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The boys are all hanging out at Harry’s flat, who cooked dinner for the five of them. As per usual, Harry and Louis are arguing. The two don’t even know when the hatred for each other started, but they’re always at each other with snarky comments and biting insults. They try their best not to let it affect the band, because they really love the other boys, but it’s hard to constantly pretend to be best friends sometimes.
This particular night it’s when Louis starts collecting the dishes from dinner that the fighting starts. The older male gathers his mates’ plates, bringing them to the kitchen to wash. Harry doesn’t notice until he’s already gone and, annoyed, he goes after him.
“Jesus Christ, Louis, I can do it myself. It’s my house.” Harry snarls, snatching the plates away from Louis’ grasp.
Louis rolls his eyes, irritated, turning to face the other boy. “Relax, I’m just trying to be polite by helping you out. You always overreact to stupid shit like this.”
“See, you just did this to get a reaction from me!” Harry accuses, his voice raising.
“What the fuck, Harry? You’re a prick, I was just being nice.” Louis retorts, putting a hand on his hip sassily.
Harry’s about to reply when Niall, Liam and Zayn come into the kitchen, staring at the two with a mixture of annoyance and sadness.
“Guys, again?” Liam asks, sounding upset. “Can’t you just lay off each other for one night?”
“It’s his fault,” Harry insists, glaring at Louis, not caring if he sounds like a petulant child.
“This is what we’re talking about!” Niall exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief.
Harry doesn’t let up, though. “Well if he-“
“Enough,” Zayn interrupts coldly. “If you two are going to be like this, me and the lads are leaving. Right?”
The two boys standing next to Zayn nod their agreement.
“Look at that, Harry! You’re so hostile that our friends are leaving!” Louis says angrily.
“Well if you weren’t being such a prat you would’ve just let me take the dishes and we wouldn’t be in this situation!” Harry growls.
In the midst of their rage, they don’t even notice their friends sighing and grabbing their stuff, before leaving the flat.
“I wouldn’t let you? You’re such a hypocrite, I was the one who grabbed them, trying to be helpful no less, and you fucking went batshit insane! They’re just dishes! You’re just too prideful to let people do things for you!” Louis argues, face flushed with anger.
“Shut up!” Harry roars, crowding Louis against a wall.
“You’re just pissed because I’m right!” Louis yells back, shoving Harry away from him.
Harry, furious, slaps Louis across the face.
“Did you just slap me?” Louis screeches, bringing up a hand to cradle his cheek, red from the sting of Harry’s hand.
Harry seems to pause for a second, actual looking kind of repentant. “Shit, I didn’t-“
“You slapped me! You fucking slapped me!” Louis repeats, before barreling into Harry with all his force, trying to knock him down, his nerves hot with anger.
Harry, surprised, falls to the floor of his kitchen, Louis falling down on top of him. Louis, still in a fury, drives punches, over and over, into Harry’s chest, who just lies there and takes it, dazed. Louis’ pissed off and a million thoughts are running through his head so the punches are sloppy and weaken as he continues.
He doesn’t realize he’s straddling Harry until he stops punching and lets his head hang, breathing heavily from the exertion. He feels triumphant, though, because he finally got an upper hand over the younger boy. Harry’s looking at him differently now, though, his expression no longer angry and now looking something like… lust? That can’t be it though.
Harry smirks, then.
“You done?” He says nonchalantly seeming unfazed by the punches Louis hit him with.
Louis opens his mouth to retort with some witty and biting comment when he shifts and feels that he’s sitting on something hard, and - oh.
“Are you..are you getting off on this?” Louis asks in a disbelieving tone, eyes wide. “Are you hard?”
Harry has the decency to look embarrassed at that.
“Okay, I’m sorry, this was a silly argument ” Harry mumbles, looking anywhere but at Louis. “Please get off of me now and leave.”
“You are!”
“Get off!“
“No!” Louis shouts, irritated again. “You can’t just - just scream at me and slap me and - and then get a fucking boner while I’m on top of you - and then just ask me to leave!”
“Are you going to do something about it, then?” Harry asks, eyes challenging.
“Am I going to what?” Louis sounds scandalized.
“Do something.” Harry urges, eyebrow cocked.
Louis rolls his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking full of it!”
“Well it’s your fault!” Harry snaps back at him.
“My fault that you think with your dick? That all you care about is sex?!” Louis retorts. “Harry Womanizer Styles.”
“You dick, that’s not true!” Harry roars, angry again.
“Isn’t it?” Louis challenges, his fingers digging into Harry’s chest as they continue to fight it out, despite the compromising position they’re in. “What about Taylor, then? That girl from the club? That model? That cougar - what was her name?”
“Half of those were publicity stunts and you bloody know it! Christ, just shut the fuck up and get off me, Louis!” Harry shouts.
“Make me!” Louis screams back at him, just as loud and just as furious.
Suddenly, Harry rolls them both over on the floor so that he’s on top of Louis, shouting “fine!” as he does.
Putting all his frustration and fury into it, Harry presses his lips to Louis’, kissing him with a ferocious intensity. Louis gasps but kisses back, threading his fingers through Harry’s curls to pull his head down harder. The kiss is messy, their teeth clanking and their tongues intertwining chaotically.
Harry pulls back for a second, breathing heavily. “I fucking hate you,” He spits out, before resuming the fierce kiss.
Between kisses, Louis manages to get the words “The feeling’s mutual,” out, equally as breathless.
It escalates quickly from there. Before long, Harry is grinding down on Louis, pressing their groins together hard and fast and creating a delicious, dirty friction. Louis keeps letting out these breathy little moans into Harry’s mouth and it’s driving him insane, but he doesn’t let up with the grinding and doesn’t move on to anything else.
Louis gets impatient. “Damn Harry, will you just fucking fuck me already?” He hisses into the boy on top of him’s ear.
Harry growls, but doesn’t say anything, just scooches down Louis’ body and starts pulling off his shirt, biting a mark into each new patch of skin he exposes. He bites down hard into Louis’ collarbone when he gets the shirt off, sucking on the bite so that it’s big and a bright red, something that Louis - and the whole world if the boy wears shirts with a low enough neckline - will see later on.
Louis whines, a high noise from the back of his throat, and bucks his hips up, encouraging Harry to pull the boy’s trousers off as well. His pants follow soon after, and then he’s naked, while Harry remains completely dressed.
“Christ, get your damn kit off.” Louis says, voice lower than usual.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Harry orders, but he undresses anyways, getting his shirt removed, then fumbling clumsily with his belt buckle before he gets his trousers and his pants off.
Harry looks at Louis’ hard cock which is standing proudly against his stomach, an angry red and leaking pre-come.
“God, you’re just aching for it, aren’t you? Slut.” He taunts, licking his lips appraisingly.
“Yeah, I am actually, so get the fuck in me before I finish this off myself.” Louis threatens, but Harry knows he wouldn’t do that.
Still, Harry attends to his requests, pushing three of his fingers up to Louis’ lips and ordering him to “suck”. Louis does so obediently, gripping onto Harry’s wrist with two hands to get at them better, and slurping all three of his fingers into his mouth at a time. He swirls his tongue around them eagerly, making sure to coat them in his saliva.
“That’s enough,” Harry says, pulling his fingers out, before looking down at Louis’ body, following the boy’s sparse trail of hair down to his dick, and past that, his legs, which are pressed tightly together. “Spread your legs.”
When Louis doesn’t respond immediately, Harry grabs onto them and harshly pulls them apart, paying no mind to Louis’ squawk of protest.
“I said spread them.” He repeats, angry.
“Jesus, okay, just get your fucking fingers in me!” Louis yells.
Harry, pissed off, shoves two of his fingers into Louis at the same time. Ignoring the boy’s cries of pain, he works his fingers in and out of Louis’ tight hole, scissoring them and brushing down the velvety walls. Louis’ saliva doesn’t offer much lubrication, but Harry manages to work his long fingers at such an angle that the pleasure is quickly outweighing the pain.
When Harry finds that sweet bundle of nerves in Louis, the one that makes Louis release a quick, strangled cry, he smirks to himself.
“You’re so tight, Louis. It’s a shame that you’re such a bitch.”
Louis ignores Harry’s words in favour of grinding down on the younger boy’s hand, trying to work those long fingers into his prostate again.
“Fuck - more! Please!” Louis whines, high-pitched and desperate.
Harry grins, and tucks a third finger along with his other two.
“Who’s thinking with his dick now?” He mocks, speeding up the pace of his hand, trying to work Louis up the best he can.
“You prick - just shut up and - get in me.” Louis pants, both angry and aroused, his nerves on fire.
Harry’s face contorts into a snarl. “Fine.”
Harry hovers over Louis, a dark expression on his face.
“Since you want it so fucking badly, I’m just going to give it to you. I’m a womanizer, isn’t that what you said? And women don’t need prep like men do.”
Without any further preamble, Harry holds himself above Louis with one hand and uses the other to guide his dick to Louis’ entrance. He gently nudges the head of his cock at Louis’ rim, and then pushes. Once he’s got the crown in, he thrusts his hips, driving his shaft all the way into Louis, bottoming out. Louis screams - actually screams - in pain, his hands flying out to grab onto Harry’s back, his nails dragging paths down it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis curses, his eyes welling with tears from the pain, because shit, that burns so fucking much. “Shit, Harry, I fucking hate you. Shit, shit.”
A flash of concern crosses Harry’s face. He wanted to hurt Louis, but not like this, so he goes to pull out; Louis stops him though, muttering out a quick, “Don’t you fucking dare.”, despite his pained expression.
Harry just waits, and revels in the feel of Louis’ tight arse clenching around his cock.
Eventually, Louis nods. “Well go the fuck on then.” He says, voice gruff. “Don’t just do this halfway.”
“You little shit,” Harry hisses, and brings his hips back so that only the head of his cock is still in Louis, before slamming them back in.
He thrusts over and over again, shaking both of them back and forth with the force of his thrusts, but Louis still looks like he’s in pain. To fix it, he angles his hips downwards by raising his arse and drives his cock deep into Louis. He knows he’s hit that spot when Louis screams again, this time in pleasure.
Harry hitches Louis’ legs up on his shoulders so that he can get at that angle easier, and each push of his cock into Louis has the smaller boy crying out in pleasure. Louis’ thighs tremble at the exertion and he’s openly crying now, letting the tears streak down his face.
“C-close,” He chokes out, his whole body quivering.
Harry thrusts once, twice more and Louis’ coming, eyes squeezed shut and arse tightening impossibly as he spills hot liquid onto both his and Harry’s abdomens.
He whimpers as Harry’s thrusts continue, until Harry is joining him, pulling out and coming all over his arse.
“Fuck you,” Is all Louis says when Harry collapses onto the floor next to him.
“Yeah,” Harry says breathlessly.
They lie on the kitchen floor for what seems like an eternity, panting and out of breath, until both of their racing hearts calm and their able to speak coherently again.
“I still hate you,” Louis states, except this time, it feels a bit different coming out of his mouth.
“The feeling’s mutual.”