Pre-note : Like 93.69% of you asked for possessive and jealous harry — and I do the complete opposite so get ready for jelly and possibly unreasonable louis !!

P.s LT1 baby. LT motherfucking 1.

CHECK THEIR INSTAGRAMS (gaynotdesperate and harrystyliar)

Louis' outfit: FENTY BY RIHANNA 

Louis is in the middle of helping one of his friends land a triple cartwheel with a spilt when something catches his eye. More like someone. That someone is a boy, he's a short, blond with freckles and from what he can see, hazel eyes.

Not only is Louis the immediately the slightest bit intimated by the unknown blond, but his eyes widen when he sees the boy walk up the bleachers and plop right next to Harry. His Harry.

The football player sets down his phone and completely faces the blond, without so much as a glance in Louis' direction. With Harry's position, he can't even see if the teen is smiling.

Louis' mouth drops open when the blonde reaches out and places a hand on Harry's thigh, just at that moment, the latter throws his head back laughing. Louis nearly has steam puffing from his ears when the blond leans in and kisses Harry's cheek, then stands and walks back down the bleachers.

"Practice is over." Louis faces his team.

"It's only 3:20." One of the cheerleaders say.

"It's cut short, we'll make up for lost time at next practice."

The cheerleaders say goodbye to him, some hugging him but he only halfheartedly hugs back. It isn't long before Louis is swinging his bag over his shoulder and carrying his speaker with one hand before making his way up the stairs of the bleachers until he's only a few from Harry who's still on his phone.

"So," Louis cocks a hip. "Who was that?"

Harry looks up, before going back to his phone. "Him? Just a friend."

"Really?" Louis raises an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty happy when he put his hand on your thigh, or you know, when he kissed your cheek." The cheerleader clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Ecstatic even."

"Louis, he was an old friend." Harry types on his phone and pocket it as he stands up. "Stop being like that."

"Like what?" Louis was getting impatient, for whatever reason.

"All... I don't know. Just come give me a kiss."

"Yeah, no." Louis rolls his eyes, no sass or even the hint of a smile to lessen the spite. "I'll see you later, Harry." Then he's walking back to the doors of the school.

"Wait! I was your ride here." Harry steps down the bleachers, following after his boyfriend. "How are you getting back home?"

"I'll walk!" Louis screams, louder and angrier than he meant. He knows Harry's only a few steps behind him and speeds up, swinging the door open and marching straight toward the locker room.

"You hate walking home!"

"Well right now, I hate you more!" Louis even turns around to glare at Harry, with his blue eyes in slits.

"Baby—" The locker room door slams shut and Harry lets out a deep breath. He slumps against the wall and waits, he'll wait however long it takes so he can explain himself to Louis.

Almost forty minutes later, Louis walks out of the locker room with his duffel bag swung over his shoulder and is wearing completely different clothes.

Louis' outfit: FENTY BY RIHANNA 

He walks past Harry and the football player notes his hair is wet, meaning he must've showered.

"Babycakes." Harry tries to get Louis to at least look at him, it's futile. "Louis, please." That's when Louis stops walking, they're just outside the doors of the school, and Harry can see his car in the distance. "Do you know how to get home from here?"

Louis glares at him and makes Harry's skin burn. "Obviously."

"Let me drive you home."

"No, leave me alone." Louis walks off again.

"Anthos, stop being difficult." Louis freezes again, and Harry finally catches up to him, and even reaches out a hand but the cheerleader doesn't make any moves to grab it. "I'll take you home."

"Who was he?"

"Who?"

"Stop acting dumb, it isn't cute right now." Louis crosses his arms. "Who was that blondie?"

Harry huffs, and shifts on his feet. "He's just an old friend."

Louis lost it. "Why can't you just tell me who he was? Why tip-toe around the question as if you've never answered one in your life."

"He's an ex." Harry raises his voice. "He was my first boyfriend."

"Name?"

"Sebastian."

"He's an ex and you're still close enough friends with him that he can kiss your cheek without a problem?" Louis juts out his chin.

"He was my first, Louis. There isn't a problem with that."

"He kissed your cheek. Probably wanted your lips, but he has shit aim." Louis raises his arms. "I don't want him near you if he's going to kiss you as if you're still together."

"It was just a cheek kiss, stop it."

"Actually, I don't want you near him if you're going to let him kiss you." Louis turns around. "Bye, Harry." Then he walks off.

Footsteps are quick to follow, trailing behind Louis just before a body appears in front of him. "Just... please. Let me drive you home."

It's quiet for a few moments, Louis with his arms crossed and cold glare set on Harry's forehead. "Fine."

The car ride is quiet, full of tension and frankly one of the most awkward encounters they've had. Harry keeps his hands to himself, except when he reaches to change the radio station just at the same time Louis decides to—their hands touch for a second before Harry rips his away. "Um, you can choose it."

And Louis does, he changes it to a country radio station and keeps his gaze locked outside the window.

They reach Louis' house almost too fast, and the boy doesn't leave right away as Harry thought. Instead, he faces Harry with his arms crossed still and breathes out.

"Sorry, that I'm so jealous."

Harry wants to touch Louis' skin but restrains himself. "It's okay. I guess I shouldn't have invited him to sit with me in the first place."

Louis' eyes narrow. "You invited your ex to sit next to you? He probably thought that was an excuse for him to touch you!"

Harry licks his lips. "Anthos, I'm sorry."

"I can't believe you, Styles." Louis shakes his head with a sigh. "We were doing so good—nice going."

Harry freezes. "Are you dumping me?"

Louis doesn't answer.