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Spending the last bit of Valentine's Day with Louis almost makes Liam forget that he isn't his. Almost makes him forget that Louis was no doubt kissed awake by Harry this morning, that the two probably wished each other a happy Valentine's Day and exchanged “I love you”s before smiling at each other stupidly, the way they always do, and leaning in for more kisses.
Liam's so high off of their performance, so drunk on alcohol and on Louis' presence that he very nearly forgets the way that Harry and Louis had been attached at the hip all day long, even more so than usual, whispering sweet nothings to each other and laughing and making each other deliriously happy.
He'd felt a rush of guilt earlier at the club, when Louis had slung an arm around his shoulder and he had clutched Louis’ hand tightly, affectionately, like it was his hand to hold. Louis had been too intoxicated to question the gesture, and Liam had tried to ignore how his heartbeat pounded rapidly in his chest, drowning out the music blaring throughout the room.
Not even a minute later, Harry had shimmied his way over to the two of them from across the club and Louis released himself from Liam's grip to greet his fiancé. They didn't touch-- they never touch when they're in public-- but the drunken smiles they directed at each other could have illuminated the dimly lit dance floor. Liam's guilt had increased then, accompanied by a twisted kind of pleasure that he could touch and interact with Louis wherever and whenever he pleased, but Harry, Louis' very own boyfriend, couldn't.
The thought had made him feel so horrible that he'd taken a huge swig of the drink in his hand to make himself forget it.
Now, he’s walking with Louis back to their hotel rooms. Once Louis had stumbled back from giggling with Harry, he’d told Liam that he was going back to his room to sleep. The rest of the boys stayed behind, but Liam had agreed with Louis about being ready to turn in for the night and offered to walk back with him, if only just to have a moment alone with the other man (as alone as they could be with their bodyguards and fans surrounding them).
His arms are wrapped securely around Louis’s tiny waist as they shuffle down the hallway, making walking a little clumsy and awkward, but he’s drunk and trying to keep Louis close before he retires to his room for the night and becomes Harry’s again. Not that he was ever Liam’s, not really, but thinking about the situation that way makes Liam feel a little less empty sometimes, if he manages to suppress the guilt that comes with it.
These days, Liam feels like he’s constantly feeling guilty. Ever since he realized he had feelings for Louis, his mind has been a torturous jumble of conflicting emotions. He can’t help but want Louis for himself-- radiant, lively, beautiful, wonderful Louis-- but at the same time, he loves Harry and Louis’ relationship, he truly does. They’re so good for each other, and they love so fiercely and passionately that it’s blinding. And he knows how hard they’ve fought, how they’ve stayed together through every strain on their relationship, how they’ve declared their commitment to each other permanently on their bodies. But one look at Louis makes him imagine the possibilities, what being with Louis would be like. What it would be like to be the recipient of those fond smiles, what it would be like to kiss those thin lips, to run his hands over that petite, curvy body.
And it’s wrong, it’s so, so wrong to think about his best mate’s bloody fiancé like that, but Louis has this effect on Liam. He makes him lose all of his inhibitions, makes him feel free in a way that no one has ever done before. And he feels so guilty. All the goddamn time.
The two of them stop to take pictures with the few fans that are lingering in the hallway, and Louis is shouting nonsense as they make their way to the elevator. He’s so utterly adorable. Liam can’t stop a face-splitting smile from growing on his face. He holds Louis closer, and Louis doesn’t mention it if he’s noticed.
The elevator ride up to their floor consists of Liam holding Louis up, because while Liam is fairly drunk, Louis is absolutely trashed. He’s still babbling incoherently and laughing obnoxiously, and Liam is staring. Staring at a brilliant smile, twinkling blue eyes, a gorgeous, captivating man. He wants to tell this man that he loves him. That he would do anything and everything to make him happy. So, when they make it to the door of Louis and Harry’s room, he does.
“Aww, Liam! I love you, too,” Louis replies happily, completely oblivious to the true weight behind Liam’s words. He pulls Liam into a strong embrace and smacks a kiss on his cheek before bidding him goodnight and leaving him alone in the hallway. Liam’s not sure if Louis will remember his confession tomorrow, and he’s not sure if he wants him to. He’s not sure he would ever have the courage to say those words to Louis again if he doesn’t.
Louis doesn’t remember, and Liam doesn’t remind him.