curtain.
It’s perfect. It fits, it’s easy to put on, there isn’t the tiniest bit of jiggle when Louis bounces up and down a few times, all while not being too tight. It’s like the heavens opened and some form of higher power bestowed this magical gift upon her. She’s pretty sure she can hear the faint singing of a choir of angels. Quickly, she strips out of it again, changes back into her own clothes and leaves the fitting room with a massive grin on her face. She almost trips over the girl who is sitting on the floor cross legged fiddling around with her shoelaces.
“I don’t know who you sold your soul to to find this but it’s perfect, thank you!”
“It was just a lucky guess to be honest, but I’m glad it fits. Do you need anything else or shall I ring you up?” She’s got up and is dusting off her bum while walking over to the checkout.
“Nope, all done, thank you.”
A few minutes later Louis is about to leave the shop, bra tucked safely in a bag under her arm, when the girl calls after her. “Hey, you said you run right? I was wondering if, like, you wanted to join me tomorrow morning? For a few laps around the park or something?”
After she was so confident earlier, she is the picture of shyness now, blush rising on her cheeks and teeth digging into her bottom lip as she fumbles with something on the till in front of her. Louis is so hopelessly endeared it takes her a moment to form a reply and even then it comes out a little breathless. “I’d love to!”
“Cool, meet me at eight at the duck pond?” And wow, when she said morning she really meant it apparently.
“Sure, see you tomorrow then! I’m Louis by the way.”
“Harry”, is the last thing Louis hears before she’s out on the street with a bra to die for and a feeling in her stomach like she could conquer the world.
*
Harry should’ve got Louis’ number. She checks her watch for the twentieth time in the past five minutes – ten to eight – and continues to nervously twirl her ponytail around her fingers. What if Louis doesn’t show up? What if she overslept or had a family emergency or decided she was going to stay in bed like a normal person on a Sunday morning? God, why did she invite her for a run this early, she must think Harry is some kind of fitness freak who completes three power pilates sessions before the sun’s even up.
Or maybe she doesn’t because with five minutes to spare Louis jogs up to her and after a moment of hesitation gives her a quick hug. She is wearing black running tights that hug every curve of her legs like they were made just for her and a white tank top open so low on both sides that part of her flat stomach is visible from where Harry is openly staring at her.
“Morning, ready to run?” Louis grins and lifts her arms to gather her hair in a bun, revealing the familiar turquoise bra under her top.
“Never been more ready. Park laps until we get bored and then we’ll decide where to go?”
Louis nods and takes off, shooting a “Catch me if you can!” over her shoulder. And lord, if Harry thought Louis looked good just standing in front of her she looks even better running. Her steps look light and effortless and Harry thinks if she tried to catch her she’d slip right through her fingers. Her legs set into motion and it doesn’t take long until she’s caught up to Louis, sparing her bum one last gaze before falling into step next to her.
They don’t talk much, both too focussed on their running or on impressing the other to risk being out of breath for a bit of small talk but there is plenty of talking when they leave the park and Harry takes a route that ends with both of them outside of Harry’s flat. And then there is a different kind of talking when she crowds Louis against her shower wall, after using the lame excuse of “showering together saves water”, and Louis thinks as much as she loves her new bra, she loves it even more when Harry peels it off and finally puts her hands on her.