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1.
Louis watches Harry stumble out of the car the minute they’re parked, taking shaky steps up to their flat while the other boys look on, worried.
He follows him inside and when he hears the retching from the bathroom, Louis knows this one is bad.
He waits, because they have a system for this, for Harry to come back out and watches him wobble down to their bedroom. Then he heads in and cleans up where Harry missed the toilet because even though Harry promises to do it later, just let me sleep it off, I’ll get it, Louis just doesn’t have the heart to make him do it. He grabs a water bottle and painkillers, just in case.
Harry is lying with his head buried in his arms, still in his blazer atop the covers. Louis pads around the bed and closes the curtains - the blackout ones he bought on a whim after the second time he and Harry slept on the floor of their bathroom, Harry teary eyed and wincing at the harsh light everything gave off.
The room plunges into darkness and Louis meagerly sits on the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” he whispers, hand on the curve of Harry’s shoulder.
It gets this way sometimes, this bad. When Harry runs himself down and doesn’t stop for anything, straining himself past even when Liam calls it quits. He’s only forced to stop when a migraine hits him and that’s when Louis steps in, taking him home and ignoring whatever management says they’ve got to do, and then they sleep. They have a system for this.
“Hey, come on.” he tugs gently at Harry’s arm. “Let’s get you out of this.”
Harry comes up, rising with Louis’ pulling arms and breathing harshly at the movement. He keeps his eyes closed and his brow stays furrowed, and Louis wants to kiss it away.
He’s happy they’ve come this far. Before, Harry couldn’t stand being touched when he was like this, holing himself up in his room for hours, days, to deal with it alone.
Harry lets out a pained breath at the material dragging over his skin. Louis strips them both down to their boxers and undershirts quickly, before smoothing his hand over Harry’s curls, tilting his head back.
“Water,” and Harry’s pink mouth opens to sip at the bottle Louis offers.
“Good?” Harry gives a quick nod and clutches at Louis’ shirt a little. his eyes stay closed.
“Gonna lay down now,” Louis whispers.
Harry moves painstakingly slow, nostrils flaring at the shift. Louis lays them down face to face and draws the covers up, a tiny whimper of pain escaping from Harry’s mouth.
“Gonna be sick?”
Harry waits, breathing harshly, considering. He croaks out a tiny, “no,” and Louis’ heart clenches.
“Sorry - sorry about-” Harry gasps out, but Louis shushes him quickly.
“Shh, don’t be sorry.” he rubs his thumbs over the bones in Harry’s wrists, his hands, watches the lines on his face smooth out just a little. “S’okay, alright?”
Harry gives a tiny sigh and a smaller nod. He shifts a little and rolls into Louis’ chest and stays there. Louis listens to his breaths even out.
“S’okay,” he mumbles, half asleep. “You’re okay. We’re just gonna nap for a while, just you and me.”
They wake up curled around each other in the middle of the night, stomachs grumbling. they both have various missed calls and messages from the other boys, but Harry’s giggling loudly at something Louis’ just said, so he figures it all can wait.
2.
Paul whisks them all into their respective hotel rooms the second they land and Niall takes two steps inside and flops face down onto the bed with a miserable mrrph noise. He scored the single again and he’s exhausted, coming off a thirteen hour flight from the US straight into Tokyo and he’s not exactly sure how long he’s been up, just that he’s so, so tired and he kind of wants to sleep for the next few weeks.
He flips over onto his back and toes off his shoes, trying to muster the energy to work his way under the covers. The bedspread is scratchy, feels wrong against his skin, and Niall tries not to think of how many beds he’s slept in that aren’t his own - he can’t fathom the number anyway - or how long it’s been since they’ve been home. This is everything he’s ever wanted, this is Japan (who knew anyone would ever want them here, who knew he’d ever make it this far) and Niall never wants to complain, but he’s so far from home and he’s jetlagged and he’s alone and now he’s snuffling wetly into a Japanese bedspread instead of doing something productive like sleeping.
Someone knocks on his door. And knocks and knocks and knocks, an obnoxious intricate pattern that indicates it’s Louis and Niall groans, but he’s not exactly interrupting anything so he rolls out of bed and pulls open the door.
“Niall!” Louis says shrilly and Niall winces. He’s got Harry with him, leaning sleepily into his side where Louis’ arm is wrapped around his shoulders, hiding his face in Louis’ neck. His hair’s all out of sorts, probably from slipping off his beanie. Niall remembers the five of them shuffling into the lobby, Louis herding an exhausted Harry into the elevator with hands on his shoulders and Niall feels a pang of sympathy for him.
“Hey, boys,” Niall says and steps back from the door to let them in. all he really wants to do is collapse back on his bed and he wouldn’t very much mind if Harry wanted to join him. And Louis. Except Louis looks a little manic right now, eyes bright and movements twitchy, all jumpy energy from lack of sleep.
Harry detaches from Louis long enough to give Niall a half-hearted wave before he falls onto Niall’s bed, wriggling into the covers.
“Did you guys need something?” Nialls asks slowly.
Louis slides into the desk chair, propping his feet up and grabbing for the menus littered around him on the table. He doesn’t look up from a room service pamphlet as he says, “Not a thing. Just thought we’d check in, see how the country’s treating you and all that.”
His legs are bouncing dangerously close to a lamp Niall would rather not have to pay for. “We’ve been here for an hour,” he says.
“Exactly! All the more reason to experience this new land together,” Louis says. He peers closely at the menu. “You hungry? We could order some of this stuff.”
Niall doesn’t answer him, just sits down on the edge of the bed. The lump under the covers starts rustling and Harry’s head emerges, gravelly voice saying, “Lou, shush.” His hand comes out and pulls on Niall’s arm, tugs him close and speaks low, like it’s a secret for the both of them, “We’re tired. Wanted to come sleep with you.”
Niall nods at him and Harry falls back into the pillows again. Niall looks back up and catches Louis as he throws the menu in the general direction of the desk, muttering to himself, “Can’t read a damn thing on there anyway.”
Their heads all swivel to the doorway when Niall’s door clicks open again. Liam and Zayn trail in, Liam’s hand on Zayn’s back steadying him when he almost trips over his own feet.
Liam looks to all three of them, stopping in his tracks like he’s gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Right. Well, um. Hi.” Niall beckons them in and tries not to let it show on his face how pleased he is his room is suddenly overrun with bandmates.
“Liam and Zayn! Just in the neighborhood, were you?” Louis says. He’s spinning in the chair now. Niall just hopes he doesn’t get sick.
Zayn only has eyes for the bed, slipping out of his jacket and jeans. Harry makes grabby hands for him, pulling him down onto the bed next to him and curling into his side. Niall smiles fondly at them, looks to where Liam is swaying in the doorway, and starts taking off his own clothes.
“Come on, sleep now, lads,” he says and crawls under the covers, fitting himself along Zayn’s back.
“Right,” Liam says again. He strips down and crawls in alongside Niall, flinging his arm across him and holding onto the hand Zayn doesn’t currently have petting through Harry’s curls. They haven’t shared a bed in a long time and it’s cramped and they’re all probably going to get too hot while they sleep, but Niall doesn’t care; sweating and snoring between the four of them beats struggling to get to sleep by himself, alone and homesick in his room.
Louis’ stopped spinning, staring at them all on the bed. “Come on, lou,” Niall says through a yawn.
“Okay,” he says. he climbs on the other side of Harry, not quite settling down into the bed.
Niall feels Hazy, all warm and surrounded, ready to fall asleep. Zayn’s already snoring a little and Liam buries his face into the back of Niall’s neck, breathing deeply. Louis says, “okay,” again, stiff and jittery, and Niall watches through heavy lidded eyes as Harry shifts back into his chest, pressing a kiss into Louis’ cheek.
“C’mon, you’re so tired,” he hears Harry murmur, and he shuts his eyes as Louis breathes out one final, “okay,” sighing out the word as the last of the tension disappears from his body, falling asleep with the four of them.
3.
Harry’s been working on a good case of the flu all week and Liam’s entrusted Louis with taking care of him by himself, quarantining them to their flat, so there’s absolutely no way Liam is going to get sick. that would be impossible.
It’s only late afternoon when he conks out in front of the TV. He wakes up and feels tired enough for bed, so he hoists himself off the couch and gets dizzy so suddenly he manages to do some impressive arm movements to steady himself before plopping back down where he started. He blinks some, trying to clear his vision, steady himself, and that’s when he feels his shirt, sweat soaked and sticking to his skin a little, even as he shakes and shivers.
It might be possible Liam’s getting a little sick.
He’d rather not bother the boys with it - Louis’ got his hands full with Harry and Niall and Zayn probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he went over and got them all germy - and it’s not bad, he can deal with it himself, so he trudges to his bedroom (successfully, this time) and strips off as many clothes as he can before snuggling into his bed, tucking the blankets in tight around himself.
He wakes up later and his body aches. He twists around in his bed, making a disgusted face at how he’s sweated through the sheets. He fumbles a hand around for his phone to check the time but his limbs are all uncoordinated, flopping around, so he gives up.
A door slams shut in his flat and Liam feels a flare of panic and honestly hopes this is like, a fever dream or something and not someone breaking in to possibly kill and or rob him. He shuts his eyes and hopes they go away.
“Liam?” Louis’ voice calls out, and now he sincerely wishes he was delirious because Liam is miserable and he doesn’t need Louis walking in on him like this.
“Liam, where are you?” Louis’ voice gets closer, coming down the hall to Liam’s room. “I could use your help, I think Harry might be attempting to throw up his entire digestive system, no need to be alarmed - oh, you’re in here.”
Liam keeps his back to Louis and feigns sleep, hoping he’ll go away. “Liam? Bit early to turn in for the night, even for you.”
The bed dips and Liam feels Louis lean over him. “Liam?” he asks again and his hand comes to rest on Liam’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey, you feel really warm.”
Louis rolls him over and Liam can’t really fake it at this point, so he cracks open his eyes to Louis’ concerned face. He opens his mouth to tell Louis to leave him alone and go back to Harry but all that comes out is a pathetic whimpering noise.
“Aw, Liam,” Louis clucks at him and if Liam could he would roll his eyes. Louis’ hand comes up and smooths back his sweaty hair, feels his forehead. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Liam’s only answer is another particularly unhappy noise. Louis looks a little frustrated, which Liam thinks is kind of ridiculous since he’s the one currently dying of illness. “You know you’re not actually indestructible, right? You can get sick, Liam,” Louis chides, and he sounds soft and soothing instead of teasing.
Liam whines again, and he would feel childish except for how his stomach is churning sickly and it feels like his nose is starting to run.
“Oh, you feel really terrible, don’t you, Liam?” Liam nods weakly at him, calming as Louis cards his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp a little.
“You must’ve picked up what Harry’s got. Come on, let’s get you out of this bed. Can you get up?”
Liam turns out to be no help in untangling his body from the sheets, all limp, sloppy movements as Louis props him up. Goosebumps break out along his skin and Liam starts shivering again, but it’s better than the scorching heat of his bed.
“Not so hot now, huh?” Louis says, hooking Liam’s arm over his shoulder to get them both standing.
“Some healthy eater you are, Payne, you’re killing me,” Louis grunts, happy to carry on a one sided conversation. “I’ll get Niall to come change your sheets later or something.”
“Where... where’re we,” Liam tries to stutter out, but his tongue feels too big in his mouth.
“To Zayn’s,” Louis says and slowly starts walking Liam to his front door. “Not gonna have you suffering alone, someone’s got to look after you.”
Liam gives up protesting, clinging to Louis as he walks them down to Zayn’s door and making sure he doesn’t trip over his feet too much. Louis knocks and Liam has a fleeting hope that it isn’t too late and they’re not waking him up.
He snuffles into Louis’ shirt when the door opens.
“Liam’s sick,” Louis announces, and Liam can practically hear the dramatic sadface he’s giving Zayn.
“Is he?” Zayn asks, hand coming out to Liam’s chin to tilt his face up. Zayn looks as concerned as Louis did, giving Liam a calculating look.
“He decided not to tell any of us.” Zayn nods at Louis and Liam wants to say he doesn’t really appreciate being spoken about like he’s not there, but he also wants to fall on the nearest flat surface and pass out and that option is really winning here.
“I’m passing him on to you, is that okay?” Louis asks and Zayn steps back to let them in.
Louis sets him down on the couch, holds him steady so Liam doesn’t tip over. He’s started shivering again, teeth chattering, arms wrapped around his middle.
“Oh,” Louis says, taking in Liam only clad in his boxers.“I forgot to bring you any clothes.”
“That’s alright, I’ve got stuff he can wear.” Zayn scurries off to his room, comes back with a shirt for Liam.
“See? Zayn will take good care of you,” Louis says, running his hands through Liam’s hair again. Liam tries not to lean into the touch too much. “I have to head back now, I’ll bring over some of Harry’s flu meds later.”
Liam shuts his eyes for just a second, opens them when there’s a tap on his shoulder. Louis’ gone and Zayn’s in front of him tugging on his arms saying, “Lift up, Liam,” so Liam does, lets Zayn pull the shirt onto him, feel his hot forehead.
“You hungry? I can make you something,” Zayn says softly and Liam feels sick at the thought of food. It must show on his face because Zayn sits down next to him, tucks Liam in under his arm, and says, “Okay, that’s okay. What do you want, babe? You tired?”
Liam forces out a, “Mhm,” nodding.
“Sleep here? Or in my room?” Zayn asks and Liam whines again because he doesn’t care, he’s just tired and sick and he wants to sleep.
“Okay, shh,” Zayn soothes, rubbing soft circles on Liam’s shoulder.
He gets up again and Liam can hear him rummaging around in his kitchen. He comes back with one of his huge mixing bowls he never uses and sets it down next to the couch. “Just in case.”
He flips the TV on and mutes it, crawling onto the couch and pulling Liam down with him. He covers them both with the blanket from the back of the couch and Liam presses himself into Zayn’s chest, into the warmth of the crook of his neck, relaxes into Zayn running a stroking hand down his back, drawing patterns.
“Don’t get any worse,” Zayn murmurs. “Like, pneumonia or something. Should’ve said you were sick in the first place.”
Liam nods against his neck, feels Zayn’s throat working.
“S’okay,” Zayn says, all slurry and they’re both going to fall asleep like this, and Liam doesn’t even care that he could get Zayn sick, he’s too warm.
“I’ll take care of you,” is the last thing Liam hears before he drops off.
Zayn, somehow, never gets so much as a cold. Niall ends up with bronchitis for a week and a half and grumps around, writing irritably on pads of paper when his voice goes out and his coughing and wheezing keeps him awake until the four of them glomp on him one night, arranging themselves around him in bed and he sleeps well into the next day.
4.
Harry and Zayn are the best sleepers, both able to curl up and fall asleep in minutes almost no matter where they are. There are catalogs of pictures as proof of this on Louis’ phone, grabbing bits of sleep between interviews, at a video shoot, buses, vans.
Until the nightmares start.
Zayn wakes up shaking more nights than not, chest heaving as he sits bolt upright in bed, and, only once, screaming himself hoarse until he heard four pairs of feet tripping through his door.
It goes on for a few weeks like that: Zayn will gasp awake and then get up, padding around his flat until the morning and they’ve got to leave. Liam sleeps over a few times, but it doesn’t help, only serves in Zayn kicking the hell out of him in his fitful sleep before Liam manages to wake them both up properly.
So he fights off Liam and Niall’s concerned looks and Louis’ weird ass herbal sleep tea that Zayn nearly chokes on, seriously, what the fuck, brushes it all off and tells them he’s fine, because he is, he really is, he’s an adult for god’s sake, he’s not going to blubber about his bad dreams; the most he ever says of it is to Harry, who tags along with him once when he goes out for a smoke. Harry questions the bags under his eyes and Zayn mumbles out, “like a horror movie, mate, seriously,” with a half-hearted laugh to joke it off, but he can’t ignore the way Harry eyes him after as his hands shake on the lighter wheel.
Another week, and Zayn is lucky if he gets a few hours a night. He’s falling asleep everywhere but in his own bed at night, heavy eyelids and dark circles dragging him through the days before he finally passes out into blessed sleep for a few minutes, and then jerking awake when the images behind his eyelids turn violent.
They’re heading inside their complex after some tedious label meeting that Zayn tried to stay awake through, he really did (and he would’ve gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for Louis’ shrill Christ, Malik, are you actually napping on that wall right now, because, seriously, his band mates need to learn subtlety) but he’s slumping more with each passing yawn.
They’ve got the rest of the day off, and he trudges up to his door, figures, hey, he can finally catch up on whatever it is he always needs to catch up on while he completely avoids every soft pillow and warm blanket in his flat. He yawns, eyes watering, and then his brain catches up and he realizes he’s been struggling with the lock on his door for the past five minutes.
His head makes a thump noise when he rests it on the door. he’s just going to stand here for a minute, just close his eyes for a second
And then there are hands tugging his keys away and Zayn looks up - well, looks right into curly hair because his band mates lack both subtlety and personal space, and then oh. Harry.
Zayn goes to protest because he seriously doesn’t want to like, hang out right now, he’d rather just be left in misery alone, but Harry gives him a chastising look as he clicks open the door and Zayn is too tired to argue with a look.
They step over the threshold and and Harry prods him along into the bedroom, Zayn confusedly shuffling on his feet. Harry shrugs off his jacket, shirt, and when he goes for his belt Zayn lets out kind of a squawk because what-
“Come on, Zayn” Harry huffs out, like he’s exasperated that Zayn isn’t with the program right now, and he slips out of his pants, making quick work of Zayn’s own clothes with little lift ups and step out, come ons.
Zayn goes along with it, and then Harry has a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back until Zayn lands on his bed and oh. Oh no.
“Harry,” he starts, more desperately than he’d like, but Harry is shoving back the covers and nudging him over, crawling in next to him.
“You can,” Harry says softly and they’re so close Zayn can feel his breath on his neck as Harry lays them down, face to face. “Come on, you can,” again, gentler than before and Zayn wants to shove him and tell him he’s not his mum, he’s not Liam, but he’s so tired.
Harry settles into the pillows, pulling the covers over them. he grabs at Zayn’s hands and they lay like that for a while, Harry’s fingers wrapped loosely around Zayn’s wrists, holding him there sleepily. Zayn breathes out, relaxes some, and snuffles into the warmth of the crook of Harry’s neck, but his stomach still rolls with apprehension, frayed nerves kicking in.
“Go t’sleep, Zayn,” Harry mumbles out, voice rumbling in his chest and Zayn does, finally drifts off, wrapped around Harry, into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
5.
Harry tiptoes into the house, setting his bags down and padding over to the living room quietly. Louis’ passed out on the couch where Harry left him this morning before he had to go meet Liam and Danielle last minute, mouth wide open and glasses askew on his face.
Harry takes the remote from his lax hands, flicks the TV off, and tries to be as gentle as possible as he slips Louis’ glasses off and sets them aside.
Which only succeeds in waking him up. Louis mumbles to himself, eyes scrunching as he shifts around on the couch. Harry sits down, squeezing in next to him on the edge of the cushion, and Louis’ body instinctively curls around him.
“How’d the fitting go?” Louis asks, cracking his eyes open to peer at Harry, his voice slow and soft from sleep.
After all their late nights and early mornings together, Harry still wants to crawl inside where that sound comes from and make a home there.
“Good. Everything’s finally taken care of,” he says, and smooths Louis’ hair back out of his eyes. “So, naturally, Liam’s freaking out.”
Louis’ mouth quirks, eyes blinking slowly. “Not long now until we have to give our little boy away.”
Harry nods at him, watches as Louis tangles their fingers together in his lap. “I have that last thing in the studio next week. You’ll have to pick Niall up when he gets in.”
Louis' only response is a yawn, eyes fluttering closed again.
“Can’t forget like last time, Lou,” Harry says softly.
“Mhm,” Louis says, so so slowly, just a string of sleepy sounds. Harry smiles fondly at him, knows he’s about to drop off again.
“I’ll... remember later.” he grabs weakly at Harry’s arms, tugging. “Come on, lay with me.”
Louis shifts his legs around to make more room, wedging himself into the back of the couch. Harry toes off his shoes and spreads out next to him, Louis pulling him flush against his body, fitting in easily under Louis’ arm and resting his head on his chest. Louis makes a happy little noise, sighing.
“Good?” Harry asks, feeling tiredness pull at him.
“Mm,” Louis answers. his hand strokes up and down Harry’s spine and he kisses his forehead. “We’re good, Haz.”
Their breaths even out, snuggling in closer to each other’s heat, safe and warm and content, and they sleep.