Archive of Our Own

The house is nothing special, honestly.

If anything it is the opposite of special; mundane and run down, paint peeling and front door squeaking as Louis pushes it open. He turns to find his mum scrunching up her nose at the noise. He laughs.

“It’s probably not too late to get you into the student halls,” she says.

“Nah,” Louis says, dragging two of his three suitcases over the threshold with a bump. “I like it. It has character.” And probably mold, but Louis keeps that part to himself.

His mum raises her eyebrows, letting Louis know that she heard “character” as “cheap,” which is what Louis really meant, anyway. He knows they can afford for him to be up in the dorms, but he also knows that babies are expensive and his mum and Dan just had two of them. Louis’ been sacrificing things for his family almost his entire life (usually more than happily); living here instead of in a dorm is nothing. It’s still technically university housing, it’s just farther from campus and not nearly as fancy and much less expensive. Besides, he grew up with four little sisters running around and screaming, he thinks he can handle four uni-aged lads. He’s looking forward to it, really.

His mum follows him into the house, the third suitcase rolling in behind her.

The inside is slightly nicer than the outside, which Louis is grateful for. The door opens straight into a hallway. There are some shoes lined up by the door and coats on the hooks that are bolted to the wall.

“Looks like someone is already here,” his mum says. “Should get you all a mat to wipe your feet or you’ll destroy the hardwood.”

“Don’t think it needs any help from us,” Louis mutters.

“A shoe rack, probably, as well,” his mum goes on. “Not that you all ever use it back at home but it still might be nice to have. We can probably order you one off of...”

“Mum,” Louis interrupts her. “Could we maybe get to my bedroom before you redo the entire place?”

“I suppose,” she relents. They continue down the hall together. “I just want you to feel at home here.”

“I know,” Louis says. He turns and gives her a smile over his shoulder. They pass by the doorway to the kitchen on their right. He faces forward again and says loudly, “Bedroom first, don’t even look in there.” Behind him, his mum laughs, which is exactly what Louis had wanted.

The bathroom is on the left side of the hallway, across from the kitchen. It looks like it’s been recently redone, the shine of the porcelain toilet not quite completely dimmed and the mirror free of cracks. His mum makes a pleased noise as they pass it. Louis rolls his eyes and smiles to himself.

The hallway opens out into a living area. There’s two sofas and a chair provided by the university already set up. They look unbelievably uncomfortable and Louis spares a wince for his lower back already.

The three bedrooms are all off the living area, two the left and one to the right. The first door has a single tag on it that says “Harry S.” The door beside it has two tags on it, one that says, “Zayn M” and another that says “Niall H.” The door on the other side of the room also has two tags, a “Liam P” and…

“Ah, here we are,” Louis says. He pulls out the keys he’d been given when he checked in on the main campus. He’s just about to put them in the lock when he hears laughter come from inside the room. He looks back at his mum, who shrugs, before pushing down on the handle and opening the unlocked door.

The room is a decent size -- longer than it is wide -- but enough space for the two beds, desks, dressers, and free standing closets that the university supplies. Barely. The door just nearly misses scraping the desk that’s been set up against the left hand wall behind the door.

“Hey, mate,” a blond guy with an Irish accent greets. He’s sprawled out on the bed that’s been pushed up against the right hand wall, opposite from the desk. He’s got a guitar balanced across his knees, fingers pressed lightly to the strings.

There’s a boy sitting beside him on the bed, as well. He has short brown hair and big brown eyes. He’s got a black snapback turned sideways on his head as well. Louis must have missed an email about housemate dress code.

“Hey,” Louis greets back. “I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

“‘m Niall. Niall Horan,” the blond guy says. “This is Liam Payne, your roommate!”

“And I’m Johannah, Louis’ mum,” she says, pushing her way into the room behind Louis. Louis rolls his eyes but moves further inside, long since impervious to being embarrassed by his mother.

“Nice to meet you,” Liam speaks for the first time. He looks at Louis when he says, “I left you the bed closest to the window. I hope that’s alright. We can trade if it isn’t.”

“No, that’s excellent,” Louis says. “Might move the desk a bit, though, so I don’t get hit by the door whenever I sit at it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Liam says. “I left everything mostly where it was, but we can move it around if you’d like.”

Louis shrugs. “I’m good with it if you are.”

His mum helps him unpack two suitcases of stuff before Louis decides it’s time for her to leave. Niall and Liam had gone out to the living area not long after Louis and his mum had started bickering over the best way to get all of his clothes to fit in the limited number of drawers he had.

“It’s getting late.” Louis broaches the topic gently, not wanting to kick his mum out, necessarily.

She gives him a fond and exasperated look. “Alright, I know when I’m not wanted.”

“It’s not that.”

“I know that, too,” she says. She holds open her arms. “Come here, then. Give your mum a hug.”

Louis steps into her embrace easily.

He walks her to the door and sees her out after a few more hugs and misty eyes. He doesn’t cry, but he kind of wants to. This will be the first time he’s away from her for more than a weekend since his dad left them years ago.

Liam and Niall are still spilled out on the sofa when Louis comes back inside.

“Pay up, Payno,” Niall cheers. “Not a single tear in sight.”

“What?” Louis asks.

“Niall bet that you wouldn’t cry when you said goodbye to your mum,” Liam explains.

“And you bet that I would?” Louis demands.

Liam, at least, has the decency to look embarrassed. “You just seemed really close. Besides, it’s totally normal to be sad when your mum leaves you at uni.”

“You’re just saying that because you cried for nearly an hour when your family left,” Niall says. Liam turns a half-hearted glare on him. Niall just shrugs. “Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Me mum and I made enough of a scene at the airport. It’s probably on Youtube or something. Lots of sobbing.”

Louis sits down on the other couch, all motivation for unpacking gone with his mother. “Do we have beer in this house yet or do we need to do a run?”

“Did you miss the part where I’m Irish?” Niall asks, getting to his feet. He disappears into the kitchen and returns with two six packs of Guinness. “Made a stop before I unpacked a single shirt.”

“I have a feeling you and I are going to get along,” Louis says. He reaches out and takes a bottle from Niall’s hand. Liam takes one as well.

“To new housemates,” Niall holds up his bottle. Louis and Liam both clink their beers against his and they start drinking.

They’re halfway through the second of the six-packs when Harry and then Zayn show up at the house a minute or so apart. At least, that’s who Louis thinks they are. He figures it’s them based on the suitcases they’ve got behind them.

“There better be more of that,” one of them says. He has glasses on and a tall quiff fluffed up on his head. He’s easily the most stupidly attractive person Louis has ever seen.

“Already got the fridge stocked,” Niall tells him. “I’m Niall. This is Liam. That’s Louis.”

“I’m Zayn,” the boy answers. He adjusts his backpack on his shoulder and Louis catches a flash of a tattoo. That bears more investigating. He and Liam had compared ink somewhere around beer number three.

“I’m Harry,” the other boy says. He has curly hair that flops a bit into his face. “Harry Styles.” Louis doesn’t just get a flash of his tattoos, he gets a peep show. Apparently Harry Styles never learned how to button a shirt. “If you guys don’t mind helping, I brought a TV with me for us to use?”

“Sick!” Liam says, jumping up to go help. “Louis brought a Playstation and I have a Gamecube.”

“I have a Wii,” Zayn adds in.

“Beer and FIFA,” Niall says. “Sounds like a great night.”

“Boys,” Louis says, holding his beer up in a salute. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Niall says.

Louis rolls his eyes and says, “As we’ve learned in the past two hours, there isn’t much you won’t drink to.”

Everyone laughs and something warm settles in Louis’ chest. He can get used to this. He can definitely get used to this.

It’s fucking loud and Louis loves it. The music is filling the house and wherever there isn’t music there are people. Drunk people. Louis loves drunk people.

Well, drunk Louis likes drunk people. Sober Louis is going to hate everything about this tomorrow morning.

“Zayn!” Louis shouts to be heard over the music. Zayn is standing at his makeshift DJ table, big headphones around his neck. Louis slides in beside him, wrapping a hand around Zayn’s waist. “This music is ace, bro!”

“Thanks, bro,” Zayn says, leaning into Louis’ touch. “Liam remixed this one for me. Sick, innit?”

Zayn looks excellent tonight. Not that Zayn ever looks bad, but. He got a new haircut when they were in London last weekend and it looks awesome, the sides of his head shaved with the hair in the middle longer and flopping over to one side. He’s wearing an MTV jumper that he cut the sleeves off. (“Do that to Liam’s shirts, too,” Harry had said when he found Zayn with the scissors.) Louis’ likes that Zayn doesn’t hide away in his room during their parties as much as he used to. He, probably more than anyone (except maybe Liam), gets what it’s like to need your own space for a few minutes. Zayn needs more space than the rest of them, but Louis thinks they’re good for him, too, making him come out of his shell. He makes a killer DJ, as well.

“Sick,” Louis agrees easily. “Where’s your drink? Why aren’t you drinking? Let’s do some shots.”

Zayn laughs. “Niall just went to get me something to drink, don’t worry. I’m sure Harry will do shots with you. Body shots, if you ask nicely.”

“Don’t even have to ask nicely,” Louis sways closer so he can lower his voice. “Harry loves body shots almost as much as he hates wearing clothes in overcrowded house parties.”

“Tommo!” Niall reappears before Zayn can respond. He’s holding two cups and has an Irish flag tied around his shoulders. “Sorry, mate, didn’t know you were over here, would have brought you more to drink.”

Niall’s wearing one of his approximately two hundred snapbacks with a white t-shirt. His roots are starting to show just under his cap and Louis spares a thought for the bleach supply they have stored under their bathroom sink. He or Zayn will have to help Niall redo his hair sometime this week. Louis has become something of an expert in dying Niall’s roots in the last year. He’s less picky about it now, but six months ago he wouldn’t let the brown show for a day before dragging Louis into the bathroom to fix it. Now, he lets it grow out a bit before asking for someone to help him do it again. He’d considered going brunette again for a while, but figured the blond suited him better. Honestly, Louis thought he’d look great with whatever color hair. (Including lavender. They’d done that one time when they’d gotten a bit too drunk. It had been sweet but Marua had freaked out so they’d dyed it back.)

“That’s alright.” Louis waves him off. “Might go do some shots with Harold.”

Niall nods, handing a cup to Zayn and the wrapping his free arm around Zayn’s waist, overlapping it with Louis’. “He was in the kitchen last I saw, taking his shirt off and yelling about body shots.”

Over the rim of his cup, Zayn gives Louis an I told you so look. Louis returns it with one of his own. He was right, too.

He squeezes at Niall’s elbow and scratches gently at Zayn’s hip before stepping away. He makes his way through the crowd until he gets to the kitchen. Harry is stretched out on their table, shirt wide open and lime in his mouth. Liam is standing behind the table, arms crossed and rolling his eyes at whatever Harry is saying.

“Got any tequila left?” Louis asks loudly. The music is still pumping, even in here. Louis is grateful (and not for the first time) that they live in a house and not the dorms, far away from people who will complain about the noise. “Thought maybe I’d have a go.”

Harry takes the lime out of his mouth to say, “We always have enough tequila left for body shots. Get some salt on me, sweet cheeks.”

“How much has he had to drink?” Louis asks Liam even as he reaches for the salt.

“Probably too much.” Liam shrugs. “It’s Zayn’s turn to deal with him.”

“And yet here you are,” Louis points out. “Babysitting him while he does body shots.”

“I’m fine staying with him while the alcohol goes inside of him,” Liam says. “The minute it starts coming out, he’s all Zayn’s.”

They’ve all changed in the last year of living together, but none of them as much as Liam. If this was a year ago, he would have insisted on taking care of Harry, would have tried to cut him off an hour ago. Now, he lets them do what they want and he does what he wants. It’s been a give and take, really. They’ve lost their chaperone, but gained a Liam who isn’t afraid to step outside his comfort zone. Louis thinks it’s a fair trade.

Harry’s different, too, but it’s less obvious than Liam. He’s embraced his long limbs and weird personality and he’s grown into this person who both fascinates and annoys the hell out of Louis. The most obvious change is his hair; long, curly and effortless in a way Louis’ hair never was when he grew it long. Louis hates him a bit for that. But he loves him for everything else, so he guesses that’s a fair trade, too.

Louis licks just above the line of Harry’s jeans, making Harry giggle a bit and kick out his legs.

“Feeling frisky, Lou?” Harry asks. He’s grinning when Louis looks up at him. Louis rolls his eyes and holds out a hand for the shot that Liam’s poured.

“Gonna hold still, yeah?” Louis asks, placing the shot glass just above Harry’s belly button but not letting it go. “I’m serious, Haz. I was sticky for a week the last time we did this because you kept laughing like an idiot.”

Harry laughs (like an idiot), then takes a deep breath and stills himself. “I won’t spill it this time, promise.”

Louis rolls his eyes and lets go of the glass, letting it balance precariously on the faint outline of Harry’s abs. He grabs the salt and spills it out over where he had just licked and nudges at Harry’s hand until he puts the lime back in his mouth.

He locks eyes with Liam’s when he finally bends over to lick the salt up off of Harry’s abdomen, looking away only when he tips his head back to take the shot. He lets his eyes find Liam’s again and he sucks the lime from Harry’s mouth, giving Liam a lime smile, before reaching over Harry and pulling Liam in to transfer the lime wedge between their mouths.

“Thanks, lads,” Louis says, giving Liam a wink. Liam takes the wedge of his mouth and eyes Louis almost carefully. Louis lets his grin grow to something predatory. He loves when Liam gets like this.

“Oooh, can we have a go?” a girl asks from behind Louis.

“Absolutely,” Harry says. He reaches up to push at Louis’ hip and make him get out of the way. “Liam, pour these girls some shots.”

“Got to use the loo,” Liam says, his eyes on Louis. Louis blinks at him. “Here’s the tequila, though.” He comes around the table to hand the bottle to the girls. He grabs Louis’ wrist and drags him out of the kitchen and into the (surprisingly) empty bathroom.

Liam closes the door and pushes Louis up against it, pressing their mouths together almost frantically and oh, fuck yes, this is what Louis’ been looking for all night.

Louis bites at Liam’s lower lip until he opens his mouth on a gasp, letting Louis tongue inside. Liam tastes like tequila and rum and coke. He’s delicious and Louis can’t get enough. Liam presses him back harder and Louis lets out a groan as Liam’s thigh presses in between his. Liam swallows the moan Louis lets out when Liam gets his wrists into one hand and pins them above the door. The other boys don’t manhandle Louis like this (even though Harry could if he wanted to) and usually Louis likes to be the one doing the manhandling, but tonight he just wants to let Liam pin him to a solid surface.

“Fuck, you have no idea how you looked licking salt off his hips,” Liam says breathlessly as Louis tugs a bit at where his hands are being held. “Stop moving, you arse.”

“Let me go, then,” Louis says, but he doesn’t mean it. Liam lowers his eyebrows at him, knows Louis doesn’t mean it either, and dives right back into snogging him.

They’ve fallen into a really good rhythm of tongues against lips and teeth when there’s a knock on the door.

“Get out!” Zayn’s voice comes through the door. “You have a room and I have a Harry who is about to puke all over our front hall.”

Liam and Louis pull apart, panting out laughter. Louis reaches behind him and puts his hand on the doorknob, giving Liam a wicked grin and saying, “We’ll finish this later, yeah?” as he twists it.

“Later, yeah,” Liam agrees, swooping in to give Louis one last quick kiss before he’s stepping back enough for Louis to open the door.

“Thank fuck,” Zayn says, brushing past them as soon as the door is open enough for him to drag Harry inside. They collapse near the toilet, Harry already moaning miserably and Louis would stay and help, but it was his turn last week and that’s more than enough for him. He and Liam escape back into the party.

The kissing thing happened a few months after they all moved in together. Like most of their terrible ideas, it started with Niall and Louis.

They were drunk one night and Niall was whining about how all he wanted to do when he was drinking was find someone fit to snog. Louis had looked around the room and spread his arms going, “take your pick then, mate.” It had launched them all into an hour-long discussion about sexuality and identity (“Sexuality is fluid,” Harry kept repeating, zenlike.), and had ended in Louis and Niall snogging on the couch while the others cheered and wolf-whistled.

It became sort of a thing after that. It wasn’t something that ever happened when they were sober, but it was something that happened pretty much every time they weren’t. Louis learned the joys of shotgunning from Zayn (made better by the actual making out once they’d exchanged smoke) and body shots from Harry and being pushed up against walls from Liam and laughing while kissing from Niall. It was just nice having someone to kiss at the end of the night until you were tired enough to pass out in bed or horny enough to go get off in the shower. It was a win/win… win/win/win. They were all winning in this situation.

Liam is already in bed with the lights out by the time Louis finishes tucking Zayn into bed with Harry. (“At least he doesn’t kick,” Zayn had said pointedly when Louis laughed at the way Harry flopped all over Zayn, kissing at his neck sloppily.)

“Hey,” Louis says. He stands beside Liam’s bed and pokes at his shoulder. “Liam, you said we could kiss more.”

“‘m asleep, Lou,” Liam mumbles, but he rolls onto his back. That’s all the invitation Louis needs.

He climbs up onto Liam’s bed and straddles him at his waist, knees fitting perfectly just below his ribs. He bends over, bracing his hands on either side of Liam’s face to just brush their lips together.

“If you’re really too tired we can forget about it,” Louis offers, but he knows what Liam will say.

Liam doesn’t disappoint. “Not too tired for kissing.”

It’s difficult to smile and slide his lips against Liam’s at the same time, but Louis manages. They kiss slowly, breaths coming in long pants until they can barely keep their eyes open. Finally, Louis pulls away, settling himself in against Liam’s side. Liam turns to press one last kiss against Louis’ lips and they both drift off to sleep.

The first time it happens sober, it’s mostly an accident.

Zayn has a really big art project due in the middle of term and he chain smokes and paints more than anything else. It all comes to a head two days before the project is due when Louis comes home to find Zayn pacing their living area, sofas pushed away so that he could spread his tarp and canvas out on the floor. His cans of spray paint and brushes are laid out, but it looks like he’s gotten more on himself than on the canvas. He has an unlit cigarette in his mouth and his hands in his hair as he walks back and forth in front of the mostly blank canvas.

Louis watches him for a few moments and then says, “You alright, mate?”

Zayn startles, hands dropping from his hair. He scoffs out a humorless laugh. “Not really.”

“What’s going on?” Louis drops his bag on the floor of the hallway and comes into the room to stand beside Zayn and stare at the canvas.

“I just can’t fucking do it,” Zayn says, frustration bleeding through on every word. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to paint for almost a week and it’s due in two days and I have nothing. It’s forty percent of our grade, Lou, I can’t afford to not do this project.”

“You gotta take a breath, man,” Louis advises. “You’re just going to work yourself up more.”

“I can’t take a breath,” Zayn snaps. “I have to paint this within the next two days or I will fail my project. If I don’t get a good grade in this class I could lose my scholarship and I can’t afford to be here without it and I’ll have to go back to Bradford and tell my mum and da that I failed and listen to everyone tell me that I should have gone pre-med instead of art and how I would have made such a good doctor and maybe I should give that a try now that art isn’t working out and --”

Louis kisses him.

He doesn’t necessarily mean to, he just can’t think of another way to get Zayn to stop talking and breathe for a second. He expects Zayn to freak out, push him away and ask if he got high without him or something, but to his surprise, Zayn melts under his lips, kissing him back. Part of Louis knows he should stop this, that this isn’t something they do sober. But there’s another part of him that just wants to kiss Zayn some more because kissing Zayn is never a bad experience, really.

Zayn’s the one who finally breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Louis’ and keeping them close. “What was that for?”

“Just wanted you to shut up, honestly,” Louis tells him.

“Worked,” Zayn says, grinning at him. He pulls back a bit and Louis ignores the flicker of disappointment in his chest. Zayn looks a bit shy, brushing a hand to the back of his neck. “We could, like, if you wanted? We could do that some more.”

“We already do that quite a bit,” Louis points out because he feels like someone should. He might have gotten them into this mess, but he’s responsible enough to give them a way out.

“I meant, like, right now,” Zayn says.

“Oh,” Louis says, smirking at him. “Yeah, sure, we can do that.”

They somehow end up rolling around on the canvas, lips and tongues sliding together. Zayn’s hand slides up Louis’ shirt at one point and Louis’ skin feels like it’s on fire where Zayn’s fingertips are pressed to him. He realizes, suddenly, that he hasn’t gotten laid since this term started, relying on long snogging sessions with the boys to be enough in between wanks. It’s a pretty good system, but Zayn’s hand on his skin reminds him of everything he’s missing on nights when he crawls into bed with them instead of with a stranger.

It doesn’t matter, though, honestly. Not when Zayn’s mouth feels this good against his and not with Zayn making little whining noises in his ear whenever Louis kisses his collarbones. Louis has no idea how he stayed still when he got his collar tattooed because he’s sensitive as fuck there.

Zayn is the one to break them apart again and Louis feels a bit affronted. He was enjoying their kissing.

“Not that this isn’t great,” Zayn says, “--amazing,” he corrects when Louis raises an eyebrow, “but I think I want to paint?”

“You have an idea?” Louis asks, starting to disentangle himself from Zayn. He tugs his shirt back down as he stands up. “Get inspired by our passionate snogging?”

Zayn rolls his eyes and kneels beside his canvas. He reaches for a can of bright green spray paint and Louis takes it as he cue to leave and goes to grab his backpack. On his way to his room, he stops to hover over Zayn for just a second, but he’s just drawn a bunch of green squiggles so far. He bends down to press a quick kiss against Zayn’s shoulder blade beneath his t-shirt and then retreats to his room to try and do his homework.

He got Zayn to calm down and got him inspired to paint. He’s feeling very accomplished and rewards himself with a nap instead of writing the paper he has due the next day.

Much like the drunk kissing, the sober kissing becomes a thing. Between him and Zayn, anyways.

They never do it around the other boys. They don’t talk about why they don’t and Louis tries not to think about it, either. Telling them about it would only lead to them making a big deal about it while at least not talking about it only leads to Louis thinking about how it might be a bigger deal than he thinks.

But it’s Zayn, his best mate and partner in crime, and it’s easy.

It’s easy to swap kisses when they’re both in the bathroom brushing their teeth before their noon lectures, licking the taste of toothpaste out of Zayn’s mouth before he ducks out to get dressed. It’s easy to accept a kiss from Zayn when he’s making tea in the kitchen at one in the morning because he put off writing his paper again. It’s easy to toss a thigh over Zayn’s on the sofa and slot their mouths together when they have a break between classes while the other boys are still away.

Louis thinks that maybe Liam has figured out that something is different, but he can’t have because nothing is. Maybe Louis gravitates a bit more towards Zayn now that he knows he can get more kisses out of him than the others. Maybe Liam watches the way Zayn’s fingers slide up under Louis’ shirt, Zayn having caught on fast to how much Louis likes skin-to-skin contact. Maybe Zayn is a bit nicer to Louis in the mornings than the other lads because he’s been given a good morning kiss.

Sometimes Louis thinks he should bring it up with Zayn, just a quick, “Why don’t we talk about this with the boys? Why don’t we kiss in front of them?” casually thrown in while he’s between Zayn’s legs where Zayn’s sitting on the kitchen table. He doesn’t want to risk it, though; doesn’t want to lose his relationship with Zayn or his relationship with the other boys, so he settles into their new routine, starts looking forward to a cheeky make out after his lessons.

It goes on for almost two weeks before they get caught. They let their guard down, Louis thinks later. Got too comfortable in having the flat to themselves and doing whatever the fuck they wanted like they were getting away with something.

“Oops, sorry.” They break apart at the sound of Harry’s voice. He’s standing in the archway that separates the living area from the hallway, exactly where Louis had stood to watch Zayn that first time. Harry raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize you two were a thing now.”

“We’re not,” Louis says. He immediately tenses up and looks at Zayn. “I mean. We’ve never talked about it, but…”

“We’re not,” Zayn interrupts him to confirm. “Just mates.”

“Who kiss,” Harry adds.

Louis rolls his eyes. “We all kiss.”

“When we’re drunk,” Harry says. He sniffs the air pointedly. “I don’t smell any weed and it’s too early for either of you to be drinking.”

“You don’t know that,” Louis says to be difficult.

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “Wish you had told me, though.”

“Didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Zayn answers. Louis is so lucky that it was Zayn he ended up kissing. Zayn just gets it, no explanation necessary.

Harry waves Zayn off. “I don’t care about that. I just wish I had known sober kissing was an option. I’m much better at it when I’m sober.”

Zayn and Louis share a look. Zayn shrugs and Louis shrugs back.

“Come over here and prove it then, Styles,” Louis challenges.

Harry lopes over to the couch, managing to squeeze himself in between the two of them. “Prepare to be amazed!”

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes in favor of closing them and letting Harry press their mouths together. Harry kisses at his upper lip a few times before dragging his tongue across. Louis opens up to him easily, used to the feel of Harry’s mouth on his, though it’s less fuzzy now that he’s not doing it drunk. And shit, Harry wasn’t lying. He’s a pretty amazing kisser when he’s drunk, but sober he’s in a totally different league.

“What the fuck?” Louis demands, pulling away. “How did you get so good at that?”

Harry grins, smug. “Used to listen in to Gemma when she would talk about kissing boys to her friends. Surprising what you can learn from your sister complaining about George Arnold from sixth form.”

Louis hates to admit it, but he is a bit impressed.

“Are you going to talk about how good you are at kissing or are you going to show me?” Zayn teases from Harry’s other side.

Louis leans forward in time to see their mouths come together. He can see the way that Zayn isn’t giving Harry a centimetre, battling him for dominance in the kiss. It’s hot, is what it is, and Louis finds himself staring.

They break apart after a few long minutes and Louis is eager to have his turn kissing one of them again. Zayn reaches across Harry, to fist a hand in Louis’ shirt, pulling them together over Harry’s lap.

“Fuck, shit,” Harry curses. “That is really hot.” Louis can feel Zayn’s lips curve up into a smirk, knows that his are doing the same. “We should do this more. Like, a lot more.”

Louis pulls away from Zayn to laugh out loud, ducking down to lean his head against Harry’s shoulder. “Can do, H. Can do.”

Liam has definitely figured out what is going on. Or, well, he’s figured out that something is going on.

Louis is getting dressed for his two o’clock lecture when Liam returns from his noon one.

“Oh, good,” Liam says. His tone has Louis immediately narrowing his eyes. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Make it quick, Payno, I have to get to class,” Louis says. “Trying to be a good student and all that.”

“Like you care about being late to class,” Liam scoffs. Louis just raises one eyebrow at him. “I was just wondering what was going on with you and Zayn? Because you guys seem a lot closer now and, like, Harry mentioned something about kissing? It’s fine if you guys are dating or whatever, but it would have been nice of you to tell us.”

“We’re not dating,” Louis says. Part of him wants to take offense at Liam’s words, part of him wants to laugh. All of him is going to punch Harry in the face for saying anything to Liam in the first place.

“Are you… sleeping together?” Liam hesitates, shifting his weight.

“We’re not doing that either,” Louis says. “We just. Kiss sometimes.”

Liam frowns, brows drawing together. “But we all do that.”

“When we’re sober,” Louis clarifies. He wonders for a second if it’s weird that they have to clarify that.

“Is that something we’re doing now?” Liam asks, still looking confused.

“It’s something Zayn and Harry and I are doing now,” Louis says. Liam’s face falls for just a second before he schools it back to normal. “Though, you’re more than welcome to join in.”

“I don’t,” Liam starts, but then pauses. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We live together, Louis.”

“And? We’ve been living together for a year and been kissing for just about as long.”

“I don’t know.” Liam moves to his side of the room, touching the stuff on his desk. Louis can tell he’s only doing it to avoid making eye contact. “It just feels different.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Louis says. “It’s just kissing.”

“It’s different,” Liam repeats.

Louis studies Liam’s back for a second, wishing he would turn around so he could see his face. Liam was so bad at keeping his feelings a secret, his face gave everything away.

“Don’t you have class?” Liam asks before Louis can say anything else.

“Fuck, yeah,” Louis says, checking the time on his phone. He grabs his books off the desk and runs out the door, stopping to give Harry and Zayn each a kiss on his way out.

Liam doesn’t bring it up again, but Louis can feel him watching him. He can feel Liam’s eyes on him whenever he stands too close to Zayn or leaves his hand tangled in Harry’s hair for too long.

It doesn’t mean anything, Louis kind of wants to shout at him. Or okay maybe it does, but who cares?

Because lately it’s been getting harder and harder to separate his feelings of friendship towards Zayn and Harry from the feelings he gets when he has them spread out on the sofa with his tongue in their mouth. It’s very confusing and Louis regrets for just a moment that they ever decided to do this sober, because now he has to think about things and that feels a lot like it’s Liam’s fault.

He catches Liam whispering to Niall a lot more. Liam always backs away quickly or stops talking when Louis comes into the room. It always makes Niall give him a confused look, but he never says anything to Louis (or Zayn or Harry as far as Louis knows).

That all comes to a grinding halt during their Halloween party. The first wave of guests have only just shown up when Zayn wraps a hand around Louis’ hip and nods in the direction of his bedroom.

“I haven’t even had anything to drink yet,” Louis says, even as he leads the way to Zayn and Niall’s room.

“It’s better when we’re sober anyways,” Zayn retorts as they close the door behind them.

Louis grins and tugs Zayn around until he can push him down on his bed and straddle his hips. He leans over and presses their mouths together, letting his lips fall open right away in invitation.

The sound of the door opening behind them has them pulling apart, both making an annoyed noise.

“You started without me,” Harry says, pouting.

“Get over here and catch up then,” Zayn says, his hand coming around to the back of Louis’ neck and pulling him back into a kiss.

Harry does just that, his weight dipping the mattress as he slots himself in beside Zayn. He whines until Louis huffs and switches over to kiss him instead.

Louis doesn’t know how long they stay in there, snogging and letting their hips fall together. Harry and Louis work together to get Zayn out of his shirt to lick over his tattoos. Louis wonders if maybe he should put a stop to this. They’ve never let it get this far before; never gotten to the point where one of them starts losing clothes.

Make that two of them, Louis amends as Harry reaches behind himself to grab the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head. Louis stops wondering if they should go rejoin the party and rededicates his focus to getting his hands all over Harry.

“‘ve just got to grab my computer so I can show ya that video, hang on,” Niall’s yelling to someone as he comes in the room.

Louis freezes, feels Zayn and Harry both go still as well. It’s one thing for Liam to confront him about it, another for Niall to walk in on them in the act.

“Whoa, sorry mate,” Niall says immediately, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. After a moment, he peeks between his fingers. “Wait a second…”

“Hey, bro,” Harry says, leaning up on his elbows. “Sounds like a killer party.”

“So Liam was right then,” Niall says instead. He squints at them. “Are you guys even drunk?”

“No?” Louis offers, unsure of how Niall is going to take this.

“We’re going to talk about this,” Niall says, drunkenly pointing at them. “Tomorrow afternoon, after the three of you make me and Liam bacon sandwiches for lunch.”

Louis would be much less concerned if anyone except Niall was making this threat while this intoxicated. Niall has the scary ability to remember everything that happens, no matter how wasted he gets.

“Sure thing, man,” Zayn says. He nudges at Louis until Louis gets the hint and rolls off of him. Zayn goes to stand close to Niall, poking at both his nipples and then his belly button (“It’s a roommate thing,” Niall had told Louis when he’d asked one time) as he all but murmurs, “Now let’s get me a drink so I have an excuse to kiss you next.”

Louis groans, rolling into Harry as Niall turns bright red and he and Zayn leave the room.

The next afternoon, after Harry has made Niall and Liam bacon sarnies (and then got talked into making Zayn and Louis food as well), they all sit down in the living area. It’s the most awkward it’s been since they met.

“I guess we should talk about this, then,” Liam finally says.

“Talk about what?” Zayn asks. He’s lounged back on the sofa, arms crossed over his ribs defensively.

“About you guys snogging all over this house,” Niall says.

“We all --”

“While sober,” Liam cuts Harry off. “Snogging while sober. That’s what we’re talking about.”

Louis decides it’s time for him to take control of this conversation. “It’s just snogging. We just do it without drinking first.”

“Isn’t that weird?” Liam asks. “You’re not dating or anything.”

“It’s not weird, Liam, it’s a snog between mates,” Louis says, shrugging.

“Though we could be dating,” Harry chimes in. “We’d be great at dating, I think.”

“You do talk some shit, Styles,” Louis says.

“Well, why not?” Niall demands, and Harry high fives him. “The three of you like to kiss each other and I like kissing all of you and Liam’s never complained about getting a little tongue action.” (“Gross,” Liam and Zayn say in unison.) “Why don’t all five of us try the kissing-without-drinking-first thing?”

“But we can still kiss while drinking, right?” Harry asks sounding genuinely concerned.

“Of course we can,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. “We can just all kiss all the time.”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t fancy,” Liam says, “not while sober, anyways.”

“Aw, Liam, are you saying you fancy us?” Louis teases.

Liam shrugs. “If we’re going to do this we’re going to do it right.”

“Don’t think there is a right way to do a five person relationship, mate,” Zayn says.

Liam pouts at him a bit and Harry joins in.

“We’ll do this right,” Harry says, “because we deserve to have it done right. Besides, we’re all great lads, who wouldn’t want to date us?”

“Me.” Zayn’s voice is muffled under Niall’s shoulder where Niall has pressed himself up against Zayn’s side. Louis reaches over and pokes Zayn a bit, something he can only ever get away with when Zayn is in a good mood.

“Boyfriends, then,” Louis says like it’s that easy.

“Boyfriends,” Liam affirms. He leans over and kisses Louis and yeah, maybe it is that easy.