"I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--" "Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy," Harry teases. "You haven't won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven't even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you've won." Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. "Trophies prove it all, Styles." "Where's your trophy for biggest asshole?" "Where's yours for winning cross country?" Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis' belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss. ( @sincehewaseighteen on AO3)