Louis, Christ, I didn’t know you were into football players.

Harry is so bloody perfect and Louis is so fucking screwed.

Louis is going to annoy Harry into quitting.

"It is, though."

His hands are huge, powerful. Louis wants him.

Louis, Christ, I didn’t know you were into football players.

This is what his life has come to.

Harry grabs Louis' shoulder, growling in his face.

"Are you going to shut the fuck up while I fuck you?"

"Harry, come on."
"Harry, come."

Louis does not respond. He just knows.

Imagine being worse than Harry in bed. Jesus.

Louis thinks today might be okay.

"You practically begged me to fuck you."
"I didn't beg."

Louis wonders if their story is one of those, completely and utterly disappointing.

Congratulations, sweet cheeks.

"So, what’s on your mind then?"

He knows for a fact that he and Harry definitely aren’t cute. They hate each other. They’re not cute.

"Just worried about… stuff, you know?"

This cannot happen again. Because it’s gross.

He knows for a fact that he and Harry definitely aren’t cute. They hate each other. They’re not cute.

He and Harry are not friends.

Harry is one of the most important people in his life right now. He should have an emoji.

"Why can't you get your head out of your fucking arse and pass me the ball for once, huh?"

"You’re proper in love with him, aren’t you?"

"You’re proper in love with him, aren’t you?"

"Niall! I’ll be out in a second."

"Stop blaming anything but yourself. You're just a pussy, aren't you?"

"Are you really telling me what to do?"

"Don't say ditto."

"Ditto."

"Stop."

"It sounds like dildo."