Work Text:
Louis took a few deep breaths, jumping around on the spot as he waited for the rest of the team to take a seat. Coach Walker was already pacing between the benches lining either wall, and it was slightly distracting, but Louis had bigger things on his mind.
It was all a blur to him as they got ready to head to the field. Fist bumps and chest bumps and hair ruffles were exchanged as they lined up, making offhand jokes to hide their nerves. This was a big game. It had been years since the team had had a winning spree like this.
Winning all the games would be literally historic, the last time such an event having occurred being in the late 80s. If Louis remembered correctly, the team that had done so was dismantled when the university was merged with another. That would make theirs the only existing one to have won all the games in a season.
And, slightly selfishly, it would make him, as the captain, stand out in front of the scouts. He could feel the vague thumping of the music vibrating the floor under his feet as they hyped each other up, Coach Walker going over the strategies one final time.
He tuned it all out. They had been over the plan enough times, and it had been him and Liam who had planned it all out. They’d pulled an all nighter, hunched over Liam’s laptop in his dorm room as they went over the opposing team’s game videos, Louis noting down each player’s moves and tricks.
He always got like this before each game, his mind running away from him, fragments of possible worst-case scenarios flashing by, quick as lightning. It wasn’t that he was anxious. No, he would never call it that. He was just extremely excited- if excitement made him feel slightly queasy.
He had a plan for dealing with his ‘excitement’ though, stupid as it was. Zayn had been the one to start it, and he hated every second of it. But he would be lying if he said it didn’t work.
It had all started when he’d agreed to rewatch High School Musical with Zayn. Zayn had finally screwed up the courage to ask Liam over under the pretence of ‘movie night’. Louis had pointed out how that technically didn’t constitute a date, but Zayn had only shot him a dirty look. He then explained how he had then chickened out and decided that Louis would be the best person to keep them company until it all went well.
This was at the start of their first term, and Louis hadn’t known Liam as anything more than the tall, buff alpha who was always laughing over something at the back of the class. The one whom Zayn would spend entire lectures talking about, waxing lyrical over the crinkles by his eyes, and how straight his teeth were. It was all a bit much, but that was on Louis for having a literature major as his best friend.
Louis had said yes to Zayn’s proposition on a whim, ready to do whatever it took to make Zayn stop behaving like a lovesick teenager with his first crush. Even if it meant third-wheeling them on their ‘date’.
When he had finally talked to him, Louis thought Liam was arguably a great guy, though he would rather pull all his teeth out before accepting it in front of him now . They’d gotten along well, maybe a bit too well for Zayn’s liking, who kept kicking him in what he thought was an inconspicuous manner, especially once they’d started talking football.
But more importantly for Louis, Liam had also gotten along great with Zayn. Louis had left pronto. They had been going steady for the entirety of their stint at uni, which Louis thought was remarkable. He’d gotten on the football team with Liam, and they had a bit of a fake frenemies thing going on now. It was just how their dynamic had developed, but he trusted Liam completely, for all the ribbing he did.
Becoming the captain with Liam as his vice-captain was perhaps the best thing that had happened. (Ditto with the teeth-pulling on accepting that one, too)
But the point was: How would Louis have known that humming along under his breath to one single song would be interpreted as him having a thing for Zac Efron. Which had then stuck. In his defence, he was a theatre kid. Of course, he loved High School Musical! But Zac Efron? Louis wasn’t so sure about that.
A couple of months later, they’d been getting ready for one of their first games. Liam had brought it back up again, insisting that Louis at least hum if he wouldn’t sing along with him. In his surprise at having this sprung on him, Louis had agreed.
He didn’t know if it was Zac Efron, or the music or just having something to keep him distracted, but it had worked.
Grudgingly, he hummed under his breath, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his quads as they queued up in front of the door.
The game. He had to keep his head in the game.
He closed his eyes, shaking away the niggling feeling that something was going to go wrong, taking a deep breath when the doors opened, allowing the crisp, fresh smell of the pitch to fill up his lungs. The noise was deafening, music mingled with the cheers and boos of the crowd. The crunch of the damp grass beneath his cleats was familiar to him. It felt like his senses were dialled to an eleven but simultaneously, the rush of adrenaline was numbing everything out.
This was it. What they’d been waiting for. One game, and they’d be through to the finals.
Louis didn’t even wince when the opposing team’s captain enveloped his hand in a bone-crushing shake, simply keeping the cool smile plastered to his face as he stared back levelly. His nose involuntarily scrunched up at the noxious cloud of scents surrounding them as they huddled for the toss, a bitter tinge of animosity and defensiveness hanging heavy.
Louis felt a lump in his throat, but it wasn’t for the result. His eyes roved the bleachers as soon as he stepped back, hoping to catch a glimpse of their team’s cheerleaders. However, their team’s dusty blue did not stand out among the crowd, which was a sea of the home colours.
“Ogle later, the cheerleaders aren’t on yet, lad. Get your head in the game. Focus!” Liam whispered urgently against his ear, hand gripping his shoulder firmly as he pushed him back and Louis realised that he had been standing in the middle of the field, staring at the stands.
Louis flushed as he jogged back to take his position, nodding at the rest of the boys with a confidence he didn’t quite feel.
The air was knocked out of his lungs as they piled onto Oli, hands reaching to clap each other's backs. Their triumphant whoops and the school band’s trumpets echoed across the ground as they hoisted up the redhead onto their shoulders, carrying him to the benches where Coach Walker was standing and dumping him there. The plans of where the party would be held were already being set into motion, their team’s forward, Niall, being at the helm of all the planning.
Out of the corner of his eye, Louis noticed the opposing team sullenly making their way to the changing rooms, not even pausing to exchange the post-game formalities.
“Lou.”
Louis whipped his head back, a small smile creeping onto his face when he saw Zayn standing at the foot of the confetti-covered stairs.
“Zed!” He called, grinning wider as he held out his arms but Zayn seemed to be in a hurry. He pulled him away from the rest of the team, ducking his head as he whispered urgently. “I ran from the commentary box, and Miss Jones’ll probably have my arse on a plate if she finds out but I think you’d like to know this. They’re going to do a proper interview in a bit.”
Louis went to interrupt him but Zayn shushed him before he could actually get a word in, his hands flying around erratically, “Like a proper one, Louis! They’ve already got a list of questions and shit and they’ll probably tell you it’s for the magazine but I heard Miss Jones say that they’re planning to play a recording before the finals. In front of the scouts?! But of course, you know that already-” he rambled. The cool facade he usually had up in front of others was down for once, his excitement for his friend apparent, and Louis felt a rush of gratitude and fondness for him.
Before he could say anything, however, Zayn started making his way back to the commentary box, almost tripping over his own feet when he turned to shoot Louis a comforting smile and two thumbs up.
Louis shook his head fondly, wandering back to the fringe of where the team was still huddled, vaguely wondering why the University would want to play something like that.
In a couple of minutes, what seemed like the entire journalism team descended on him. One clipped a small mic onto his jersey while another instructed him to comb his fringe off his forehead; a third handed him a bottle full of something violently green.
Louis protested weakly, a bit shaken by the swiftness and efficiency of it all.
Louis was led to an impromptu backdrop with the team’s mascot emblazoned across it, squinting against the floodlights. He let out a little sound of surprise as a bottle blond practically appeared in front of him, shooting him a smile that showed off his veneers, standing too close for Louis’ comfort. A sickly sweet scent hung cloyingly thick in the air and he took a hasty step back, not even bothering to put up a pretence. Another omega, this one holding a camera, came close too, crowding Louis’ personal space as she gave him instructions.
Louis dug his nails into his palms, smiling stonily as he nodded, doing his best to ignore the blatant attempts of the omega interviewing him to scent him. It was all a bit ridiculous, frankly. Who even seduced people by scenting them? In a public space, no less. He thought that sort of thing only happened in B-movies and cringey teen novels. Louis simply chose to pretend to listen to the instructions, nodding and humming and regular intervals, his complete attention devoted to scanning the stands.
His gaze caught on a familiar mop of brown curls, adorned right now with a powder blue satin headband. Their team’s signature blue uniform was stretched obscenely over a wide back, muscles rippling as the figure skipped on the spot. Realistically, Louis later denied it as being impossible. But in the moment, he could’ve sworn he saw the glimmer of blue glitter polish on his fingers. The same one he’d helped pick out over their dimly lit video call the previous night.
The sight made his mouth go dry, feeling the blood thrumming behind his eyes. Louis’ gaze was fixed on how his toned thighs moved under the small billowy skirt as he moved around, engaged in an animated conversation. The corner of it lifted just enough for Louis to glimpse the gentle swell underneath and his mind went back to-
“Lewis?” A voice interrupted his musings.
“It’s Lou-eeh,” he emphasised, doing his best not to roll his eyes. He felt a soft hand around his waist and turned, ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind. “I swear to-”
“Oh, Zayn. It’s you," he said sheepishly.
“Who else- Mate, no one else would try to touch you,” Zayn shrugged, “Not without getting their teeth knocked out, at least. By you and by H-”
“Zip it,” Louis warned from between gritted teeth.
The interview passed in a blur. The rest of the team gathered around him, goofing off as they recounted the game for the camera. Louis’ attention, however, was still on the cheerleader. His hair was now haphazardly pulled up into a ponytail, a matching scrunchie adorning it. Louis felt a surge of fondness, and a small smile appeared on his face.
“Can’t you keep your eyes off of him for a couple more minutes?” Liam hissed, a little irritated, “We just won the most important game this season and all you can think about is-”
“I wouldn’t complete that sentence if I was you, Lima,” Louis interrupted, nickname slipping out, letting Liam know he wasn’t truly mad, just… missing his alpha.
“Whatever you say, Boobear,” Liam chuckled as Louis swiped at him, ducking and throwing his hands up in faux surrender.
As soon as they got to the changing rooms, Louis impatiently tossed his bag onto the benches lining the sides. He rolled his neck, joints cracking pleasantly as he grabbed a towel from the lockers and headed to the showers. He reached out, flicking the lights on when-
“Don’t have to act so furtive, babe,” A voice drawled out, chuckling. And Louis would’ve jumped, had the voice and the routine not been so familiar to him. After nearly every game, they’d meet up like this, more often than not ending up in one of their dorms, ditching the post-game celebrations.
Louis turned around with the full intention of throwing himself at the man, knees locking on the spot at the sight he was met with. His skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat, hair now loosely gathered into a bun at the nape of his neck, an errant curl escaping and brushing against his cheek. His lips shone with a fresh coat of lipgloss and Louis unconsciously bit down on his own lips, tongue darting out to smooth over the indent as he took in his hands, long fingers lazily tapping against his forearm and noticed vaguely that he had been right about the blue polish.
For some reason, he found himself remembering when he’d watched the cheer team tryouts by the bleachers. The way the little group had dissipated when he’d come through, all dimples and giggles. The little hush initially, he didn’t exactly look like he dreamt of being a cheerleader, but also the raucous applause when he’d pulled off a series of backflips, even from the boys on the field.
His hair had been shorter then, but it was still the same effervescent energy that had drawn Louis to him. The slow, deep drawl, interspersed with chuckles that Louis could’ve sworn he heard across-
“Are you just going to keep staring, babe?”
Louis lunged forward, colliding strongly enough to send the man stumbling back a few steps. His insides twisted as he felt arms firmly wrapping around him. It hadn’t been more than 12 hours since he last met him but he wanted to be there, to celebrate with him. It was something of a tradition at this point. One that he wasn’t keen on letting go of.
He could hear the rest of the team bustling around, loud banter and party planning in full swing, voices echoing against the low ceiling. He found he couldn’t care less.
Louis buried his face in the crook of the other alpha's neck, shamelessly taking in his scent. He smelled like home- well, technically he smelled like the countryside after rain and something vaguely like smoke that Louis could never put his finger on, but Louis was a romantic and he couldn’t care less as he pressed a small kiss to his bondmark.
“Harry,” Louis finally breathed out when he extricated himself. He placed his hands on the taller man's waist as he took him in - how the top of the uniform stretched almost sinfully against his pecs, skirt flaring out from his tapered waist. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you, darling. But tonight,” Harry whispered, gently brushing Louis’ fringe from his forehead and leaning down until their lips were almost brushing. “Tonight was all about you. You played so well for me, baby. So, so well.”
He pressed his lips against Louis’ and he melted into the touch, giving in to the sweet insistence. He sighed and Harry took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, hand enveloping the back of Louis’ neck.
Louis tried to pull Harry closer, wanting their bodies pressed up against each other but Harry wouldn’t budge. He pulled away with a whine, pouting slightly. Harry kept his face impassive, but the slight arch to his eyebrows betrayed him to Louis.
Louis knew what was coming but a gasp left his lips nonetheless as Harry suddenly flipped them around. Louis’ back was flush against the cold metal of the lockers and all the air was knocked out of his lungs as he felt Harry lodge his knee between his thighs.
He hoped the metallic clang wasn’t as loud as it had seemed to him. And whatever the sound that escaped his lips was. Sure, as middle-school as it was, they’d made out against the lockers before, the rest of the team present on a few occasions but this time… Felt different. There was something about Harry. Something like a barely restrained nervous energy. Not nervous, no. On edge.
There was something he had planned and even the thought of it had Louis’ breath catching in his throat. Harry’s hands enveloped his wrists, and he was effectively locked against the lockers. He could feel blood thrumming where Harry’s fingertips were pressing in, and he was buzzing with anticipation.
He loved how inherently sweet Harry was, yes. How kind he was. But when he got worked up like this- a glance at his eyes, stormy and blown, and Louis ducked his gaze down again.
Harry jerked his knee up slightly, then pressed forward, breath hot on Louis’ skin, mouthing along his earlobe, pausing to nibble, then licking against the slightly numb spot. Goosebumps prickled along his neck, and he already felt a little light-headed.
A particularly loud laugh from the other side of the lockers jerked him back. He’d almost forgotten where they were.
“Please,” Louis said, the single word costing him more effort than he’d thought it would. He wasn’t sure himself what he was asking for. More? Less? Not here?
Either way, Harry simply hummed in reply, continuing to mouth at any exposed skin he could reach, licking up the beads of sweat collected near his hairline. When he continued down the side of his neck, teeth grazing ever so lightly over his bondmark, Louis dug his nails into Harry’s back, slipping against the smooth spandex.
“Harry,” Louis whined. “Please. Shit, babe. They’re right there. ”
“Such a big boy now, aren’t you?” Harry whispered, ignoring Louis completely, dragging his thumb along Louis’ cheekbone and resting at the corner of his lip. “I mean, you won, sure. Won and couldn’t even be bothered to wave to me, let alone blow me a kiss.”
“And then -” he hissed before Louis could choke out an explanation, voice getting lower. Louis hoped it wasn’t carrying through across to the other side. “Then I had to see that blond practically throw himself at you,” he tutted. “How d’you think that felt, baby?”
Louis found he could barely breathe, let alone string together words coherently enough to form a sentence. He felt overwhelmed, buzzing with energy, but his knees were weak already. He was sure they’d be trembling had Harry not had him pinned.
“Can’t even find the words?” Harry pouted. “How do you think that made me feel, Louis? To see someone try to make a move on my alpha, ” he repeated, stressing the last words as he canted his hips forward. Louis gasped when he felt the other man’s half-hard cock pressing up against his thigh.
“I just- I’m sorry,” Louis choked out, arms slightly numb from being held up.
“And what will I do with your apology, baby?” Harry whispered as he let go of his wrists, bringing them to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to each before sitting down so that Louis was standing between his spread legs.
Harry’s face was exactly in front of his crotch, and the fact was not lost on Louis.
Harry stared up calmly, holding Louis’ gaze. Louis’ inner alpha was a mess, his stomach twisting with pure want . He wanted nothing more than to give in, enjoyed nothing more than completely surrendering to Harry, to his alpha . But a part of him, a part he hated vehemently, a part he wanted to get rid of, was always in resistance.
Not to mention the fact they were still in the changing room. In the corner, behind a wall of lockers, sure, but anyone could walk in and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The zip that went through his spine had to be apprehension, right?
Harry’s scent, usually calming to him, felt like it was setting his teeth on edge, making him feel like raising his hackles. And Louis could not have hated it more. They had talked about it, early on, and it was the same for Harry, but he seemed much better at controlling it than Louis was. Louis wished it would come to him just as easy, not to put weight on their secondary gender. To let them be just them .
Harry placed his hands on Louis’ hips, squeezing firmly but gently. He must have caught on to where Louis’ mind was headed, and Louis was thankful for once for how easily Harry could read him. The touch grounding him, he pushed all thoughts to the side, allowing himself to be guided down to his knees.
“Lou, darling,” Harry whispered, the wall of indifference he’d put up dissolving, concern lacing his voice. “You don’t have to do this, okay? We can go back, if you’d like, or-” He broke off, tangling his fingers in Louis’ hair as he nestled his face into the vee of Harry’s thighs, his breath warm and tickling.
Louis was banking on no one wanting to take a shower. He wasn’t sure it was the best decision, really, but he was kneeling in front of his alpha . He’d be alright, wouldn’t he? He wasn’t thinking straight, yes, but his senses were clouded by Harry. Harry’s scent and his warmth and-
Harry’s fingers were scratching along his scalp, and Louis melted into the touch, puffing out a content breath against his thigh. Harry allowed Louis a few moments before tugging lightly on his hair, resting his hand at the nape of his neck. Louis moaned lowly in resistance, then lifted his head, blinking up at the alpha. He already felt a little spacey, but when Harry shot him a small smile, the promise of it was not lost on Louis.
He scrambled to push Harry’s skirt up, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He caught it between his teeth, hissing when he saw the matching blue lace panties Harry had on. He noticed how the head of his cock was just barely peeking out over the waistband, half hard, the underside pressed up against the soft mesh at the front. Not even waiting for instructions he leaned forward, nosing along the elastic circling his thighs, his scent much stronger and mustier here.
Harry exhaled raggedly when Louis flattened his tongue over the mesh, savouring the slight salt of his sweat as he traced the vein up, stopping just short of the head. Louis could make out the small scar on the underside of Harry’s chin when he glanced up, the angle of his jaw he leant his head back against the wall.
“Did I tell you… to stop?” Harry gritted out, stern despite how breathless he sounded and Louis meekly drew his gaze away, tugging lightly at the waistband of the panties. As much as he loved how the lace looked pressed against Harry’s pale skin, a few curls peeking out, right now he wanted them out of the way. He wanted a taste.
His breathing was shaky, his cock resting against his thigh and he could feel the damp spot of his precum on his shorts. All it had taken was the simple act of submitting to his alpha to calm his inner alpha down.
“My pretty little alpha,” Harry rumbled, his fingers spread against the wooden bench as he lifted his hips up, letting Louis pull his panties down. Louis’ breath choked slightly. All these months and he still got struck dumb at the simple beauty of his actions. He wasn’t wearing his rings, but there were tan marks on his fingers from where he generally did. His fingers, fuck. Louis exhaled shakily. Long and elegant, spread apart…
“Louis?” Harry teased, wiggling his hips slightly.
“Um- yeah. I just- Got distracted.” Louis stuttered, tossing the balled-up lace onto his bag. Harry beamed back, relaxing against the wall as he kept his skirt held under his elbows.
Louis swiped his thumb across the slit, collecting the drop of precum glistening in the harsh light, maintaining eye contact as he brought it up to his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks around it, moaning theatrically as he leaned back, jerking his hips up into thin air, knowing that the imprint of his cock must be apparent under the thin polyester. He heard the alpha swear under his breath and smiled smugly to himself.
“Baby, you’re testing my patience,” Harry hissed, jaw clenched.
Louis smirked back and licked his lips before pointing his tongue out, running it around the head as he loosely circled the base, pubes tickling his hand slightly. He knew he was playing with fire, teasing the other alpha this way, but he didn’t feel like giving in that easily.
Louis could almost feel the undercurrent of Harry’s irritation, how he was holding back and he was savouring it. The dynamic of Harry topping him, of him being on his knees but still being in control made him light-headed. As he rut against his own thigh, the smooth fabric providing him nothing near the stimulation he needed, he could see how it was affecting Harry too, despite all his attempts at hiding it, a flush creeping up his neck.
Not wanting to push his luck too much, Louis leaned down, taking just the tip in his mouth as he moved his tongue, toeing the line they’d set down.
“Such a good little boy for me,” Harry said, exhaling deeply. “Fuck, my pretty little alpha, aren’t you? All mine. Mine to-”
“Louis?” A voice called out from across the room.
Shit. Louis’ teeth almost grazed Harry as he jumped at the sudden noise, but Harry threaded his fingers into Louis’ hair, holding him down. Louis went to pull his head back, resisting slightly, but Harry was insistent.
“Keep sucking,” Harry instructed, keeping his hand firmly on the nape of Louis’ neck.
Louis didn’t move, feeling frozen. His heart was thumping wildly, knees throbbing against the cold tiles. Shit, shit. Anyone could come in and-
“Liam,” Harry called back, sounding a bit too pleased for Louis’ taste. “Louis’ um… Otherwise occupied. He’ll be a while, I think. ‘S there anything you-”
Louis decided two could play at that game, balling a fist as he bobbed his head down in one smooth motion, trying to breathe in slowly through his nose. The weight on his tongue was so familiar, his lips just brushing against Harry’s swelling knot.
Harry yelped, then instantly regained his composure as he covered it up, carrying on as though nothing had happened.
Louis could make out Liam’s concerned voice and he felt an unprecedented joy at Harry scrambling to answer. Louis hummed as he moved his head faster, palming himself over his shorts and gripping Harry’s hip with the other, digging his nails in on purpose.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine.”
Why was he still even talking to Liam? Louis felt a flash of annoyance, making a mental note to talk to him later. More voices joined in, with Liam sounding more urgent now.
Liam’s voice got closer and out of the corner of his eye he could make out his shadowy figure crossing into the showers. He seemed to move in slow motion, his voice getting louder and Louis could now make out the words. “-His mic’s still on, mate. They nearly broadcasted that all over the field and-”
He interrupted himself with a cry that would've been comical to Louis had he not been on his knees. It was quite like the surprised shouts he tried to coax out of him whenever he pranked him, but this time Louis wasn’t on the pranking end.
Liam backed away as fast as he'd bounded in, a stream of apologies issuing from his mouth. Louis could feel the burn rising up his skin, feeling short of breath around Harry's cock, trying not to graze him with his teeth as he levelled himself.
The voices were asking Liam why he'd rushed back- He didn't catch Liam's explanation but then Oli said something about asking Louis to join the party. Liam blustered in before Harry could say anything, saying he'd join once he was free. Free from what, Louis wondered. What was it that they thought he was busy with, back here.
Harry reached for the small mic still clipped to the front of Louis’ shirt and tossed it off to the side, chuckling under his breath. He placed his hand on the back of Louis’ neck again, and Louis felt goosebumps erupt all over him.
He couldn’t move at all. Fuck. He was stuck. Kneeling in front of his alpha. On the floor of the dressing room. And Harry was talking to his teammates as though he wasn’t even there.
He wasn’t sure why the rest of the team were talking from behind the lockers- They had no reason to not just come in and talk, they’d done that a fair few times. Harry hanging out post games was nothing new. Him and the whole cheer team.
He could imagine Liam struggling for an explanation, herding them away. What if everyone had caught on. What if they knew he was right here, on his knees and spread out for his Alpha and- Just thinking about it sent a delicious zip down his spine. Harry kept talking, and tears stung Louis’ eyes. He wasn’t quite gagging, but he felt filthy already- Used.
Harry called over the lockers, assuring them in a sweet, almost simpering voice, that Louis would be there soon. Louis would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been choking on Harry’s dick, spit and precum coating his chin.
“If you love sucking my cock so much, Louis, you can fucking stay that way, okay? Keep me warm until I’m done talking. Don’t even move,” he instructed and went back to talking to the boys, now discussing where the party was.
Louis could only assume Harry’s voice had been low enough for it to not carry. He blushed at the alternative. At Harry declaring it for anyone to hear. Want pooled in his belly and he desperately needed some- Any stimulation at all, but he couldn’t risk moving. He already knew he’d be in for it once Harry was done talking to the boys. For now, he simply stayed as instructed to, breathing deeply through his nose as he tuned out what Harry was saying.
“Such a good boy for me. My pretty little alpha,”
Louis exhaled contentedly, opening his eyes blearily against the fluorescents on the ceiling. Upside down egg cartons, he thought, how outdated. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d closed his eyes. The ache in his jaw and the numbness in his knees felt like it had been forever, but common sense told him otherwise.
Louis hesitantly relaxed his jaw, moving up slightly, watching Harry’s face closely. The alpha showed no signs of disapproval, and Louis wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Harry grasped his hair at the nape of his neck and tugged lightly, groaning when Louis pulled off.
“Bet you loved being my little knotslut, huh?” Harry said, pressing his thumb against Louis’ bottom lip, smiling slightly when his tongue darted out to lick little circles along the pad. “Loved knowing that the team was right there, didn’t you? You would’ve stayed there even if they’d seen, hm? Let everyone know who you belong to?”
Louis didn’t answer, but he was sure the way he gulped told Harry all he needed to know.
“Alright, up. And clothes off,” Harry instructed, drawing his thumb out gently, sucking on it with a small smirk before reaching for Louis’ bag, going through its contents.
Louis stood up, knees cracking as he flexed his legs. Harry’s cock was resting against his thigh, shining dully. Louis bit his lip when Harry saw him watching, making an impatient motion with his hand for Louis to hurry up. He tugged his jersey off, discarding it carelessly but Harry shook his head, jerking his chin towards the material pooled on the floor.
Louis picked it up, standing there a bit awkwardly, shirt balled up in his hands. Harry was busy rifling through his bag, and Louis didn’t want to interrupt. His knees were already feeling it, and he had no wishes to make it worse.
A couple of seconds later Harry glanced up, making a disappointed ‘tsk’ sound. “Lay it down, properly,” He said, motioning at his feet in front of the bench. Louis spread it out in front of the bench, between his spread feet, then hastily pulled off his shorts, placing them over the t-shirt.
Harry pulled out a bottle of lube from Louis’ bag, then squirted a fair dollop of it onto his hand, wrapping it lazily around himself, leaning back against the lockers. His eyes raked over Louis as he pulled his pants off. Louis felt a blush creep up his chest, and he gnawed at his bottom lip, cheeks burning furiously.
He made to kneel in front of Harry again but the alpha shook his head gently. He stood up and Louis watched with some disappointment as his skirt fell down. Suddenly Harry was pressing up against Louis, hand splayed against the small of his back.
He pressed his lips behind Louis’ ear, trailing down to the soft flesh where his neck met his right shoulder. His teeth were sinking in and Louis melted into him, hands eagerly gripping onto his hips. He could feel the pain shooting out, tendrils of flame rushing across his skin. But the burn had never felt so good.
Harry smoothed his tongue over the mark, cooling off as soon as the air hit his skin. “I’d mark you up all over, Louis, you taste divine,” He said, slurring his words slightly. “Can't wait any more, though. Want you to kneel and bend over the bench for me.” He murmured against Louis’ skin, sending goosebumps down his side. “Use the bag, if you feel like it. Don’t want you getting bruised, okay?”
His hands were roaming across Louis’ chest, pinching and grabbing and smoothing and Louis felt like putty, taking a few steps forward and kneeling on the shirt. He could barely feel the edge of the bench digging into his chest, the metal was cold against his temple and cheek. He was sweating profusely, but a shudder went through him nonetheless as air touched his entrance, clenching around thin air.
Harry chuckled under his breath at the sight, settling down behind him, between his spread legs, but not quite touching him. His fingers were digging into his hips as he leaned forward, breath tickling against the small of his back. Harry's tongue darted out, licking up the sweat pooled at the base of his spine and Louis arched into the touch. The edge of the bench was now pressed uncomfortably hard against his ribs, and he was about to say something, but Harry chose that moment to start kneading the flesh of his arse, taking hungry handfuls, rough and urgent.
He kept pressing kisses against Louis' back, tongue darting out every so often to pick up the sweat coating his skin, moaning lowly at the taste. His thumb was tantalisingly close to his entrance, and he shifted his hips around, but Harry tutted, drawing his hand away.
He heard the sharp slap echo around the room before he actually felt the burn spread up his skin. It was more about the embarrassment of being reprimanded than the actual pain, but he felt his skin prickle, heated blush rising.
“You take what I give you, alright, babe?” Harry murmured, nosing along his crack now, then flattening his tongue and licking a broad stripe up. Louis was certain there would be stark outlines of his fingers all over his ass the next day.
He wasn't sure how long Harry teased him, licking and touching and breathing on every bit of skin except where he wanted, needed him to. When he finally gave in, tongue swirling and teeth nipping, cheeks spread apart, obscene sounds dripping from his mouth a match for the sinuous movements of his tongue, Louis’ legs almost gave out.
It was nothing near what he needed and he was about to whine about it, but Harry drew his finger up from his balls, nail scratching lightly against his taint. And oh- They were still slick from the lube he'd used earlier, nowhere near enough what he'd need but enough for him to feel the glide. He knew Harry was stretching it out, prolonging it as long as he could, wanting to see how far he could push Louis before he'd break and give in and he was determined not to.
Harry moved up, pressing a kiss between Louis' shoulder blades, and in one smooth motion grabbed the lube.
Louis was waiting for the cold to hit him, but he felt Harry's fingers wrapping gently around his throat instead. The alpha increased the pressure slightly, fingers digging into his skin as he motioned for Louis to raise his torso off the bench, his back flush against Harry's chest, feeling the slippery material of his cheer uniform soaked through with sweat.
“Told you to use the bag, Louis,” Harry said in a voice low enough to be a whisper. His fingers were trailing across Louis' ribs, the other hand still wound around his neck. Louis tried his best to not strain against the hold as he glanced downwards, an angry red welt across his chest. In a curiously detached way, he noticed it was throbbing dully.
“Louis,” Harry said again, firmer this time. His palm was flush against the sweat sticky skin of his throat, tips of his fingers brushing Louis' jaw and tilting his face back against his shoulder. “Did I tell you to use the bag or not.” It was more a statement than a question, disapproval apparent in his voice. “Can't even follow one simple instruction, huh? D'you think I want these marks on you?” His voice softened as he brushed his fingers against the offending stretch of skin.
Louis couldn't even answer. Harry was quick and concise, pulling the bag towards him and pushing Louis down, not exactly gentle, but not rough enough to hurt him any further.
“If you’re that desperate for it, baby, you could’ve just told me,” Harry teased, the smile on his face that Louis couldn’t see apparent in his voice. Louis' breath caught in his throat as Harry started spreading him open. He wasn't being patient, and Louis wasn't used to the burn.
It was usually Harry who liked the stretch, the glimmer of pain. But right now, all his patience was lost as he kept his fingers moving, dirty sounding wet squelches loud in the room. Harry kept a string of filthy words dropping from his lips as he worked Louis open, his tone doing nothing to calm him down.
Louis was positive he was red all over, sweat coating his skin, a ball of want, of need tight in his belly. Harry was curling his fingers now, and despite the stretch, he felt empty. He whined, almost involuntarily and Harry chuckled darkly under his breath. Louis couldn't make out what he'd whispered over the sounds of his own ragged breaths and pants.
He felt the familiar blunt pressure, and the next second, his head dropped onto the bench, incoherently moaning. Harry's fingers were digging into his hips, and he could just feel pubes tickling his skin- Harry jerked his hips sharply, and Louis' moan wasn't entirely that of pleasure, but a warmth was flooding through him.
He was clenching helplessly, and Harry said something to him through gritted teeth. Louis ground his hips backward, feeling Harry’s skirt bunch up between them. The feel of the material against his skin somehow drove him crazy, making him impatient for more and he moved desperately, begging under his breath and that was when Harry’s resolve disintegrated.
Harry's grunts were obscene, almost animalistic as he thrusted rapidly and Louis could barely hold himself up, his knees throbbing and shaking against the cold tiles. Louis was chanting under his breath, a string of AlphaAlphaAlpha timed with each thrust. He felt like he could barely hold on, all the teasing having got to him. He wasn't sure how long he'd warmed Harry for, but it had had a more acute effect than he'd thought.
Harry wrapped a hand around Louis’ throat again, tilting his head back, his spine a sinuous curve as he kept moving, the sound of skin slapping on skin mingling with the sounds the both of them were making. “Not yet,” Harry said simply, and he felt Louis clench down on him as he increased the pressure on his throat.
He angled his hips down, Louis matching him for each thrust. He wanted to reach for his throbbing cock, knot already swelling at the base, but he was barely holding himself up. Also he wasn't sure how Harry would react to that, and now that he was finally getting what he'd been daydreaming about all evening, he wasn't about to ruin it.
Harry was saying something under his breath, but he was also hitting Louis' prostate with every single thrust and so Louis felt he couldn't really be blamed for not quite paying attention. He was also extremely close, the only thing keeping him hanging on was Harry's hand around his throat, and the echo of his voice saying ‘Not yet’.
“Knot me,” Louis choked out, almost involuntary. “Please, fuck- Want your knot. Need you in me, Alpha. Please,” In the moment he couldn't care less about where they were, or what they'd do until Harry's knot went down. That was for future Louis to worry about. Right now, all he needed was the feel of Harry's knot stretching him out, the feel of Harry's come painting his insides, the warmth and the fullness and-
“ Harry .” He cried out, slumping bonelessly against the bench “Fuck, fuck, fuck ,”.
Harry’s knot had breached him and in the same moment he felt himself spurting rope after rope onto his thighs, onto the floor. But above all, he felt Harry. He was pinned under his alpha, Harry's chest was flush against his back, teeth sinking down into Louis' shoulder, his sweaty skin sticking to the sweat soaked spandex stretched across Harry’s chest.
Louis was trembling slightly under Harry’s weight, breath coming out in ragged gasps. He could barely think straight, too overwhelmed to speak as he just revelled in the warmth, in him, and of Harry on him, the hem of his skirt tickling the back of his thighs. It was Harry who finally broke the silence.
“I didn’t think this through,” He confessed with a small chuckle as he tried to move them, Louis hissing when Harry’s knot tugged at his rim.
“Don’t care,” Louis mumbled, biting his lip. “Can’t be that long anyway,”
“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, laughing.
“S’Alright, Alpha,” Louis said teasingly, turning his head to press his lips against Harry’s. “You can keep me here as long as you want,”
“Keep that up and I just might,” Harry mumbled against his lips, smiling slightly.
Louis really wouldn’t mind that.