Archive of Our Own

When Liam thinks back on it later, lying on his bed with the window open even though Louis’ miles away now, he knows he’s been in love with Louis for most of his life now. He still can’t seem to detach his thumb from the call button; he can’t seem to press it either.

~

The whole thing, Louis, started when he was seven and as outrageous and brash as he is now. He strolled right over, abandoning his mates to where Liam was sitting in the sandbox. Liam’s five, only two years younger than him but Louis succeeds in making him feel like a child, seems to lord his status over him. He takes one look at Liam’s toys, the juvenile spread of Woody and Buzz Light Year and proceeds to laugh right in his face. He has a lovely laugh, he always had, and he throws his head back and his eyes crinkle in the corners but he’s also always had the capacity to be cruel.

Louis informs Liam later, when they’re a bit more grown up and a glimpse of old toys brings back a wave of nostalgia that he was really just jealous. They couldn’t afford much toys, Louis’ family, there were too many kids and not enough money to go around but to purchase rickety off-brand toys. He confesses he didn’t know how to go about asking to play together.

Liam thinks it says a lot about how him, how he thanks the heavens that Louis was kind of a dick even at seven or he would never have been such an integral part of his life.

Even at this point Liam knew about Louis because everyone knew about Louis. He was the loudest, brightest, cheekiest kid on the playground and always in the centre of attention whether it was for being naughty or not. There’s something about Louis, even if he’s just a kid, that draws people in, that make people want to be his friend, to have his attention seems a bit like winning. Liam wants to be friends with him in that detached hero worship kind of way and to suddenly have him standing in front of him, his superman t-shirt bright and obnoxious, it was kind of overwhelming.

Liam denies it vehemently whenever Louis retells the story of how they met as dramatically as he can to whoever will listen, but he most definitely did break into tears.

Louis, taken back, blinks down at him in shock for a second before his instincts seem to kick in. He has little sisters and he’s always teasing and testing how far he can push people before he knows enough to stop. He’s ace at cheering them back up, can stop anyone crying as fast as he can make it happen.

In the end, Louis grabs a marker from some girls playing farther away and sits with Liam, grabbing his feet so his trainers are sole-up. He writes his name into the sole in all caps with the cheap, watery marker and grins in triumph when Liam stops rubbing at his eyes and peers at him curiously instead.

“There, now you’re mine forever,” Louis said, tucking his marker into his pocket.

Louis holds his hand then and Liam smiles, watery and wobbly and still in a state of shock and awe that Louis’ sitting next to him. It’s terrible, how that feeling won’t go away even when he knows better than to leave him on that pedestal. Liam gets home and it’s not until he’s trying to tell Ruth about Louis that he checks the sole of his shoe and realises his name’s all but rubbed off. He’s almost inconsolable and even his mum promising him new trainers won’t make it up for him.

When Louis sees him the next time, he bounds over from across the road and slings an arm around the shorter boy. Liam shuffles around in his front yard, squinting up at the sun and Louis and trying not to let the soles of his trainers leave the ground because he feels like he’s committed a crime.

“You’re such a silly sausage,” Louis says when he realises what he’s doing. He flicks him on the nose and tells him he’ll write his name on him every day if he liked and the tightness in Liam’s chest starts to slip away because Louis still wants to be his friend.

And for years after that, all throughout school, Liam comes home with Louis’ name in the corner of his books and the thin skin of his inner elbows and the back of his shirt even though they’re never in the same class.

~

It’s just like that and the two of them are inseparable. The two year age gap doesn’t seem like much, not yet anyway. It’s easy, what with living across the street in this tiny town, to spend hours together. If they aren’t playing at the nearby park, they’re at each other’s house doing everything as if they’re joined at the hips.

Maybe that’s why it comes as a shock as much to Liam as it does to Louis when his parents tell him they’re splitting up and his dad’s going to be moving away for a little while. They don’t know for how long and they don’t tell Louis this. It only feels like the whole world is ending to an eight year old.

They’re just standing underneath the shade of a tree at the park, poking at the spiky fall out with their toes and taking a break from the sun when Louis starts crying. He’s properly crying – crying in a way Liam’s never seen Louis cry before. A sense of helplessness threatens to overwhelm Liam until he’s panicking, eyes blown wide and his hands stuttering out before they freeze in mid-air. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, he’s a kid, he doesn’t comfort people – people comfort him, and he doesn’t know how else to stop this from happening to Louis ever again.

He falls back on instinct and reaches for Louis, wrapping his arms around the older boy, having to reach all the way up on his tippy toes to let him sob into the crook of his shoulder. Louis doesn’t let up for a little while, hiccupping into Liam’s batman shirt until the collar’s soaked through and kind of slimy. Liam pats Louis on the back, a tad harder than he’d intended because he’s trying to compensate for his earlier hesitation.

When he finally manages to stop crying, Liam immediately grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it up to wipe at his face as if that’d stem the flow if he’s fast enough. He drops his shirt back down and runs his fingertips, as gently as he knows how, over the swollen, reddened skin around his blue eyes and looks up at him in desperation.

“We can share my dad, Louis. I don’t mind,” Liam says because at this point all he knows is that Louis’ dad’s going away now.

Liam grabs both of Louis’ hands and squeezes. Louis makes a miserable little sound and looks like he’s about to start crying all over again.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Louis hiccoughs in a sad voice, like his two years on Liam has given him so much more wisdom. He sounds grateful though, still terribly upset and in an unreachable state because Liam doesn’t know what it’d be like to have his dad leave, but like he still understands what Liam’s trying to do.

The corners of Liam’s mouth pull down on its own accord at seeing Louis like this. He tips himself forward on his tippy toes again and frantically presses his lips to kiss every part of Louis’ face he can reach to comfort him like his mum does when he skins his knees or the shock of falling too hard seem to render him incapable of calming down. He misses his lips in his haste but gets the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth and curve of his cheeks until he’s stopped crying completely.

Afterwards Louis hugs Liam for a little while, standing there shaking in the shade like a leaf. Liam’s relieved that Louis’ not crying any more, he didn’t like that. He doesn’t understand everything that’s going on but he knows Louis’ upset and probably just as confused and lost as Liam is.

Liam’s mum comes over after a short while and takes them both back home, tucking Louis in next to Liam and brushing a kiss over both their foreheads. Liam hears Louis’ mum in the kitchen even if they’re trying to talk as quiet as possible. There’s nothing else for him to do but grab on to Louis’ hand and hold on tight, apologising for series of events that’s completely out of both their control.

~

Liam’s there when Louis gets his first pair of glasses. He couldn’t pick them from the more expensive priced frames and is stuck with cheap, thin frames from the sale section. Louis’ thirteen and also convinced his teenage life is over before it had even started. He laments this loudly and very dramatically all over Liam’s kitchen counter.

“I’m a hideous monster,” Louis wails, lying on the counter with a hand to his forehead. It should be vaguely uncomfortable, his hip bending like that, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“No, you’re not,” Liam says with a put-upon sigh. He makes sure Louis catches his pointed eye roll even if he’s grinning too much to make it work. He finishes pouring the lemonade into two glass cups and waits patiently for Louis to get off the counter and get back into his room so they can finish their video game.

“Nobody will want me,” Louis says and defiantly does not budge.

“I think they look nice,” Liam says and shrugs innocently when Louis removes his hand from his forehead so he can stare at him blankly.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Wear down my 20/20 vision throughout the years so you can have me all to yourself,” Louis says and sits up, his legs swinging over the edge as he points an accusing finger at Liam.

Liam’s already started to write Louis’ speech for him for when he inevitably wins an Oscar.

“Yes, Louis. I’ve somehow hacked into your genetics so I could have you all to myself,” Liam says dryly but it finally spurs Louis into jumping off the counter. He doesn’t say you picked me.

Louis crouches down on the kitchen floor for a second before he springs back up, getting up and close to Liam’s face which isn’t all that surprising any more. He squints at Liam so hard through his glasses, Liam’s afraid he’s going to sprain something. They really do look nice though, the faint glint of glass on Louis’ fast-angling face.

“Guess I’ll just have to be your love slave, Liam Payne,” Louis says and spins away. He runs out of the kitchen and towards the stairs, already stomping his way back up to Liam’s room. “Hurry up then, we don’t have all day to loiter around the kitchen counter!”

“What’s a love slave?” Liam asks curiously as he follows him up the stairs in a more sensible fashion, carefully holding the glasses out in front of him so the drinks don’t go spilling everywhere.

Ruth chokes on her tongue as she passes him on the stairs but when Liam turns his head to level her with a worried glance, she just shakes her head at him.

“Louis!” Liam says more urgently. He almost trips over himself as he closes the door behind him with his foot and hisses, “What’s a love slave?”

~

Liam feels justified in saying Louis was his first in a lot of things: his first friend, first kiss, first love. The word becomes blurry and weird, like he’s being saying it out loud one too many times, and it becomes distorted. He desperately doesn’t want a second or a third, hates how measurable ‘first’ sounds.

Liam’s fourteen when he’s persuaded to join Louis in a double date. First of all, Liam knows Louis’ got a massive crush on a girl named Hannah because Louis doesn’t keep secrets, not with Liam. Liam doesn’t see why Louis wouldn’t be, she gives as good as she gets and she makes Louis laugh the loudest even if sometimes his hands are shaking from his nerves. Apparently she only agreed to go out with Louis on a date if he could find someone to pair up with her friend. Liam doesn’t remember his date’s name, he just remembers the scratch of the brick wall against his shoulder blades and Louis’ lips warm and rushed on his.

“I changed my mind. I don’t want to go,” Liam says and tries to twist his hand out of Louis’ grip. Louis ignores him and resolutely tugs him down the street and to the familiar pizza joint where they usually get a bite to eat after school. “Nope, this is a bad idea. Why can’t Hannah just go on a date with you? Why does she feel the need to bring her friend? Louis, will you let go of my hand. Please?”

“You need to hush,” Louis says. He does oblige him by letting go of his hand but he immediately slings his arm around his neck so he won’t be able to escape, moulding him to his side. “You’re freaking out again. Take it from the expert, you’ll be fine.”

“What expert? This is your first date too you donut,” Liam says and argues that leaning his head against Louis’ shoulder is not the same as giving in.

“You wound me,” Louis says flippantly and smacks what he seems to think is a comforting kiss to the top of his head.

“Why does she want to go out with a fourteen year old anyway? Why would she want to go out with me?” Liam asks and groans into the material of Louis’ shirt. He smells different, like he’s nicked the fancy stuff his mum's live-in boyfriend uses.

“Because!” Louis says like it’s a really good reason. He finally throws a hand in the air, still dragging Liam along the street and says, “you’re fit for a fourteen year old! Everyone thinks so!”

“Really?” Liam asks even though Louis’ most probably joking. Nobody even knows who he is and those who vaguely do only associate him with Louis.

He sometimes gets that horrible sinking feeling where he sees the Louis everyone else sees, the loud, crazy kid that everyone loves or at least tolerates and he has to wonder why Louis’ still wasting his time with Liam. He’s two years ahead of school, he’s with the in crowd (even though that’s pretty much a joke in their tiny school).

“Yeah! They say stuff about how brown and … brown your eyes are and your nose! The fact that you even have a nose is a plus in my books,” Louis prattles on to make Liam laugh. It works and Liam relaxes against him for a moment, content.

“What if she wants to kiss me?” Liam asks suddenly, finally confronting the dread that’s been curling in his belly since the first time Louis mentioned this.

“On the first date? I didn’t know you were that kind of boy,” Louis says with a laugh. He turns his head in real worry when Liam starts to slow down.

“I don’t want to go,” Liam says again and pulls to a stop in the middle of the street, pulling Louis to a stop too.

He feels awkward and uncomfortable and clumsy at the mere thought of going on a whole proper date. It might’ve been okay if it was just Liam and Hannah’s friend, he does pretty well considering in one-on-one situations, even if it’s with a girl, but that’s not how it’s going to be. Louis and Hannah need to be there as well and it just makes his stomach churn.

“Have you never kissed somebody before?” Louis asks and calmly detaches himself to take his hand again.

“You know I haven’t,” Liam says and doesn’t look up, glancing down at their joined hands instead.

Of course, Louis’ told him when he kissed Maggie behind the canteen shed when he was twelve – like he said, he doesn’t keep secrets from Liam.

“It’s going to be horrid and I’m going to be terrible and she’s going to tell the whole school. Oh my god, Louis, let me go home, please?” Liam says, shaking their joined hand.

“Come here,” Louis says after a considering beat. He drags Liam into the alleyway of the pizza place where the bins are all stacked up. He leaves Liam in the shadows for a second to dart out and make sure no-one’s lurking around. When he comes back, he pushes Liam up against the brick walls with a grin like he’s humouring him.

“It’s pretty terrible at first because you’re nervous as fuck and you don’t know how much you should tilt your head or have time to wonder when your nose became so huge or how long you’re supposed to kiss for,” Louis says as quickly as he can. “But after the first one, it usually gets better. I, of course, was brilliant at it from the get go.”

Without any further explanation, he just leans right in and kisses Liam. Liam makes a startled noise and instinctively jerks backwards but the wall’s pressed right up behind him and he can’t pull his head back. Louis only surges closer, his lips a firm, sweet pressure against his own. He leans back after a short while and grins again, patting Liam’s cheek.

“You okay now? Can we go and make some panties drop?” Louis asks as if it was nothing, as if he kisses his best friend every day.

Liam’s too busy trying not to burst out of his skin, his brain going hay wire at the fact that Louis just kissed him and it feels like his heart’s never going to settle into a normal beat again. He stares down at Louis’ mouth and he wants to kiss him again, he wants to actually kiss him back this time and not just stand there like a twat.

“Can you show me that again?” Liam blurts out before the logical part of his brain can catch up with him.

Louis does so easily; rocking forward to kiss him again and this time Liam kisses him back. His hand fists at the material of Louis’ shirt, pulling him closer when he feels a touch of tongue against the seam of his lips. He makes an involuntary noise, shuddering slightly and he’s about to grab the back of Louis’ neck and pull him in even closer or just do something but Louis’ already pulling back. He grabs Liam’s hand again, grinning at him with his pretty pink lips that Liam’s not going to be able to stop thinking about now, and tugs him into the pizza shop without another word.

~

Louis gets a job as soon as he’s old enough but he’s sixteen when he starts working at the local cinema and he sneaks Liam in to watch all the good films during slow days in the summer. It’s only a tiny cinema with two working screens at the best of times but it’s a job and Louis gets paid at the end of the week and he’s determined to help out his mum as much as he can.

Their usual seat is right up the back where it’s too dark to see a foot ahead. There’s a huge bucket of popcorn propped between them, the one Liam always insists on paying for since Louis’ really going to get the sack if he steals popcorn as well as leave the counter unmanned and sneak Liam in for free movies while he’s on shift.

“The movies always start on the hour, everyone in town knows that so will you relax. No-one’s going to come around,” Louis says and props his feet up on the seats in front of him.

Liam attempts to throw a popcorn at Louis’ head but ends up missing him completely in the dark. He turns back to the screen and tries to focus on whatever the movie Louis picked out for them this week. The cinema mostly replays old movies because they only get the blockbuster hits every once in a blue moon but it’s still the highlight of Liam’s week, surrounded by Louis and the quiet of the cinema. It’s 2pm on a Wednesday in the middle of the summer holidays and they’re playing black and white films – the place is pretty much there’s.

Louis shuffles up closer, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder and munching on his popcorn, almost as if he’s nervous as the opening scenes come to a close. Sometimes he falls asleep from the body heat and the calm lull of the soundtracks of the silent movies but this time he’s tense as a bow. He stays pretty much that way until halfway through the movie when he suddenly puffs out a sigh against Liam’s neck.

“I think I like boys too,” Louis says into the dark and from this close, Liam can imagine what it’d be like to lick the taste of butter out of his mouth.

Instead, he’s stunned into silence, so much so he can’t respond for a moment. He’s not sure how Louis wants him to react – he doesn’t want to get this wrong. He ends up flicking at Louis’ thigh with his forefinger and whispering back, “Alright.”

Louis makes as if he’s going to move away from Liam, put some distance between the two of them and Liam’s already cursing his inability to say the right things at the right time. He hurriedly grabs at Louis’ thigh instead, draped across his own legs somewhere between the start and now of the film, and keeps him there with a firm grip.

That’s all it takes for Louis to relax back into his seat. He bites lightly through Liam’s shirt at the bone of his shoulder, as if in a wordless thanks for who knows what, and rests his head against him again. Liam breathes out slowly and when there’s a sudden explosion on screen that fades into blinding whiteness, Liam turns his head to catch the proud little smile on Louis’ face and he thinks I like you.

~

Liam ignores the persistent tapping against the window, figuring it’s the tree branches and leaves due to the thunder storm. He almost has a fucking heart attack when he does finally turn his head to see Louis’ face in a flash of lightning. He drops his pen immediately, pushing himself away from his desk, bounding towards the window. His bedroom’s on the second floor and it’s pouring outside. He makes quick work of the old fashioned latch, ignoring the way the cream paint peels against his fingers to haul Louis in before he falls out of the goddamned tree and ends up with his brains splattered all over the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Liam asks, pulling Louis in by the arm – the idiot’s only wearing a t-shirt and Liam’s already shivering from the gust of wind entering his room.

Liam’s hands keep slipping against Louis’ rain-slicked skin but he manages to haul him inside momentarily. He shuts the window and latches it shut with minor difficulty, distantly thinking the window’s way too small and Louis’ gotten way too big for him to be doing this anymore.

Louis, as usual, ignores his question and says, “Did you know it’s raining outside - because it’s raining outside.”

He shakes his head as if he was a drenched puppy, getting water all over Liam. He starts to jump up and down on his tippy toes, knowing better by now than to make any noise that could alert Liam’s parents or worse – his sisters. He continues to look pitiful and cold by rubbing his palms up and down his bare arms and shooting Liam looks underneath his sodden fringe.

“Louis, I’m grounded. You’re not allowed to be here,” Liam says uselessly. He’s already turned around to his wardrobe, digging out fresh, clean, dry clothes so Louis won’t catch pneumonia and complain at Liam for a week.

It’s Louis’ fault he got grounded in the first place. He wouldn’t have bunked off school on his own accord; everybody – even the principal – seemed to know that. But Liam thinks in hindsight that bit wasn’t all that important, the bits that he remembers most vividly is lying down in a field with the grass prickling into his back through his school shirt with Louis’ by his side. He remembers accepting the joint from Louis’ warm, sticky fingers and sharing a massive bottle of apple juice and pointing out clouds shaped like different animal testicles more than he remembers getting chased off someone’s property with a gun. Louis’ shields his eyes from the sun to look at Liam, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs at whatever Liam’s picked and it’s like it’s always been: it’s worth it.

It’s not like they’re taking too much away from Liam anyway, he doesn’t really watch telly and he’s always cooped up in his room anyway. Liam being grounded usually means not being able to see Louis for a while, that’s his punishment.

When Liam turns around, shaking out the random shirt he’s picked out, Louis’ standing there stark naked and shivering, grinning at Liam as if he can’t help it, strings tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s already wiped himself dry with Liam’s sheets if the darkened, damp patches are anything to go by. Liam wordlessly hands him the remainder of his clothes and averts his gaze successfully by sitting down on his rumpled bed. Louis gets dressed quickly, skipping the pants to tug the pyjama bottoms on. As soon as he’s done, he slicks his wet hair back and bounces onto Liam’s bed giddily.

Liam stares at Louis for a moment, can tell he’s buzzing with excitement, knows him well enough to know he’s just dying for Liam to ask what’s happened. Liam refuses to indulge him, just in principal because that’s literally all he does, but Louis only jumps him, throwing his arms around him to shove his icy cold nose against his neck like an overly affectionate, damp, excited puppy. He doesn’t let up until Liam’s trying to smother his laugh against Louis’ shoulder, making an effort to be as quiet as possible so his mum doesn’t come up and kick Louis out onto the streets.

“Alright alright, what’s happened now?” Liam asks when Louis draws back and sits with his legs tucked underneath him. He’s still shivering, half from excitement from whatever news he has and half from the sheer cold, Liam grabs his duvet and wraps it around Louis firmly so his head disappears under the little cone he’s made.

Louis pops his head out immediately, clutching at the duvet with clenched fists and says, “Dave kissed me.”

“Oh,” Liam says rather belatedly. Louis doesn’t seem to have heard in his mental state and he carries on as if he doesn’t notice.

“Okay so we were supposed to be studying for Biology and I don’t remember exactly what happened but we somehow ended up lying on my bed and it was just – it was,” Louis interrupts himself by rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, blinking as if he’s trying to come up with the word for it and now Liam can clearly see the little love bite he’s left just under his Adam’s apple.

“Good? Really good?” Liam offers, eyes flickering back up to Louis’ face when he comes back down to earth.

“Yeah, like, ridiculously,” Louis says and bounces a little on his knees, his eyes glazing over as if he’s living it all over again. “But before we could, y’know, really get into it – although, trust me, we were both pretty into it by then – my mum walked in on us.”

“Oh shit, is that why you’re here? Did your mum kick you out?” Liam asks in a panic, reaching for Louis. His hands fall flat on the bed instead.

“No no no, it’s a good thing!” Louis says excitedly. He bounces up on his knees again before he flops onto the bed on his back, leaning his head onto Liam’s pillow and getting it all wet as well. “I didn’t know how else I was going to tell her anyway. Now I don’t have to. I think she’s just overwhelmed at this point so I’m giving her space.”

“Are you sure?” Liam asks, leaning over Louis, the space between his eyebrows creased in worry.

Louis still looks ridiculously happy however, as if he couldn’t have imagined this to have gone any better. He nods to Liam, burying deeper into his nest of blankets and breathing in deeply.

“So are you and Dave going steady now?” Liam asks, tries to play it off as a joke mostly. Louis’ gone out with girls before but this feels - this feels like he’s lost something before he’s had a real opportunity.

Louis scoffs and rolls side to side a little, nudging Liam’s knee. “In this town? Don’t you think his dad would beat the shit out of him with his own football cleats? Can you imagine me walking down the halls holding Dave goddamn Matthews hand?”

“Right,” Liam says and sees Louis’ hands clasp together on his belly instead.

“Can I stay the night?” Louis asks, reaching up with a hand to flick Liam’s nose.

“Yeah, you can stay,” Liam says after a beat, as if he needed more than a second to think it over.

“Knew I could count on you,” Louis says, thumbing at the corner of Liam’s mouth before abruptly dropping his hand. He wriggles on the bed, shaking the frame from the force of it, and stretches his arms out of the blankets to settle in for the night.

~

The first time Liam manages to win a wrestling match with Louis, he’s fifteen and even more surprised than Louis.

He’s in his bedroom, hunched over his homework and trying his best to finish it up with Louis lounging around on his bed behind him. He’s come over instead of going to one of the countless house parties he’s invited to – everybody knows everybody but they mostly know to invite Louis – and Liam feels out of depth.

It’s almost like he owes Louis, he has to entertain him so he’ll stay and that makes him angry at himself and Louis and the world in general because it’s confusing and they’re friends, have been for years, he shouldn’t have to feel like this. It sometimes feels like Liam isn’t as big as a part of Louis’ life as he is for Liam. He can’t make sense of himself or anything outside of his own head for that matter and it just keeps going and going in circles until he’s stressing himself out for nothing. So. He tries his best to focus on things he does understand, like getting his homework done in time, and if he’s ignoring Louis to do so, well, it’s not entirely intentional anyway.

“Leeeeee-yum,” Louis whines from the bed. Liam just knows he’s sprawled out on his stomach, one shoe still on his feet while he gets comfortable. His voice is muffled into the cotton of Liam’s pillow but he can still hear him, loud and deliberately grating.

“Yes?” Liam asks calmly in contrast, flipping a page in his textbook without as much as a backward glance.

“I’m bored, play with me,” Louis says and the sounds of rustling sheets and springing mattresses fill the ensuing silence. Liam’s tempted to turn around and see if he’s pretending to be a fish flopping around on dry land again (it’d be the fifth time in an hour) or if he’s just turning onto his back to get more comfortable.

“Why didn’t you go to Scott’s party if I’m so boring,” Liam ends up saying, on the side snappier than he’d intended. He sighs, feeling terrible immediately even if it’s true. Any day now Louis is going to realise how true this is – Liam just feels like he’s delaying the inevitable.

“Come here,” Louis says, ignoring his last remark. He’s good at that.

Liam sighs again and puts his pen down in the middle of his textbook. He rolls his eyes but he pushes his chair back and gets up anyway. Most of the angry constipation of feelings kind of dissipates as he turns around and heads towards the bed. It’s almost, almost, worth it for the smile Louis rewards him with, bright and grateful.

“Because I wanted to play with you,” Louis says and hooks his foot behind one of Liam’s knee, pulling sharply as he accentuates his words.

Liam stumbles onto his single bed, going down on one knee and being tugged the rest of the way by Louis’ insistent hands. They used to have sleep-overs on this bed until it got too small to comfortably situate the both of them and they kept going until Liam’s mum insisted one of them sleep in the sleeping bag. Louis shouts out in triumph at Liam’s fall, ignoring the tangle of elbows and knees, sharp points digging into ribs and sensitive give of his belly, and takes advantage of the confusion to clamber on top of Liam. He manhandles him around and before they know it – they’re wrestling like they haven’t done in a little while.

“I win! I win!” Louis crows with a grin, straddling Liam’s hips, leaning right over to keep his fingers wrapped around Liam’s wrists and held down. He laughs breathlessly and Liam takes the moment just to watch.

Louis always won. He’s two years older than Liam and has always had the size advantage, running into his growth spurts with unbridled enthusiasm and energy.

Liam decides enough’s enough and bucks his hips up, managing to break Louis’ grip on his wrist when he gets shoved up in surprise. He makes quick work of it, flipping them over so he can throw himself on top and grab Louis’ hands from pulling a dirty move. He pushes them into the pillows by his head, bracketing his hips with his knees just like Louis had, and keeps them tight so he won’t be able to budge. When he leans over him, he’s breathing hard – they’re both breathing harder.

Louis’ always won until now.

There’s a moment when it’s just silence interrupted by the sound of their breathing and Liam takes the time to look down at Louis. His lips are parted in surprise and Liam’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to them and how it’s slowly stretching into a tiny, fond smile. It’s the first time Liam’s won at one of their wrestling matches and he’s still running high on the adrenaline, exhilarated at the feel of Louis’ lying underneath him, trapped between his thighs, pliant and easy.

“What do I win?” Liam asks quietly, his breathing quietened down considerably but still uneven.

Louis doesn’t reply for a minute and he doesn’t get a chance to. Just as he opens his mouth they both hear Ruth’s footsteps running up the stairs. They share a quick look, Louis’ eyes huge and blue as they stare up at Liam.

When she bursts in, her knuckles barely grazing the wood as a shitty excuse for a knock, Liam’s sitting on the ground by his bed. He’s got a textbook spread across his knees and Louis’ lying on his belly on the bed with Liam’s laptop by his hand. He’s scrolling through it, his hands playing with Liam’s hair absent-mindedly.

“Mum says dinner’s ready,” she says and leaves without another glance, not noticing anything different.

To Liam, the air’s still heavy with tension and his skin feels electric and he’s hyperaware of Louis’ fingertips brushing over his ear as he curls the strands between his fingers. He’s vaguely aware that he’s still sweaty, warmth burning through the cotton of his t-shirt and surrounding him completely, almost as if he’s being enveloped in a cocoon.

“Are we having chicken tonight?” Louis asks and stops petting Liam’s head, his fingertips trailing across the nape of his neck before being removed completely. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stall like Liam so desperately wants to, and bounds off the bed towards the door. He yanks it wide open again and turns back to smile at Liam carelessly.

“Yeah,” Liam says, clearing his throat when it comes out too croaky.

He follows after Louis momentarily, palming at his cheeks because they’re still so warm. He flattens his blazing palms against the banister as he makes his way down to the dining room. Louis’ in his usual seat and he’s joking around with Liam’s dad like nothing’s out of the ordinary. Liam feels too blatant and obvious but his sister shoves past him and it’s gone.

~

In the same year Louis’ mum gets remarried. Liam’s whole family ends up being involved but their families have been neighbours and friends for almost a decade now, it’s almost expected. Liam’s sisters help Jay with her hair and make-up and Liam’s mum helps out with the food as much as they can, everyone does. It’s only a small wedding, nothing too expensive or fancy, and Liam goes with Louis to help him buy a suit. He has feeling that it’s vital he assists Louis in finding something if the wedding’s to go smoothly.

“What about velvet? Can you see my walking my mum down the aisle in purple velvet?” Louis asks.

Liam doesn’t have a chance to answer before the curtain swings out of the way to reveal Louis and his velvet suit. He promptly strikes a ridiculous pose, fishing a pair of flashy old sunglasses he’d found at the entrance of the shop out of the collar of his blouse. He perches it on the bridge of his nose and tilts his chin up to stare haughtily down at Liam through the darkened lenses.

It’s not a proper suit shop, no racks of clean cut clothes in a well-lit department store. They don’t even have one too close to their town anyway. They’ve had to make do and it’s not that bad. It’s a small locally owned store where most things have been donated after their relatives have passed or grown out of their clothes and there’s an overwhelming smell of dust and something lingering in the air.

“I’d rather not,” Liam says very helpfully.

He turns his face to the side so Louis won’t be able to catch the smile he’s trying to stifle at the sight of him. There’s an abundance of pink frills pouring out of his shirt and everything clashes so horribly even Liam can tell it shouldn’t be happening.

“’Course you’d rather see me naked, you wanton mistress of the night you,” Louis says and does a little spin. He looks over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his arse, sticking it out even more to make the material of his matching suit pants stretch. He makes a sound of contemplation and says, “Good fit though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah,” Liam says hurriedly, coughing out half the world because that’s a definite yes on all counts then.

“What about leather? Leather and lace, that could be the mother and son theme,” Louis says and struts over to Liam. He bends over again to pick up a pair of leather trousers from the pile of clothes he’s picked out.

They went through the whole shop with a fine-toothed comb in search of something suitable for Louis. Most of the clothes Liam’s picked out are sensible dark suits that may run just a tad too small or big for Louis and most of the clothes Louis’ picked out consist of feather boas and sequined fedoras.

“Please don’t,” Liam says and tries to tug the leather trousers out of Louis’ hands. He can’t deal with that. Nobody can deal with that.

“Only if you try them on will I deprive the world of this sight on my mother’s special day,” Louis says and pulls Liam up by the grip he has on the trousers. He won’t take no for an answer and starts to push him into the curtained off area to change.

“I’m not trying on leather trousers, Louis,” Liam says but Louis’ joined him in the little makeshift changing room and his hands are insistently going lower and lower.

Louis starts to unbuckle his belt with deft fingers and Liam’s too busy pushing his hands away to put up any more of a fight. He pushes Louis out of the changing room and shuts the curtain behind him. He shakes his head at himself, pushing his jeans off his legs all the while. He feels like he’s in one of Ruth’s bad romance novels that she pretends not to read. He wriggles his feet down the legs and starts to pull the leather trousers up. He does a lot of stupid shit to make Louis smile but this kind of takes the cake.

Liam’s barely finished zipping the trousers up with some difficulty when the curtains are thrown open again. Louis knows full well that Liam wouldn’t have walked out on his own accord. He just wanted to cop an eyeful before Liam changed his mind and hastily changed back. He starts to crow with laughter almost immediately and Liam crosses his arms defensively. He feels stupid and a bit self-conscious even if he knows it’s all in good fun because they’re just so tight and he’s pretty sure they’re not a mens at the very least.

“Oh my god, I wish my shitty phone had a camera,” Louis says and he’s still in his stupid velvet suit and the both of them look like right tits.

He falls forward onto Liam from the force of his laughter, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and holding himself up that way, his whole body shaking against Liam’s.

“You’re trying them on next,” Liam says with a laugh, Louis’ always too contagious.

“Don’t think they’ll go up, babe,” Louis says as he resurfaces. He keeps his arms around Liam though, peeking over his shoulders and reaching down to smack his bum. “You look proper fit.”

“Can we find you a decent suit now so you won’t walk your mum down the aisle in, I don’t know, bondage gear or something,” Liam says because Louis’ whole body’s pressed against him and he’s still squirming with laughter. Liam’s wearing really tight leather trousers. He needs to stop the touching thing immediately.

“Kinky,” Louis says, pulling back to wriggle his eyebrows. “D’ya need help getting them off?”

Liam doesn’t dignify that with a response and pushes Louis out of the changing area again. He ends up needing Louis’ help getting the trousers off but then he thinks he’d rather walk home in leather trousers and face his sisters’ mirth than have Louis on his knees pulling at them.

They’re a lot harder to get off than they were to get on and his pants almost come down as well much to Louis’ unabashed glee. There’s a lot of grunting and giggling and the occasional, “Ow, be careful!” and “it’s too tight, you can’t – Louis, you’re going to rip something,” and when they both stumble out of the changing rooms, bright red from exertion and laughing, Mrs Weber is standing there looking extremely unimpressed.

“Oh god, this isn’t what it looks like, Mrs Weber. We weren’t doing any – he was just helping me get the trousers off – not like!” Liam stammers, abruptly coming to a stop and turning beetroot red.

Louis just hip checks him out of the way, still in his velvet suit and frilly pink blouse, and starts to smooth talk his way into her heart for the rest of time itself. Everyone in their freaking town seems to have a soft spot for Louis even if he has a reputation for being a ‘no good delinquent’.

Somehow they don’t end up getting kicked out of the shop. Not only that but Louis’ convinces her to bring out the old boxes from the box that are the ‘newer’ arrivals. The suits are a bit dusty but they end up being a much better fit for Louis. Louis stares down at the black blazer he’s trying on, his shoulders and arms fitting perfectly and Liam sighs to himself from across the room. Liam knows it still costs a bit too much for Louis he’s not going to let Liam do anything about it either.

“What about this one?” Liam says after rummaging in silence for a little while. He pulls out a blazer in dark navy that seems about Louis’ size. There’s an overpowering scent of mothballs but it costs less. “Black’s boring, everyone wears black to a wedding. This would look nice, go with your eyes.”

“Have you been reading your sister’s Cosmo?” Louis asks but shrugs the black one off. He wanders over towards Liam and reaches for the one he’s picked out for him.

He purchases the cheaper navy suit at the end of their little excursion and tries to goad Liam into wearing leather trousers to the wedding.

“What’s your obsession with me and leather trousers?” Liam asks, pulling him bodily out of the little shop because he and Mrs Weber seem to have taken an immense liking to each other and everyone’s reluctant to see him go. Liam waves goodbye to Mrs Weber from outside the shop through the darkened windows and starts down the street.

“Trying to help you pull, mate,” Louis says, swinging his arm around Liam’s neck, his suit thrown over his other shoulder. He pinches Liam’s cheek as they make their way down the street and back home and Liam’s given up on arguing over Louis’ logic.

~

The wedding is a huge success even if it’s on the quieter, smaller side. It’s at the very least surprising for Liam since Louis’ so heavily involved in it and there was no glimpse of leather or velvet. Louis walks his mum down the aisle in his suit and graciously does not dramatically declare anything when his new step-dad takes her hand. He seems happy that they’re finally getting married, that his mum can get her happy ending.

He’s wearing his new contact lenses and he’s got his hair all done nice and he looks so good in his second-hand suit. Liam can barely keep his eyes off him. Liam can see him get teary eyed during their vows, standing to the side with Daisy in his arms. It makes Liam’s chest constrict and he’s seeing seven year old Louis crying in the park all over again. But he smiles at his mum, and there’s no better word than blinding to describe it, and it’s better this way.

There’s a bit of a mix up at the tiny reception held in the Campbell’s larger backyard underneath temporary white canopies. Liam and Louis somehow end up seated at the same table as his step-dad’s father. It turns out he gets on a bit of a homophobic rant when he drinks enough cheap champagne. Louis, trying so hard to be on his best behaviour for his mum, grabs Liam’s hand and tightens his grip instead of opening his mouth. After a tense moment he pulls Liam onto the makeshift dance floor with the rest of the guests (mostly family and close friends) like they’re going to dance. He doesn’t have to say anything directly to the old bastard but Liam reads it loud and clear.

“He’s an idiot,” Liam says, getting right up close for Louis to be able to hear over the music.

It’s an upbeat disco track and Louis’ angrily dancing. Liam has to give it to him, he’s making it work. The hard line of his frown softens at Liam’s words and he stops dancing like he’s going to shit out a baby and more like he usually does – carefree and kind of stupid.

“Yeah he is – catch me,” Louis says magnanimously and grabs Liam’s hand, spinning into his arms. He promptly dips himself back, throwing his leg in the air ridiculously and explicitly trusting Liam not to just dump his arse on the floor.

Liam laughs when Louis pops back up and Louis smiles right back. He keeps his hold on Liam’s hand, not as tight as before but firm, and tries to do some fancy footwork that mostly ends up with him falling over Liam.

They get separated once Louis’ burned off the gnawing irritation and simmering rage under his skin. Liam dances with Felicity standing on the toes of his best leather shoes and Louis takes his mum’s hand from his step-dad. Liam can still hear Louis laughing through the music though, it cuts right through the bustle of the crowd, and it’s almost like Louis’ still right there.

It’s by some chance that Louis finds Liam again when the tell-tale romantic slow song starts to swirl around the room. Liam lets go of Mrs Calder’s hand at Louis’ insistence and takes his instead. Louis takes the time to hiss at her as she walks away until Liam reaches up to smack the back of his head lightly with a fond shake of his head.

“If she thinks she’s slow dancing with my man, she’s got another thing coming,” Louis says, shaking his own head dramatically.

Liam sometimes just – he wishes Louis wasn’t so silly about everything, about things that matter to Liam, because it makes his heart stutter in his chest and his whole body feels unbelievably light for a second before it sinks like a rock all the way down to the pit of his stomach again. But then again, that’s just Louis, and Liam loves Louis just as he is.

“Jesus Liam, you know I put out on the first date,” Louis says, looking at the foot-long gap between their bodies.

Liam rolls his eyes because Louis has a tendency to never shut up and the music’s quite nice and everyone’s swaying already and he just wants this one thing. He just wants to hold him once. Liam gets a hand around the dip of Louis’ waist and pulls him flush against him. Louis doesn’t stumble, not this time, and Liam keeps him close by sliding his palm against the small of his back. He’s taller than Louis now, not by much but enough for it to make a difference.

“I should gag you,” Liam says fondly, feeling Louis crowd in closer.

“Usually not until the second date, please, what kind of boy do you think I am,” Louis replies and Liam laughs quietly, moving slow across the dance floor. It’s not that weird for Liam and Louis to be dancing like this, everyone’s seen them do everything else together.

“Thanks,” Louis says after a while, quieter, his lips barely brushing against Liam’s ear.

Liam can tell it’s not just for helping out with the wedding or the suit. He doesn’t reply, feels like he should be the one thanking Louis and just hugs him tighter. When they pass their table, Liam sticks his tongue out at the homophobic old fart over Louis’ shoulder and stays right there for a while.

~

Liam goes to his first real party, as in a party that doesn’t involve birthday cakes and piñatas, when he’s sixteen. He doesn’t tell Louis about it.

There’s a new kid at school, freshly transferred all the way from Ireland and it’s exciting because everyone already knows everyone here. He’s pretty much everything Liam can’t bring himself to be. He has the ability to be able to talk to anyone but for some reason latches onto Liam like a rather loveable, talkative parasite. They have a majority of classes together and most importantly they have their love for music in common. Liam still feels like he’s the parasite most of the time but Niall obviously doesn’t think so.

Niall loves everybody unreservedly, gives everyone the benefit of the doubt and somehow doesn’t come off as insufferable. It’s also very hard to say no to that face because he ends up dragging Liam to a house party Liam hadn’t even known about even though he only lives a block over and went to every single party of Sarah’s until she turned thirteen and stopped inviting him.

Everyone lights up at the sight of Niall, choruses of his name and greetings thrown their way. Niall takes it in his stride, laughing that maniacal way that’s always too infectious and leads Liam into some sort of trouble every time. Liam’s known these people in this stupid little town his whole life yet they seem to know more about Niall than they do about Liam.

Liam’s not bitter about it. He’s trying anyway, he really likes Niall, he’s a good friend and he’s got someone else to hang out with now that he has all this free time on his hands.

“This is illegal,” Liam says as Niall hands him a drink.

“I love you too,” Niall says with a shit-eating grin, patting his shoulder. His smile turns more encouraging and Liam opens the can and swallows half of it down immediately. He winces at the taste and sticks his tongue out but Niall just laughs and shoves him towards people.

And the thing is, well, Louis’ on a date – a proper date in a restaurant with waiters and a bill and closed shoes and his lovely girlfriend Eleanor. He called up to make a reservation and everything at the fancy place Liam’s parents usually go for their anniversary. He’s been practically buzzing with excitement for this one night for the past week and a half. He’s more than determined to do this right and when Louis wants something to be perfect, it will be.

He’s eighteen and he’s in love (again) and he won’t shut up about it. He doesn’t want to. Liam can tell he’s serious about her, really serious – ‘I love yous’ and “forevers’ – Liam just wants to get smashed until he won’t remember how to get back to his house let alone Eleanor’s name and the way Louis’ smiles at her across the common room.

Due to a brilliant twist of luck and turn of fate, Liam ends up vomiting all over Sarah’s front yard. He feels so sick and dizzy, he just wants to go home. This isn’t fun anymore, he can’t find Niall anywhere but he’s not trying too hard. He doesn’t know anybody else here, not well enough to ask if they can take him home and he’s not even going to attempt to get there himself.

Liam doesn’t remember actually pulling his phone out and calling Louis but it doesn’t matter because he does and Louis comes. When he next blearily opens his eyes, Louis’ crouching over him with both of his eyebrows raised, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His hands are ridiculously warm against Liam’s shoulders through his t-shirt but when they slide over his cheeks, it’s a cool, comforting presence and he leans into it.

“Lou?” Liam asks, and gives up getting a whole sentence out. The ‘what are you doing here’ seems obvious.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Payne. You’re a right party animal,” Louis teases, ruffling Liam’s hair.

He doesn’t sound like he’s pissed off or teasing all that seriously, his tone’s mostly fond and it makes Liam feel better inside. He pushes a hand through Liam’s sweaty curls, smoothing it back from his forehead like he’s a sick child and shakes his head.

“You’re supposed to be on a date,” Liam slurs out miserably. Louis starts to pull him up instead of replying, ignoring the way Liam pulls an immature face at the concept of moving. He tightens his grips on Liam’s biceps and tugs harder until Liam groans and acquiesces.

“Couldn’t leave you passed out on someone’s yard, love. That’s how you get a reputation,” Louis says and starts to haul him to his car.

“You left her to come get me?” Liam asks in confusion, finding comfort in Louis’ sold weight against his side and the scent of his skin.

By some means, Liam ends up in the backseat of Louis’ nan’s car. His head is already heavy and starting to ache and his body’s going down without his permission, sliding sideways head-first. He finds his cheek firmly acquainted with the upholstery as Louis starts the car. Liam would rather Louis was still in the backseat with him, tucked right along his side and stroking his hair like he was doing a moment ago.

“Don’t you dare vomit in my nan’s car – or do, you’re going to be mortified tomorrow,” Louis says, glancing back at the mirror.

“M’sorry,” Liam says and feels the car start to move. He makes a sad sound at that.

He is feeling rather dreadful about the fact he’d ruined Louis’ date. He put so much thought into the night after all. He wants Louis to be happy.

“You will be tomorrow,” Louis says and when Liam unsticks his face from the seat to look into the back mirror, Louis’ grinning at him.

Liam slumps forward with some effort, squeezing himself as much as he can in between the front seats to lean his head against Louis’ shoulder even if the world tilts dangerously. His eyes start to slide shut and he wants to stay like this forever because Louis always feels like home.

“You’re staying over at mine because your mum will kill me, she’s going to think I did this to you,” Louis says with a huff of laughter, leaning his cheek against Liam’s head.

“She wouldn’t. You’re her favourite,” Liam mumbles drowsily. “You’re my favourite.”

Louis laughs again, so familiar and comforting, and says, “You’re mine too.”

~

Liam’s family go camping once a year and Louis tags along with a big bag of marshmallows and forgets the rest of his shit half the time. It’s not all that bad though, his sisters complain non-stop while his parents happily potter around setting up the tent and lighting the fire, and Louis does nothing to help.

“Did you forget your sleeping bag again, love?” Karen asks, popping her head in the tent where Louis’ lying with his head in Liam’s lap, demanding to be fed marshmallows like a spoilt brat.

“Yeah,” Louis says sheepishly and shrugs. “I can just share with Liam though.”

His mum shakes her head as she goes back to smelling leaves or whatever sick pleasure his parents get out of all this. Louis clambers into a sitting position, sitting cross-legged to mirror Liam and grabs the marshmallows out of his lap.

“Fizz took it to that Girls Scout thing. I wish I could’ve bought her a better one, that one has holes and the filling’s falling out and it smells rank,” Louis says, chewing thoughtfully on a couple of marshmallows at the same time so his cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk. “She’s been into unicorns lately; I should get her a unicorn sleeping bag.”

“Do you mean a sleeping bag with unicorns on it?” Liam asks, stealing a marshmallow from Louis’ fingers.

“No, an actual unicorn sleeping bag where you unzip the side to sleep inside its body and your head kind of sticks out of its mouth,” Louis says, looking up at the corner of their cramped tent as if he’s imagining it.

“What is wrong with you,” Liam says but it’s not even a question anymore.

He chews extra hard on his marshmallow instead of focusing on that tightness he gets in his chest whenever Louis wants to buy his sisters something but can’t. He wishes the world could see how good he was underneath it all, the whole bravado and talk he refuses to let up that always seems to end with him exhausted. Not like he is with Liam, he notices, he’s just Louis. Louis hums in a non-committed manner and lies back down, resting his head back on Liam’s lap and opening his mouth expectantly.

They get sent to fetch some water from the river even though it looks like it’s going to rain and they already have their own bottled water in supply. Liam points this out and he gets shooed away by his dad who insists they need it for emergencies. He doesn’t know what they’re going to use river water for in an emergency situation but he just grabs a bucket and waits for Louis to do the same.

“I think it’s going to rain,” Louis says as they trek their way through the woods back to their campsite with buckets of river water. They’ve done this a million times, they probably won’t get lost this time around.

“Don’t say that, that’s when it usually starts to rain,” Liam says but he looks expectantly up at the skies and it fails to deliver.

“Our life isn’t a movie, Liam Payne,” Louis says with a scoff and battles with a wayward twig caught in his collar.

Liam drops his bucket and frees it for him, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck and over the thin red scratch its left. He picks up the bucket and starts to walk again, making his way out of the more crowded undergrowth and densely packed trees to a small clearing. It looks vaguely familiar but he also thinks a lot of trees clumped together look familiar.

“I know that, thanks,” Liam says dryly because it’s not like he’s the drama queen in this duo.

Louis crashes out of the trees and into his back and Liam’s about to say something about how if this was a movie a serial killer or a bear would totally ambush them right now. Louis stills unnaturally and clutches at Liam’s bicep, dropping his bucket with a thunk.

“What’s wro-,” Liam starts to say but Louis urgently hushes him.

And then he hears it too, the odd rustling of the leaves that definitely can’t be chalked up to the wind because there’s a fucking serial killer or a fucking bear that’s going to kill them where they stand.

“What are the geographical chances of a bear being here right now,” Louis asks in a hushed whisper, leaning in right close even if they’re both frozen stiff. “Am I using the word geographical right?” he asks, his breath hot against Liam’s neck and it’s good to know that he can get uncomfortably aroused by that even when he’s about to piss his pants. He’s going to chalk it up to the beginnings of a fear boner.

“I don’t know but will you be quiet,” Liam hisses back.

There’s a sudden noise to his right and Louis throws his arms around Liam’s shoulders, plastering them back to front and keeping Liam as a shield in front of him.

“We’re going to die, our parents are going to find our chopped up remains right where we stand,” Liam says in one breath, starting to edge backwards from the source of the noise, Louis doing the same behind him, keeping them close.

“Why would a bear chop us up, it’s not Kung Fu Panda Liam, I know that’s definitely not geographically correct,” Louis says. He almost trips over a bucket and Liam thinks triumphantly it would be well-deserved but soon realises if Louis goes down so does Liam.

“It could be a serial killer,” Liam says out of the corner of his mouth. The serial killer might have super hearing and be offended by Liam calling it a serial killer. He doesn’t know and he hopes to never find out but he doesn’t think they’d like being called that - might make them more murderous and lunatic.

“Why? Why would you say that?” Louis hisses furiously back but then something lunges out of the woods and they’re both yelling too loud to keep conversing.

Liam’s ears are ringing since Louis’ mouth was just there when he screamed like the victim of a horror movie and they’ve both landed on a heap of leaves on the ground since Louis took fright and jumped, falling back and dragging Liam down with him. Liam’s more than aware that he’s lying on top of Louis between his legs, his thighs squeezing tight against his sides and Louis’ still clutching at his shoulders like it’s going to save him from Kung Fu Panda. They’re both drenched in rather smelly river water and to make matters worse, that’s when it starts to rain.

Once he’s ears stop echoing he can’t hear much else over the sound of Ruth’s laughter. She can’t even get full words out, she’s just spluttering “faces” “dumb” “so dumb” over and over again and Liam’s heart is pounding and he tries to sit up and shout at how that isn’t even funny but Louis won’t let go of his shoulders.

“I’ve got to tell someone, holy shit,” Ruth says through her hysterical laughter, wiping tears and rain off her face and disappearing back the way she came - into the depths of hell probably.

“Louis, are you going to let go any time soon?” Liam asks but Louis’ only taken to hugging his head to his chest now, tucking his chin over the top and rocking back and forth.

“BOO!” Ruth says as she reappears out of the trees. She cackles as Liam and Louis both scream their heads off again, scrambling to grab each other’s hands, and skips off again as if this makes up for her hair getting all wet.

“I’m going to kill her,” Liam says. He doesn’t mean it though, it’s quite nice like this even if the rain’s soaking their clothes through and through and they’re not going back for anymore fucking water and his heart’s still thudding too fast, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Louis hasn’t let go of him yet, he’s kind of frantically petting Liam’s face at this point.

When they get up again, Louis’ front is dry since Liam was shielding him from most of the rain. He insists that he’s maybe sprained his arse and makes Liam check that everything’s fine back there and nothing’s concaved and Liam indulges him long enough before starting to tug him back to the warmth of the campsite.

“You were really scared, you were going to give me up for bear food!” Liam says and Louis pulls a stupid face, reaching forward to pinch his nipple instead of admitting it.

Everybody else is already in their tents, having packed up all the things that had to be kept dry. Liam entertains the notion of creeping up to his sisters’ tent and scaring the shit out of them too but he’d rather get out of the rain first. Once they’re both inside and zipped up the tent with some minor difficulty since their fingers are getting colder and slippery they strip out of their clothes without hesitation. Liam’s hand collides with Louis when they reach for the towel at the same time and they have a brief and restricted tug of war which Liam graciously lets Louis win. Louis still leans over and dries Liam’s hair for him first.

“I wasn’t that scared,” Louis mumbles, patting at his chest with the rather sodden towel.

He reaches inside a bag, not caring who it belongs to, and pulls out a grey hoodie. The hoodie runs a tad too big on Liam anyway so the sleeves manage to fall right past Louis’ palms so his fingers barely poke out. “I literally had your back. Besides, I had to protect my maidenly virtues from a possible Kung Fu Panda invasion.”

“What maidenly virtues?” Liam asks, feeling much better in his soft dry t-shirt.

Louis gasps as if he’s offended and lunges for Liam who’s half in and half out of a new shirt. “Are you implying that I’m a slag,” Louis asks, already breathless and laughing hard. They’re scrabbling at each other’s arms, trying to get a good grip. Louis slaps away Liam’s hands and attempts to capture his wrists but they’re both laughing too hard for it to be a proper fight. Their hands are on that side of cold and rubbery, both of them too numb to get a proper grip.

“Nobody’s implying,” Liam says with a snort, laughing so hard it’s getting more difficult to be on the winning side of this wrestle.

They both collapse side by side after a while, still laughing and out of breathe. They had to stop because the tent almost upended and they are not going to be squeezing in to sleep in Liam’s parents tent. Not after the last time.

“It’s getting cold,” Louis says and flips onto to his belly, worming his way inside the sleeping bag and holding the side out in invitation.

Liam feels like his skin is on fire actually but he doesn’t hesitate to do the same, squeezing in besides him. He feels entirely too warm and content, like he’s where he should be. Liam’s poking halfway out of the sleeping bag, his legs tangled with Louis’ in the bottom half, but Louis’ still a warm weight at his side and when he turns his head to the side, he can barely make out his profile in the semi-dark.

The yellow cover of the tent throws a ghoulish glow on Louis’ features but he remains everything Liam’s could ever want. And it hurts a bit, right in his chest, as if he’s been sobbing for the past hour and he’s scraped raw inside. He could just fist a hand in his ridiculously huge hoodie and pull him in closer and kiss him, feel the press of his lips and his breath on his skin – but the thing is, of course he couldn’t.

Louis turns his head to the side, startling Liam and not giving him enough time to school his face into something less obvious. Louis immediately twists around so he’s lying on his side, staring at Liam’s face in worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, already leaning forward and getting an arm around Liam.

Liam shifts to his side too and lets Louis draw him in closer, hides his face against the crook of Louis’ neck and inhales shakily because he’s weak and he wants and he’s so scared. Louis doesn’t say anything, just knows Liam’s not okay, and tightens his grip on him, hugging him hard so their bodies are pressed flushed together.

Louis smells like Louis under the river and the rain and fresh laundry and Liam lets Louis comfort him, wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him in closer by the small of his back. He just shakes his head against him wordlessly and Louis smooths his palm down his back like he understands, makes soft, hush sounds until Liam feels less like there’s a hand twisting at him inside.

“I wouldn’t have offered your body to the bear. I would’ve spun us around if a serial killer came at you with a butcher’s knife. I’d keep you safe,” Louis says and he’s being silly but his voice still comes out soft and it doesn’t sound like words anymore, just all part of the soothing ease at the knot of ache.

Liam still laughs because he knows Louis needs to feel like he’s done it, he’s helped in some way in the only way he thinks he can. They both know to varying degrees that it’s not about this at all but it makes them feel better all the same.

~

Louis gets the lead role in their school’s production of Grease in his last year of sixth form. He spends the whole year rehearsing and spending hours upon hours with his cast mates. By then, Louis’ kind of built up a reputation for himself – everybody knows him. It’s like a huge goodbye, almost, for Louis to move on after doing this one last thing in this town. It becomes one of the most hyped up performances in the history of their town which really says a lot about this place and also Louis’ talent.

Louis understandably has the right to freak the fuck out.

It’s almost like the whole town’s come to see the school production, their town hall is packed – even Liam’s parents came to show their support. There’s a huge, building pressure in the hall as more and more people start to trickle in. Liam’s already got a seat right at the front, it’s the perks of being the lead’s best mate, and Niall’s already brought half the world’s supply of popcorn.

Liam leaves Niall for a moment to go backstage and wish Louis luck or to break a leg or whatever it is he’s supposed to say. He’s barely made it back there when someone in all black with a clipboard comes running up to him to ask if he’s seen Louis around.

“What do you mean you lost him? How did you lose him? He’s the star of the show!” Liam says and feels terrible immediately about igniting her panic further more because she looks like she’s going to turn into tears. He pats her awkwardly on the head, she’s quite short, and says, “I’ll find him, just – don’t worry about it, okay?”

She sniffles and thankfully rushes away and Liam’s left all alone to panic because they’re supposed to start in less than ten minutes – where the fuck is Louis? It’s not like the hall has a bunch of dressing rooms or anything, unless Louis’ run out of here he has still be in the building.

He doesn’t get far before he hears someone hiss at him. He follows the sound into what appears to be a wardrobe, crouching low to try and keep track. He knows it’s Louis hissing at him behind a rack of clothes before he stumbles over and wrenches the clothes apart. Louis’ curled inside the surrounding clothes racks, his hand clenched around a fake fur coat that has an overwhelming smell of mothballs.

Louis looks absolutely stricken, his blue eyes widening comically, and grabs Liam by the hand. He pulls him in besides him and shuts the clothes together again so it’s just the two of them crouching in the semi-dark. Liam can practically feel Louis shaking, that’s how nervous he is – he seems like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. He goes with his instincts and grabs Louis’ hands and squeezes.

“Why did I think this was a good idea? Liam, why didn’t you tell me how shit this was going to be – oh my god I’m going to fall off the stage or forget my lines or get a motherfucking erection in front of the whole school, fuck me, the whole town – Liam,” Louis says, clutching back at Liam’s hand in desperation.

“Look,” Liam says, grabbing Louis’ chin so he’d face him properly and not go off on a tangent and try to strangle himself with the arm of the fur coat. “You’ve been rehearsing for this musical for months. You’re the best, that’s why you’re the lead – I’m pretty sure someone would’ve told you if you were absolute shit, okay? You’re going to be fucking amazing so stop trying to rip my fingers off.”

“Sorry,” Louis says sheepishly but doesn’t let go of Liam’s hand completely, his fingers curled around his loosely. “You think so? Why do I feel like my skin’s going to melt off,” Louis says and pulls a face to show Liam how that would look like. He takes a deep breath and says in a rush, “Why can’t you come up there with me? I wouldn’t be so fucking nervous if you were there.”

“Because I’m not in the play and I can’t act my way out of a paper bag,” Liam says and shuffles forward so their knees are touching.

It’s like that’s all it takes for Louis, he surges forward and hugs Liam tight even if it’s way too dark and cramp and dusty for it to be comfortable for the both of them.

“I know, I’ve seen you try and lie to your mum,” Louis says into the crook of his neck, breathing out shakily against his skin.

“I’ll be right there in the crowd, alright?” Liam says, flattening his palm against Louis’ shoulder blades and feeling the heat bleed through.

“I won’t be able to see you, the lights are too bright,” Louis says and he’s definitely calmed down by now although he still sounds a tad too miserable for Liam’s taste.

Liam untangles himself from Louis, sitting back on his haunches and digging around in his back pocket for the sharpie he’d brought especially for Louis. He has a feeling Louis’ going to be signing some autographs after the show. He holds Louis’ hand down in his lap palm-up and carefully writes out ‘LIAM’ as carefully as he can in the dark.

“There,” Liam says, the smell of the marker sharp in his nose. He pops the cap back on and says, “in case you forget.”

Louis tips forward again, getting up on his knees to hug Liam. They’re both too big to be hiding there in the first place and the clothes rock goes crashing down around them on the opposite side to where Liam came in. They turn around slowly, still clinging to each other, to see the girls in their changing room staring back at them with wide eyes. Not a wardrobe then.

“Let’s get this show on the road, people!” Louis says, detaching himself from Liam. He clambers up on his feet and saunters over towards the little make-up counter they’ve set up for the night. He picks up a fluffy blush and starts to dust it lightly on one of the extras nose and drops it hurriedly when bright pink blooms over the tip of her nose.

“This is the girls’ dressing room,” Cindy says pointedly, holding an eyeliner in her hand like she’s going to stab Liam right in the eyes. He gets shooed out before he even has the chance to tell Louis to break a leg.

Louis’ gets over his nerves almost immediately. He’s a natural born performer and after a shaky start he’s amazing – just as Liam knew he would be. He glances down at his right hand once or twice during his performance. It mostly looks like he’s checking his palm for his lines but it still makes Liam’s heart jolt in his chest.

The whole cast gets a standing ovation and Liam likes to think he claps the loudest, Niall hollering besides him. They continue until most of it dies out, which is a while, and his hands feel like they’re on fire. Louis blows a kiss into the crowd, his lips smacking right in the centre of Liam’s name, and bows for the last time before disappearing back stage.

~

Liam thinks he hears something outside his bedroom window and luckily sticks his head out before a massive rock goes through it instead. He squints down at the sight of Louis holding what appears to be a boulder over his head. He looks as if he’s perilously close to throwing it. It’s too fucking late for this shit and Liam can only lean out, grasp at the tree branch closest to him, and try to figure out if this is a dream.

For what it’s worth, some of his dreams do start out this way, with Louis climbing the tree besides his open window. More often than not, Liam has to admit, with his shirt all ripped from the twigs and branches and it only makes sense for Liam to pull dream Louis into his bedroom and help him out with that.

“Liam! Good, you’re already awake,” Louis mock whispers, flashing a torch up at him. Liam shies away from the light, ducking back inside and yawning. He shivers against the bitter night wind and comes to the conclusion that it is not a dream.

“I really wasn’t, Louis. Go home, it’s like one o’clock in the morning and you’re graduating tomorrow,” Liam whispers right back, his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep.

He leans back out, scrubbing at his eyes until Louis stops shining the light up at him. He almost drops the torch and in the ensuing mad scramble to keep a grip on it, Liam catches a glimpse of everything Louis’ carrying in his arms. They’re loaded with various blankets and something hot pink.

“I can’t sleep, come down,” Louis says. “Please.”

“Give me five minutes,” Liam says and forgets to sigh.

He grabs a soft, worn hoodie off the back of his chair all the while trying to pull his jeans on. He almost trips over himself to crack his chin open on his bedside table but he manages to catch himself in time, fingers scrabbling over his phone before he can get a proper grip on it and shove it into the back pocket of his jeans. He figures he can pretend he was supposed to sleepover Louis’ house all along and forgoes the scribbled note he’d usually leave his parents.

Liam throws his converse trainers out the window and smiles to himself when he hears Louis’ indignant ‘ow!’. He double checks his other back pocket his wallet - just in case they’re going to need cash or, y’know, bail and eases himself out of his window and onto the awaiting tree branch.

His shoulders snag against the windowpane and the splintering wood scratches at the bare skin of his arms but he doesn’t even wince. He breathes in the cold night air until it settles at the bottom of his lungs and climbs his way down the tree briskly – he’s done this thousands of times before. When he glances down to see if he’s in distance to be able to drop down safely, he sees Louis with his arms held out scampering back and forth as if he’s going to catch Liam if he falls. Liam releases his grip on the tree and, like he’d predicted, falls right on Louis.

“You weigh a fucking tonne,” Louis moans even if Liam’s only half on top of him anyway. Liam’s managed to avoid killing the both of them or more importantly landing knee to balls but they’re still a tangle of limbs and blankets on the grass, neither of them making to move any time soon.

“Sorry,” Liam says dryly and doesn’t roll away for the sake of it. “Why are we sneaking out in the middle of the night again? Did you find a puppy because for the last time, Louis, we can’t keep it.”

“That was one time and I was like ten,” Louis mumbles and reaches out to twist Liam’s nipple. Liam’s arm’s awkwardly stuck between them so he isn’t able to intercept in time and he catches Louis’ satisfied smile in his peripheral vision.

“Last year,” Liam coughs into Louis’ shoulder.

“Enough dillydallying, we’ve got stuff to do,” Louis says and pokes at Liam until he moves.

Liam searches around in the dark for his shoes until Louis helpfully shines the light around and pinpoints their location. He shoves his feet in but takes the time to tie them up nice and tight. He’s learnt a long time ago that sneaking out with Louis Tomlinson in the middle of the night was also associated with running for your life. Liam helps Louis gather up the blankets he’d dropped to the side and raises his eyebrow at the hot pink thermos Louis’ got tucked under his arm. He knows it’s Lottie’s but he still doesn’t know what it’s doing outside unless they’re going for a late night tea party.

“Where are we going?” Liam asks but Louis just turns back and smiles at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners and he hasn’t had to say trust me in years.

They end up in the field they got chased off with a gun a couple of years back. It’s easy to make their way through to the middle, the fences all but broken and in shambles. Liam’s only thought about opening his mouth to ask if this is such a good idea when Louis reaches back and grabs his hand, squeezing slightly without another word. It’s not like every other time Liam lets Louis lead him into something, it feels like Louis’ asking, like it’s Liam’s choice whether he wants to be there or not, and Liam’s never had to think twice.

It’s only after they’ve set up the blankets on a patch of grass, throwing the thinnest one over their heads so they can shuffle underneath like they’re still kids getting into their duvet covers to tell scary stories. It’s dark and damp and the only warmth Liam has is Louis by his side but it’s good, it’s them.

“Nervous about tomorrow?” Liam asks softly, shivering at the cold seeping through the blankets they’ve set on the ground.

“No,” Louis says huffily and leans over to try and bite Liam’s ear. He just settles in though, hooking his chin over Liam’s shoulder and curling up against him, his mouth against the shell of his ear.

Liam doesn’t move even if he wants to turn on his side to look Louis in the eye because it’s too dangerous and the earth against his back makes him feel grounded.

“Maybe,” Louis breathes out reluctantly.

Liam tilts his head to the side, nudging Louis’ face gently. He wants to hold his hand again. Just that one thing, he wants to fit their palms together and run his thumb along the familiar skin and he thinks it can’t get worse than that, wanting something so simple.

“I’m graduating tomorrow,” Louis says, his voice even quieter until it almost feels like just puffs of air. “And he’s not going to be here to see it.”

Liam’s brain goes into overdrive trying to remember who Louis could be talking about before it flashes in his mind with neon signs. Liam reaches out and holds his hand without hesitation.

“I just – I thought he might come, y’know, and see me. But he hasn’t made it to anything else, the girls birthdays or the play so I don’t know why but I did,” Louis says in a small voice and it’s breaking Liam’s heart all over again.

“Maybe he-,”

“It’s too late, he won’t be here in time even if he did leave,” Louis says. “It was stupid to think he was going to come, he’s all the way in Australia.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid to want him there for your graduation,” Liam says and Louis sighs again, ducking his head so he’s lips are pressed to Liam’s shoulder instead.

“It’s selfish,” Louis says, the words so close to being lost between the little spaces between them.

“You’re allowed to be selfish, Lou,” Liam says and starts to turn on his side too, he needs Louis to see how much he means that.

Louis startles at the sudden movement though and he starts shifting too, curling away from Liam. He keeps moving until he’s turned his back on Liam, hiding his face from him and breathing all uneven. He still relaxes back into it when Liam follows, tucking his knees behind Louis’ and staying close, the cold tip of his nose at the unbelievably soft hair at the base of his skull.

“I wish he loved us enough to stay,” Louis says and he sounds angry at himself for feeling it in the first place.

Liam wants to gather him up in his arms and kiss his cheeks and tell him it’s okay, he’s allowed to think like this, he’s not betraying anyone. He’s allowed to say the words out loud and feel cheated and hurt without his brain chasing itself in circles, arguing with himself about how life doesn’t work like that and how it’s not that simple. Liam just presses his lips softly against the top of his spine and wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, pulls him in even closer and prays he understands.

After a while Liam can feel Louis’ stomach cease to tremble against the flat of his palm and his shoulders ease down slowly. He sniffles exaggeratedly and turns around, almost elbowing Liam in the nose, and before Liam can do anything like cup his jaw and look into his eyes and keep him from hiding anymore, he tucks himself against Liam’s body.

“S’cold,” Louis murmurs sleepily and fits their legs together and hugs him like they could be lovers.

Louis’ head is tucked under Liam’s chin and his hair’s soft and unstyled against his skin. Liam closes his eyes and thinks it’s not fair, nothing is really. Louis falls asleep slowly, his breathing evening out eventually, and they hide from the cold and the sky and the world underneath an impossibly thin sheet for the night.

Liam mouths the words soundlessly over his head once he’s sure Louis’ asleep.

They share a cup of tea from Lottie’s thermos when the sun starts to creep up, pulling the sheet down to breath in the clean, fresh air. Liam has the words I’m sure he’s proud of you on the tip of his tongue but he’s distracted momentarily at the happy grin Louis throws his way from just being here, at this moment and time, with Liam. It’s then lost completely when they hear someone walking their way and the click of something metallic.

“Holy shit, we’re going to die, I’m going to die before I graduate – grab the sheets!” Louis splutters in frenzy. He’s already running off with the thermos, his precious tea cradled in his hands and a blanket wrapped around his head and draping off his shoulders.

Liam scrambles after him, slipping on the wet grass and choking on a laugh when Louis turns back. Louis throws his head back and laughs, making hurrying motions with his hand until Liam’s all caught up. Louis grabs his hand and they don’t stop laughing or running until they’re well past their fence and back on their street.

“I’ll see you, yeah?” Louis asks once their breathings quietened down. Their neighbours are already getting their day started and Louis shakes at Liam’s hand for a moment before letting go.

“Don’t fall asleep on stage,” Liam says and hands him the rest of the blanket.

Liam thinks for a stupid second that Louis’ going to do something as they stand in the middle of the road, like reach out and kiss him, but he’s already walking away. Liam forces himself to turn around too and climbs his way back up the tree and into his bedroom.

~

The summer’s one of the best Liam’s ever had.

Louis drives Liam and the girls to a travelling carnival a town over and Liam and Louis win a small plush animal zoo for the girls when they get in a competition with each other at one of the games. Liam buys everyone sugary pink fairy floss and they wander around the ground for hours. Louis smiles at him with sweet, sticky lips and Liam wants to lick the taste out of his mouth as much as ever but the good outweighs the hurt, at least for now, and it’s okay. Liam’s happy.

They play football at the nearby park until it gets dark and they’re sweaty and exhausted. They can collapse against each other when everyone’s gone home, grinning at the stars, and content for now. Liam likes those night the best, when it’s exceptionally quiet except for their breathing and the insects and they can stay like that for a while, feels like they can stay like that forever with their heads tucked together. Sometimes they talk and sometimes they don’t but when they do, Liam knows somewhere deep inside that they’re skirting around something big. It’d unravel at a tug, the whole goddamn thing, if one of them felt the need to but neither of them does. They just lie there with their chests heaving, being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

Louis says he’s going to miss Liam twice and both times Liam can’t say anything else in case he starts talking and won’t ever stop, tells him everything he’s bottled up for years now. He feels like he can fill universes with things unsaid.

Louis stomps up the stairs when he’s done helping Karen with the dishes after dinner, an old Woody hat perched on top of his head. It’s too small and already breaking apart but he’s got the strings tied tight under his chin so it won’t fall off. He tackles Liam onto his own bed and says, “You’re my favourite deputy!”

Liam laughs, pushing at him with no real intent and Louis leans down to yell in his best Woody accent, “This town ain’t big enough for the both of us!”

“Alright, alright,” Liam says, sobering up. Everything seems to be a constant reminder that this can’t go on forever as much as Liam’s trying not to think about it.

Louis must notice the change in Liam’s attitude because he just hugs his face to his chest and gives a huge fake-sob. He’s being outrageously silly as he smacks an exaggerated kiss on Liam’s forehead and says, “I’m going to miss you.”

The next time he says it after a house party when they’re walking home together, still a little bit drunk the next morning. Liam’s tired and his body feels sluggish and uncomfortable even without Louis’ heavy weight slumped against his side but he can respond to this unspoken agreement to be as close as possible while they can: the need that’s been laced throughout their summer.

“Miss you already,” Louis says quietly.

Liam bites down on his bottom lip until his teeth leave dents in the smooth skin and it feels less like there’s something balling up in his throat.

~

He should’ve known, it’s literally been coming all year. The graduation’s finished, everyone’s got their exam results in the mail, the summer’s over. Liam knows what he’s been doing subconsciously, the way he locked it up in the back of his mind and refused to acknowledge it.

It hits Liam all at once and it’s crazy how Liam had been able to keep up the front for so long, to be in denial. He helped Louis study for his exams, not so much with the content but keeping him company and making sure he focused and actually got some studying done without burning out. He was there for all the times Louis went stir-crazy and had to let the pent up energy out by taking scheduled breaks to bite Liam or try and start a wrestle inside the library. He pried Louis’ cold fingers away from his face when he was so completely convinced he wasn’t good enough to get into a university.

The fact is: Louis’ leaving.

He’s leaving their tiny town and he’s leaving his mum and his sisters and he’s leaving Liam. It was always the two of them against the world, determined to get out of here. It’s nothing like when they were young and planning to run away before reaching the chips shop and giving up to have a snack instead. Louis’ going off into the next stage of his life, somewhere Liam won’t be able to follow him for another two years, and he’s moving all the way across the goddamn country.

The night before Louis has to drive away and leave him behind, Liam stands in the middle of a crowd with shaking hands and wishes he hadn’t accepted that drink from Niall.

Louis and his classmates throw a party, a great bit party with all the kids going off the university or taking a gap year or backpacking across Europe or whatever - leaving. Liam barely gets to speak to Louis for the rest of the night after being persuaded into joining in the first place. He suddenly can’t breathe, feels desperate in a way like this is it, his last opportunity for what he doesn’t know (everything) and it’s slipping away from him.

Liam knows he should probably go find Louis if he’s going to do anything about it but Niall gets to him first. He’s too tense, too strung-up and Niall easily gets him to do shots with him to calm him down. Liam feels the warmth in his belly and thinks he can do this. His skin’s crawling with the need to do something.

It’s time to take action - he’s waited for so long, it feels like that’s all he’s ever done.

He’s a bit drunk and maybe that’s why he’s convinced it’s such a great idea or wiped out that little voice in the back of his head that tells him all the ways this could go wrong. But Louis’ going to be leaving for university the next day and he won’t be able to see him again for such a long time and Liam needs to find Louis. It’s suddenly become vital for Louis to know before he leaves – like it’d make any difference. All the reasons he couldn’t tell him before disappear with every aching minute he can’t see him.

Liam finally tracks Louis down. He’s coming out of one of the upstairs bedrooms with George – Eleanor and he decided to leave things be since they’re barely going to be seeing each other going to different universities and all that – and he’s laughing with his head thrown back. George wipes at his mouth, looking pleased and Liam wants to throw up. Still, he needs to just get words out, say them out loud and to Louis - it’s the only thing his mind will focus on right now.

“Louis, I need to talk to you,” Liam says when he hits the landing of the stairway. He grabs Louis’ wrist in his hand, fits his fingers over his pulse.

“You okay?” Louis asks, his smile disappearing to be replaced with a worried frown.

Liam shakes his head and tugs at his wrist, starts to pull him away from the crowd and George and the music. He doesn’t stop until they’re making a getaway through the backdoor into the yard. Still there are couples making out everywhere, against the shed and on the trampoline, and Liam really doesn’t want an audience for this. He keeps going, Louis pliant and curious behind him, halfway down the street until the music is nothing but background noise.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, stopping Liam in the middle of the street. He grabs his arm to stop him, holding on until Liam turns around to look at him. “Did something happen? Are you feeling sick?”

Liam wants to shake him because how can someone be so fucking oblivious for so long. Liam can’t handle it anymore, he doesn’t know how to do this – he’s never thought about it, he’s tried so hard to never think about it.

“I love you,” Liam says and he’s must’ve said it a thousand times, before he realised just how much and what it meant, but he hasn’t said it out loud like this before.

“Hey, I love you too,” Louis says easily and reaches out to sling his arm around Liam’s neck and pull him in for a hug.

“No, I -,” Liam says helplessly because he’s not getting it.

He surges forward and kisses Louis. He draws in too fast and hits too hard, the inside of his lip sore against his teeth and he stays there for an aching moment. When he leans back, he finds himself breathing like he’s won a marathon and he’s shaking from the force of it.

“I’m in love with you,” Liam finally says, his shoulders heaving.

He can tell what Louis’ going to say before he says it, he knows the subtle drop of his eyebrows and the pity that starts to filter in his kind blue eyes and he has to kiss him again, desperate and frantic, like it’s the last time he’s ever going to be able to do it again. Louis kisses him back, gentles the frenzy with his lips and tongue and coaxes Liam to calm down against him, his hand cupping Liam’s jaw gently.

Louis pulls back after a while but keeps close so they’re sharing the same air. He strokes his thumb over Liam’s cheek in nothing but consolation.

“I love you, Louis,” Liam says again, trying to make a difference, trying so hard to make Louis feel the same.

“No, you don’t,” Louis says softly and he looks so sad, as if it’s hurting him as much as it’s hurting Liam to let him down like this.

“I do, you can’t tell me how I feel,” Liam says. The back of his throat feels raw and it hurts to take in a hitching breathe. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Liam,” Louis says, his hand sliding back to the nape of his neck, holding him close. “You’re like my brother.”

Liam shakes his head in frustration, opens his mouth to say something else but all he wants to do is laugh. He pulls at Louis’ wrist until his grip loosens because he doesn’t want to hear Louis apologise.

I’m sorry that you’re in love me.

I’m sorry that I’m not.

Louis doesn’t let up, grabbing his shoulders so he can turn him around and they’re facing each other again. He holds Liam’s face in his hands again, crowds into his space and draws him closer at the same time. He presses another kiss to the bow of his lips and stumbles over his words, “We can – we can-.”

“We can what? Louis,” Liam says desperately, trying to see through the pity in his blue eyes and realising there’s nothing else he’s looking for.

“C’mere,” Louis says kindly and kisses him hard in contrast, parts Liam’s lips with his clever tongue and sends heat shooting down his spine and it’s everything he’s wanted but so completely wrong.

This is worse than an apology, what Louis’ offering.

He pushes Louis away hard enough for him to stumble, taking a hasty step back from him at the same time. Liam wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, blinking hard to clear away the tears. “We can fuck? You’re going to let me fuck you? How can you – Lou, that’s not – that’s not what I want. You let all those other people have you and break your heart and I just, I just want you to let me love you.”

Why can’t it be me.

Louis doesn’t reply and instead looks down at the scuffed toes of his shoes and Liam gets it. Maybe Louis knew all along how Liam felt, maybe he did and he felt sorry for him and he didn’t know how to let him down. Maybe it’s the best for the both of them, for Louis to move away so far.

“Liam, where are you going?” Louis asks but Liam’s already walking away from him, wiping at his eyes as if he could prove the tears were never there if he got rid of them fast enough.

Louis doesn’t chase after him. He doesn’t do anything. And Liam ends up in the middle of the street with a bottle of vodka between his legs before Niall takes him home and puts him to bed.

~

Louis takes the stairs two at a time, his bag insistently hitting his thigh with every step. His shitty car’s waiting outside his own house, running mostly on fuel and hope that it’ll reach its destination. Most of his luggage is already packed into the trunk and stacked carefully into the backseat, he’s ready to just get in, start the engine and head off. He’s said goodbye to his mum, his sisters, his friends – Liam’s the only person he cares enough about in this town to make the final pit stop.

He bursts into Liam’s room, the door slamming open and he can hear Karen groan downstairs. He apologises silently and drops his bag by the door. It’s only then he realises that he’s not going to be in this room or this house or this street for a while now.

His greeting dies in his throat when he seems Liam splayed out on the bed on his belly, his cheek smushed against the pillow, an arm and a leg hanging off the frame of the bed. He’s completely out of it, not even Louis’ telltale door slam had been able to wake him, and he’s drooling onto his pillow. The room still reeks of alcohol and it only gets stronger as he nears the bed.

Louis can’t bring himself to wake him up, his footsteps quieting down as he reaches Liam’s bed. He carefully sits down besides his sleeping form, careful not to jostle him too badly. He looks so young and innocent – nothing like how he’d looked at Louis the night before, eyes dark and defiant. Louis reaches out, unhesitant, and smooths his hair off his forehead, his fingertips trailing over his heated skin carefully.

He knows Liam’s going to have a raging hangover once he gets to waking up and probably a fuckload of regrets. He doesn’t know how to deal with last night let alone think about how Liam’s going to deal with this shit when he wakes up. He was drunk and emotional and just scared, afraid he was going to lose Louis – it meant nothing. Louis doesn’t know how to tell him this without embarrassing him any further once he wakes up and then to make matters worse: leave.

He doesn’t want him to have to deal with all that so he just bends down and presses his lips against his forehead.

Liam mumbles something under his breath, his forehead crinkling and his hand reaches out for Louis but falls short, curling around nothing and resting on the bed again. Louis just huffs out a laugh still in a state of disbelief and carefully traces the vulnerable skin of his eyelids just once, twice, with his thumb.

“I do love you, you know,” Louis says conversationally to Liam, dead to the world, and picks up his bag. He closes the door carefully behind him on the way out and makes his way down the stairs slowly.

Louis kisses Karen goodbye on the way out and asks her to go easy on Liam when he wakes up. She hands him in plate of cookies wrapped in cling wrap for the journey up to his university but promises no such thing.

Louis looks up at the tree and at the open window of Liam’s room and feels a painful pang in his gut. Niall probably opened it when he dumped Liam home to make sure the room didn’t smell as rank in the morning. It’s not like Liam expected him, it’s not like Louis thought of climbing up the tree one last time and saying anything else.

Louis tears his gaze away from Liam’s house and back to his own, to his mum crying in the front yard and his little sister’s waving. He has a shitload of cookies from apparently every person with an oven in their town in the passenger’s seat and he tells himself it doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything at all.

He waves for the last time at his family and starts the engine, makes his way down his street and out of this town like he’s wanted to for all he can remember.

~

It’s not like Louis hasn’t been home in two years.

He just hasn’t seen Liam in that long.

~

It isn’t on purpose. Things get in the way and his university is too far away and he gets awfully busy trying to work and study at the same time and he doesn’t want to lose what little chance he has with his life. He doesn’t have the time or the spare cash to come back home every time he gets the opportunity.

Louis still tries his best to make it home for Christmas and always remembers his little sisters’ birthdays and sends gifts whenever he can. But this is the first time in two years he’s taking a break from everything and coming home to spend the whole summer holidays instead of working. It’s odd how he didn’t really feel the length of the two years passing until he saw Liam again.

Louis didn’t start avoiding Liam after he’d gone off to university or deliberately stopped talking to him until they’d almost cut off almost all contact. He didn’t mean to anyway. They gradually drifted apart and the extent of their conversations is a happy birthday or merry Christmas. The other times that Louis had managed to come back home during the break, Liam wasn’t there – he was off in France for a semester or away at summer camp and it hits Louis way harder than he thought it would when he finally does.

He didn’t expect him to look so completely different; he doesn’t know what the fuck he was expecting in the first place. He can’t believe it’s only been two years. Louis’ getting the last of his things out of his car, the bright glare of the sun turning the worn metal hot to the touch and burning his skin, when he sees him.

Liam’s shaved his head like he always wanted to and the short bristled haircut looks so different from his natural curls. He’s filled out around the shoulders, much broader than he used to be and it catches Louis off-guard. He looks like he could be a stranger, someone Louis hasn’t touched or met before.

But then he smiles, and just like that it’s Liam again with his eyes squinting shut from the force of it. He doesn’t look cold or impersonal anymore, he just looks like Liam.

Liam hasn’t noticed him yet and he pushes at the boy besides him. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and Louis can see from across the street the muscles in his arms work when he grabs his friend’s arm to keep him from toppling over into a rosebush. He swings his arm around his neck in comfortable companionship and keeps him close even through the heat. The boy laughs against the crook of Liam’s neck, his other hand curling at his waist and – well, they look happy.

Louis turns around, forgetting to even shut the trunk because the noise might draw attention to him. He doesn’t know what it is exactly that he’s doing – maybe he just needs a moment or two to regroup because Liam looks so fucking good, all broad and tanned and tall, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react after everything. Louis would rather go inside his house and ask his mum what Liam’s on because he’s almost unrecognisable form the mostly scrawny kid that used to crawl into his bed all knees and elbows than to do the reunion schtick now.

Before he can run away in confusion like a fucking wimp – which, why is he doing in the first place when it’s just Liam – he hears his name. Louis winces, still facing the other way and seriously considers running into his house and pretending he hadn’t heard, and realises for the last time his life is not a fucking movie. He turns around slowly with a smile already in place.

“Hey!” Louis says loudly, overcompensating for this weird feeling, like nostalgia mixed with nerves with foreboding, with artificial cheeriness.

Liam runs over to his side of the street immediately, his friend trailing over after him with a curious expression on his face.

“Hi!” Liam says once he’s close enough to not shout. “I didn’t know you were coming back home for the summer,” he says and looks like he’s going to go in for a hug but pulls back before they make contact, his hands dropping awkwardly to his side.

Louis’ just glad he’s hands are full and he doesn’t make a fool of himself by tackling Liam into a hug. He has missed him so much, but he’s still waiting in dread for something to happen. Liam doesn’t seem to have that problem, he doesn’t seem to have any problem with seeing Louis what so ever and he just smiles down at Louis, scratching idly at the back of his head.

“Yeah, well, my sisters were forgetting what I looked like,” Louis says, attempting to lighten his tone. He fidgets with the water bottle and the banana that Harry gave him before he left in his hands in lieu of anything better to do. “What happened to your hair?” Louis asks, genuinely curious.

“Zayn just shaved it all off one afternoon,” Liam says, bumping Zayn’s side with his elbow.

Zayn reaches up and rubs his palm against Liam’s hair as if it’s only natural he takes ownership of his work. Liam obliges him easily, ducking slightly to make it easier for Zayn and leaning into his side. Zayn drops his hand back to his side and gives Louis a frighteningly knowing grin.

“Nice to meet you, Louis,” Zayn says and sticks his hand out for a handshake.

Louis shakes his hand, very vaguely remembering him from school. He doesn’t really leave a solid trace in his memories but there’s wisps of him that makes Louis think he should. Zayn draws his hand back and rests it on the nape of Liam’s neck and Louis feels something like a spike of jealousy or sadness or he doesn’t fucking know – he just knows he probably isn’t in the place to do anything like that anymore and it’s more upsetting than he’d realised.

“Well, we’ve actually got to run,” Zayn says and digs his fingers in so Louis can see how it dents into his skin. When he turns his gaze back to Zayn, he gives him another meaningful smile and raises both eyebrows.

“It was good seeing you again,” Liam says easily, so fucking casual, and lets himself be turned away, being tugged around by Zayn’s deft fingers.

“You too,” Louis says instead of I missed you.

~

And he did. It’s not a secret to Louis that he’s missed Liam. He’s missed him fiercely, almost constantly for a long time until it got manageable but now that he’s back home he just misses him even more which doesn’t make sense. He’s right across the street. Louis saw him this morning when he was taking out the trash.

But it does in a sense – Louis misses how it used to be.

And that’s really not fair.

Liam is in love with him – he was in love with him and he can’t miss that, that’s cruel and selfish. He doesn’t want to keep hurting the person that means the most to him. He misses Liam and Louis though, how good they were together. He just wants him back in his life like that again, he doesn’t know if it’s something he deserves.

Because it’s almost like Louis’ the one to blame for what happened years ago in the middle of a darkened street. He thinks he should’ve known – and maybe he did, buried somewhere deep down where he could refuse to acknowledge the fact that Liam might have felt differently and have done for a while. That’s so fucking selfish it leaves Louis unable to grasp how he can be so unthinking and brutal.

He wants to make it up to Liam now. The two years of not speaking or seeing each other was probably the stupidest thing Louis’ done in his life and he regrets it more than ever. Nothing had to change, he constantly tells himself, but Louis’ a fucking coward and Liam deserves the best.

Louis’ going to try to make it right with Liam, it’s the least he can do.

~

Sometimes Louis gets careless and unthinking and he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone, especially not someone he care s about as much as Liam.

Like Louis’ first date with Hannah, knocking shoulders with Liam in their booth, grinning over at him now and again as if he still couldn’t Hannah was out on a date with him even if she was sitting right across from him. He isn’t dumb, he’s as learned as he can get when it comes to Liam and he knew Liam was uncomfortable or distracted or something. He kept covering his mouth with his palm and snapping back to attention when Louis tried to drag him back into the conversation.

Louis comes back down from his elation a bit because Liam’s only here because he’s a good person and he’s an even better friend and he doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all. It wasn’t Louis’ intention to make him miserable, it could never be, but things always spiral out of his control like this. It’s infuriating.

“Excuse me, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom,” Hannah says and Louis looks up in dismay but she still seems entertained and lovely as ever, she doesn’t look like she’s running away from him. Her friend gets up as well, chiming in with the usual, “I’ll come with you.”

They both disappear from their sight to the back of the pizza place and Louis takes the time to reach over Liam and pluck out a napkin from the little silver dispenser. He pulls a face and waves it in front of Liam’s face.

“I know you’ve been wanting to all night,” Louis says with a long-suffering sigh.

Liam makes a face right back at him and Louis wishes Linda could see this, how much of a wonderful geek his best friend really is. Liam pulls the napkin out of his fingers and Louis shakes his head in mock-disappointment as Liam dabs at his pizza. He doesn’t say anything else, they’ve been through this a million times – and people think Louis’ the weirdo, honestly.

“I think she really likes you,” Liam says and stuffs his face with the pizza so he won’t be able to talk for a while.

Louis brightens up immediately, perking up in his seat and leaning right into Liam’s space to discern if he’s humouring him or not. “You think? I don’t know how I started talking about pig’s intestines but for some reason I couldn’t stop,” he says anxiously, he doesn’t really need to pretend with Liam.

Liam then grins at him, looking like a ridiculous chipmunk with the way his cheeks are loaded with pizza. Louis smiles right back because at least someone enjoyed his colourful anecdote about pigs intestines. It was probably a colourful anecdote, Louis’ not too sure what he said. Louis picks a peperoni off Liam’s pizza since his is flung about all over their table. He gets nervous and then his hands get nervous and he couldn’t stop gesturing the whole time.

“Are you not having as much as fun then?” Louis asks, slinging an arm around Liam’s neck and pulling him in closer. He reaches up to pick a stray olive out of his hair and pops it into his mouth even if Liam yelps and then settles into resigned.

He seems torn between leaning into his side like he usually would, fitting together almost like they’ve grown to fill each other’s hollow spaces, and jerking away nervously. It’s unusual and Louis’ not used to it so he lets go of his hold on him.

“I’m just a bit flushed is all, it’s hot in here,” Liam says defensively.

The girls come back momentarily and slide back into the booth. The conversation resumes normally and Liam takes the trouble to ask Linda a question about her grandpa. Louis squeezes his hand from under the table, grinning triumphantly when Liam squeezes back.

Maybe that’s always been the problem; Liam’s just too good to Louis, far more than he deserves.

~

Louis likes being home; he’s missed this town a lot more than he figured. He also feels terribly guilty for wanting to leave so much in the first place when his family’s right here and for enjoying it. The girls have grown so much in two years and he’s missed talking to his mum face to face. She keeps looking at him like he’s something to be proud of, smoothing her hands over his cheeks and smiling and Louis wants to apologise a thousand times over for wanting out, somehow explain he’s not his dad. He’s not abandoning them.

He spends as much time as he can with his little sisters, trying to make up for it. He teaches the twins how to do handstands in their front yard, falling onto his back more often than not because he’s not really great at them himself. They seem to find it a delight though, giggling madly as they try to do the same, Louis trying to hold onto their ankles so they don’t go toppling over. He almost drops Phoebe’s feet when Liam waves at him from across the street, carrying his mum’s groceries and laughing when Daisy does a neat little cartwheel and waves back enthusiastically.

He tries to make it up to his mum as well, giving her and his step-dad ample time together. They both still work so Louis offers to do the grocery shopping and to take the girls to the park and the movies and drop them off to their friends’ houses. He tries to get his parents to go on more dates, even tries to give them some money to go to that fancy place he saved up for weeks to take Eleanor and he hopes they hear it.

I’m sorry for being a bad son, I love you.

He thinks Liam might understand since he always understood Louis. Or maybe he won’t, Louis sometimes thinks he only chose to see the good parts of Louis.

~

His mum tells him how Karen needs as much help as she can get clearing out the attic and sends him over to do so. She gives him a knowing look before shoo-ing him out of the house. Louis distantly thinks he’s twenty and she doesn’t really need to send him over to help anyway, he would’ve done it on his own accord (most definitely probably).

He heads over to Liam’s house across the street at noon, already sweating through his thin t-shirt in the swelling heat. Liam’s out in his front yard piling the boxes on the doorstep, his shirt clinging to his chest and his cheeks ruddy and flushed.

“Have you been working all morning?” Louis asks when he’s in earshot. He stops in his yard and bounces on the balls of his feet, hands shoved deep into his pocket to survey the area.

Liam turns around in surprise, wiping his face with his forearm, his eyes squinting at the sun behind Louis. He doesn’t say anything for a little while, struggling to open his eyes from the sting of sweat and glare of the sun and come up with something to say at the same time. He looks like he’s caught off-guard, nothing like how he was yesterday with Zayn by his side and Louis takes pity on him. He doesn’t think he needs to make this any more awkward than it already is. He strides forward, freeing his hands from his pockets and bends over to lift up a box off the doorstep.

“What are you doing?” Liam asks as Louis sets it down on the lawn with the rest of the boxes and goes back for the others piled just inside the house.

“Helping, Liam, keep up,” Louis says and pulls a face as if Liam’s being slow on purpose. He bends over again and struggles with it momentarily before he regains control and thinks he’s too young to have a bad back already and determinedly continues as if everything’s normal.

“You don’t do manual labour,” Liam points out but he also snaps back into action. He follows Louis back this time into the doorway of his house and grabs two boxes stacked on top of each other, biceps flexing from the strain.

“I resent that,” Louis says, taking mock-offense. He doesn’t know what makes him do it, the heat’s probably making him stupid and slow, but he reaches out with his hand and palms at the back of Liam’s head like he’s wanted to since he first saw him. The short hair tickles his palm and Liam’s head is very warm against him.

Liam, to his credit, only laughs and ducks his head slightly as if he’s used to it. Louis’ hand falls to his side and he watches Liam put the box down in the grass, the muscles in his back straining as he bends.

He tries to remember how it used to be and how to get it back like that as fast as possible. Natural, they used to be like breathing – Louis tells himself there’s no reason to be walking on egg-shells. Liam seems to be over what happened two years ago, he doesn’t even seem to remember it and it affirms Louis’ over-analysis of it to be fear of losing him coupled with too many drinks and bad case of word vomit. He seems to be over it, over Louis, doesn’t even seem fazed by the fact they haven’t really talked in two years. If Liam can do this, Louis definitely can. He finds that most of all he wants to.

“What are we supposed to be doing with all this?” Louis asks when they get all the boxes out of the house and off the doorsteps and onto the freshly mown grass.

“Well,” Liam says and huffs out a laugh, “they were divided into the goods we were donating and the trash but you kind of mixed them all up again.”

He scratches at the back of his head sheepishly and peers up at Louis. He tugs at the collar of his shirt shortly and, really, that’s distracting enough - there’s a droplet of sweat rolling just past his collarbone – Louis’ only human after all. He pulls his entire shirt off before long, using it to wipe his face before tucking it into the waistband of his shirts.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Louis splutters out, feeling flustered and slow all at once. He stares at the mess of boxes on the lawn instead of at Liam because he was always a good-looking lad but holy shit when did that happen.

“You were working! I didn’t want to disturb that. Who knows when that will happen again?” Liam asks, turning around the survey the boxes with a small smile.

“Cheeky,” Louis says, pointing his finger at Liam and narrowing his eyes. His voice fails at achieving a warning tone though, it comes out more fond and almost grateful. Because he can do this, Liam’s helping him do this - or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“It’s pretty obvious which ones are trash though, it won’t take long,” Liam says, crouching down to peek in a box. He places it over to the side and looks into another before placing it in the open trunk of his car.

“Donations in the car?” Louis asks, kneeling on the grass to do the same.

Liam makes a sound of affirmation followed by a grunt as he lifts a particularly heavy box into the trunk. They work silently for a little while, the atmosphere not entirely uncomfortable – just different. Louis’ about to open his mouth and ask what Zayn’s doing and why he isn’t helping Liam but before he can even get his name out, he saunters out of the goddamned house like a fucking magician. Louis almost drops the box of old Christmas sweaters to gape at him silently and then shuts his mouth with a small click when Zayn just smiles at him serenely.

His face is too symmetrical. If Louis was picking at flaws right now he’d have to say Zayn’s face was too symmetrical.

“I brought you guys water,” Zayn says, standing in the doorway in his clean, dry shirt. He looks completely at home, not even breaking a sweat as Louis toils away in the sun. He’s pretty sure his cheeks have gone that blotchy pinkish colour and his fringe is sweaty and lanky.

Zayn wriggles his eyebrows at Liam when he sees he’s taken his shirt off but Liam only mutters a shy, “Shut it.” He grabs the glass of water off him and rubs it against his cheek.

“How long have you been here? Why aren’t you helping?” Louis asks, his tone almost confrontational. He almost trips over a box to fall humiliatingly on his face before he catches himself at the last second. Liam grabs his arm long after he’s steadied himself and Louis just shoots him a smile in thanks, turning even redder.

“I was helping Karen throw out some clothes,” Zayn says, his eyes still glued on the way Liam’s flushed cheeks. “Mate, I love her but she’s like stuck in the 90’s.”

“Stop pretending like you’re not going to take half her closet,” Liam says and lets go of Louis. He downs his half the water in his glass in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. He makes a truly pornographic sound of appreciation when he stops to take a breath.

Louis sips at his water and wonders what he’s done in his previous life to have to witness them flirting.

“You look really hot,” Zayn says and Louis chokes on his water because that’s not even subtle. Louis thinks Zayn’s lucky he’s pretty because he has no fucking game.

“Like over-heated. Here, this will help,” Zayn says and grabs the glass of water off Liam, their interaction so easy and fluid, it makes something pang deep in Louis’ guts.

Zayn proceeds to throw the rest of the water at Liam’s face without warning so he’s just standing there dripping with water. Liam blinks rapidly, too busy trying to get the water out of his eyes to see how Zayn’s almost dying with laughter, obviously trying to pass on some inside joke through his eyes. Liam ignores it and just grabs the hem of Zayn’s t-shirt, tugging it up over his belly so he can wipe his face.

“What are you doing?” Liam asks quietly once leans in close enough to Zayn. There’s not much noise in their street anyway at the moment, it’s eerily quiet, and Louis can still hear them as if they weren’t whispering.

“I’m trying to help you out, mate, art of seduction 101,” Zayn whispers back but he glances up at smiles brightly at Louis as if he meant for him to hear.

Liam just pushes at Zayn until he disappears back into the house with his dampened t-shirt and shrugs at Louis.

At this point Louis’ too fucking confused to figure out what just happened, is Zayn trying to macho him off his man or is he just fucking weird, and offers the rest of his water to Liam. Zayn and Liam seem to have a very odd yet sexually charged relationship and he’s not going to push it – it isn’t any of his business.

“Hey, what’s this?” Louis asks even though he’s opened the box and caught a glimpse. He almost crows in delight when he realises what it is and falls down onto the lawn, sitting with his legs crossed. He pulls the box in front of him and starts to delve in.

“That’s not-,” Liam starts to rush forward but stills when Louis starts to pull the stuff out, not noticing Liam’s discomfort yet.

“I haven’t seen this shit since – oh my god, we were babies,” Louis says, pulling out the photo at the very top.

He can’t pinpoint the exact date they took the photo, he doesn’t remember having it taken in the first place. Judging by the state of Liam’s hair he was probably around fourteen and kept well away from his sister’s hair straightener. In the picture Louis is attempting to take a bite out of his head while Liam’s laughing, his eyes shut from the force of it, his hands holding on tight to Louis’ forearm around his neck. It’s was taken by one of the Jay’s old cameras Louis had found. He didn’t know Liam had developed the damn thing.

“Wasn’t this after Kia dumped you after four days via note and you were pretending to be alright?” Louis asks, okay so maybe he does remember the exact moment.

“Yeah,” Liam says quietly and when Louis turns his head again, he’s still frozen in his spot. Louis frowns up at him in confusion, wanting to reach for his hand and tug him down beside him so they can go through the box together.

“I haven’t seen this in ages. I didn’t know you had it this whole time I was looking for it,” Louis says, pulling out a ratty old t-shirt that had always been a bit big on him anyway.

He used to wear it to bed and after one of their sleepovers it just disappeared. He doesn’t mind all that much, he didn’t spend too long looking for it. It’s got no special attachments to it or anything, it was basically his pyjamas but now that he’s pulling it out of the box, all dusty and worn, he can’t help grinning at the obnoxious superman print.

Louis keeps rummaging through the box, his fingers curling around the old friendship bracelet he’d made in Year Two and more pictures and little trinkets from what seems like eons ago. He stops abruptly when he finds a picture of himself, just of Louis, tucked right at the bottom. Liam must have taken the photo because he’s not looking right into the lenses, not smiling for the camera but at the person who’s holding the camera.

Then it dawns on him, the reason why all of this was packed up in a box on the doorstep. The sun’s still too fucking hot, burning the back of his neck a bright red, and his heart slows down to a heavy beat and he gets it. He starts to put the items back inside the box slowly, trying to process it and react in a way he won’t regret. He understands why Liam’s been so quiet in the last few moments because maybe Louis’ just fucked it all up again. He still manages to slip the picture of the both of them into the back of his jeans as he closes the box and stands up. He picks it up and holds it between both hands as if in offering to Liam.

“Trash or donation?” Louis asks even if he knows the answer. Who the fuck donates old pictures?

Liam grabs the box off him and looks him straight in the eyes to say, “Trash.”

He puts the box back down with the rest of the pile of trash and resolutely doesn’t meet Louis’ face. He’s grateful for that at the very least because he wouldn’t look himself in the mirror right now. He just feels hollowed out inside.

“Karen says to come in for a snack before you both pass out from heat exhaustion or unresolved sexual tension or whatever,” Zayn says with a laugh as he saunters out of the house again.

“Actually, I promised to take the girls to the pool,” Louis says, awkwardly waving at the both of them before stepping over the hedge instead of going out the driveway like a normal person. He almost falls but he’s already making his way across the road, thumbing at the photograph in his back pocket.

“Louis, wait,” Liam says, his shoulders sagging down, almost as if he’s defeated. He makes as if he’s going to grab at Louis but Zayn grabs his hand instead and tugs him away.

“Tell your mum I’m sorry I couldn’t help you finish up,” Louis says and flashes a smile before spinning around, the photograph already hidden in his palm.

Louis goes back into his house and has an equal parts punishing and refreshing cold shower for an hour and takes the girls to the pool even if he has to persuade them to go.

~

There’s a knock on the door and Louis dumps Phoebe on the couch to get it. It’s probably his mum, she’s out on a date with his step-dad and she’s terrible with her keys. always forgets something and Louis already got a hand in the key bowl, blindly searching for her key while his other hand yanks the door open.

The same time he realises there’s nothing in the bowl, he realises it’s not his mum.

“It wasn’t trash. It was just in the attic and mum must’ve brought it down by mis-,” Liam starts to say, standing there on his doorstep with that earnest look on his face.

“Whoa, hey, Liam,” Louis says, holding his hand up to stop the onslaught. He swallows hard and looks Liam straight in the eye and says honestly, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Louis, you don’t either,” Liam says, his hands dropping to his side, beat.

“Oh,” Louis says and thinks he understands better now.

They stand like that for a little while, just staring at each other with Liam still stranded on his doorstep. Louis steps to the side, pushes the door open wider and tilts his head to the side.

“Wanna come in and marathon One Tree Hill with us? We have pizza,” Louis asks, his heart jumping to his throat.

They used to marathon all sorts of shit together, mostly Liam’s dad’s old movies. Toy Story was, of course, always a classic and any superhero movie was a good one. Scary movies were a favourite too; they always went back to them even if neither of them liked them very much. Still, they enjoyed torturing themselves during sleepovers, cuddled up on Louis’ rickety old fold out couch.

It’s because it was rare for Louis to actually feel like an older brother to Liam, they were always on too much of an equal footing for that. Watching scary movies though, especially when they used to be younger, always did make him feel like he was taking care of Liam.

“Holy crap, no – don’t,” Liam says, his finger twitching over Louis’ arm.

Louis’ jumps when the door in the movie slams open. He’s practically half on top of Liam in the first place but the black demon thing coming out of the girls’ throat only persuades him to somehow shuffle even closer. Louis’ clutching at Liam’s arm as well, fingers digging in as his pulse races and he’s tempted to close his eyes.

Liam makes a sound like he’s thinking fuck it and hides his face against the crook of Louis’ neck. He’s soft and warm and comforting, Liam always is, but Louis’ the one who’s comforting him now. Louis grins, a bit pleased even if his heart is hammering because what the fuck why is the girl scaling a wall with her hair because he feels like he can protect Liam - be better for him.

He cards his fingers through Liam’s hair, keeping him close and tucked into the skin of his neck. He nudges his head with his cheek, rubbing slightly. Liam must take that as a sign that things are less demon-y and glances up. He immediately disappears, making a despondent noise in his throat, his arm tightening around Louis’ waist. Louis thinks he shouldn’t be enjoying Liam being scared so much.

It’s just. Sometimes he feels like he’s the only one that’s has reason to be terrified in this world and Liam knows how to pick up the pieces that make Louis whole. It’s nice to have it reversed, even if it’s just a silly scary movie.

“It’s alright, love,” Louis says and rubs his thumb against Liam’s neck.

They spent hours slumped on his couch like coach potatoes, eating the pizza that Liam brought over and trying to decide which movie to watch next. He wants to do that again, Louis wants it more than ever.

He waits nervously for Liam’s answer, his finger tapping against the door anxiously.

Liam doesn’t reply for another moment but he finally relents, a small smile on his face that makes Louis sad more than anything else, and enters his house. He shuts the door behind him and follows after Louis into their living room, cheering along with the girls when they welcome him in. Louis doesn’t know what he expected, for his family to have stopped talking to Liam when he did maybe, but he figures out how stupid he’s being. Of course Liam still came over, he lived right across the street and he always used to be here. He changed as much diapers as Louis did, being baby of the family he didn’t really get that job at home.

They settle in on the sofa with Louis’ youngest sisters and click play. Louis can’t help sneaking glances at Liam as they go through the episodes, chewing slowly on his pizza like he can’t really multitask that well. He’s right there, sitting a heartbeat away, and Louis could reach out and feel his skin and bones under his palms if he wanted to.

Louis wants to know more about Liam, what he’s been doing with his life, how he’s doing in school, what subjects he chose, how did he meet Zayn, does he still hang out with Niall, does he still dab his pizza with a napkin like a fucking twat.

Liam just folds his pizza in two and jams it in his mouth, nodding his head along to the theme song and Louis feels lost. But he turns his head away from the screen to grin at him, lips slick and shiny with grease, and Louis’ just becomes more determined to find out all that’s changed.

They end up falling asleep on the couch and Louis only wakes up when Fizz blows air on his face and whispers, “Wake up old man, we’re going to bed.”

He rouses to tuck them in and he’s stumped for a moment when he realises he can’t move. He makes a panicked noise but Fizz just giggles and pats Liam’s head resting on his shoulder. She escapes his clutches before Louis can grab her and ask her for help. Brat. Why does Louis even have sisters.

“Liam,” Louis tries half-heartedly but Liam just mumbles something and rubs his cheek against the material of his t-shirt.

Louis gives up, to be fair he didn’t try very hard in the first place, and sinks back into the sofa, Liam a warm, heavy weight by his side. He glances down and from this angle he can only see the outline of his nose and his lips smushed into his arm but it makes tenderness well up in his throat all the same. He figures he’ll just stay like this for a little while.

Louis must have fallen asleep because wakes up again in the middle of the night, long after his parents have come back home and gone up to bed, and he can barely make out the blue tint of dawn outside through the thin, white curtains. He startles out of his sleep and he blinks hard a couple of times to get his eyes to focus. He doesn’t need his glasses or contacts to see Liam up so close.

They’re both stretched out on the sofa and they’re tucked against each other like they’re meant to fit, their arms around each other and legs threaded. It’s warm and comfortable even if Louis knows he’s going to have a crick in his neck and possibly a bad back when he wakes up properly. Liam’s so close, deep in his sleep and he looks sweet and unguarded. From this close he can see the light freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose from staying out in the sun for hours the day before.

Louis turns his head, forces himself to stop being such a creep and actually watch someone sleep, and his lips brush against Liam’s ever so slightly. It’s just the edge of his lips against Louis’ but it still makes his heart stop in his chest for a terrifying second and then there’s a rushing in his ears. He’s convinced if Liam was awake he would have been able to hear the manic thumping of his heart against his chest, the way they’re pressed together, and realises with blinding clarity that he wants to kiss him.

He wants to kiss him soft and slow, press their lips together sweetly until Liam starts to rouse, his mouth parting under Louis’ too, welcoming. He wants to kiss him awake in the mornings and he wants to kiss him hello and he wants to kiss him for the sake of kissing and –

Louis ducks his head down in panic. He knows he should be scrambling away from Liam at this point but he can’t, he hides his face against Liam’s shoulder and Liam just pulls him in closer. He knew it was always Louis that had been the problem. He screws his eyes shut, feeling like he’s fucked everything up and it’ll be a painful knot of barbed wire for the rest of his life and he won’t ever get close to untangling it.

Louis doesn’t know how he falls asleep again at the state that he’s in but the solid warmth of Liam’s body must draw him under because when he wakes up again, the sun starting to shine in through the window, Liam’s not there. He hears the front door shut quiet; Liam’s even stepped over the squeaky bits of the floorboard like he remembers exactly where they are.

It’s not like anything else from before, Louis thinks, and scrubs his palms across his face.

Louis makes himself get up on his feet and start cleaning the living room. He piles the pizza boxes together and sets all the cups and dishes in the sink, tries to keep his hands busy so he won’t have to sit down and look at them. Useless, he wants to sense his skin under his palm more than anything else and it feels like he’s been betrayed.

He carefully re-inserts the circular disks into their cases and pushes it into the shelf, smooths everything down and goes back into the kitchen to do the dishes. There’s a kind of fatigue weighing down his limbs, centred on his shoulders, and it all hurts in a way he can’t really explain for someone who’s had a full night of sleep.

And the fact of it is – Liam’s been part of his life for so long. As stupid as it is to think, he’s everywhere, lingering traces of him over the scar on Louis’ knee and inside his exam notes and the spaghetti stain on the corner of the couch. Louis runs his fingertip over the small chip in Liam’s favourite cup, the one he always used to drink out of when he was over, an old mug with a logo of a town Louis’ never been in. But he’s mostly right across the street too.

Louis’ head hurts, he doesn’t want to think anymore but it’s so quiet in the early morning there’s nothing left to drown it all out, he can’t even turn the radio on. He finishes with the dishes, barely manages to dry his hands before he sinks down onto the kitchen floor and slumps against the counter. If he stretches his leg out he can barely toe at the burn mark in front of the oven from that time they tried to make cookies for Louis’ valentine.

It ended in a goddamn mess of course, Louis’ pretty sure he would’ve burnt the house down if Liam wasn’t there. Most of the trouble began before they even managed to put the cookie dough into the oven.

“Is this unbelievably corny? You’d tell me if I was being a cornball, wouldn’t you?” Louis asks, ceasing to mix the batter to glance up at Liam. Louis’ going with the wind, it’s cookie dough, there aren’t too many ways to screw it up. Of course Liam had read the back of the pack and was there to grab Louis’ wrist when he was went to heavy on anything.

“I think,” Liam pauses with a wicked grin, “you’re pretty much the corniest person I know.”

“What does that even mean?” Louis says desperately. It’s like when you say a word one too many times and it starts sounding weirder and weirder until it loses its original meaning. He wants Lana to like his cookies, he wants Lana to like him.

“I think it’s sweet,” Liam says finally. He leans over to peer into the bowl in curiosity, his face fringe flopping over to hide his face.

“That’s even worse,” Louis says with a groan, he’s trying to be dashing and manly and make Lana faint and swoon at the sight of his dashing and manly and non-existent 6 pack. Liam just laughs at him because he takes great delight in Louis’ failures (that’s either true or fair).

“Are we actually not going to eat the batter this time then?” Liam asks after a brief pause, raising one eyebrow up. He has the gall to look innocent.

Louis lasts seven seconds before he breaks and Lana and the valentine present is forgotten in a flurry and they’re eating the raw mix with their fingers. It’s just so good and the usually sensible Liam always forgets how this ends for the five minutes of pure bliss. They manage to save the very last bits of it all to actually put in the oven and bake but at this point they’re both clutching at their stomachs. Louis doesn’t think it’s dramatic at all to lie down on the kitchen floor and start groaning like someone is hacking away at his insides.

“Why does this always happen?” Louis asks, fingers curled over his belly. It hurts.

Liam looks like he’s going to answer, opening his mouth, but he just jumps to his feet and runs for the toilet. Louis thinks that’s being a bit overdramatic. Still, he wrinkles his nose in sympathy when he hears Liam being sick in the toilet bowel and starts to get up on his feet too. They need to stop eating really cheap cookie dough.

He rubs Liam’s back, complaining extensively about Liam’s sensitive digestive system, running his hand up and down his back. He pinches at his side and Liam cries out, tries to push him away because he’s trying to vomit here, he doesn’t want to projectile laugh vomit all over the floor. It’s completely disgusting but Liam’s still laughing between heaving breathes and it’s much funnier than it has any right to be.

It’s not until Liam’s brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he keeps at Louis’ house and gargled the mouth wash, shaking water out of his damp fringe, that they smell the smoke. It’s all really funny in hindsight, the way they turned to each other with identical expressions of dismay on their faces.

Liam’s the first to move. He opens his mouth as if to ask Louis if he set the timer or got the temperature right in the first place. He shuts it abruptly, his shoulders sagging when he realises who he’s talking to. Then it’s a flurry of limbs and tripping over each other’s feet, racing to the kitchen and skidding along in horror. There’s a mad scramble to get the oven open and Louis freaks out because fire and suddenly everything is on the floor.

The smell still lingered when Louis’ mum came home, no matter how much they sprayed everything down with every perfume and deodorant spray they could find.

Louis laughs but it’s not at the memory, he’s laughing at nothing much, more to keep himself intact for a little while longer. He runs his hands through his hair until it’s sticking on its ends and rubs at the mark again with his toes. He slumps back against the sink cupboards, his head thunking loud against it as he attempts to exhale slowly.

He makes himself get up again. He wants to go back to sleep, preferably in his bed. He doesn’t fancy spending another few hours on the kitchen floor after spending the night on the couch. He thinks he could sleep on the couch forever if he had Liam with him.

“Hey,” Jay says softly just as Louis’ about to go into his room, his hand curled around the doorknob.

“Hi,” Louis says just as softly and smiles even if he’s tired because she looks happy and well-rested and beautiful. He rests his cheek against the doorway, leans up against it for support and keeps a fierce grip on the doorknob. It feels like one gentle tug and he’ll unravel completely.

“Movie night with Liam? I remember those, I’d find popcorn in the oddest corners for weeks,” she says with a fond smile. She tilts her head and just looks at him and it’s not even meaningful or all-knowing but it feels like she knows exactly how tired he is.

“Sorry,” Louis says, trying to keep his tone light-hearted and having to clear his throat. “I’m sorry,” he croaks out again.

He’s not talking about the stupid popcorn and she knows, of course she knows, she’s his mum. He’s nothing to be proud of. She deserved so much better. Louis’ going to blame the fact he’s had a pretty shitty night and he’s bone-tired and hurting but there’s a persistent lump in the back of his throat that won’t go away and he can’t seem to look her in the eye.

“Darling,” she says and steps closer, lifts his face with her worn, worked palms and says, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

She kisses his cheek and pulls him in for a hug. Louis lets himself be held like a child for another moment, holding onto the back of her dressing gown as her smooths the soft hairs at his nape. When Louis closes the door behind him all he wants to do is collapse into his bed and sleep so he won’t do anything as stupid as cry like a little kid.

~

Louis hadn’t done it in ages but before he left, he grabbed one of Liam’s shoes, his converse trainers, and scribbled his name on the sole one last time. He didn’t tell him, he figured he might or might not find it. He wondered if he actually did see it or if he just wore his shoes and the name rubbed off, forgotten and lost, before he had a chance.

~

After all that, Louis thinks the best way to go about things is to keep himself busy. He does the grocery shopping with Lottie and helps around the house. He says hi to Niall when he sees him working at the deli section and Daisy hits him on the head for not taking her with him to see him when he gets home. He meets some of his old friends that he doesn’t feel all that guilty about losing touch with and goes to watch a movie at the old cinema and walks along the familiar beaten paths under the burning sun.

Eleanor’s home for about a week of the summer holidays and she immediately invites him over to her house. It’s as good as any reason to get drunk during the day – like real adults. He knocks on the door, not knowing exactly how he should be acting since he hasn’t seen her in a little while, but she just throws the door open with a huge smile and grabs him by the face. It’s easy to fall into the rhythm after that, it always was with El. She hauls him inside and kisses both of his cheeks giddily; belching in his face and Louis figures she’s started without him. Louis wrinkles his nose at her but he realises he’s missed her too.

They spend the rest of the afternoon lounging around on her massive bed upstairs like they used to, Louis’ head pillowed on her flat stomach with the telly turned down low so they can still talk over it. It’s nice and comfortable and easy and Louis thinks he should be more careful when he’s had a bit too much to drink and he’d forgotten how it was always just so easy to talk to her.

They don’t talk about anything Louis considers dangerous for a while, recounting the good old days which were mostly getting off in the janitor’s closet or that one time their Geography class went camping and Louis tried to sneak into her tent only to get stuck in the zip. Eleanor laughs easily, her tummy moving under Louis’ cheek, and his answering smile is pressed against the soft cotton of her huge shirt. She cards her slim fingers through his hair and it makes relax into everything even more.

“It was like dating Liam too,” Eleanor mumbles sleepily, yawning loudly.

Louis doesn’t scramble up the bed like he wants, to demand what she means by that, because he doesn’t think he has the energy. They’ve gone past the raucous laughing and trying to speak over each other and only getting louder and louder and settled into sleepy. So he only turns his head to stare up at her face incredulously.

“Don’t poke my boobs,” Eleanor says in warning and Louis puts his finger away. “I meant you guys were always together. But it was alright, he’s such a sweetheart.”

Louis makes a muffled sound against her stomach and Eleanor tugs on his ear until he stops because he knows she’s ticklish. They both are. Tickle wars were a thing that happened in the great summer of Louis and Eleanor.

“Have you seen him recently? I saw him at the shops and I was cursing my eighteen year old self for not initiating a threesome,” Eleanor says and starts to laugh again.

“Oh my god, El,” Louis says and now it’s flashing through his head, what that might have been like. He knows the soft skin at the inside of Eleanor’s thighs and the gorgeous arch of her back and the little sounds she makes when she’s close and how her fingertips grasp at the nape of his neck but now Liam’s there as well and his broad hands are on Louis’ waist and on Eleanor’s skin –

“Ew, stop, stop it,” Eleanor says and swats at Louis’ head.

“You started it,” Louis says, somehow half-hard in his trousers already.

“What happened with you two? Y’know how everyone in school was always harping on about ‘forevers’ and ‘soulmates’ – I thought you’d outlast all of us, the two of you,” Eleanor says lightly and it’s too light, knowing and Louis really did miss her so much. He’s going to make it a point to hang out with her more often. He doesn’t like where this is heading though.

“I don’t know,” Louis says and finally moves, shuffling up the bed so he can rest his head on her shoulder.

Eleanor yawns again and pokes Louis in the stomach.

“Alright, I – he, he said he loved me the night before I left for uni,” Louis finally splutters out. He hasn’t really said the words out loud before, maybe once to Harry when he was even more drunk and sad and homesick.

“And?” Eleanor prompts gently, getting an arm around him.

“What was I supposed to say? I don’t know. I fucked up. I hadn’t seen him in so long and now, now, I think – I don’t know,” Louis says miserably and Eleanor just tucks her cheek against his head.

“Oh Louis,” she says quietly and Louis just wants to fall asleep now.

~

Louis wakes up just as it’s starting to get dark. He gropes around for his phone and thinks he might still be just a tiny bit drunk. Eleanor’s out cold, mumbling incoherently and almost hitting Louis in the face when he rolls away. He manages to wrap her up like a burrito in as many blankets as he can find and throws open the window before leaving.

He looks around blearily, body feeling slow and uncooperative, before they focus on the little pink post-it notes she keeps on her desk. He scribbles out a quick ‘thanks for the beer love, don’t be a stranger xx – Louis’ and carefully sticks it to her forehead. He pauses to grin down at her for a moment before tip-toeing his way out. He’s aware that he’s not her boyfriend anymore, it’s not like they were even doing anything naughty upstairs, but he still feels like Mr Calder’s going to rip his throat out if he catches him sneaking out.

He knocks into the absurd hat stand on his way out, heavy on his feet, but manages to escape without alerting anyone else. He sets off down the street back to his own house, his hands shoved deep in his pocket. Louis pulls out his phone and feels a tinge of guilt when he sees he’s ignored too many of Harry’s texts. He doesn’t have to click them open to know it’s probably about him freaking out over Leigh-Anne. Louis snorts to himself and doesn’t bother texting back, presses the green button and calls him instead.

“Calm down, she’s not going to bite,” Louis says immediately when the line clicks. He hears Harry breathe in shakily but goes on to say, “Or she might do, feisty girl, Leigh-Anne.”

“I’m in the middle of something, Lou,” Harry says, his voice strained. Louis can hear Leigh-Anne, loud as day, in the background.

“Oh,” Louis says and laughs. He winces straight-away; it sounds hollow to his own ears and Harry’s definitely going to notice. “Good on ya, mate.”

“Is something wrong? Wait, I’ll – give me a sec,” Harry says and hangs up on him.

He actually does call back a minute later because he’s Harry Styles and of course he’d call Louis back in the middle of something with the girl of his dreams. He sounds out of breathe but concerned and Louis really loves Harry too.

“Isn’t she going to be mad?” Louis asks, scuffing his toe against the concrete.

“I’ll make it up to her,” Harry says and he sounds insanely pleased with how he’s summer’s going. “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t have sex in my room,” Louis says to distract him, mostly himself too. He picks at his jeans as he walks along the curb, dragging his feet to enjoy the way the wind feels on his heated skin.

“Um,” Harry says and the too late is clear to the both of them. “Moving on, are you okay?”

“No. I think I’m going to come back,” Louis says with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s not fair to the girls and mum – I’m such a fucking shit.”

“Louis,” Harry says and he sounds helpless, like he wants to hug Louis but doesn’t know how to do so over the phone. Louis knows Harry’s about to start telling him how much he’s not and he’s going to be sincere and genuine and lovely Louis doesn’t think he can handle that right now.

“I’m in love with him,” Louis finally says and he’s fucking miserable. He doesn’t think this is how being in love is supposed to feel. “And it’s not fair and stupid and he’s happy and I’m - I don’t want to hurt him more than I’ve already done.”

“Who? Are you drunk?” Harry asks, concerned. Louis hears Leigh-Anne ask if everything’s okay in the background and feels a tad touched.

“Liam. No. A little bit. Yes,” Louis says.

“Oh, Lou,” Harry says quietly, just like Eleanor did and Louis wants to shout and ask what that’s supposed to mean, why do they sound so fucking sad? It’s quiet for a little while and Louis’ getting closer and closer to his house.

He can sense that Harry’s about to say something else and quickly cuts in. “I’ve got to run now but have fun and tell Leigh-Anne I said hi.”

“Alright,” Harry says after a beat. “You can come back anytime; it’s just us here at the moment. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Louis says and hangs up.

When he glances back up, he sees Liam standing in front of his house like he’s just got back from going out with his friends. Louis waves half-heartedly. He just wants to curl up in bed and drink his tea and spend a bit more time with his siblings before he has to go off again.

“Are you alright?” Liam calls out from across the street. The sky’s turning blue-dark and Louis didn’t think Liam could even see his face from there.

“I’m fine, love,” Louis says and he doesn’t mean to sound so drained. He walks into his house and doesn’t look back.

~

Louis knows he should say goodbye this time.

~

He’s not sure exactly when he’s planning to go back up to Harry and his flat but he thinks sooner might be better than later. He just needs some time to get over it, some time away, it’ll be fine - he’s going to make everything okay again.

Because he’s already come to a conclusion: it’s not fair to tell Liam, it makes no sense and it’s going to make things unnecessarily harder. It’ll go away, it has to, he won’t see him again for a while and then maybe when he comes home for Christmas he’ll be completely fixed and they can still be some kind of friends. It’s the best option Louis has right now and he tries to ignore the bone-deep feeling, the one that’s telling him it doesn’t work like that.

~

Louis can’t sleep knowing that he’s going to wake up in the morning, pack up his shit, and leave again. He kicks at his sheets until they fall to the ground and his legs flop lifelessly to the bed. He sighs out loud, feels hot and prickly in the summer night even with the windows wide open. After another half an hour of trying desperately to fall asleep, he scrambles out of bed and out of the house. He convinces himself a walk would help, calm him down and tire him out.

He makes it five steps out of the front door before his eyes are drawn to Liam’s window across the street. It’s pitch black outside but Louis knows the way off by heart. He stands in Liam’s yard and glances up at the opened window for another moment. It doesn’t mean anything – it’s hot, Liam’s probably sleeping with the open window while waiting for the heat to break.

Louis thinks fuck it and starts to climb the tree. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say once he gets up there or if he’s going to say anything at all or if this is just a really bad creepy idea and he doesn’t have the right to do this anymore. He stops thinking after a moment because it’s bloody hard to get a grip on the branches and keep his slipper-ridden feet from slipping. This was a lot easier two years ago or maybe he’s just out of practise, he hasn’t been climbing a lot of trees lightly.

“Jesus fuck,” Louis mutters to himself, scratching his wrist against the bark and hissing. He finally manages to get himself high enough, straddling a thick branch awkwardly with one foot lodging him in place.

He can see into the room from here, it’s dark and there’s no movement. Liam’s not awake, he’s not going to stick his head out the window and help Louis into his room like he’s done all those times before. Louis’ messed up his chance to say goodbye already and he’s going to have to live with it.

He’s about to climb his way down the tree and go the fuck to sleep because Louis’ realises he’s being a complete idiot when Liam’s head pops up in his window. The movement is too sudden and Liam’s a dark blur that startles the shit out of Louis. He has time to let out a strangled yelp, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the tree before he’s going own. He flails hopelessly, trying to get a good grip on anything to save himself, but it’s all slipping away too quickly and Louis knows it’s a lost cause.

“Ow, everything’s broken,” Louis says very quietly to himself, his eyes squeezed shut. He’s landed on his back on the grass.

He’s not going to move in case he’s got head trauma or his spinal cord is damaged or something. Except he has a feeling falling out of a tree in the middle of the night in someone else’s yard warrants some movement. Louis groans because Liam saw him and now he’s going to have to roll his way back to his house to escape. All he manages to do is to bend his knees, get his feet flat on the ground. He’ll move in a second.

“Louis, what are you doing?” Liam’s voice comes from somewhere above him.

Louis winces but keeps his eyes closed, maybe if he pretends this isn’t happening Liam will disappear in a puff of smoke. He doesn’t want to be shouted at when he’s embarrassed and in pain and also ridiculously embarrassed. He just fell out of a fucking tree; he deserves a modicum of leniency.

“I fell out of a tree,” Louis says, strained, and opens his eyes.

Liam’s now crouching down by his side, his hands hovering around in uncertainty as if he’s afraid Louis’ really hurt himself. Louis tests his shoulders out, rolling them against the grass a bit and prods gently at his ribs with his fingertips. Nothing seems to be actually broken, possibly some bruising and aches. He’s winded above all else but there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage.

“Go away please. I’m sorry, I know this is your yard but you need to leave,” Louis says and flaps his hand at Liam, his other arm thrown over his burning face. He’s got a headache, there’s a dull ache where his head connected with the ground now that he thinks about it. He wants to fall asleep right here and forget this ever happened. Except falling asleep in Liam’s yard probably won’t be productive to forgetting what is currently happening right now.

“What if you have a concussion? You can’t fall asleep,” Liam says, his hands still doing that weird panicky dance. He doesn’t ask what Louis’ doing falling out of trees outside of his bedroom and Louis feels marginally better about that. “I’ll get mum.”

“Noooo,” Louis says in panic and grabs Liam’s arm to keep him from leaving.

He’s too rough in his haste and Liam stumbles a bit, falling back to his knees next to Louis. He’s not going to have Liam wake up the whole house to provide him with medical assistance, this is embarrassing enough as it is and Louis’ peed himself in front of Liam. He’s cried with massive uncontrollable hiccups and did a drunken strip tease and got stung in the arse by a bee in front of Liam. This still takes the cake.

“You’re the son of a nurse, that’s just as good. And I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion,” Louis says, feeling around the back of his head gingerly. There’s a lump there but it’s no cause for concern, he’s bashed his head into a lot of things in his prime. People pretty much stopped asking if Louis had been dropped on his head as a baby, just how many times.

“What if you have internal bleeding or something?” Liam asks in concern. Louis’ afraid Liam’s going to shake his hand off him and draw away, but he doesn’t.

“Just stay here with me,” Louis says honestly, keeping his grip on Liam’s wrist.

Louis can’t breathe for a moment, terrified Liam’s going to say no and it feels like forever before Liam says alright, quiet as a whisper. He settles down beside him, lying on his back in the grass shoulder to shoulder. They’re both in their pyjamas lying in Liam’s yard in the middle of the night and after everything this feels the more like them than they have in a while.

“You didn’t even say goodbye. Is that why you came this time?” Liam asks, his voice level and neutral. He betrays nothing, his eyes to the stars above.

Louis doesn’t reply to that. He doesn’t ask how Liam knew he was leaving. He doesn’t think goodbye means forgetting because it happened either way. The guilt twists in his gut like a hot knife, this time.

“I missed you,” Louis says, his eyes shut again. He doesn’t let go of Liam’s wrist.

“I missed you too,” Liam replies after a long beat.

“And I’m so sorry,” Louis says.

“I am too.”

~

And Louis starts talking. He opens his mouth and he can’t seem to stop. He keeps talking even if there seems to be a physical pain in his chest that has nothing to do with the fall, like his heart’s been knocked around in his rib cage all on its own and he holds onto Liam as if it’s the only thing that’ll keep him going, keep him tethered to the earth. He talks through the raw ache at the back of his throat, his voice starting to hoarse out and wear and he hopes to god it’s all going to be enough.

“I started to think – I thought no-one could love me, never like how I loved them or – or enough. And you said you wanted to try. I was so scared; I was as scared as you. I didn’t want you to try and fail,” Louis says and at this point his throat feels torn up.

Louis waits for Liam to say something, doesn’t know if it’ll make this better or worse.

“I’ve never had to try at all,” Liam says and finally breaks Louis’ grip on his wrist, like he thought he would right from the start. He pulls away, as easy as that.

Louis’ eyes open once more and he feels - he feels fucking devastated, like he’s been sucker punched in the stomach and the air’s been sucked out of his lungs and there’s shrapnel in his heart. And he feels so terribly sorry, if this is a tenth of what Liam had to feel two years ago.

But Liam just leans over him, his elbow by Louis’ head, closer than before, and looks down at him in a way that wordlessly makes Louis believe he’s not leaving him at all. He reaches down with his other hand, his thumb big and gentle on his cheekbones. Louis swallows hard, tries to stifle down the traces of hope igniting through his touch, and feels like he’s going to start crying or something just as ridiculous. Because Liam won’t stop looking at him, like he’s precious and deserves to be loved and he still wants to be the one to do it.

“I love you, I’ll always love you,” Liam says, and he sounds so sad. Maybe he thinks Louis won’t believe him. Or maybe it’s because that’s the honest truth – Louis might understand.

“You don’t have to,” Louis says, reaches up to curl his hand around the nape of Liam’s neck and stroke at the soft skin. “People change, people leave. Just now, yeah? You’ll love me now?” Louis asks.

Liam answers with his lips against Louis’. Yes, and Louis lets out a broken sound against Liam’s soft, warm mouth, yes, and kisses him slow like this could be the last time, his last chance. Louis thinks Liam’s shaking and then realises it’s his own hands. Liam kisses him all over his face, with an astounding absence of urgency, the tip of his nose, the side of his mouth, the line of his jaw, the corner of his eye, yes. Like a child trying to comfort a friend.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” Liam whispers against his ear and pulls away.

Louis stays laid out against the grass for another moment, stunned and winded more than he had been after the fall. He doesn’t want to move, it might break. Liam offers him his hand and Louis can’t remember a time he hadn’t taken it.

He has no trouble hauling Louis up after him and Louis doesn’t think, he just goes with the momentum and tugs at Liam’s hand until he’s close enough for him to throw his arms around his neck. He has to stand on his tippy-toes but he holds him tight against him, hugs him like he’s wanted to whenever he’s missed him all those times before, his nose pressed into the soft hair by his temple. Liam sinks into it as if it’s so easy to be held in Louis’ arms, his own coming up around Louis’ waist, hugging him back.

“I love you I love you I love you,” Louis whispers fiercely, steadied by Liam’s broad frame against his.

Louis stays there for a little while, feeling the pain thrumming from his heart through his veins start to ebb away. Liam runs a broad palm down the length of his spine, warmth lingering at the small of his back, and ducks his head into the joint where Louis’ shoulder meets neck and sighs.

Louis pulls away, has to get up on his tippy-toes again so he can look Liam in right in the eye, cup his jaw in both his palms and kiss him again. He kisses his chin and all along his jaw and blows a raspberry when he gets to his ear to hear Liam laugh and shake helplessly against him. Liam tugs at Louis’ hand, holds on tight and starts to pull him back into the house.

They don’t bother with the lights when they get up to his room. He settles Louis into his bed and he stretches out. He’s completely surrounded by the smell of Liam on his sheets and pillows. He feels at home.

Liam tucks Louis in after that, smiles at him again, his eyes soft and lovely. Louis lifts the corner of the duvet and Liam doesn’t hesitate to climb in next to him, elbows and knees knocking into Louis’ side before he gets settled, swallows Louis up altogether in his arms. He presses a kiss to Louis’ eyelids and runs his fingertips over the back of his neck and up into his hairline, all gentle wonder.

“Go to sleep, Lou,” he says, his arms around Louis’.

“I love you,” Louis says again, wants to say the words over and over again.

“I love you too,” Liam says.

~

Louis dozes for a while, it’s suddenly all too easy to let go when his heart’s so happy. He wakes up briefly in the middle of the night to shut the window because the cold draft is seeping through Liam’s body heat. He settles back in immediately, jolts into Liam’s side by accident and wraps the blankets around them securely.

He takes a moment to stare at Liam, the smooth planes of his face and the peace of sleep, his mouth soft and pretty. He slides his palm up from where it’s resting on Liam’s chest, right over his heart, and up to his pulse. He feels his heartbeat solid and true and keeps going, lets his hands touch, wants to pour everything out through it. He’s running his thumb gently over his eyebrows, his lip quirked to the side in the tiniest of smiles at the delight when it twitches.

Louis startles when Liam grips his wrist, not hard enough to hurt but firm. His brows are furrowed and he struggles to shake off sleep, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks awake.

“You’re not leaving me again, are you?” he asks, he sounds as if he’s still dreaming.

“No, not forever,” Louis says and pets the side of his face, strokes his thumb down his temple and leans closer. “I’ll always come back,” he says and presses a sweet kiss to Liam’s softened mouth.

Liam doesn’t let go of his wrist this time and Louis lets him, rests his curled up fist against his chest and tucks himself against Liam’s side. He’s laying half on top of him, his leg between Liam’s, his head cushioned on his shoulder and Liam just tightens his other arm around Louis’ waist.

It’s terrifying to know he’ll be in love with Liam for the rest of his life and it’ll be worth it all.