Bloodsport

chapter 6

For the rest of the day, Harry felt like he was walking on clouds. Relief was what it was. Arriving at school, he felt a tad braver striding across the parking lot. He was next to his best pal, and the feeling of just one person knowing and accepting his true self was overwhelmingly comforting. He felt better than usual as he fetched his books from his locker; Zayn was by his side, and he didn’t have to worry in case Jasmine popped up. At least, Zayn would already know if she decided to blurt it out.
Harry found himself leaning a bit further back in his seat in class, his breathing coming a little easier. His jaw couldn’t stop itself from chewing swiftly on the gum in his mouth, though. The stress hadn’t entirely evaporated, and it didn’t exactly help that Tomlinson loudly strode into class ten minutes late, brushing his training bag roughly into Harry’s arm as he passed his table. He sent Louis a glare, but subsequently decided not to engage. The guy was as self-absorbed as any other day of the week, and Harry didn’t want Louis to think he suddenly wanted to interact with him. He was used to Louis pestering him; he didn’t tend to seek Louis out to do the same.

Furthermore, Louis’ words from the other night were still ringing in his ears. As if you wouldn’t do it again. Was Louis actually thinking that Harry wanted to be in his proximity? Like at all? Was he actually that stupid? It had been a blur of sexual frustration, and simply the heat of the moment. Harry hadn’t forgotten the fact that Louis had practically bullied him for three years straight. He had more respect for himself than to be into someone like Louis Tomlinson.

Thankfully, Louis disappeared without hesitation after class. Since they didn’t have more lectures together that day, Harry didn’t have to worry about sharing his toxic space. He was fairly sure that Louis didn’t intend to talk to him at school, either, considering how the conversation had gone outside the pizza parlour. Louis had been frustratingly provocative as usual, but as soon as his friends had shown up, he’d shut his mouth and stridden off. Harry concluded that Louis wasn’t very interested in letting anyone know there was anything more than hate between them. Which there wasn’t, of course.

As the school day finally came to an end, Harry hurried towards the locker room. He spotted Louis already on the football pitch, running along the edges at a swift pace, as he reached the small building. He pushed inside the locker room, inhaling that slight bit of peace knowing that Jasmine wouldn’t be able to catch him in there. He took his time, as usual, making use of each and every last second. As he did, his mind ran over some ideas for the next day’s practice, recalling a couple of exercises he’d seen in a training video he’d found online the previous night.

“’Sup, mate,” he heard Ed’s voice at one point, followed by the greetings of the rest of the team as they entered, changed, and exited. By the time there were two minutes left until practice started, Harry grabbed his training jacket and bag and headed out to the pitch. He kept his eyes peeled for any group of girls, just in case.

Louis was standing at the edge of the grass, drinking from a water bottle. He was in the red training jersey like everybody else, each of the boys lighting up the green pitch in spots of Donny-red. Louis looked the same as everyone else, so why he instantaneously stood out in Harry’s vision was questionable. The guy looked like he always did — well, thinking about it, his hair was unusually vivid, perhaps affected by the humidity in the air. It kind of reminded Harry of how it had looked the day before… And then the memories were back in full effect; the warmth of Louis’ skin, the feel of his muscular legs between his, the way his breath felt in the crook of his shoulder. It had been a whole day since, and Harry could almost feel Louis’ fingers on his skin all over again.

Stop it, he thought. How could replaying those memories even be normal? He didn’t know anyone who’d slept with someone that repulsed them on a deeply personal level, so it wasn’t like he could find out. Louis was an idiot, so why did the way his hair look make Harry think about his naked stomach? Fuck’s sake.