with the looming burden of the upcoming string of footie games that are in their college's division, will harry styles and louis tomlinson, the most competitive players on the team, be qualified enough to develop an alliance together without annihil...
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Acquiring not even nearly a pep in his step, Harry Styles made a beeline towards the locker room, which was stationed so kindly at the other side of campus. He always had a secret grudge against the team of architects that had made the layout of said locker rooms, and solely because they thought it would be a brilliant idea to place them so inconveniently. He had his Powerade in his right hand, phone in his left, and bag slung over his back. He looked like a proper tramp, but who did he crave to impress at fucking footie practice?
Harry kept his head lowered and eyes narrow, just in case someone tried to spark up an unwanted conversation with him while he was focused on getting to practice on time.
"Jesus fuck," Slipped the Juniors' lips, almost immediately gaining concerned looks from passerby's.
He really couldn't care less, however. His eyes remained steady on the ground below him, and his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle with concentration. With that, Harry finally arrived on the grounds of the field and locker room.
With a certain speed he didn't have while on his journey to the field, he raced into the locker rooms. He always was on time to practice and any extra-curricular activities, but this was not one of those occasions. Tailing behind the clock by five minutes, Harry let out an exasperated sigh.
He sat his footie bag down on one of the benches, hastily pulling out his shoes and a bandana to push his long, curly, brown locks of hair out of his face. Harry believed strongly that his hair was, surely, his best feature- even though he adored his physique.
Grunting in annoyance, Harry slipped his shoes on. He was very close to losing his balance as each shoe was put on his foot, but he decided to ignore that factor for his sanity and well-being.
After he was sure that all of his needs were taken care of, he walked out of the locker rooms and onto the field. Almost directly, the image of Louis Tomlinson appeared in his peripheral vision.
That was an enormous thing that Harry needed desperately to be taken care of.
Louis caught Harry in his line of sight (coincidentally), and Harry could've sworn he was able to see the gears in Louis' pea-sized brain turning. The Tomlinson male trotted right up to Harry, and within moments, a hand was felt on his lower back.
With an unmistakably thick English accent, Louis began speaking, "Oi, Styles. Was beginning to think I finally managed to scare you off." Louis' hand slipped lower on Harry's body, positioning himself where he was sure no one could see the way he was touching Harry.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry pressed his side against Louis', closing the gap in between them. He only felt the eyes of his mates burning into the back of his skull like lasers as he engaged in the exchange between Louis and him. Harry split his lips with his tongue, narrowing his gaze at the golden-skinned male.
"With all due respect, Lou," Harry began, turning completely so that he was face-to-face with Louis, having a few inches on him as it was. They were so close that Harry could almost see the way Louis' eyelashes bent against the air that was coming out of his nose and mouth.
He leaned forward, trying to get eye-level with the other. "Bite me. Bite me so hard, you fucking twat."
With simply a turn on his heels, Harry made his way to the middle of the field where the rest of the team was running through their warmup drill. His head was focused on everything but football, which would eventually catch up to him.
He wanted nothing more than to put his hands all over Louis and shut him up for at least a few minutes- but he wasn't entirely sure if that was the only way he'd like his hands on Louis.
Louis gladly made his way over to the taller, toned male with nothing but an amused look on his face. He came up behind him, rested one of his hands on his shoulder and the other on his neck, and tilted Harry's head back.
Ah, shit.
"Don't look so enthused to see me, Styles. It isn't a good look on you," Louis quipped, leaning down to get level with the boy's ear. "If you aren't a total wanker today, I might give you a reward. Only, and I mean only if you're sweet to me." Louis placed a sneaky kiss on his earlobe and slid past Harry to get to his position.
They played the positions that would rely on each other the most, which brought, constantly, a lot of disagreements to the table.
It would always start because 'Harry wasn't giving Louis enough room to run the dish and kick drill', or 'Louis was cracking his back too loud'. It created an unbearable amount of sexual tension- all the yelling and arguing between them.
In fear of people's eyes being on him after the rather intimate action he had just supplied Harry with, he quickly called out to start the drill.
Captain of the team or not, everyone listened to him since he had quite the history in his earlier years in college. As you can imagine, Louis now being a Senior carried quite a reputation with him.
Louis was beyond exhausted from last night's frat party, hosted by the Apex Beast Beta (ABB for short). Of course, Louis was in that fraternity group and was practically the alpha male of it. He made the party themes and decided who was on the guest list or not. He was in charge, for lack of a better word.
Within moments, Niall Horan was tapping the pad of his finger repeatedly on Louis' defined shoulder, clearly in distress. "Loueh, fucking look at me. So stubborn, you absolute slut." Niall managed, making Louis turn around without hesitation.
Louis had an unreadable expression on his face, other than that anyone with eyes and the basic understanding of the human body could see that he was hungover. "Keep talking to me like that, Ni. Kinda sexy," Louis taunted, running his tongue over his top set of teeth.
There was no doubting that that was just banter and not sexual. Of course, Louis wasn't gay. Louis, while waiting his turn to demonstrate the drill at hand, always engaged in conversations with Niall. Niall was his hype-beast and best mate, and also the lad who settled the most disputes between Harry and Louis.
