So. Look.

Louis didn't plan this. He didn't, it just happened.

After he and Harry finished back at his place last Friday, Harry may have kicked him out and thrown the lube bottle at him as his revenge for Louis pinching his hips a bit too hard. He said he was sure he'd bruise, and Louis thought that was a bit unfair because Harry had actually enjoyed it at the time. Nonetheless, Harry was throwing him out and Louis was standing there with a bottle of lube, so he took it with him home.

What happens thereafter he can't be blamed for.

He may or may not have an obsessive compulsion to be better than Harry at absolutely everything, and that isn't his fault. But, as it is, everything means everything. So that's why he's here in this moment, half lying in the dark on his bed a Sunday night with the computer on his lap, staring at the homepage of a porn site.

This is entirely Harry's fault. Louis isn't even that much of a porn guy, really, but when he came home from Harry's a couple of days ago he was itching. Harry seemed like he knew stuff and Louis refuses to have lesser knowledge. Imagine being worse than Harry in bed. Jesus.

He went home that day, muttering about how Harry knew which lube were the good ones. He is still determined to surpass Harry in knowledge and experience. So here he finally is, having mustered up some courage and waited until everyone in the house is asleep.

To be completely honest, most of what he's seeing is scaring the fuck out of him. All he can see in the video descriptions are "Boy pussy gets bred by daddy" and there are pictures of people holding their partners upside down, using big ass (definitely no pun intended) dildos and spanking each other. Louis feels almost like he's cringing at the screen, blinking rapidly against the light.

He briefly thanks God (which he realizes could be somewhat inappropriate) Harry hasn't expressed any sort of interested in those things as of yet. Mostly it's freaking Louis out because he didn't know this is actual stuff that people do, and he has no experience in it at all. Does Harry expect him to hold him down and blindfold him? That doesn't actually seem that unappealing, but he's glad he was Harry's first. He can't be that experienced, come on now. It's only been a few weeks since that first time.

He exits the page, determined to find another. There has got to be home videos somewhere with people who look normal and not like famous, waxed porn stars hooked on muscle relaxers who belt fake, cringe-worthy moans.

He finally finds an amateur video of what appears to be a couple, seemingly not much older than himself, which he finds quite comforting. The light in the room of the video is dim, but the people are visible enough. The person who seems to be the top has got light blond hair and is lying down on the bed, getting snogged by the other lad, who's straddling his hips, knees bent at the top's ribs. The blond one underneath is groping the other's bum, which isn't that bad. Not that big, a little perky. It reminds him of Harry's.

The couple rolls over, and before Louis knows what's going on, the lad who's been underneath up until now is turning the other one over and is spreading his bum cheeks. Louis figures he'll get the lube, and for the first time he feels a real tingling sensation low in his belly. He's fingered Harry twice now, and it's something he's definitely enjoyed. Harry just... squirms and moans, helpless to the touch.

At first he doesn't understand what they're doing on the screen, but the blond one isn't getting the lube. Instead he's leaning down and plants a kiss against the bottom's hole.

So.

Louis did not know that's a thing.

He continues watching, pupils round as he stares at the guy licking and kissing the other man's arse. Part of him wonders what the hell he is doing watching something like this, but the rest of him feels flushed and warm.

It looks... quite pleasant. The moans escaping the bottom's lips don't sound faked in the slightest, and Louis suddenly wonders what Harry would sound like if Louis did that to him. Would he be into this?

He watches, feeling himself slowly go hard, mouth ajar and his breath getting more and more labored. He eventually pushes down his boxers, letting his cock breathe. He realizes he's never been this hard, like ever, and Jesus Christ, there has got to be more videos like this, right?

He gets off, replaying the shot where the blond dips his tongue into the other's arse, making him spill over his entire chest.

So.

Louis is into that, it seems.

**

The lads on the team are having a bit of banter when Louis comes into the locker room on Monday. Apparently Liam has a new girlfriend, and Jonny and Stan caught them kissing behind the old gym before lunch. Louis manages to catch up on the conversation quickly, interested in the gossip like everyone else.

"She's pretty, though," Lee says kindly, giving Liam a thumbs up.

"I know," he answers bashfully, a little blush starting at his throat.

"Careful, Li," Louis teases with a grin as he's pulling his shirt over his head. "You already seem whipped. If you don't watch out she'll have you on a leash," he jokes.

The lads laugh, and Liam rolls his eyes lightly. "Don't really care to be honest."

Louis quirks a brow, breaking into a smile while Stan laughs loudly. "She's that good in bed, yeah?"

Liam flips him off, and Louis frowns, about to open his mouth and tell Stan to stop being a dick when Harry interjects. "Hey. That's rude."

Louis looks his way, a little stunned. He didn't expect Harry to be that guy. He hasn't seen him all day either because he didn't show at homeroom this morning, but he's here now, sitting on the bench and pulling his sock over his shin guard, shirtless. For a moment Louis is reminded of the video he saw the previous night, and he bites his lip. He shakes his head at himself, but can't help but look at him. He eyes him quickly in his periphery, allowing himself to take in his toned upper body. He doesn't see any bruises on his hips, though. Told you, jackass.

For some reason the boys on the team seem to find Harry's words funny, though, and the room is filled with cackles.

"He says because he hasn't gotten a good lay in months," Stan laughs, and Jonny sits down on the bench next to Harry, dunking him on the back.

"Tell us Harry, when was the last time you pulled?"

Louis' heart beats just that much faster. Meanwhile, Harry shakes his head in annoyance, hair shadowing his eyes.

"That's none of your business," he says, throwing his jersey over his head. Normally, Louis would have rolled his eyes and called Harry a pussy or a proclaimed him a virgin for being so uptight about it, but now that actually he is the subject of Harry's sexual activities, he can't be anything other than thankful for his standards.

"Please. It's just us lads," Jonny grins, and Louis bites his cheek not to tell him off.

"I said it's none of you're business," Harry grits out, shrugging off Jonny's arm.

"Don't be such a puss, Harry."

Stan is one of the closest mates Louis' got on the team, but right now he needs to shut the fuck up. Louis bites his cheeks, keeping his eyes strictly on the shoe he's tying.

"Come on," the lads chant and Louis wants to smack them all with the fire extinguisher that's attached to the corner of the wall.

"Fine!" Harry suddenly exclaims and Louis stills. "Last week. And a fucking good shag as well."

And. Okay.

Louis looks up. His heart is racing, but he's immediately met with Harry's green eyes, and for a moment he feels completely lost. Harry's face looks grim, but his eyes are searching and not as hard as his face. Louis' mouth is just the slightest bit of ajar, and all he really wants to do is to grab his bag and run. He's never been good with handling problems. He's good with running, though. That he can do.

"Get your arses to practice," Louis yells suddenly, no idea where the words are coming from. He stands, grabbing a stray football from where it's resting on the floor. "We've got drills to run, lads!"

The team collectively roll their eyes and groan, but nonetheless gather their stuff and begin trudging out the door, knowing that Coach will check their attendance in a few minutes. Louis ends up last with Harry. It definitely wasn't his intention, but maybe it was Harry's because he strolls slowly next to him, not saying a word while the other lads are within earshot.

"You're not a good lay," Harry finally declares next to him as they're trailing behind the rest of the team.

Louis almost laughs. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Not at all."

"Glad you think so." Louis rolls his eyes. "Tell me that the next time you attack me."

"Today," Harry says, firmly. "After practice."

Louis' mouth falls open. That was not what Louis meant. Before he gets a word out, Harry is jogging up the field, barking out an order to get the lads warmed up.

And no, Louis thinks, as they're jogging around the pitch. This isn't going to do. Harry can't just tell him when they're going to meet up and "do it". What does he think this is? Some sort of insane soap opera? Mortal enemies with benefits? What the hell even is that? Louis shakes his head, running a hand over his face.

Nope, he thinks, when they're running drills. This is definitely not going to do. They're going to have to talk about this. They have to. Louis is not going to go on this crazy cruise of Harry's decisions. This is not going to be a thing. Harry is his arch nemesis. They absolutely loathe each other. The fact that they're having sex is some supernatural occurrence that Louis doesn't even think of as real.

He feels slightly on the verge of insane here.

After practice, Louis goes straight to the parking lot. Ten minutes later he is still waiting by Harry's car. Well, hiding. He's crouched behind his antagonist's Rover, feeling like an assassin on a mission. His fingers are drumming impatiently against the blindingly shiny bumper, and he can't hold back the roll of his eyes. Harry manages to bother him without even being present.

He finally hears footsteps nearing the car, so he sneaks a peak around the edge. Harry is approaching, hair newly wet from the shower, his bag thrown over his shoulder. He has time to unlock the car and open the door to the backseat, before Louis is jumping out and into his space.

"Jesus fuck, Louis," he groans, clutching his chest.

"You," Louis says through his teeth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him roughly with him around the car where they're hidden. "Talk. Now."

"What are you doing?" Harry complains, righting his shirt.

Louis grabs him by the ear and pulls him down to earth, or at least to match his own height.

"This thing going on between us," he gestures wildly with his other hand between them, "is not going to be a thing. I don't even know what it is we're doing here. One day you're all up on me and the next those green little eyes of yours are sending daggers into my skull," he says dramatically, and Harry sighs. Louis stomps his foot, making him gasp and crouch slightly. "This is weird – no, this is wrong, and we need to talk about it."

Harry arches a condescending eyebrow, still biting his cheek in pain. "Gay is wrong?"

"No!" Louis hisses. "You are wrong. This thing that is not a thing between us is wrong. It's insane is what it is! Somewhere there are dead kittens going batshit crazy in their graves – this is absurd and needs to be talked abou–"

Harry is grabbing his bum. His huge paws are on Louis' arse, pressing their crotches together, completely contradicting and undermining everything Louis just said. And he's smirking.

Louis glares, intending to push him off when he puts his hands against his chest. Except Harry uses that moment of movement to his advantage, rolling his hips into Louis' and making him gasp involuntarily.

"Styles," he warns angrily, still in Harry's grip. He's certain Harry's not listened to a word he's said.

"Tomlinson." Harry whispers, and squeezes his arse, digging his fingers into his thin footie shorts.

Fuck.

"This is not a thing," Louis repeats, slightly breathless.

"Yeah, yeah, Miss Principles. Now get in the car so I can blow you, yeah?"

Dammit.

Louis sighs, nails digging into Harry's bicep.

Harry opens the car door, lifts him up by the hips and lays him down on the beige, filthily expensive leather of the backseat, pulling down Louis' pants while Louis vows to aim at Harry's grossly rich interior design.

**

The next two months pass by in a blur, generally in the same manner. Louis hooks up with Harry on a pretty regular basis, most often when Harry corners him in the empty locker room and invites himself over to Louis' house the nights when his mum's working the shift, or when she isn't home during free periods, or twice, the back of his car. If they want to go all the way though, Louis' house is a prime choice.

Louis' got a packet of lube and condoms in his wallet everywhere he goes, because he's learned that Harry indeed is some kind of insatiable monster. Not that Louis isn't using the opportunity, because he is, but he used to be a bit classier about it... in the beginning at least.

October 27th

Louis: hi

Harry: what

Louis: do you want to meet up?

Harry: is this your polite way of inviting me to a sex orgy

Louis: no.

Harry: are you sure

Louis: yes

Harry: why are you texting then

Harry: ??

Harry: weak. Just ask me if you want to do it

Louis: Okay?

Harry: so....?

Louis: so?

Harry: Jesus fuck should I bring a bottle of lube after footie practice or not

Louis: oh my god

Louis: yes

November 9th

Louis: do you want to meet me

Harry: why

Louis: because...?

Harry: because ?

Louis: you know

Harry: I don't

Louis: quit it

Harry: you're such a baby

Harry: your house 9:30pm

November 21st

Louis: wanna fuck?

Harry: damn way to be classy...

Louis: you're such a dickhead

Harry: but you like me ☺

Louis: my house during lunch period. No bs.

Harry: can't wait sweetheart

Louis: fuck off

November 22nd

Harry: fuck?

Louis: I fucked you yesterday where is the patience why do you love me so much

Harry: ????

Louis: see you in 10

November 30th

Louis: ?

Harry: !

There are only about a handful of times Louis has instigated a meet-up, but he thinks that might only be since Harry is constantly keeping him on his toes, knowing that the boy is some sort of wild animal that can come at him at any time of day, whenever, and wherever. Apart from in public, that is. Louis is actually the only one of them being civil here. Harry can randomly grab him and pull him into a closet when he least expects it. At least Louis asks permission if he's going to give Harry a handjob.

In conclusion, Louis' pretty well fucked these days. And he's, like, good at it. Harry tends to come first, and both of their stamina has definitely improved, so he counts that as a success. He thinks his abs have gotten a bit more prominent these days too. He'll ask Lottie about it.

Ever since the porn incident, that video's been a thought hiding in the back of his head every time he hooks up with Harry. He's watched those videos a lot by himself, and it's probably the hottest thing he's seen. Girl porn is okay, but... those videos are something else.

Anyways.

Football is going extremely well. They haven't lost a single game this season, which is unheard of in the school team's history. Harry is still a pretentious asshole that Louis regularly wants to kick in the head. He still has the most awful ideas for the team and Louis still has to go out of his way to shut him down. Other than that, things are going kind of great. Louis is working his arse off to make this the best year the team has had so far, and thankfully Harry is putting in lot of effort as well. The lads on the team are very sharp this year, except from when they're dicking around in the locker room, while Louis is deeply focusing on not staring at Harry changing.

That's another thing. He might – might – have come to terms with finding Harry a little bit attractive. It's not like it's a big deal – he could have Harry on his knees for him with the snap of his fingers if he wanted. So.

It's only a month left until Christmas break and the schoolwork is piling up. Louis is constantly busy, having football practice, matches, homework, a job, and also a Harry to keep content. He's actually found that the more often they fuck, the easier it is to manipulate Harry into going with his decisions about the football team. His mood is usually that much better when he isn't "suffering from sexual frustration" as he's put it when he's texted Louis a few times.

"Why are you plotting Harry's death?" Niall asks him at lunch. It's Friday.

"What?" Louis scoffs.

"You're glaring. Not that that's unusual," Niall adds under his breath, and Louis sends him an indignant look. "You're hating him through your eyes. What did he do?"

"Nothing. I don't need a reason," Louis hisses, crossing his arms. Harry's currently standing on top of his lunch table, reenacting that time he was a total idiot.

"Is it because he scored two goals at the last away game and you only scored one?"

"No," Louis scoffs. Please. Louis doesn't get hung up on those things. Silly.

"Is it because he's dancing to Grease right now?"

"Grease is my favorite movie!" He exclaims, throwing his hands out. "He's making fun of it!"

"I doubt he remembers that you played Danny Zuko in eighth grade," Niall says lamely, chewing on his chips.

"Oh, please," Louis sneers, standing from the table. He hangs his bag over his shoulder, stalking away towards the exit. He walks by Harry's table, sending him a glare in passing. He's currently doing the hand jive.

"Hey!" Harry calls behind him, and Louis spins around.

"Please don't speak to me, you're disrespecting the entire Grease community with your dancing, and I am repulsed."

Harry chuckles. "Grease community," he says under his breath, and jumps down from the table. He puts his hands on his hips, starting to make the moves to 'You're the one that I want' towards him.

"I'm going to gag," Louis says. Why is he doing that. "Please stop, you're embarrassing the entire school."

"Why don't you show me how to do it then?" Harry asks cheekily, and Louis can see a few lads from the team and a couple of Harry's friends laugh. Harry leans in, whispering, "I know you can roll your hips..."

Louis gives him an affronted look, pulling back. "And if you don't stop, you won't know what that feels like anymore." He backs away, heading for the exit.

Niall catches up with him in the hallway. "I don't really understand what your deal is, but the two of you really seem to love hating each other."

"The only thing I love about Harry is that I don't have to be in his presence again until the match tonight."

**