Archive of Our Own

No one could remember who had faded away first. It was like one day they couldn’t be apart for more than a few minutes and the next day they’d forgotten they were ever friends. Niall had tried the hardest to keep them together. His unanswered final text message still sat in all of their phones, though he didn’t know that. He didn’t know that sometimes Harry looked at it with regret. Or that Zayn had been tempted to delete more often than not but for some reason kept it. They didn’t know anything about each other anymore.

Their friendship hadn’t made sense in the first place. It wasn’t like they’d chosen to be friends. They’d been forced into it, really. They’d all been failing year eight maths so Mrs. Miller offered them a chance for extra credit: a group project. The five of them had been thrown together: Louis, Niall, Harry, Zayn, and Liam and told to work together or fail together. They had chosen to work. And they’d worked better together than ever imaginable. They’d hang out for hours after they finished work on the project for the day and kept seeing each other after they’d turned the project in and gotten their grades for the term (all passing).

Something just worked with the five of them. It wasn’t anything they could particularly pinpoint, though Liam had tried. He had attempted to figure out why he felt weird when at least one of the other lads was around but he just couldn’t find the answer. In all honesty they shouldn’t have worked. At all. Louis was loud and in your face most of the time. Zayn kept mostly to himself. Harry talked slower than anyone Liam had ever met. And Niall’s laugh was one of the loudest things Liam had ever heard.

Except Louis was also quiet and soft, strangely vulnerable at times. Zayn was also silly, joining Louis when he got up to his pranks. Then there was the way that Harry’s face lit up when he was talking about something he loved, and that kind of cancelled out the speed at which he talked about that thing. And Niall’s laugh was one of the best things that Liam had ever heard.

So they worked. For no reason other than they just did.

They worked for three more years and then suddenly they just didn’t.

Harry had fallen in with a band and started spending all of his time with them, singing and rehearsing and playing the odd gig. Pretty soon he was skipping lunch with the lads to practice a new song or to just hang out and build up "band chemistry."

Louis had gotten more serious about football. He was promised a starting position on the varsity team if he kept his grades up and trained harder than ever, and before anyone could blink he was practicing for at least two hours every day on his own as well as playing competitively year round. And it paid off, but his friends also paid, getting to spend less and less time with him.

Liam had been nominated Class Representative when they were in year nine and again when they were in year ten and, while he was flattered, he hadn’t quite expected the workload to be as much as it was. Even when he found some spare time to grab coffee or something with one of them, he was texting away trying to organize this fundraiser or secure a DJ for this dance. It wasn’t long before he started grabbing coffee with his Vice President instead of his friends.

Halfway through year nine, Zayn’s teachers figured out that he was a "gifted" student, whatever the fuck that meant. Zayn didn’t really care if he was gifted or not, he just wanted to do his homework, sleep, and be left alone. But his teachers cared and before he could blink they’d moved him into all advanced courses and set him on the fast track to graduate at the top of his class. It wasn’t like Zayn didn’t like school though, and everything seemed easy enough, so he let it happen. And then everything got harder. Zayn started spending more time at the town library than anywhere else and his mobile was just a distraction so it was off more often than not.

Niall was just Niall. He’d never had a problem finding friends wherever he went and high school opened a lot of new friendship doors for him. The upperclassmen thought he was hilarious and his fellow classmates did too. And while Niall noticed that it wasn’t the same, he wasn’t one to pass up on a good time. He was showered with attention, which was what he liked. He liked to laugh and he liked to make people laugh, no matter who it was. Eventually, it didn’t matter who it was.

So it wasn’t like there was this huge blowout or fight or anything where they just decided it would be better to not be friends. It wasn’t as if they didn’t like each other. They just weren’t part of each others lives anymore. It happened all the time. And if they ever missed each other, they just gave it a few minutes and the feeling faded away.

But now it was prom and while Louis thought it was nice, he knew that it could be nicer. He just didn’t know how.

It wasn’t his date. She was gorgeous and witty and clearly interested in him, he just wasn’t interested in her. Not like that, anyway.

"Hello year twelve," the microphone flares to life and Louis looks up to see Harry onstage with his band. "I’m Harry Styles and we are Electric Fireplace and we’ll be playing for you tonight while you eat. Happy prom!"

As they band started playing full force and Harry’s voice rasped through the crowded ballroom that the school had rented out, Louis found himself smiling. He could remember the first time Harry had sung in front of people, because he had been one of them.

----

"You have to promise not to laugh if I suck," Harry pouts at his four best mates.

Zayn looks up from his and Louis’ FIFA match and says, "We promise, Haz. Just get on with it."

"I’m not doing anything until Louis promises," Harry responds and they all laugh.

Louis pauses the game and turned to face Harry, who is leaning back against the pool table Niall has in his basement. Niall and Liam were sitting on the couch behind Zayn and Louis, who were set up on the floor. Zayn snuggled back between Niall’s legs and Liam had his hand in Louis’ hair. "I promise not to laugh."

"Even if I suck," Harry presses.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Even if you suck."

Harry takes a deep breath. "Okay then. Niall?"

Niall gets up - Zayn making a grumpy noise at him - and fetches his guitar from where he keeps it in the corner of the basement. He hops up onto the pool table next to where Harry is leaning and strums a little before looking at Harry. Harry nods and Niall starts playing. Then Harry starts singing:

"I’ve been roaming around,
always looking down and all I see
painted faces fill the places I can’t reach
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use some -

"What?" Harry stops suddenly. "What are those stupid looks on your faces?"

"You’re really good," Liam breathes out. "Like, really, really good, Hazza."

Harry blushes but he still manages to snap. "Don’t take the mick, Liam."

"When has Liam ever taken the mick?" Louis wants to know. "Never. And he’s not doing it now. You’re talented, Harry. Seriously."

Harry looks at Zayn, who shrugs and says, "I’ve heard worse." But he’s smiling in agreement with Louis and Liam.

"See? I told you," Niall gloats from the pool table, where he’s still balancing his guitar.

"Wait, you sang for Niall before you sang for all of us?" Louis asks, affronted.

"Well, yeah," Harry flushes a little. "I had to practice and Niall has the guitar."

"You’re such an arse, mate," Zayn laughs.

"But a talented one," Liam adds, because he always knows the right thing to say.

----

Zayn makes it all the way up until Harry starts singing "Use Somebody" before he needs a fag.

"I’ll be back," he murmurs to Danny who just nods and goes back to texting. Prom wasn’t exactly where either of them expected to find themselves tonight but Ant got asked by that girl he’d been in love with since she’d let him borrow a pencil that one time and he’d somehow talked them into going.

Zayn checks to make sure there are no teachers around, and then slips out one of the sliding glass doors that leads outside. He breathes in deep when he closes the door, trapping the heat and noise of the ballroom behind it.

He walks around the corner of the building, out of sight of any teachers who might peer out of the glass and into the night and finds a gazebo. He figures that’s as good a place as any to light up. He steps up and into the gazebo and then sits on the floor. He wonders if that’s bad for the tux he hired. He pulls out his carton of fags and lights one, taking a deep inhale and relaxing against the side of the gazebo.

"Those’ll kill you, you know," and Zayn doesn’t have to look up to know who has joined him in the gazebo.

"It’s been awhile since anyone reminded me of that," Zayn responds, looking up to smile at Liam.

Liam smiles back down at him. "Mind if I join you?"

Zayn doesn’t really answer but Liam sits down anyway, knowing that Zayn meant yes.

"What are you doing out here?" Liam asks after a minute or so.

Zayn raises his eyebrows and takes another pull of his fag, blowing it out deliberately.

"Oh, right," Liam laughs and rubs the back of his neck, something he does when he’s nervous and suddenly Zayn’s mad. He’s mad at himself for letting Liam drift, for letting himself drift. He never wants Liam to feel nervous around him. Not after everything.

----

"Dare," Zayn says, mostly so Louis will shut the fuck up.

"I dare you to kiss Liam," Louis shoots back immediately leading Zayn to believe he’s a little less buzzed than they all thought he was. They’re all sitting in the living area of Harry’s stepdad’s bungalow, sharing some stolen beers.

"What? Why?" Liam’s voice is really high and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushed red.

"Because I think it’ll be hot," Louis answers simply.

"That’s ridiculous," Liam protests. "You can’t be serious."

"What?" Zayn cuts in, alcohol making him bold. "You don’t want to kiss me? Am I not pretty enough for you, Liam?"

"You know it isn’t that," Liam squeaks at him.

Harry drinks more of his beer, a contemplative look on his face. "It would be kind of hot."

"Really hot," Niall agrees. "Lou’s right, you guys should definitely make out."

"Niall," Louis gasps, but he has this impressed look on his face. "I never knew you were such a perv."

"You started it," Niall sticks out his tongue, completely unaffected in his closer-to-drunk-than-tipsy state. He’s gone through more beers than all of them combined, Zayn is pretty sure.

"C’mon, Li," Zayn puts his beer down and stands up from the floor, keeping his balance easy enough. He hasn’t had that much to drink.

Liam is staring up at Zayn from his seat on the couch next to Harry as Zayn makes his way over to stand in front of Liam. His mouth drops open as Zayn puts one knee on the couch, outside of Liam’s thigh, and then the other, so Zayn’s straddling him.

"Hey," Zayn whispers, leaning in close so just Liam hears him. "It’s going to be fine. Just like with a girl, yeah?"

Except no. Because Zayn is heavier than a girl but it’s a nice weight. And Zayn’s hands are bigger than a girl’s when they come up to cup Liam’s jaw but that’s not bad either. It’s not like with a girl, but it definitely isn’t bad so Liam internally shrugs and externally gives Zayn a smile, gives him permission.

Zayn answers Liam’s smile with one of his own, and leans all the way forward to brush their noses together, bumping Liam’s until Liam tilts his head up a little bit more. Then Zayn presses their mouths together, just lips, and waits for Liam to relax before really kissing him.

Zayn pulls away after a few moments of pretty chaste kissing to grin down at Liam. Liam with his soft lips and big hands, which have found their way under the back of Zayn’s t-shirt.

"I have the best ideas," Louis proclaims from his seat on the floor, a little breathy.

"So Liam," Harry smirks. "Is Zayn a good kisser?"

"Why don’t you come over here and find out?" Zayn challenges and he would say he’s surprised when Harry slides the few inches over on the couch it takes for him to reach Zayn, but Zayn isn’t surprised because it’s Harry and Harry likes kissing more than anyone else Zayn knows. In fact, Zayn realizes the only thing he’s surprised about is that it’s taken Harry this long to try and kiss one of them.

And Harry kisses differently from Liam. Harry is more confident with it, turning the kiss wet and dirty only seconds after getting his mouth on Zayn’s. Zayn has to stop himself from moaning, swallowing it down as Harry’s tongue runs over his teeth. Harry tangles his fingers in Zayn’s shirt and pulls a bit so that their chests are brushing.

"Wow," Liam says where he’s still trapped beneath Zayn’s thighs. "Watching your mates make out is kind of hot."

Harry breaks away from Zayn then to turn to Liam and smirk, before leaning in and licking a stripe up Liam’s neck.

Zayn feels hands tugging him sideways and he goes easily enough, falling into Niall’s lap. Zayn laughs and pulls Niall down into a kiss because he might as well kiss everyone at this point. Niall starts giggling during the kiss and there is too much teeth between them but it’s sweet and it’s playful and Zayn finds himself peppering Niall’s face with small kisses after they’ve drawn away from each others lips.

Zayn props himself up at the sound of Harry’s groan to see Louis and Liam making out quite enthusiastically, Louis having taken Zayn’s place on Liam’s lap.

"We need to take turns, Liam," Louis smirks into his and Liam's kiss.

And there are probably quite a few reasons for why they shouldn't be doing this, but Niall can’t think of any, not with Zayn warm on his lap and his face still tingly from Zayn’s kisses. Not with his thigh pressed up against Louis’ knee and Harry smiling softly at all of them. So Niall does the only logical thing. He holds onto Zayn so he doesn’t slip to the floor, and then leans over to seal his lips against Harry’s.

Niall lets out an audible gasp that has the other boys holding their breath as Harry’s tongue curls its way into Niall’s mouth. And when Harry runs it against the ridges on the roof of Niall’s mouth, it takes everything in Niall’s power not to just push Zayn to the floor and get Harry on his back underneath Niall.

"Hey, hey," Liam interrupts, taking hold of Niall’s chin and pulling him away from Harry. "You havta take turns." He flashes Louis a smug grin and then him and Niall are kissing across Harry’s lap and it’s more like the kiss with Zayn rather than the one with Louis or Harry. Softer, a little more finesse and a little less tongue, but Liam likes it and he thinks that he wouldn’t mind kissing Niall (or Zayn or Harry or Louis) for the rest of the night and maybe the rest of his life. They’re all just such good kissers.

When him and Niall finally come up for air, Louis has moved off of Liam’s lap and Zayn’s moved off of Niall’s, taking up the space that Niall had abandoned when he shifted over to kiss Liam more soundly. Zayn is lying down with Louis on top of him, straddling his hips, as Louis kisses his way up Zayn’s chest through the fabric of his shirt to Zayn’s mouth.

"Lou," Niall breaks in. "We have to take turns."

Louis rolls his eyes and sits up, Zayn chasing after his lips. Louis turns his body as much as he can and pulls Niall into a kiss. Louis’ kisses are sloppy but energetic, Liam knows. He thinks that if kisses had personalities, Louis’ kisses would be just like him.

Harry whines from his place in between Niall and Liam, feeling neglected. Louis turns to make a face at him, hand coming to rest on Harry's thigh to keep his balance. He looks down, then smirks and says, "That's the problem with boys in tight jeans, can't keep anything a secret."

And it's enough to break them all out of it; to make all of them laugh hard enough so nothing feels weird, it only feels easy, the same way things between the five of them have always felt.

----

"So how've you been?" Liam asks after a few minutes of silence that isn't as comfortable as it once was.

"Been good," Zayn answers because he has, but only because he'd forgotten how much better the past couple of years could have been if he'd kept Liam close. If he'd kept them all close.

"Didn't think I would see you at prom," Liam is smiling softly. "Always thought it would be something Louis would have to talk you into."

Zayn chuckles and breathes in another inhale from his cigarette, earning him a disapproving look from Liam. Zayn raises his eyebrows and smirks, and Liam looks away, flushed and apologetic, because he'd forgotten that it isn't his place anymore to make disapproving faces at Zayn.

Zayn's about to say something, something like no, Li, it's fine, or I miss your disapproving faces, but before he can a voice says,

"You're not allowed out here. You I expect this from, Malik, but you, Payne? I thought the Class Representative was supposed to set a good example."

Liam laughs as Zayn takes a drag of his cigarette and blows a "bite me, Styles," out with the smoke.

"Didn't even stay to hear me give an encore, some friends you two are," Harry smiles as if Zayn and Liam hadn't both tensed up at his use of the f-word.

"Shouldn't you be inside catering to your adoring fans?" Liam quips, grinning at Harry.

"I came out for some fresh air," Harry seats himself beside Zayn. "Share, would ya?"

"That's not exactly fresh air, Harry," Liam points out cheekily.

Harry just laughs and turns to Zayn, "Share some non-fresh air with me?"

The corners of Zayn's mouth turn up and he takes a long pull on his fag, nearly down to the filter by now. He turns to Harry and raises his eyebrows in question. Harry just leans closer as answer. Zayn waits until their lips are just centimetres apart, Harry's lips parted in anticipation, before exhaling and releasing the smoke into Harry's mouth. It's more fun with weed, but Zayn remembers that Harry has a thing for second hand smoke, not exactly for what that smoke will do.

"Jesus," Liam mutters, eyes glued to Harry and Zayn. "I'd almost forgotten how hot that was." Liam's eyes widen as soon as he says it, like he didn't mean to say it.

"How very dare you," Harry's tone is mock accusatory.

"Honestly, Liam," Zayn joins in, throwing Liam a wink.

Liam just smiles, "You guys are still the only ones I've ever gotten high with, you know."

And oh, oh. That makes Zayn pause because getting high has never really been anything special for him. He does it when he's with Ant and Danny, or to unwind after an exam, or just because. He's just never really thought about how getting high can be a sign of trust and intimacy. But that's what it was to Liam.

"Li-" Harry starts, sounding like he’s thinking the same thing Zayn is.

"Malik!" a voice calls out, cutting him off. "Why aren't you DJ-ing? You're much better than the bloke the prom committee hired."

"Hey," Liam pouts up at Niall. "We spent a lot of time choosing the DJ."

Niall just snorts and sits down beside Liam, pressing their shoulders together. "You obviously didn't spend a lot of time listening to him. He's awful."

"I wanted to ask Zayn, but I was outvoted," Liam tells him.

"You do still DJ, don't you, Zayn?" Niall turns to him, but his tone says he already knows the answer to his own question.

"Yeah," Zayn answers, tossing his cigarette butt away. "Still just mostly messing around though."

"Not what I heard," Niall raises his eyebrows. "My brother said you've been DJ-ing for his frat parties up at uni. Pretty popular with the sorority girls. And some of the frat brothers, too."

Zayn flushes and mumbles a quick "Fuck off" at Niall.

"Don't act like you don't know you're fit," Harry makes a face.

Before Zayn can answer back, another voice calls over to them.

"Having a reunion without me? You bastards," Louis strolls over, hands in his trouser pockets.

"It was an accidental reunion," Harry assures him.

"Accidental or not, it's not a real reunion without me," he reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a flask. "And it certainly isn't a real reunion without alcohol."

Liam glares. "No. Absolutely not, Louis. You're not even supposed to have that here."

"I should have known the no alcohol rule was one of yours,” Louis twists the top off of the flask. "It's not like we're underage. Totally. Legal." Louis takes a swig from the flask to really punctuate his sentence.

"It's a liability thing," Liam protests. "Stop putting everything on me. Bad music? Liam's fault. No alcohol allowed? Liam's fault. Ungrateful, that's what you lot are."

"Excuse me, Liam," Harry furrows his brows. "I haven't put anything on you. Personally, I think you did a great job picking the opening band."

"I'm starting to proper hate you," Zayn shakes his head at Harry.

"Well could you hate me back inside? It's bloody freezing out here," Harry complains.

"Aw, is the little rockstar a bit chilly?" Louis teases, stepping over Zayn and Liam's legs to plant himself in Harry's lap. "Let me just warm you up then."

"Is there anything even left in that flask, mate?" Niall laughs.

"Enough for you, my little Irish friend," Louis hands Niall the flask and curls in closer to Harry. Zayn reaches out and wraps a hand around one of Louis' ankles, grinning when Louis kicks at this thigh playfully.

"Harry was right," Liam says. "It is a bit chilly. Maybe we should go back in?"

All five of them looked toward the venue, where they could see the lights flashing and their classmates dancing. And then all five of them look at each other, and hesitate. It’s been too long for them to just say what they’re thinking, even though they’re all thinking the same thing.

"I..." Niall is the one who finally breaks their silence. "I kinda don’t want to go back in."

"Me either," Harry agrees instantly. "I don’t want to go back in either."

"We should go somewhere else," Zayn throws in.

Liam hops to his feet, reaches down to pull Niall up beside him, throws an arm around Niall’s neck and says, "Let’s go somewhere else then."

"Don’t you have to, like, be important or something?" Niall asks, turning his face into Liam’s shoulder just a bit.

Liam glances over his shoulder one last time and then shrugs. “I planned the whole thing, I think it’s about time I just start enjoying prom. And I want to do that with you lads.”

Everyone groans and rolls their eyes at Liam’s stupid face and his stupid earnest smile that they had all forgotten they’d missed.

----

It wasn’t like anything really changed after that night. They were still best mates. Now they were just best mates who also made out sometimes. And then they were just best mates who sometimes had a wank together. And then they were just best mates who sometimes helped each other have a wank.

They had lost control of this. Whatever this was. Liam wasn’t really sure. He’d never had friends like these four. His friends had never been touchy feely and they certainly had never offered to make out with Liam for a minute for every answer he got right on his chemistry homework.

“Come on, Li,” Zayn had pleaded with him. “I know you know this stuff. If you get a question right, we can make out. I’ll do that thing with my tongue that you like.”

And Liam couldn’t really argue with that.

“But...” Harry had been the one to protest the first, but Louis just kissed him and whispered,

“Don’t.” And no one had since.

It felt like something they should talk about, something they should discuss and define. Are they allowed to see other people while they’re doing whatever they're doing with each other? Is there going to be some kind of rotating schedule or are they just going to give in every time Harry pouts at them and let him do whatever he wants? Liam doesn’t think that goes along very well with their taking turns rule. Not that he’s complaining when Harry spreads Liam out on the pool table and jerks him off.

And he’s not complaining when Niall pulls him into the loo at school and gets him off in a stall for no other reason then “you looked tense, mate.”

And he’s certainly not complaining when Louis is falling apart with Liam’s hand on his cock, knuckles white as he grips the back of Niall’s couch.

Liam isn’t sure he can do this. But when he sees Zayn reach out and catch Harry when he trips in the hall without even looking up from his phone, and when Niall gives Louis a piggyback ride though the cafeteria earning them both detention, and when he catches them all smiling at each other the same way Liam knows he smiles at them, he is sure that he wants to try.

----

“I have my car,” Harry volunteers from where he’s still buried under Louis. “I needed it to transport equipment earlier, but then Mark’s dad showed up with his truck so they should be fine to get back. I just have an acoustic guitar in the back but I can toss it in the boot.”

“Sorted then,” Louis says, standing. “Let’s go.”

The five of them sneak past the windows, Zayn humming the James Bond theme, - earning him a pinch from Niall - and crawl into Harry’s car, Liam sliding in after Harry moves the guitar.

“I hope you’re better at driving now then you were the last time you drove us,” Niall jeers at Harry from his spot in the back in between Liam and Zayn.

“It’s been two years, Niall, I think I’ve had some time to practice,” Harry throws back and there’s a collective intake of breath in the car as Harry’s words hit them. No one had acknowledged this huge break between them until now. Two years. They’ve missed each other for two years.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Louis laughs, but it’s shaky. “You could have a lifetime and you would still be a shit driver.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Tomlinson,” Harry reaches over and flicks Louis in the forehead, expression fond.

Louis reaches over and turns the radio on in lieu of answering back. The sound of Harry’s voice plays through the car.

“Are you serious, mate?” Zayn leans forward. “Do you listen to your own band when you drive?”

Harry blushes furiously as he pulls out of the carpark and onto the street, reaching over to flip the radio off. “I was just going over stuff on my way here so I didn’t mess up.”

“Young Harold loves the sound of his own voice more than we thought,” Louis turns and waggles his eyebrows at Zayn.

“Well, maybe not more than we thought,” Zayn shoots back. “He was always very vocal.”

“Can’t be any more in love with himself than you are, Zaynie,” Niall comes in. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ve got your back.” Niall leans forward to wrap his arms around the driver’s seat and Harry. It’s an awkward angle and he’s mostly on top of Zayn, but it works.

"That's why you're my favourite," Harry tilts his head to the side to brush his curls against Niall's forearm.

"That's enough of that," Louis reaches over and pinches Niall's arm until he recoils.

Liam pulls Niall into him, "What happened to taking turns?"

"We don't take turns having favourites," Louis sticks out his tongue. "I am always everyone's favourite."

"Yeah," Zayn says, sincerely. "Don't remind us."

Louis turns to smile at Zayn. Zayn just shakes his head, "Fuck off, Lou."

Louis turns back to the front and catches Harry's eye while the other three settle down in the backseat.

"Almost too easy, isn't it?" Louis asks quietly and though the question is for Harry, the car is silent so everyone hears.

Harry grins, turning to smile at Louis, "Always has been."

"Harry!" Liam nearly shouts from the back seat. "Stop sign!"

Harry slams on his brakes as everyone laughs.

----

"Land, sweet land," Niall throws himself out of Harry's car and onto the concrete of the school's carpark.

Liam and Louis slide out of where they had been waiting in Louis' car.

"I offered to pick you up," Louis tells Niall, pocketing his keys.

"Harry was closer, I thought it would be fine." Niall lets Liam pull him up.

Harry climbs out of the car, a pout already in place. "I'm not that bad. Lou's the one with the speeding tickets."

"You are that bad," Louis buries his hand in Harry's curls. "And I haven't gotten a ticket in months."

"Do you think Zayn will be mad at us for lying to him?" Liam asks, looking a little worried as Niall climbs onto his back and Liam lets him.

"Nah, I think he'll just be glad to see us," Harry pockets his own keys and they all make their way inside of the school.

Liam drops Niall at the front entrance so they can all buy their tickets and then they head towards the gym.

"Jesus," Niall whistles.

There is art everywhere. And, yeah, they were at an art show, but Louis hadn't expected there to be this much art or this many people. He doesn't know how they're going to find Zayn in this mess.

"You came!" Zayn exclaims, spotting them not far inside the door. "I knew you guys would come!"

"No you didn't," Louis protests as Zayn pulls him into a hug. "We told you we weren't coming."

"Yeah, like all four of you would just happen to have plans - not with each other, mind you - on the night of the art show I've been talking about for months," Zayn responds.

"Cheeky," Harry says as he pulls Zayn into a hug of his own.

They follow Zayn across the gym to where his art is on display. There is a bit of a crowd there, many of whom congratulate Zayn and shake his hand before moving on.

Louis looks over Zayn's pieces. Most of them are charactertures. He spots one of himself and each of the lads as well as ones of Zayn's friends Ant and Danny. There are other pieces that were clearly class assignments; a painting done in perspective, a charcoal drawing using negative space. Every piece is better than the last. Louis reaches the final piece Zayn has on display and he stops.

It's a much more abstract piece than the others. Louis would think it was done by a different artist if not for the small "ZM" scripted in the corner. The piece is full of colour and light and it makes Louis almost feel the joy Zayn clearly felt when he was painting it. Everything appears to swirl together until you hold your breath and squint just right, and then five distinct figures appear, still swirled together, but singular nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Zayn comes up behind Louis, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist and hooking his chin over Louis' shoulder.

"It's beautiful," and Louis will never admit to having to say that around a lump in his throat. "Everything looks great, Zayn."

They stand there for a moment before Louis swallows the lump enough to ask, "It's us, isn't it?" meaning the painting.

They both turn to see the other three making fun of each others characteriatures.

"Yeah, it's us," Zayn admits softly.

"It's perfect," Louis tells him and means it with all his heart.

"Don't tell the others? I don't want them to think I've gotten soft."

"Fond," Louis nudges their temples together. "The word you're looking for is fond."

Before Zayn can answer, he's pulled away by Liam who smiles a "take turns" at Louis while Niall and Harry take pictures next to their charactertures, imitating them the best that they can.

And, yeah, Louis might have gotten a little fond of them as well.

----

"Where am I driving to?" Harry asks after a few kilometres.

Louis leans in and whispers something in his ear and Harry nods, taking the next turn.

"So what's everyone been up to?" Liam asks after a few moments of silence pass.

"Drinking," Niall tells him, laughing.

"So nothing new there then," Liam nudged the back of Niall's head with his nose.

"My dad left," Louis bursts out and, oh, he didn't mean to tell them that.

Harry turns to Louis, eyes darting back to the road every few seconds. "Lou -"

"-Please say anything except 'I'm sorry,'" Louis interrupted. "I've heard that enough, thank you."

"How are your sisters holding up?" Zayn asks after a moment of silence that is painfully awkward. There had been a time when Harry would have known exactly what to have said, where they all would have known how to make Louis feel better. "Your mum?"

Louis sighs. "They're alright, I guess. It's been hardest on Mum, obviously. She had to get another job and I got my license to help out but it doesn't do much good when you've no car to drive."

"They're lucky to have you, Louis," Liam's voice comes, steady and sure of Louis. "They know you're doing everything you can, too. Just like your mum."

"I just wish there was more I could do, you know?" Louis' voice is sad, sadder than they've ever heard it.

There's a loud thump from the backseat. Harry slams the brakes as four heads snap around to look at Zayn, who just punched the door of Harry's car.

"Mate..." Niall disentangles himself from Liam to lean over and pull the hand Zayn used to punch the car into his own hands.

"Fuck, Haz, I'm sorry," Zayn hasitly apologises to Harry before locking eyes with Louis. "And I'm sorry to you too, Louis. I should have been there for you. I'm so mad at myself. I let myself get caught up in grades and exam stuff and I wasn't there when you needed me. You had to go through all of that alone and I'm so sorry for making you do it by yourself."

"Not your fault, Zayn," Louis whispers. "We had all kind of drifted apart by then. And I wasn't all alone. I had Stan."

"He has a point," Niall says, looking down at where he's still cradling Zayn's hand. "We should have gotten our heads out of our arses long enough to make sure you were okay. Just because we stopped being best mates didn't mean we had to stop giving a shit about each other."

Louis smiles softly. "Let's all just agree we've been complete assholes and shit friends and move on. I don't want to spend tonight regretting things we can't change."

Everyone agrees quietly.

"For what it's worth, Lou," Harry says after he starts driving again. "I really am sorry. He didn't deserve you."

"I know," Louis put his hand over Harry's on the gearshift. "And thank you."

----

The match is a few minutes from starting when Liam, Niall, Zayn, and Harry get there, sweatshirts zipped up tight against the cold and against Louis' gaze.

"What's with the turtlenecks?" Louis asks, jogging over and pulling at Liam's collar.

"It's cold," Harry wrinkles his nose.

Louis rumples Harry's curls and says, "You're always cold, muppet. That doesn't explain why you're all wearing your sweatshirts like you've got a secret."

"We were going to wait until the match started but..." Liam looks to Harry, Niall, and Zayn who all shug. "I guess we can show you now."

Almost in unison, the four of them unzip their sweatshirts and tug them off to show Louis what they're wearing underneath.

Louis' breath catches as Zayn turns around to show him the back of the shirt while the rest of them look at him, half expectant and half sheepish.

They had had jerseys made. Jerseys identical to his, down to his number and name on the back.

"Do you like them?" Harry asks. "They were Niall's idea."

Louis turns to Niall and beams at him. "I could kiss you, mate, I really could."

Niall turns bright red but looks unbelievably pleased when he answers, "Maybe not here, yeah? Later, though."

Louis pulls Niall into a tight hug and whispers, “Definitely later,” into his ear before pulling back to smile at all of them.

“Lou!” Stan calls from where he’s standing on the pitch. “Are you going to play football or stand around chatting?”

“Come see what the lads are wearing!” Louis calls back, grin still spread across his face. Louis wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop smiling.

"Are those your jersey?" Stan asks, coming to a stop at Louis' side. "Did they have copies of your jersey made to wear to your match?"

"Cost quite a pretty pound, too," Zayn grumbles but he's smiling.

Louis’ grin turns shit eating as he plasters himself to Stan's side. "Why don't you ever special order copies of my jersey to wear to my footie matches?"

"Because I have my own jersey to wear, Tomlinson," Stan ruffles Louis' hair. "Come on, star, let's go finish warming up."

"You'll be in your regular spot?" Louis asks as Stan drags him back onto the pitch.

"Right next to the bench," Liam promises.

"On the ground behind the bench, reading a book," Zayn adds, taking his paperback out his back pocket and waving it at Louis who just rolls his eyes.

Halfway through the match, Louis misses a penalty kick. He falls to his knees in the middle of the field, a sad smile on his face as he looks over to where Harry, Liam, Niall, and even Zayn are still wildly cheering his name, telling him to “walk it off.”

Three-fourths of the way through the match, Louis flips them all off when they start chanting, “Louis, Louis! He’s our man! If he can’t do it, you can bet Stan can!” They all just laughed and Stan had ruffled Louis’ hair on the way by, throwing the rest of a boys a thumbs up to show his appreciation.

The match ends with Louis tangled up in his four best friends (who had raced onto the field when Louis scored the game winning goal), all with "Tomlinson 17" embroidered across their backs.

----

"The bungalow?" Niall asks as Harry stops the car.

"Lou's idea," Harry says in lieu of a real answer.

Everyone turns to Louis, questions etched into their brows.

Louis just shrugs, "Seemed like the right place to go."

They all clamber out the car, laughing as Harry stumbles and Zayn ducks to keep his hair safe from the doorframe.

Harry finds the key and unlocks the door to the bungalow, letting all of the boys in before he crosses the threshold himself.

They all stand a little awkwardly until Niall says, "Does your stepdad still keep this place stocked with food?"

"I think there might be something in the cupboard," Harry smiles at him.

Niall nods and heads through the hallway to the kitchen, the other boys on his heels. He pulls crackers out of the cupboard and starts in on them right away. Liam leans in and takes a handful before Niall can eat them all.

"You haven't changed a bit, mate," Louis laughs as he pulls open the fridge and hits the jackpot: five beers on the bottom shelf.

Niall shrugs. "Don't fix what isn't broken, right?"

They all laugh.

"I've always admired that about you, actually," Zayn tells Niall. "You're just so sure of who you are and who you want to be."

Niall shrugs again and looks down into the crackers, face pulled together.

"What?" Harry frowns at Niall as he accepts a beer from Louis.

"Nothing," Niall's voice is hollow. "It's just... There's only been one time I've ever doubted that who I am is who I want to be. It was right after we stopped being friends. I mean... I was from Ireland, it wasn't like I had many friends here outside of you lads so when we stopped being friends. I don't know. It was stupid. I thought it was something I did. Thought it was maybe my fault."

"Niall, no," Liam tells him. He crowds closer to Niall, wrapping his arm around Niall's waist. Niall freezes for just a second, but it's Liam and this has always been what Liam does best, so he relaxes into it.

"Not you," Harry agrees.

"Never you," Zayn says, voice firm.

"Right," Niall smiles then and pushes Liam off so he can get to the beer Louis is holding out to him. "I thought we decided we weren't going to dwell on the past? This feels like dwelling."

"Your fault, you Irish bastard," Louis tells him, pulling Niall off the counter and into a headlock.

"Watch my beer, Lou," Niall whines as Louis drags him through the house, the others following close behind.

----

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Harry reminds Liam for what feels like the thousandth time.

"He knows, Harry," Niall rolls his eyes and goes back to rolling the second blunt. The first one sits off to the side, perfectly rolled and ready to be smoked.

"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't," Liam shrugs.

They're sitting in the living room of the bungalow, Louis and Niall kneeling at the coffee table. Harry is spread out on his back, taking up an entire couch to himself, while Zayn and Liam are tangled up in each other on the other couch.

Harry makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Just don't want you to feel like it's peer pressure or something."

Zayn rolls his eyes this time and opens his mouth to retort something about how Harry is one to talk about peer pressure. All he does is look up at them from under his curls and flutter his lashes a little to pressure them into doing whatever he wants. But before he can get anything out, he's distracted by Louis and Niall simultaneously lighting up.

"Excellent stuff, Tommo," Niall tells him appreciatively as he breathes out.

"Pass it here," Zayn holds out his hand. Louis leans over and hands him the blunt he'd taken a hit off of. Harry makes grabby motions from where he's laid out and Niall makes a face, but gets up and brings Harry the blunt anyways. He sits on Harry's legs while Harry takes a hit.

Zayn takes in a deep breath, the cherry turning a dark orange. He holds the smoke in his lungs, feeling it press and push at him from the inside, before releasing it, head tipped back and throat exposed.

“God, you’re pretty,” Niall informs Zayn.

The other three hum in agreement and Zayn blushes. “Stop it. Tonight is about Liam, remember?”

It was Liam’s turn to blush. “It’s about all of us. I’m just finally joining in.”

“Niall,” Harry whines from where he’s still pinned beneath Niall’s weight. Niall had managed to snag the joint out of Harry’s hand and was refusing to give it back.

Niall blew the smoke in his mouth out into Harry’s face, smirking when he leaned over to hand the blunt to Louis instead of giving it back to Harry.

“Either do it all the way or don’t do it at all, Horan,” Harry’s warns.

Niall just grins as Louis hands the blunt back. He takes a quick hit and leaned forward to tap his forehead against Harry’s. Harry lets out a short laugh and then presses his lips to Niall’s.

“That’s called shotgunning, right?” Liam murmurs to Zayn.

“Yeah,” Zayn answers, taking another hit. He’s starting to feel it now and it feels great. It always feels great.

“Could we...” Liam hesitates. “Could we try that? Would it be easier? For my first time, I mean.”

“If you want, yeah,” Zayn angles himself a little bit better, already raising the joint to his lips. “It’s easy. Just breathe in when I breathe out, then hold your breath, and breathe out when you want, okay?”

“We promise not to laugh too much when you cough up a lung afterwards,” Louis tells Liam.

“Thanks for that,” Liam shoots at Louis, who just rolls his eyes in response. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Niall and Harry stop to turn and look at Liam and Zayn, watching as Zayn breathes in deeply, trapping the heavy smoke in his own lungs and throat, before leaning in to press his lips against Liam’s gently. Liam parts his lips automatically, and Zayn breathes out, letting the smoke escape into Liam’s mouth. In credit to Liam, he takes it like a champ. Holding the smoke in much longer than Zayn expected him to before gasping it out with less finesse than the rest of them.

“Alright?” Niall asks.

Liam throws him a smile. “Alright.”

From there it gets blurry and fuzzy, the way that Zayn likes it, really. Louis crawls up into his lap for better access to the blunt and for cuddles. Louis always gets cuddly when he’s stoned. Well, more cuddly than usual. Liam takes a few more hits, enough that he is relaxed and pliant, leaning against Zayn with Louis’ legs in his lap.

Liam is particularly funny when he is stoned. Or maybe everything is just funny when Zayn is stoned. But Liam keeps forgetting to finish his sentences, so Zayn has to do it for him and even if he hadn’t smoked at all, Zayn is pretty sure he would still be high off the feeling of making Liam smile like that and making Louis’ chest shake with laughter in his lap.

Niall lays himself out completely over Harry, who is petting Niall’s hair. If Zayn had to pick only one of them to get high with he thinks it would be Niall because Niall just gets all relaxed and chilled out, the same way Zayn does. Harry turns into a philosopher when he’s stoned.

“Do you guys ever think about fate?” Harry asks right on cue.

“Shut the fuck up, Harry Styles,” Louis says from where his face is pressed against Zayn’s stomach. And even though his voice is muffled, Zayn can hear how stupidly fond Louis is of Harry.

“I think about fate sometimes,” Liam chimes in and Harry smiles at him like he just solved world hunger.

There’s silence for a few moments, the kind you only get when everyone in the room is totally comfortable. The kind that happens when there could be more to say but no one really has to say it. Not out loud, anyway.

It’s broken when Louis blows a raspberry against Zayn’s stomach, making Zayn laugh out loud. Niall and Harry get up then and move over to their couch. They fall asleep like that, all five of them squished together.

Right before Zayn nods off he catches Harry’s eye. “I think about fate sometimes, too, Haz.”

Harry smiles at him, soft and warm as he’s coming down. “Go to sleep, Zayn.”

Zayn tucks his head onto Liam’s shoulder, and tightens his grip around Louis. He can feel Harry’s hand against the back of his neck and his ankle is somehow tangled with Niall’s on the floor. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

----

“What’s this, Harold?” Louis lets go of Niall to pick up a football that’s resting next to the back door. He’d dragged Niall (and the rest of them, technically) into the living room, where he’d spotted the football in question next to the sliding glass doors that made up most of the fourth wall of the living room.

“Your old football,” Harry takes a sip of his beer, face tinting just the slightest pink. “You must have left it the last time we were here. I... I haven’t really been back since.”

“Haz, that was two years ago,” Liam points out.

Harry goes a little rigid, a defensive look crossing his face and no, that’s not right, Louis thinks. Harry isn’t supposed to get defensive with them.

“What’s your point?” Harry snaps.

“I mean, don’t you and your family spend a week here every summer?” Liam’s voice is softer, trying to make Harry relax.

“I found ways to get out of it,” Harry shrugs.

Zayn plays with his hair a little when he asks, “But why?”

Harry turns on him but he’s dropped the defensive look and now he looks just this side of desperate. Desperate for them to understand.

“This house is full of you guys,” Harry tells them. “The whole entire house is just you guys. That’s the couch Liam got high on for the first time. That’s the coffee table Niall almost broke when he tried to skateboard over it. That’s the kitchen where Louis made us tacos for the first time. Zayn drew those fake tattoos on us around the fire pit right outside this door. I couldn’t be here if you guys weren’t. I didn’t want to be.”

They all fall silent.

“Haz,” Zayn starts, but Harry cuts him off by sliding open the door to the backyard.

“Let’s just kick around the football, yeah? And then I’ll drive you all home.” Harry ducks out into the backyard.

“I -” Liam goes to say.

 

“Not your fault, Li,” Louis interrupts. He’s looking out at Harry, who has stopped in the middle of the yard and is looking up at the sky. “I didn’t realize... I guess he needed us more than we thought.”

“Of course he did,” Niall tells them. They turn to him, confused, and he shrugs. “I think he’s always needed us a little differently than we’ve needed him.”

Liam is the first one out the back door after that, striding purposefully across the lawn to where Harry is.

“Sorry,” Liam murmurs, taking hold of the hand that Harry doesn’t have clutched tightly around his beer.

“It’s fine,” Harry answers, squeezing Liam’s hand before pulling away and turning to the others, who had followed Liam out.

Louis drops the football and nudges it gently to Niall as they all form a circle. Niall kicks it across to Harry, who sends it Zayn, who gets it to Liam but just barely.

They stay like that for a while, kicking the football in a circle and drinking their beers which are gone too soon. They don’t say much, but for the first time all night Louis doesn’t think it’s because they don’t know what to say. It’s because they don’t need to say anything to be understood.

----

Niall smiles and downs another shot.

“How are you not drunk yet?” Louis demands. “That’s like, your fourth shot of straight whiskey.”

“I’m Irish, mate,” Niall throws him a wink. Niall’s accent always gets thicker when he’s on his way to being drunk. He also turns into way more of a lad, fist bumping everyone in sight and turning his snapback backwards. “I was drinking pints while you were still drinking juice.”

“I think you might be exaggerating,” Liam’s brows are furrowed at Niall. He’s only had two drinks and he’s feeling pleasantly buzzed. He usually doesn’t drink, but the bar they’re at is close enough to the bungalow that Liam doesn’t feel he has to stay sober to navigate. Besides, a walk in the brisk night air will do them all good. They’d chosen this bar because it doesn’t card and doesn’t think twice about serving alcohol to minors, the proximity to the bungalow had just been a bonus.

Niall throws Liam a look and orders everyone another round of shots. They all grab one and head for a booth that’s tucked away at the back of the pub. They slide in, Harry and Louis in the middle with Zayn on Louis’ left, and Niall sandwiched between Harry and Liam on the other side. They grin at each other before Louis counts down from three and they all knock back their drinks.

“So, Haz,” Zayn starts after he chases down the taste of the whiskey with his ridiculously fruity drink that Louis had ordered him as a joke months ago. The joke was on Louis, though, because now it was all Zayn would drink. “Feeling any older?”

“No. I just feel tipsy,” Harry answers with a grin. “Warm and a little bit blurry with the promise of feeling very sick later.”

“None of that,” Louis turns in his seat to stick his finger in Harry’s face. “No one is getting sick tonight. Tonight is about fun, and that is not fun.”

“But it’s my birthday,” Harry pouts. “I want to get wasted.”

“You can get nice and wasted but also drink lots of water,” Louis rolls his eyes, apparently the only one immune to Harry’s puppy dog eyes at this point.

Harry sighs, overdramatic, but smiles.

“We should sing happy birthday,” Liam says suddenly. “It’s not a birthday celebration if nobody sings happy birthday!”

“Right you are, mate!” Niall exclaims, clapping Liam on the back. “Happy birthday to you...”

They all join in, a few voices from people in the bar filling in as well. Harry preens under the attention and Zayn rolls his eyes and reaches over to pinch one of Harry’s nipples.

“Happy birthday, you giant wanker,” Niall pulls Harry against his side, pressing his lips to Harry’s temple and then spitting out the curls that snuck into his mouth.

Harry settles in against Niall’s side and plants a kiss on his jaw. “Thanks, Nialler.”

They stay at the pub a bit longer, though they don’t drink too much more. Zayn goes to the bar at one point and orders waters for all of them. They drink those, pushing closer and closer together on the booth bench.

“Time to go, lads?” Liam asks when he notices Harry starting to nod off against Louis’ shoulder.

“I think so, yeah,” Zayn says slipping out of the booth. Louis slides out next and tugs Harry along with him. Harry leans heavily on Louis once he’s up, limbs loose from alcohol and tiredness. Zayn comes to Harry’s other side, sneaking an arm around his waist, helping Louis to hold him up.

“I got the bill,” Niall volunteers. He goes to the bar to square away their tab. He returns and they all head out of the pub, curling into each other against the cold.

“Not wearing jackets may have been a mistake,” Louis says from under Harry’s arm. “I’m not drunk enough to not feel cold.”

“It’s not far,” Harry’s voice is thick. “We’ll be okay. Got each other, don’t we?”

As they walk along, Liam pulls Niall under his arm, rubbing his hand up and down Niall’s bicep, trying to warm him up even a little.

“Good night?” Niall asks, looking up at Liam.

“Very good night,” Liam responds, pulling Niall even closer even though they’re already pretty much walking on top of each other.

“Li?” Niall’s voice is quiet, like he doesn’t want the other boys to hear this. Not like they would, Louis and Zayn are too busy singing and hip checking Harry into each other to really notice anything else.

“Yeah?”

Niall turns his head, pressing his cold nose against Liam’s collarbone just for a second. “You guys are my best friends.”

“We know that. You’re our best friend too,” Liam’s a little confused as to why Niall’s saying it, but he’s still happy to hear it.

“No, like,” Niall pauses for a second like he’s trying to put the words together. Maybe he’s a little drunker than Liam thought he was. “I have friends back in Ireland. Plenty. But then we left and came here and I thought... I thought I wouldn’t really fit in, ya know? But then I found you guys and it’s just... It’s really great, Li. You guys are really great.”

“You’re really great yourself, Nialler,” Liam answers honestly. “We wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They grin at each other and then Liam leans down and pecks a quick kiss to Niall’s cold and chapped lips. They gust out laughs against each other’s chins and then follow the rest of the boys down the front path to the bungalow.”

----

They’re kicking the football around with a bit more enthusiasm now. The beer has settled in, taking the edge off the years of being apart. They’ve all shrugged out of the their jackets and ties, as well as their fancy shoes.

(“Of course you’re not wearing socks,” Zayn shoots at Louis and rolls his eyes, but Louis just traps him in a headlock and threatens to mess up Zayn’s hair until Zayn gives in.)

And this is easy. Playing football together is easy because it’s something they always did together. It’s easy to forget that any time has passed when it’s like this.

“Remember when we used to play football in Niall’s backyard?” Liam asks, laughing as Harry misses the ball by a mile.

“Yeah, before we figured out Harry was shit at football,” Niall grins. “We’re all kind of shit at football. Except for you, Tommo.”

Louis falters as Harry passes him the ball.

“You okay, mate?” Liam asks, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah," Louis’ got a soft smile on his face and god, Harry had missed that smile. The small one that Louis only used when he was totally comfortable and just quietly happy. "It’s just been a long time since anyone’s called me that."

“Are you going soft on us, Lou?” Harry asks, tone joking but soft. It’s like they’re all holding their breath now.

“Fond,” Zayn answers before Louis has a chance to. They catch each other’s eyes and smile. “I think the word you’re looking for is fond.”

Louis barks out a laugh at that, and then turns to grin at the rest of them. “Fond sounds about right.”

“What happened to us?” Liam wonders aloud and no, they said they weren’t going to talk about this. But it feels like they have to, that the only way that they can fix this is to talk about it. “I mean, we used to be so close.”

“We let other stuff get in the way,” Harry shrugs. “It happens, Li. It happens all the time.”

“Yeah, but why did we let it?” Liam pushes because he has to know. He had opened up to these four boys in a way he had never opened up to any of his other friends and they had left him. He needs to know why.

“Liam,” and suddenly Louis is in Liam’s face. “Liam, breathe.”

Liam lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and reaches out to steady himself, hands finding Louis’ waist. His voice is quiet and shallow when it breaks on a whispered, “Why did you guys leave me?”

“Li,” Niall presses himself against Liam’s back.

“I... You guys were the best friends I’d ever had, you know? You were everything I’d ever wanted in friends. It was because of you guys that I stopped being bullied. No one was going to mess with Louis Tomlinson’s best friend, you know? And most of the school still thought Zayn was part of the mob or something when we first started being friends. I felt safe with you guys and then... Then you were just gone.”

Suddenly, Louis’ lips are against Liam’s. Liam stiffens, but Louis just leaves his lips there - pressed against Liam’s - waiting. It takes Liam a few beats but he gets there, and he parts his lips to accept Louis’ kiss.

“We’re right here, babe,” Zayn’s voice reassures Liam when he and Louis pull apart. “Not gone. We were just away for a while.”

“But we’re back. We’re all back together and that’s what matters,” Harry adds and it looks like he’s barely holding it together himself. And Liam hates that. He hates that Harry looks so frayed and that they’re all tiptoeing around each other. So Liam follows Louis’ lead and reaches out to tug Harry into a kiss.

“We can’t solve all of our problems by kissing,” Zayn sighs, voice exasperated. He’s smiling though so they all take him about as seriously as he deserves.

“You’re just mad because nobody’s kissing you.” Louis sticks his tongue out at Zayn.

But then Niall is kissing Zayn and they have to break apart so that Zayn can laugh and shoot a superior look at Louis, but then they’re back to kissing, Niall’s hands coming up to frame Zayn’s face.

Niall and Harry go next and it’s different now because Harry shot up like a weed, but Niall simply tips his head back and smiles up at Harry until Harry ducks his head and kisses him sweetly. Zayn and Louis take their turn, Louis tickling Zayn halfway through and throwing the kiss all off. Zayn takes his revenge by licking a stripe up Louis’ cheek.

Zayn and Harry kiss and Harry dips Zayn backwards like he’s some maiden and Zayn comes back up all flustered.

“You smooth little motherfucker,” Louis comments, shaking his head slightly. Instead of waiting for a response, Louis pulls Niall in for a kiss that tastes like laughter.

Liam and Zayn kiss after that. It’s soft and it’s sweet and it reminds Liam of when they used to stay up late listening to Zayn’s iPod, kissing lazily if the rhythm of the song so moved them. Niall and Liam go next and Liam pulls Niall into a tight hug when it’s done. Niall buries his face in Liam’s shoulder.

Louis and Harry go last and it’s probably the most chaste kiss exchanged so far. Even more chaste than the one Louis first shared with Liam. The just lip gently at each other before leaning their foreheads together.

“Missed you, Lou,” Harry whispers.

“Missed you too, Hazza,” Louis whispers back, placing a kiss to Harry’s chin.

They separate and then the five of them are just looking at each other, grins on their faces.

“Well,” Niall finally breaks the silence. “That’s better.”

----

“Could Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, and Liam Payne all stay after class please? The rest of you can go.” Mrs. Miller dismisses their year eight maths class.

The five boys she requested stay remain seated. Liam shuffles nervously, Zayn looks out the window, bored. Louis can’t sit still, can never sit still. Niall and Harry both just look confused.

“Boys,” she says as she rounds her desk to lean against the front of it. “I have some bad news for all of you. The five of you, I’m sorry to say, are currently failing my class. If you don’t pull your grades up, you will not be able to advance.”

She watches each of their reactions, all silent but for the most part the same: looks of unadulterated terror. The fear of having to repeat a year, of having to explain to their parents that they failed. She continues on quickly, “But I know you’ve all tried your best this term so I’m going to give you a chance to fix it. You’re going to work together to build a scale model of a football stadium of your choosing. You have to research the stadium, get all of the measurements, convert them, and then build a scale model. Do you think you could do that?”

They all flash quick glances at each other, but besides that there is no hesitation as they all nod their heads.

“Good. It’s due in two weeks. You can take some time now to discuss it while I run to the teacher’s room and print up some assignments for my next class,” she tells them before leaving the room, shutting the door behind herself.

“Okay, lads, so I guess we’re building a football stadium,” Niall’s voice comes from the back of the room. He’s just moved here from Ireland and his accent is still thick. The others turn to him.

“Looks like, yeah,” Liam agrees easily enough.

“We should build Old Trafford,” Louis chimes in. “Man U is my favorite club.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Harry offers.

“I can do all the conversions,” Zayn tells them and they all turn to him. “I’m actually really good at maths, I just don’t do my homework.”

“Are you serious?” Liam asks.
Zayn shrugs, looking more at the floor than at them. “Homework’s boring. I understand everything, why do I need to do a million problems using the same formula, you know?”

“I don’t do my homework either,” Louis beams as if he’s just found out he won a prize instead of failing a class.

“Good on both of you?” Harry says it as a question, leaving it open because he’s not quite sure how any of them are supposed to react to Louis’ revelation.

“So we’re going to build Old Trafford?” Liam tries to get them back on track.

“That we are!” Louis exclaims.

Harry turns to Niall and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, mate, but I don’t know your name.”

Niall grins, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m new and everything. M’ name’s Niall Horan. I’m from Mullingar in Ireland.”

“I’m Harry Styles.”

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Zayn Malik.”

“Liam Payne.”

They all smile at each other, just a bit.

“We can work on it in my basement, if you guys want?” Niall puts in. “We have a lot of space and we still have all the leftover cardboard and stuff from the move that we can build the model with.”

“Excellent idea, my Irish man,” Louis tells him. “Anyone have a better offer?”

No one did, so they made plans to meet up at Niall’s later that week and work on the project before packing up their stuff and leaving the classroom.

When they turned their project in two weeks later, all five of them beaming at Mrs. Miller as they presented her with a scale model of the Man U stadium, she simply smiled and told them all they passed. They whooped and cheered and she sat back in her chair, admiring how amazingly these boys worked together.

----

After a while, Harry starts a fire in the fire pit just outside the back door. They pull chairs around it and grab blankets from inside before settling down around its heat. Niall jogs out to Harry’s car to grab the guitar out of the boot before joining them.

They sit in silence for a bit, a comfortable one, content to listen to Niall pluck at the guitar. It’s interrupted by Niall’s phone buzzing insistently.

“Aren’t you popular?” Louis shoots at him as Niall pulls his mobile out of his pocket.

“I’ll just shut it off, yeah?” Niall offers without glancing at the screen.

“It could be important, mate,” Zayn interjects before Niall can shut his phone down. “Might as well check it before you turn it off.”

Niall shrugs and does what Zayn says. He reads the first message and bursts out laughing.

“What?” Harry asks him, but they’re all sitting up a little straighter, questions on their faces.

“They know we’re gone,” Niall all but cackles.

“How?” Liam asks. “Is it because I’m not there?”

“I’m sure that’s part of it,” Niall tells him. “But I just won Prom King. They called my name and eventually someone realized I wasn’t anywhere in the building. And then they realized Haz’s car is gone.”

“Fuck,” Zayn swears. “We’re so fucked.”

Louis pulls out his own phone and checks his twelve unread messages from Stan. “Stan says that they’re mad, but that Mrs. Miller covered for us. She told them that she told us we could go because Zayn wasn’t feeling well.” Louis looks at Zayn with a pointed look and Zayn fake coughs for his benefit.

“Mrs. Miller is a legend,” Liam sighs and relaxes back into his chair.

“Congratulations on being royalty, Nialler,” Harry leans over from his own chair for a fist bump. “I voted for you.”

“So did I,” Liam confesses.

Louis and Zayn nod their own admission.

“Thanks, lad,” Niall blushes.

“I’m sorry you weren’t there to get crowned,” Louis murmurs after they all settle back in their chairs and into silence.

Niall shrugs. “Much rather be here, you know? It’s just a plastic crown.”

“I’ll buy you twenty plastic crowns,” Zayn promises Niall with a wink.

“Deal,” Niall smiles, big and bright. He repositions the guitar in his lap and starts strumming in earnest. “You lads remember this one?”

“I’ll never forget, we sang it so much those first few weeks together,” Louis rolls his eyes, but clears his throat.

Niall starts but the others join in quickly; voices dipping and swelling together, blending and swirling as they laugh and sing around the fire.

“Forever young,
I wanna be forever young.
Do you really wanna live forever?
Forever or never.

Forever young,
I wanna be forever young.
Do you really wanna live forever?
Forever, forever young.”

----

great, but there was something undeniably special about the five of them finding each other.

It was the five of them against the world. And they’d never felt more invincible.

----

“Do you guys want me to drive you home?” Harry asks finally when they run out of songs to sing about an hour later.

There’s silence around the dying fire, the first awkward one in a while.

“I guess you have to, right?” Liam finally speaks up, but his voice is heavy.

Harry shrugs a little, not meeting their eyes. “I mean, we could just crash here. I just have to tell my mum so she doesn’t worry or anything.”

“I think...” Louis starts and they all turn to him. “I think that we should spend the night, yeah.”

After talking to their parents and reassuring them that they were going to behave themselves, the five boys put out the fire and put away the chairs, carrying the blankets and guitar with them into the living room.

“I don’t know how you guys...” Harry starts.

Zayn interrupts him. “We’ll drag the mattresses out here, yeah? Just like before?”

They all nod and start dragging mattresses and pillows into the living room from the bedrooms. Liam and Niall move the living room furniture out of the way so that they can push the mattresses together on the floor, forming one giant bed.

“Just like old times,” Niall grins before flopping down in the center of their makeshift bed.

“You still kick in your sleep, Tommo?” Liam grins at Louis as he undoes his belt.

“No, but I can make an exception for you,” Louis shoots Liam a glare but it’s offset by his smile.

“The real question we should be asking,” Zayn says almost to himself as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt. “Is if Harry still sleeps naked?”

Harry sticks out his tongue. “I’ll wear my boxers tonight, don’t get your pants in a twist, Zaynie.”

“Don’t call me that,” Zayn rolls his eyes as he shrugs his shirt off completely.

“Mate,” Niall whistles from where he’s sliding off his own trousers while still lying down. “Your tattoos.”

“Oh,” Zayn looks down at them like he’d forgotten they were there. “Yeah, I guess I have a few more than I did before, huh?”

“Just a few,” Liam nudges their shoulders together gently as he tugs his own shirt off.

“I think we all have a few more tattoos than we did last time we were together,” Louis comments as Harry pulls off his shirt to reveal tattoos decorating his arms and torso and Louis twists around, shirtless, to show off his own.

“Not me,” Niall grins up at them and stretches his arms and legs out, starfished on the mattresses.

“Oh, is little Niall scared of the needle?” Louis teases in his baby voice as he collapses onto the bed next to Niall, resting his head on one of Niall’s arms.

“Fuck off, Lou,” Niall rolls onto his side a bit to pull Louis closer and plant a kiss on his forehead.

Zayn climbs in on Niall’s other side, spooning up behind him. He wraps his arm around Niall’s waist, the ink of his tattoos a stark contrast to Niall’s pale skin. He manages to sneak up a hand and pinch on of Louis’ nipples which causes Louis to try to smack him over Niall’s head.

“Knock it off, you two,” Liam scolds, voice lazy. He says it more out of habit than anything else. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh ho ho, did you swallow a dictionary before getting in your limo, Liam?” Louis teases.

“This coming from the guy who couldn’t spell ‘comedic’ at the year ten spelling bee,” Harry reminds Louis as he settles in behind him.

“I’m still not entirely convinced it’s a word,” Louis retorts.

Niall laughs as Zayn cuts in with a, “It’s a real fucking word, Louis, I promise.”

Liam hits the lights and joins them on the mattresses, throwing blankets over all of them though it will probably be too hot for blankets with all of them cuddled together. Liam takes his spot behind Zayn, and reaches across all of them to find Harry’s hand, linking their fingers together.

They talk a bit more but their voices are quieter, admitting secrets they’ve been keeping, catching each other up on their lives. They talk about the first time they stayed in the bungalow and they all eventually admit that they still have Niall’s text message saved in their phones. They don’t talk about who faded away first. It doesn’t matter.

Curled up together under too-warm blankets in the middle of a giant bed that they built for themselves; pressed together so tightly Niall has a feeling they’ll have trouble disentangling themselves in the morning, and it doesn’t matter. Because in this moment they are back together.

In this moment, they are invincible.