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“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind—”
“Stop, Liam!” Niall says with annoyed laughter as he turns on the lights to their living room and hooks his keys next to the door, then takes off his hat and gloves. “I’ve heard it enough for one day. Fuck’s sake, I’ve sung it enough for a lifetime now.”
Liam just ignores him and continues taking off his own various layers of clothing—gloves, scarf, jacket—all while keeping the tune going—“Oh, it’s a classic, I can’t stop, it’s too stuck in my mind!”—which succeeds in making Louis laugh as he turns the corner and throws himself on the couch, not having bothered to even remove his jacket, but doesn’t appease Niall, who’s "heard that excuse every year we’ve been friends," so before the New Year starts with murder, Niall prefers to head to the kitchen.
The singing predictably continues as Liam continues removing clothes, with the addition of popcorn hitting the pot as an off beat percussion, almost expressing Niall’s patience wearing just a little thinner with each pop and each note. Still, Liam carries on, ever the showman, going through all the verses for at least the fifth time today.
“You’re doing this on purpose, you are,” Louis smirks, sprawled on the couch, looking up at Liam ignoring him as he keeps singing, though not without getting a confirming wink. It's not that usual for Liam to be the one teasing, at least in comparison. Louis definitely approves.
Liam’s about to hit the last chorus just as Niall’s steps can be heard coming back, so Louis takes a chance before it’s too late. “We’ll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne! ” he soon joins, with his booming, stadium-appropriate voice reaching the other apartments, considering the sudden barking, but not caring in the least.
“Why do I even like you two?” Niall shakes his head—Liam and Louis giggle and high-five next to him—and settles on his corner of the couch, grabbing the remote and opening Netflix.
It’s a while before Liam notices but then he quickly sobers up, arousing Louis' curiosity. He's staring in confusion when Liam asks, almost nervous, “Niall, why are you looking for Hichcock?”
Niall, huge bowl of sweet, caramel-covered, yellowy popcorn waiting on his lap, flicks a pair in the air and catches them with his mouth. Louis waves at him and Niall flicks one piece towards him, which Louis barely catches. They need to work on long-range aim. “You know what happens when you sing Auld Lang Syne in this house,” Niall says while he chews.
Liam pouts and leans away from Niall, as if chastised and wanting comfort from Louis—who does get hit in the eye with popcorn this time—but he still puts his feet up, toes under Niall’s thigh, and he still grabs a handful of popcorn. Psycho starts then.
The evening winds down quickly as they watch the screen, sitting bunched together, three arms in constant, though sluggish, motion reaching for the bowl. It’s all pretty mild—even if it’s technically the agreed ‘punishment’ for over-singing a song, they’ve seen Psycho so many times already, it’s hardly scary by now, Liam assures Louis, almost begging for something scarier—but they get engrossed in the movie anyway. Louis can see, from the corner of his eye, Niall’s lips thin when Liam startles right at the point Norman’s mother runs out the room to the stairs just a beat before one thinks she will. Louis and Niall share a quick look, and Niall winks at him before returning his eyes to the screen and grabbing another mouthful of popcorn. Louis has to bite his lip; it seems the day brings a certain atmosphere in them, something he will definitely keep in mind.
Much as he loved watching their Annual Carolling of the Holidays, though, he didn't realise how tired they were until they’re finally laying there, with their bodies too heavy to even want to try to move beyond the most necessary. Louis wouldn't mind getting used to it, though, especially with the warmth they’re sharing.
By the time the credits roll and they glance at the clock, it’s not far from midnight, which spurs Louis to valiantly get up first, not wanting to lose the moment. He hunts through his bag before rushing to the kitchen, the other two glancing curiously.
“Alright, alright, come here and turn off every light. Come on, quick!” Louis shouts and Niall and Liam, though visibly whiplashed at the sudden change in pace, get up and follow. There’s hints of the nearby parties, of everyone celebrating the end of the year, making it all the way through the walls and windows, and they’ll soon be joining in themselves, but for now they’re standing in their small apartment, as dark as they could make it, forming in a small triangle in front of the sink, quietly, almost in ceremony.
“So, I know you have your own traditions for tonight but I need you to do this for me,” Louis murmurs. He hands each a sparkler and carefully lights them; the sparks leave traces in the shadows, painting the room, not to mention their faces of surprise.
"It's been so long since I've had one in my hands," Niall says, immediately drawing figures in the air.
“We tend to grow out of them, don't we," Liam says, smiling as they make weird shapes and watch the sparks fly.
"Lighting sparklers with my sisters has always been my favourite part of New Year’s, you know, watching them play and make up all sorts with these.” Louis makes blue circles of his own, gone in seconds. "I still can’t believe I can't be there tonight, and I’ll see them soon enough, but I don’t want to lose this. And they were fine about you two joining in, though they said if you don’t bring a whole box next year, you’re staying outside.”
Niall and Liam smile warmly, their grips tightening on the sticks, but Louis doesn’t notice, too lost in the lights, his eyes bright with their reflection.
They spend the last minutes of the year playing with different coloured sparklers, drawing whatever comes to their mind, making up magic before they remember life’s mundane again. The shouting and barking and cheering as the clocks hits twelve takes them by surprise but if there’s one tradition even they keep is a proper midnight snog. It’s almost a contradiction that the small fires in their hands go out just in time.