Archive of Our Own

When Zayn is nine, all he can ever think is that the world is so big. He’s fascinated by it, everything out there, all the things to see and to do and to learn, to read and discover, to draw, to watch, to know. He doesn’t know how everyone doesn’t see it, how everyone else is just sitting there, but he’s learned he has to. He’s learned to sit there in school and listen and try to learn one thing at a time, and sometimes he has to sit on his hands, and sometimes he can’t stop looking out the window because there is so much out there, and sometimes he reads chapters and chapters ahead instead of doing his worksheets and sometimes when he gets home he’s so wound up from sitting all day that he just runs around his house, from room to room, because there is so much, so much everywhere. No one seems to agree though, and no matter how much he sits on his hands, all those undone worksheets and those times he breaks things when he’s running through the house and the times he blurts answers before the teacher is done asking questions, and how sometimes when he sits on his hands he’s sort of bouncing, lead to long talks with teachers and other grownups. Everyone is saying things about how he’s so smart but he can’t focus and that he’s hyper and that he has trouble paying attention and he needs to- and then everything is all, less sugar and less distractions, and he’s supposed to practice focusing and being still and on one thing at a time, and little pills that are supposed to help him.

The doctor suggests they just try it, just for maybe the rest of the school year, just to see if he does a few more worksheets and breaks a few less things. He hates them, though. It’s not the way they’re all bitter in his mouth, and it’s not the way that sometimes he feels like he’s blinking really heavy after, it’s that to get them in the afternoon he has to go to the school nurse. Not just go, but be called down, announced over the speakers so everyone can hear and point and whisper. And the thing is ,lately Zayn’s also been trying really hard to blend in a little, he’s not been blurting answers, not in months. He’s been trying to figure out clever comebacks for when other kids are awful about his name, his religion, his family, his skin, the kind that just make people back off, not start fights. He’s been observing all the ways the kids who get left alone dress and stand and the things they talk about. He’s been trying. And this ruins that.

He tries to walk down the hall as slowly as possible when he’s called, he’d almost rather the other kids thought he did something so bad he has to get yelled at every day than know he has to take stupid little pills so he can do stupid work. The third day of the fourth week, after his slow walk and after the whispers, he walks into the nurse’s office and for the first time she’s not there but it’s not empty. There’s another kid there, a boy, probably his age, and he’s sitting on the table and kicking his feet and looking uncomfortable. He looks up at Zayn, slowly and bites his lip a little.

“Um, she’s, she went to get something,” the boy says.

“Okay,” Zayn says.

“I’m, I’m Liam?” the boy offers, like maybe he’s not sure he should be talking to Zayn.

“Zayn,” Zayn says, nodding.

“I’m new,” Liam says. “kind of.”

“Kind of?” Zayn asks.

“I haven’t been here in a really long time, years,” Liam says.

“How come?” Zayn asks. Liam bites his lip again.

“I was sick,” Liam says.

“Oh,” Zayn says, and he wonders what kind of sick makes you not go to school for years. He’s pretty sure those are the kind you don’t always get better from, the kind that make you pale and tiny and maybe cough a lot. Liam doesn’t look like any of that.

“Are you, are you here because you’re sick too?” Liam asks. Zayn thinks about that, because he’s not, but he does take a pill every day, and he thinks maybe that’s sort of like being sick, then. Zayn shrugs.

“I have to see doctors, and take a pill, but I don’t miss school or feel bad or anything,” he says.

“What’s it for, then?” Liam asks.

“What?”

“The pill, I have a lot of them, and I used to take more, so that I feel good enough to be here, so that I don’t get sick again,” Liam says.

“They said I don’t pay attention enough, I guess,” Zayn says, shrugging again. Liam frowns.

“That’s not really the same at all,” he says.

“No,” Zayn agrees.

“I don’t know anyone,” Liam says, looking at his feet.

“What?” Zayn asks.

“I don’t know anyone, but I talked to you,” Liam says, still to his feet. Zayn nods and watches the way Liam’s feet are still bouncing. He’s about to say something else when the nurse finally comes in. She looks pleased they’re both there and after she passes them both small paper cups, she asks Zayn, in that way adults have that’s not asking at all but telling, if he’ll show Liam around since they’re in the same year. Zayn agrees, and then they’re both being shooed out the door.

“You don’t have to,” Liam says when they’re in the hall.

“It’s okay,” Zayn says. Liam is still bouncing and he’s looking around like he’s nervous and scared and Zayn gets that, all of that.

“I don’t know anyone,” Liam says again.

Zayn nods. He leans in and says, voice low, “do you ever think about how big the whole world is?” Liam’s eyes get wide, almost like he’s a cartoon.

“The world is giant,” Liam says back, sort of like it’s the most important thing he’s ever said in his whole life. Zayn smiles.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, making sure he’s smiling at Liam and not just in general. Liam smiles back.

“Last year, the whole world was like being sick, like machines and hospitals and these scary shots I had to get and doctors and big words,” Liam says, rushed, he’s swinging his arms a little now, and they’re walking really quickly. Zayn’s not sure where they’re walking, they’re past the class he’s supposed to be taking Liam to. He doesn’t care.

“But you’re better?” Zayn asks.

“They said I am,” Liam says.

“So the world isn’t a hospital,” Zayn says.

“It’s so big, everything is so big,” Liam says. Zayn grins at Liam again, and he wants to. He doesn’t know, do you just, can you just ask people to be your friend? Because he thinks he likes how Liam thinks and how his brain just seems to be going and going and how he seems to understand things.

“I know,” Zayn says. Liam smiles at him this time, big and bright.

“And I know you now, right?” Liam asks, and Zayn likes that too, because he’s been working on that. He’s been working on that too, on making his sentences and his words all line up, making sure that even if his head is jumping, his words are in line. He likes that Liam doesn’t do that all. He likes that he can follow Liam anyway.

“Kind of,” Zayn says.

“Are we like, can we be friends now?” Liam asks.

“Yeah,” Zayn says. “friends.”

“Friends,” Liam repeats, beaming again.

They’re twenty minutes late for class by the time they make it, but the teacher just looks at Liam like maybe Liam is the bravest person in the world and thanks them for coming and says he’s glad they made it. Zayn thinks that’s like a super power. He’s already glad Liam is his friend.

It’s quick, the way Liam becomes his very best friend. One day they are walking to classes together and giggling at the same time during lessons and the next day they’re at each other’s houses and sharing comics and watching movies and Zayn is looking up what it is your kidneys even do on his parents’ computer. They’re like, Zayn thinks, they’re the sort of best friends people have in books, the kind Zayn has never had, the kind where if this was a book they’d build a treehouse and make it their secret club. Neither of them has any good trees or knows how to actually build things, but he thinks maybe they would otherwise, even if this isn’t a book.

For a little while Liam goes to this after school thing on Tuesdays, some thing where kids from a bunch of local schools play football. Liam says his parents want him to make up for his years of not being around other kids. He also says he hates it, and by Zayn’s tenth birthday Liam has just taken to coming to his house most days, except the days Zayn goes to his. Liam’s parents seem pleased he has a friend and Zayn’s parents think Liam is a good influence and so no one says no when they spend whole weekends together, hiding under blankets and reading and talking and dreaming about all the things you could do out in the world.

They take walks a lot, to the little park between their houses, and they swing. And sometimes, when they find enough change lying around, they go to the closest shoppe and they buy candy. Chocolate, anything chocolate they can find, because Zayn’s not supposed to have it and Liam never used to be allowed. So they buy it and they share big pieces sitting under the slide after they run back to the park.

Sometimes Liam does cough a little, or miss a day of school, or just looks tired, but he’s always back and smiling and telling Zayn that he’s better. And he must be, he must be because Liam is also, aside from being Zayn’s best friend and a person who used to be sick and someone who loves all the same superheroes and comics as Zayn, he’s also good at sports and running and things. Zayn thinks about that sometimes too, when they’re running somewhere and Liam is slowing down so he doesn’t lose Zayn, when they’re in gym or on the playground and Liam is the best kid playing whatever it is, he thinks that’s sort of a superpower too.

Liam says running helps, makes him feel like he was never sick, and Zayn doesn’t run but sometimes he watches Liam, and he understands. He thinks it’s like drawing for him. He’s been doing that, drawing things, he’s not sure they’re very good but it’s a thing he can focus on and he likes it a lot and Liam always says they’re good and so he just. Keeps drawing. He draws and Liam runs and the doctors still keep telling Liam he’s better and then Zayn is better too.

He figures it out, he says the right things, the ones to get left alone, and he stands the right way, and he practices faces in the mirror (a secret only Liam knows) until he can make the right ones, and he draws and he does all his school work and still manages to read all the things he wants, and Liam stays his friend and teachers like him and other kids leave him alone and eventually they decide he doesn’t need the pills, less strong and then none at all, just Zayn.

“Do you think if we climbed to the top of a mountain, and we could see the whole world, we’d know exactly how big it is?” Liam asks one night when they’re curled in Liam’s bed after the movie they’d been watching is over, both of them in Superman pajamas and still buzzing from the ice cream they’d had, chocolate with chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles.

“I read a book like that once,” Zayn says. “about these two men who climbed a mountain,”

“Yeah?” Liam asks, because he always cares about the books Zayn has read, and if Zayn was going to make a list of all the reason Liam was his best friend, that would have to be on there, because no one else ever does, not really.

“Yeah, they almost died,” Zayn says.

“Oh,” Liam says, frowning.

“But they made it, and when they got to the top the one guy cried, and everything was so far away and small,” Zayn says.

“But it was dangerous?” Liam asks.

“Very, there were avalanches and stuff,” Zayn says.

“We could be astronauts!” Liam says. “You know! Like when they’re on the moon and the world is all tiny.”

“We’d have to wait a long time for that,” Zayn says.

“But it would be cool,” Liam says. Zayn grins.

“Yeah, it would,” he says.

“Space exploring astronauts,” Liam says.

“Okay,” Zayn says.

“Did you ever read any books about that? Space?” Liam asks.

“A couple,” Zayn says.

“Tell me?” Liam asks, and so Zayn does, and then they stay up until the sun is coming up talking about what they could do in space. The next week they buy those glowing stars you stick on your ceiling and split the pack so they each have some, to practice being up in all the stars.

Zayn doesn’t remember his first cigarette, and he thinks that’s weird and he should, but he doesn’t. What he remembers is the first time he wanted one, the first time he went out of his way to get some because he needed that. The first time he needed one because even drawing wasn’t helping, and he couldn’t read, couldn’t do anything but sit on a bench outside and smoke until he was coughing and felt awful but better all at once.

They’re twelve when it happens, they’re twelve and Liam doesn’t show up for school and when Zayn goes to his house after to see why Liam’s mom is at the door and her face is sad and worried and Zayn’s stomach swoops. It’s just strep throat, the same kind everyone gets, but Liam has to be in the hospital when he takes antibiotics, just in case, his mom says, just to make sure he’s okay with them.

Zayn paces the whole neighborhood and then he starts running until his legs hurt and then he goes home and tries to draw or read and he can’t, so he sneaks back out and he gets an older kid to buy him cigarettes and he sits on the bench and he smokes one after another telling himself that Liam is is going to be okay, that Liam probably has superpowers, after all. So he’ll be fine. Except that Zayn doesn’t so much believe real people have superpowers anymore, and he’s old enough to have read more on Liam’s kind of sick- he checked out books from the library without telling Liam once and he stayed up all night reading about things Liam has never really given him details of. He keeps thinking about this girl in their year, Beth, who was in that car accident last year and died, she died and she was their age, and Zayn knows this isn’t the same, and he doesn’t think Liam’s mom would lie that he’ll be okay when he won’t be, but he can’t stop thinking about Beth, all the same.

At home he stares at the stars on his ceiling and doesn’t sleep at all and then pulls out every book on his shelf, a stupid idea hitting him. He asks his mom in the morning if she’ll drive him to see Liam in the hospital, and she looks for a minute like she might say no, but then she agrees and after calling to make sure it’s okay with Liam’s parents they head over. Zayn paces there too, in the stupid hospital waiting room with a stupid book in his hand until someone says he can go in.

“Zayn!” Liam says, still all bright even with scary machines blinking all around him. Zayn wonders if it’s more or less scary for Liam since he’s done this before, since he knows what all those machines and numbers are.

“Hi,” Zayn says.

“You came,” Liam says, then he glances down at his scratchy looking covers.

“I wanted to,” Zayn says. “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, smiling a little, still at his covers. “Of course. You can sit.”

“They’ll let me?” Zayn asks.

“My mum does it,” Liam says, patting the bed a little. Zayn walks over, clutching the book in his hands so tight it hurts. He sits, lightly, machines beeping all around him.

“She said you’re only a little sick,” Zayn says. Liam nods.

“Just strep, but I have to take antibiotics and they wanted to make sure? So it’s more the medicine than the sick,” Liam says.

“I brought you this,” Zayn says, pushing the book towards Liam.

“You did?” Liam asks.

“I thought you’d have lots of time to read? And in this book the kid gets cancer, and he loses his hair, right? So his best friend shaves all his hair off too. And I know it’s not like, it’s a different thing and it’s stupid but. I, you don’t and it’s not the same but I would, and so I thought. And you have time,” Zayn says. Liam pulls Zayn into a giant hug, and Zayn falls into it, glad Liam gets it, because Liam always gets it. He always understands.

“It’s perfect,” Liam says, he’s beaming, and he’s looking at Zayn like maybe Zayn did the best thing ever. So maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Yeah?” Zayn asks.

“Tell it to me?” Liam asks.

“You should read it,” Zayn says, smiling a little.

“I will, but will you tell it to me first, while you’re here?” Liam asks, and he scoots over so they can both sit at the top of the bed, by the pillows. So Zayn sits and stays and tells Liam every detail of the book he can remember until Liam falls asleep. On the way home his mom tells him he’s a really good friend and she’s proud of him and Zayn thinks he’d like to smoke again. Later, Liam will tell him he did read the book, smiling when he hands it back, but he liked the version Zayn told him much better.

There is this party Liam isn’t at, the kind of party people are starting to have, with alcohol people stole from their parents and people playing the kinds of games that involving taking clothes off, and Zayn goes even though Liam can’t because he’s away that weekend. Liam’s been going away sometimes, he’s been running track and sometimes he goes away to win races, and he’s gone all day and Zayn gets that creeping restless feeling, the one that used to make him sit on his hands. So he puts a cigarette behind his ear and the rest of the pack in his pocket and he throws on his favourite jacket and he heads to the party.

He drinks something that makes his throat burn and watches other people kiss and wishes Liam was there until a girl he sort of knows, Rachel, he thinks, sits down, on his lap, laughing and smelling like the drinks. She’s flushed and her shirt isn’t really buttoned and she’s wearing a skirt and she’s on his lap and she’s giggling and Zayn swallows.

“Hi,” she says, right by his mouth.

“Hi,” Zayn says back. He’s not sure what he should do with his hands, not sure what he should do with his eyes, but then she says,

“You’re the fittest boy at this party, I think,” and blows in his ear, giggling again. And Zayn is warm from drinking and warm from the growing flush on his own skin and warm from her body heat and he swallows again. He thinks he can do this, he’s seen this.

“I really like your skirt,” Zayn says. Rachel giggles again.

“Good,” she says. “what else?”

“Your shirt, and your hair,” Zayn says, and she blushes a little and he feels a smirk tug on his lips. He can do this.

“Do you know over there four different boys tried to kiss me?” she says, gesturing towards the far side of the room.

“Did you let them?” Zayn asks.

“Nope,” Rachel says.

“Why’s that?”

“Wanted to come see you,” she says.

“I’m glad,” Zayn says, and she blushes again, and maybe he’s good at this.

“Did you want to kiss me instead, then?” she asks. And yes. Yes Zayn does. He’s done this before, not the on his lap in a little skirt part, but he’s kissed before, and he feels pretty good about it leaning in, pulling her down, bringing their lips together. She smiles against his mouth.

“Like that?” Zayn asks, pulling back a little.

“Yeah,” she says, and then they’re kissing more and it’s like. It still makes Zayn wish Liam was here, which is a little weird, but she’s all soft against him and he’s enjoying himself and thinking about how he’ll still get to tell Liam all about this. When she pulls back again she’s even more flushed and Zayn knows he is too.

“You wanna, like,” Zayn says, gesture with his hand and raising his eyebrows. She grins.

“I think that closet over there is empty,” Rachel says, jumping up and tugging his hand.

When he tells Liam the next day, lying on Liam’s bed, he talks about how she smelled and the warmth and the soft and the little sounds she’d made and he tells Liam about how he’d broken one the buttons on her shirt that was still buttoned when he fumbled with it and how she’d just giggled more.

“You like her?” Liam asks, smiling softly.

“Yeah?” Zayn says, shrugging. “I asked her to see a movie with me.”

“Can I meet her?” Liam asks.

“You could come to the movie too, if you want,” Zayn says. Liam beams. And that’s sort of how it goes for the three weeks and four days Rachel is his girlfriend, sometimes they’re alone and everything is soft and warm and skin, and when they’re not alone they’re with Liam and sometimes she pulls this face like that’s a little weird, but mostly it’s nice. She’s still got good hair and wears skirts a lot and giggles and Zayn likes having her around, mostly. Until she comes in one day and tells him they have to break up because she’s grounded and not allowed boyfriends right now, and Zayn is sort of disappointed. He tells Liam about that too, and Liam tells him there will be lots more girls with skirts and hair, and then they stare up at their stars and talk about space exploring and maybe whole planets filled with aliens who were girls with hair and skirts and never got grounded.

There is this. There is this other thing. When he’s fourteen there is this other thing he notices and tries not to, but there is this like, sometimes he doesn’t just like to look at girls with skirts and hair and sometimes he. He tries really hard not to, not to notice, not to like the way cologne smells or the way boys’ hands are, all big and fascinating and he tries not watch, but he gets this thing about other boys’ hands. And sometimes other things too, but hands. He gets a thing about hands, and it doesn’t take away the girls in skirts thing, but it’s there and Zayn doesn’t know how to make it go away.

He’s in the locker room one day, changing and pointedly not looking at anyone, when something catches his eye. The new kid is- Zayn watches him watching, it’s just a moment, just a tiny thing, but Zayn looks at him in time to see this new kid’s eyes trace down the chest of one of the older boys, watches him suck in his bottom lip, and then stop and shake his head like he doesn’t want to, like he can’t. And then he looks over like he can feel Zayn’s eyes, and he when he turns to see Zayn watching him he looks terrified. Zayn shakes his head and shrugs and tries to smile in a way that he hopes conveys that it’s okay, that it’s cool, that it’s, whatever.

The new kid walks over, still looking sort of sick with fear. “Hi,” he says.

Zayn nods. “Hey,” he says.

“I’m Louis,” he says.

“Zayn,” Zayn says, nodding again.

“I, um, didn’t,” Louis says.

“Didn’t what, mate?” Zayn asks, still trying to be casual, to let Louis know he’s not going to. Whatever. To anything. Louis studies him for a moment, then let’s out a small breath and smiles a little.

“Never mind, it was nothing,” Louis says.

“I didn’t see a thing,” Zayn says.

“Nothing to see,” Louis says.

“Absolutely,” Zayn says, and Louis grins again, and puts out his hand like he wants them to shake hands.

“Good,” Louis says, and he raises his eyebrow, just a little. So Zayn grins back and shakes Louis’ hand. Zayn knows what it’s like, no matter how much he tries not to, he understands, and he doesn’t know what it’s like for Louis, but he thinks it’s good, maybe, to know it’s not just him. That’s not alone.

The next day Louis shows up at their lunch table with a blonde boy in tow and the two of them sit down across from Liam and Zayn, both smiling.

“If we’re friends now, I’m going to need to sit with you,” Louis says to Zayn. “This is Niall by the way, he’s my best friend, he comes with me.”

“Hi!” Niall enthuses. Liam shoots Zayn a terribly puzzled glance.

“Um, are we friends now?” Zayn asks.

“Close friends,” Louis says, grinning.

“Louis picks friends for life when he picks them, you’re stuck now,” Niall says.

“Don’t make it sound like so much fun, Niall,” Louis says.

“You’re new,” Liam says, “But Niall, you’re in my maths, right?”

“I am!” Niall says.

“Niall and me grew up neighbours, but then I had to move across town, but now I moved back,” Louis says.

“Oh,” Liam says. Louis turns to Liam, studying him. He breaks out into a giant grin.

“I know you! Are you still fast?” Louis says. Liam blinks at him for a second, then he bites his lip and smiles.

“Louis,” Liam says. Zayn raises an eyebrow, because he’s pretty sure Louis hadn’t introduced himself and he can’t think how Liam and Louis would know each other.

“You could still be my secret weapon! I’m starting a team!” Louis says.

“The after school program,” Liam explains to Zayn’s raised eyebrow. “Louis was at that after school thing I used to do, remember? I always used to get picked last, but then Louis started becoming captain more and more and he’d always pick me first, even if no one else ever did.”

“You were the fastest kid there, idiots. Why wouldn’t I want you?” Louis asks. Liam smiles at him.

“I do still run,” Liam says.

“Aces,” Louis says. “so you’ll be on my team?”

“If you want,” Liam says, grinning a little. He shoots another look at Zayn when he does, like he’s still waiting for the how Zayn and Louis met part, but Zayn can’t, obviously.

“Since we’re all friends now?” Zayn asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We are,” Louis says. He shoots Zayn a look too, the same one from when they’d shaken hands, and Zayn nods back.

Louis and Niall sit with them every day from then on, and the four of them become a group, a thing, and it’s more okay than Zayn would have thought. Sometimes he and Liam still hide away, just them, looking at their stars and whispering and Zayn describing books and sharing chocolate, and no matter how much time they spend with Louis and Niall, that never changes.

Louis decides they should all go camping, so they go, because by a few months in Louis mostly makes the decisions and they mostly all go along and it works out really well, even if it results in Liam actually getting in trouble a few times. They get a ride out and they put up tents and they sit around a fire and drink and Niall has this guitar he bought at a rummage sale that he plays and Zayn smokes and it’s cold but they don’t move.

Niall tells a story about a girl he’d been seeing, and they all chime in, talking about girls and girls and girls again, about skin and skirts and legs and breasts and who has done what and Zayn spends the whole time not watching any of his friends’ hands. He doesn’t watch their hands or the way a strip of Louis’ stomach is revealed when he stretches, he doesn’t think about any of that at all. He doesn’t.

“What you need,” Louis says to Niall. “is a girl who knows how to cook for you. Then you should marry her.”

“Nah, we could always go out or get take away,” Niall says. “so it’s not important.”

“Home-cooked meals come from the heart,” Louis says.

“I’m not saying I’d turn it down, I’m just saying it’s not important,” Niall says. Louis shakes his head.

“What about you?” he asks, pointing a mostly drunk finger at Liam.

“What about me?” Liam asks, blushing. Zayn rolls his eyes into his drink. Still not looking at hands. Or stomachs. Or arms.

“What do you like, in a girl?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know,” Liam says. “like, big eyes, nice eyes? And quiet and smart and thinks a lot and dresses really nice and reads books and, nice eyes?” Liam says.

“That’s Zayn in a skirt,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, “that’s cheating.”

“I think that’s clever, actually,” Niall says, finishing his drink as he does.

“Are you going to disagree with everything I say tonight?” Louis asks.

“Maybe,” Niall says. Louis rolls his eyes.

“You could try making better points,” Zayn says, glancing over at a still blushing Liam as he does.

“Everything I say is incredibly valid,” Louis says.

“You’re sort of incredibly drunk, Lou,” Liam says.

“And you still described Zayn. As a girl. And I’m right about Niall. And. Whatever else I said tonight,” Louis says.

“Sure,” Zayn says. Louis throws a marshmallow at him.

Later, when they’ve put out the fire and headed into their tents, Zayn watches the way Liam breathes, watches his chest rise and fall, and thinks maybe Liam is onto something. Maybe that’s what he wants. Liam as a girl, the girl version of Liam, like, that could be a thing, he thinks.

“The tent’s spinning a little,” Liam says.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

“Know any books about camping?” Liam asks.

“Probably, but I can’t think of them right now,” Zayn says. Liam giggles, then he sits up suddenly.

“Hey!” he says.

“Are you okay?” Zayn asks.

“Why are we in the tent?” Liam asks.

“To sleep?”

“No! I mean, we should take our sleeping bags outside, just us,” Liam says.

“Why?” Zayn asks.

“Real stars!” Liam says. “We can sleep under them for real!”

“Oh,” Zayn says, and he wishes he’d thought of that, but he loves that Liam did, “Yes.”

“Let’s go,” Liam says, still all excited. It’s a little hard, with the tent spinning and all, but they make it out and spread their sleeping bags out and look up at the real stars, just for a night.

They’re drinking again, in Louis’ basement, drinking wine, and for some reason it makes Niall and Liam both very sleepy, and they both fall asleep while Louis and Zayn are both taking big gulps.

“I throw a good party,” Louis says, into Zayn’s ear. They’re sitting awfully close to each other on the sofa, Liam and Niall asleep across the room, and Zayn tries not to notice anything about it.

“It’s just us,” Zayn says.

“Still,” Louis says, and this time it’s sort of against Zayn’s neck, and Zayn swallows. Louis pauses. Shit. Louis pauses like he saw that, like he saw the swallow, like they’re back to that locker room but the other way around and this isn’t just some random guy, it’s Louis, and Zayn can’t like, he has to- but then Louis sort of leans back in and blows on Zayn’s neck a little, like he’s trying it out, and Zayn gulps again and he feels himself flush and Louis pulls back and studies him quizzically.

“Lou,” Zayn says, and Louis shakes his head and then grins and reaches out and puts a finger on Zayn’s lips, like he wants to see how Zayn will react, and it’s not fair, but Louis is so close and their thighs are pressed together and Louis’ are hard, and like, muscled and Zayn really sort of likes that, and Louis' finger against Zayn’s lip is part of his hands, great fucking hands, honestly, and Zayn just.

“Oh,” Louis says, a little wonderingly. He raises his eyebrows like he’s asking a question, and Zayn nods without even really knowing what he’s saying yes to, and then Louis shifts and climbs over Zayn so he’s sort of straddling him and then he leans down and.

Oh. Zayn leans up, eager and the kiss is fast and messy and good in a million ways Zayn doesn’t have words for at all. Louis is all over him, pulling on his shirt collar and licking at his mouth and Zayn just arches up into it, he can’t think, can’t think right now at all.

“Yeah?” Louis says, pulling back a little, asking it like he’s asking dozens of things at once.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out, hand clutched in Louis’ shirt.

“Okay,” Louis says, and Zayn isn’t sure if that’s actually to himself or to Zayn, but he answers anyway.

“Okay,” Zayn says. Louis grins and leans down to kiss him again. It’s hungry and it makes Zayn dizzy and he wants to do it forever, wants to just keep doing this. Luckily Louis seems to have the same plan.

They don’t stop, not that night and not at all. It’s a thing all of a sudden, a thing they do, like suddenly they are spending all this alone time together and it’s so much kissing and touching and licking and trying so many things and talking, too, and they’re pulling each other off into corners and skipping class and it’s dangerous and probably sort of fucked up but Zayn can’t stop. Doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what it means, though. Not any of it, not that Louis is a boy, not that, maybe weirder, that Louis knows all these things about him now that Liam doesn’t know, that Louis knows this whole part of him no one else does, and Zayn’s never had things Liam didn’t know, not big ones.

He thinks it should answer things, like there should be something final about how much he likes licking lines up Louis’ thighs, but there’s not. He’s still not sure because sometimes there are still girls in skirts and there are still times he watches girls put their hair up or kick their legs and it’s not different than it was and he thinks it should be. He thinks it should all make sense, that this should answer things but it doesn’t.

He doesn’t know how to say that, even to Louis, even when they’re not naked, even when they’re doing that other thing they’ve come to do where Zayn passes Louis a cigarette after when they’re on Louis’ porch and they talk, real things, secret things, and it’s weird to have someone who isn’t Liam know them, but it’s good, and this whole thing with Louis is good. At least Zayn thinks. Even if he has no idea what it means.

“Do you think we were always headed here?” Louis asks around a cigarette one night.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks.

“That first day I met you, I mean, you knew, sort of, right? And here we are,” Louis says. Zayn shrugs.

“I didn’t though, not really,” Zayn says.

“No?”

“I mean, I guess? But I was noticing you noticing, and that’s not any less...whatever, is it? So I didn’t think anything but maybe it wasn’t just me? But what the fuck does that even mean?” Zayn says. Louis smirks at him.

“Checking me out, then?” he asks.

“Shut up,” Zayn says.

“We have to be friends forever now, you know,” Louis says- and that’s just. The sort of thing Louis says, has always said, like Niall said that first day. Louis likes the idea of all of them being friends till they’re old.

“I thought that was already the plan,” Zayn says.

“Yes, but we have all this between us now,” Louis says.

“All of this,” Zayn says, gesturing with his hand. Louis grins.

“I knew we were a lot alike, you and me, right from the start, and not just- this, but, everything,” Louis says.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, and he has this moment, this sudden mental image of what it would be like, could be like, if they were some sort of actual thing, not this- friends with benefits, maybe? They’ve never called it anything at all, but if they were an actual couple and if they just sort of told everyone who had a problem with it fuck off and if they- he doesn’t know. The whole idea makes him jittery and restless, and makes him think about Liam, weirdly.

“This is a good bonus though,” Louis says, but almost, for a minute, like he’s asking, like he’s unsure. Zayn smiles at him.

“Excellent,” Zayn says. Louis smirks, moment of insecurity gone. He puts out his cigarette and gets up and then plants himself on Zayn’s lap and licks a line up his neck.

“We should go enjoy it more, then,” Louis says.

Zayn really can’t argue with that.

Eventually, he starts to feel terrible about not telling Liam. The weird turns into terrible, crawling guilt. It bubbles up in him every time he sees Liam. He wants to tell him. He’s terrified to tell him. It all gives him that restless feeling, like being a kid and too much chocolate. He starts to feel guilty with every kiss and every time he runs his hands all over Louis, and he decides he might need Liam to know. They’re in Liam’s room, looking up at the stars and talking about a race Liam has coming up and an art class Zayn’s signed up for and nothing important at all, until Zayn is filled with nerves and wanting and terror and he can’t take it anymore and he has to put his hands underneath him and he’s sure his pulse is racing.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks.

“Of course, just too much coffee, maybe,” Zayn says. Liam frowns.

“No, not just tonight, I mean like, lately,” Liam says.

“Lately?” Zayn asks.

“Something’s been up, you’ve been, I don’t know, but something’s been up,” Liam says.

“Nothing,” Zayn says, and hears how weak it sounds, knows Liam will know it’s a lie.

“I’m worried,” Liam says, biting his lip.

“You don’t need to,” Zayn says.

“I am,” Liam shrugs.

“Don’t, don’t worry,” Zayn says, a little desperate. He wants to change the subject. He wants this to stop. He wants Liam to guess so he doesn’t have to say it.

“You’ve just, I know you, I know when something is happening. You don’t have to tell me, I guess. But you can, that’s at all.”

“What if I can’t?” Zayn asks. Liam rolls over and studies him.

“What do you mean?” Liam asks. “It’s me.”

“I know,” Zayn says.

“So unless you’re like, telling me you hate me know and we’re never going to explore space, I don’t, I mean, I’m always here,” Liam says.

“Li,” Zayn says.

“You don’t have to,” Liam says.

“I don’t want you to worry, and it’s not, we always have space,” Zayn says.

“”Okay,” Liam says.

“I don’t know if you’d still want that, though,” Zayn says, small and rushed. Liam frowns deeply.

“Always,” Liam says. “Nothing you could say would ever. It’s me.”

“Li,” Zayn says, and he can’t do this, but he wants to. He maybe needs to.

“Always,” Liam repeats. “Head shaving and stars and the whole world, right? You and me.”

“There’s been a thing,” Zayn says and then he flinches because he started, and now he has to keep going.

“A thing,” Liam repeats, gently.

“A thing with,” Zayn stops and then he pulls a hand out from under him and pulls down his shirt collar to where there is a very definite, very obvious mark left by Louis. “I, a boy. Another boy.” Zayn says, gesturing at the mark and hoping with all he has that Liam gets it because he can’t bring himself to say it more, to use more words. Liam raises an eyebrow, and then his eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he says, “Oh, Zayn.”

“I didn’t, Li,” Zayn says, nonsensically, looking down. Liam takes a breath and then puts his arms out and pulls Zayn into a giant hug, just wrapping his arms around Zayn and holding him, right there in his bed, and it’s not what Zayn was expecting at all.

“Always,” Liam says again, and Zayn can almost feel him trying to think of things to say, of the right words.

“I don’t know what it means,” Zayn says into Liam’s shoulder.

“You don’t?” Liam asks, running hands all over Zayn’s back, comforting circles.

“I still like girls, but this thing with the boy is really good, I really like it, and boys have these hands and these legs sometimes and I don’t know what that means,” Zayn says.

“I think there are probably websites or groups at the community center to talk to people about that? I could go with you, if you wanted,” Liam says. Zayn pulls back a little and stares at him.

“You’d go with me? I don’t want to go, but I- you’d go with me?” Zayn says.

“Of course,” Liam says.

“Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Liam asks.

“But,” Zayn says.

“I don’t know what to say, but I want to try, here,” Liam says. Zayn doesn’t understand, not really, how it’s this easy, how Liam not only doesn’t care but Liam knows and they’re still snuggled in Liam’s bed, Liam still has his arms wrapped around him and they’re in a bed and Zayn had thought, been worried, that even if Liam had been wonderful he’d lose this part of of their friendship.

“Thanks,” Zayn says, and he means so much more, but he knows Liam knows that.

“Always,” Liam says. Zayn snuggles into him more, “Zayn?”

“Li?”

“The boy, I don’t need to know who or anything but-”

“I can’t,” Zayn says, cutting Liam off.

‘No, I get that, but he’s our age and you’re like, safe and stuff, yeah? Not dangerous?” Liam asks.

“Not dangerous,” Zayn says.

“I just worry,” Liam says, nodding.

“I know,” Zayn says. Liam runs a hand through Zayn’s hair softly, smiling a little.

“I’m glad you told me,” Liam says, “thank you.”

“I wanted you to know, it was so weird you didn’t, but I didn’t know how, I still don’t, really,” Zayn says.

“I know,” Liam says. They eventually fall asleep like that, wrapped in each other, Zayn clinging to Liam under their fake stars. It’s been five years, it’s been five years since Zayn asked Liam if he ever thought about how big the word was, and five years of them finding out it was even bigger than they thought. Zayn thinks maybe one day they’ll know what to do about that.

(Sometimes, like when he wakes up the next morning and Liam is still there holding him and the whole thing feels so much more okay than it had, Zayn still thinks maybe Liam has the superpowers they don’t believe in anymore.)

The longer it goes on, the more sure Zayn is that Liam highly suspects the boy is Louis. Liam watches them, he sees it, watches touches in the hall and times they’re both gone at once, watch each other, and he never says anything, not once, but Zayn can see the look in his eyes. As weeks drag into months, as the sneaking off becomes less frequent, as the touching gets a little lazier than it had been, as Zayn still has more questions than answers, as Liam grips Zayn’s hand as tight as he can and tells him they never have to talk about it unless Zayn wants to and then they can talk for hours, days, weeks, as they blow out birthday candles, as he memorizes all the lines on Louis skin till they’re burned behind his eyelids, there when he goes to sleep- it all just stays, for months, until it doesn’t.

Zayn’s in his room, sketching out a little comic, something for an art class he’s been taking, when Louis bursts in his door, looking sort of wrecked.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Louis says, throwing himself on Zayn’s bed. Zayn raises an eyebrow, shuts his door, and lays down next to Louis.

“What wasn’t?” He asks. Louis sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I wasn’t supposed to not be able to go back,” Louis says.

“Go back?” Zayn repeats.

“I went out with Natalie from that party last week tonight,” Louis says.

“Okay,” Zayn says, because that’s been a thing too. An easy thing, a too easy when all of this is hard thing, but neither Zayn or Louis has ever not actually dated other people. Girls. They both took girls to the formal in the spring. They ended up with their hands down each other’s pants in a bathroom stall and Zayn breathing into Louis’ neck, but they’d taken girls, all the same. It’s just. It’s how it’s been. An unspoken agreement, always.

“But I couldn’t,” Louis says.

“You couldn’t?” Zayn repeats. Louis rolls over and leans on his elbow and looks at Zayn.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I was supposed to be able to just go back, you know? I didn’t think I was, I mean, but then tonight, right? She was there and she’s got those great legs and her hair smells good and she was right there and we were alone and I didn’t want to anything. At all. And I’ve never, but like, fuck I couldn’t pretend to want to, Zayn,” Louis says. Oh.

“Oh,” Zayn says. He doesn’t know what to say to that, not really.

“I thought, at first that it was that maybe, you and me was great ‘cause you’re you and that’s better because we’re friends and I know you and you’re like, I don’t have to whatever with you, it’s just easier and better and I actually like you, and then, but. That’s not all, and I knew that, I know that,” Louis says. Zayn frowns.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Zayn says.

“I know,” Louis says, “But I was walking home and then I didn’t want to go home so I kept walking and thinking and I came here and this is the thing, I don’t think I want to pretend to want to anymore. Ever.”

“Oh,” Zayn says again. Oh. He doesn’t- this is some sort of huge conversation, he thinks. This is really important and he should find words and he should say the right things, but maybe it’s different because of the whole he and and Louis have been seeing a lot of each other naked thing? He doesn’t know, but he gets a flash of Liam just pulling him in close, so he tries that, because Liam is normally right, and he pulls Louis in close.

“Is that okay?” Louis asks, sort of whispers, against him.

“Of course,” Zayn says. Louis shakes his head and folds into Zayn.

“I mean like, for you? Like, people will suspect you, if I just, I don’t know, but I can’t anymore,” Louis says.

“I told Liam, me, not you, but I told Liam, and I think he already suspects us, actually?” Zayn says.

“Oh,” Louis says.

“I couldn’t not,” Zayn says.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “He was wonderful, I assume? Caring and earnest and shit?”

“He was,” Zayn says. Louis shakes his head again.

“And Niall won’t care,” Louis says.

“Course not,” Zayn says.

“I could start with just telling them, Liam and Niall, and I could just stop dating girls, and I could go from there, right?” Louis asks.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, and he still doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it and he feels like Louis is mostly talking himself though this, but. He pulls Louis in a little tighter.

“I just can’t anymore,” Louis says.

“That’s really brave, Lou,” Zayn says. Louis sniffs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says. Louis reaches down and laces their fingers together.

“What about you?” Louis asks.

“What about me?” Zayn asks, squeezing Louis’ hand.

“You know.”

“I don’t, though, is the thing. I still don’t know. What would I even say?” Zayn says.

“Oh,” Louis says. “but you really, it’s okay that I do?”

“It’s brave,” Zayn says again, because it’s true, because he thinks all of this might be the bravest thing he’s ever heard in his life.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” Louis says.

“It is,” Zayn says. Louis nods and then he shifts them so he’s sort of lying on Zayn’s chest and they’re looking at Zayn’s ceiling, fingers still laced.

“You and Liam and those stars,” Louis says, tracing them with his eyes, voice a little forced like he’s trying to turn the page on their conversation.

“We were gonna explore space,” Zayn says, shrugging.

“I’ve heard,” Louis says, smiling wryly. “Send me a postcard?”

“No,” Zayn says.

“No?” Louis asks.

“I guess maybe most of the time, but once in awhile, sometimes, you could come,” Zayn says. “wouldn’t need a postcard, then.”

“I think that might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Louis says, smirking, but looking at Zayn like he means it, like maybe that was a huge thing to say. Zayn guesses it kind of was. He thinks maybe he should have asked Liam first, about occasionally including Louis in their hypothetical space adventures, but he’s sure Liam won’t mind.

Louis comes out in increments, Liam and Niall, and then their expanded circle of friends, and then most of the school, and it’s all still the bravest thing Zayn has ever seen. Liam makes a small sound Zayn can’t figure out when Louis tells Liam and Niall, but he doesn’t say anything. He never asks, still, and Zayn is grateful. Niall, for his part, looks about as phased as if Louis had told them his class schedule for next term, but later, when more people know, Niall almost gets suspended for the punch he lands right in the eye of someone who was saying something about Louis that Niall refuses to repeat.

Louis seems a little lighter, occasional awful dicks and all, and Zayn envies that. He still can’t quite find it, can’t find words, and he still doesn’t know why. The sneaking off is still less and less, even if they have a million hushed conversations a week, they end more clothed than before. And one day when Zayn is in the hall and a girl whose name he doesn’t catch is leaning in and putting her hair behind her ears and smiling at him as they talk for a few minutes, Louis finds him after.

“You don’t have to look all guilty,” Louis says.

“I’m not,” Zayn tries.

“You are, and don’t. Seriously, you don’t have to, anything, just because I did,” Louis says.

“I still don’t-” Zayn starts, Louis shakes his head.

“I know,” Louis says. Then he grabs Zayn’s hand and laces their fingers together and breaks Zayn’s heart just a little when he says, “but I think we should maybe, you know.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, and he gets it. He does. He knows exactly what Louis means, but it’s. Louis is- well, Liam is his best friend, will always be his best friend, but there is this complicated thing in Zayn’s head because Louis is Louis, and it’s like, Zayn loves him a lot, honestly, and he doesn’t- maybe he just wants them to be friends forever, too. Maybe he wants Louis on their space adventures, once in awhile and it’s. He doesn’t know.

“It doesn’t change anything, just, if we didn’t, bonus? I’d kind of like to, there is this guy at the coffee shop and, that’s okay, right?” Louis says.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, and that’s just. That’s sort of that, and then it stops happening, after so many months, so many moments, so many times trying to be quiet, so many times wondering what it all meant, and Zayn’s okay, really.

He goes to Liam’s that night, though, and he throws himself on Liam’s bed and stares at their stars and he thinks he might never leave.

“Zayn?” Liam asks.

“Is it weird if I talk about it?” Zayn asks.

“You know it isn’t,” Liam says.

“We never have,” Zayn says. “Not really.”

“I didn’t want to push,” Liam says. “but I’m here.”

“Okay,” Zayn says, and Liam crawls in bed with him and grabs his hand.

“It’s not weird,” Liam repeats. Zayn stares at the stars and not at Liam and says,

“Louis likes some coffee shop guy.”

“Oh,” Liam says, and out of the corner of his eye Zayn can see him biting his lip. “are you okay?”

“I was flirting with this girl in the hall today, and I was into it, but that doesn’t, I don’t know why I don’t have answers about anything, Li,” Zayn says, still looking at the stars.

“That’s a thing, you know,” Liam says.

“What?” Zayn asks.

“I mean, that’s a thing, you can like Louis- boys, and also girls and skirts, it’s not just you or anything,” Liam says. Zayn sighs. He knows that, of course he knows that, but he’s still just, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know how to do that, he wouldn’t know how to.

“I know, but like, how do people do that? How do you, anything?” Zayn asks, “I just wanted one thing to make sense, I wanted to do something and be like, this is it. I never want, I mean, Louis knows, you know?”

“But that is a thing, a thing that could make sense, I think?” Liam says, gently.

“I don’t know,” Zayn says again.

“You don’t have to,” Liam says.

“I want to, I think,” Zayn says.

“Yeah, but we’re also really young, you know? I think it takes people a while,” Liam says. Zayn frowns.

“Have you been like, reading brochures or websites or something?” Zayn asks.

“Yes,” Liam says.

“Why?” Zayn asks, blinking. Liam shrugs.

“It’s important, I felt like I should know these things,” Liam says.

“Oh,” Zayn says, and he tucks himself in against Liam as he does, feeling sort of small. Small in a big world.

“Are you okay, with the Louis thing? Really?” Liam asks.

“Yeah,” Zayn says.

“Yeah?”

“Mostly,” Zayn says truthfully. Liam rubs his thumb in circles on the back of Zayn’s neck, small and comforting.

“Okay,” Liam says.

“Can we talk about something else?” Zayn asks.

“Of course,” Liam says, “read any books you want to tell me the plot of?”

The fall they’re sixteen, almost seventeen in Louis’ case, they all get roped into the school’s production of Into The Woods, and that, somehow, brings Harry Styles to their lunch table.

It’s October and Louis is in the middle of some story about how he really is going to start that team he’s been meaning to for years, when Harry walks up to their table. Harry- rumored-to-have-slept-with-half-the-girls-in-the-year-Styles, slides up to their table and says, to Liam,

“Hi! Are you coming tonight? Last night was really great.”

“Last night?” Louis says, very pointed edge in his voice.

“We had coffee,” Harry says. Zayn chokes on his drink a little.

“After callbacks,” Liam says, quickly, like he’s trying to diffuse something. “We had callbacks together, for the show.”

“I think we’re going to get it, they seemed to really like our voices together,” Harry says. He sits down then, apparently oblivious to the look Louis is giving him.

“Yeah, um, for the princes?” Liam says.

“Nice,” Niall says, grinning.

“I didn’t know you did theater,” Louis says, all ice.

“I just started!” Harry says, all bright and sunny. “My university counselor recommended it, and I’ve been singing for ages.”

“He’s good, I heard his first audition,” Niall says.

“Thanks!” Harry says.

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, looking at Zayn and Louis sort of desperately.

“We’ll all be spending a lot of time together then, I guess,” Louis says, frowning. Liam looks miserable.

“You were good, I saw too,” Zayn says, grudgingly. Louis glares at him, but Liam looks like he wants to hug him. Zayn shrugs. It’s not a lie, he’d seen Harry in first auditions, and through the girls giggling around him and praising him, he really had been good.

“You’re doing sets, right?” Harry says back.

“Because he refuses to audition and sing” Niall says, rolling his eyes.

“Our Zayn has a fantastic voice,” Louis says, like he’s challenging Harry.

“Whatever,” Zayn says,

“You should still try! I think they always need boys, right? I’m sure they’d let you sing. Nothing is set yet!” Harry says.

“You should,” Liam says, nudging his knee against Zayn’s. “I keep telling you.”

“Definitely,” Harry says. “I’m sure your sets will be great too, Liam said you’re an artist.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Zayn says.

“It’s not,” Liam says.

“Um,” Louis says. “So you just wanted to thank Liam for coffee last night?”

“If we’re all going to be in the show, I thought, Liam made his friends sound sort of great, and. Hi?” Harry says, looking a little thrown for the the first time.

“We’re the best,” Niall says, grinning.

“So you thought you’d just sit down?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Lou,” Liam says, a little pleading.

“Yes,” Harry says.

“Aren’t you friends with like, the whole year?” Louis asks.

“Not really,” Harry says. “I need new mates, honestly.”

“And we’re the lucky ones?” Louis asks.

“Yes,” Harry says again. Zayn watches their back and forth, fascinated in spite of himself.

“Why?” Louis says. “not that I’m sure Liam wasn’t a delightful coffee date, but. Why?”

“Honestly?” Harry asks.

“Honestly,” Louis says.

“You,” Harry says. “I mean, Liam and callbacks and coffee and the show, but. I always wanted to be your friend.”

“My friend?” Louis repeats, a little high pitched.

“Is there an initiation of some kind? Do I need to pass a test? I’m told I'm rather brilliant, and I’m rubbish at sports but I could try,” Harry says. Louis blinks at him.

“You should come to my house on Friday, we’re having a party. By which I mean sleeping on my mum’s basement floor and drinking. You should come,” Louis says after a minute.

“Really?” Zayn asks, before he can stop himself. Louis shoots him a look.

“Really?” Harry says, a beat after Zayn.

“Really,” Louis says. Zayn stares at him and wonders what exactly Louis is playing at, here.

On Friday, after several failed attempts to get Zayn to audition and an announcement the final cast would be posted on Monday, Harry does in fact join them in Louis’ basement.

“What is Louis doing?” Liam whispers when he and Zayn are in the kitchen, grabbing any snack food they can find. They’ve had this conversation at least six times, but they haven’t come up with anything.

“I still don’t know,” Zayn says. “I asked him, but he said he had it under control?”

“If he won’t even tell you, I wonder if he knows himself,” Liam says. Zayn shakes his head. He’s thought that too. The thing is, he’s not sure why Louis was so hostile in the first place, and he’s not sure what all this about now. Harry, for his part, is pretty okay, Zayn thinks. He wonders, though. About what Harry had meant about always wanting to be friends with Louis, about if his reputation isn’t all a lie.

In the basement, Louis jumps right to it, to what Zayn assumes after a minute must be the plan. They’re not even drunk when Louis announces they’re playing Truth or Dare and then demonstrates the gusto he expects people to tackle their dare with by kissing Zayn while staring at Harry. Oh. This is like an initiation then, in some weird way, Zayn thinks when Louis lets him go, something to see if Harry will scare off. Louis gives Zayn an almost apologetic smile and Zayn shrugs and grins back.

“Right, let’s do this,” Harry says. Louis raises an eyebrow. Then looks to Zayn again, like he’s asking him something, he raises an eyebrow like he wants Zayn to go with him here, and Zayn sighs but nods and waits for it. Because this he is pretty sure is going to,

“I dare you to kiss Zayn. And then take a shot,” Louis says. Harry smirks and crawls over to do just that, kissing Zayn like he’s done it before, like maybe he kisses boys in basements all the time. He’s eager and he’s got really nice hands, Zayn notices, and he’s more than okay with this, actually, reaching out a hand and putting it on the back of Harry’s neck and licking at his lips a little. Harry grins wickedly when he pulls back, and takes his shot staring at Louis as he does. Louis swallows.

“Good game,” Harry says, and Zayn decides maybe Harry himself is more than okay, really.

“You never made me kiss Zayn to prove I could hang out with us,” Niall says.

“Me either,” Liam says, frowning.

“You were already here,” Louis says, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’d recommend it, personally,” Harry says, grinning at Zayn.

“I think that’s an orgy,” Liam says.

“I’m sorry, did Liam, our innocent Liam, just say orgy?” Louis says.

“I heard it too,” Niall says.

“He’s growing up right in front of us!” Louis says. Liam flushes and takes a long drink, and it’s like something is broken in the room, a tension, a string, and maybe Harry really can be their fifth now, because the rest of the night is kind of easy and light like Zayn wouldn’t have thought it could be.

Later, Louis crawls over and whispers, “are you mad?”

“I should be,” Zayn says.

“But?”

“I’m not,” Zayn says. Louis grins and snuggles down next to Zayn on the floor.

“How was it?” Louis asks.

“He has good hands,” Zayn says.

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

“It was good,” Zayn says. Louis grins.

“I’ll remember that,” Louis says

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know yet,” Louis says.

“Warn me before you involve me in it again, yeah?” Zayn asks. Louis smirks.

“I won’t send anymore really attractive guys to kiss you, then. I know you hate that,” Louis says.

“Lou,” Zayn says.

“I know,” Louis says, “thanks.”

Zayn snuggles back then, but for a second, in the dark, he thinks he catches Liam’s eye- thinks he feels Liam, who he’d thought was sleeping, watching them. He shrugs it off, but he wonders.

***
Harry and Louis start this. Thing. Through the whole show, at every rehearsal and every party and every day at school and always, this thing where they are either glued to each other’s side or glaring at each other. They’re either fighting or holding hands and Zayn doesn’t understand. At all. It’s this like, one second they’re all at someone’s house and Harry and Louis are making out and all over each other and the next day at school they’re yelling at each other.

The weirdest thing about it is that it seems to make Louis really happy, even though he refuses to admit it, but when they’re fighting he seems to get a rush from it and when they’re having a good day he looks sort of blissful. And when Zayn asks Louis always just says it’s not a thing, that they’re just casual and it’s good like it is. But Zayn is pretty sure Louis didn’t want that, so he just. He doesn’t understand. Maybe it’s not his place to understand. He doesn’t know.

Because when they fight it’s this big, dynamic thing, starting small and spiraling until the other three are looking at each other wordlessly.

“You didn’t come over last night,” Harry says one Wednesday at lunch, casual but edged all at once.

“Busy,” Louis says, carefully.

“I texted you, called,” Harry says. Liam takes a giant swallow of his soda, watching.

“Must have missed it,” Louis says.

“You could have called me,” Harry says.

“I didn’t think you’d care, really,” Louis says.

“You knew I would,” Harry counters, and this is it. This thing they do, where Harry refuses to take any of Louis’ shit so Louis throws more at him than anyone else. Zayn doesn’t know if it’s more or less worrying that they seem to enjoy it.

“How would I know that, exactly? You were occupying yourself just fine without me earlier,” Louis says. Liam knocks his knees against Zayn’s under the table, and Zayn reaches over, without really thinking about it, and puts a hand on Liam’s knee.

“You can’t punish me for talking to other people,” Harry says, exasperated.

“Talk to whoever you want, Harry,” Louis says. Zayn thinks other people don’t do this in front of their friends, or maybe other people’s friends tell them not to. Maybe they should tell them not to, but between the three of them, they all always just stare.

“One day you’re going to push me away and I’m not going to come back,” Harry says, and he gets up and leaves and Louis stills, doesn’t look at the rest of them, and then seems to be counting in his head before getting up and following Harry.

An hour later Zayn finds them making out in the library, whispering things to each other that leave them both flushed and smiling. Later, when Louis comes over and sits on Zayn’s bed, Zayn says,

“What was that about, you and Harry?” And Louis says,

“Same as always.”

“Why?” Zayn asks.

“He’s easy to fight with,” Louis says.

“Right. Why?” Zayn asks.

“Same reason he’s easy to make out with, I think,” Louis says. Zayn sights and sits down next to Louis who grins and throws a leg up over Zayn’s.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Lou,” Zayn says. Louis frowns a little and runs a hand through his hair, leg still over Zayn’s.

“Because he’s- like, fucking terrifying?” Louis says.

“Terrifying?”

“I can handle it, but yes,” Louis says.

“I’m still not sure I follow,” Zayn says.

“I only understand about half the time myself,” Louis says.

“You’re okay, though?”

“Delightful, honest,” Louis says.

“Right,” Zayn says.

“Can I stay here?” Louis asks, “under your stars. Sorry, you and Liam’s stars?”

“Sure,” Zayn says. And after a few shared cigarettes, when they’re all crawled under his covers, Zayn thinks that sometimes, more times than not, it’s sort of like all five of them are dating. Which is probably really weird, he thinks.

Zayn gets a girlfriend called Molly for three months. It starts at the cast party, she’s got dark hair and bright eyes and she tells him he just has to sing and before he knows it he’s on stage singing, and the room is cheering and then she’s whispering in his ear how talented he is, how he should have been the star, how good he looked up there. She’s great, Molly is, she’s funny and she’s smart and she’s an artist, too, and she’s taking this class she says she can get Zayn into, and she has really soft skin and she listens to everything he says like it matters and it’s good, really.

She’s fun and she makes him think and he’s in her room when he sort of- they’re in her room and he’s on top of her and everything is hot and heavy and so fucking good, really- and then there is a barely there knock and suddenly there is an older brother, in a towel, there smirking at them and telling her their dad had just phoned and Zayn’s got his hand on her thigh and his eyes on her brother and it’s this moment. Because the brother isn’t all that attractive, and it’s not like Zayn wouldn’t much rather he go away so he and Molly could continue, but still, the moment makes him. Settle. Know.

He goes to Liam’s that night, it’s late but he knows Liam won’t mind at all, and he cuddles under Liam’s blankets and Liam blinks at him then smiles and just says,

“Hi.”

“You were right,” Zayn says.

“What was i right about?” Liam asks, grinning and curling into Zayn.

“Me,” Zayn says. Liam looks thoughtful for a moment, then he nods like he remembers.

“Yeah?” Liam asks.

“It must be a thing, because. I, that’s me,” Zayn says.

“Okay. Good,” Liam says.

“Good?” Zayn echoes.

“You know, that you know, I guess,” Liam says. Zayn grins.

“Yeah,” Zayn says.

“I still have a brochure or two,” Liam says.

“I’m good,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes, just a little.

“How’s Molly?”

“She’s also good,” Zayn says.

“I’m glad,” Liam says. “seriously, though. If you ever want, I really do have the brochures. Websites bookmarked.”

“How about,” Zayn says, grinning, “We switch things around and you just tell me about something I’m not going to read?”

“I read that one you brought me in the hospital!” Liam defends, pouting a little.

“I know,” Zayn grins. “I still think it’s only fair.”

“I suppose,” Liam says, and then he launches into a long, rambling, sputtering-at-points explanation of bisexuality and Zayn just sort of watches him fondly. Still superpowers, probably.

Eventually Molly’s swim seasons starts and she gets a job and Zayn starts this internship that’s supposed to help him in uni and between that and the amount of time Zayn dedicates a week to Liam, Louis, Niall and Harry, it just sort of fades, they stop having time for each other, and one day she says, “we’re not really properly dating anymore, are we?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in two weeks,” Zayn says, agreeing.

“Yeah,” she says, and then they just stop trying, and it’s okay, really. They still take a class together, and she tells him is stuff is brilliant, and she still smells good, and he still appreciates her work too, and so Zayn thinks it all went pretty well.

(Better, maybe, or possibly just duller, than Harry and Louis, whose cycle has progressed to only fighting monthly, but that fight being so massive that Harry swears he’s done and can’t do this anymore and Louis says for Harry to just leave him the fuck alone- and then by a week later they’re back to a corner of the library they seem to have claimed as theirs, happy and affectionate.)

In the spring, when they’re seventeen, life starts to feel like someone is throwing the future at them, like the great big world is about to fall on them if they don’t choose things. Zayn’s trying to work through all that and not get too restless, not stare at windows or sit on his hands because it’s too much, and mostly with smoking and laying in bed with Liam and talking about how they don’t need it because they’re going to explore space- it’s under control. And then.

And then they’re sitting in the stands watching Liam run to qualify for some national team thing and it’s this really big deal and Harry and Louis are having a good day and Niall is playing songs on his guitar and changing all the names to Liam so they can cheer him on and Zayn is telling the story about how when they were kids he thought it was so amazing that Liam could run like that when he’d been so sick, and Louis is talking about how he’d always known, picking him first and all and Harry is giggling and clutching Louis’ hand- and it hits Zayn. Hard and heavy, maybe not the world but the stars, they hit him and he’s watching Liam run and he feels like he can’t breathe and he turns to Harry and Louis and Niall, wide eyed.

“Zayn?” Louis says.

“You okay?” Niall asks.

“Oh, god,” Zayn says, dizzy.

“Zayn?” Louis says again.

“Do you want me to like, go get a drink? I can not be here right now if you want?” Harry says, suddenly looking very aware of his newness. Zayn shakes his head rapidly.

“No. I. Fuck me, I’m that guy,” Zayn says.

“We’ve talked about you being all vague like that, darling,” Louis says. Zayn glares at him.

“Liam,” he says.

“Still vague,” Niall puts in.

“I’m that pathetic guy in love with his straight best friend, fuck,” Zayn says, burying his head in his hands and not looking at any of them. He feels like the saddest and stupidest person in the world, but oh. Now that it’s hit him he feels like the story of his whole life has maybe been Liam, has been being in love with Liam, like everything he’s done and said has been super, bold font obvious, that he’s got this massive crush on Liam. Shit. Fuck. For a minute no one says anything and so Zayn looks back up to see them all exchanging looks and Louis mouthing something to Harry.

“What?” Zayn says.

“Nothing,” Harry says.

“No, what?” Zayn says, and they should be watching Liam, but he can’t, not right now.

“It’s just that, that’s probably the least surprising thing you possibly could have said,” Louis says. Oh. Well, at least he has the decency to look sympathetic, Zayn guesses.

“Oh,” Zayn says.

“We could pretend to be surprised or shocked if it helps?” Niall offers.

“It really wouldn’t,” Zayn says.

“Sorry,” Niall says. Zayn shakes his head.

“I might be the stupid person alive, at the moment,” Zayn says. He’s itchy, he needs to smoke, to paint, to be here and support Liam so he can’t go anywhere, but he feels like such an unbelievable idiot and their faces aren’t helping.

“What are you going to do?” Harry asks.

“Not a thing,” Zayn says.

“Nothing?” Harry repeats.

“Because there are so many options of things I could do?” Zayn says. Harry frowns.

“Well,” he starts.

“No,” Zayn says, he sits up and he pulls himself straight and looks at the track, at Liam. “let’s pretend we never had this conversation, yeah?”

“Zayn,” Louis says.

“I’m just going to cheer him on now, because nothing at all has changed,” Zayn says. They all frown at him, looking worried but he ignores them. Whatever. He’s fine and he can do this. It’s not going to change anything. So he’s got some sort of massive thing for Liam. So he’s probably been in love with him since they were fucking twelve or something, whatever. It doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, so Zayn’s just. Going to ignore it. Right.

Harry looks like he wants to say something else, but Louis grabs his hand and shakes his hand. Zayn is grateful. Liam qualifies, of course. He makes some sort of record-breaking time and there are all these scouts and coaches and important people around him and Liam is an actual fucking superhero, sometimes.

“I really need to start that team,” Louis says, shaking his head.

“Our Liam is the fastest kid in the world,” Niall says.

“Exactly,” Louis says. Zayn gets the distinct impression they’re forcing conversation to avoid Zayn’s revelation. Good.

When Liam finds them in the stands he throws his arms around Zayn first, and then pulls them all into a giant hug, and Zayn is fine and it’s not any different than hugging Liam ever is. Not at all. His heart is not racing. He’s fine. Or, he’s fine until Liam breathlessly announces that since he qualified for the team he’ll be gone for half the summer.

Then Zayn is pretty sure his heart sinks to somewhere around his feet. He thinks if he wasn’t such an idiot he’d be relieved.

Liam meets some girl called Danielle while he’s off being all athletic. Zayn tries his hardest not to care, to be happy for him and the giddy little rush Liam’s voice has when he talks about her on one of their nightly phone calls. Zayn always makes sure he’s home in time for them, so he can stare at the stars on his ceiling while they talk. It’s probably really pathetic of him.

It’s not that he just sits around all summer and waits for Liam, though. Louis convinces him, and Niall and Harry, to help with this youth theatre thing he’s running. It starts with Louis and Zayn’s younger sisters and eventually becomes most of the kids in the neighborhood. It makes him wish Liam was there, for so many reasons, but also because he’s read about ten books about friends starting a summer project of sorts, and telling Liam the plot over the phone just isn’t the same. It is a distraction, though. So he spends his days doing acting exercises with seven year-olds and watching Harry and Louis add some sort of co-parenting thing to their game. Harry telling Louis how great he is with kids as little girls literally hang off of Louis and Louis confessing how much he’s always liked babies and talking about how much his sisters mean to him and then Harry looks at him with like, visible hearts in his eyes, and Zayn and Niall roll their eyes at each other.

Zayn also dates, a little, a boy named Chris who is very serious and reads a lot and drinks endless cups of coffee and is eventually far too much and far too little like Liam all at once, and a girl called Claire whose sister works at a tattoo shoppe and who sits with Zayn for three different tattoos he gets over the course of the summer. She’s only in town for a few months, and she has the disadvantage of also not being Liam, so that fizzles before the bright red around Zayn’s latest tattoo has faded.

When Liam comes back he’s full of stories and he’s texting Danielle and blushing as he does and Zayn just wants them to hide away in bed for days because he’s selfish. He can’t, obviously, that’s not a choice. Liam’s not a choice, he reminds himself, constantly. Still, he gets a rush when Liam’s eyes trace his tattoos, careful and slow.

“Did that hurt?” Liam asks.

“A little,” Zayn says. They’re on Liam’s bed, under the stars, and Liam’s put his phone away and is concentrating all his energy on Zayn. It’s nicer than it should be.

“I used to think I’d had all the needles I needed in my lifetime,” Liam says.

“Understandable,” Zayn says, wincing.

“But I like those, on you,” Liam says. Zayn wills himself not to blush. Tells himself it’s still just Liam, that he’s being ridiculous.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do they like, do they feel different, your skin there, I mean? Is it different?” Liam asks, eyes still tracing. Zayn swallows.

“Not really,” he says.

“Can,” Liam starts, then he shakes his head. “dumb, sorry.”

“Tell me,” Zayn says.

“Can I touch them?” Liam asks. Zayn thinks he might be dying, actually dying. He nods his head rapidly because he hates himself, apparently, and then Liam’s fingers are on him and it’s. Liam has touched him hundreds of times, they’ve been tangled in each other a million times, they’ve had their hands on each other more times than Zayn can even remember- but now. This is, Liam’s hands are, fuck, they’re good hands, and Zayn feels like he might be coming out of his skin a little with Liam’s hands on him.

“See, not different,” he manages. His eyes flutter closed, just a little, but Liam doesn’t seem to notice. He’s still touching Zayn, still looking.

“It’s amazing, ‘cause you’re you, and i’ve been looking at you for like, my whole life, but now there are these, and they’re different from ever before and they’re here to stay and they came while I was gone,” Liam says.

“You said you liked them,” Zayn says.

“I do, m’just not used to them,” Liam says. Zayn swallows again. Liam pulls his hands away.

“Sorry. You don’t, I didn’t mean to imply you need to run things past me or anything, that’s not- I’m just sort of fascinated,” Liam says, shrugging.

Zayn has no idea how he’s ever going to get over this.

It really, mostly, is not a thing. Zayn refuses to let it be a thing. There are moments when it’s like this overwhelming, oxygen-sucking, skin-crawling, most restless he’s ever fucking been feeling- but most of the time it’s just quietly there. He’s busy enough that it doesn’t really matter, honestly. He’s got other other things to do, he’s taken this crap job at a coffee shop and he’s finalizing all these things for university and he’s got all this coursework and then Niall ropes them all into this band-thing, and Zayn doesn’t have time to be in love with Liam. Mostly. Honestly.

The band-thing goes like this. The funding for theatre gets cut into in the fall and so it’s announced they won’t be doing a musical at all and Louis is pouting and they’re sitting at lunch and mostly Zayn is trying not to watch who Liam is texting out of the corner of his eye because that’s just sad, really.

“I was going to get Zayn to join up this year too!” Louis says.

“Right after you started that team of yours, Lou?” Zayn throws back.

“Unfair,” Louis says, pouting deeper. “Liam! Make Zayn be nice to me!”

“I’m always nice,” Zayn says.

“You’re awful. And who will take my camp next summer if I wasn’t even in a musical? No one, that’s who. Like three people will come and I’ll have no money and it would be very sad,” Louis says.

“It would have been fun if we all did it, if we got you to sing,” Liam puts in, glancing over at Zayn.

“We could try and fundraise it ourselves?” Harry suggests.

“In all the time we have,” Zayn says, nodding.

“Unhelpful! Again!” Louis says.

“I think that would take more money than we’d know how to fundraise,” Liam says.

“And we’d need permission, if we could raise it,” Zayn says.

“Zayn!” Louis says.

“What? We would! That was helpful,” Zayn protests.

“This is no time for your logic! Yours either!” Louis says, throwing a straw wrapper at Liam’s head.

“I did have an idea,” Niall says. They all turn to look at him.

“Not for fundraising, but. There’s this thing, yeah? This battle of the bands thing, and there are these prizes, we could all buy stuff for our rooms next year, or fund Louis’ camp, or both? And it’s just the singing part, but,” Niall says. He reaches into his bag and pulls out several fliers and passes them out to four pairs of raised eyebrows.

“Really?” Liam asks, his voice all enthusiastic. Which really cuts into Zayn’s skepticism. Liam’s good for that. Those superpowers, maybe.

“We all sing? And I can play, and Li, you took music theory and composition and stuff, right?” Niall asks.

“I did, I’m not sure I’m very good, though,” Liam says.

“So? We can practice, figure it out,” Niall says.

“These are some serious prizes,” Harry says, scanning his flier.

“Everyone should be in a band at least once, I think. Part of growing up and all that,” Louis says, beaming.

“Yeah?” Niall asks.

“I like it,” Louis says, “it’s not the same and I’m still sad, but yes. Let’s do this anyway.”

“If we win you could put that on your fliers, it would be impressive,” Harry says, grabbing Louis’ hand across the table and nodding. Liam’s nodding too, not that it matters, because Louis’ already agreed so obviously they’re doing it. But.

“Zayn?” Niall asks, and they all look at him questioningly, which he appreciates.

“Sure,” Zayn says. “I can stand in the back though, yeah?”

“No,” Louis and Liam say at the same time. Zayn glares at them.

“You could do that a lot though! Very rock and roll,” Niall says.

“Fuck off. Can I dress us, then?” Zayn says.

“I think he insulted us,” Louis says, grinning.

“He’s not wrong,” Niall says. Under the table, Liam squeezes Zayn’s knee and Zayn’s stomach does this thing it really shouldn’t. Zayn thinks maybe they should songs about being the most pathetic person on earth. He’d relate to them at this moment.

They end up singing about being young, and it’s upbeat and fun and Zayn gets talked into singing a bridge and in rehearsals it all sounds really good, actually. This probably isn’t a terrible idea, all things considered. It’s a Friday and they’re about an hour from their performance and Zayn’s unpacking the outfits he’s picked for everyone and thinking about how he’d finalized his university packet, except for exam results, obviously, earlier that day and it’s all very. He doesn’t know yet. It makes him a little antsy. Jittery. He’s trying to channel it into performance jitters when Niall walks up.

“How far are you from your next smoke break?” Niall asks. Zayn arches an eyebrow.

“I could be talked into about thirty seconds,” Zayn says.

“That is the correct answer,” Niall says.

“I take it you’re coming?” Zayn asks.

“Also correct.”

“And I’m sharing?”

“You’re the smartest man alive,” Niall says. Zayn grins and throws an arm around Niall’s shoulder as they walk outside.

“You nervous?” Zayn asks, reaching for his lighter.

“Nah,” Niall says, “Well. Not like, worried, but if this is terrible or we’re shit or something then it’s sort of my fault. My idea and all,” Niall says.

“Understood,” Zayn says.

“That’s reassuring,” Niall says.

“Reassuring people is Liam’s job, or Harry’s,” Zayn says.

“True enough,” Niall says, taking a deep, long drag of his cigarette.

“We won’t be shit?” Zayn says. Niall laughs.

“That’s much better,” Niall says. “I’m not stressed at all now.”

“I should be a motivational speaker,” Zayn says.

“Any other career would be a waste,” Niall says. Zayn grins.

“I finalized all my uni stuff today,” Zayn says.

“Yeah? I’ve got a meeting next week,” Niall says, making a face. Zayn nods.

“You ever think it’s weird, like, everyone from our school who goes to university goes to the same three places, all basically on top of each other, so they send us all off, but not really?” Zayn says, voicing something he’s been thinking lately. It’s true, for all that their school boasts a very high rate of sending students onto to further education, they send them all to the same places, year after year. There are all these things open, all these things they could all do, the world is so fucking big, but they all follow these paths.

“There are always a few kids who break away, go hours away,” Niall says, shrugging.

“Like three,” Zayn says.

“Thinking of joining them?”

“Not really,” Zayn says, shrugging.

“Good. No breaking up the band,” Niall says, smirking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Zayn says.

“Seriously though, if you wanted to like, go to Spain or America or something then you know, fuck all of us and all of it and do what makes you happy though, right?” Niall says, nodding.

“I don’t really, I just maybe think I like, should,” Zayn says.

“If you wanted to you would,” Niall says, “you would know.”

“I guess.”

“Plus, I think we might have all signed a contract in blood once when we were drunk promising Lou we wouldn’t go far away for uni. Or anything else,” Niall says, smirking and putting out his cigarette.

“We probably did,” Zayn agrees, “can’t break that.”

“Also Liam would have to return those stars,” Niall says.

“What?”

“Right. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that?” Niall says, looking a little sheepish, “Last week he bought this big pack of stars, like those ones you two have on your ceilings? For your room next year. I think he’s giving to them you when we graduate?”

“Oh,” Zayn says.

“Yeah,” Niall says. “How’s that going, by the way?”

“What?” Zayn asks, and his heart is doing that. Liam thing. That thing where it goes all completely out of his control and and fast and then also bigger maybe and it’s like. He’s fine. Really.

“The crush thing?”

“I was half tempted to ask you to throw that rock over there at my head, so,” Zayn says.

“Ah,” Niall says.

“Yeah.”

“It’s probably worse that he does love you, so much, but it’s not the same, that has to be harder,” Niall muses.

“Maybe you should be the motivational speaker,” Zayn says, pulling out his lighter again, because that’s just. That’s sort of it exactly. This fucking, it’s so impossible because that should be enough, star stickers for their ceiling should be enough but it’s not and he hates that he can’t make it be. He hates that he can’t not want more.

“Sorry,” Niall says.

“It’s not like it’s not true,” Zayn says. Niall nods.

“So we won’t be shit?”

“We won’t be shit,” Zayn says.

They end up coming in third place, which Zayn feels pretty good considering they’d only formed a band about six weeks ago. His bridge had earned several low whistles and several people had rushed him after, wanting him to sign things like he’s somebody, like he’s a big deal and not some kid who didn’t even win. It’s all very weird, but a pretty good day overall. They divide their prize money five ways, or at least they start to, but then Zayn catches Harry’s eyes, and then Liam meets their eyes too, and then Niall, and the four of them nod and hand their money back to Louis and refuse to let him talk them out of it.

Not that Zayn notices every single moment, but as the months go on, Liam and and his summer girlfriend Danielle send fewer and fewer texts. Liam still grins at his phone when he gets them, but he gets fewer, and Zayn is an awful person because he’s glad. He’s sure she’s lovely, really, but still. He likes to tell himself that as long as it’s only in his head, a little selfishness is okay, really. In late spring she’s scheduled to come and visit, and Zayn wonders how many shifts he can schedule himself for. He doesn’t get the chance though, not really. Because as always, Liam has superpowers, and Zayn has no willpower. They’re sitting in Liam’s room, watching a rerun of some sitcom, not really paying attention, but the main plot is about a double date and maybe mistaken identity or something similar.

“You know, we’ve never done that,” Liam says.

“No,” Zayn says.

“I didn’t ask you anything,” Liam says, frowning.

“No, Li,” Zayn says.

“I didn’t,” Liam says.

“You were going to,” Zayn says.

“Well yes, but I hadn’t yet!” Liam says.

“No,” Zayn says again. He can’t. There is no way he can, he can’t double date with Liam. That’s the most masochistic thing he’s ever heard of.

“It’s just, when Danielle comes in she has this friend that lives here too, and I thought it would be fun?”

“No.”

“Please?” Liam asks, all big eyes and fuck. Zayn shuts his eye and attempts to summon his will power. And possibly also some dignity.

“Why? Don’t you want to be alone?” Zayn asks. That’s not really any less painful, actually.

“Well, it’s been almost a year,” Liam says.

“Right, so you should want to be alone,” Zayn says again.

“But it’s been almost a year and we didn’t know each other that long to start with and what if it’s different? What if it’s not fun? What if I’m boring? What if we don’t have things to talk about? What if it’s awful?” Liam says.

“You’re worried?” Zayn asks. He’s still not opening his eyes. Not seeing Liam’s face is probably his last line of defense here.

“Yes,” Liam says.

“Good worried, like, nervous and butterflies and shit? Or bad worried?”

“Both, I don’t, I can’t go alone,” Liam says.

“It’s a date,” Zayn says.

“Please?” Liam says again, “Just, I’m sure her friend is great and you can bail if she’s not, but just, please?”

“When?” Zayn asks. Because. Liam said please.

“Next Friday!” Liam says, Zayn opens his eyes and Liam is bouncing and then he’s throwing himself into and hugging him and whispering, “thank you,” in his ear. Zayn is so beyond fucked.

Danielle turns out to be very pretty, which Zayn wills himself to be okay with. She and Liam are stupidly cute, all holding hands and big smiles and memories over dinner. Zayn could really use a drink. His date is a girl named Perrie, she’s pretty, too, blonde with colors in her hair and big eyes and under other circumstances Zayn would probably be really interested. That sort of makes it worse. She seems fun, she laughs a lot and she’s got a load of bracelets on her wrist and she tells big stories and she’s got a good smile and she smells good and Zayn feels terrible that he’s not really paying attention.

“You should let me do your hair,” Perrie says at one point, reaching out and and ruffling Zayn’s hair. He flinches, reflexively. Across the table, Liam giggles at him.

“Yeah?” Zayn attempts.

“Yeah! I got like, twelve ideas just sitting here with you,” she says.

“Perrie’s going to do hair,” Danielle puts in, grinning.

“In the back of my boutique,” Perrie says, “It’s going to be this fantastic little shoppe in the front and the a hair salon in the back.”

“That’s really cool,” Zayn says, truthfully. She beams.

“It’s going to be amazing, you want to see?” she asks.

“See?”

“I made plans on the internet, room designs and all that, and then I sent them to my phone so I can show people,” Perrie says.

“That’s a good idea,” Liam says, and Zayn can almost see him thinking of all the things he should plan and send to his own phone.

“Thanks!” Perrie beams. She pulls out her phone and shows Zayn, and then Liam and Danielle, the images on screen, which admittedly, look really good.

“Those are even better than last time I saw them,” Danielle says.

“I got a better editing program,” Perrie says, nodding. “You have to have a plan. I’d never get a loan without designs.”

“That’s smart,” Liam says, still looking impressed.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

“Oh! Let’s go for drinks after this, yeah? I can call some people and we can all go that club on sixth?” Perrie says. It’s sort of an abrupt subject change, but Zayn generally enjoys that in people so he nods, but then Liam’s saying,

“I don’t really drink that often, I had some health problems as a kid.”

“Which gave him lots of ammunition when the rest of us were wasted this summer,” Danielle says, nodding foundly. Zayn frowns. That’s. That’s a thing Liam says when he just doesn’t want to. Zayn’s seen Liam drunk more times than he can count, but he’s also, once or twice, seen this, at parties when Liam doesn’t look comfortable, around new people, Liam does this, excuses himself. Zayn’s not sure why’s he doing it now. He does, however, take a moment to be gratified that Liam doesn’t even bother to shoot him a please go with this look, because clearly Liam trusts that Zayn just will.

“You could call your friends too! We’ll make a party out of it!” Perrie says.

“I could drive,” Liam says, ultra responsible like, “and make some calls.”

“If you want to,” Danielle says, smiling.

“Let’s go,” Liam says, nodding. Zayn wonders if that’s because he’s excused himself from drinking or because he’s calling Louis, Harry and Niall as backup.

“I’m in,” Zayn says, meeting Liam’s eyes across the table. Liam lifts his eyebrows, just a little bit, a small thank you, and Zayn nods.

Zayn ends up sitting on a barstool, watching Liam and Danielle dance and doing shots and agreeing to let Perrie dye his hair before she wanders off to join her three friends. He wishes he could bring himself to tell her not to, but he’s busy watching Liam, and he can't muster the energy.

“Hey there, stoic,” Louis says, walking up. He looks like hell, Zayn notes. This is bad.

“You alright, Lou?”

“From the man downing shots while staring at Liam? I’m on top of the world, darlin’,” Louis says.

“Where’s Harry?” Zayn asks, spotting Niall walking in and being introduced to Danielle.

“I don’t know,” Louis says, instantly cold. Oh. It’s one of those days. Right.

“What happened?”

“With what?” Louis says.

“Louis,” Zayn says, raising an eyebrow.

“He was terrible, that’s what! He feels like I should put him before my family, did you know that? He was very awful and selfish and we shouldn’t talk to him anymore,” Louis says, flopping down next to Zayn.

“Harry said that?” Zayn asks, letting as much disbelief as possibly drip into his voice.

“Yes!” Louis says.

“Really?”

“Well,” Louis says.

“What happened?” Zayn asks again. Louis sighs.

“Well he, he had these forms about housing, for next year? And he was asking me about them and about us living together or at least in the same hall, and I have family responsibilities! Which I told him. I told him I am living at home next year! And he was selfish,” Louis says, but he wavers a little on the last bit.

“Yeah?” Zayn asks, passing Louis a shot. He’s bought himself a truly sad number of them.

“Yes! He, okay so he said he completely understood and that he had been sort of hoping so he was a little disappointed but he respected my choices and loved how close I was to my family,” Louis says, looking sad.

“He’s a monster,” Zayn says.

“But then he asked, then he said, like he was all sad, that he just had to ask that if I didn’t have family things I would want to live with him, or at least want to continue doing whatever it is we do into university,” Louis says.

“Date, I think, is the term there,” Zayn says. Louis makes a face.

“It’s not,” Louis says, waving his hand, “but so then I said like, that university was a big place and we would meet all sorts of people and I wouldn’t want him to feel tied to some bloke living in his mum’s house.”

“Lou,” Zayn says. “Why?”

“I don’t, I don’t want him to feel tied! And he asked! And I don’t know! But he. Didn’t take that well,” Louis says.

“And then?”

“And then we yelled at each other for a while and now I’m here,” Louis says.

“Fuck,” Zayn says.

“Yeah, well. Let’s drink as much as we can,” Louis says. “about our pathetic love lives.”

“Someone has to,” Zayn says.

“Meaning?” Louis asks.

“Liam isn’t. Apparently he doesn’t. Health problems, you know. Danielle said he didn’t drink all summer,” Zayn says. He is the worst person alive, but it’s Louis and he’s been drinking and he can just say things.

“I have videos of Liam drunkenly telling us all some inane story about spoons on my phone I could show her,” Louis says, raising an eyebrow.

“Not worth it,” Zayn says. “she’s nice.”

“That’s worse then,” Louis says. Zayn feels like he hears that a lot.

“Yeah. Well. Maybe he doesn’t need to drink around her because they’re like, that good together,” Zayn says.

“For fuck’s sake, Zayn,” Louis says. Zayn winces.

“Yeah, that was the most pathetic thing I possibly could have said, isn’t it?” Zayn asks.

“Yes. Christ,” Louis says.

“Right,” Zayn says.

“You can’t out-sad me, we have to be even, so you can’t say shit like that,” Louis says.

“Deal,” Zayn says.

He doesn’t remember most of the night after that.

At the end of the week when Danielle leaves, she and Liam decide to just be friends, and Zayn’s got blonde in the front of his hair. He’s not sure he got something more permanent out of the week than Liam, but he’s certain it’s unfair.

“You okay?” Zayn asks when Liam crawls into his bed the night Danielle leaves.

“I guess,” Liam says.

“You going to miss her?” Zayn asks, because he is determined to be a good friend, even if it actually kills him.

“We broke up,” Liam says. Zayn’s heart rate triples. He ignores it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Zayn asks. Liam burrows himself into Zayn’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t the same, I knew it wouldn’t be, I think we both knew,” Liam says.

“Sorry,” Zayn says again.

“It’s okay. We’re going to try and be friends? Although I guess everyone says that?” Liam says.

“You two seemed to be having fun,” Zayn says.

“We were, but it wasn’t, you know, she’s so great, but it.”

“Wasn’t the same?”

“Right,” Liam confirms, snuggling further into Zayn.

“Can I ask you something?” Zayn asks.

“Yes,” Liam says from somewhere around Zayn’s stomach. Zayn slides his arms around Liam and just breathes him in for a minute.

“What was up with the drinking thing?” Zayn asks.

“I don’t like to drink around strangers? It’s different when it’s just the five of us, or us and a few people from school, but this summer when I didn’t know anyone? I just don’t want to not be in control around people I don’t know, and so I said I couldn’t, and then by the time she wasn’t a stranger it was too late to take it back, so i just stuck with it,” Liam says.

“Oh,” Zayn says.

“Thank you for not saying anything,” Liam says.

“Of course,” Zayn says. Liam reaches out his hand and laces their fingers together.

“And thank you for coming with me. I wanted you there,” Liam says.

“You’re welcome,” Zayn says.

“How’re Lou and Harry?” Liam asks.

“I think it’s really bad this time,” Zayn says, smiling a little at the subject change, even if he’s worried about Harry and Louis.

“They always get through it,” Liam says.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

“You and me are still living together, right?” Liam asks.

“Who else would I live with?” Zayn asks. He can feel Liam beam against him.

“We’ll always be the same, right? You and me?” Liam asks. Zayn feels like his throat might close up.

“Always the same,” Zayn echoes.

“Good, I need my Zayn,” Liam says. God, all Zayn wants is for that to be enough. He just. Everything would be so so easy, so fantastic, if that was enough.

“Need you too, can’t explore space on my own,” Zayn says.

“Can we find as much chocolate as possible? And then you can tell me books about breakups?” Liam asks.

“I think there’s ice cream in the freezer,” Zayn says.

They finish the whole cartoon and spoon syrup into their mouths and Zayn feels twelve and also about a million all at once. All he wants to do, for the rest of his life, is sit under their stupid stars and eat chocolate with Liam, and it’s not getting any better, it’s not going away.

He’s starting to think it’s not going to.

Harry and Louis don’t work through it. At least not right away. All summer, even as Harry leads sections at Louis' camp, and into the start of university, they send each other daggers, and it’s very weird. Niall says he feels like the kids in a messy divorce. Zayn thinks that’s more accurate than any of them will admit. One night in the fall when Liam is home for the weekend, his sister’s birthday, Louis let’s himself in their room and and throws himself on Zayn’s bed.

“Let’s run away together,” Louis says.

“Sure,” Zayn says.

“We could! We’ll elope! You love me, right? It would work. We could just, it was so much easier when it was us,” Louis says.

“It was,” Zayn agrees, laying down next to Louis, thinking back to to those days, to before, to when it was new.

“And you love me,” Louis repeats, like a question.

“You know I do,” Zayn says.

“And I love you,” Louis says. “So what’s stopping us?”

“Where did you want me to start?” Zayn says.

“I know,” Louis sighs.

“Did you see him, then?” Zayn asks.

“He just, I asked him if he was seeing anyone and he told me he wasn’t going to let me throw him away, but like, if he wants to come back he should come the fuck back and I, it’s too hard,” Louis says.

“Why would you ask him that?” Zayn asks.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Louis says.

“Sorry,” Zayn says.

“It’s just, hard, all the time, and it hurts and it’s shit,” Louis says.

“I know,” Zayn says.

“I know you do! That’s the point! So we should elope or something!” Louis says, turning to Zayn and grabbing his hand.

“Lou,”

“Seriously, well, okay, maybe not the eloping, but don’t you ever think, maybe we make this all really hard?”

“Meaning what?” Zayn asks. He shifts closer to Louis on the bed as he does.

“Like, it was so easy when it was us, and you’re so, I mean, look at you, right? And I do love you, and it’s not the same, I guess, but maybe, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be easier and hurt less if we just,” Louis stops and shrugs.

“What are you saying?” Zayn asks.

“Maybe it just makes more sense, it’s more logical, if we stopped doing these things that broke our hearts, and did what we both know we can? Fuck, Zayn I’m so tired of hurting, and I’m so damn lonely anymore and I, we could,” Louis stop, and he raises his eyebrows in question and just like that Zayn is fourteen fuckng years old again and he nods, even this is a terrible idea, an awful idea, really. Louis leans in and then they’re kissing, lips sliding and shifting towards each other until their hips hit and it. It really is easy, and Zayn has missed this, missed Louis like this, even if he shouldn’t and it’s.

“Louis,” Zayn says against Louis’ mouth, and he means it to come out sort of like protest, but he slides his hand under Louis’ shirt as he does.

“See?” Louis says back.

“That was a pathetic seduction,” Zayn says, swallowing a groan when their hips hit.

“Shut up and do that again,” Louis bites out. So Zayn does, so he shuts up and he shuts his brain down and he slides his hands all over Louis, touching all the places time has changed, years adding muscles and lines that weren’t there before. Zayn wants to lick them, and so he does, pulling Louis’ shirt off and angling their legs and shifting and rolling his hips as he licks finds all the spots that make Louis squirm all over again. Louis puts his hands on Zayn’s hips, locking them and pulling Zayn down closer and closer and until the space between them is nothing but body heat and lust and need. Fucking need because Zayn needs this, he thinks. Other people get over people with loads of sex, right? This is. Louis is often brilliant at terrible, terrible ideas.

“I missed this,” Zayn says, reaching for Louis’ belt.

“Missed you too,” Louis says, and then he’s flipping them and he’s on top and he’s pulling Zayn’s pants down and licking Zayn’s thighs and heading in and Zayn just-

Fuck. This is the best terrible idea Louis has ever had.

And after, and after three times after that, when they’re laying tangled on Zayn’s bed, he feels amazing, and Louis is honestly, he’s Louis and Zayn does love him, and it’s like, with everything else in his life, it’s not enough. He really wishes it was. But it’s not. Maybe that’s why the world always feels so big, because Zayn just always always wants more.

“That was a good idea,” Louis says.

“Yeah,” Zayn says. “still want to elope?”

“Zayn,” Louis says, frowning a little.

“I know,” Zayn says.

“We can’t just make it this easy because we want it to be, can we?” Louis asks.

“I guess not,” Zayn says.

“And if we tried it would just fuck us up more, wouldn’t it?” Louis asks.

“Probably,” Zayn says.

“Why? Why can’t you and I just, why doesn’t it work?” Louis asks, kissing Zayn’s forehead, “Because it does work.”

“I think it might be because we know them. Which is extra sad in my case,” Zayn says.

“But probably true,” Louis says, “always so smart, Zayn.”

“We made a good try of it just then,” Zayn says.

“An amazing try,” Louis says. “I feel like your stars are judging us.”

“They do that,” Zayn says, “They know.”

“Nosey fucks,” Louis says.

“Yeah,” Zayn says. He wishes it was enough, this easy, this good. He wants it to be. They want it to be.

“You want to spend the whole weekend giving it a valiant effort? We can go back to breaking our own hearts on Monday?” Louis says.

“Absolutely,” Zayn says. And it’s just. So easy.

If Liam suspects when he gets back and Louis’ shirt is still on their floor, he doesn’t say anything.

Two days later Zayn makes sure Harry is standing in the yard on campus when Louis stands on a bench and yells,

“I fucking miss you, alright? I miss you, Harry. Please don’t let me shut you out,” and Harry basically leaps at him and they make out on the the bench and people cheer like they’re in some sort of movie. Zayn likes to think he helped. He’s glad one of them is happy.

Zayn’s putting together a presentation for an early morning interview when Liam comes in, beaming. He’s just absolutely beaming. Zayn frowns, because Liam had been at the doctor’s, and still, after all these years, Zayn still gets this stab of fear anytime Liam goes near a hospital or doctor’s office.

“Zayn!” Liam says, and then he’s jumping on the couch and throwing himself into Zayn’s arms full on and making Zayn drop the pencil he was holding.

“Hi?” Zayn says.

“You’ll never believe it! I didn’t believe it!” Liam says.

“Believe what?” Zayn asks. Liam pulls back and looks at him sort of wild eyed, like maybe he thinks Zayn really won’t believe him.

“You’ll never believe it,” Liam says.

“You’ve developed superpowers?” Zayn suggests, a little to be funny and a little because sometimes he likes to poke his own feelings like that. It’s helpful, like plasters or something. Liam does not have superpowers. Liam is straight. Liam is his best friend. Right.

“Sort of!” Liam says. Wait. What?

“Sorry?” Zayn says.

“My kidney! The bad one? It’s better,” Liam says.

“What?” Zayn asks. He’s almost positive that isn’t a thing. Actual fucking superpowers.

“It healed itself, I guess? They did tests and both of them work!” Liam says.

“Is that possible?” Zayn asks.

“I guess,” Liam enthuses. “That’s what they told me.”

“Damn,” Zayn says.

“Right?” Liam asks, “I didn’t believe it. I still don’t, really.”

“That’s, that’s incredible, Li,” Zayn says. Liam shakes his head.

“I know! I thought it would be my whole life, like, always watching out and always not all the way healthy, you know?” Liam ponders.

“You’re the healthiest person I know,” Zayn says. Liam shakes his head.

“You know what I mean,” He says.

“Yeah,” Zayn says.

“So I have two kidneys,” Liam says, like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever heard. Probably because it is.

“You always did,” Zayn points out, “but now both of them work.”

“I feel like it’s not real, is that stupid?” Liam asks.

“I feel like it’s not real, and it’s your kidney, so if it’s stupid then we’re both stupid, yeah?” Zayn says. Liam beams and pulls Zayn into another huge hug.

“Do something for me?” Liam asks.

“‘Course,” Zayn says.

“Let’s do something to celebrate,” Liam says, grabbing Zayn’s hand.

“Like go out, all five of us?” Zayn asks.

“No! Well, yes, actually, we should do that. Tonight, maybe? But I meant you and me,” Liam says.

“Okay,” Zayn says. It’s a good thing all of Liam’s organs work properly, because Zayn feels like his lungs and his stomach and his heart are betraying him. Have been. For years.

“We should go away, for a weekend,” Liam says.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know! Somewhere fun! We could ski! Or go to France or Germany or somewhere, just us,” Liam says.

“Can we afford that?” Zayn asks, even though he’s already budgeting exactly how much they can spend and thinking about how he’ll have to look up hotels later.

“Who cares?” Liam asks. Zayn arches an eyebrow, “We’re celebrating! You should indulge me.”

“Because you have magic organs?”

“Yes! And I want to go away somewhere new. Just us, to celebrate,” Liam says.

“Okay,” Zayn says. He’s sure he should have held out a little longer there. Oh well.

“Really?” Liam asks.

“To celebrate,” Zayn says. Liam beams again and then slides down into Zayn’s arms, looking giddy.

“Out tonight, too?” Liam asks.

“I’ll make calls,” Zayn says. Liam giggles. Fucking superpowers.

He texts everyone, which is close enough to calling, and they head out to get the kind of spectacularly drunk you get when your mate has self-healing organs. Liam gets fairly gone fairly quickly, standing at the bar, giggling with Harry and flushed.

“You know,” Louis says from the table where Zayn and Louis are sitting while everyone else takes a very long time getting another round. He thinks Liam’s done three shots since he’s been gone, head buried in Harry’s shoulder and Niall’s hand steadying him. “Sometimes I am not convinced of our Liam’s heterosexuality.”

“You should watch him around Harry, then, they look cozy,” Zayn says. Louis makes a face.

“I’m ignoring that because I know this subject is close to your heart,” Louis says.

“There is no subject,” Zayn says. Louis smirks.

“Asked you away for the weekend, yes?” Louis asks.

“It’s not a thing, Lou,” Zayn says.

“We’ll see,” Louis says.

“Leave it,” Zayn says. Which would work under normal circumstances, but these are drunk circumstances, and by an hour later Louis has an arm around Liam and Liam is giggling into his shoulder now and Louis is fiddling with his hair and generally trying to make Liam blush and Zayn wonders how hard it would be to find new friends.

“Liam,” Louis says, drunk and determined.

“Louis,” Liam says back, giggles and slurs and it is such an issue how Zayn finds even this charming, it really is.

“Sometimes, I think, that you, my Liam, are not as straight as you think you are,” Louis says, punctuating his point by licking Liam’s neck. Zayn is going to murder him. Or possibly drown himself in his own drink, he hasn't decided.

“Sometimes, Louis, I think you might be very right about that,” Liam says, before collapsing into giggles on Louis’ shoulder. Louis shoots Zayn a triumphant look and Harry shoots Louis a reprimanding look and Zayn puts his head on the table and Harry rubs his shoulders, soothingly.

Zayn is fairly certain their weekend away might be the death of him.

Zayn’s job is basically ideal, the gallery is quiet and he gets to take smoke breaks whenever he wants and there are like, four events a week where he can drink at work and he hands out information and sits at his desk and works around art and makes all these great connections and it’s brilliant, it is. The drawback would be that they’re a free public gallery, which means he has to deal with the public. Which leads to a lot of people coming in to his gallery to ask him for directions like he’s some sort of information stand, or, worse, coming into his gallery, looking around and then complaining about how the images are inappropriate for the four-year-old they have with them.

It makes Zayn need those smoke breaks, really. He’s complained about all of it dozens of times now, and that’s exactly why Louis walks in four days after Liam’s kidney news and says,

“This art is so offensive! What if I had children with me!”

“Fuck off,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes.

“Afternoon, love,” Louis says, grinning and walking up to Zayn’s desk.

“I’m working,” Zayn says.

“Terribly hard, I see. How do you keep up with it all?” Louis says.

“What do you want?” Zayn says, but he’s grinning.

“I have news!” Louis says.

“News?” Zayn asks.

“You have, I’m sure, noticed my absence in the past few days,” Louis says.

“I’ve been a wreck without you,” Zayn says.

“I’m sure you have, but I’m a busy man,” Louis says.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“This!” Louis says, throwing papers down in front of Zayn and looking pleased. Zayn raises an eyebrow and then scans them and-

“You and Harry rented an apartment?” Zayn asks.

“We did!”

“Just you?”

“That’s the idea,” Louis says, grinning.

“How did this happen?” Zayn asks.

“Liam, actually. His little miracle has been, you know, thought-provoking, the meaning of life, time here is precious and all that, right? And I was at Harry and Niall’s and in Harry’s bed and I’m always there now, always and I just thought, it was time,” Louis says.

“So you and Harry?” Zayn asks.

“We had this long talk, about like, what we’ve been doing for years? And it’s, it makes sense,” Louis says.

“So you’re an actual couple now, like actual people?” Zayn asks.

“Well, as I’m stupidly in love with him, it’s fitting,” Louis says. Zayn smiles.

“When do you move in?”

“Three weeks, we’re having a big housewarming thing, after you and Liam get back from your romantic weekend, of course, and everyone has to come,” Louis says.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Zayn asks, ignoring the romantic thing because he really is happy for Louis.

“Incredibly,” Louis says.

“You told me once he was terrifying,” Zayn says.

“He still is,” Louis says, but he looks happy, content, confident.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Zayn says. Louis grins at him.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Louis says.

“For?”

“Liam the other night, I might have been a little out of line,” Louis says.

“A little,” Zayn says.

“Mad?” Louis asks.

“Never,” Zayn says. “I wanted to murder you, but it's passed.”

“I shouldn’t fear for my safety, then?”

“We’re good,” Zayn says.

“You should tell him, you know,” Louis says.

“What?”

“Liam, you should tell him,” Louis says.

“Why?” Zayn asks, because, really Louis can't be suggesting he act on Liam’ nonsensical drunk mumblings.

“Because it’s been two years,” Louis says. “longer, really, but two years since you said it to us.”

“And nothing has changed,” Zayn says.

“I just think it might do you good to say it,” Louis says.

“Him knowing isn’t going to make me feel any better,” Zayn says. Louis’ face goes all pity at that.

“Zayn, do you really think he doesn’t know?” Louis asks.

“Why would he know?” Zayn asks, a little panicky at the thought.

“How could he not?” Louis asks.

“Because. I’ve never told him!” Zayn says. Louis shakes his head.

“Whatever you say. I still think you should put it out there,” Louis says.

“Signing a lease with Harry does not make you an expert on relationships,” Zayn says.

“Fair point. But I think being your friend for six years might make me one on you,” Louis says.

“Go away,” Zayn says. “There are real patrons outside the door.”

“Going,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I just think it would be nice if we were all happy.”

“I’m happy,” Zayn says. Louis raises an eyebrow.

“Okay. Send me a postcard from your little getaway, yeah?”

Zayn spends the rest of his shift pointedly not thinking about anything Louis had said.

The hotel room is tiny, one bed and a little fridge and a gross shower, but they’re away, just them, far into the countryside, and there is a pool and a view of this quaint little town and they spend the first day they’re there buying the sorts of little things you only find in small towns. Liam delights in all of it, the town and the fact that they can see cows out their window and the ice machine in the hall and the way they can order a pizza right to their room.

“It’s not space, but it is an adventure,” Liam says, laying on the bed.

“It is,” Zayn agrees, laying back with him, filled with pizza, skin still warm from being in the sun all day.

“I brought something,” Liam says.

“Yeah?” Zayn asks.

“It might be dumb,” Liam says.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Zayn says. Liam flushes and reaches into his suitcase and pulls out a dark blue sheet, covered in glow stars.

“I wanted them with us, so I grabbed a pack, I thought we could pin them to the ceiling?” Liam says. Zayn feels like that cartoon, the grinch, like he can actually feel his heart getting bigger.

“You brought us stars?”

“I don’t like sleeping when I’m not under them,” Liam says.

“I’m pretty used to them too,” Zayn says. Liam grins.

“We’ll have to take stars everywhere we go, our whole lives. We’ll be old men with stars on our ceiling,” Liam says, and Zayn tries not focus on how many times Liam said we and our.

“Maybe we’ll have been in the real ones by then, space exploring,” Zayn says.

“I guess if my kidney can heal itself, we can’t rule out space,” Liam says, beaming.

“Exactly,” Zayn says.

“Help me get it up? I have pins,” Liam says. He reaches in his bag and pulls out pins and then looks up at the troublingly high ceiling.

“How are we going to get up there?” Zayn asks.

“I think,” Liam says. “you have to get on my shoulders. I’ll stand on the bed.”

“Seriously?” Zayn asks.

“How else are we going to get them up?”

“That sounds dangerous,” Zayn says.

“We are on an adventure,” Liam says. Zayn shakes his head.

“Okay,” He says. Liam grins at him and then they’re actually doing this, Liam under him and Zayn reaching up and pinning a sheet on their hotel ceiling. He manages not to fall until after he gets the last one, which he counts as a victory. He falls on top of Liam, he’s not sure if that’s a victory or not. Liam is giggling again, flushed and beaming. Zayn moves to roll off of him and Liam grabs his back and holds him still.

“We got our stars up,” Liam says, under Zayn, holding Zayn against him.

“We did,” Zayn agrees. His eyes are on Liam’s lips and he’s trying to breathe and Liam is smiling at him and then Liam moves up, just a little and he- nods, maybe? And Zayn just. It’s been two fucking years and he’s on top of Liam and he’s only human and so he feels like it’s a forgivable moment of weakness when he leans down and kisses Liam, just for a second.

Liam kisses him back. Without hesitating. Without missing a beat. Zayn is so sure it’s not real for a minute that he keeps letting it happen, keeps kissing Liam until it hits him this is actually happening and he pulls back, breathing heavy.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Zayn says. Liam shakes his head desperately.

“Please don’t be sorry, please, please don’t be sorry,” Liam says. Zayn has no idea what that means, no idea what to say or do and he hears Louis’ voice in his head saying that Liam knows and he doesn’t understand this at all and then Liam is kissing him again and it’s, fuck,it’s so much better than every time Zayn has seen this in his head. He doesn’t feel any less guilty, though, so he pulls back again.

“Wait, Li,” Zayn says. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand and I’m going to need you to help me here, say something.”

“There’s a lot I could say,” Liam says, releasing the hand on Zayn’s back. Zayn takes that as his cue to roll off, so he does, and then they’re both propped on their elbows, looking at each other.

“Pick something, help?” Zayn says.

“I wanted to,” Liam says.

“You wanted to what?” Zayn asks.

“Kiss you, I wanted that, Zayn, I don’t want you to think, like,” Liam stops and sighs, “you’re Zayn, and I know you.”

“You knew then, you know?” Zayn says. He doesn’t want Liam to have known, he doesn’t want this to be some weird pity thing, some weird new-lease-on-life-experiment thing, something Liam feels like he should want.

“Know what?” Liam asks.

“You know,” Zayn repeats.

“Not for certain until right this minute,” Liam says, flushing. “I mean, I thought, maybe? But.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn says.

“Don’t be,” Liam says. “Don’t be sorry.”

“We don’t have to like, we don’t have to do this. You don’t. I’m not your best friend out of some sad plot to win your heart or whatever, seriously. It doesn’t matter, Li. You don’t have to try and be nice and not break my heart or, I don’t know. But it’s not like, a thing.” Zayn says. Liam shakes his head.

“I’m not being nice, I’m being selfish,” Liam says.

“What?”

“I’m being incredibly selfish,” Liam repeats.

“Explain, maybe?” Zayn asks. he grips the sheets tight because he feels like he’s losing control on everything: the night, Liam, his life.

“I think I’ve been jealous, I know I have, I think, I don’t know,” Liam says.

“Honestly, we don’t have to do this,” Zayn says, willing himself not to focus on jealous.

“You remember that night we went camping, and Louis laughed at what I wanted in a girl, because I’d described you?” Liam asks.

“Louis was just being Louis, and we were kids,” Zayn says.

“See, but that’s a moment I’ve thought about a thousand times,” Liam says.

“Why?”

“Because I was jealous, and I’m selfish and I wanted to kiss you, and I want,” Liam stops. Zayn thinks possibly his heart does, too.

“Okay, I really need you to tell me what you’re trying to say here,” Zayn says. Liam reaches out and grabs Zayn’s hand and takes a giant breath.

“I was so jealous, Zayn, of Louis. Of all of that, fuck, I was. Like, I tried not to be, and then I tried to tell myself it was that I felt like you were replacing me, you know? But it wasn’t and I didn’t know why or what it was, for years. But then it wasn’t just Louis, but then it was everyone you dated and everyone who looked at you, and I’m so selfish because I don’t know what it means but I just want you and me and these stupid stars on our ceiling until we’re old and I want to take holidays with you and I want to kiss you, I really, really liked kissing you, and I just- I didn’t think it was okay or fair to want that, any of that, but I don’t know how to not want it. And when I found out about my kidney I didn’t even think about telling anyone else before you, and I bought a copy of that book you brought me when we were twelve, did you know? I bought it two summers ago when I was away because I missed you and I read it four times and it’s under my mattress at our flat and I don’t know how to say this or do this but I don’t- this isn’t friend stuff, it’s not-” Liam trails off and hides his face in the bed and Zayn just.

“Platonic,” he whispers, because he doesn’t have a single word right now, because he doesn’t want to say anything more substantial until he does.

“What?”

“The word, at the end there, platonic. This isn’t platonic,” Zayn says.

“Oh,” Liam says.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Zayn says. “I mean, that’s everything I ever, shit, Liam- but you can’t just.”

“I know,” Liam says.

“Look at me,” Zayn says. Liam turns his face up, looking embarrassed, and Zayn is at such a loss, such a complete loss here. Because he can’t just- it’s a decade of friendship, a fucking decade and two years of pining after Liam and it’s stars and space exploring and books and chocolate and kidneys and postcards to Louis and little hotel rooms and Liam reading pamphlets for him and it’s everything, and he can’t do anything to change it, to jeopardize any of it, because Liam is working through things or confused or because they’re so close it’s hard to see lines. He’d need Liam to mean it, to be all in. They can’t- Zayn can’t- unless it’s solidly real, he just can’t.

“Looking,” Liam says, still flushed.

“I will take those space adventures and sleep with you under our stars no matter what, no matter if we never revisit this conversation or not, right?” Zayn says.

“I know,” Liam says again.

“But the truth, since you know anyway, is that I’m- I’ve been,” Zayn stops and closes his eyes and he needs to say it, because he hasn’t yet, not actually, and they’re right there, tabling all of this. “In love with you for years, and I never expected anything, but I- it has to be real and you have to mean it. I’d need you to mean it, I-”

“I know, I told you it was selfish,” Liam says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Zayn says,

“This isn’t some confused thing, though. It’s not, I know it must sound that way and I know my track record is straight, and all of that, and I know this must seem to you like it’s coming out of nowhere but I think- I- you’re right, and I get what you said, but I’m, I might not know how to do this, but I know I mean it, you know? I do,” Liam says. Zayn bites his lip, he’s never wanted to believe anything so much in his life, and he’s going to absolutely hate himself tomorrow for this, he knows, but it would kill him if they started something they couldn’t finish. Liam couldn’t.

“I know,” Zayn says. Liam frowns.

“But I shouldn’t have said anything until I knew more, until I knew how to say it, until I worked through it all in my head little more. sorry, selfish,” Liam says.

“It’s not,”

“It is. But. Could you like, can I make two more selfish requests?” Liam says. Zayn grins, even though he shouldn’t. Superpowers, though.

“Go for it.”

“Could you kiss me again, just for little while? And then maybe tell me about how you read a book like this once?” Liam asks.

Zayn cannot possibly say no to that.

The Monday they get back, Zayn walks to Louis’ new flat in a panic, a self loathing, horrid, panic. Harry and Louis have just moved in, and Zayn hasn’t seen it yet, and this probably isn’t the best way to see their new place, but he’s in no place to care. Louis and Harry have already had keys made for all of them, so Zayn just walks in, like he would have done at Louis’ mums, and calls, “Lou?” and tries not to sound pathetic.

“Me, actually,” Harry’s voice says. Zayn blinks. Right. They both live here.

“Hi,” Zayn says as Harry comes into the living room.

“Glad your key works,” Harry says.

"Is Lou here?" Zayn asks.

"Meeting," Harry says. "he's got a sponser for his camp, hopefully."

“Sorry, I should have called,” Zayn says. Harry shakes his head.

“Liam has sent me about two dozen frantic texts about he’s apparently destroyed your friendship, so. Sit,” Harry says. Zayn does. He’s actually grateful Harry already knows the story. It saves him a lot of effort.

“He did?” Zayn asks.

“He did. Do you want like, tea? Coffee? Whiskey? Anything?” Harry asks. Zayn shakes his head.

“He didn’t ruin anything,” Zayn says.

“You know, when I first met all of you, I thought you two were together,” Harry says.

“You, why?” Zayn asks, thrown.

“Well, when we went out for coffee I think every story Liam told me was about you, and then that first day? That look you gave me when I said I’d been to coffee with him? That’s probably the meanest look I’ve ever gotten in my life, including the time I was found in my neighbours’ parents’ bed, by their mum,” Harry says.

“Did I? That bad?” Zayn asks, groaning a little.

“You did,” Harry confirms.

“Wait. Your neighbours’ parent’s bed?”

“Yes.”

“Their?”

“They were twins,” Harry says, shrugging.

“That’s not a real story, that’s like, a fucking Skins episode,” Zayn says.

“It is absolutely a real story, we could probably look them up, call them and ask, if you like,” Harry says.

“No thanks,” Zayn says.

“I’m sure they remember,” Harry says. Zayn shakes his head.

“Are you trying to tell me Lou tamed your wild ways?”

“I’m always pretty sure it was mutual,” Harry says.

“I think that’s probably really sweet,” Zayn says. Harry grins.

“It’s desperately romantic, truly. But, You have more important things to worry about at the moment,” Harry says.

“We could talk about you a little more, if you want,” Zayn tries.

“I don’t think you came here to talk about me,” Harry says.

“You really thought we were together?” Zayn asks.

“Right up until Lou dared me to kiss you,” Harry says.

“We weren’t though, aren’t,” Zayn says. Harry bites his lip and looks thoughtful.

“We all talk about you two, you know,” Harry says.

“All here being you, Louis, and Niall?”

“Obviously. Like, I can’t read his mind or predict the future, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and it’s. We talk about it all the time. Niall says if a girl looked at him like that he’d propose. And you’re the one with a crush, but,” Harry says. Zayn closes his eyes.

“Oh,” Zayn says, again.

“Maybe just let him tell you again?” Harry asks.

“I just don’t know what I’d do if it didn’t work, it’s been so long,” Zayn says, and he means everything, he means his crush but also being nine and in nurses’ offices.

“I know,” Harry says. “if it helps- please promise not to murder me if I tell you something?”

“Murder you or murder Louis?” Zayn asks.

“Both?”

“Tell me,” Zayn says.

“There was a time, I mean, years ago, remember how Niall said about not having to kiss you to hang out with everyone? Well there was this other time that it was like, maybe you were asleep or not there for some reason? I guess asleep because I don’t know why you wouldn’t have been there. So you must have been asleep, because I’m sure you were there, it was only a few weeks after I knew all of you and -”

“The point, Harry,” Zayn says, but he’s smiling.

“Right! Okay, so you were, whatever. And Niall brought it up again, and then Liam said you were sleeping, and and Louis said fine, I should kiss both of them, then, and Niall mostly like, licked my mouth. But. Liam. I don’t know what I’m saying, even, but it was a proper kiss, and I know that doesn’t mean anything, but I also think you’re worried because you’re not a girl and I’m just saying, he didn’t not enjoy it, and you’re you, which is better than being me, for Liam,” Harry says.

“No one ever thought to tell me that story?” Zayn asks.

“It was the murder threat,” Harry says.

“What murder threat?” Louis asks, startling Zayn. He honestly hadn't heard Louis come in. “Hello two of my favorite people!”

“Zayn’s. That time you had me and Liam kiss, how was your meeting?" Harry says.

“We agreed never to tell him that!” Louis says, laughing. "but good! It's all very official now."

“Thank you,” Zayn says. "but congratulations."

“I thought it might help,” Harry says. Louis sits and nods. Harry kisses him quickly and whispers something Zayn can't hear but that is probably loving and domestic congratulating of sorts.

“I heard,” Louis says to Zayn. "about Liam."

“Wonderful,” Zayn says. “Great.”

“You have to try, Zayn. You have to,” Louis says.

“I don’t, though,” Zayn says.

“But here’s the thing, if you don’t, won’t you always think maybe you could have? And then you’ll be all self-hating about it? And if you do, even it doesn’t work, you’ll know, and you’ll have gotten to have it for a little, which is always better,” Louis says.

“That’s romantic,” Harry says, beaming at Louis.

“I try,” Louis says.

“But,” Zayn says.

“I’ve also been sending him porn links for years and he once drunkenly told me he watches them,” Louis says, like that’s a thing that matters at all.

“You’ve what?” Zayn asks.

“For you! It was for you! I’m helping!” Louis says. Zayn sighs.

“You thought it would help me to have Liam kiss Harry and watch gay porn?” Zayn asks.

“You hadn’t ever said, the Harry and Liam thing was before! And yes!” Louis says.

“You’re amazing,” Zayn says.

“I know,” Louis says.

“You really do have to try,” Harry says, “just let him tell you again.”

“I just, how can it be real?” Zayn asks.

“Just because you want it, that doesn’t make it unrealistic,” Harry says.

“He makes a very wise point,” Louis says, leaning into kiss Harry softly. Zayn smiles at them.

“Just think about it,” Harry says.

“I have!” Zayn says.

“Think about it without freaking out,” Louis says. Which. That’s incredibly fair.

“I’ll try,” Zayn says. He thinks he means it.

“You live with him, you can’t avoid him,” Louis says.

“I know,” Zayn says.

He manages to avoid Liam for three more days anyway.

Liam sends him a lot of texts in those three days:

It makes the world feel like I can handle it,

and

don’t hate me, I didn’t mean to be selfish

and

I’d read any book you wanted me to, you know

and

Always you and me right?

and

Please talk to me.

That one Zayn finally answers, the night of Harry and Louis’ party, sitting their floor. They’re watching him, Niall too, like some sort of Zayn support group. He takes a breath:

at L&H’s party tonight, we’ll talk. Always you and me

“I wanted it to be not at ours,” Zayn says to the eyes looking at him. Zayn’s phone beeps right away.

I was already on my way over! Are you there? Zayn swallows and texts back,

Yes.

“You okay?” Niall asks.

“Maybe,” Zayn says. Other people will be here any minute, actual guests and not just Zayn and his feelings, and then Harry and Louis have to go host, which is weird and sort of wonderful all at once. Louis and Harry, all domestic and happy. They keep holding hands, and not in that clinging on for dear life way they used to. It’s content now, like they just like the way their hands fit.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Louis says.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Zayn says.

“Just listen to him, you already know what you want,” Harry says.

“You just got go for it,” Niall says.

“You’ll be fine,” Louis says. Zayn stands up off the floor. That’s no way to meet Liam, really. He shakes himself off.

“Right,” he says.

“We love you, both of you, obviously, but you’re the one who was sitting on the floor,” Louis says.

“Yeah, love you,” Niall says.

“Love you,” Harry echoes. Zayn’s heart fees sort of warm. He’s. He’s really okay, like. He’s sort of, this is it, maybe. This is, this is the more? This is three of the most amazing people in the world and they’re this family, and there is Liam and maybe he can actually have more with Liam, and it’s like. That’s the world coming to him, not falling, but shifting into place. A place he can manage.

“And he loves us!” Louis says.

“I do,” Zayn says, and then he finds himself pulled into a giant hug. It’s nice.

Liam shows up ten minutes later, and Zayn can’t put it off, doesn’t want to, so he pulls Liam off towards Harry and Louis’ room and then closes the door behind him,

“I’m sorry I’ve been, not around, that was shit,” Zayn says.

“It was,” Liam agrees.

“I know.”

“I deserved it,” Liam says.

“No, I. Okay, I really need you to, like, tell me again? I need to listen this time and not just freak out,” Zayn says. Liam nods.

“I’ve been thinking a lot in the past few days, about words, and how to say it. I told you I was jealous, but do know I was also always worried one day you and Lou would just announce you were together for real and then that would be that? There was, I mean, in the fall? It’s not important, but I. It’s not about the jealous, or Louis, or even books or space or stars or kidneys- it’s- okay. Okay. When we were nine years old, you asked me about the world being big, and I hadn’t seen the world outside the hospital since I was too young to understand it, but then there was you and then you were, are, always have been, the whole outside world. The world is huge, but all of it is you, has you, is about you, in so many ways. When I think about what I want, when I ever have, all I can ever see is you. I don’t know how to want anything else, and it’s been a decade, a little more, and you and me is- there isn’t anything better than that, nothing could ever even come close. No one could come close. I, shit-” Liam stops and takes a breath and Zayn isn’t even sure how his chest is holding his heart anymore, “I’m so in love with you, Zayn. I just want you.”

“Liam,” Zayn says, sucking in a slow breath.

“I’m in love with you, I love you, I want, can we do do this? If you want then I just want, can we just, be you and me always but with more?” Liam asks.

“That’s all I’ve wanted,” Zayn says. Liam beams.

“Yeah?”

“All I’ve wanted for so long, I think I just, didn’t know how to even begin to process getting it,” Zayn says.

“I, good,” Liam says, stepping closer.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since I was like, twelve,” Zayn says. Liam grins again.

“I think I spent my whole life waiting to like someone as much as i like you, to feel as strongly about someone as I always felt about you, but it was. Never close,” Liam says. And that’s. Everything is. These are, like Liam is echoing Zayn’s own thoughts and feelings back at him and this is happening. This is actually happening.

“It would kill me if-” Zayn starts. Liam closes the gap between them and puts a finger on Zayn’s lips. Zayn shivers.

“Not going anywhere, you and me always, right?”

“Always,” Zayn echoes.

“I love you,” Liam says again, and then he leans down and kisses Zayn, softly and first, and then more, and Zayn’s arms go around him and it’s-

“I love you too,” Zayn says.

He thinks there is a book like this, about a guy who gets everything he ever wanted, but he doesn’t remember how it ended. At the moment, Zayn doesn’t care, because kissing Liam, kissing Liam with the knowledge flowing through him that Liam is in love with him, that this is real, is the most calming thing Zayn has ever known. He couldn’t possibly focus on a single thing but Liam right now, Louis and Harry and everyone could come bursting in and Zayn doesn’t think he’d notice.

It’s a little like seeing from space, pushing Liam against a wall and kissing and kissing until they’re both gasping. Like they could cover the world with their thumbs if they wanted. Maybe that’s it, in the end. The way to manage how fucking huge the world is to to have someone to share it with it.

That and superpowers.

***