#lida's queue

"Yes, please." The teen steps forward and helps Liam maneuver the painting into place. "Thanks. I'm Liam, by the way. Painter."

"Zayn Malik. Photographer." They shake hands briefly, Liam noting details about the stranger. He was shorter than Liam by maybe a centimeter, skinny and angular. He wore battered jeans and a red t-shirt under a worn grey hoodie, with a canvas bag crossing his chest and a camera hanging around his neck on a thick black strap. "You here on scholarship?"

Liam blushes--of course this is one of the teens who actually earned their right to be here. "My sister's running the exhibit, so..."

Zayn whistles between his teeth. "Damn, you're Payne's brother? I was wondering when I'd meet you. We're exhibit buddies." At Liam's puzzled look, Zayn clarifies. "Right, you weren't at orientation. Blizzard in Denmark?" Liam nods, still completely lost as to what Zayn is talking about. "Part of the exhibit is contrast between mediums. You're a fairly abstract designer--not that your detail work isn't great, it's pretty cool actually, especially with those watercolor backgrounds--but I'm more of a realist. I mean, look."

Liam immediately looks at the photographs hanging beside his paintings, and instantly notices the sharp contrast, as well as the similarities. The painting Liam had been hanging was of his boarding school during the early stages of a fierce winter blizzard, before they'd gotten dug out. The entire work was soft snowbanks in muted blues and pinks as the sun went down, the buildings blazing with light and one lone person walking on the snow covered path, wrapped in thick coats and scarves; the matted photograph three feet to the right was almost exactly the same, albeit in photograph version. Liam's painting really is more abstract than he'd thought when put in comparison to Zayn's photograph, but when he glances back over to Zayn's, the photo now seems painfully sharp.

It's a fantastic display, the two pieces together. It shouldn't work, but it does.

"Whoa," Liam breathes, suddenly noticing the same contrast in every single display around the room. "That's insane."

Zayn ruffles his hand through his hair, stretching. "That was my reaction, too." He fiddles with the strap of his bag. "Wanna go get coffee?"

Liam blinks in surprise. "Um, okay?"

They find a quirky little cafe two blocks away from the museum and settle in as it begins to snow lightly. They just start talking, about their art, about other interests outside of it, about their lives.

Zayn admits he'd been attacked in a brutal assault by homophobes in his school, and he'd almost died, but since he pulled through, a zero-tolerance policy had been instated with investigations into the behavior of multiple students.

"I'm not exactly the most well liked student," he admits, stirring his coffee. "But at least I'm not getting beat up. And my best friends help."

Liam kind of stares for awhile. "My life's not nearly so...I mean, I'm pretty sheltered. I live in this insane boarding school--and I really mean insane, my dormmates are crazy, I mean it, Harry and Louis should never be let loose on the world, like ever--and I'm in the school choir--which isn't as lame as it sounds, it's a lot of fun--but other than that--oh, crap."

He'd accidentally elbowed his cup, knocking lukewarm coffee all over his shirt.

Zayn jumps up with a handful of napkins and helps mop up some of the mess, but Liam's shirt is certainly damaged beyond repair.

"Here." Liam looks up to see Zayn holding out his hoodie. "I've got my coat, and besides, you'll get really sick wearing that outside."

Liam takes the sweatshirt and goes to the bathroom to change.

Zayn wears the same size as Liam, and even though it had been a little big on Zayn, it fits Liam perfectly. It's soft, and clearly well worn, as comfortably textured as it had looked earlier. It smells nice, a kind of mix of some sort of spice and a faint floral scent as well. The thing is, it's the kind of clothes he'd never pick out for himself, but there's something comforting in the old grey fabric. He'd never admit it, but he's not looking forward to relinquishing it when the time comes to give it back.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Zayn is kind of blushing, but Liam dismisses it. "It's really comfy."

Zayn scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, I think every single one of my friends has borrowed it at some point. If it smells kinda flowery, it's because Danielle spilled perfume all over it a while back. It's never really gone away."

Liam gets another coffee and they settle back at their table. One coffee turns into three, and an hour turns into two. Phone numbers are exchanged, and Zayn takes at least a dozen pictures of Liam. Well, Liam only knows of a dozen, and there are probably more that he didn't catch. 

They only stop talking when Liam gets an annoyed call from his sister.

"I gotta go," he apologizes, putting his phone back into his bag. "But it was definitely fun. See you tonight?"

"I'll walk you back," he offers, and Liam agrees, blushing.

The walk back is interesting, filled with anecdotes and camera flashes ("Don't you dare, I look horrible!") and Liam only trips twice and slides in four puddles, which has to be some kind of record. (He's the biggest klutz in the world. His mom used to say it was because the universe has to balance out his entire being, or else he'd be too perfect)

Once they reach the museum, Zayn fixes Liam with a steady gaze. "Are you gay, Liam?"

The taller boy is utterly taken aback and only blinks at Zayn confusedly. "Why?"

"I'm wondering if it's alright to ask you out."

Liam squirms a bit and finally just shrugs. "I dunno. Never really thought about it."

Zayn is about to say something when a shriek of "Liam!" echoes through the marble archway and both boys jump.

"I'll let you go," Zayn says, stepping back. "But think about it, 'k?"

It's not until Liam is back in the hall and he's getting weird looks from Eleanor, his sister's assistant, and the two curators that he realizes he's still wearing Zayn's sweatshirt. He mentally curses and promises himself that he's going to return it that night. Really.

...

Turns out they don't see each other that night, because they're both so busy talking to guests and explaining their various pieces. ("No, I'm not a photographer; those are Zayn Malik's, he's over there" is said so many times Liam just does it on autopilot after the first fifty times.)

On the ride back to his apartment, Liam texts Zayn, and they proceed to have a fifteen minute conversation about one woman's insistence on bringing her poodle into the exhibit and the fact that half the guests were completely drenched due to the sudden rain storm (what exactly happened to the snow from earlier isn't clear) and how there was a fair number of women in ball gowns looking like drowned Chihuahuas.

They each take an hour to dry off and warm up, but come midnight, Liam is sitting in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate, Coco's head on his lap, texting Zayn.

Nicola sails into the kitchen and catches the expression on Liam's face.

"Either you're more excited about this exhibit than I thought, or you're in love," she teases, ruffling his hair and taking a can of Pepsi out of the fridge. "I'd say love."

Liam stares at his sister, who never teases him and never drinks soda. And she especially doesn't ruffle his hair.

Nicola catches his shocked expression. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I am human too, you know." She leans on the counter and studies her brother's face. "What's her--or his--name? You must've hit it off, considering you haven't taken off that sweatshirt yet."

"Zayn," he finally replies, after she snapped her fingers in front of his face. He sips his hot chocolate, careful to not spill the near-scalding liquid. "But I'm not sure if I like him or anything." 

His sister chuckles. "Liam, love, I saw that very expression every day when Dad was with Mum." Nicola reaches over the brush a curl off Liam's forehead. "You might not know it yet, but you're in love." She sets her can down and twists off the tab, cutting her finger in the process. "Ow!" She grins wryly as she produces a designer bandaid from a pocket. "I don't know how you managed to avoid the family clumsiness gene."

Liam doesn't reply, seriously trying to figure out if aliens have replaced his sister, because this is so bizzare, and so out of character for her, that he's kind of terrified that something bad is about to happen.

"...why are you bringing this up now?"

Nicola shrugs, sipping her Pepsi, finger now wrapped in a paisley patterned bandaid. "You're growing up. I hadn't realized it. You've always been my baby brother, and I guess I hadn't realized you weren't the little boy who got dumped in my lap at the worst possible time until you came running into that hall, your face lit up like that and drowning in someone else's sweatshirt." She sighs, and tilts his chin up. "You might still be hopeless with your clothes and your hair might be as horrible as your mine, but you're not my baby brother any more. I've missed so much already, and I just want to be part of this. So, tell me, what's Zayn like?"

For some reason, Liam finds himself opening up and talking about Zayn--it's one of the most surreal experiences of his life, sitting in the kitchen with his sister, drinking soda and hot chocolate, discussing his practically non-existent love life. It's the first time he's had a conversation with his sister that hasn't been monosyllabic or involved art or fashion in some capacity, and it simultaneously terrifies and elates him.

...

The next day, Liam finds himself sitting the gallery, watching people flit through. He notices that people tend to pause the most at first Zayn's photos and then linger at his before moving on to everything else. A group of kids swarm past the bench were Liam is sitting--he'd say it was a school class, except it's three days past Christmas and there's not a single school in New York that's in session right now--and one of them almost knocks over Liam's sketchbook, but nothing comes of it.

He's not sure how long he sits there, but a significant amount of time has passed when Zayn settles next to him.

"It's weird," Zayn says. "There are sixteen artists showcased here, and none of us have anything in common other than art, but everyone's got the same kind of themes in their stuff."

Liam's grown up around this kind of thing, and he's seen enough of the exhibit to know that's not quite true. He says so, citing examples and explaining how everything is different, even if it has a theme, and that's what makes it a collection and a unique exhibit, because the only requirement was that the pieces focused on expression and freedom.

Zayn counters, arguing the use of medium and how Kelsey DeWitt's photography is frighteningly similar to Angela Rickett's charcoal and pastel pieces.

They leave the museum still debating.

At Central Park, Zayn takes a dozen Polaroids and at least three hundred with his DSLR, 95% of which featured Liam in some way.

They spent two hours talking, playing the What's-That-Person-Really-Like game, Any 10 Questions, learning things about each other. Liam finds himself admitting things he'd never said to anyone else and  he likes it when Zayn laughs, eyes sparkling.

They're about to cross the street to find a place to eat lunch when Liam notices his sister's personal assistant Eleanor surreptitiously following them.

"Zayn," he says, carefully not looking at Eleanor. "Don't freak out, but I think my sister sent her PA to stalk us."

Zayn pauses midsentence. "Okay? I thought we were talking about music? I mean, Niall and Danielle have been threatening to buy tickets to London since I made the mistake of telling them about you. She's not doing anything bad, is she?"

"No, just following us."

Zayn stops, turns, and waves. Eleanor immediately snaps a photo with her iPhone and then melts into the crowd. Zayn turns back to Liam.

"You were saying about a visit to Central Park?"

.

It turns out they're going to the airport at the same time, although they're on different flights. Zayn walks Liam to his gate and dips him to give him a kiss.

The little old woman Liam sits next to on the plane doesn't stop talking about how cute they are together for the entire eight hour flight to London, and then for three more hours when it turns out they're seatmates again on the flight to Denmark.

.

Liam's never been in a long distance relationship. Actually, scratch that, he's never been in a relationship period. So he's not entirely sure if this is normal, texting and skype and long phone calls.

It feels right, though.

When they do finally see each other in person, it feels like it was always supposed to be that way. They don't do fancy or extravagant date--kind of hard when they have to travel long distances to see each other--but what they do is fun and sweet and just right. They go for long walks and watch cheesy movies projected on a bedsheet in Zayn's backyard and go out for ice cream with their friends and a lot of kissing.

Eleanor calls weekly to check in on them, and honestly, this is the longest any of his sister's PAs have ever stuck around. Nicola hasn't sat down with Liam or even talked with him since that night in the kitchen, but he'll find occasional notices of competitions where Zayn is involved or train tickets out to Bradford, England. When he's home, he'll sometimes find notes in her looping handwriting, informing him that Zayn called, and that's a lot better than previous breaks.

When summer comes around, Zayn comes and visits for two whole weeks. They don't really stay in London--okay, they do for three days, doing all the touristy things like Madame Tussauds and Buckingham Palace and all that--but take the train up to Scotland and down to France, and when they get back, they take a pottery class. It's perfect, and Zayn has the photos to prove it.

Sometimes though, Liam wonders if this is too easy.

Because curled up into Zayn's side, that feels perfect. And he can trust Zayn with anything, and taking is so easy. Zayn gets it when Liam needs time to just paint and clear his head.

Except...every relationship Liam has ever witnessed has always included fights, and broken items. Mum and Dad divorced. Nicola keeps breaking up with and getting back together with and yelling at Wes. There's the infamous Louis-Harry thing back at school. They always fight--and Liam never fights with Zayn.

And he's only seventeen (okay, eighteen in two weeks, but that's beside the point). How's he supposed to know if this should be forever?

So he breaks it off. Over text, like a coward, and he makes it just haughty enough that Zayn and his friends will be convinced that Liam was just some spoilt rich brat jerking Zayn around for the fun of it. With that kind of breakup, they won't want to know why. They'd assume they'd already know.

It hurts, and he returns to school a little bit lighter and a whole lot heavier.

Harry is the first to catch on that something is off. Probably because he finds Liam outside, setting Zayn's album on fire.

"Liam?" Harry's voice is hesitant and worried. "Dude, what are you doing?" He smothers the flame with a quick blast of fire extinguisher and sits next to Liam. "What happened? I thought you and Zayn were solid."

Liam shrugs, and turns away. "We were. And then we weren't." He misses texting Zayn, and those weird phone calls with Zayn's friends. But he'd been the one to break it off, so he probably doesn't have a right to complain. He's never been in this position before, so he has no clue what he's supposed to be acting like. Right now he just feels a whole lot like crying and calling Zayn and telling him he messed up.

"Well, if you need to talk, any of us in Milagrosa House are willing to listen." Harry picks up the album. "And I'm keeping this safe for you."

"Whatever."

Liam stands, nearly trips over the doorstop and returns to his room.

Various people drop by and attempt to get answers out of him--including Josh, which is really just plain awkward and weird--but he manages to wave them all off with simple excuses, a trip on the stairs, an "oh, look, what are they doing?" Slowly, people shut up and back off about it.

.

He gets a phone call from Niall Horan a week into first semester, where the slightly older boy just yells and yells and yells. Liam doesn't say anything, just cries a bit, and so he's surprised when a cool hand takes the phone from him and starts yelling back at Niall.

"I don't know what is going on but Liam's obviously broken up about it and if you don't stop yelling at him right this minute you insufficiently intelligent moron who probably can't spell worth shit, I swear to God I will track you down and rip your hair out of your scalp and donate it to a homeless shelter."

Niall is sufficiently shocked into silence, as is Liam, who gapes up at Louis Tomlinson.

"He's broken up about it?" Niall finally spits back. "Zayn hasn't left his bedroom for almost a month."

"And Liam's turned to pyromania. So shut the fuck up, delete the number and tell him to get over it." Louis hangs the phone up with a distinct click. "Hi. Sorry about that. You're one of the art TAs, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Great, come help me figure out Mrs Peterson's project from hell. Just because I'm in drama doesn't mean I'm artsy. I can't tell Monet from Picasso."

Liam looks suitably horrified and lets Louis drag him off into the depths of the campus.

.

It's strange, that having broken up with his boyfriend makes Liam more creative. He vaguely thinks it shouldn't work that way, but he's not complaining.

He paints Zayn once, twice, three times, and never lets anyone see them. Instead, he throws himself into a portrait series, painting people in monochrome schemes, hiding pieces of what he associates with them in every part of the canvas.

He does one of Louis made out of many little Louis figures. He does a collage style portrait of Harry, and an all black and white shadow portrait of his sister. He even does one of Eleanor, who plants a kiss on his cheek and proudly hangs it in her apartment. When he runs out of people he knows, he goes and sits in the off campus coffee shop with his sketchbook and lead pencils and sketches, then makes paintings from the sketches.

He tries sculpture and paper mache, different types of paint and various materials, until he finds the perfect medium and goes with it.

The only thing he doesn't try is photography.

It's best to leave some things to memory.

Either way, his portfolio grows and grows, and university is a no brainer. He's grown up and moved on--except sometimes he realizes he hasn't. He mostly tries to ignore that, though.

.

Zayn pauses at the corner, seeing a familiar mop of hair across the street. There was no way that was actually him, was it?

Niall tugs at his arm. "C'mon, Zayn. We're going to be late." When Zayn doesn't move, still staring at the stranger, Niall huffs and turns to see what had caught Zayn's interest. "It's not him, Zayn. What are the chances?"

Zayn shakes his head, seeing that it was someone else entirely. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking. Let's go."

The art gala is at the same museum where Zayn first met Liam and he's given pause, considering some of the pieces look scarily familiar. He can't bring himself to look too closely, because he's not sure what he'd do if it was actually Liam.  He's alright with pretending he has no idea why the gallery is named the Payne Gallery, and he's alright with pretending he has nothing to do with Liam Payne.

That disillusion is shot to hell when someone slams into him.

Zayn stares at Liam. "Holy hell, that's actually you," he breathes, staring at the familiar face. "Liam, it's you!"

Liam shuffles awkwardly. "Um, yeah." he ruffles a hand through his hair. "Hi?"

Suddenly, Zayn lunges forward and wraps Liam in a tight hug, face buried in the crook of his neck. "Jesus Christ, Liam, I missed you so fucking much."

A pointed cough beside them makes Zayn pull back. He studies the boy with curly hair curiously, not recognizing him.

"Um, Zayn, this is my roommate and best friend, Harry Styles. Harry, this is...this is my ex-boyfriend, Zayn Malik."

Despite himself, Zayn snorts. "And then you ended it."

Liam at least has the tact to look embarrassed. "Yeah. Sort of. What are you doing here?"

"Attending NYU, arts program. You?"

"Colombia."

"I feel like I should warn you, Niall's still out for blood."

Harry snorted. "Louis practically adopted Liam after whatever happened. He'd tear your Niall to shreds."

Small talk is awkward, until Zayn excuses himself for a smoke break and Liam trails behind, leaving Niall and Louis to glare daggers at each other.

"So you want to give this another go?"

Zayn exhales a cloud of smoke, and Liam has an intense desire to take Zayn's own camera and take a photograph. "Only if you tell me why you ended it in the first place."

"I was scared," Liam admits in a small voice. "Fucking terrified, actually."

Liam half expects Zayn to laugh, but instead his voice is only a little bitter. "Of what?"

"We never fought. And everyone else I know...they fight when they're in love."

"It's not always like that." Zayn grinds out his cigarette and lifts his camera to snatch a shot of Liam, looking loose and vulnerable. "Frown."

Liam immediately breaks out into a wide, joyful grin and Zayn takes the shot. "Why do you always say that? Frown?"

"Easiest way to make people genuinely smile."

"Always works on me," Liam admits and stares up at the smoggy New York skyline. "You ever wonder why so many love stories are set here? It's like the least romantic place in the world."

"It's got potential, though."

"I guess."

They sit in silence, and that's it, that's everything that Zayn's been missing.

Zayn leans over and kisses Liam, tasting of cigarette and wine and everything Liam used to love.

"We fell in love too early, is all." he explains. "Ready to try again?"

"With you here?" Liam smiles. "Anything at all."

--

"Hey, baby," a voice purred into Liam's ear, and he suddenly found himself with a lap full of Louise Tomlinson, blocking his Calculus textbook. "So. We've got plans this weekend, we're going to Cher's party, and we're going to get pissed, and  then we're going to have sex all weekend. Sound good?"

Louise was one of the fittest girls Liam had ever met, hair always perfectly coiffed, makeup immaculately done, with big blue eyes and bubblegum pink lips. She was also one of the most confusing people he'd ever met.

"Sure," he said faintly, trying to figure out what angle she was playing this time. His thoughts were interrupted by his best friend, Niall.

"Niall!" Louise squealed, darting up to give Niall a hug and plant a kiss on both of her cheeks. "You're looking fit this week, honey. New shirt?"

Niall rolled her eyes. "Louise, you're creeping out your boyfriend again. Stop it."

Louise huffed. "You steal all my fun," she pouted, but returned to her spot on Liam's lap and distracting Liam from his calc homework.

--

Harry caught Liam's elbow. "Liam, mate. You alright?"

Liam paused, his shirt half up his arms and not quite over his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You've got these horrible scratches and bruises on your back, are you alright?"

The taller man immediately flushed. "Yeah. Um. Louise likes to leave a mark?" He phrased it like a question, but Harry caught the underlying meaning.

"I thought she was trying not to scare you off?" Harry looked puzzled. He and Louise had been friends forever, so he would likely know.

"I guess?" Liam pulled his shirt over his head and turned to pack up his gym bag. "I mean, she's sort of my girlfriend, and she likes it and it doesn't actually hurt all that much, so."

"Liam, promise me you'll be careful, yeah?" Harry looked uncharacteristically worried. "She's my best friend but...she can go a bit over the top. She's known for ripping people to shreds for a reason."

"I'll keep safety scissors on me at all times."

Harry didn't look amused. "Liam, I'm serious."

"So am I. Louise is harmless. Mostly. Her nails are killer." Liam shouldered his bag and clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Trust me. If it got abusive, I'd get out. I'm not studying to be a psychologist for no reason, you know."

--

It had been an extraordinarily long week, and Louise had somehow managed to talk Niall into a sleepover. It turned out to be a lot less terrifying than Niall had expected and involved a lot more Disney movies and nail polish than Niall had been expecting.

Louise tossed a bit of popcorn into the air and caught it in her mouth. "I think I like you, Niall."

Niall grinned at Louise, waving the nail polish brush in the air. "It's nice being girly. I mean, God forbid I did my nails with Zayn or Liam in case girliness rubbed off on them."

"Harry never minds," Louise shared, eating another handful of popcorn. "But that might because I threatened to castrate him with nail scissors."

The blonde threw her head back and laughed. "You better not carry through on that! I like him exactly the way he is." She drew out the last sentence, making the words drip with innuendo.

"I definitely like you, Ni." Louise leaned over and kissed Niall soundly on the cheek. "Now come on, hurry up so we can get dressed and go out."

Niall looked down at her tank top and soffee shorts. "I don't exactly have clothes for going out, Lou."

"You're wearing some of my clothes," Louise said decisively. "I've got a dress that's going to look absolutely gorgeous on you."

Louise turned out to have four or five dresses, but eventually she threw a slip of black fabric and a pair of spiky heels at Niall and shooed her into the bathroom to change.

"I don't know how I feel about this," Niall said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was tight and black with a silver sequined flower arching over her left hip; the shoes were silver and strappy, and a hell of a lot higher than Niall was used to wearing.

"You look hot, don't worry about it." Louise grinned. "I am good at making people look hot."

"No, I meant going out dancing."

"Well, we're not doing anything wrong, like cheating. I don't plan on kissing any boys tonight, do you?" Louise reached over and adjusted Niall's skirt a little. "It's not cheating if we go out partying with our girlfriends, yeah? We're just going out dancing. And if our boyfriends get jealous, so much the better. I love jealous boys, don't you?"

Niall shook her head in disbelief. "You are an insult to feminists everywhere."

"Where in feminist coda does it say I can't do what I want with my body?" Louise pouted, stepping into the strappy silver heels that she wore when she wanted to look taller. "I had this talk with Liam too, did his sister infect your brain? I'm a feminist, since I'm after political, economic and social rights for women. I just happen to be a feminist who likes shiny clothes and dancing."

"I guess you have a point," Niall admitted. "Get over here and fix my hair."

"Why do you have a pixie cut anyways?"

"Because it's easy to deal with," Niall shot back. "And I don't have to brush my hair in the morning, I can roll out of bed and it looks stylish."

"Yeah, yeah," Louise rolled her eyes and snagged a wide black headband off her nightstand, along with a flat hairbrush. "Alright, hold still." It took five minutes, but Louise managed to wrestle Niall's hair into a cute style that to Niall looked exactly like it had before Louise started, with only the addition of the headband.

Louis sat on Niall's lap, carefully applying eyeliner and shimmery eyeshadow that made Niall's vibrant blue eyes pop. When she was done, she pulled her phone out of her bra and flicked the camera setting on.

"Smile!" Louise took a photo of them curled together in their shimmery party clothes and grinned. "Which boy should we send this to? Liam will have a heart attack over how short this skirt is on me, but Harry's reaction will be precious." Louise looked up at Niall. "Who do you think?"

"Zayn," Niall announced, smirking. "He'll flip out and undoubtedly show the photo to both Liam and Harry. Jackpot."

"Done and done," Louise said, and pressed send.

--

Liam, on the other hand, finally caved and agreed to attend one of Harry's Friday evening video game sessions. For whatever reason, Zayn and Harry got along really well, once they got over the whole Harry-is-dating-the-girl-who's-practically-Zayn's-little-sister thing.

"I knew you’d be around eventually. How’s the bitch?” Zayn asked.

"Zayn," Harry scowled. "Louise is nice. Most of the time. She's just a little over the top." He backed this up with a glare at Zayn--Harry was still Louise's best friend, even if she had gotten closer with Niall and was dating Liam.

Liam groaned and fell onto the couch, covering his face with his hands.

At that exact moment, Zayn's phone buzzed and he flicked open the text message. He spit his soda all over the floor and dropped the phone like it was on fire.

"What happened?" Harry asked, picking up the phone and looking at the message. "Damnit. Louise is going dancing with Niall, I guess."

Liam wished the couch would swallow him whole.

--

Niall wasn't entirely surprised when Louise turned out to know the bouncer, who let them in with no hassle at all.

She was a bit more surprised when the bartenders greeted Louise by name.

"Come here often, do you?"

"Often enough. I used to come here all the time with Harry. You go grab a table, I'll get us some beer."

Niall had no sooner found an empty table when she was surrounded by a trio of boys, led by a blond wearing the self-satisfied smirk that usually signified extreme arrogance.

Her suspicion was confirmed by the truly horrible pickup line he used on her.

"Thank you, no," she said in horror. "Absolutely not."

The trio didn't seem to get the hint and continued egging the blond on, leaving Niall to wait for Louis and try to ward him off."

Usually she wasn't one to let boys run over her, but she was wearing a frankly short dress and she was a little worried about what would happen if she stood up. She was strong, but she was also wearing three inch heels and only weighed about 120 pounds. This goon, stupid as he was, could probably pick her up.

Finally, she sighed. Time to play the boyfriend card. "No, I've got--"

"These boys bothering you, love?" Louise purred, perching on Niall's lap and wrapping her arms around Niall's neck. She placed two cool beer bottles on her lap, nudging one towards Niall with her knee. "Don't they realize you've got a very special date?"

"Date? Who?" the blond snorted, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops and looking skeptical.

"Me!" Louise giggled, pulling Niall into a possessive kiss. Finally, the group of boys took a hint and left. "Your boyfriend so owes me," Louise groused, wiping Niall's lipgloss off her mouth once the boys had gone off . "Also, bacon? I didn't even know they made bacon lipgloss. Oh my god, is Harry into that?"

Niall mumbled something about it being a gag gift and all she'd had in her purse.

"Well, you can borrow mine now, we've kissed, sharing lip gloss isn't going to do anything worse."

"What did you mean by my boyfriend owes you?"

Louise shrugged. "He'll find it hot. My boyfriend, on the other hand, is going to lecture me about kissing other people again."

"Again?"

"He was a very attractive uni boy and I don't believe in wasting opportunities," Louise said primly, her tone completely at odds with the way she was batting her eyelashes and using her phone to pop the caps off the beer bottles. "Come on, drink up. I want to dance!"

Louise turned out to be something of a horrible, if enthusiastic dancer. She couldn't manage much more than the generic white girl dance, but Niall found her enthusiasm catching and soon they were taking over the dancefloor, much to the approval of their fellow clubbers.

Niall allowed herself to get lost in the music, holding onto Louise's hands to keep herself from drifting too far.

--

When Louise finally got home, she was still drunk. Of course, she didn't make it to her house--she made it to Harry's.

"Wake up, Liam, babe!" she sang, somehow managing not to trip in her ridiculous six inch heels. She also somehow knew that Liam was crashed out in Harry's guestroom. "I've got some treats, we're going to have fun!"

Liam groggily sat up, reaching for the light switch. The yellow light of Harry's guest room bedside lamp pooled in the room, revealing Louise with a plastic shopping bag.

She was still dressed in her clubbing outfit, a shimmery green dress that showed more than it covered and left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was coming loose from its fancy updo, and he could see where her makeup had run a little from sweat.

He barely had time to process before she'd crawled on top of him, dropping the bag beside them.

"No, Louise," he finally choked out and flipped her over. "We're not doing this in Harry's house."

She pouted prettily up at him. "But why not?"

"Because it's Harry's house, Lou."

"He doesn't care." Louise pouted prettily, employing her version of puppy eyes. "He encourages it."

"His parents are home," Liam countered. "So, no."

"You're mine, Payne. And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it. Even Harry's parents."

"But--"

"Shut up, Liam," Louise huffed, kissing him.

Liam pushed her away with great effort on his part. "No. We're talking. Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Exactly this. Make a scene and generally act stupid."

Louise seemed to collapse in on herself. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Liam asked, entirely confused at this point. He was tired and frustrated and he just wanted to cuddle with his girlfriend.

"Knew you'd figure it out eventually, that you're too good for me."

"I'm too good for you?" Liam asked incredulously. "Where are you getting that idea?"

"You're popular, and you're nice, and you're smart, and it's obviously just a matter of time before you figure out I'm stupid and sort of a slut and no one likes me anyways."

"Look, I'm dating you, aren't I? I like you. I love you, in fact. But I don't like you acting insane when I know you're not like that almost at the time. I like you being flirty, I like you being fun, I love you being you--I don't like it when you act like you're purposely trying to get me to break up with you. Because I'm not going to do that." Liam finished his speech and Louise was staring at him with wide eyes.

"You mean it?"

"I mean it."

Suddenly, Louise was kissing him again, but it was slower, softer.

"If we're not having sex, can we at least cuddle?"

"Cuddling is good. Cuddle away."