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Liam is worried.
Zayn’s being strange. Not in the usual way. Not in the way that he’s the most intriguing person Liam’s even known. He’s being strange for him. Something’s different about the way he’s acting. Off, even.
And yes, Liam’s essentially never not at least a little worried that Zayn might be feeling off. That he isn’t happy enough. That he might finally leave the group.
But even Louis seems to be watching him more closely these days, which means Liam’s worrying more than usual.
Actually, it seems Louis’s never not watching Zayn lately. And yet he’s simultaneously avoiding him, Liam thinks. They never seem to be close to each other anymore. And they’d always been close, those two. Always exchanging some whispered secret or other, in full view of everyone but unheard by anyone else. Always laughing together at jokes Liam assumed no one else would actually find as funny as they did, but he’d never know for sure.
And although Liam has always been glad to see Zayn happy, part of him has always felt a twinge when that happiness is caused by someone else. He’s always tried to chase the feeling away as soon as it surfaces, because he hates himself for feeling it, but he’s never seemed to be able to chase it away for good.
So he’s been keenly aware that Louis and Zayn have barely been within a few feet of each in weeks. That’s how Liam had first noticed the way Louis has been watching Zayn from across rooms. Across every room. It’s how he’s noticed that on the rare occasions they’re near each other now, the space between them is thick with an awkward tension Liam can’t explain.
Did they have a fight? Had Zayn drunkenly (or highly) confessed to Louis that he’s finally going to leave. Is Louis monitoring Zayn for the same reasons Liam always has?
For one of the reasons, anyway?
Liam bats that thought away. Not the time.
He needs to figure out what’s wrong with Zayn. What’s weighing so heavily on him that it’s even affected his normally easy friendship with Louis.
He must be thinking about leaving again. And Liam can’t stop worrying about that.
We need him. He’s one of us. The band need him. The lads need him.
I need him.
Niall is confused.
Something’s up with Zayn and Louis. They’ve always been really good mates. Right from the start they had something special. They all five got along like a house on fire (aside from Louis and Liam at the very start), but Louis and Zayn were the kind of mates that always felt like they shared a secret. Not a shitty secret like they were talking about you behind your back. Just an unspoken understanding. Always smirking. Not even at each other, really, but at the world. They just seem to understand each other in a different way. Their friendship is somehow intense and light-hearted at once. Has been since the beginning.
But something is seriously different now. Not different in the way they’ve always been different, from everyone else. Different from the way they’ve always been.
It’s new, whatever’s up with Louis and Zayn. And Niall can’t figure it out.
And it’s not just Louis and Zayn either, is the thing. Something’s off with Louis and Harry, too. Can’t quite put his finger on that bit, either. And he’s trying.
Always observing, Niall. Always pleased as punch to just be around the other lads, take in everything, the way each pair of them has their own unique bond. He’s always enjoyed watching because they all love each other and they all get on but the specific ways each one of them gets on with each other one is fascinating to Niall. Always has been. It’s not as though his goal has ever been to memorize the specific aspects of each lad’s relationship with each other. He never set out to become an expert on the dynamics between and among them all. But he loves each one on his own and he loves them all as a group so much that he’s always just delighted in their company, in whatever configuration. And that’s meant he’s gotten to know not just each one of his bandmates – his brothers – but the ways they relate to each other.
He’s pretty confident he’s got them all well sorted. Or did do.
But the past few weeks he’s lost the plot.
Something’s off with everyone. It’s like everyone’s most noticeable characteristics are even more obvious than usual. Liam’s been more worried. Mostly about Zayn, but he seems to be trying to figure out Louis as well. Zayn is even quieter than he’s always been, not even whispering away with Louis. Harry is more intense in his staring at Louis than he’s ever been, and that’s really saying something. And his eyes have been flicking to Zayn a lot more too. And Louis’s been alternating between being louder – like X Factor video diaries days loud – and retreating almost entirely into the background.
Something’s made everyone go a little mad, Niall thinks.
And he’s about to join them if he can’t figure out what it is.
Harry is heartbroken.
He doesn’t understand what changed. He doesn’t understand why.
Louis’ attention used to be directed at Harry at essentially all times. Absolutely and without exception when they were in private – or anything resembling it – but often also when they weren’t at all. Even when they were surrounded by strangers, sometimes hundreds or even thousands. Sometimes in very close proximity to those strangers. Sometimes with rolling cameras pointed directly at them.
It didn’t matter the context.
The feeling of Louis’ attention was always present.
Palpable.
Harry had felt it always, from the very beginning, gently tickling his senses or full-on burning his skin, even when he couldn’t see Louis’ face because he’d been forced to turn away to answer a question or pretend to listen to someone else for a moment. Even when he couldn’t feel Louis’ hand, or his thigh, or his foot. He still sensed his eyes on him. Still felt his intention, his focus.
His focus had always been so intense, it was impossible not to feel it as though it were physical.
Now the only thing Harry feels is Louis’ absence, even when he’s right there.
Now they’re never alone if Louis can help it. Louis barely acknowledges Harry is even still here.
The only inkling Harry has that Louis even knows he’s around comes from the feeling of being very specifically avoided.
Harry had never known that absence could feel as powerful as presence.
Louis hasn’t pushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead in weeks. Hasn’t wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders or placed his hand on Harry’s hip. Hasn’t even sat next to him or stood near him. Won’t even look at his face, let alone into his eyes.
Because now he’s looking elsewhere.
Now he watches Zayn.
Like he used to watch me when he thought I wasn’t watching him back.
Now he casually but not at all casually touches Zayn every chance he gets.
Like we used to do – stealing featherlight arm touches and pointed thigh pokes and gentle back rubs when we were surrounded by people but no one could see.
And he reacts to those touches the way he used to only react to mine. He’s affected by Zayn’s glances the way he used to only be affected by mi– my...everything.
Did I do something wrong? I must have. Did I say something wrong? Or not say something I was supposed to say? Something that Zayn knew to say? Knew to do.
Three weeks ago, Harry hadn’t known what to call his feelings for Louis. He’d never known quite how to classify their relationship. He just knew he wanted to be around Louis all the time, knew Louis’ attention felt better than anyone else’s ever had. Felt better than anything else ever had. He just never knew how to name it, never even bothered to think he needed to.
But now he knows. Now that it’s gone.
He loved him.
Loves him.
Is in love with him. With Louis.
And three weeks ago, if he’d have known to call it love, he would have sworn that Louis felt it too.
And Harry doesn’t understand why, but he knows it’s gone.
Louis’s gone.
Zayn and Louis aren't sure what they're doing.
The past few weeks have been very different. He and Louis are different.
Since that day in the woods, getting caught in the rain.
Since their kiss. The first kiss.
There have been more kisses since then. Lots more.
Stolen, single kisses when they only had a few seconds before someone else would be back in the room. Broken by a smile and punctuated by a wink.
Long, lingering kisses in the middle of the night, with walls and locks and hours between them and anyone else.
Hesitant, soft kisses, their chapped lips and cautious tongues attempting to tease out what this all might mean.
Messy, wild kisses as their lips clashed together the second one of them slammed and locked the door to the closest empty room they could find after an endless meeting of sitting next to each other, thighs pressed together, hands achingly close to each other but managing to keep their pinkies to themselves.
Focused, searing kisses that somehow made themselves felt in every corner of their bodies, from toes to elbows to fingertips to eyebrows. Kisses that spread warmth everywhere, even the places they didn’t dare touch, heated by the fire of desperation and surprise and maybe even a little panic.
Kissing was all their lips had seemed to be good for since that day. They’d barely spoken, their communication limited to longing stares and fleeting eye contact and nothing in between.
When they were with the others, it didn’t feel safe to speak to each other. What if they gave something away?
When they were alone, the air felt so charged and terrifying that words couldn’t possibly be enough. And what was there even to say?
Kissing was safe. It didn’t require explanation or examination. It felt like both an exploration and an answer.
They never talked about what had happened that day in the woods. Why it had happened. How they felt about it. What it meant.
They never talked about what was happening between them.
So it had kept happening, both of them clearly enjoying it. Neither of them ever giving any indication that they wanted to stop, or even pause. Neither of them seeming to question for even a moment whether they possibly should pause, for their own sakes or the band’s sake, to figure out what they were actually doing.
They’ve never talked about it. So Zayn has no idea what Louis might be thinking about it. Or what it might mean.
But he’s starting to wonder.
Liam’s still concerned.
Everything is still so strange.
Niall’s still baffled.
It’s been a month and he still can’t put a finger on what exactly is up with everyone. And no one’s talking about it.
Harry is still devastated.
He doesn’t see how he’ll ever not be, not with things as they are. He still doesn’t understand what happened. What he did. He has to find Louis. He has to know.
Louis and Zayn are alone again.
It’s the first time in a few days that it’s just them in a room.
And for the first time in the past month – for the first time since their soaking wet kiss under a tin roof in the middle of the woods – being alone together feels awkward.
For the first time in a month, they aren’t on each other within seconds of being alone, pressing their lips together before either could be bothered to try to use them for something as useless as talking.
They’re still not talking – almost like they’ve completely forgotten how to when it’s just the two of them, preoccupied as they’ve been lately with other activities – but they’re not kissing either. Not even walking towards each other with the obvious intention to.
They’re just standing in silence, thick with uncertainty, the room empty of other people but crowded with all the questions and confessions neither has been able to say to the other despite the hours and hours’ worth of opportunities they’ve had.
It’s painfully awkward.
Maybe the first awkward moment that’s ever passed between them.
And Louis thinks he should hate that it’s awkward. But he finds that he’s a little grateful instead.
Relieved, even.
Because he thinks there’s no way they can chase this awkwardness off with a kiss.
They’re going to have to talk.
And much as Louis has been just as willing as Zayn to avoid doing exactly that for weeks now, he knows it’s time.
He’s realized these past few days, when he and Zayn haven’t been able to be alone together and so haven’t been able to continue their new (and admittedly very satisfying) habit of immediately locking their mouths together and not letting go until absolutely necessary, that they need to finally talk about what they’ve been doing.
And what it’s all meant.
Louis doesn’t know whether Zayn is thinking the same thing right now, but he takes his unbreaking eye contact as a sign that he might be. So Louis inhales a breath he hopes is deep and long enough to give him the strength to actually say aloud what he’s been screaming at himself to say for days now.
“This is fucking weird, Z.”
Maybe not what he’d hoped would come out first, but it’s enough to make Zayn huff a laugh, which is enough to break the tension, which is enough for a start.
“Which part, mate? The part where we’re not kissing right now? Or the part that it’s strange that we’re not kissing right now? Or the part where we haven’t kissed in a few days and that in itself is weird as of late?”
Louis laughs and notices his shoulders relax. He hadn’t even realized they’d been tense, but they fall a solid few inches as he exhales.
“Fucking all of it.”
Zayn laughs more fully. “It well and truly is, Lou. But weird as it is, I think I’m actually relieved like, you know?”
Louis does know.
He really does.
“Me too,” he says.
“Really fucking relieved, I think.”
“Me too,” Louis repeats. Doubly relieved that he and Zayn seem to be on the same page.
Suddenly, they both seem to know exactly what to say, talking over each other in their rush to assure each other their relief has nothing to do with not having enjoyed the past few weeks, that neither feels anything like regret. Their overlapping assurances are punctuated with apologetic laughter and playful eyerolls and Louis thinks maybe this won’t be that hard after all, talking about what it all means.
He goes first, telling Zayn he’s been thinking a lot about what they’ve been doing, how things have changed since their first kiss, especially these past few days as they’ve been kind of avoiding each other. Because, yes, he insists, despite Zayn not disagreeing, they may not have realized it, but that’s what they’ve been doing.
Louis confides to Zayn that his immediate reaction to Zayn kissing him that first time was relief, an immediate surge of relief that had all but overwhelmed him. Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up with surprise as Louis hurries to explain as best he can that he hadn’t understood the cause of the relief at first. It had taken a lot more kissing Zayn to realize that it hadn’t actually been about Zayn at all. And Zayn, bless him, doesn’t even joke about being offended to hear that. He just keeps listening.
He listens openly and attentively as Louis unloads every one of the jumbled thoughts he’s been painstakingly unraveling and attempting to piece together in hopes they’d spell out an actual realization. And they had.
His relief at being kissed by Zayn, and liking it – really liking it – that first time and all the times since, was at the confirmation that he wanted to be kissed by boys.
He wants to kiss boys.
Zayn’s the only boy he’s ever kissed, but even that very first one had felt more right than any kiss Louis had ever shared with a girl. Even the girl he thought he’d maybe loved.
And that kiss – one he’d not even been expecting, let alone pining after – feeling so right, helped simplify a lot of other feelings that had been swirling around inside Louis for a very long time.
And the more he kissed Zayn, the more sure he’d become.
He wants to kiss Harry.
He’d always wondered if his feelings for Harry were just about Harry. They are about Harry, obviously, but they’re more than that. He doesn’t just like this particular boy.
He likes boys.
Instead of girls.
It’s why Hannah, for as lovely as she was, was never quite everything Louis had always thought first love was supposed to be.
It’s why he’s always been so drawn to Harry in a way he’d never quite understood because it wasn’t quite like anything he’d ever felt before. Not because he and Harry were best mates. They were. They are. But they’re something else too.
He’s never just been drawn to Harry as a really good mate.
He wants him.
Has always wanted him.
And now he knows exactly what that want looks like. What it means.
He doesn’t just want to be near Harry, doesn’t just want to touch his shoulder and his back and his sides and his curls. He wants to touch every part of him. He wants them to feel every part of each other.
He doesn’t just want to whisper in his ear so close that his lips happen to occasionally brush Harry’s skin. He wants to kiss and nibble and bite at his ear and his neck and his jaw and his lips. Those pink, lush lips. He doesn’t just want to watch Harry bite his bottom lip as he stares back at Louis. He wants to bite that bottom lip himself, suck it into his mouth like he and Zayn have practiced.
He wants to do everything with Harry.
Wants everything with him.
And now he has a taste of what it might feel like to get it.
Louis had been so nervous about how Zayn would react to all of this. He’s been so afraid Zayn would feel like Louis’s been using him all these weeks.
And Zayn being quiet this whole time, letting Louis spill the contents of his heart into the space surrounding them, has done nothing to squash that concern.
“Fuck, Lou.”
Louis inhales a shaky breath, ready but not at all prepared for what might come next out of Zayn’s mouth. A mouth Louis has become intimately familiar with and yet has no hope of guessing what it might say in the wake of his confession.
“That’s a lot, yeah?”
A tiny laugh escapes Louis, but it does nothing to relieve the pressure building in his chest.
Zayn closes the space between them and reaches out to lift Louis’ chin with his finger, prompting Louis to meet the gaze he hadn’t noticed he’d been avoiding. Louis wants to cry when he sees the warmth filling his friend’s eyes.
“You’re alright, Lou,” Zayn whispers. “You look terrified, and there’s no need.”
Louis shudders and feels his eyes brim with tears as Zayn continues.
“I know you love Harry. We all know. How could we not?”
“What?” Louis squeaks, although he knows they’ve never been exactly subtle about how drawn to each other they are.
Zayn laughs. “Louis, please. You two are mad for each other.”
Louis’ instinct is to protest, but he stops himself, determined to offer the same supportive silence to Zayn that he’d given him just minutes ago. So instead he offers a shrug and a sniffly laugh in response before nodding at Zayn to continue.
“I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days too, you know? And I don’t think I’d quite got all the pieces together until you were just telling me all about what you’d realized, but I think I might’ve got it now.”
“Oh?” Louis asks, feeling Zayn might need a bit more prompting than he’d needed if he’s only just now come to figure something out.
“Aye yeah,” Zayn replies. “When I kissed you that day in the woods, it was definitely about you, Louis. Felt pulled to you, standing there under that shelter, surrounded by chaos when it felt so still just between us.”
Louis swallows hard, not at all sure where Zayn is going.
“But,” Zayn says, instantly releasing some of the tension wrapped around Louis’ heart, “I think maybe at least part of what made me want you is that I’ve seen for a long time now how you look at someone that you want. It’s intense, mate. Never seen anyone look at anyone else the way you look at Harry. And I think I wanted to just, like, be on the receiving side of that. To feel what it might be like. Think I was...intrigued by it, like. D’you know what I mean?”
Louis thinks he might. Or at least, he can understand what Zayn’s saying.
“You’ve just both been so open about it from the start. I think, especially because I’ve always been so shy, so inside my own head all the time, the idea of someone just so clearly wanting someone, like leaving no room at all for questions, seemed just really nice.”
“I get that, Z, yeah. I think I get it.”
“I definitely didn’t know that’s why I wanted to kiss you that day, mind. In that moment, with adrenaline pumping and the relief of finding shelter, and you were there and we’ve always been so close too so it just felt safe but also a little dangerous still. So I just went for it, like. Honestly, I don’t even remember deciding to kiss you. Just did it.”
Louis laughs softly. “I don’t really remember realizing you were about to, either. But I certainly didn’t pull away, did I?”
Zayn laughs and shakes his head.
“Nah, and you haven’t since then either, mate.”
He’s not wrong, and Louis doesn’t regret one moment of it. He tells Zayn that and Zayn smiles and tells him the same as he pulls him into a solid hug.
Louis has no idea how long they hold each other, firmly but calmly, as their breathing steadies and their heart rates slow. But it’s long enough that the light rap on the door doesn’t startle either of them.
“Come in,” he and Zayn call in unison, neither letting go.
“O-oh, sorry, I didn’t know...um, you’re busy, nevermind. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Harry stutters, causing Zayn and Louis to finally let each other go and both turn towards the poor, flustered boy.
Harry’s backing out of the room, starting to pull the door closed, his eyes glued to the floor, when Zayn flashes Louis a warm smile and squeezes his shoulder before turning to walk towards the door.
“You’re not interrupting,” Zayn tells him, grabbing the doorknob on the other side of the door and pulling it back open. Harry lifts his face to meet Zayn’s. “Come on in,” Zayn says, “he’s all yours. I’ll see you boys later.” He shoots a subtle wink at Louis as he pulls the door shut behind him, leaving Harry standing at the edge of the room.
He looks stunned, his cheeks flushed a bright red. His bottom lip looks plush, like he’s been worrying it with his teeth or his fingers, maybe both. And his jaw is a little slack, like he expected anything but to find Louis and Zayn embracing. Poor thing looks like he wants to flee but can’t move his legs, so he just stares helplessly as Louis, apologetic and properly fucking nervous.
Louis’ heart clenches and a flash of warmth courses through him at the sight of his boy.
“I--I obviously did interrupt. I’m really sorry, Lou. I’ll just–”
“Hazza, no, please. Wait.”
Harry jerks his head up at that, his eyes going wide and a bit wild as Louis walks over to him. He still looks so sad and Louis can’t take it.
As soon as Louis reaches him, he grabs one of Harry’s hands and intertwines their fingers, trying to make clear how much he doesn’t want Harry to leave. Harry squeezes Louis’ hand, as if by instinct, and Louis brings his other up to Harry’s face, gently pushing his curls back.
Louis cups Harry’s jaw and leans in slowly. Harry inhales suddenly, his eyes flicking down to Louis’ lips just as his own part almost imperceptibly the moment before Louis captures them in a soft, quick kiss.
“Come sit down,” Louis whispers into Harry’s lips as he pulls away just enough to get the words out. “I have some things I want to tell you.”
Liam is relieved.
Zayn seems happier than he has in a long time. Or maybe not happier, but more settled at least. More at peace.
And he and Liam have been spending more time together, just the two of them. So Liam’s felt a kind of peace as well.
And it’s emboldened Liam, feeling this way. He’s been letting himself consider his feelings for Zayn more. He’s still a bit scared of them, but not so scared that he won’t let his thoughts wander a bit when they’re brave enough to start.
And every time Zayn holds his gaze for longer than a few seconds, every time he offers a shy smile or a hint of a smirk while he does, Liam’s thoughts venture a little further than they have before.
Every time Zayn wraps an arm around Liam’s shoulders or softly rubs a hand on Liam’s back while they’re standing side by side, the warmth Liam feels in response becomes more urgent. But somehow more familiar, too, like it’s a fire and protection all at once.
And if the way Zayn’s been looking at Liam lately is any indication, he’s been letting his thoughts wander as well. Maybe even meeting up with Liam’s somewhere, strolling along together, holding hands and meandering slowly, waiting for them to catch up.
Zayn was right.
He’d wanted someone to want him like Louis had always wanted Harry.
But he was wrong too. Because he hadn’t just wanted someone to want him.
He’d wanted Liam to.
And he’d been too blind, or just scared maybe, to see that Liam did. He maybe always had.
Zayn had always interpreted Liam’s concern for him as something like parental worry.
Liam probably had too.
Maybe that’s why it had taken Zayn so long to see it for what it actually was.
Desire.
Because Liam’s desire hadn’t looked like Louis’ had.
But it was just as strong. Just as magnetic.
Exactly what Zayn had needed.
Niall is elated.
Everything seems to be alright again
Louis and Harry are more obvious than ever. Zayn seems more content. He still has his slight air of mystery – it wouldn’t be normal if he didn’t – but he seems more at ease than he has in a while. Maybe than he ever has. He and Louis are back to their old ways, too, being the cooler-than-everyone-but-not-in-an-asshole-way pair, with maybe a bit more of a secret between them now, but one that feels light rather than ominous. Even Liam seems less worried than usual. Less like the weight of the band, if not the world, is on his shoulders.
His lads are back, thank God. He still doesn’t know where they’d gone, but he doesn’t much care. He just wants them happy. And they seem to be.
Harry’s heart is better than it’s ever been.
Louis’s got hold of it.
Louis’s never going to let it go.