Work Text:
*
Louis spots the peak of Zayn’s quiff hovering outside the door to their office and tries to discreetly wave him away without Simon noticing.
Simon must see Louis’ hand flapping behind his back because he turns around to peer suspiciously over his shoulder, but Zayn – thank Christ – has taken Louis’ waving to heart and is hopefully hiding down the corridor in the loo by now.
“Erm, was there anything else you needed me to check?” Louis asks innocently, trying to direct Simon’s attention back around to him and not out the door where the faint scent of cigarette smoke is still lingering and the door to the gents is just squeaking shut. Fucking Zayn.
Simon frowns and Louis beams in an effort to distract him. He thinks of all the new and creative ways he’s going to make Zayn suffer for putting him in this position yet again so early in the week. It does a lot to improve Louis’ mood. “No, that's all,” Simon answers flatly. “Make sure you get Paul to sign off on who’ll be unloading the lorry later on, so I know who’s responsible for it, all right?”
“Right, got it,” Louis answers with a bright grin, trying to look as much like a diligent employee of SC Furniture as he can. From the way Simon is rolling his eyes Louis isn’t quite convinced it’s working. “I’ll take care of it straight away. You can count on me, Uncle Si.” Simon nearly sets Louis’ on fire with his glare, so Louis quickly adds, “I mean, Simon. Mr. Cowell.”
Simon hmpfs under his breath and pauses by Zayn’s desk on his way out. He looks up at Louis and slowly raises one eyebrow. Louis is still holding his cheeks in what feels like a psychotic grin, then Simon rolls his eyes as he flicks Zayn’s computer monitor on, and shit. When Louis claimed that Zayn was already here and had just gone for a cup of tea, it would have helped if he'd turned the bloody computer on. Simon narrows his eyes as he backs out of the door, and jabs an accusing finger in Louis’ direction. “And stop covering for Zayn.”
Louis tries for his cheekiest grin. “Oops?” he says, and when Simon doesn't walk off he adds, “I mean, sorry?”
Simon grunts and stalks away, shoes echoing loudly on the tiled floor. He pauses only to bang on the door to the gents and shout, “On time tomorrow, Mr Malik. Understand?” and continue down the corridor before Zayn even has a chance to answer.
Louis waits until he’s sure Simon has left before going to lean in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Zayn peeks his head out of the loo a minute later and hisses, “Has he gone?” and Louis motions for him to join him quickly before Simon comes back.
“Yes, you fucking twat,” Louis says, exasperated but still fond. After all, if wouldn’t be Zayn if he wasn’t late to everything he’s ever been to in his entire life, ever. “Now get in here, we’ve got loads of work to do.”
Zayn sneaks down the hall and by the time he’s managed to get past Louis and his best attempt at smacking Zayn hard across the back of the head he and Louis are breathless and giggling. “You’re the worst,” Louis shoves Zayn over to his desk where Zayn promptly flops into his chair and drops his head down onto the keyboard.
“Uggggggh,” Zayn moans. “I’m so tiiiiired.”
Louis blinks, because really? After everything Louis has gone through this morning because of Zayn being late, he actually has the nerve to complain about being tired? Clearly Louis must be missing something. He has to be.
He isn't, though. Louis realizes that soon enough because Zayn peers to the side and just keeps staring at him – fluttering his dark lashes at him like that’s going to work - and takes another long, overdramatic breath. “What I wouldn’t do for a nice, hot cup of tea,” Zayn mopes. Louis stares at him. He can’t even believe what he’s hearing.
“You’re nearly an hour late. Thirty minutes of which I had to spend convincing Simon that you were just on an extended trip to the loo. Plus the fact that we have loads of actual work to do today. Simon gave me a list of all these things we need to get in place for the party; the catering and all the decs and the guest list and the fucking raffle. We’ve got to get the orders in for next week by lunch. I’ve got a file full of invoices that we have to bring all the way back to the warehouse to get Paul to sign—“
“Right,” Zayn snorts. “Your life is so hard and the last possible thing you want to do today is walk all the way back to the warehouse. Where there are like, a million sweaty guys all manly grunting and, oh, wait, doesn’t Liam work back there? In Paul’s group, even?”
“Piss off,” Louis warns, but Zayn pays him no attention, grinning widely at Louis instead. Louis desperately needs to invest in some new friends.
“I wonder if he’s in yet,” Zayn singsongs, suddenly perking up. He sits up straight at his desk and makes ridiculous kissing faces and flutters his eyelashes like a simpering pre-teen. Louis honestly hates him almost as much as he hates himself for drunkenly telling Zayn about his stupid crush six months ago. Zayn never remembers anything - what day of the week it is, what time he needs to get up in the morning, who he snogged the night before - but Louis’ drunken confession over finding Liam from the warehouse insanely fit, that he remembers.
“Oh, Liam!” Zayn teases, getting out of his seat to waltz around the office. He presses one hand against his heart and holds the other up high in the air. Louis tries to trip him up, but Zayn notices and dances the other way. “Can you check and see if all of these big, heavy sofas came in on time? I hear you’re an expert at that. Oh, Liam, can you get me that big, heavy box over on that shelf over there? You’re just the strongest bloke I’ve ever seen. Oh, Liam, can you shove me up against that wall in the back and suck on my face for a bit while I—“
“Goodbye, Zayn!” Louis calls, already grabbing the folders with the papers he needs and striding from the office. He’s never going to tell Zayn anything ever again. Ever. And God help him if he’s late tomorrow; Louis will sell him out to Simon faster than Zayn can say worst best mate in the world.
Louis pulls the door closed but still hears Zayn shout from inside the office, “Don’t forget my tea!” He pretends to ignore him, though, and heads out and down the corridor.
*
The warehouse is huge and bright with high ceilings and a dingy cement floor. Everything there is loud; from the music pulsing out over the speakers, to the way everyone shouts at each other when they need to get things done, to the beeping and buzzing of lorries loading and unloading sofas and coffee tables and lamps of every different size and shape.
Louis loves it. Sure, he also loves his quiet little office where he and Zayn do the admin and file orders and do all the finance, but the warehouse is fun. Louis clutches Zayn’s tea in one hand (because if he's going to be a pushover and get Zayn’s tea he's at least going to do it first so it's nice and cold by the time he brings it back to him) and his file of invoices in the other. He wanders around saying hello to the lads he knows, while keeping an eye out for Paul.
And, well, if he happens to spot Liam in the meantime there’s no harm in that, is there?
As if thinking his name conjures him up somehow, the next corner Louis turns has him nearly walking face first into Liam's very broad chest. He jumps back in surprise, nearly upending Zayn’s tea and dropping his papers all over the floor. Great. Super. Louis’ day is going swimmingly, really.
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Liam says, quickly dropping the box he’d been holding to make sure Louis is all right. Louis is fine, although one of these days seeing Liam in a tight grey polo shirt might actually be the death of him. Until that, he should be ok. “Are you all right?” Liam asks, sounding genuinely concerned. “You didn’t lose anything, did you?”
“I’m fine, mate,” Louis waves the Styrofoam cup of tea in the air to show everything is perfect. “Didn’t lose a drop.”
“Oh, good,” Liam says. His voice is soft; Louis always wonders how someone as calm and quiet as Liam ended up working in the warehouse with all the others, who always seem so loud. Then he takes another look at Liam’s biceps, and his chest muscles, and Christ, his shoulders and he doesn’t wonder about much after that. Well, other than breathing. He has to think a lot about how to breathe correctly whenever he pictures Liam's shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to make you drop your papers or your tea.”
“Well, nothing to worry about there!” Louis says, and then continues to stand there grinning stupidly, because he apparently has no control over his brain when Liam is around. Liam—to his credit—stands there as well, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He's also smiling at Louis, just a little one with the edges of his mouth quirking up, and it’s all Louis can do not to shout, I love you! Marry me! Let’s run away together and adopt a pack of wild alpacas!. Thankfully Niall picks that moment to pop out from behind Liam’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at Louis and pulling a ridiculous face.
“Morning, Lou,” Niall says swiftly. He’s grabbing boxes from the shelves next to them, and loading them onto the back of a trolley a few feet away. “Just passing through to say hello?” He grins shrewdly and Louis narrows his eyes because he knows Niall and Zayn are mates, and the way Niall is looking from Louis to Liam and back again leads Louis to believe his drunken confession to Zayn - and only Zayn - went a little further than just him. Liam looks confused for a second, but before he can ask anything, Niall says, “Or did you stop by with a nice cuppa for our Liam over here?”
Liam flushes pink from his cheeks to the roots of his hair, and it’s all Louis can do to throw himself at Liam and stick his tongue in Liam’s mouth just to see what happens, just to see if he can make Liam blush any more than he already is. Behind Liam, Niall is bent at the waist in fits of laughter. Louis hates Zayn and every single person Zayn knows with the heat of a thousand suns.
Louis is fine, though. He can do this. He sucks in a breath and beams at Liam, offering Zayn’s cup of tea because really, this is all Zayn’s fault anyway. That’s the story Louis is going to stick with, at least.
“Would you like the tea?” Louis asks, and Liam shakes his head, no.
“I couldn’t,” Liam says, sounding scandalized.
“No, you really can,” Louis shoves the cup forward a little closer to Liam’s hand. “It’s extra.”
Liam narrows his eyes. “Is it really?”
“Definitely. We always have coffee in the office. Coffee, tea, biscuits sometimes even. It’s a right party in the office of SC Furniture, I’ll tell you that.” Louis laughs and hopes it doesn’t sound as hysterical out loud as it does in his head. From the way Niall is rolling his eyes, Louis’ hopes aren’t very high. “This is just an extra one I picked up on the way out here to see Paul.” It’s a blatant lie; hopefully Liam will never work in the office to realize they don’t get free coffee or tea or biscuits. They’re lucky to have pens.
“Well if you’re sure it’s extra,” Liam says, and Louis shoves the cup into his hand.
Liam grins and takes a small sip from the cup and that’s it; Louis needs to be done back here. He’s on Liam overload already and now he’s about to start blowing across the top of his cup. Louis couldn’t stay and watch that happen if you paid him a million pounds.
“All right then, lads,” he says brightly, looking off to the side so he doesn’t have to see Liam watching him fondly with big brown eyes over a sodding cup of tea. “If you’ll just point me to where Paul is hiding—“
“He’s over there with Josh and Andy,” Liam answers. Louis grins and waves his file of papers in the air in a small see you later motion, and tries to ignore the way Niall is pretending to snog his own arm behind Liam’s back, laughing hysterically as he points between the two of them.
All in all, Louis thinks it could have been worse.
*
When he gets back to the office, Zayn is busy processing invoices at the same time as trying to entertain Harry, who’s sat on the edge of Louis' desk making a rubber band ball with all of Louis' office supplies. Louis isn’t entirely sure what Harry does for the company; sometimes he’s in the office, sometimes he’s in the warehouse, but no matter where he is, he never seems to actually be doing anything. Louis isn’t even sure if Harry gets paid to be there. He’ll have to ask Zayn one day.
“Yay, Lou is back,” Zayn says, without looking up from where he’s typing. “Did you get me any tea?”
“I did!” Louis says falsely bright, then sinks down into his seat and buries his head in his arms. “But then I gave it to Liam.”
He hears Zayn laugh, and feels Harry’s hand scratch against the short hairs at the back of his neck as he makes a soft, encouraging sound.
“Did you manage to put your mobile number on the cup?” Zayn asks, and Louis groans, because of course he didn’t. That would have at least made a little bit of sense.
“Oh, Lou,” Harry sighs. “You really are rubbish at this, aren’t you? I mean, Zayn told me but I didn’t realize how bad you actually were.”
“Yes,” Louis says flatly, then remembers Niall and his obnoxious kissing faces. He lifts his head and glares in Zayn’s direction. “Zayn seems to be telling a lot of people a lot of things lately.”
Zayn, at least, has the decency to blush.
“It’s fine,” Louis says, with a sharp nod of his head. He fiddles with his computer and wakes it up so he can maybe do some actual work this morning. “It’s nothing really, I only fancy him a bit. He’s got a girlfriend anyway. Her name is Danielle and she’s a dancer and she’s lovely; I’ve met her loads of times. I’m sure this’ll all blow over soon anyway.”
“Hmm,” Harry says thoughtfully. “Actually, Lou, I’m not really sure that—“
“Boys,” Simon lets himself into the office. Zayn straightens up so quickly he nearly knocks every file he’s been working on onto the floor, and even Harry has the self-preservation to discreetly hide the rubber band ball he’s been making behind his back. “I’ve come so you can tell me about all the work you’ve done this morning.” And that, pretty much ends any talk about Liam Payne for the rest of the day.
*
The next few days are uneventful, if only because Zayn had gone on a last minute holiday with Harry to use up his remaining leave. Louis loves Zayn but he doesn’t mind having the office to himself for a bit. Zayn is distracting, and messes around, and is always ringing Niall up and laughing like an idiot about something ridiculous, or phoning Harry to come and visit them and then not doing any of his work for the entire time Harry’s there.
Louis gets all the invoices filed. He makes his trips back and forth to the warehouse without any ribbing on either side of the trip (and if he’s a bit disappointed that he doesn’t run into Liam during any of these trips then at least there’s no one to witness it). He unpacks the Office Depot delivery and steals a pack of the really nice black pens that he likes to keep at home. He books the hotel function room for the Christmas party, and confirms the menu. Before he knows it, the party is only a week away, and he needs to wander around handing out invites to all the different departments and trying to get a general headcount for who’s coming.
And if he goes to the warehouse first, well, that’s just because it’s closest.
“Hey, mate!” Niall calls from behind a towering stack of boxes. Louis never understood how Niall ended up in the warehouse in the first place - he’s not any bigger than Louis, and Louis couldn’t manage to lift half of what Niall does – but when he asked Zayn about it, Zayn just kind of leered and made some vague, you don’t know the ridiculous things Niall can do with his body comment that had Louis wanting to bleach his brain for days. “Are you here looking for Liam?”
“No, ssh! God!” Louis peers around to make sure no one’s heard but all he can see is Andy standing off to the side, looking slightly creepy and confused. It’s a typical look for Andy, though, so Louis doesn't pay him any attention. “Can you keep it down? I’d rather the whole world not know that I—“
“That you what?”
Louis whips around at the familiar voice and instantly feels his insides twist up in knots. “Hey, Liam,” he says weakly, because of course Liam is standing right behind him. “You alright?”
Liam beams at him, wide and so happy his entire face crinkles with it. “I’m good, Louis, you?”
“Yeah, um. Good. I’m good. Just, you know…” he trails off, grinning awkwardly. No one is saying anything: Liam is quiet and Andy still looks confused and Niall is covering his mouth and laughing hysterically. “I have invites!” he blurts out. He waves his file around in the air and a few of them slip out and flutter to the floor. “They’re for the, um, party next week. The Christmas party.” He kneels down to scoop up the invites he’s lost, but Liam takes that exact moment to try and help and of course they bang heads on the way down.
“Owwww,” Louis says, rubbing his forehead. He hears Liam chuckle, and when he opens his eyes their faces are only inches apart, Liam’s eyes so much softer and darker brown up close. “Um.”
Liam smiles slowly, then so quietly Louis is sure he’s the only one that can hear, he whispers, “Hi again.”
Louis’ face feels so hot he’s amazed flames haven’t burst from the top of his head yet. It’s both the best and worst thing ever to be this close to Liam: Louis can’t decide if he wants to stay kneeling on the floor having whispered conversations with Liam for the rest of his life, or if he wants the floor to open up and swallow him down, never to be seen again. He tries to think of something flirty to say: Hi yourself or, Hi back, but instead he winds up just sitting there with his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Liam giggles at him - actually giggles - then stands up with Louis’ invites in one hand and his other held out to help Louis up. Louis waves him off because honestly, this morning has been horrifying enough already - there’s no need to start touching Liam now on top of it – and then he’s finally standing up again and glaring at Niall, who’s close to rolling around on the floor in hysterics.
“Niall, are you all right, mate?” Liam asks curiously, which just makes Niall laugh harder and Louis glare at him from over Liam’s shoulder.
“Yes, Niall, do you need me to get you something?” Louis suggests, voice falsely sweet. “A drink of water? Some smelling salts? A nice swift kick in the—“
“Nope! I’m good!” Niall finally manages. He’s wheezing a little and wiping the tears away from his eyes, but Louis manages to ignore him. Liam has handed Louis back all of his stuff, and he needs to carry on confirming the head count and moving on with his day. “Did you need something, Lou? I think Paul is over—“
“I don’t need Paul. Well not yet, actually. I suppose I do need to find out if he’s coming to the party as well at some point.”
“The party?” Liam asks.
Louis takes a steadying breath; finally, a semi-normal conversation. “Yes. I’m trying to go around and get a rough count of how many people are going to be attending the Christmas party next week. I’ve got a list somewhere in this whole mess of things,” he says and shuffles through his file. He knows he had a group for the warehouse employees but since he dropped them everything is a right mess. After a few seconds Louis gives up and shoves everything back in as he shrugs. “Oh well. I can’t seem to find it anymore. Doesn’t matter, really. I'll remember and do it when I get back to the office.”
“Will you, though?” Niall teases. Louis has a strong desire to hit him in the balls. “You’re sure you’re going to remember?”
“I think I can manage,” Louis says, narrowing his eyes. “For instance Niall, are you coming? Bringing someone? Should I reserve a seat for your imaginary girlfriend or a blow up doll or…” Louis grins as he trails off. Beside him Liam laughs a bit louder than Niall appreciates, if the way he’s glaring at them is any indication.
“I’m coming, yeah,” Niall frowns.
“By yourself?” Liam asks. “Are you sure?” He bats his eyes and Louis doesn’t know Liam well at all, but he can tell Liam’s about to take the piss out of him about something. “Because if you can’t get anyone to go out with you, I’m sure I could pay one of my sisters for the night.”
Niall starts throwing things at Liam as hard as he can: paper, pens, empty cans of pop. Liam laughs hysterically, jumping around trying to avoid him, and Louis decides that when he gets back to his office he needs some time to choose a nice graveyard plot for himself because if Liam insists on being fit, sweet, charming, funny, and yet somehow he can still be a dick to his friends, Louis might very well have to kill himself over Liam’s perfection. It's the only answer.
“And, erm, you Liam?” Louis asks over the noise of Liam and Niall jumping around and shouting at each other. “I’ll put you down for two, yeah?”
“Oh, just one for me,” Liam answers. He’s got his arm around Niall’s neck in a headlock and Niall is flapping his arms like an uncoordinated chicken.
And…oh. Just—“Just one?” Liam nods and laughs until his eyes crinkle in the corners as Niall tries his best to shove Liam off of him. Louis is so confused by the “just one” answer he fails to pay proper attention to the way Liam’s shirt sleeves are stretched over his and the same across his chest as he bodily holds Niall down, which is a pity. “Is, erm, is Danielle busy that night?”
“Oh, I don’t actually know,” Liam says, loosening his arms. Niall flails around once more before flopping to the floor. “We broke up two months ago.”
Louis stares at him, blinks, and promptly turns on his heel and all but runs back to his office.
*
Louis doesn’t even make it halfway back before he’s pulling his mobile from his pocket and dialing Zayn as quick as he can. The phone rings a few times and then there’s a shuffling sound and some background laughing and Zayn yelling, “Louis! Vas happeninggggggg!” into the phone.
Louis frowns. “Are you pissed already? I thought you were back today. It’s not even twelve o'clock.”
“We got back first thing, and no, we’re not pissed,” Zayn says. There’s a pause and then Louis hears him burst out laughing along with someone Louis assumes is Harry in the background. “Me and Haz are getting tatted.”
“Oh my god, are you two ever going to stop?” Louis rolls his eyes. He makes it to the office and opens the door just long enough to chuck the folder with the invites onto his desk, and grab his car keys and jumper before leaving again. “Never mind, where are you? I’ll meet you for lunch; I have to talk to you.”
“Harry too?” Zayn asks, and then Louis hears a muffled thump and Harry shout, Hey! Of course me too! Where are we going?
“Yes, fine, Harry too. Bring the bloody Queen if you want,” Louis tells him, “I don’t care. I just have to talk to you.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure” Zayn says and rattles off the name of a cafe not that far from the office. “We’ll see you in twenty.”
*
“I can’t believe you didn’t know!” Harry says for the third time, and Louis doesn’t stop wanting to hit him. They’re all sat at a small table in the cafe but Louis has opted for glaring at Zayn and Harry instead of eating. Zayn at least has the decency to look apologetic. Harry has no such look. “Everyone in the warehouse was talking about it. Liam was a right mess for a little bit but he’s fine about it now.” He takes a huge bite of his ham and cheese sandwich and chews slowly. “Huh. It's funny you didn’t know.”
Louis grits his teeth. “It is, yes. Bloody hilarious.”
“What,” Harry blinks. “You don’t think it's funny?”
“No, Harry, I really don’t,” Louis scrubs a hand through his hair.
Harry shrugs. “I dunno, I think it’s funny. And maybe it’s a good thing, right? Now you can make your move or whatever.”
Louis sighs. He doesn’t know why this is stressing him out so much but it is. “I’m not going to…make a move or whatever you said. That’s stupid.”
“Why is it stupid?” Harry looks genuinely confused.
“Because, Haz,” Louis tells him slowly. “First, it’s a huge jump to go from not going out with Danielle any more to getting with a bloke. I don’t even know if he does that.”
“Oh, he does,” Harry tells him, voice certain. Louis looks over at Zayn who just shrugs. Harry is grinning and there’s a bit of lettuce stuck to his lip. “Trust me,” he says and leers and oh my god, really?
“Harry!” Louis scolds.
Zayn bumps his fist into Harry’s and honestly, when is Louis going to get new friends?
“Just kidding, Lou!” Harry rushes to reassure him. “I'm kidding! I swear I’m joking.” Louis isn’t certain he’s buying it but he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore to find out. “But I do know that he's fine with blokes, so there’s at least that bit of info, yeah?”
Louis drops his head into his hand. “I suppose.”
“And, oh, did I tell you that me and Nick are coming to the party too? Because we are, so I can, whatever, help you out that night.”
“Oh god,” Louis moans. “Please, please don’t.” It takes a second for all of Harry’s words to actually register and when they go Louis raises his head long enough to blink in Harry’s direction. “And anyway, why are you coming to the party? Do you even actually work with us?”
Harry doesn’t answer, just grins again and says, “There’s going to be an open bar, right?” and Louis gives up.
*
The days leading up to the party pass quickly in a haze of menu choices and music selections and fights over decorations, and by the time Louis is actually dressing in a festive red shirt and his Christmas patterned braces, he’s ready for the party to just start.
“You look great, Lou,” Zayn says, sliding up behind him at the mirror in the gents. The party officially starts at seven so they’re both finishing getting ready at the office before heading over. Louis takes in the bright blue shirt that Zayn’s rolled up to the elbows to show off all of his ink, and the tight fit of his trousers, and raises his eyebrows.
“You too, Malik.”
Zayn continues to smooth over his quiff, never once looking Louis in the eye.
“Any reason you’re getting yourself all dressed up?”
Zayn shrugs. “Nah,” he says, then leers at Louis in the mirror, and the next thing Louis knows Zayn is pinching him on the arse. “But it never hurts to be prepared, yeah? Just leaving my options open.”
Louis rolls his eyes, because honestly, if Zayn wants to pull, all he really needs to do is cock his hips in someone’s direction and fix them with that stupid smolder Louis has seen him practicing in the mirror since he was sixteen, and they’ll be his. He loves the fact that Zayn still thinks he needs to try so hard.
“What about you?” Zayn asks. Louis purposely concentrates on gathering his work clothes into a bag and packing up the rest of his toiletries. “You plan on doing something about the Liam situation tonight?”
“Ugh, no,” Louis says firmly. “And I’d appreciate it if you and Harry stopped calling it a situation.”
“But it is,” Zayn says seriously. He blinks his big eyes and Louis has to resist the urge to push his face into the sink. “It’s actually a pretty dire situation, Louis, the way that you love him so much—“
“I do not love him!”
“—and won’t do anything about it—“
“Oh my god, you are ridiculous! What am I supposed to do about it!”
“—so maybe me and Harry and Niall thought that you might need a little bit of help, that's all.” Zayn finishes with a beam, and Louis’ stomach sinks.
“No,” Louis says, and jabs his finger into Zayn’s chest. He’s actually petrified thinking about what Zayn and Harry would consider helping. “Just – whatever you lot have thought of, the answer is no.”
“Don’t worry, Lou,” Zayn says. He pats Louis’s shoulder hard then squeezes. Louis is fairly certain that this is what imminent death by embarrassment feels like. “Everything will be fine,” and with that he breezes out the door and takes off too fast out into the car park for Louis to follow him.
Well, crap.
*
The party is a huge success. Louis knows it even without the droves of people who insist on stopping by to tell him what a fantastic time they’re having, or insist on buying him a drink or a shot for all of his troubles once the open bar is finished. Even Simon gives Louis a genuine hug and murmurs a congratulations in Louis’ ear about planning the perfect party, and Louis is thrilled – full out beaming and happy as well as vaguely drunk after mixing his drinks all night – and he nearly forgets about Zayn and Harry and Niall and Liam and his situation, as everyone is insisting on calling it. Louis almost forgets about Liam being there full stop, he’s having so much fun, but halfway through the evening as Louis is leaning up against the bar and watching the rest of SC Furniture drunkenly dance to Walk This Way, Liam sneaks up next to him and puts a warm hand on Louis’s shoulder.
“The party is fantastic,” Liam says, and Louis nearly jumps out of his skin, because shit.
“God, Liam, you scared the piss out of me.” Louis puts a hand to his chest and tries to keep his heart from pounding out of his ribcage.
Liam’s mouth tips down at the corners. He looks genuinely upset for startling Louis and Louis would happily undergo real pain to stop Liam from ever looking like that again, like walking barefoot over Lego bricks or on really pointy gravel.
“Sorry,” Liam apologizes. He moves in even closer – Louis can feel all along his side where they’re pressed together – and his breath tickles Louis’ ear. “I just – you did a great job with this all. Do you organize it every year?”
Louis downs the rest of his pink fizzy cocktail in one gulp and waves over his shoulder to the barman for another. “I do, yeah. And thanks. You just startled me before, but—“ he braces himself and looks up into Liam’s eyes. “Thanks.”
Liam smiles at him, and he’s just so fit. He’s got beautiful eyes and a gorgeous smile and shoulders that go for miles, but more than that he’s nice. He’s kind and considerate and Louis honestly has to stop thinking about how wonderful Liam is because if he doesn’t he might do something horrible like tell Liam that and that would be a catastrophic.
Louis’ drink is ready and he picks it up to take a long swallow. Liam is drinking something that suspiciously looks like just Coke, but before Louis has a chance to ask him about it, Nick and Harry waltz past in a bizarre attempt at something off Strictly Come Dancing .
“Lads!” Harry shouts. “Are you having fun?”
Louis lifts his glass in a toast. “Great fun, Harry. And you?”
“Loads!” Harry says happily. Nick nods and grins and spins Harry into some fancy dip, then leans down to…lick his collarbone? Chew on his hair? Louis isn’t entirely sure, and from the look on Liam’s face and the way his cheeks are flushed hot and pink, he doesn’t know either.
“I’ve got mistletoe down my trousers,” Harry informs them cheerily. He’s standing up again now and grinning, a bright red bruise already forming on his throat in the shape of Nick’s mouth. “Have any of you lads got any mistletoe?”
Louis slaps a hand over his eyes and he hears Liam shift awkwardly next to him.
“Erm,” Liam says.
“Mistletoe is fantastic,” Harry says, and my god, is he just going to keep talking? Nick is giggling, with his face buried in the curve of Harry’s neck, and Louis can feel Liam shaking silently with laughter next to him. “You know how mistletoe works, right, Lou? If you get caught under it—“
“I’m fully aware of the rules of mistletoe, yes,” Louis says firmly. “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry beams up at them then licks his way into Nick’s mouth. Louis stares up at the lights up above him, then down at the shine of his shoes on the floor. Liam’s feet are crossed at the ankles next to him and when Louis looks up, Liam’s watching him with a shy smile.
Louis catches Harry glancing back and forth between Louis and Liam, before pulling out his mobile and sending a message. Before Louis has a chance to ask Harry what he’s doing, Harry grins. “Anyway, we’re going to go take care of my mistletoe problem in the loo,” Harry tells them, then nearly trips over his feet as Nick waves goodbye to them and drags Harry out of the room and towards the gents.
The silence after they leave is heavy and awkward until Louis whispers, “Wow,” under his breath, and Liam erupts in giggles. Louis tries to keep his composure but then Liam starts gasping about mistletoe down Harry’s trousers and Louis can’t hold it anymore and he leans his head down on the bar and laughs so hard he nearly cries.
“My god, how do you all put up with him where you are?” Louis asks. When Liam doesn’t answer right away he looks up and finds Liam watching him curiously.
“What?”
“In the warehouse; how do you lot manage to get anything done with Harry around?”
Liam blinks and shakes his head. “Louis, Harry doesn’t work with us.”
Louis cocks his head to the side. “He doesn’t?”
“No,” Liam tells him. “I always thought he worked with you and Zayn.”
This is priceless. “No,” Louis says slowly, because oh my god. Does Harry even work with them? What is he doing there every day? Does he even have a job? Louis really needs to find Zayn and ask him. “I actually don’t know if he even works for us, Liam.”
“But – but that’s ridiculous!” Liam splutters. “He’s in the warehouse every day!”
“And the office too! I just.” Louis feels his face scrunch up. It’s entirely possible he’s too drunk to be trying to figure this out right now. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can think about this right now.”
Liam laughs softly and before Louis realizes what’s happening, Liam’s hand is on the back of Louis’ neck, and he’s rubbing his thumb over Louis’ skin, his fingers squeezing gently. Liam tips his head closer and opens his mouth to say something, but all Louis can hear are the warning bells and whistles in his head screaming: DANGER, DANGER, RED ALERT, RED ALERT, and when his mobile buzzes in his pocket he jumps about three feet away from a very confused-looking Liam.
Louis fumbles with his mobile to find a text from Zayn.
meet me in the hall by the coat cupboard asap ; ) xxx
And thank god, finally Zayn is helping Louis’ with his situation. Not that he knows he’s doing it but still; this is probably as close as Zayn will ever get to helping Louis with Liam. Louis will take what he can get.
“It’s, erm, Zayn,” Louis says. He shoves his mobile back in his pocket and tries not to notice the disappointed look that flashes over Liam’s face. “I’ve got to go meet him about, um, something, so. Um. I’m going to go.” Louis barely waits for Liam to wave him off before turning on his heel and leaving the room so quickly it could probably be considered a sprint.
*
Louis gets to the coat cupboard, but there’s no one there. He looks around a bit and calls for Zayn once or twice, but when it’s obvious he’s alone, he pulls his mobile out and texts Zayn back: I’m here where r u?? and waits for an answer.
Louis is just about to go wander around and see if there’s another coat cupboard that he’s supposed to be at instead, when he hears footsteps, and honestly, it’s about time.
“For a guy who texted me it sure took you long enough,” Louis says, but he trails off awkwardly when it turns out it’s not Zayn standing in front of him, but Liam.
“Oh. Erm. Hello,” Liam says. He peers around awkwardly. “Is Niall here?”
Louis has a bad feeling about this. A very, very bad feeling. “No,” he says slowly. “Did Niall text you and ask you to meet him here?”
Liam nods. “Yeah. I mean, unless I’m at the wrong coat cupboard or—“
“No,” Louis sinks to the floor. He sits against the wall and leans his head back. “I’m pretty sure this is where you’re supposed to be.”
Liam is still watching him, looking even more confused, but then he joins Louis on the floor, sitting cross legged in front of him, close enough that their knees touch.
Louis closes his eyes. “Zayn Malik,” he shouts into the empty hall. “I am going to kick your skinny arse from here to next Tuesday over this, you hear me?”
Louis isn’t sure, but he can swear he hears giggling. The next thing he knows, his mobile is buzzing again, but this time it’s joined by a second buzz, and Louis sees Liam reaching for his own mobile, and oh god. Oh god, please no.
look up
Louis stares at the two words on his phone’s screen and then immediately looks up at the ceiling. From the corner of his eye he sees Liam do the same, and when Louis finally finds what he’s apparently supposed to be looking for, all he can think of is how small he’ll have to chop up Zayn’s body so that the pieces will never be found.
“Huh,” Liam says conversationally, “would you look at that.”
And yep. Louis is looking at it all right. “Good Christ, I hope that’s not the same piece that was in Harry’s trousers.”
Liam laughs a little and shifts closer, and well, that – Louis doesn’t really know what to do with that either.
Louis looks away from the mistletoe and back to where Liam is watching him carefully. He drops his hands into his lap and digs his fingers into his thighs and tries to think of any way to make this scenario less horrifyingly awkward than it is right now. Sadly, he can’t think of a single way to make that happen, and then – as if things aren’t terrible enough – Liam starts talking about it.
“So, I didn’t actually think anyone was going to go the mistletoe route,” Liam says. Louis tries to smile and holds his hand up to signal Liam to stop but Liam just barrels over him, shaking his head and twisting his hands together in his own lap. “I mean, I asked Niall for help and I assumed he’d talk to Zayn and Harry but I didn’t really expect—“
“Wait,” Louis interrupts. He’s trying to listen to Liam and process what he’s saying, but nothing is making much sense. “What did you ask Niall for help with?”
Liam snaps his mouth shut and watches Louis instead. He smiles a little, just the edges of his mouth and the corners of his eyes crinkling, but then he looks down and fiddles with a thread on the hem of his shirt. “Well, erm, with you. Talking to you, I mean.”
Louis makes a weird choking sound in the back of his throat. “You asked Niall for help to figure out how to talk to me?” he asks slowly because this can’t be happening; he can’t believe it. All he can think is that this is a joke of some kind, that Zayn and Harry and Niall are taking the piss, and if that’s the case Louis will actually kill them all until they are dead. There will be no other option.
Liam isn’t acting like it’s much of a joke at all. He gets to his feet and starts pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair and huffing. “I know it was stupid and I didn’t think--but I never expected they would do something as stupid as this,” he says and flings his hand up toward the ceiling when the mistletoe is silently mocking them. “I can just never think of a reason to come and talk to you at work, and when you come over to us I always manage to act like a complete tit, and—“
Louis doesn’t mean to but he actually laughs at that, so loudly it startles Liam into silence.
Liam narrows his eyes and frowns. “What?”
“You act like a complete tit?” Louis shakes his head and stands up, brushing off the back of his trousers as he goes. “Liam. I can barely manage to string together two sentences when I see you at work. I drop things all over the place.” He flaps his hands in the air. “I give you Zayn’s tea to drink. Repeatedly. I just – if anyone acts like a tit, it’s me.”
“No,” Liam says, shaking his head. “Can’t be. It’s definitely me.”
“No way,” Louis argues. “Me. I’m the worst.”
“Actually, Louis, I think—“
“FOR THE LOVE OF THE QUEEN, YOU’RE BOTH COMPLETE TWATS,” Zayn howls from somewhere down the corridor. Louis snaps his mouth shut and glares into the distance while Liam spins in circles looking horrified.
“IT’S MISTLETOE,” they hear Niall call. “JUST SNOG ALREADY SO I CAN GO BACK TO THE PARTY AND GET ANOTHER PINT.”
Louis sucks in a breath. He looks at Liam, then up at the mistletoe, then lets his gaze flick down the corridor to try and see if he can figure out where Zayn and Niall are hiding. He licks his lips and says, “Um,” and it’s as if the noise snaps Liam out of some kind of trance, and all at once he’s grabbing Louis’ wrist and pulling him away from the coat cupboard and toward the front door. Louis trips over his feet trying to keep up, but honestly, having Liam tug him around the hotel is possibly the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, so he’s not going to complain.
The get to the door and Liam kicks it open and drags Louis out behind him. Louis can’t decide for the life of him what’s going on – are they leaving? Are they just seeing what the weather's doing? – but then Liam is pulling him outside, and Louis’ breath puffs out into a cloud in the cold night air.
“Liam,” he says, as they start to walk. “Where are we going?”
Liam throws Louis a calculating look over his shoulder, and the next thing Louis knows he’s being pushed round a corner and up against a wall, the rough brick of the hotel sharp against his back.
“I’m sorry,” Liam says. It’s dark and cold outside, but the air is clear and crisp and the street lights are shining overhead. For a change, it isn't raining. “I know it was warmer inside, and possibly more romantic with the mistletoe and everything, but I’ve been wanting to do this for so long and I don’t think I could manage with Zayn and Niall hiding around one of the corners and—“
“Liam,” Louis says his voice sounding calmer than the panic he feels bubbling deep in his chest. “What are you talking about?”
Liam takes a deep breath – in and then out – and then he’s setting his shoulders and leaning in, and before Louis has a moment to think, Oh, Liam is leaning in and kissing him. Liam is kissing him, and Louis has been wanting Liam to kiss him for so long he can’t even process if the kiss is good or bad and he forgets, for a second, that he’s supposed to be kissing Liam back. Louis manages to snap out of it and lean into Liam’s space a bit more. He bunches his hand in Liam’s shirt and licks across the seam of Liam’s mouth and Liam groans a little, the vibration rattling against Louis’ chest where they’re pressed together.
Liam, as it turns out, is damn good at kissing.
His hands are huge and when he slides them into Louis’ hair Louis can feel the rough skin of his fingertips drag across Louis’ cheek and over the shell of his ear. He tilts Louis’ head to the side and his lips are firm, not gentle and tentative, but sure and knowing. Louis goes boneless under Liam’s hands and mouth, trapped between the cold building and the heat of Liam’s chest. He presses up on his toes and swallows Liam’s moan when he curls his fingers over Liam’s hips, pulling him in and slotting their thighs together.
The party had been going pretty well for Louis already, but kissing Liam outside in the cold winter air has pushed it right over into fucking stellar
When they finally break apart, Liam’s cheeks are flushed and Louis isn’t sure if it’s from the temperature or the kiss or both. He bites his lip and smiles softly, and when Liam curls their fingers together, and leads Louis into the car park Louis just goes. He’s pretty sure he’d go wherever Liam led him.
“Um, are we—“
“We’re leaving, yes,” Liam says. He stops then and looks a little worried. “I mean, if that’s all right? I just really want to—“
Louis looks over his shoulder and stares back at the hotel. He has things to do inside. He’s got to make sure the DJ gets paid and that no one dances on the tables, and organize the goddamn raffle, but when he looks back from the hotel over again to Liam and finds Liam wanting him with that soft smile he thinks: fuck it. Zayn can take over. It serves him right for trying to set Louis and Liam up like that in the first place, the tosser.
“That’s perfect, actually,” Louis says. Liam flashes him a smile bright enough to light up the entire night sky, and Louis is sure he's made the right decision.
They’re on their way through the car park when Louis spies Harry pressed against Nick’s chest on the bonnet of a Range Rover. Louis whistles and Harry looks over at them, his eyes darting from their faces down to their linked hands then back up again, and full on beams, his grin wide.
“I see the mistletoe worked!” he shouts out, and oh god, Louis had nearly forgotten. From the way Liam shudders next to him, he must have forgotten too.
“That was, erm, different mistletoe, right, Harry?” Liam calls out. Harry just grins and waggles his eyebrows, and Liam opens his mouth to say something else, but Louis shushes him.
“No, Liam, god, please don’t ask him again,” Louis whispers. “I don’t want to know.”
Liam laughs and they walk on, but just as they’re about to be out of Harry’s line of sight, Louis stops walking and calls out to him again. “Hey, Harry, can I ask you something?”
“Yep.”
Louis glances at Liam, and Liam grins and nods encouragingly. “Harry, do you actually work with us?”
Harry tips his head back against Nick’s chest and starts laughing. “Sort of?”
Louis narrows his eyes. “What does sort of mean?”
“Um, well,” Harry grins as he slips away from Nick and walks over to Louis and Liam, shaking his fringe out of his eyes. “Kind of. I mean, I work there. I just don’t do any work that you can see? I mean.” He ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck, then looks up and smiles at them both cheekily. “I own the company.”
Louis blinks, and he hears Liam gasp, and sees Nick bent at the waist laughing. “What?”
“Well, me and my mum, actually,” Harry says, and oh, sure, well that’s all right then. Perfectly normal. “That’s what the S and C stand for in SC Furniture. Styles and Cox. Like Harry Styles and Anne Cox. Um.”
Louis is speechless. He had no idea it was possible until this moment but there it is; he actually has no idea how to make words. “You…”
“Own the company.”
“So you’re kind of like—“
“Your boss, yeah,” Harry says then scrunches his face up. “Oops?”
“Erm.” Louis looks down at his hands then up at the sky. Beside him, Liam’s mouth is opening and closing but no sound is coming out. Louis sympathizes. “Sorry about stealing all the company pens?”
Harry pretends to narrow his eyes and glare at Louis but he can’t manage it. He barely lasts a second before he’s clapping Louis on the shoulder, and grabbing him and Liam into huge hugs. “No worries, I steal shit all the time,” he tells them. When he pulls back his eyes are wide and blinking. “And oh, you can’t tell anyone about the mistletoe down my trousers, all right? That might not go over too well.”
And, oh god, between the mistletoe, Zayn and Niall, kissing Liam, and now the news about Harry, Louis has no idea how this night has existed in real life. He has no clue how to process this much information at once, and decides that instead he’s just going to go home after everything is said and done and sleep for a week. It’s the only option.
Louis and Liam say goodnight to Harry and Nick (after Harry reminds them not to be late to work on Monday and waits until they’re both properly horrified before shooting finger guns at them and exclaiming, “Gotcha!” with a wide smile), and wander off towards Liam's car in stunned silence.
“So, um, did you want to maybe come back to mine for a little while?” Liam asks. Louis can’t believe this is happening. He can’t believe that Liam kissed him, that Liam asked the lads for help to figure out how to talk to Louis. He looks up into Liam’s eyes and takes in the pink of his cheeks, the knuckled grip he has on the window frame of his car, and Louis can’t stop himself: he pushes up to kiss Liam soundly on the mouth, touching the edge of his jaw gently.
“Yes. Definitely,” Louis says, and Liam smiles.
“I have to warn you my flat’s not all that special,” Liam says.
Louis waves him off. “It’ll be great, Liam. I can’t wait,” he says quietly.
Liam beams. “Good,” he says and Louis has to laugh. He has no idea how he got so lucky. “If you want I could always run back inside and steal the mistletoe from the coat cupboard to make it a little more festive.”
Louis bites his lip and smiles. When Liam smiles back, it’s like Louis has got every Christmas gift he’s ever asked for all at once. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Louis says, and from the way Liam leans down and kisses Louis again, Louis is pretty sure he agrees.
-end-