wip amnesty, as they call it
Some things I'll never finish! These were the very first things I wrote for this fandom (well over a year ago), and I know they were just going to become ridiculously long and I've just really lost interest with them. I've got hoards of other wips right now so I'm just letting these ones go. Also! A few pieces of these were used in that 50 sentences thing I did, so if you recognize any from that, woo.
1. The superpowers au, was going to end in OT5 eventually. Set/written during the X Factor Tour, I apologize that this is really just a bunch of scrambled scenes and not really any continuity/transitions, that's how I write.
“You’ve got my red jumper, right?” Liam asks, pulling his toothbrush out of his bag. Touring and sharing clothes doesn’t make for very much organization, and Liam would think about doing more laundry and living less out of his bags, but he gets some sort of satisfaction when he thinks about how no one is around to tell him to put his clothes away.
“Yeah, here.” Harry balances precariously on the edge of the bed and unzips his suitcase, grabbing the jumper and tossing it in Liam’s pile, all the while never taking his eyes off the TV. Liam sits down on his bed and starts taking off his shoes. He might shower, but there’s no one here to tell him to do that, either.
Liam heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth, hears Harry laughing at whatever he’s watching. They’ve all given up mocking Liam’s nightly routine, especially Louis, who’s actually taken to joining Liam whenever they share a room.
Liam packs up, goes back to the room and takes off the top duvet on his bed that always makes him too hot. Harry’s still lying on his stomach only in his underwear - Liam assumes those will be gone before long, too, mesmerized by the TV.
“Can you get that light?” Liam gestures to the one by Harry’s bed.
Liam turns for a split second, zipping up his toothbrush, and the room goes dark. He turns back to Harry, who’s still watching TV like he never moved.
“Wait,” Liam says
“What?” Harry asks, still staring at his show.
“How’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Harry finally peels his eyes away from the screen.
“Turn out the light.”
“Well, Liam, there’s an on and off switch and-”
“No, no, no, you didn’t move.”
Harry freezes, and Liam thinks that three months ago he wouldn’t have even noticed that. “What are you talking about?” Harry asks, flopping onto his side to stare at Liam incredulously.
“You didn’t get up. To flip the switch.”
Harry doesn’t say anything. Liam claps his hands twice, but the light stays turned off and then he feels kind of dumb.
“Do it again,” he demands.
Harry stares, and then, “Liam, you are seriously mental, it’s a light. They turn on and they turn off and that’s exactly what I did.”
Liam narrows his eyes. “Mhm.” Harry very pointedly looks back at the TV and not in Liam’s direction.
The next night, it’s the same thing, but this time it’s the TV. Liam crawls under his duvet, Harry doing the exact same thing in the bed opposite him, and the TV blinks off. Liam scowls in the dark, but doesn’t say anything.
In the morning, Liam takes his shower after Harry. He comes out, dressed and hair dripping, looks at the texts Louis has sent him asking him to come down and eat - he’s sent six, each text only one word. He only does that when he’s “bored out of my mind, Liam.” Over Christmas, Liam got 60 texts slowly asking him what he got Louis for his birthday.
He looks up, glancing at the TV, and sees something move out of the corner of his eye. Harry is sitting on his bed, tying his shoes, and the towel he brought out with him after his shower is floating. In the air.
“Um,” Liam says stupidly, but. He’s pretty sure there is no intelligent reaction in this situation.
Harry’s head flies up, face whitening. The towel drops to the floor between them.
“Uh,” he says back.
“You. That.” Liam is seriously standing there with his phone in his hand, frozen. Because the towel was floating. And Harry is disturbingly calm about it.
“So,” Harry breathes out. “I might have something to tell you.”
“You might? Harry, what-”
Behind Liam, some sort of commotion interrupts him. He turns, finds Louis and Niall wrestling in the doorway. “Hello, lads!” Louis calls out, face going red from where Niall’s got him pinned to the floor.
Liam turns back to Harry, who shoulders past him, wringing that stupid towel. He goes into the bathroom and Liam hears the door lock behind him.
Niall’s sitting contently on Louis’ chest, who doesn’t seem to mind much at all, pulling his phone out to text.
“Something wrong with Harry?” Niall asks.
“He probably misses my presence while he sleeps. I’ve been told I can be quite soothing,” Louis says seriously, and Niall tumbles off him laughing.
“You can room with him tonight, then,” and Liam doesn’t even care how bitter he sounds. He steps over Niall and Louis and goes to find Aiden. Or anyone not in his band.
--
Harry gets the best at it the quickest. Which, of course, of course Harry has to be amazing at everything he does, and apparently being a superhero or whatever is in that category too.
In the rest of their defenses, Harry’s is relatively easy to hide. If he wants, he can just move something when he wants, right out in the open. Liam’s seen it, watched Harry push his limits and strain just to move one little thing, just to see if he can do it. He never gets caught.
It’s kind of unfair to Louis, really. It’s not like he can set things ablaze whenever he wants. Well, he could, but there are some things even Louis would get looked at strangely for. And Niall can’t very well just lift off all the time. Zayn gets around when he can, usually late at night or early morning, when people won’t mind him being in one place one minute, and another the next.
Liam is in a firm stage of denial. Except sometimes. Sometimes, it’s kind of cool to just disappear. If you’re into that, which Liam isn’t. Shut up, Louis.
--
Sometimes, when they practice a new song and Zayn has the lead, he’ll flash away for a second.
Or when they try out new steps, trying to add choreography, see what it’s like when they get to do their own stuff.
Or when they have to talk about solos, either for the show that night or for the record later.
He always comes back, usually straight away, because he hasn’t practiced enough to go somewhere and stay. To everyone else, it probably just looks confusing, but not enough to question it. But that’s not the point.
Everything Zayn doesn’t want to deal with, he teleports away. Liam wonders if anyone else appreciates the irony.
--
Liam walks into the room he’s sharing with Harry, Louis tagging along behind him, and Zayn is standing there. Zayn, who he thinks he just saw downstairs talking to Aiden and not in any way coming up with them, is in the middle of his room looking confused.
“Um, hi,” he says, and waves awkwardly.
“Zayner!” Louis bounds in and wraps his arms around Zayn. “We’ve come to wake up Hazza!” Who, Liam notices, is currently sprawled on his bed, mouth open and dead to the world.
“Oh. Yeah. Um, thought I’d help, you know,” Zayn stammers, trying to pry himself loose from Louis’ grip. Liam is maybe laughing and not helping at all.
“Hang on.” Louis freezes, Zayn still trapped and mumbling something about breathing. “You were just downstairs, weren’t you?” Zayn shakes his head. “Yes, you were, you were talking to Cher... I think.” Louis looks as confused as Liam feels.
“No, no, I was up here. Waiting. For you. To wake up Harry.”
“So you were watching him sleep?” Louis lets Zayn go. “That’s mildly creepy, mate.” Zayn opens his mouth to protest, but Louis is off, hopping on Harry’s bed and shaking him awake.
“Wha’s goin’ on?” Harry yawns and covers his head with the covers. Which is good because Liam’s pretty sure he’s not wearing any clothes.
“Time to get up!” Louis is probably being way too loud, if Harry’s groan is any indication. “Also, Zayn was totally watching you sleep.”
“I was not!” Zayn’s voice is going kind of high and Liam gets a dirty look for his laugh.
“He was. He even told us.” Someone laughs in the hall outside their room and Louis flies off the bed, attention already elsewhere.
Harry’s voice comes from under the covers. “Zayn, you can watch me sleep anytime. I don’t mind.”
Zayn scoffs, speechless, his hands flapping around.
--
After losing the stupid game at least five times, Liam maybe starts to get a little suspicious that Harry is like, pushing his controller buttons or something. He’s sneaky like that, with all this new power stuff, but they all kind of have to be. Like, the other day, he was talking with Aiden-
Shit, he just lost again. Harry’s laughing and Liam’s brow furrows. “Hey, are you-”
Louis bursts into their room, breathless and looking mildly disheveled. He straightens up before he speaks. “So,” he says, “I think I just set Cher’s hair on fire.”
“You what?” Liam asks as Harry pauses their game.
“Um. Yeah.” Louis at least has the decency to look like he feels a little bit bad, but mostly he just looks surprised. He swallows. “Yeah. So, I’m just gonna. Shower, or something.”
“Okay,” Liam says slowly.
As soon as Louis shuts the bathroom door, Niall flings the door open, as breathless as Louis. “Did you-”
“Yeah,” Harry and Liam say in unison, turning back to their game.
Niall though, he doubles over laughing, coming to sit down on the second bed. “Absolutely brilliant.”
A beat passes, Niall watching them play and Liam checking to make sure he, and he only, has control of what buttons are being pushed. Then, a shrill scream comes from the bathroom.
“Zayn! Get out!”
Liam sighs and pauses the game again as Harry and Niall fall off the beds laughing.
--
One night, they lose it.
In the walk up to the main stage, the security line breaks and Liam gets swarmed by the girls, Harry and Niall’s backs getting farther and farther ahead of him. He stops singing altogether, feels Louis and Zayn pressing against his back, and there are a million hands coming at him and grabbing, and Liam can’t move and he kind of panics and leaves. For a split second, he feels himself disappear, the sounds around him muffled like he’s underwater. He comes back as fast as he left, the noise roaring and the screams even louder than before. Someone finally disentangles them from the mob of girls and Liam rushes to the stage with Zayn and Louis. He spends two songs trying to catch his breath, getting worried looks from Harry.
The last song, and they’ve broken off to different parts of the stage, Harry going to the center and the other four splitting for the sides. He’s with Niall, arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders, when Liam suddenly feels himself rising. He looks down at his feet, seeing if they’ve set off one of the lifts by accident, but no, of course not. Niall’s feet are lifting off the stage, and he, seemingly oblivious, is taking Liam with him. Liam holds him down by his shoulders, making both of them miss a cue, but Niall stands flat footed back on the ground when they have to all meet in center stage for the ending.
The atmosphere backstage is completely different than usual. There’s the busy commotion and chaos, people getting ready for Matt’s set and the group number, but Liam can see them watching from the corner of their eyes as they make their way to a dressing room, waiting for one more trick.
“You completely disappeared,” Harry says, turned on Zayn as soon as the door shuts behind them, breathing hard and eyes wide. He looks to Liam. “You both did.”
When Liam looks at Niall, he kind of wants to go crawl in bed until the next show, because no one should look like that. “Sorry, guys,” Niall says quietly.
Harry’s eyes soften. “Just - you all need to practice. You need to get better at controlling it, so we’re not stuck out there like that again.”
Zayn gives him a jerky head nod and Liam feels himself do the same, squashing down the frustration and urge to just tell Harry that it’s not that easy for them and he doesn’t want to practice anymore, he doesn’t.
Louis has been lurking silently behind Harry, head bent toward the floor and Liam can’t see his face. “Louis?” he asks tentatively.
“Louis? Louis.” Harry crowds in close to him. “Lou? What’s wrong?”
Louis tilts his head, trying to meet Harry’s eyes, and Liam sucks in a breath. Sweat is dripping down his face, his hair clinging to his forehead.
“Hey.” Harry tilts his chin up. “Hey, look at me.”
Louis opens his eyes and they roll around, searching. Liam kind of wants to call some sort of adult figure for help because he doesn’t know what this is; Louis certainly wasn’t like that five minutes ago.
“Harry?” Louis’ voice is barely there, but Harry breathes a sigh of relief.
“Louis, what - what’s going on?” Harry’s voice is high and choked, and Liam seriously cannot keep watching his band fall apart.
“Harry.” There’s a long pause, Louis swaying on his feet and looking at his hands like he’s never seen them before. “‘S really hot, Harry.”
Harry looks down in surprise at Louis’ hands. He grabs them with his own, fingers curling around Louis’ palms, and presses his forehead into Louis’ sweaty one. “No, no, c’mon, Louis,” Liam hears him whisper fiercely. He exchanges worried looks with Niall and Zayn, hovering next to them, unsure.
“Harry, can I,” Zayn tries, but then he starts again, “Harry, does he need like, a doctor or something, because I seriously do not-”
“He needs water,” Harry says, eyes never leaving Louis’. “He needs cold water. A shower would probably work best, but he’ll have to wait until we get back to the hotel.”
Zayn takes a moment to look completely confused before he and Niall run off to find water bottles, leaving Liam with Harry and a semi-conscious Louis.
Harry turns to him. “This is another one of those things I kind of wanted to tell you about,” he says, giving Liam a rueful smile.
“It’s okay,” Liam assures him, even though it’s really not. “Just, he needs to be better like, now.” Liam steps toward them and feels the heat rolling off Louis in waves. Harry’s curls are dampening, sweat beading on his own forehead.
“Louis? You okay?” Liam puts a hand on his shoulder, almost takes it off when he feels the heat.
“Right as rain, Li.” Louis’ voice sounds completely wrecked, his head lolling a bit, eyes searching for Liam’s.
--
“If you put that near my face one more time,” Harry says slowly, “I’m going to take something inside your body and move it to the outside. With my mind.”
Louis has been flicking a flame in his hands on and off for the better part of an hour. Harry’s been edging increasingly further away, smoothing his hair back every few minutes and looking annoyed.
Louis narrows his eyes. “You can’t do that.” Still, Liam watches him grab his phone, something cool he won’t be tempted to set on fire.
“Dunno. You could be the first I ever try it on.” Louis’ face falls and Harry smirks, goes back to the show he was half paying attention to.
--
They’re spending every waking moment together, orbiting around each other again, like at the contestants’ house and even before, at Harry’s. They’re connected in a new way, drawn to each other, and they can tell exactly where one another is at all times, but Liam can’t tell if that’s because of the powers or not.
They all start sleeping in the same room. After the third time Zayn, Harry, and Niall fall asleep tangled up together in one bed, they figure it’s just easier to share. When Liam draws the short straw and has to ask about only booking one room for them, he gets weird looks and a lecture about how multiple rooms are required for security and safety or something, Liam doesn’t really care. So they still get two rooms every night, and one always goes untouched.
Night is easier for them. The day is full of rehearsals and performances and traveling, and just generally a lot of people, and they very well can’t just disappear or set things on fire in front of them.
At night, they can practice. Depending on the layout of the hotel and if any minders are around, they can leave the room. Niall can float around without anyone making a fuss and Liam and Zayn can disappear for however long they want. They start getting used to it, start to make it come natural to them, and it’s good.
Except for Louis.
They discover there is almost no way to play around with fire without anyone noticing, or some sort of legal consequence. After setting off three smoke alarms, Louis is restricted to only making the tiniest flames, and absolutely no setting things on fire. It’s quite frustrating, really.
--
Louis is half asleep on Liam’s shoulder, bodies aligned and legs tangled. Harry is on Liam’s other side, out like a light and snoring softly. Their nights are like this now: when exhaustion brings tired eyes and shaky words, they crawl into bed together, intertwined and surrounded.
“Liam,” Louis whispers.
Liam hmms quietly, not opening his eyes because he was so close, almost asleep.
“Liaaam.” If he was awake, Liam would roll his eyes at Louis’ whine. But he’s not awake. He’s totally sleeping.
“Fine.” Silence, then, “Do you like it?” Louis asks hesitantly, and oh no. Liam knows what this is. This is the part where Louis, half out of his mind without sleep, starts rambling, starts saying things that are totally ridiculous about himself and the band, until one of them shushes him up and he finally sleeps.
“Go to sleep, Louis,” Liam mumbles, because he’s not about to walk into that conversation - whatever it’s about - without anyone else awake to help him out of it.
He’s quiet again for a few minutes, and Liam thinks Louis must have gone to sleep, too tired to finish his question.
Liam’s just about to drop off himself, when Louis’ head lolls on his shoulder, and he mumbles, so quiet, “You must like it. I’d like it if I got to disappear whenever I wanted,” and Liam freezes. Louis’ slow, even breathing tells Liam he’s finally asleep.
Liam turns to his back, and spends the next few hours staring at the ceiling.
2. The one where Liam leaves first and the rest of them follow. I don't think I had much planned out for this, so it wasn't going anywhere. But it was going to end in working OT5 and happiness.
Liam calls one night and throws around the word America. A lot. Well, a lot for someone like Liam. Then, he starts using the word permanent, and Louis gets worried.
A week later, he’s on a plane.
Harry tangles his fingers with Louis’, their bodies aligned and making shadows on the walls: Louis wonders why, in the last five years, this of all things never changed. Harry asks him what he thinks Liam is running from. Louis doesn’t know.
Harry takes the first flight out in the morning.
Niall’s spent more time in Ireland in the last year than in the first two they were together, and Zayn is around even less.
Louis is torn, and everyone can shut the fuck up because that song started not being funny years ago.
--
White Eskimo had one hit, in 2014. A week after Harry’s 20th birthday, the single dropped, and rumors flew about the next big thing competing biggest boy band - “Harry, how’s it feel to have your ex-best mate sharing the charts with you?” They’d gotten their act together, along with a decent singer, and every time they turned on the radio that month, Louis watched Harry’s face fall a little bit more.
It was short lived: a month after their album was released, Will went on a bender and tried to - unsuccessfully - sell whatever he could to the papers. The lights in Harry’s eyes slowly returned after that. Louis had deemed Will a lost cause years ago, anyway.
--
Louis leaves six messages on Zayn’s phone the day Harry leaves, eight on Niall’s. He never gets a call back, from anyone.
It’s been a month since Liam’s left, three weeks since Harry. Six days ago, he decided food was not a top priority and started living off sweets and coke. It’s been three days since he last showered and he’s fairly sure his clothes have slowly started moving to the laundry room on their own. He might be drinking a lot.
He has a lot of free time now, without Liam and Harry around to fret about their future or whatever. The flat is quiet, and when Louis walks around late at night he swears it echoes.
He went out to the pubs with Matt and Aiden a few times (out since 2012; the end of the world does strange things to people) but that got old after the third time Matt drunkenly proclaimed his love for Aiden and alerted everyone in the bar that Louis was “single and ready to mingle, but mostly kind of sad and lonely.”
Hannah was coming by every few days, but Louis told her not to bother. She didn’t need to miss work, and they’ve been broken up for three years, it’s not like she’s obligated. Louis was a little drunk when he told her that and Hannah looked a little mad when she left that day. He hasn’t heard from her since.
Louis blinks, another week goes by. He’s checking his phone (old habit), sees four voice mails from Lottie.
“Hey, it’s me. Mum wants to know if you died or something. I’m not concerned or anything, just give us a call.”
“Hey, you’re still at the flat, right? I’m gonna stop by after class and see if you’re home. The girls all say hi.”
“Okay, could you at least call us, Louis? Mum’s super worried.”
“I hope you’re okay, Lou.”
After the last one, his phone gives the low battery warning. He puts it on its charger, grabs a change of clothes that look generally clean, and gets in the shower.
He gets out, steam rolling with him, and stares at his bed. He empties the blankets of all the sweet wrappers that have been carelessly thrown about the last few weeks and picks up his clothes. Usually, Liam gathers their clothes and sorts the colors. Harry prefers hitting the buttons on the washer and folding things.
His phone rings and Louis nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound. He grabs it, freezes before he can read who it is. Three more rings and his palms are sweating. He tells himself to man up, picking it up without looking at the name.
“Hello?” His voice is rough, unused. He’s pretty sure the last actual conversation he had that wasn’t with the TV was well over a week ago.
“Louis?” Harry’s voice sounds hesitant, clear but distant, and Louis’ stomach swoops. He imagines the space between them, wherever Harry is.
“Yeah,” he says, but it comes out wrong and he clears his throat. “Yeah?”
The line crackles as Harry breathes. “Listen, this call is kind of ridiculously expensive, and I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you, I’m so fucking sorry, Louis-”
“Harry.” Louis stops him, because he doesn’t want to know where that sentence is going.
He hears Harry take a breath. “I found Liam.”
Louis hears someone talking loudly in the background, and then something bangs and the noise stops. His mind rewinds, replays what Harry’s just said.
“You what? You found him?”
“Well, I found out where he’s staying, only just a few days ago. I’ve been looking for weeks, Louis, I would have called, or - or something, I swear.” Harry’s voice is thick through the phone, like it’s filled with everything he hasn’t said in so long. Louis closes his eyes, tries not to think of the month of radio silence.
“Where is he? Where are you guys?” He waits for Harry to say Boston, or Miami, even LA, places Liam loved that would at least be familiar, at least be logical to run off to.
“Louis,” Harry says, “Liam’s got a house. In Chicago.”
For a second, Louis thinks about hanging up the phone. Hanging up, drinking more coke, and going back to bed. But Harry’s breath stutters and he sniffles, and Louis is pretty sure he’s crying and he might be mad, but he’s not the one who hangs up anymore.
“Chicago,” Louis repeats. He hears Harry let out a jerky breath, and yeah, he’s definitely crying now. Louis can see him, sitting alone on his hotel bed and covering his face like he always does, hair hanging over his eyes. He makes a decision.
“Hey.” He waits. “Hey.”
Harry’s meek, “Yeah?” finally comes.
“I’m gonna come, okay? I’m gonna be there as soon as I can.”
Harry sniffs. “Okay,” and he sounds young, and Louis wishes he was there right now, fixing this whole thing and making sure Harry never sounds like that again.
“Just - just pick me up at the airport, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Harry says, and his voice cracks. “I’ll be waiting.”
Louis hangs up. He opens his laptop, brings up flights to Chicago; he can leave by tonight. He ransacks Liam and Harry’s wardrobes, taking whatever clothes they didn’t and throwing them on his bed. He’s not sure how long he’s going to be there (if he’s going to be gone for a week, a month, more) but he’s also pretty sure neither Liam nor Harry packed all that many clothes. He toes at the luggage under his bed; he’d only finally gotten it empty from the last tour a few weeks ago.
Louis checks his phone again, texts Harry his flight times. He thumbs over Zayn and Niall’s names,and finally decides to send them the same message: gone 2 chicago. please txt back.
Chicago. Louis has only been a few times, and only on tours. It was cold this time of year. Louis looks at the lack of jumpers on his bed. They’ll have to go shopping.
aaaand then there were some more flashback-y scenes and fighting during recording and Harry hit Zayn and it all seemed quite dramatic and improbable, so I scrapped that.
3. Harry/Liam/Louis fumbling their way through a relationship, because I apparently had a really big thing for this OT3. Again, set/written during X Factor Tour and it's just bits and pieces of scenes, and I'm sorry Andy Samuels makes an appearance.
Liam thinks his life is really unfair. Seriously, it's just completely and totally unfair.
He goes on X Factor and gets put in this band and all his dreams kind of start to come true, and he makes the greatest friends he’ll ever have, and then he gets thrown into this relationship with not one but two of his band members, a stupid relationship where sometimes just looking at those two makes him react all ridiculous and stupid - like when Harry smiles and Liam’s heart stutters in his chest and he has to grin back, or when Louis is over tired and sleepy-eyed and Liam’s brain quits working for a few minutes-
He may or may not be falling for them. That has to be it. Liam considers himself a reasonably intelligent person, and there is no legitimate reason for him to be acting this way around Harry and Louis unless he is possibly a little bit in love with them.
Completely and totally unfair.
--
They get a few days’ break before the week tour begins, and it almost seems like a waste to Liam until he gets home and sees his mum and dad and Ruth and Nicola and Andy hangs out for a bit because when is Andy not at his house when Liam is home? Andy sits on his couch and eats his food and jokes with Liam like he’s been doing it for years and not for just these past few months, and Liam likes that.
It’s late, morning late, and Liam is lounging on the couch with Andy. His family went to bed hours ago and they’ve been sitting in the half darkened room mainly just throwing food into each other’s mouths across the furniture. Liam’s pretty sure Andy’s gone to sleep because he hasn’t seen the glow from the iPad or his phone for a good ten minutes. Liam throws an arm across his eyes, pressing down and watching the shapes on the back of his eyelids make movies. He sees faces and stage lights, crowds of people and grabbing hands-
The candy wrapper crinkles when it hits him square in the jaw. “Wake up, lazy bones.”
Liam moves his arm and opens his eyes. He blinks a few times, realizing there’s not much difference between his closed eyes and the dark room. He thinks there should be.
“Have you actually nodded off on me now?” Liam feels Andy shift up, movements stiff from sitting in the same position for hours. The iPad glows as it unlocks and Liam can see Andy’s face again in the light. Liam kicks him gently in the shin where their legs are touching to let him know he’s awake.
Andy lets out a laugh at something he’s read, not too loud this late at night. Liam sits up and feels his stomach lurch because he’s thinking of the tour and being away and not doing this for awhile.
“Hey.” His voice is entirely too quiet for the night they’ve had and it sounds hoarse and unused, like they haven’t spoken in hours. Andy types a bit more before he clicks off the iPad, setting it aside and looking at Liam. The room feels even darker now that that light’s gone off too.
Andy slouches back against the couch and Liam tries again, trying not to be overly serious, but he wants to at least tell Andy, because besides his band, Andy is his best friend. “Hey, um,” and it sounds better.
Andy’s opening whatever sweets they’ve got left scattered about them, stuffing his face and chewing obnoxiously and acting stupidly uninterested, and Liam knows he’s waiting for him to speak, but he seriously can’t, he cannot. This is it: he’s going to let this chance fly right by, this moment where he could have talked to Andy, asked him what he should actually do in this situation.
Andy starts out, “You know, you,” the same time Liam blurts, “I’mkindofhavingsexwithLouisandHarry,” and fuck, fuck, fuck.
Andy stops. And starts again. “You... Wait, what?”
Liam sighs exasperatedly, because he so does not think he can say that sentence again. He breathes in. “I said, I-”
“No, no, no, I heard you. I think. At least, I think I heard something I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.” Andy’s brow is still furrowed, confused, but he’s smirking a bit.
“Andy,” and Liam’s whining now, because Andy is supposed to be the helpful best friend right now, not the teasing one.
“I’m just trying to - I - Both of them, mate?” Andy’s smile is amused and kind of awed and Liam is going to die, just die right there on his couch and never figure out whole sex-with-his-bandmates issue.
“Okay, okay, um.” Andy runs a hand over his face, looking suddenly incredibly awake for the hour while Liam thinks of ways he can block this conversation from his future memories. “Okay, um. I’m kinda just, what do you want me to say, Liam? Like, is it the guy thing, because you know I don’t care about that, right? The band mate thing is another story, because I didn’t see that coming, but, really, looking back on it, there were some subtle-”
“Andy, okay, please stop talking.” Dying. Right here, in his dark living room. With Andy Samuels ranting about like, subtext or something. Liam covers his face with his hands.
“Liam... Hey, Liam.” Andy’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, and when Liam lifts his head he sees the expression on his face is the same. “What’s up?”
I think I’m in love with them, is that okay? Liam says, “I don’t know, just. No one else knows, and I wanted you to.”
Andy’s face says he isn’t satisfied with his answer. “No one else? Zayn and Niall don’t-”
“No, and we’re planning on keeping it that way, for now.”
“Liam.” Andy says his name with stupid gentle tone again. Liam’s starting to hate it. “You know I’m not going to tell anyone, right? I wouldn’t do that to you guys.” Liam nods. “And you know you can tell me anything, about like whatever is going on? Well, obviously not everything now, I mean sex with-”
“Andy!” Seriously, maybe death would be easier than trying to figure out love or whatever.
---
Liam doesn’t have a clue where they are. And he really doesn’t care.
Half an hour ago, he felt the bus halt and heard someone in the back say something about getting food. He tumbled out of his bunk, still wearing Louis’s sweats, and he hasn’t been out of the lounge area all day and they don’t have a show tonight, so he throws on shoes and a hoodie (also Louis’) and hopes it isn’t too cold out.
Wherever they are, there’s water. And it’s windy. And Liam’s been standing on this pier forever and there has been no mention or sign of food, which is disappointing. He shivers a bit in his hoodie, arms wrapped around his middle to keep his hands warm. In front of him near the metal bars separating them from the water, Louis, Harry, and Niall are playing some completely messed up form of tag involving a lot of tackling and hitting. Liam is fairly sure there’s no way for them to fall to their death, but he’s watching just in case.
“Food!” Zayn’s rushing toward him carrying a ridiculous amount of bags. Behind him, Cher and Wagner are fighting over the last box of McNuggets and Matt and Aiden are gleefully walking away from the two, carrying what Liam assumes is the rest of their food.
“Food, boys!” Zayn calls out to the others, who completely ignore him. Liam takes a bag from him and sits down with it, inspecting the contents. Near the water, someone shouts and yells “Cheat! Cheat!” and Zayn laughs as he sits next to Liam.
Liam starts eating (devouring, his mother would probably say, but he doesn’t care), feeling awake for the first time all day.
“Good?” Zayn asks, in a stupid accent, and Liam looks away from the water to his face. He’s wearing his glasses today, and Liam thinks he looks calmer, maybe, like he usually only looks when he’s sleeping. Liam decides this place - wherever it is - is kind of calming. He nods.
Louis yells as Niall knocks him flat on the ground, sitting atop him. Zayn laughs again when Harry joins him. Louis gets ground under him enough to topple them both over, Harry laughing and rolling a little too close to the edge of the cement. Liam maybe tenses up a little.
“You know, if they cause themselves serious injuries, I think it’s up to us to continue on with the band,” Zayn says seriously. Liam laughs. The wind comes up again and he’s starting to get cold from sitting on the ground. He feels better.
“Would we change our name?”
Zayn chews, thinking. “No, in honor of Harry, we keep the name.”
Liam laughs again. “This is a really awful hypothetical situation.”
Zayn wipes his hands on his jeans, nodding. The other three have quit their game now, seemingly content as they sprawl spread eagle on the ground looking up at the sky. Liam wonders if Zayn can see Louis and Harry’s fingers brushing, so so close, but when he turns to look at him and read his face, Zayn is staring at him.
“What?”
There’s a long pause before Zayn answers, then, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Liam huffs and looks away. Louis and Harry have put distance between each other. “Like, you know we’re friends and I’m here for you and all that?”
Zayn is studying his face when he turns back. Liam nods, “Yeah, I know,” because Zayn is being oddly sincere and Liam is maybe panicking a little because he doesn’t know what brought this on. “Same for you, too, okay?” he says hurriedly, but he means it as much as Zayn does.
Zayn grins and Liam feels guilty, the moment between them over.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Liam asks, looking at the water once again.
“No fucking clue,” Zayn says and Liam laughs.
In front of them, Louis is scrambling up from the ground. “When the hell did we get food?”
---
Liam slept nearly fourteen hours. When he woke up, neither Harry or Louis were in the room, and that was okay with him; he’s got no clue where he stands with them, and since the whole thing with Aiden, they’ve hardly spoken to him. Liam nearly chose to room with Zayn and Niall, but all the strange looks he got for his hesitance when room keys got passed out made him shoot that idea down quick. As far as Liam can tell, Harry and Louis are barely talking themselves and Liam’s pretty sure they think they’re being subtle, but he sees their little glances and small touches.
They have a break for a few days and Liam’s thankful. He sprawls in bed and stares at the clock: just after noon. There’s a thudding noise from next door, and another. It might be Cher, Liam doesn’t know, doesn’t remember much getting from the bus into their room
He takes a second to make sure he doesn’t look completely awful in the mirror and he heads out. There’s a door wide open down the corridor and Niall’s standing there. He can hear laughing, can tell it’s Matt and Aiden’s. Liam ignores them and goes for the lifts, gets in with a man who’s got a little girl passed out on his shoulder. She’s eye-level with Liam and when she opens her sleepy eyes, he gives her a quick smile before she closes them again.
A few people are milling about in the lobby. He passes the gym and the pool - Paije is swimming with Wagner and Liam has been successful this far into the tour in keeping that mental image out of his head - and there’s a little café and a lounge. It reminds him of America, makes him think of how great LA had been for them.
Liam’s thinking of sunshine and pools and tan skin and he passes the lounge and almost doesn’t hear the music coming from it. It’s piano, testing, a tiny noise that doesn’t sound like a radio or TV.
He hesitates in the doorway for a second, intending just to see who it is and then turn around and maybe go to the gym or something, and he sees it’s Louis. Liam reels and nearly says something, calls out to him, but the silence of the last few days keeps him quiet.
Louis, back straight and fingers reaching, goes into a roll down the keys, right into some riff Liam’s never heard before, and, really, he’s not actually sure he’s ever even heard Louis play piano. All that time on the X Factor they were surrounded by every kind of musician and instrument and not once has Liam seen this.
Louis blows a note, maybe on purpose, maybe not. He taps a key once, twice, three times and slouches down. Liam can’t stand there anymore.
“Hey.” He sits on the bench, and Louis stares at him, takes his hands off his keys. Liam tries not to look too disappointed.
“Hello,” Louis says quietly, and his eyes shift self-consciously, another thing Liam has never seen.
“Would you - would you do that again?” Liam asks carefully, gesturing to the piano.
Louis’s eyes gleam. He taps a key again
“No, no, that thing.” Liam needs more hand gestures.
Louis eyes him for a minute, almost studying, before he lifts his hands again. He starts out with what Liam heard, this slow cascade down the keys, and then he moves faster, a tiny piece of a song Liam wants to hear more of. Liam moves his eyes from the fingers on the keys to Louis’ face, watching him concentrate, and thinks that he maybe wants to kiss the worry lines away from his mouth.
Louis stops, slouches down once more, and Liam wonders where Harry is, if he’s ever gotten to do this.
Liam thinks for a minute. “You should do that on the record.”
“I - what?” Louis gapes at him, his laugh surprised.
“Piano, you should play on the record.” Liam’s mind is spinning, thinking of what they could do if Louis played, how they could arrange it live-
“No thanks, mate,” Louis says, a little bitter.
“What do you mean?”
“Liam, that’s hardly a song, and it’s not even that good. They’d would never let me record, and if we do have piano, someone better than me would be playing.”
“Shut up,” Liam blurts and ignores Louis’ shocked face. “No, I want you to play on our record. If not this one, then the next one.”
Louis sighs, but his eyes soften. Liam is suddenly aware of how close they are, knee to hip on the piano bench. He can’t decide if he wants to flee the room or see if Louis would pull away if he held his hand right now.
--
Harry complains about a sore throat for two days, but he takes it about as serious as the rest of them and they almost play straight through Ireland before things go south. By Thursday’s sound check, there’s no questioning it when his voice abruptly stops and he winces. There’s no time to see him the next day, Harry waking up with no voice and a horrified expression and being whisked off to hospital, causing an uproar on Twitter none of them can be bothered to cool down. The rest of them are left to wait, told they can “rehearse alone for a bit”, but no, they really can’t.
--
The second they’re off the stage, Harry’s got people buzzing around him; one of their managers has his mouth wide open, shining a light down his throat and a few more people are hollering about the set, and Harry looks like he’s about to fall over. In the dark, Liam feels Louis standing close to him, buzzing and warm, pressed against his back. Distantly, the crowd roars as Matt starts his first song.
Zayn’s wedged himself in by Harry, listening for what Liam is sure will be said: Harry is done, and maybe not just for tonight. Niall’s flitting in and around them, unsure of where he should be and trying not to get in the way. As soon as the light comes out of Harry’s mouth, he swallows so hard his throat clicks and he grimaces. Liam watches as he locks eyes with Niall, and Harry’s voice is a whisper, but his eyes are proud, “You were brilliant.”
That sends the manager into a tizzy, shushing Harry as Niall tries to unsuccessfully hide his grin.
The next night, Harry goes through the choreography like it’s painful to do so, a second show he has to give up his solos, singing under Niall and Liam. Liam watches him give meek little waves and tiny smiles to the girls in the crowd and Liam hates it.
--
“I’m only going to ignore you if you try to talk, you know.”
Liam clicks the door of their hotel room shut. The TV is on mute, and Louis and Harry are on the bed together, Louis’ arm around Harry’s neck. Harry looks only slightly disgruntled at being kept there.
“Hi! We’re being quiet!” Louis shouts to him. Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Louis puts his hand over him. “No, shush! They said you’re not to talk.” He makes a face and quickly pulls away when Harry licks his palm.
“They said I could talk. Just not much,” Harry says. His voice is strained at best; Liam winces for him.
“Harry! Be quiet!”
“Impossible for you two,” Liam says, sitting at the end of the bed, and they both scowl at him.
Harry’s phone goes off, Louis shoving him back as he reaches for it, picking it up and answering. “Uh uh! You’re not allowed to - Oh, hello, Anne!”
Harry groans, meagerly grabbing for his phone.
“I’m doing very well, how are you, lovely?” Louis sticks his tongue out at Harry and Liam laughs. “No, he’s being a bit cheeky about the whole thing, would you like to speak with him?”
Louis pauses, then holds his hand over the phone. “It’s your mum,” he whispers. Harry rolls his eyes, but grins and takes his phone.
“Hi, mum.” The rest of Harry’s conversation floats away as he heads for the bathroom.
--
Harry’s been acting weird the whole day, and not normal Harry weird. Liam hasn’t seen much of him because he busies himself whenever Liam’s around, flitting from room to room with no time to talk, and Liam would think he’s avoiding them, but Harry’s been wrestling around with Zayn and Niall all afternoon. He sees confusion and hurt flash in Louis’ eyes when Harry grins huge, says he’s going to Matt and Aiden’s room, so Liam settles down in bed with him, hopes this isn’t going to be a repeat of last time.
The night gets later and they’re going to be told to stay in their rooms soon. Liam’s on the phone with Andy, pressed against Louis, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.
“I don’t think your mum wants me coming around anymore,” Andy says.
“I think she just wants you to stop eating all the food,” Liam says. Louis has Liam’s hand that isn’t attached to the phone, absentmindedly playing with the bracelets around his wrist, eyes on the TV and humming to whatever song Louis hums to.
“Well, you’re not there to eat it, someone’s got to.”
The door clicks open and Harry’s there, eyes bright and cheeks reddened a little. Liam and Louis look up in surprise.
“Well, come on, you two,” Harry says expectantly, holding the door open. Liam looks to Louis, then back at Harry, confused. “We’re going out, come on,” he says excitedly.
Liam is still confused, but at least Harry’s talking to them. “Right, mate, I’ve got to go,” he tells Andy, hanging up.
Harry takes them outside, the dark cool against Liam’s skin. They walk in silence, Louis nearest to Liam and fiddling with his bracelets again, which Liam doesn’t like at all suddenly, because it means Louis is nervous, and he shouldn’t be. Liam hopes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of their security guys hanging back, following their path and staring around like he always goes for a late night stroll with three young boys.
“What-” Liam starts to ask, but Harry sees where he’s looking.
“Yeah, sorry, the only way we could do this was if he came with,” he says sheepishly, and he starts to speed up.
“The hell are we doing, Harry?” Louis asks, but he doesn’t get an answer, so Liam just shrugs at him and tries to catch up with Harry.
and then it's something like he takes them to this little restaurant that's still open and orders them hot chocolates (with extra marshmallows and whipped cream for Louis) and sits across from them in the booth and chatters on about Cher and some prank Aiden pulled and what did you two do today and his cheeks are still flushed but Liam doesn't think it's from the cold, not anymore, and Louis stops drinking his hot chocolate (he's got whipped cream smeared all over his lips and Liam is waiting for an appropriate time to lick it off) and blurts "Harry is this - are you taking us on an actual date right now?" and Liam laughs kind of nervously, but he looks back at Harry and he's got his head ducked down, biting his lip, staring a hole into his chocolate and oh.
1. The superpowers au, was going to end in OT5 eventually. Set/written during the X Factor Tour, I apologize that this is really just a bunch of scrambled scenes and not really any continuity/transitions, that's how I write.
“You’ve got my red jumper, right?” Liam asks, pulling his toothbrush out of his bag. Touring and sharing clothes doesn’t make for very much organization, and Liam would think about doing more laundry and living less out of his bags, but he gets some sort of satisfaction when he thinks about how no one is around to tell him to put his clothes away.
“Yeah, here.” Harry balances precariously on the edge of the bed and unzips his suitcase, grabbing the jumper and tossing it in Liam’s pile, all the while never taking his eyes off the TV. Liam sits down on his bed and starts taking off his shoes. He might shower, but there’s no one here to tell him to do that, either.
Liam heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth, hears Harry laughing at whatever he’s watching. They’ve all given up mocking Liam’s nightly routine, especially Louis, who’s actually taken to joining Liam whenever they share a room.
Liam packs up, goes back to the room and takes off the top duvet on his bed that always makes him too hot. Harry’s still lying on his stomach only in his underwear - Liam assumes those will be gone before long, too, mesmerized by the TV.
“Can you get that light?” Liam gestures to the one by Harry’s bed.
Liam turns for a split second, zipping up his toothbrush, and the room goes dark. He turns back to Harry, who’s still watching TV like he never moved.
“Wait,” Liam says
“What?” Harry asks, still staring at his show.
“How’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Harry finally peels his eyes away from the screen.
“Turn out the light.”
“Well, Liam, there’s an on and off switch and-”
“No, no, no, you didn’t move.”
Harry freezes, and Liam thinks that three months ago he wouldn’t have even noticed that. “What are you talking about?” Harry asks, flopping onto his side to stare at Liam incredulously.
“You didn’t get up. To flip the switch.”
Harry doesn’t say anything. Liam claps his hands twice, but the light stays turned off and then he feels kind of dumb.
“Do it again,” he demands.
Harry stares, and then, “Liam, you are seriously mental, it’s a light. They turn on and they turn off and that’s exactly what I did.”
Liam narrows his eyes. “Mhm.” Harry very pointedly looks back at the TV and not in Liam’s direction.
The next night, it’s the same thing, but this time it’s the TV. Liam crawls under his duvet, Harry doing the exact same thing in the bed opposite him, and the TV blinks off. Liam scowls in the dark, but doesn’t say anything.
In the morning, Liam takes his shower after Harry. He comes out, dressed and hair dripping, looks at the texts Louis has sent him asking him to come down and eat - he’s sent six, each text only one word. He only does that when he’s “bored out of my mind, Liam.” Over Christmas, Liam got 60 texts slowly asking him what he got Louis for his birthday.
He looks up, glancing at the TV, and sees something move out of the corner of his eye. Harry is sitting on his bed, tying his shoes, and the towel he brought out with him after his shower is floating. In the air.
“Um,” Liam says stupidly, but. He’s pretty sure there is no intelligent reaction in this situation.
Harry’s head flies up, face whitening. The towel drops to the floor between them.
“Uh,” he says back.
“You. That.” Liam is seriously standing there with his phone in his hand, frozen. Because the towel was floating. And Harry is disturbingly calm about it.
“So,” Harry breathes out. “I might have something to tell you.”
“You might? Harry, what-”
Behind Liam, some sort of commotion interrupts him. He turns, finds Louis and Niall wrestling in the doorway. “Hello, lads!” Louis calls out, face going red from where Niall’s got him pinned to the floor.
Liam turns back to Harry, who shoulders past him, wringing that stupid towel. He goes into the bathroom and Liam hears the door lock behind him.
Niall’s sitting contently on Louis’ chest, who doesn’t seem to mind much at all, pulling his phone out to text.
“Something wrong with Harry?” Niall asks.
“He probably misses my presence while he sleeps. I’ve been told I can be quite soothing,” Louis says seriously, and Niall tumbles off him laughing.
“You can room with him tonight, then,” and Liam doesn’t even care how bitter he sounds. He steps over Niall and Louis and goes to find Aiden. Or anyone not in his band.
--
Harry gets the best at it the quickest. Which, of course, of course Harry has to be amazing at everything he does, and apparently being a superhero or whatever is in that category too.
In the rest of their defenses, Harry’s is relatively easy to hide. If he wants, he can just move something when he wants, right out in the open. Liam’s seen it, watched Harry push his limits and strain just to move one little thing, just to see if he can do it. He never gets caught.
It’s kind of unfair to Louis, really. It’s not like he can set things ablaze whenever he wants. Well, he could, but there are some things even Louis would get looked at strangely for. And Niall can’t very well just lift off all the time. Zayn gets around when he can, usually late at night or early morning, when people won’t mind him being in one place one minute, and another the next.
Liam is in a firm stage of denial. Except sometimes. Sometimes, it’s kind of cool to just disappear. If you’re into that, which Liam isn’t. Shut up, Louis.
--
Sometimes, when they practice a new song and Zayn has the lead, he’ll flash away for a second.
Or when they try out new steps, trying to add choreography, see what it’s like when they get to do their own stuff.
Or when they have to talk about solos, either for the show that night or for the record later.
He always comes back, usually straight away, because he hasn’t practiced enough to go somewhere and stay. To everyone else, it probably just looks confusing, but not enough to question it. But that’s not the point.
Everything Zayn doesn’t want to deal with, he teleports away. Liam wonders if anyone else appreciates the irony.
--
Liam walks into the room he’s sharing with Harry, Louis tagging along behind him, and Zayn is standing there. Zayn, who he thinks he just saw downstairs talking to Aiden and not in any way coming up with them, is in the middle of his room looking confused.
“Um, hi,” he says, and waves awkwardly.
“Zayner!” Louis bounds in and wraps his arms around Zayn. “We’ve come to wake up Hazza!” Who, Liam notices, is currently sprawled on his bed, mouth open and dead to the world.
“Oh. Yeah. Um, thought I’d help, you know,” Zayn stammers, trying to pry himself loose from Louis’ grip. Liam is maybe laughing and not helping at all.
“Hang on.” Louis freezes, Zayn still trapped and mumbling something about breathing. “You were just downstairs, weren’t you?” Zayn shakes his head. “Yes, you were, you were talking to Cher... I think.” Louis looks as confused as Liam feels.
“No, no, I was up here. Waiting. For you. To wake up Harry.”
“So you were watching him sleep?” Louis lets Zayn go. “That’s mildly creepy, mate.” Zayn opens his mouth to protest, but Louis is off, hopping on Harry’s bed and shaking him awake.
“Wha’s goin’ on?” Harry yawns and covers his head with the covers. Which is good because Liam’s pretty sure he’s not wearing any clothes.
“Time to get up!” Louis is probably being way too loud, if Harry’s groan is any indication. “Also, Zayn was totally watching you sleep.”
“I was not!” Zayn’s voice is going kind of high and Liam gets a dirty look for his laugh.
“He was. He even told us.” Someone laughs in the hall outside their room and Louis flies off the bed, attention already elsewhere.
Harry’s voice comes from under the covers. “Zayn, you can watch me sleep anytime. I don’t mind.”
Zayn scoffs, speechless, his hands flapping around.
--
After losing the stupid game at least five times, Liam maybe starts to get a little suspicious that Harry is like, pushing his controller buttons or something. He’s sneaky like that, with all this new power stuff, but they all kind of have to be. Like, the other day, he was talking with Aiden-
Shit, he just lost again. Harry’s laughing and Liam’s brow furrows. “Hey, are you-”
Louis bursts into their room, breathless and looking mildly disheveled. He straightens up before he speaks. “So,” he says, “I think I just set Cher’s hair on fire.”
“You what?” Liam asks as Harry pauses their game.
“Um. Yeah.” Louis at least has the decency to look like he feels a little bit bad, but mostly he just looks surprised. He swallows. “Yeah. So, I’m just gonna. Shower, or something.”
“Okay,” Liam says slowly.
As soon as Louis shuts the bathroom door, Niall flings the door open, as breathless as Louis. “Did you-”
“Yeah,” Harry and Liam say in unison, turning back to their game.
Niall though, he doubles over laughing, coming to sit down on the second bed. “Absolutely brilliant.”
A beat passes, Niall watching them play and Liam checking to make sure he, and he only, has control of what buttons are being pushed. Then, a shrill scream comes from the bathroom.
“Zayn! Get out!”
Liam sighs and pauses the game again as Harry and Niall fall off the beds laughing.
--
One night, they lose it.
In the walk up to the main stage, the security line breaks and Liam gets swarmed by the girls, Harry and Niall’s backs getting farther and farther ahead of him. He stops singing altogether, feels Louis and Zayn pressing against his back, and there are a million hands coming at him and grabbing, and Liam can’t move and he kind of panics and leaves. For a split second, he feels himself disappear, the sounds around him muffled like he’s underwater. He comes back as fast as he left, the noise roaring and the screams even louder than before. Someone finally disentangles them from the mob of girls and Liam rushes to the stage with Zayn and Louis. He spends two songs trying to catch his breath, getting worried looks from Harry.
The last song, and they’ve broken off to different parts of the stage, Harry going to the center and the other four splitting for the sides. He’s with Niall, arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders, when Liam suddenly feels himself rising. He looks down at his feet, seeing if they’ve set off one of the lifts by accident, but no, of course not. Niall’s feet are lifting off the stage, and he, seemingly oblivious, is taking Liam with him. Liam holds him down by his shoulders, making both of them miss a cue, but Niall stands flat footed back on the ground when they have to all meet in center stage for the ending.
The atmosphere backstage is completely different than usual. There’s the busy commotion and chaos, people getting ready for Matt’s set and the group number, but Liam can see them watching from the corner of their eyes as they make their way to a dressing room, waiting for one more trick.
“You completely disappeared,” Harry says, turned on Zayn as soon as the door shuts behind them, breathing hard and eyes wide. He looks to Liam. “You both did.”
When Liam looks at Niall, he kind of wants to go crawl in bed until the next show, because no one should look like that. “Sorry, guys,” Niall says quietly.
Harry’s eyes soften. “Just - you all need to practice. You need to get better at controlling it, so we’re not stuck out there like that again.”
Zayn gives him a jerky head nod and Liam feels himself do the same, squashing down the frustration and urge to just tell Harry that it’s not that easy for them and he doesn’t want to practice anymore, he doesn’t.
Louis has been lurking silently behind Harry, head bent toward the floor and Liam can’t see his face. “Louis?” he asks tentatively.
“Louis? Louis.” Harry crowds in close to him. “Lou? What’s wrong?”
Louis tilts his head, trying to meet Harry’s eyes, and Liam sucks in a breath. Sweat is dripping down his face, his hair clinging to his forehead.
“Hey.” Harry tilts his chin up. “Hey, look at me.”
Louis opens his eyes and they roll around, searching. Liam kind of wants to call some sort of adult figure for help because he doesn’t know what this is; Louis certainly wasn’t like that five minutes ago.
“Harry?” Louis’ voice is barely there, but Harry breathes a sigh of relief.
“Louis, what - what’s going on?” Harry’s voice is high and choked, and Liam seriously cannot keep watching his band fall apart.
“Harry.” There’s a long pause, Louis swaying on his feet and looking at his hands like he’s never seen them before. “‘S really hot, Harry.”
Harry looks down in surprise at Louis’ hands. He grabs them with his own, fingers curling around Louis’ palms, and presses his forehead into Louis’ sweaty one. “No, no, c’mon, Louis,” Liam hears him whisper fiercely. He exchanges worried looks with Niall and Zayn, hovering next to them, unsure.
“Harry, can I,” Zayn tries, but then he starts again, “Harry, does he need like, a doctor or something, because I seriously do not-”
“He needs water,” Harry says, eyes never leaving Louis’. “He needs cold water. A shower would probably work best, but he’ll have to wait until we get back to the hotel.”
Zayn takes a moment to look completely confused before he and Niall run off to find water bottles, leaving Liam with Harry and a semi-conscious Louis.
Harry turns to him. “This is another one of those things I kind of wanted to tell you about,” he says, giving Liam a rueful smile.
“It’s okay,” Liam assures him, even though it’s really not. “Just, he needs to be better like, now.” Liam steps toward them and feels the heat rolling off Louis in waves. Harry’s curls are dampening, sweat beading on his own forehead.
“Louis? You okay?” Liam puts a hand on his shoulder, almost takes it off when he feels the heat.
“Right as rain, Li.” Louis’ voice sounds completely wrecked, his head lolling a bit, eyes searching for Liam’s.
--
“If you put that near my face one more time,” Harry says slowly, “I’m going to take something inside your body and move it to the outside. With my mind.”
Louis has been flicking a flame in his hands on and off for the better part of an hour. Harry’s been edging increasingly further away, smoothing his hair back every few minutes and looking annoyed.
Louis narrows his eyes. “You can’t do that.” Still, Liam watches him grab his phone, something cool he won’t be tempted to set on fire.
“Dunno. You could be the first I ever try it on.” Louis’ face falls and Harry smirks, goes back to the show he was half paying attention to.
--
They’re spending every waking moment together, orbiting around each other again, like at the contestants’ house and even before, at Harry’s. They’re connected in a new way, drawn to each other, and they can tell exactly where one another is at all times, but Liam can’t tell if that’s because of the powers or not.
They all start sleeping in the same room. After the third time Zayn, Harry, and Niall fall asleep tangled up together in one bed, they figure it’s just easier to share. When Liam draws the short straw and has to ask about only booking one room for them, he gets weird looks and a lecture about how multiple rooms are required for security and safety or something, Liam doesn’t really care. So they still get two rooms every night, and one always goes untouched.
Night is easier for them. The day is full of rehearsals and performances and traveling, and just generally a lot of people, and they very well can’t just disappear or set things on fire in front of them.
At night, they can practice. Depending on the layout of the hotel and if any minders are around, they can leave the room. Niall can float around without anyone making a fuss and Liam and Zayn can disappear for however long they want. They start getting used to it, start to make it come natural to them, and it’s good.
Except for Louis.
They discover there is almost no way to play around with fire without anyone noticing, or some sort of legal consequence. After setting off three smoke alarms, Louis is restricted to only making the tiniest flames, and absolutely no setting things on fire. It’s quite frustrating, really.
--
Louis is half asleep on Liam’s shoulder, bodies aligned and legs tangled. Harry is on Liam’s other side, out like a light and snoring softly. Their nights are like this now: when exhaustion brings tired eyes and shaky words, they crawl into bed together, intertwined and surrounded.
“Liam,” Louis whispers.
Liam hmms quietly, not opening his eyes because he was so close, almost asleep.
“Liaaam.” If he was awake, Liam would roll his eyes at Louis’ whine. But he’s not awake. He’s totally sleeping.
“Fine.” Silence, then, “Do you like it?” Louis asks hesitantly, and oh no. Liam knows what this is. This is the part where Louis, half out of his mind without sleep, starts rambling, starts saying things that are totally ridiculous about himself and the band, until one of them shushes him up and he finally sleeps.
“Go to sleep, Louis,” Liam mumbles, because he’s not about to walk into that conversation - whatever it’s about - without anyone else awake to help him out of it.
He’s quiet again for a few minutes, and Liam thinks Louis must have gone to sleep, too tired to finish his question.
Liam’s just about to drop off himself, when Louis’ head lolls on his shoulder, and he mumbles, so quiet, “You must like it. I’d like it if I got to disappear whenever I wanted,” and Liam freezes. Louis’ slow, even breathing tells Liam he’s finally asleep.
Liam turns to his back, and spends the next few hours staring at the ceiling.
2. The one where Liam leaves first and the rest of them follow. I don't think I had much planned out for this, so it wasn't going anywhere. But it was going to end in working OT5 and happiness.
Liam calls one night and throws around the word America. A lot. Well, a lot for someone like Liam. Then, he starts using the word permanent, and Louis gets worried.
A week later, he’s on a plane.
Harry tangles his fingers with Louis’, their bodies aligned and making shadows on the walls: Louis wonders why, in the last five years, this of all things never changed. Harry asks him what he thinks Liam is running from. Louis doesn’t know.
Harry takes the first flight out in the morning.
Niall’s spent more time in Ireland in the last year than in the first two they were together, and Zayn is around even less.
Louis is torn, and everyone can shut the fuck up because that song started not being funny years ago.
--
White Eskimo had one hit, in 2014. A week after Harry’s 20th birthday, the single dropped, and rumors flew about the next big thing competing biggest boy band - “Harry, how’s it feel to have your ex-best mate sharing the charts with you?” They’d gotten their act together, along with a decent singer, and every time they turned on the radio that month, Louis watched Harry’s face fall a little bit more.
It was short lived: a month after their album was released, Will went on a bender and tried to - unsuccessfully - sell whatever he could to the papers. The lights in Harry’s eyes slowly returned after that. Louis had deemed Will a lost cause years ago, anyway.
--
Louis leaves six messages on Zayn’s phone the day Harry leaves, eight on Niall’s. He never gets a call back, from anyone.
It’s been a month since Liam’s left, three weeks since Harry. Six days ago, he decided food was not a top priority and started living off sweets and coke. It’s been three days since he last showered and he’s fairly sure his clothes have slowly started moving to the laundry room on their own. He might be drinking a lot.
He has a lot of free time now, without Liam and Harry around to fret about their future or whatever. The flat is quiet, and when Louis walks around late at night he swears it echoes.
He went out to the pubs with Matt and Aiden a few times (out since 2012; the end of the world does strange things to people) but that got old after the third time Matt drunkenly proclaimed his love for Aiden and alerted everyone in the bar that Louis was “single and ready to mingle, but mostly kind of sad and lonely.”
Hannah was coming by every few days, but Louis told her not to bother. She didn’t need to miss work, and they’ve been broken up for three years, it’s not like she’s obligated. Louis was a little drunk when he told her that and Hannah looked a little mad when she left that day. He hasn’t heard from her since.
Louis blinks, another week goes by. He’s checking his phone (old habit), sees four voice mails from Lottie.
“Hey, it’s me. Mum wants to know if you died or something. I’m not concerned or anything, just give us a call.”
“Hey, you’re still at the flat, right? I’m gonna stop by after class and see if you’re home. The girls all say hi.”
“Okay, could you at least call us, Louis? Mum’s super worried.”
“I hope you’re okay, Lou.”
After the last one, his phone gives the low battery warning. He puts it on its charger, grabs a change of clothes that look generally clean, and gets in the shower.
He gets out, steam rolling with him, and stares at his bed. He empties the blankets of all the sweet wrappers that have been carelessly thrown about the last few weeks and picks up his clothes. Usually, Liam gathers their clothes and sorts the colors. Harry prefers hitting the buttons on the washer and folding things.
His phone rings and Louis nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound. He grabs it, freezes before he can read who it is. Three more rings and his palms are sweating. He tells himself to man up, picking it up without looking at the name.
“Hello?” His voice is rough, unused. He’s pretty sure the last actual conversation he had that wasn’t with the TV was well over a week ago.
“Louis?” Harry’s voice sounds hesitant, clear but distant, and Louis’ stomach swoops. He imagines the space between them, wherever Harry is.
“Yeah,” he says, but it comes out wrong and he clears his throat. “Yeah?”
The line crackles as Harry breathes. “Listen, this call is kind of ridiculously expensive, and I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you, I’m so fucking sorry, Louis-”
“Harry.” Louis stops him, because he doesn’t want to know where that sentence is going.
He hears Harry take a breath. “I found Liam.”
Louis hears someone talking loudly in the background, and then something bangs and the noise stops. His mind rewinds, replays what Harry’s just said.
“You what? You found him?”
“Well, I found out where he’s staying, only just a few days ago. I’ve been looking for weeks, Louis, I would have called, or - or something, I swear.” Harry’s voice is thick through the phone, like it’s filled with everything he hasn’t said in so long. Louis closes his eyes, tries not to think of the month of radio silence.
“Where is he? Where are you guys?” He waits for Harry to say Boston, or Miami, even LA, places Liam loved that would at least be familiar, at least be logical to run off to.
“Louis,” Harry says, “Liam’s got a house. In Chicago.”
For a second, Louis thinks about hanging up the phone. Hanging up, drinking more coke, and going back to bed. But Harry’s breath stutters and he sniffles, and Louis is pretty sure he’s crying and he might be mad, but he’s not the one who hangs up anymore.
“Chicago,” Louis repeats. He hears Harry let out a jerky breath, and yeah, he’s definitely crying now. Louis can see him, sitting alone on his hotel bed and covering his face like he always does, hair hanging over his eyes. He makes a decision.
“Hey.” He waits. “Hey.”
Harry’s meek, “Yeah?” finally comes.
“I’m gonna come, okay? I’m gonna be there as soon as I can.”
Harry sniffs. “Okay,” and he sounds young, and Louis wishes he was there right now, fixing this whole thing and making sure Harry never sounds like that again.
“Just - just pick me up at the airport, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Harry says, and his voice cracks. “I’ll be waiting.”
Louis hangs up. He opens his laptop, brings up flights to Chicago; he can leave by tonight. He ransacks Liam and Harry’s wardrobes, taking whatever clothes they didn’t and throwing them on his bed. He’s not sure how long he’s going to be there (if he’s going to be gone for a week, a month, more) but he’s also pretty sure neither Liam nor Harry packed all that many clothes. He toes at the luggage under his bed; he’d only finally gotten it empty from the last tour a few weeks ago.
Louis checks his phone again, texts Harry his flight times. He thumbs over Zayn and Niall’s names,and finally decides to send them the same message: gone 2 chicago. please txt back.
Chicago. Louis has only been a few times, and only on tours. It was cold this time of year. Louis looks at the lack of jumpers on his bed. They’ll have to go shopping.
aaaand then there were some more flashback-y scenes and fighting during recording and Harry hit Zayn and it all seemed quite dramatic and improbable, so I scrapped that.
3. Harry/Liam/Louis fumbling their way through a relationship, because I apparently had a really big thing for this OT3. Again, set/written during X Factor Tour and it's just bits and pieces of scenes, and I'm sorry Andy Samuels makes an appearance.
Liam thinks his life is really unfair. Seriously, it's just completely and totally unfair.
He goes on X Factor and gets put in this band and all his dreams kind of start to come true, and he makes the greatest friends he’ll ever have, and then he gets thrown into this relationship with not one but two of his band members, a stupid relationship where sometimes just looking at those two makes him react all ridiculous and stupid - like when Harry smiles and Liam’s heart stutters in his chest and he has to grin back, or when Louis is over tired and sleepy-eyed and Liam’s brain quits working for a few minutes-
He may or may not be falling for them. That has to be it. Liam considers himself a reasonably intelligent person, and there is no legitimate reason for him to be acting this way around Harry and Louis unless he is possibly a little bit in love with them.
Completely and totally unfair.
--
They get a few days’ break before the week tour begins, and it almost seems like a waste to Liam until he gets home and sees his mum and dad and Ruth and Nicola and Andy hangs out for a bit because when is Andy not at his house when Liam is home? Andy sits on his couch and eats his food and jokes with Liam like he’s been doing it for years and not for just these past few months, and Liam likes that.
It’s late, morning late, and Liam is lounging on the couch with Andy. His family went to bed hours ago and they’ve been sitting in the half darkened room mainly just throwing food into each other’s mouths across the furniture. Liam’s pretty sure Andy’s gone to sleep because he hasn’t seen the glow from the iPad or his phone for a good ten minutes. Liam throws an arm across his eyes, pressing down and watching the shapes on the back of his eyelids make movies. He sees faces and stage lights, crowds of people and grabbing hands-
The candy wrapper crinkles when it hits him square in the jaw. “Wake up, lazy bones.”
Liam moves his arm and opens his eyes. He blinks a few times, realizing there’s not much difference between his closed eyes and the dark room. He thinks there should be.
“Have you actually nodded off on me now?” Liam feels Andy shift up, movements stiff from sitting in the same position for hours. The iPad glows as it unlocks and Liam can see Andy’s face again in the light. Liam kicks him gently in the shin where their legs are touching to let him know he’s awake.
Andy lets out a laugh at something he’s read, not too loud this late at night. Liam sits up and feels his stomach lurch because he’s thinking of the tour and being away and not doing this for awhile.
“Hey.” His voice is entirely too quiet for the night they’ve had and it sounds hoarse and unused, like they haven’t spoken in hours. Andy types a bit more before he clicks off the iPad, setting it aside and looking at Liam. The room feels even darker now that that light’s gone off too.
Andy slouches back against the couch and Liam tries again, trying not to be overly serious, but he wants to at least tell Andy, because besides his band, Andy is his best friend. “Hey, um,” and it sounds better.
Andy’s opening whatever sweets they’ve got left scattered about them, stuffing his face and chewing obnoxiously and acting stupidly uninterested, and Liam knows he’s waiting for him to speak, but he seriously can’t, he cannot. This is it: he’s going to let this chance fly right by, this moment where he could have talked to Andy, asked him what he should actually do in this situation.
Andy starts out, “You know, you,” the same time Liam blurts, “I’mkindofhavingsexwithLouisandHarry,” and fuck, fuck, fuck.
Andy stops. And starts again. “You... Wait, what?”
Liam sighs exasperatedly, because he so does not think he can say that sentence again. He breathes in. “I said, I-”
“No, no, no, I heard you. I think. At least, I think I heard something I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.” Andy’s brow is still furrowed, confused, but he’s smirking a bit.
“Andy,” and Liam’s whining now, because Andy is supposed to be the helpful best friend right now, not the teasing one.
“I’m just trying to - I - Both of them, mate?” Andy’s smile is amused and kind of awed and Liam is going to die, just die right there on his couch and never figure out whole sex-with-his-bandmates issue.
“Okay, okay, um.” Andy runs a hand over his face, looking suddenly incredibly awake for the hour while Liam thinks of ways he can block this conversation from his future memories. “Okay, um. I’m kinda just, what do you want me to say, Liam? Like, is it the guy thing, because you know I don’t care about that, right? The band mate thing is another story, because I didn’t see that coming, but, really, looking back on it, there were some subtle-”
“Andy, okay, please stop talking.” Dying. Right here, in his dark living room. With Andy Samuels ranting about like, subtext or something. Liam covers his face with his hands.
“Liam... Hey, Liam.” Andy’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, and when Liam lifts his head he sees the expression on his face is the same. “What’s up?”
I think I’m in love with them, is that okay? Liam says, “I don’t know, just. No one else knows, and I wanted you to.”
Andy’s face says he isn’t satisfied with his answer. “No one else? Zayn and Niall don’t-”
“No, and we’re planning on keeping it that way, for now.”
“Liam.” Andy says his name with stupid gentle tone again. Liam’s starting to hate it. “You know I’m not going to tell anyone, right? I wouldn’t do that to you guys.” Liam nods. “And you know you can tell me anything, about like whatever is going on? Well, obviously not everything now, I mean sex with-”
“Andy!” Seriously, maybe death would be easier than trying to figure out love or whatever.
---
Liam doesn’t have a clue where they are. And he really doesn’t care.
Half an hour ago, he felt the bus halt and heard someone in the back say something about getting food. He tumbled out of his bunk, still wearing Louis’s sweats, and he hasn’t been out of the lounge area all day and they don’t have a show tonight, so he throws on shoes and a hoodie (also Louis’) and hopes it isn’t too cold out.
Wherever they are, there’s water. And it’s windy. And Liam’s been standing on this pier forever and there has been no mention or sign of food, which is disappointing. He shivers a bit in his hoodie, arms wrapped around his middle to keep his hands warm. In front of him near the metal bars separating them from the water, Louis, Harry, and Niall are playing some completely messed up form of tag involving a lot of tackling and hitting. Liam is fairly sure there’s no way for them to fall to their death, but he’s watching just in case.
“Food!” Zayn’s rushing toward him carrying a ridiculous amount of bags. Behind him, Cher and Wagner are fighting over the last box of McNuggets and Matt and Aiden are gleefully walking away from the two, carrying what Liam assumes is the rest of their food.
“Food, boys!” Zayn calls out to the others, who completely ignore him. Liam takes a bag from him and sits down with it, inspecting the contents. Near the water, someone shouts and yells “Cheat! Cheat!” and Zayn laughs as he sits next to Liam.
Liam starts eating (devouring, his mother would probably say, but he doesn’t care), feeling awake for the first time all day.
“Good?” Zayn asks, in a stupid accent, and Liam looks away from the water to his face. He’s wearing his glasses today, and Liam thinks he looks calmer, maybe, like he usually only looks when he’s sleeping. Liam decides this place - wherever it is - is kind of calming. He nods.
Louis yells as Niall knocks him flat on the ground, sitting atop him. Zayn laughs again when Harry joins him. Louis gets ground under him enough to topple them both over, Harry laughing and rolling a little too close to the edge of the cement. Liam maybe tenses up a little.
“You know, if they cause themselves serious injuries, I think it’s up to us to continue on with the band,” Zayn says seriously. Liam laughs. The wind comes up again and he’s starting to get cold from sitting on the ground. He feels better.
“Would we change our name?”
Zayn chews, thinking. “No, in honor of Harry, we keep the name.”
Liam laughs again. “This is a really awful hypothetical situation.”
Zayn wipes his hands on his jeans, nodding. The other three have quit their game now, seemingly content as they sprawl spread eagle on the ground looking up at the sky. Liam wonders if Zayn can see Louis and Harry’s fingers brushing, so so close, but when he turns to look at him and read his face, Zayn is staring at him.
“What?”
There’s a long pause before Zayn answers, then, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Liam huffs and looks away. Louis and Harry have put distance between each other. “Like, you know we’re friends and I’m here for you and all that?”
Zayn is studying his face when he turns back. Liam nods, “Yeah, I know,” because Zayn is being oddly sincere and Liam is maybe panicking a little because he doesn’t know what brought this on. “Same for you, too, okay?” he says hurriedly, but he means it as much as Zayn does.
Zayn grins and Liam feels guilty, the moment between them over.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Liam asks, looking at the water once again.
“No fucking clue,” Zayn says and Liam laughs.
In front of them, Louis is scrambling up from the ground. “When the hell did we get food?”
---
Liam slept nearly fourteen hours. When he woke up, neither Harry or Louis were in the room, and that was okay with him; he’s got no clue where he stands with them, and since the whole thing with Aiden, they’ve hardly spoken to him. Liam nearly chose to room with Zayn and Niall, but all the strange looks he got for his hesitance when room keys got passed out made him shoot that idea down quick. As far as Liam can tell, Harry and Louis are barely talking themselves and Liam’s pretty sure they think they’re being subtle, but he sees their little glances and small touches.
They have a break for a few days and Liam’s thankful. He sprawls in bed and stares at the clock: just after noon. There’s a thudding noise from next door, and another. It might be Cher, Liam doesn’t know, doesn’t remember much getting from the bus into their room
He takes a second to make sure he doesn’t look completely awful in the mirror and he heads out. There’s a door wide open down the corridor and Niall’s standing there. He can hear laughing, can tell it’s Matt and Aiden’s. Liam ignores them and goes for the lifts, gets in with a man who’s got a little girl passed out on his shoulder. She’s eye-level with Liam and when she opens her sleepy eyes, he gives her a quick smile before she closes them again.
A few people are milling about in the lobby. He passes the gym and the pool - Paije is swimming with Wagner and Liam has been successful this far into the tour in keeping that mental image out of his head - and there’s a little café and a lounge. It reminds him of America, makes him think of how great LA had been for them.
Liam’s thinking of sunshine and pools and tan skin and he passes the lounge and almost doesn’t hear the music coming from it. It’s piano, testing, a tiny noise that doesn’t sound like a radio or TV.
He hesitates in the doorway for a second, intending just to see who it is and then turn around and maybe go to the gym or something, and he sees it’s Louis. Liam reels and nearly says something, calls out to him, but the silence of the last few days keeps him quiet.
Louis, back straight and fingers reaching, goes into a roll down the keys, right into some riff Liam’s never heard before, and, really, he’s not actually sure he’s ever even heard Louis play piano. All that time on the X Factor they were surrounded by every kind of musician and instrument and not once has Liam seen this.
Louis blows a note, maybe on purpose, maybe not. He taps a key once, twice, three times and slouches down. Liam can’t stand there anymore.
“Hey.” He sits on the bench, and Louis stares at him, takes his hands off his keys. Liam tries not to look too disappointed.
“Hello,” Louis says quietly, and his eyes shift self-consciously, another thing Liam has never seen.
“Would you - would you do that again?” Liam asks carefully, gesturing to the piano.
Louis’s eyes gleam. He taps a key again
“No, no, that thing.” Liam needs more hand gestures.
Louis eyes him for a minute, almost studying, before he lifts his hands again. He starts out with what Liam heard, this slow cascade down the keys, and then he moves faster, a tiny piece of a song Liam wants to hear more of. Liam moves his eyes from the fingers on the keys to Louis’ face, watching him concentrate, and thinks that he maybe wants to kiss the worry lines away from his mouth.
Louis stops, slouches down once more, and Liam wonders where Harry is, if he’s ever gotten to do this.
Liam thinks for a minute. “You should do that on the record.”
“I - what?” Louis gapes at him, his laugh surprised.
“Piano, you should play on the record.” Liam’s mind is spinning, thinking of what they could do if Louis played, how they could arrange it live-
“No thanks, mate,” Louis says, a little bitter.
“What do you mean?”
“Liam, that’s hardly a song, and it’s not even that good. They’d would never let me record, and if we do have piano, someone better than me would be playing.”
“Shut up,” Liam blurts and ignores Louis’ shocked face. “No, I want you to play on our record. If not this one, then the next one.”
Louis sighs, but his eyes soften. Liam is suddenly aware of how close they are, knee to hip on the piano bench. He can’t decide if he wants to flee the room or see if Louis would pull away if he held his hand right now.
--
Harry complains about a sore throat for two days, but he takes it about as serious as the rest of them and they almost play straight through Ireland before things go south. By Thursday’s sound check, there’s no questioning it when his voice abruptly stops and he winces. There’s no time to see him the next day, Harry waking up with no voice and a horrified expression and being whisked off to hospital, causing an uproar on Twitter none of them can be bothered to cool down. The rest of them are left to wait, told they can “rehearse alone for a bit”, but no, they really can’t.
--
The second they’re off the stage, Harry’s got people buzzing around him; one of their managers has his mouth wide open, shining a light down his throat and a few more people are hollering about the set, and Harry looks like he’s about to fall over. In the dark, Liam feels Louis standing close to him, buzzing and warm, pressed against his back. Distantly, the crowd roars as Matt starts his first song.
Zayn’s wedged himself in by Harry, listening for what Liam is sure will be said: Harry is done, and maybe not just for tonight. Niall’s flitting in and around them, unsure of where he should be and trying not to get in the way. As soon as the light comes out of Harry’s mouth, he swallows so hard his throat clicks and he grimaces. Liam watches as he locks eyes with Niall, and Harry’s voice is a whisper, but his eyes are proud, “You were brilliant.”
That sends the manager into a tizzy, shushing Harry as Niall tries to unsuccessfully hide his grin.
The next night, Harry goes through the choreography like it’s painful to do so, a second show he has to give up his solos, singing under Niall and Liam. Liam watches him give meek little waves and tiny smiles to the girls in the crowd and Liam hates it.
--
“I’m only going to ignore you if you try to talk, you know.”
Liam clicks the door of their hotel room shut. The TV is on mute, and Louis and Harry are on the bed together, Louis’ arm around Harry’s neck. Harry looks only slightly disgruntled at being kept there.
“Hi! We’re being quiet!” Louis shouts to him. Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Louis puts his hand over him. “No, shush! They said you’re not to talk.” He makes a face and quickly pulls away when Harry licks his palm.
“They said I could talk. Just not much,” Harry says. His voice is strained at best; Liam winces for him.
“Harry! Be quiet!”
“Impossible for you two,” Liam says, sitting at the end of the bed, and they both scowl at him.
Harry’s phone goes off, Louis shoving him back as he reaches for it, picking it up and answering. “Uh uh! You’re not allowed to - Oh, hello, Anne!”
Harry groans, meagerly grabbing for his phone.
“I’m doing very well, how are you, lovely?” Louis sticks his tongue out at Harry and Liam laughs. “No, he’s being a bit cheeky about the whole thing, would you like to speak with him?”
Louis pauses, then holds his hand over the phone. “It’s your mum,” he whispers. Harry rolls his eyes, but grins and takes his phone.
“Hi, mum.” The rest of Harry’s conversation floats away as he heads for the bathroom.
--
Harry’s been acting weird the whole day, and not normal Harry weird. Liam hasn’t seen much of him because he busies himself whenever Liam’s around, flitting from room to room with no time to talk, and Liam would think he’s avoiding them, but Harry’s been wrestling around with Zayn and Niall all afternoon. He sees confusion and hurt flash in Louis’ eyes when Harry grins huge, says he’s going to Matt and Aiden’s room, so Liam settles down in bed with him, hopes this isn’t going to be a repeat of last time.
The night gets later and they’re going to be told to stay in their rooms soon. Liam’s on the phone with Andy, pressed against Louis, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.
“I don’t think your mum wants me coming around anymore,” Andy says.
“I think she just wants you to stop eating all the food,” Liam says. Louis has Liam’s hand that isn’t attached to the phone, absentmindedly playing with the bracelets around his wrist, eyes on the TV and humming to whatever song Louis hums to.
“Well, you’re not there to eat it, someone’s got to.”
The door clicks open and Harry’s there, eyes bright and cheeks reddened a little. Liam and Louis look up in surprise.
“Well, come on, you two,” Harry says expectantly, holding the door open. Liam looks to Louis, then back at Harry, confused. “We’re going out, come on,” he says excitedly.
Liam is still confused, but at least Harry’s talking to them. “Right, mate, I’ve got to go,” he tells Andy, hanging up.
Harry takes them outside, the dark cool against Liam’s skin. They walk in silence, Louis nearest to Liam and fiddling with his bracelets again, which Liam doesn’t like at all suddenly, because it means Louis is nervous, and he shouldn’t be. Liam hopes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of their security guys hanging back, following their path and staring around like he always goes for a late night stroll with three young boys.
“What-” Liam starts to ask, but Harry sees where he’s looking.
“Yeah, sorry, the only way we could do this was if he came with,” he says sheepishly, and he starts to speed up.
“The hell are we doing, Harry?” Louis asks, but he doesn’t get an answer, so Liam just shrugs at him and tries to catch up with Harry.
and then it's something like he takes them to this little restaurant that's still open and orders them hot chocolates (with extra marshmallows and whipped cream for Louis) and sits across from them in the booth and chatters on about Cher and some prank Aiden pulled and what did you two do today and his cheeks are still flushed but Liam doesn't think it's from the cold, not anymore, and Louis stops drinking his hot chocolate (he's got whipped cream smeared all over his lips and Liam is waiting for an appropriate time to lick it off) and blurts "Harry is this - are you taking us on an actual date right now?" and Liam laughs kind of nervously, but he looks back at Harry and he's got his head ducked down, biting his lip, staring a hole into his chocolate and oh.