moving to mars [1/5]
title: moving to mars
author: leira17
ships: liam/louis (liam/harry, louis/zayn, niall/food)
rating: pg-15
word count: ~17,000
warnings: swearing, references to sex, other than that it’s pretty tame
summary: The one in which Liam and Louis travelled through time and space together. Sort of.
note: i accidentally 17k lilo fic. beta'd by my lovely laurencake. a kind of ‘doctor who cast’ au wherein they don’t actually do very much work. there’s also a Big Gay Freakout and way too many run-on sentences. any discrepancies in my description of the television industry is because I know very little about it.
apologies for any typos that slipped through.
Liam was minding his own business, thanks very much, when the whirlwind first arrived.
“Your get-up’s alright,” a voice from somewhere beyond the script he’d been holding in front of his nose said, “I’m glad they’re not making it too weird since Eleven kind of pulled that off best, didn’t he?”
Though briefly considering ignoring the intruder in his trailer, Liam sighed and lowered his script. He levelled an unimpressed look on the stranger before him. He looked like he belonged in college; his features were older but his red jeans were rolled up around the ankles and his t-shirt was splotched with a graphic design easily done with a few clicks on Photoshop if you had the right brushes (and Liam did). A beanie on the head and glasses perched on his nose -- yeah, this guy was definitely a student.
More importantly, he didn’t work in the studio.
“Sorry, but who are you?” asked Liam. He was trying to be polite but really, there was only so much niceties you could give to a teenage stranger in your trailer.
“I’m the new companion.” When he shrugged, he looked even more juvenile.
Liam frowned, flicking through the first few pages of his script. “I - what? I thought the companion this year was a -”
“Pretty, young girl?” the stranger laughed and made himself comfortable on Liam’s sofa. “Yeah, no, they decided on a change of pace. Too many strongly-worded letters, I suppose. So here I am, the young and pretty male alternate. Louis Tomlinson at your service, Doctor.”
“Is the story staying the same?” was all Liam could think to ask, staring at the words he’d been memorising and hoping it wasn’t for nothing.
“Basically, yes,” Louis said. “I mean, not exactly. There’s no vaguely romantic plot going on now, since ‘Torchwood’s where the gays are’ and all that.” He put air-quotes around each syllable of the sentence to emphasise his irritation. Liam frowned. That didn’t seem -- fair. He nearly said as much out loud, but caught himself in time. They hadn’t even started filming yet and if Liam were to be overheard badmouthing the showrunners... well, replacing him wouldn’t be all that difficult, he was sure. Hundreds of people must audition for the role of Britain’s favourite alien every regeneration.
Thirteen. It was kind of a big deal, to be the thirteenth reincarnation of the Doctor. Eleven’s run was silly but mind-meltingly horrifying and Twelve’s, though set up as a darker and edgier sort, was cut short by the untimely death of the actor. Liam wasn’t sure what they expected of him just yet.
“I can see why they picked you,” said Louis, reminding Liam of his presence. “You’ve got the old eyes.”
“I’ve not,” Liam protested.
“Do so.”
Liam would have happily continued arguing with his -- co-star? -- had Niall not poked his head in the trailer door just then. Liam liked Niall. He wasn’t entirely sure what Niall did, exactly, but then, he wasn’t sure of ninety-percent of the actual jobs of the people around him. “Hi, lads,” he said. “Time for the read-through.”
“Duty calls,” sighed Louis. He stood like it was a chore, like he didn’t beat out a lot of competitors for his job. Liam found it grating but Niall just grinned and shook his head.
“Whatever, Tommo,” Niall said in a familiar voice. Of course they already knew each other. Liam suspected he was the only one who was so lost in his own world that he could barely remember the faces of the ants milling about their busy schedules. He supposed feeling this way, this sort of outcast way, was probably good for his portrayal of the Doctor, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
When Liam first stepped onto the newly-constructed set of the TARDIS, he felt instantly at home. He knew it was just his investment in the role talking, but he couldn’t help running his hands over the dashboard and pulling knobs like they would work and he’d be whisked away on an adventure.
He looked up and noticed with a jolt that Louis was watching him. He bit his lip to stop the unnecessary apology, and Louis just smiled a little.
“Like you were born for it,” he said, and Liam’s heart felt like it would float away.
Louis was a surprisingly competent actor. It’s not that he could act that was surprising, it was the ease from which he switched from Benny Cooper, budding architect, to Louis Tomlinson, goofball extraordinaire, when someone yelled cut -- like flicking a switch. Liam wished he could do that, could just drop the character and put on a grin and flirt with Mary the assistant director but he just wasn’t able to. He brought what felt like a thousand years of baggage to bed with him every night, sleep elusive because each time he closed his eyes he remembered the face of another fictional character who’d died for the bloody Doctor. Niall thought it was hilarious; Louis thought it was cause to fuss.
“I’m fine, really,” Liam said before Louis could even open his mouth this time.
Pausing in the entry to the TARDIS (instead of using the more easily accessible “fourth wall”, the dork), Louis smiled sheepishly. “Am I that obvious?”
“Your thoughts are always broadcast all over your face,” said Liam. “I doubt secrets are your forte. Subtlety definitely isn’t.”
A mask passed over Louis’ face; a cold one that sent chills up Liam’s arms. He peered into Liam’s eyes from across the TARDIS console, head tilting to one side. “You forget, Doctor, how good of an actor I really am.” And then the moment was broken and Louis was Louis again, all smiles and bubbliness, but it was still disconcerting. He didn’t hear Louis’ offer of tea until the fourth time he’d repeated it, and even then he could only nod dumbly.
How? How did someone just -- just stop and be another person, just like that? Confused and slightly envious, Liam finally left the set, trailing behind a chatty Louis.
After the fifth take of their first running scene, Louis was clutching a stitch in his side.
“How do you do this?” he gasped, glaring at Liam, who wasn’t so much as breathing hard. “I’d be impressed except that it means more work for me.”
“Dunno,” Liam shrugged. “I guess I’m just in good shape.”
“I hate you,” said Louis without heat.
Liam almost offered to train Louis himself, but stopped. That wasn’t his problem, that was Louis’ problem and probably some of the higher-ups’ problem as well, but it certainly wasn’t Liam’s.
The next day, he offered.
“Oh, goody,” Louis said when Niall handed them their new scripts. “I was wondering when we’d go to Cardiff.”
“We’re already in Cardiff,” Liam said. Louis poked his nose, which was not unusual in itself. Much to his dismay, Liam had learned via running with his ‘companion’ every Thursday and Sunday that Louis was a very touchy sort of person. He got right offended if Liam shirked away, too, so Liam couldn’t do anything but sit and let his personal space be invaded day after day.
“I meant as Benny and the Doctor.” He flipped to the ending like he always did. “Shit. Of course.”
Liam took the bait. “Of course what?”
“Spoilers,” Louis said, and it wasn’t until hours later, after he’d finished the whole script, that Liam realised he was actually dropping a hint to the ending.
Danielle Peazer was her name.
She came onto set with her big hair (was that a requirement for the role?) and trilling laugh and swishy dresses, and Liam thought he might have fallen in love right on the spot. The director loved her, said they had great chemistry, and only Louis thought to bring up how impossible it was that this character was returning. Well, the showrunners didn’t care, Liam didn’t care, and the fans who’d caught wind of the storyline were already deep in theorising mode, so he was outvoted.
“Well of course Liam wants you to stay,” Louis said over lunch one day. “He fancies the hell out of you.”
Liam inhaled half his donut rather suddenly. Niall rubbed his back through the ensuing coughing fit, and Liam spared him only a quick appreciative glance before glowering at the nuisance across the table. For her part, Danielle only laughed and said, “Is that so?”, all mischievous and cheeky and god, yes, Liam fancied the hell out of her.
Offense was the best defense, though, so he said, “At least I’m not the one with a laminated Harry Styles poster taped to my ceiling.” Louis flushed a colour red that Liam hadn’t seen before.
“Yes, well,” was all Louis said.
There was a quiet few moments then, and Liam felt like maybe he should apologise, maybe he’d crossed some line he hadn’t been aware of, because Louis was fiddling with his cutlery and acting -- well, embarrassed. Which was certainly not an emotion Liam was familiar (or comfortable) with seeing on Louis’ face. He was still learning all the ins and outs of Louis, what was okay and what wasn’t, and he’d thought Louis’ crush on the winner of the 2012 X Factor was fair game. At least it had been. Without an audience.
Then Niall said, “Well, Harry Styles is fit,” and the slight tension was broken by laughter. No argument there.
Danielle cornered him after lunch to ask him on a proper date, and not even the kissy noises Louis made through the rest of the day’s rehearsals could wipe the grin off Liam’s face.
He wasn’t entirely certain he was allowed to, but he texted Louis rather late that night. Just a simple ‘can u come over’. Not thirty seconds later, he received an ‘alright bts’ -- no questions asked. Liam had never really had friends he could just invite over at all hours, nor did he ever think he wanted them. It was almost a blessing, though, when Louis knocked on his door with half a six-pack under one arm and a bag of greasy fast food in the other.
“You know I can’t have either of those things,” Liam said, moving aside to let Louis into his flat.
Never bothered by the prospect of making himself at home, Louis dropped his things onto the kitchen counter, then hoisted himself up beside them.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Louis. “This was my evening, and you interrupted it. I was also watching Avengers Assemble, but I couldn’t be arsed to bring it along as well.” He paused and just looked at Liam for a long while. This was another thing Louis did often, like he was trying to puzzle Liam out. “I take it -- so, the date didn’t go well, then?”
Liam could’ve gone into the whole story; the way he couldn’t shut up about work, the way she hadn’t seemed to mind, the reason she hadn’t minded. The camera flashes. It’d been a long night, though, so he just let his shoulders slump and condensed it to, “Publicity stunt.” Louis’ hiss of indignation was welcome, and Liam could see how hard he was trying not to just start cussing her out.
After what seemed like a lot of struggling, Louis sighed. “I’m sorry, Li. I know... well, I know you really liked her.”
“Not so much with the liking anymore,” Liam assured him.
“Girls suck,” Louis summed up. “I knew there was a reason I swore off ‘em entirely.”
Liam had suspected, of course, but suspicions were one thing. Having them casually confirmed was another entirely, and he fought to keep his face neutral in case Louis was waiting for a reaction. He didn’t seem to be, preoccupied as he was with finding the last chips at the bottom of the McDonald’s bag, but Liam had had friends come out to him before, and there was always that moment of panic that they’d be pushed away.
So he said, “I don’t think blokes would end up being much better, honestly. I think it’s people-in-general who are the jerks.”
Smiling slightly, Louis tilted his head to the side.
“Maybe,” he allowed. “I haven’t been on enough dates to know.”
Liam did a double-take. “You’re joking.” Even Liam knew that Louis was, well, really attractive. One generally had to be, to be in the business they were, but Liam thought that he would’ve been far above the average anyway. Louis, who was munching on some disgusting-looking chips, raised his eyebrows.
“No, yeah,” he said, “I’ve just had the one boyfriend in all the years I’ve been able to understand the concept. And I guess I had dates before that, with girls, but those don’t count.”
Not wanting Louis to see how much this genuinely surprised him, Liam went to the fridge and peered in. Blimey, he had to go shopping. He was almost out of milk, for one thing, and running out of milk was every Brit’s worst nightmare. He spotted a still-ripe apple on the bottom shelf and bent to get it. He wondered if Louis was looking at his arse, then immediately felt guilty for assuming such a thing.
“Tell me more, tell me more,” Liam mocked as he stood, apple in hand, “like, did he have a car?”
He didn’t expect Louis to laugh as hard as he did. His arms wrapped around his waist as he leaned forwards, short bursts of laughter escaping his lips sporadically.
“S-sorry,” he got out between giggles. “Just. I was Danny for a school play and he did the set design and I literally wore his varsity jacket around school, and. Yeah. You couldn’t have picked a funnier way to start that conversation.”
“So you were Danny and Sandy, in a way,” Liam said.
“I was a very confused adolescent.”
“I’d imagine so.” Partially because he was curious -- but mostly because his heart still stung a little from Danielle’s intentions and Louis looked so very happy now that they were on the topic -- Liam asked, “What was his name?”
“Zayn Malik.”
Liam frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Because,” Louis said, swelling up with pride, “he swindled eighth place in the X Factor. Same year as Harry Styles and everything.”
“Wow, bet you wish you were there,” Liam snorted without thinking.
Louis barked out a laugh.
“You’ve no idea. Most sexually frustrated I’ve been since I was fifteen.” He paused, then gave Liam a rather soft look. “I really am sorry about Dani. If it helps, you can make faces behind her back with me during rehearsal on Monday.”
Surprisingly, that did sound like it would help.
“Sorry about Avengers Assemble,” Liam said. Louis said it wasn’t a problem, that he’d seen it more times than was probably healthy in any case, he was just glad he could help, and it felt kind of like a goodbye, so Liam blurted, “You should stay over. It’s -- you know, it’s late. And, yeah.”
Louis agreed happily enough, stuffing the beer in Liam’s fridge and the wrappers of his grossly over-salted meal into the bin. He jerked his head in the direction of the couch, and Liam shook his head.
“Only got the one blanket,” he said. “So you better not be a hog.”
“I’m not promising anything,” said Louis, grinning.
It occurred to Liam just as he was about to drift off, Louis’ back warm against his own, that perhaps some of what he’d said and done could be misconstrued as flirting; in the same moment he realised how much he actually hated sleeping alone and shrugged mentally, his breathing matched evenly with Louis’.
Whatever. He’d deal with it in the morning.
He woke up before Louis did, planning on just getting up and going on with his day, but Louis appeared to be some kind of stealth-snuggler. Liam was trapped by arms around his torso and a leg hitched over his hip, Louis’ face smushed into the side of his neck. He sighed. Snuggling was definitely not part of the job description of being Liam’s friend. Still, he didn’t want to wake Louis when they didn’t have anywhere to be that day, so after fidgeting to get comfortable and ignoring Louis’ sleepy groan of protest, Liam coaxed his brain back into sleep.
The next time his eyes opened, the clock said 10:23. Liam had a moment of panic before remembering he had the day off. He looked behind him, but Louis was gone.
He thought at first that he’d left, but there was singing coming from his kitchen that he sure hoped was Louis.
“I got chiilllllls, they’re multiplyin’!”
Liam shoved his blanket off and stood, popping the kink out of his shoulder. He wasn’t used to sleeping on one side the whole night, and his arm was protesting with the telltale pins and needles. Another thing he wasn’t used to was breakfast being made for him; Louis was scrambling eggs in a frying pan while he danced on the spot and sang one of the prolific songs of Grease.
“You better shape up,” Liam said, deadpan. Louis made a noise that he would later deny as a squeal and spun around.
“I was just --”
“Making breakfast?” Liam walked over and leaned against the counter opposite the spitting frying pan. “Carry on, then, I’m not waiting all day for some eggs.” He flicked Louis’ chin, causing him to smile.
Liam couldn’t help returning the smile, but then his thoughts from last night sprang up again. What if Louis thought he was, like, interested? He didn’t want to be That Straight Guy who thought every gay man wanted in his pants, but he also didn’t want to be That Jerk who led someone on just because he liked their company. Not exactly sure how to broach the subject, Liam ended up blurting, “I like girls.”
“Good for you?” Louis managed to side-eye him without turning around.
“No, I --” cutting himself off, Liam made a few vague hand gestures. “I just mean. Like. I’m not saying you fancy me because that’s a little. Presumptuous? I just -- I wanted to make it clear that I don’t fancy you, alright?”
Now Louis did turn, frying pan in hand. He was grinning. “I didn’t really think you did, but thanks.”
“Good, yeah,” Liam said, and Louis said, “Plates?”, making Liam stupidly reply, “I have them.” He was laughed at but he found he didn’t mind very much.
next
author: leira17
ships: liam/louis (liam/harry, louis/zayn, niall/food)
rating: pg-15
word count: ~17,000
warnings: swearing, references to sex, other than that it’s pretty tame
summary: The one in which Liam and Louis travelled through time and space together. Sort of.
note: i accidentally 17k lilo fic. beta'd by my lovely laurencake. a kind of ‘doctor who cast’ au wherein they don’t actually do very much work. there’s also a Big Gay Freakout and way too many run-on sentences. any discrepancies in my description of the television industry is because I know very little about it.
apologies for any typos that slipped through.
Liam was minding his own business, thanks very much, when the whirlwind first arrived.
“Your get-up’s alright,” a voice from somewhere beyond the script he’d been holding in front of his nose said, “I’m glad they’re not making it too weird since Eleven kind of pulled that off best, didn’t he?”
Though briefly considering ignoring the intruder in his trailer, Liam sighed and lowered his script. He levelled an unimpressed look on the stranger before him. He looked like he belonged in college; his features were older but his red jeans were rolled up around the ankles and his t-shirt was splotched with a graphic design easily done with a few clicks on Photoshop if you had the right brushes (and Liam did). A beanie on the head and glasses perched on his nose -- yeah, this guy was definitely a student.
More importantly, he didn’t work in the studio.
“Sorry, but who are you?” asked Liam. He was trying to be polite but really, there was only so much niceties you could give to a teenage stranger in your trailer.
“I’m the new companion.” When he shrugged, he looked even more juvenile.
Liam frowned, flicking through the first few pages of his script. “I - what? I thought the companion this year was a -”
“Pretty, young girl?” the stranger laughed and made himself comfortable on Liam’s sofa. “Yeah, no, they decided on a change of pace. Too many strongly-worded letters, I suppose. So here I am, the young and pretty male alternate. Louis Tomlinson at your service, Doctor.”
“Is the story staying the same?” was all Liam could think to ask, staring at the words he’d been memorising and hoping it wasn’t for nothing.
“Basically, yes,” Louis said. “I mean, not exactly. There’s no vaguely romantic plot going on now, since ‘Torchwood’s where the gays are’ and all that.” He put air-quotes around each syllable of the sentence to emphasise his irritation. Liam frowned. That didn’t seem -- fair. He nearly said as much out loud, but caught himself in time. They hadn’t even started filming yet and if Liam were to be overheard badmouthing the showrunners... well, replacing him wouldn’t be all that difficult, he was sure. Hundreds of people must audition for the role of Britain’s favourite alien every regeneration.
Thirteen. It was kind of a big deal, to be the thirteenth reincarnation of the Doctor. Eleven’s run was silly but mind-meltingly horrifying and Twelve’s, though set up as a darker and edgier sort, was cut short by the untimely death of the actor. Liam wasn’t sure what they expected of him just yet.
“I can see why they picked you,” said Louis, reminding Liam of his presence. “You’ve got the old eyes.”
“I’ve not,” Liam protested.
“Do so.”
Liam would have happily continued arguing with his -- co-star? -- had Niall not poked his head in the trailer door just then. Liam liked Niall. He wasn’t entirely sure what Niall did, exactly, but then, he wasn’t sure of ninety-percent of the actual jobs of the people around him. “Hi, lads,” he said. “Time for the read-through.”
“Duty calls,” sighed Louis. He stood like it was a chore, like he didn’t beat out a lot of competitors for his job. Liam found it grating but Niall just grinned and shook his head.
“Whatever, Tommo,” Niall said in a familiar voice. Of course they already knew each other. Liam suspected he was the only one who was so lost in his own world that he could barely remember the faces of the ants milling about their busy schedules. He supposed feeling this way, this sort of outcast way, was probably good for his portrayal of the Doctor, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
When Liam first stepped onto the newly-constructed set of the TARDIS, he felt instantly at home. He knew it was just his investment in the role talking, but he couldn’t help running his hands over the dashboard and pulling knobs like they would work and he’d be whisked away on an adventure.
He looked up and noticed with a jolt that Louis was watching him. He bit his lip to stop the unnecessary apology, and Louis just smiled a little.
“Like you were born for it,” he said, and Liam’s heart felt like it would float away.
Louis was a surprisingly competent actor. It’s not that he could act that was surprising, it was the ease from which he switched from Benny Cooper, budding architect, to Louis Tomlinson, goofball extraordinaire, when someone yelled cut -- like flicking a switch. Liam wished he could do that, could just drop the character and put on a grin and flirt with Mary the assistant director but he just wasn’t able to. He brought what felt like a thousand years of baggage to bed with him every night, sleep elusive because each time he closed his eyes he remembered the face of another fictional character who’d died for the bloody Doctor. Niall thought it was hilarious; Louis thought it was cause to fuss.
“I’m fine, really,” Liam said before Louis could even open his mouth this time.
Pausing in the entry to the TARDIS (instead of using the more easily accessible “fourth wall”, the dork), Louis smiled sheepishly. “Am I that obvious?”
“Your thoughts are always broadcast all over your face,” said Liam. “I doubt secrets are your forte. Subtlety definitely isn’t.”
A mask passed over Louis’ face; a cold one that sent chills up Liam’s arms. He peered into Liam’s eyes from across the TARDIS console, head tilting to one side. “You forget, Doctor, how good of an actor I really am.” And then the moment was broken and Louis was Louis again, all smiles and bubbliness, but it was still disconcerting. He didn’t hear Louis’ offer of tea until the fourth time he’d repeated it, and even then he could only nod dumbly.
How? How did someone just -- just stop and be another person, just like that? Confused and slightly envious, Liam finally left the set, trailing behind a chatty Louis.
After the fifth take of their first running scene, Louis was clutching a stitch in his side.
“How do you do this?” he gasped, glaring at Liam, who wasn’t so much as breathing hard. “I’d be impressed except that it means more work for me.”
“Dunno,” Liam shrugged. “I guess I’m just in good shape.”
“I hate you,” said Louis without heat.
Liam almost offered to train Louis himself, but stopped. That wasn’t his problem, that was Louis’ problem and probably some of the higher-ups’ problem as well, but it certainly wasn’t Liam’s.
The next day, he offered.
“Oh, goody,” Louis said when Niall handed them their new scripts. “I was wondering when we’d go to Cardiff.”
“We’re already in Cardiff,” Liam said. Louis poked his nose, which was not unusual in itself. Much to his dismay, Liam had learned via running with his ‘companion’ every Thursday and Sunday that Louis was a very touchy sort of person. He got right offended if Liam shirked away, too, so Liam couldn’t do anything but sit and let his personal space be invaded day after day.
“I meant as Benny and the Doctor.” He flipped to the ending like he always did. “Shit. Of course.”
Liam took the bait. “Of course what?”
“Spoilers,” Louis said, and it wasn’t until hours later, after he’d finished the whole script, that Liam realised he was actually dropping a hint to the ending.
Danielle Peazer was her name.
She came onto set with her big hair (was that a requirement for the role?) and trilling laugh and swishy dresses, and Liam thought he might have fallen in love right on the spot. The director loved her, said they had great chemistry, and only Louis thought to bring up how impossible it was that this character was returning. Well, the showrunners didn’t care, Liam didn’t care, and the fans who’d caught wind of the storyline were already deep in theorising mode, so he was outvoted.
“Well of course Liam wants you to stay,” Louis said over lunch one day. “He fancies the hell out of you.”
Liam inhaled half his donut rather suddenly. Niall rubbed his back through the ensuing coughing fit, and Liam spared him only a quick appreciative glance before glowering at the nuisance across the table. For her part, Danielle only laughed and said, “Is that so?”, all mischievous and cheeky and god, yes, Liam fancied the hell out of her.
Offense was the best defense, though, so he said, “At least I’m not the one with a laminated Harry Styles poster taped to my ceiling.” Louis flushed a colour red that Liam hadn’t seen before.
“Yes, well,” was all Louis said.
There was a quiet few moments then, and Liam felt like maybe he should apologise, maybe he’d crossed some line he hadn’t been aware of, because Louis was fiddling with his cutlery and acting -- well, embarrassed. Which was certainly not an emotion Liam was familiar (or comfortable) with seeing on Louis’ face. He was still learning all the ins and outs of Louis, what was okay and what wasn’t, and he’d thought Louis’ crush on the winner of the 2012 X Factor was fair game. At least it had been. Without an audience.
Then Niall said, “Well, Harry Styles is fit,” and the slight tension was broken by laughter. No argument there.
Danielle cornered him after lunch to ask him on a proper date, and not even the kissy noises Louis made through the rest of the day’s rehearsals could wipe the grin off Liam’s face.
He wasn’t entirely certain he was allowed to, but he texted Louis rather late that night. Just a simple ‘can u come over’. Not thirty seconds later, he received an ‘alright bts’ -- no questions asked. Liam had never really had friends he could just invite over at all hours, nor did he ever think he wanted them. It was almost a blessing, though, when Louis knocked on his door with half a six-pack under one arm and a bag of greasy fast food in the other.
“You know I can’t have either of those things,” Liam said, moving aside to let Louis into his flat.
Never bothered by the prospect of making himself at home, Louis dropped his things onto the kitchen counter, then hoisted himself up beside them.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Louis. “This was my evening, and you interrupted it. I was also watching Avengers Assemble, but I couldn’t be arsed to bring it along as well.” He paused and just looked at Liam for a long while. This was another thing Louis did often, like he was trying to puzzle Liam out. “I take it -- so, the date didn’t go well, then?”
Liam could’ve gone into the whole story; the way he couldn’t shut up about work, the way she hadn’t seemed to mind, the reason she hadn’t minded. The camera flashes. It’d been a long night, though, so he just let his shoulders slump and condensed it to, “Publicity stunt.” Louis’ hiss of indignation was welcome, and Liam could see how hard he was trying not to just start cussing her out.
After what seemed like a lot of struggling, Louis sighed. “I’m sorry, Li. I know... well, I know you really liked her.”
“Not so much with the liking anymore,” Liam assured him.
“Girls suck,” Louis summed up. “I knew there was a reason I swore off ‘em entirely.”
Liam had suspected, of course, but suspicions were one thing. Having them casually confirmed was another entirely, and he fought to keep his face neutral in case Louis was waiting for a reaction. He didn’t seem to be, preoccupied as he was with finding the last chips at the bottom of the McDonald’s bag, but Liam had had friends come out to him before, and there was always that moment of panic that they’d be pushed away.
So he said, “I don’t think blokes would end up being much better, honestly. I think it’s people-in-general who are the jerks.”
Smiling slightly, Louis tilted his head to the side.
“Maybe,” he allowed. “I haven’t been on enough dates to know.”
Liam did a double-take. “You’re joking.” Even Liam knew that Louis was, well, really attractive. One generally had to be, to be in the business they were, but Liam thought that he would’ve been far above the average anyway. Louis, who was munching on some disgusting-looking chips, raised his eyebrows.
“No, yeah,” he said, “I’ve just had the one boyfriend in all the years I’ve been able to understand the concept. And I guess I had dates before that, with girls, but those don’t count.”
Not wanting Louis to see how much this genuinely surprised him, Liam went to the fridge and peered in. Blimey, he had to go shopping. He was almost out of milk, for one thing, and running out of milk was every Brit’s worst nightmare. He spotted a still-ripe apple on the bottom shelf and bent to get it. He wondered if Louis was looking at his arse, then immediately felt guilty for assuming such a thing.
“Tell me more, tell me more,” Liam mocked as he stood, apple in hand, “like, did he have a car?”
He didn’t expect Louis to laugh as hard as he did. His arms wrapped around his waist as he leaned forwards, short bursts of laughter escaping his lips sporadically.
“S-sorry,” he got out between giggles. “Just. I was Danny for a school play and he did the set design and I literally wore his varsity jacket around school, and. Yeah. You couldn’t have picked a funnier way to start that conversation.”
“So you were Danny and Sandy, in a way,” Liam said.
“I was a very confused adolescent.”
“I’d imagine so.” Partially because he was curious -- but mostly because his heart still stung a little from Danielle’s intentions and Louis looked so very happy now that they were on the topic -- Liam asked, “What was his name?”
“Zayn Malik.”
Liam frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Because,” Louis said, swelling up with pride, “he swindled eighth place in the X Factor. Same year as Harry Styles and everything.”
“Wow, bet you wish you were there,” Liam snorted without thinking.
Louis barked out a laugh.
“You’ve no idea. Most sexually frustrated I’ve been since I was fifteen.” He paused, then gave Liam a rather soft look. “I really am sorry about Dani. If it helps, you can make faces behind her back with me during rehearsal on Monday.”
Surprisingly, that did sound like it would help.
“Sorry about Avengers Assemble,” Liam said. Louis said it wasn’t a problem, that he’d seen it more times than was probably healthy in any case, he was just glad he could help, and it felt kind of like a goodbye, so Liam blurted, “You should stay over. It’s -- you know, it’s late. And, yeah.”
Louis agreed happily enough, stuffing the beer in Liam’s fridge and the wrappers of his grossly over-salted meal into the bin. He jerked his head in the direction of the couch, and Liam shook his head.
“Only got the one blanket,” he said. “So you better not be a hog.”
“I’m not promising anything,” said Louis, grinning.
It occurred to Liam just as he was about to drift off, Louis’ back warm against his own, that perhaps some of what he’d said and done could be misconstrued as flirting; in the same moment he realised how much he actually hated sleeping alone and shrugged mentally, his breathing matched evenly with Louis’.
Whatever. He’d deal with it in the morning.
He woke up before Louis did, planning on just getting up and going on with his day, but Louis appeared to be some kind of stealth-snuggler. Liam was trapped by arms around his torso and a leg hitched over his hip, Louis’ face smushed into the side of his neck. He sighed. Snuggling was definitely not part of the job description of being Liam’s friend. Still, he didn’t want to wake Louis when they didn’t have anywhere to be that day, so after fidgeting to get comfortable and ignoring Louis’ sleepy groan of protest, Liam coaxed his brain back into sleep.
The next time his eyes opened, the clock said 10:23. Liam had a moment of panic before remembering he had the day off. He looked behind him, but Louis was gone.
He thought at first that he’d left, but there was singing coming from his kitchen that he sure hoped was Louis.
“I got chiilllllls, they’re multiplyin’!”
Liam shoved his blanket off and stood, popping the kink out of his shoulder. He wasn’t used to sleeping on one side the whole night, and his arm was protesting with the telltale pins and needles. Another thing he wasn’t used to was breakfast being made for him; Louis was scrambling eggs in a frying pan while he danced on the spot and sang one of the prolific songs of Grease.
“You better shape up,” Liam said, deadpan. Louis made a noise that he would later deny as a squeal and spun around.
“I was just --”
“Making breakfast?” Liam walked over and leaned against the counter opposite the spitting frying pan. “Carry on, then, I’m not waiting all day for some eggs.” He flicked Louis’ chin, causing him to smile.
Liam couldn’t help returning the smile, but then his thoughts from last night sprang up again. What if Louis thought he was, like, interested? He didn’t want to be That Straight Guy who thought every gay man wanted in his pants, but he also didn’t want to be That Jerk who led someone on just because he liked their company. Not exactly sure how to broach the subject, Liam ended up blurting, “I like girls.”
“Good for you?” Louis managed to side-eye him without turning around.
“No, I --” cutting himself off, Liam made a few vague hand gestures. “I just mean. Like. I’m not saying you fancy me because that’s a little. Presumptuous? I just -- I wanted to make it clear that I don’t fancy you, alright?”
Now Louis did turn, frying pan in hand. He was grinning. “I didn’t really think you did, but thanks.”
“Good, yeah,” Liam said, and Louis said, “Plates?”, making Liam stupidly reply, “I have them.” He was laughed at but he found he didn’t mind very much.
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