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The party is already in full swing by the time Zayn arrives. It’s not quite as crazy as he expected it to be given the guest list, but he supposes there will be plenty of time for it to ramp up before the clock strikes midnight, and there’s still a fair deal of yelling, dancing, and free-flowing alcohol. There’s an eclectic pop mix blaring from the stereo system in the living room, and Zayn heard a different song drifting from the backyard on his way up the stoop. There’s probably another, separate playlist on in the basement where people are playing darts and other party games, and all of the music combined with the constant shouting and laughter is going to give him a headache by the time the new year comes, but at least there are multiple things to distract him.
One such thing is Harry, one of the hosts for the evening who immediately spots Zayn when he enters, breaks into a huge smile, and trips over a few people in his haste to get to Zayn and hug him.
“Hey, you get an early start?” Zayn asks, putting a steadying hand at Harry’s waist. Harry leans back enough to flick his hair out of his face and grins.
“Not much,” he says. Zayn can’t tell if his flush is from the alcohol or exuberant dancing, but his happiness is infectious either way. “Let’s get you a drink!”
Harry leads him through the crowd with a hand around his wrist, not letting Zayn stop and talk to anyone else until they get to the kitchen.
Zayn loves kitchens at parties. They’re always some sort of oasis, and Harry and Liam’s kitchen is even more so because they have a rickety, wooden sliding door that can cut it off from the rest of the house. Even though he can hear pieces of all three playlists from this spot, the lights are bright and there’s no one else crowding the space except for them.
“What do you want?” Harry asks, gesturing to the array of drinks laid out on the counter, including beer, vodka, tequila, champagne, and some fancy wine that Zayn has never tasted before in his life, to name a few.
“Did you guys rob a liquor store?” he asks, knowing that there’s still more tucked away that Liam will bring out later, after a few of these containers have been emptied.
“No, we got donations!” Harry says. “Let me mix you something.”
He gets a red solo cup, turning his back to Zayn so he can’t see what exactly is being added to it. Zayn lets him make the drink and instead checks his phone, waiting to see if he has any new messages. He’ll probably get a few from friends and acquaintances once they enter the new year, but right now his closest friends are all here, waiting to be seen in person.
“Here you go,” Harry says, placing the cup in Zayn’s hand. He gives it a sniff. It doesn’t seem to be poisoned. Harry’s bartending skills leave something to be desired, but maybe he’s having a good day.
Zayn doesn’t have to find out, because at that moment Niall enters, smoothly commandeering all of Harry’s attention. Harry has always been drawn to him, but it’s gotten worse since they started dating a few weeks ago. Zayn knows that part of it is still the honeymoon phase, but he’s really interested to see how long it takes for them to settle down to normal, regular-people levels of obsession with each other. Right now, Zayn knows that he might as well not be in a room at all as long as Niall is in that same room.
“Hey, where have you been?” Niall asks, immediately wrapping his arms around Harry. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I’ve been here,” Harry giggles, actually giggles. Zayn’s eyes are going to roll into the back of his head.
Maybe he’d be a little less jaded about how mushy they are if he had someone of his own, but he’s been carrying the same torch for someone for a few years. The flame has shown no signs of burning out, and no signs of being reciprocated.
Zayn sighs and turns back to the drinks, tuning out Harry and Niall’s murmured words and looking for a good beer he likes instead. At some point he glances up to see them kissing, so he starts looking at the alcohol labels in earnest, pressuring himself into making a decision and getting out of there.
“Oi, lovebirds! It’s not midnight yet!” someone yells, the door to the kitchen sliding open and then back closed with a bang. Louis’s presence always fills the room, but in the small space it feels almost oppressive, even though Zayn would like nothing more than to slide a bit closer. For now, he keeps himself busy with the drink selection, content to put off exposing himself to how devastatingly good Louis inevitably looks tonight.
“Hi, Louis,” Harry says, disconnecting his mouth from Niall’s with an audible pop that makes Zayn grimace. “We’re allowed to kiss before New Years, you know. It’s not bad luck, or anything.”
“Well, no need to rub it in all of our faces that you’ve got someone to kiss at midnight when the rest of us don’t!” Louis says exuberantly. Zayn finally makes himself turn around to face him, leaning against the counter to take in the way his hair curves around his ears now that it’s long enough to, his bright eyes, the jumper he’s wearing that Zayn wants to wrap himself up in, and that large, squinty grin that Zayn almost always mirrors when it’s directed at him.
“Louis, half of the people in this house are dating each other, or at least brought a plus one,” Niall says. “Just because you’re lonely doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.”
“It’s not just me,” Louis protests. His gaze lands on Zayn and he lights up again. “Zayn doesn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight either, right Zayn?”
“That’s a funny thing to be assuming,” Zayn replies, taking a sip of his beer. Louis’s eyes go wide.
“But--I thought you didn’t bring anyone tonight,” he says, shoulders drooping. Zayn tries to hold out the ruse, but he’s helpless in the face of Louis’s disappointment at being the odd man out.
“I didn’t. I’m leaving, though, so they can make out all they want. I don’t want to kiss either of them, so it doesn’t matter to me.”
There’s only one person Zayn wants to kiss in this kitchen, but Louis doesn’t need to know that.
“Thanks, mate,” Niall says cheerfully.
“If you two are going to get more enthusiastic, maybe find a room first, yeah?” Zayn suggests, pushing off from the counter and clapping a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “There are some things no one should have to see.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Harry says to Niall. Just like that, Zayn has been forgotten again.
Louis rolls his eyes when Zayn looks at him, inclining his head towards the door in a question. Zayn nods and follows him out because he’d follow him anywhere, leaving the kitchen oasis for the noise of the living room instead.
Zayn gets to talk to his friends this time, making the rounds with Louis’s arm around his shoulder. There are a lot of people at this party that he hasn’t talked to in a while, and he kills well over an hour catching up with them while Louis hangs off of him. Louis also complains profusely about how lonely he is to every couple they run across, always lamenting the fact that he doesn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight. Zayn is just glad that no one suggests he be the one to kiss Louis, since Louis leans off him more and more as the night goes on and at one point earnestly asks him if he has any suggestions.
Zayn would love to kiss Louis. He’d love to do a lot of things to Louis, and kissing him is pretty much at the top of the list. He doesn’t, however, want to kiss Louis once at midnight only to never get to do it again. Zayn can’t imagine that Louis would be bad enough to help him get over him, which means he’d probably be resigned to comparing every single future kiss to that one. They all would be found wanting, because nothing would compare to finally getting to kiss the love of his life.
Zayn knows he’s being a little dramatic, but it’s difficult to keep his composure with Louis plastered against him, laughing loud in his ear, face so close to his.
“Do you want to dance?” Louis asks after they’ve talked to everyone in the room, leaning close so Zayn can hear him now that they’ve made it back by the speakers. Zayn has finished his beer and gotten used to Louis’s presence at his side. He doesn't want to give that up before he has to, but he hasn’t seen Liam yet tonight, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Liam’s reminds him in his head that dancing with Louis in the past has always been amazing in the moment and devastating afterwards.
Louis gets handsy when he dances. Zayn first figured this out back in uni, before he realized why Louis was his favorite person to draw for art projects or where the adrenaline rush he got after one of their pranks actually came from.
It’s laughable how clueless he was, but Zayn figured it out halfway through the first song at a crowded club, pressed against the length of Louis’s body and enjoying it entirely too much.
“Nah, I have to find Liam,” he says. Louis’s face falls, but he bounces back quickly.
“Find me later, alright?” he asks. Zayn nods, and Louis disappears into the crowd covering the makeshift dance floor.
The basement is quieter than the main room, and Zayn quickly spots Liam playing a fast-paced card game with a few other people. He wins a round, causing everyone else at the table to groan, and Liam collects a few dollar bills that seem to have been wagered. Zayn makes his way over, tapping his shoulder instead of saying anything.
“Zayn! How have you been, mate?” he asks, boisterously standing and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. Zayn loves Liam’s hugs, because Liam somehow always knows exactly which kind he needs at that moment.
“Deal me out of this round, lads,” Liam says, to the rest of the table’s relief. He leads Zayn over to an open seat on the couch, turning to him with bright eyes.
“How long have you been here?” he asks. “Louis was looking for you earlier.”
“I found him,” Zayn says. “Well, he found me. I’m supposed to find him again later.”
“Later?” Liam asks, glint in his eye. “Around midnight, maybe?”
Zayn groans.
“He keeps talking about how he doesn’t have anyone to kiss! Like, I’m right here, mate. I’ve been right here the whole time. He could have someone to kiss at midnight for the rest of his life if he wanted.”
Liam hums.
“I think he does want,” he says. Zayn swallows.
“Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not!” Liam says earnestly. He grabs Zayn’s hand, holding it between both of his own. “He talks about you a lot, Zayn. Half of our conversations begin with anecdotes about what you two have been up to or a funny picture you texted him. He always lights up around you, and you remember that movie night you had two weeks ago when the rest of us didn’t show?” Zayn nods. “He told us not to come. Said he was canceling, but apparently he just wanted more time alone with you.”
“Wait, really?”
Liam nods. Zayn flips through his recent memories of that night. Louis had sat on the couch with him instead of in the armchair, talking through the entire movie and sharing all of his snacks. He ended up leaning on Zayn for half of it, and Zayn himself spent the entire night leaning into him, too. Zayn had been too busy monitoring his own breathing and letting himself enjoy the extra contact to question it, but maybe he should have.
A few other memories flicker through his head: Louis scrolling through his phone with his feet in Zayn’s lap and leaning forward to show him things that make him laugh, Louis waving at Zayn from half a block away and speeding up to meet him, Louis taking his hand as they run while Harry shrieks about hair dye in his shampoo. They’re all small, innocuous moments, but put together with Liam’s voice of reason and that movie night, they feel big.
Zayn rubs at his bottom lip.
“Huh,” he says.
“Do you need a minute?” Liam asks. Zayn doesn’t get one, because Louis flops onto the couch (and onto both of them) at that moment.
“Hey guys! What’s happening down here?” he asks, wiggling to get comfortable.
“Hello, Louis. Zayn and I were having a conversation, but you always have to be the center of attention, don’t you?” Liam says, poking Louis in the cheek. Louis sticks out his tongue.
“Bored of the party upstairs already?” Zayn asks.
“No, just missed you,” Louis says. He says it excessively sweet, batting his eyelashes and everything. It’s easy to take the words as a joke, except now Zayn knows what to look for. There’s only sincerity in his eyes.
“You’re crushing me a bit,” Liam says. Louis grumbles but gets back to his feet.
“Fine! I’m going to go try to find someone to kiss at midnight. Unless you have any suggestions?” His eyes flick to Zayn for a split-second, then return to Liam.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Liam says. Louis sighs.
“Better hurry. Midnight is coming up fast.”
Liam glances at Zayn.
“I’ll find you before, still,” Zayn promises.
“Yeah, yeah,” Louis mutters, heading back to the stairs. Zayn watches him go.
“Do you see it now?” Liam asks. “You two have been pretty obvious. It’s time to go for it.”
Zayn sighs.
“I need another drink.”
-/-
Zayn doesn’t end up getting one, rejoining the party and immediately getting sidetracked by Niall, who has lost track of Harry again. By the time they manage to locate him outside, there’s only a few minutes until midnight, and Zayn needs to find Louis.
He’s not in the living room. He’s not in the basement. He’s not outside, because Zayn just found Harry out there.
Someone gives a one minute warning. Zayn begins to panic.
He checks the upstairs rooms as fast as he can, but even the ones that are occupied are empty of Louis. He speeds down the stairs, leaping off the bottom, and frantically looks around the living room, where the music has paused to prepare for the countdown.
“Ten!”
The kitchen door is closed. It’s the last possible place Louis could be.
“Nine!”
He pushes his way through the crowd, apologizing as much as he can.
“Eight!”
He slides the door open.
“Seven!”
Louis looks up at the noise, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Six!”
“I’ve been in love with you for years!” Zayn blurts.
“Five!”
“What?” Louis asks, jaw slack.
“Four!”
“I’ve been in love with you for years and I really want to kiss you!”
“Three!”
Louis takes two long strides towards him.
“Two!”
“I love you, too,” he says, cupping Zayn’s face in his hands.
“One!”
Louis kisses him like he’s been waiting all of his life to do it. He attacks the kiss with the energy he brings to everything he puts his mind to, but Zayn doesn’t feel pushed or overwhelmed. The kiss is a conversation between the two of them, Louis connecting their lips and Zayn opening against him, Louis smiling into it and Zayn taking the opportunity to push back, Louis humming and Zayn licking into his mouth. Zayn wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer, wanting to feel as much of them pressed together as possible.
They part after the cheering has died down and they’ve run out of breath. Louis blinks at him, eyes unfocused for a moment, then grins.
“Love, huh? For years?” He hooks his hands more securely over Zayn’s shoulders, keeping them tied together. Zayn’s lips won’t stop tingling.
“Yeah,” he says. “You love me, too?”
“Yep. I was hoping you’d get the hint tonight. You had me worried there.”
“I was right on time!”
Louis kisses his nose. Zayn feels himself blush.
“I’m glad you were,” Louis says. He grins at Zayn with his squinty smile. It’s absolutely lethal from this distance, and Zayn’s lips turn up in a perfect mirror.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
“So,” Louis says, drawing out the syllable. “What’s the first thing that you want to do this year?” He blinks at Zayn coquettishly. It’d be ridiculous if anyone else did it, but with Louis it’s endearing.
“Kiss you again,” he says. Louis grins like Zayn gave the correct answer and leans in again.