#adventcal

(advent drabbles)

Zayn had always been able to understand them. Since he was a little boy he’d scooped up earthworms caught in endless driveways or saved sparrows tangled in chicken wire.

“That rabbit likes your violets.”

Liam said it so causally, as if it were normal to translate the thoughts of animals into human speech.

“He comes back nearly every day, usually brings his brother,” Zayn replied, wondering how the boy beside him remained so blasé about his gift. It was rare; Zayn had never met anyone else who had it. Liam smiled at him, a slow motion that started in his eyes before it ever reached his lips, like a flower putting out leaves before a bud.

“I usually don’t tell people. But since you can too, I figure it’s safe. Maybe lots of things are safe. It’s nice not needing words,” Liam said, scooting in Zayn’s direction, bumping their thighs.

Zayn’s cheeks grew warm. “You can’t read my mind, it doesn’t work on humans. That’s not possible.” 

“You sure?” 

(advent drabbles)

Louis lay half between sleep and rest, one ear listening for the door, the other pressed to the couch pillow. He’d not been sleeping well, a result of near constant jet lag and a busy schedule. 

“Babe?” 

He heard Harry’s voice, then the close of their front door. Startling off the sofa, Louis tumbled down the hallway, weaving and skidding in almost-wakefulness.

“You’re home,” Louis sighed, clasping Harry tightly in his arms. Oh how softly the universe fit against his chest.

“Baby...” Because Harry knew Louis’ aura perhaps better than his own, he could feel the need, the hopeful closeness, the knowing in Louis’ thinly-worn energy; Louis didn’t have to say a word.

Harry breathed out slowly, his chest deflating and suctioning Louis tighter into him. Louis craved absorption, oneness, healing. He wanted to bathe in Harry’s glow, the grasping heat of his skin, the calmness of his heartbeat. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Harry whispered, the truth in his words sending a ripple of chills up Louis’ spin, a shock wave of resonance that shimmered out and filled the hallway with silence. 

(advent drabbles)

The stars looked bright as moonlight overhead. Up here, high in the mountains, far away from the saturation of city lights, even the Milky-way splashed across the heavens like spilled diamonds. 

“There’s one!” Harry called out excitedly, pointing to where a point of light streaked across the sky. 

“What’d you wish for, love?” Louis cuddled closer to Harry and pulled the fleece blanket they were sitting on tighter around him. The night air tingled with cold though it was the middle of summer.

“What I wish for every time,” Harry hummed, planting a kiss on Louis’ temple. 

“Am I supposed to guess, then?” 

“Mmm.” 

Louis often divided Harry into three categories: humanitarian-idealist, loyal-friend-helper, and private-dreamer. It could be a hard guess what Harry had wished for. World peace? Happiness for his mum? Babies of his own?

“I hope you didn't waste a wish on my bum. It’s already very much yours.” 

“No, don’t worry.” Harry cleared his throat, his voice dropping a good octave. “Might have... wished, um,” 

Louis squeezed him encouragingly. “Ya?”

(Advent drabbles)

“Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree…”

Harry hummed, the words of the song fading in and out as he rocked the baby in his arms. He’d begged the mother to let him sing the child to sleep and had subsequently sequestered himself in the living room beside the Christmas tree. The babe slept now, the tree lights glowing across his puffy cheeks and delicate little lips. Like all babies, he was perfect.

“Mmm mmm mmm….” Harry got distracted by the baby’s small yawn. “One little thing, a ring, I don’t mean on the phone, Santa baby, so—“

“Hurry down the chimney tonight.” Louis sat down softly beside him on the carpet and tucked a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Well I hurried, love.”

Louis tugged a tiny box from his pocket and popped it open. It revealed a ring.

“To add to your collection, Hazza.”

(Advent drabbles)

“Harry?”

Harry had slipped away again, away into that blissful state between silence and sleep where colors turn to pastels and noise becomes soft and blurred.

“Mmm?”

“Hair tie, love.”

“Oh.” Harry slipped the band off his wrist. His hair had finally gotten long enough for Louis to braid again. Harry loved to sleep with the little tendrils hanging about his face, their bulky tied ends like beads against his pillow. But it was worth it, because in the morning he’d undo his hair and it would be a mass of crinkly curls.

He couldn’t leave it like that, of course, so he’d shower and wash the waves out. With any luck, Louis would help him with that as well.

“Don’t stop,” Harry pleaded when Louis tied the last braid.

“You don’t have any more hair, Hazza.”

“Oh.” Harry yawned, stretching his hands back towards Louis. “I wish I could be Rapunzel so you’d never finish.”

(advent drabbles)

Louis rolled over halfheartedly. His pulse picked up as the dawn flickered against his eyelids. Where was he again?

The snoring beside him soon answered that question. The bed of the beautiful boy from the club. Louis never stayed ‘til morning. Louis never let himself walk back to his apartment in the light of day. He didn’t usually let anyone fuck him either, but last night had been a full moon; even the air had been spiked with something strange. In the end they’d both had a turn, being quite generous with each other, really. 

“You’re awake.” Green eyes opened beside him and the boy scooted closer, his mess of curls coming to tickle Louis’ shoulder. 

“I am,” Louis yawned, staring in awe at the way the boy’s lips had swollen with sleep to curve plump and dewy in a perfect cupid’s bow. In the soft morning light they seemed painted with lipstick. 

“You’ll stay for breakfast, won’t you?” The boy (Louis now remembered his name: Harry) asked, a tight urgency to his tone. 

“If you want me to, sure.” Louis tried to sound nonchelant but he failed.

(Advent drabbles)

Liam fixed things again, smoothed over the interview, comforted Harry afterwards when he sulked. He sent Niall to bed and Louis he discharged as well, finishing up the day’s press questions alone. He didn’t know Zayn had stayed behind.

Somehow Liam always seemed to be mothering them. Zayn wondered who mothered Liam; Liam, whose soft, gentle demeanor had left him friendless and bullied for so much of his life, Liam who now did anything, anything for his boys.

“Oh! Didn’t realize you were still here.” Liam gave him a broad smile.

“Wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

They’d hooked up off and on for the past three months, Zayn almost always the initiator. Liam had a tendency to mask his pain from everyone, letting no one see if he hurt inside; Zayn had made it his unofficial mission to put and end to this.

“I’m fine. Just… busy day, you know? You’re good though?”

“Ya. I’m good.” Zayn went to Liam and tugged on the handkerchief in his back pocket.

“Oh.” Liam swallowed and licked his lips. This was still new for him.

“Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”