Unbelievers

Chapter 1.3

Louis doesn't really understand it, the Harry thing. He hates Harry, and Harry hates him. One moment Harry was spitting at Louis, and the next he was spitting on his fingers, opening himself up on the floor beneath him with lube he got from God knows where. Louis doesn't regret it per se, but he doesn't understand it. He wouldn't do it again.

Strangely, it doesn't seem to have affected their relationship at all. They still hate each other – that much was obvious last night outside the pizza place. Which is a good thing. Louis can't imagine life not hating Harry. No sneering in the hallway, no nasty comments in class, no threats during warm up, and no fights at half time. It's unimaginable.

Louis rolls over in bed Tuesday morning, the day after what will from now on be referred to as "the incident". He groans into his pillow, the noise turning into a half scream before he remembers that his mother is sleeping. The scream turns back into a muffled moan, and he scrunches his eyes up for a second. Fucking school.

He rolls over again, sitting up, hair disheveled and eyes grim. He throws the duvet off and gets up. He stares at himself for a second through the mirror on the opposite wall, squinting his eyes at his tired profile for a moment. If he were a vampire, maybe he wouldn't look like a fluffy pigeon each morning he woke up. He turns on his heel, and heads into the bathroom, leaving his beloved bed unoccupied.

His bed. Ah, his perfect bed. He doesn't have his own car like most of his classmates, he doesn't have a tv in his room, or a brand new computer, but he has his warm, big bed. They're practically married the two of them.

He takes a shower, shaves, puts on his clothes, and packs his footy practice gear. He goes down to the kitchen, briefly greeting Lottie who's already sipping on her tea at the table. Louis makes himself some and puts it in a to-go cup, one from the large supply he and Niall stole from Costa a long time ago when they were bored. They're far from criminals, but Louis admits, it was rather exciting.

It's not really weird that they hate each other, he thinks as he sips, Harry and he. Literally everything is different about them. Louis' loud and says things without thinking, burning in the moment of heat. Harry is mostly quiet and reserved, gazing, and his words are biting like frost. Louis' smaller, shorter, and Harry's shoulders are broad and he's tall. His eyes are deep green while Louis' are blue, his lips thin and Harry's mouth big and full. They should be living on different planets, honestly. God knows Louis' life would be easier if they did.

He takes the car to school, dropping Lottie off first and then parking in his usual spot in the school lot. He wonders if there will be any noticeable changes as he walks into homeroom, but the lovely glare from the other side of the room when he walks in reassures him there aren't. Ah, sweet sense of normalcy. And nobody seems to know he's had sex with a boy.

He's had sex with a boy.

If Harry even counts, which he doesn't. Harry's not even a boy. He looks like some kind of grown up man with a baby head. Kind of. In fact, Louis is forgetting it ever happened. Please, as if he ever laid a hand on him.

"Lou," Niall calls from the back of the room, and Louis saunters down the aisle to take the seat next to his. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as the teacher starts moaning about being on time, and for Niall not to act as if Louis actually was and stop disrupting class.

"When's the English assignment due again?" Louis asks quietly, pursing his lips.

Harry's chewing gum. It's quite annoying. Frankly, it's something that has disturbed Louis for the longest of time. He's obnoxious even in the way he chews. Long stretches of his jaw, won't keep his mouth shut and also talks like he's the most important person in the world. As if people are supposed to have time to listen to his slow, stupid drawl.