Stuck with Lou ✔️

Prologue

Louis Tomlinson hates Harry Styles, ok?

Established. Case closed.

But of fucking course, Harry also happens to be the co-captain of the football team.

Which, just so you know, is totally unfair. Louis worked hard for his spot on the team. For his role as captain. 

Harry, while he did work hard, didn't work as hard as Louis, and, everyone knows how much better Louis is than Harry. May it be at football, any sport really, fighting (based off the fact that, yes, Louis won in their fights. 8/10 times. Which, obviously, displays who is just overall- better.) or life in general- Louis Tomlinson always comes up top. He's better than Harry in every way. No matter how infuriated this makes the inferior. 

There is only one field Harry excels more than Louis in- and that's popularity- but, Louis doesn't care for copious amounts of friends. If he did, he would be more popular than the other boy. Louis, you see, prefers one or two close, trusted friends., rather than those two-faced wankers Harry hangs out with. He could quite easily make friends with them. But, ew.

Oh- and there's height, but that's just genetics, Harry couldn't of done anything- it's genetics fault he's a lanky sod.

So, Louis is just overall better. Period.

That being said, sometimes Harry likes to think he's better than Harry. However, it's completely false, and utter bullshit, crap, nonsense and idiocy. 

So, in conclusion, Louis is better, Harry likes to think he is better (but he's not. The duh goes unsaid... (Duh) He is in no way better), and Harry is tall, popular and overall a wanker. 

***

It is a well known fact that Louis hates Harry, Harry hates Louis, they hate each other. It's just- life. It's as factual as, let's say, 2+2=4. Can't be altered- no fucking way.

So how in the fucking world did Coach Corden think it would be a good idea to make them co-captains?

Co-captains means getting along, friendship, generally speaking without wanting to punch the other so hard in the face that they break their nose. Unting the team.  Being able to agree. Coach must me on drugs, then. 

Not, however, trying to kill each other at every given opportunity. 

6/10 at practice- bloodshed. Why? Harry punches Louis, Louis punches Harry, they punch each other. So, at least one of them get a nosebleed (or, that wonderful time he gave Harry a black eye.) 

So, it is quite obvious, he would of thought, that they hated each other.

Despised, even.

So, either coach had a screw loose, or for some odd, bizarre, bonkers reason thought that they might get along. 

So, practice, instead of being a nice, competitive affair, is filled with argument after argument.   What used to be civil, friendly matches, turns into high-stakes competitions to see who wins, usually punctuated (if they have the mis-fortune of being in the same team for a match.) "Oi! Wanker! Pass the damn ball!" Or, "Piss off!", something along those lines, anyway. 

Originally, they were made to run practice together. Horrible, horrible, horrible decision. They couldn't agree on anything- it's like, a less pig, more violent version of Snowball and Napoleon. They couldn't agree, and the team would watch practice turn to shambles. Complete and utter shambles.

So, coach let them run it separately. 

***

He was racing after the ball, weaving in and out of the jersey clad players. He was skilled, and he knew what he was doing. He was calm, cool, collect-

"OI! WANKER! PASS THE DAMN BALL." Of course. "DICKHEAD? HELLO?"

Or not.

They were playing a practice game, and of fucking course, Harry was in his team.

He flipped Harry off, continuing to be independent, he can do shit for himself, thank you very much. 

And, of course, that's just his luck... He got tackled. Lost the ball. Harry's facial expression made up for it.

"I told you to pass!" No, shit Sherlock. "If I tell you to fucking pass, you fucking pass! Why didn't you just listen?"

"When the fook do I listen to you?" Funny, isn't he. Hilarious. "Seriously, when do I?"

Harry stormed over. He would look intimidating, if it weren't for the hairband- which makes him look like a twat. 

Harry's large hands connected with his shoulders, making him stumble backwards, the air knocked out of him.

"The fook?"

He punched Harry square in the jaw, sending the other boy reeling backwards. 

"Oi!" Harry looked even angrier, his green eyes glittering darkly. "...That's it!"

Harry lunged at him, kicks and punches raining down on them both, limbs flailing. Louis didn't even want to fight (today). Well.

He managed to kick the other in the balls. Sending him tumbling to the ground, curled up in pain. Somehow, unbeknownst to him, Harry sent him flying into the grass, landing heavily in a heap.

"STYLES! TOMLINSON!" Fuck, it was coach. He looked angry, no wonder.

Fuck.

He stumbled to his feet. Turning to face the coach.

"Yes, sir?" He gave the coach a dazzling, I'm-totally-innocent-no-I-didn't-punch-the-wanker smile. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, funnily enough, Tomlinson. There is a problem." Oh, fuck. He's proper mad. "My office. Now. Help him up," he jerked a thumb at Harry, who was still sprawled on the ground. "I'll deal with you two in a minute."

He grudgingly helped Harry up, before, accidentally- of course, letting him go tumbling to the ground again.

"Oops?"

"TOMLINSON!"

"Ok- ok- fine." He helped Harry up again, this time keeping a grip on him, lest he unfortunately fall down again. Harry shrugged him off, before limping towards the changing rooms, and the office. "Fine- be like that." He stalked past the boy, 'accidentally' knocking into his shoulder. "Oops."

This'll be fun. He could hardly wait.

He entered the office, throwing himself on the non-Harry occupated chair (It'd be weird, though, if he didn't.)

"If you had of just listened, we wouldn't be here"

"Shut up, Harry, will you, for fookin once?"

"What if that had of been the last minute of a championship game, huh?" He was annoyingly relentless. "And we were down by one, huh? What would of happened then?"

"Just fook off."