hiiii new update again, just another filler while i lead up to the ending. and if you noticed that zayn and eleanor have been acting strange, what do you think it is that they're hiding? comment what you think, and don't forget to vote and fan too! Xx shanelle
--
"And this one, you can have all my old T-shirts," Zayn said, handing over the giant pile of clothes to Niall and Harry.
"I still don't get why you're giving up all your fancy clothes," Harry said as he junked the clothes into a box labeled T-SHIRTS.
"I need a new wardrobe for rehab," Zayn said casually. "Can't go around wearing these clothes or everyone's gonna think I'm some rich snotty millionaire -"
"Are you trying to imply that you're not a rich snotty millionaire?" Niall asked innocently.
Zayn pushed a load of sweaters into his arm, making Niall stumble back. "Even if I am, I don't want to look like it."
"Disguises," Harry said. "Clever."
Zayn tossed a few old pairs of jeans over his back, rummaging through his wardrobe.
"Hey, look," Niall said, coming over and nudging Zayn out of the way. "It's that old bracelet I gave you!"
"What?" Zayn leaned in to get a better look. "Holy - it's the one you bought for me during the X Factor, remember? I thought I'd lost that!"
"Damn well you didn't," Niall said, annoyed. "I spent two hundred pounds on that."
Zayn smiled sheepishly, taking the bracelet from Niall and placing it on the bedside table. "Right, anyway. What else is left?"
"Just a few old jackets, I'm pretty sure you don't need those," Harry said as he cleared out Zayn's wardrobe. "That's about it."
"Ugh, next time you call us in to do your shit for you, I'm expecting a free blowjob in return," Niall groaned, flipping himself onto the bed.
Harry jumped in beside him. "Make it a threesome."
"Fuck off, he's mine," Niall lightly boxed Harry's ear, pushing his head away.
"I'm lonely," Harry whined.
"Maybe I'll let Zayn give you a blowjob just once, since I feel so sorry for you," Niall said. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Probably not," Harry admitted. "The only blowjobs I accept come in the form of Louis Tomlinson's tongue."
"God, I really didn't need that mental image," Niall shut his eyes, grimacing.
"You should try it sometime, he's really good at it," Harry said. "Drags his tongue all the way down and then swirls at the tip-"
"Harry, shut up," Zayn clapped his hands over his ears. "That's disgusting."
"Sorry, I'm a little deprived."
"One week without sex doesn't make you deprived," Niall said.
"You're one to talk," Harry snorted. "Besides. It's more than a week. Louis' not going to fuck me for as long as I can see into the future."
Zayn paused, sensing the genuine stress behind Harry's joking tone. "Don't worry about it," he said, sidling into the bed beside Harry. "I can take care of that."
Harry immediately jumped up in horror. "God, gross, no!" he spluttered, rubbing his mouth like Zayn had actually kissed him. "Zayn, please, don't ever even think about it!"
Zayn laughed, pulling Niall on top of him. "Niall doesn't mind my kisses, see. You could pick up a few things from him. Don't always be so fussy, Harry."
Niall grinned, leaning his elbows on Zayn's chest. He moved a little so that he was lying directly above Zayn. "I love you."
Zayn nipped at Niall's cute little button nose. "I love you too."
Harry groaned loudly, banging his head against the wall.
"What?" Zayn murmured. "I offered, you just didn't wanna join in. It's your choice."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll leave both of you to attend to your sextape. I need to grab something to eat."
"I'll come with you," Niall said quickly, obviously feeling bad. He leaned down and kissed Zayn's mouth gently, and then scrambled off.
Zayn got up from his lying down position. He waited until Niall was out of the room, and then rushed to the door. "Hey, Harry! Come in for a sec, I need to tell you something."
Niall paused, confused. "Can I come too?"
"It's nothing important," Zayn assured him, pulling Harry in and closing the door, leaving Niall outside.
"What is it?" Harry looked around the room suspiciously. "If you're trying to seduce me for a quickie before lunch, I swear to God -"
"Shut up, I'm not going to seduce you," Zayn rolled his eyes, reaching for the bracelet on his bedside table, the one Niall got him. "I want you to have this."
Harry's eyebrows raised even higher. "Uh?" it came off as a question.
"I - I'll be leaving soon, won't I?" Zayn said. "I want you to have something to remember me by."
"You make it sound like you're going away forever."
Zayn sighed. "I'm not. But a whole year without you boys - that might as well be forever, you know. And the longest forever ever."
Harry gave him a sympathetic smile, catching Zayn off guard by throwing his arms around the other boy. "I love you, Zayn, we all do. It'll be alright, I promise."
Zayn was so taken back by the hug that it took him a moment to respond. He could feel something burning in his eyes as he hugged Harry back, as tight as he possibly could. "I love you too, Harry. A lot. I want you to take care for me."
"Don't get all emotional," Harry smiled weakly, but he was sniffing back his own tears. "You're still stuck with us for another week."
Zayn smiled back a little, wiping his eyes as he let go of Harry. "You better get going, Niall's gonna be all suspicious."
Harry laughed. "Want me to grab you a taco or something?"
"Nah, that's alright," Zayn waved it off. "Not hungry."
"You haven't eaten all day," Harry frowned.
"Not hungry," Zayn repeated. "And Harry, do me a favor. Don't tell Niall I gave you that bracelet - he might, you know. Get the wrong idea."
"Yeah, sure," Harry stuffed the bracelet into his back pocket as he went to the door and opened it.
Zayn watched, giving Harry an assuring half-smile as he left.
Then he slowly crept back into bed and sighed, switching off the lights. As darkness flooded the room, Zayn hugged himself, fingers curling over the seams of his clothes as he wondered what it would feel like to fall apart.
--
Louis rang the doorbell to the flat for the millionth time. "Hello?" he called. "Anybody home?"
After a few seconds of silence, just as he was about to give up and walk away, he heard the lock turning in its handle. An older woman peered out, with a heart-shaped face and kind brown eyes. "Hello, Louis."
"Hi, Mrs Calder," Louis said, smiling. "Can I speak to Eleanor?"
Mrs Calder sighed. "She's very ill, Louis."
"I know, but - but I've brought her flowers, and some Starbucks," Louis said hopefully, holding out the gifts. "I just wanted to talk to her, for a little while at least, please?"
Mrs Calder's face softened as she took in the flowers. "Poppies," she said, as she opened the door. "Ellie's favorite."
Louis smiled gratefully as he stepped inside. He'd only been here a few times before, to visit Eleanor's parents, and nothing seemed to have changed since the last time. It was still a cosy little apartment, with a flowery wallpaper and the smell of freshly-brewed coffee. The furniture was arranged neatly, and to Louis the whole place looked like a life-sized dollhouse.
"Could I get you something to drink, dear?" Mrs Calder said as she closed the door and shuffled toward the kitchen. "I've got some biscuits too. Butter cookies."
"No thanks, Mrs Calder, I've already eaten," Louis lied. "Where's Eleanor?"
"She's in her room," she said. "Might be asleep, though. She's had a horrible flu all week, can barely get out of bed."
"Oh," Louis said as he turned into the hallway. "I'll be gentle with her, then."
He located Eleanor's door easily, partly because of the large lavender sign that read "Eleanor", and partly because he didn't think it would be possible to forget the room he'd lost his virginity in.
He knocked gently, twirling the flowers in his hand. There was a murmured assent, followed by a noisy sneeze.
"Eleanor?" Louis pushed the door open, heart thumping as he took in the room. He remembered the first time he'd ever made love to her here, two teenagers so caught up with one another that the rest of the world spun out of control. He remembered the way she breathed into his neck, her legs curving around his waist like a python, long hair splayed out over the pillow as she moaned his name loudly and begged him to go faster, not caring if her parents heard, even if they were only two rooms away -
"Louis?" she opened her heavy eyelids. "You didn't - you didn't tell me you were coming."
"I bought you flowers," Louis said as he sat down beside the bed. "And coffee."
Eleanor smiled faintly. "Thank you."
"You look - uh," he said, unsure of how to describe her unusually pale, gaunt face. "You look really tired."
"I am," she sighed. "You shouldn't have just popped in, I haven't even got any makeup on."
"You don't need makeup to be pretty," Louis said. "Besides. I still think you're gorgeous."
Eleanor blew her nose into the tissue. She looked even skinnier than usual, more fragile than Louis had ever seen her before. Her hair was dull, the usually vibrant brown now tamed to a lackluster shade. Her face was thin and worn, with dark circles and eyes that were swollen red from crying. Her body seemed a lot skinnier than Louis thought possible, too. "So, um. How are things at home?"
"They're okay, actually," Louis said. "Liam and Danielle got it on with each other last weekend. Zayn's going to be checked into a rehab centre, but he's okay with it now."
"And what about Harry?" she asked quietly.
"He's - he's sad," Louis said. "But he'll be fine after a while."
"And you?" she asked.
"I'm good," he said, forcing on a smile.
She sighed, believing him. "Well, my friend Ellen is going to be here soon, so."
"Oh," Louis said, disappointed. "Um. Yeah. I'll leave, then. But I could call you tonight? When do you think you'll feel better?"
"Maybe a couple of days," she said, blowing her nose again. "Thanks for the flowers, though. I love poppies. They're my favorite."
"Yeah, your mum told me," Louis said, as he heard the door open behind him.
A girl with long buttery hair stepped in, carrying a tray of pills. She stopped when she saw Louis, opened her mouth, and then stared at Eleanor, lips moving wordlessly.
"He just came in for a visit, Ellen, it's alright," Eleanor said uncomfortably.
"You let - you let him visit you?" the girl screeched. "Eleanor, what's wrong with you? This guy - he broke your heart, he's the reason why you -"
She cut herself off as Eleanor shot her a warning look.
"I'm the reason for what?" Louis asked loudly. "What am I the reason for?"
"Nothing," Eleanor and Ellen both said at the same time.
Louis stared from one face to the other. "What's going on? What happened?"
"Nothing, Louis," Eleanor said in a forced, constricted voice. "You didn't do anything. I've got to take some pills and then get some rest, you can call me in a few hours. And then I'll arrange some dinner or something with you. Alright?"
"Fine," Louis said, giving in at the thought of finally getting to sit down and explain himself with her. "Take care of yourself. I'll call tonight."
"Alright, Lou," she said. "Thanks so much for coming over, and thanks again for the flowers. I love you."
Ellen opened her mouth at those words, but seemed to think better than whatever she was about to say.
"I love you - too," Louis said, swallowing the hard lump in his throat that rose at the four words on his lips. "Bye."
Eleanor smiled softly.
Louis bumped into Mrs Calder on the way out.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked him. "I'll whip up some fruit juice for you, dear."
"No, that's fine, thank you," Louis said, shaking his head and offering her a wary smile. "I've got somewhere important I need to be."
"Alright, darling, thank you for coming over to see Ellie," she said, ushering him to the door. "I'm sure she was delighted to see you."
"Hope so," Louis said as he stepped outside. "Thanks for everything, I'll be on my way."
Mrs Calder smiled and then closed the door.
Louis stood outside for a few moments, and then walked to the elevator, trying to focus on the route home and shaking off the uneasy feeling that Eleanor, Mrs Calder, and Ellen were all hiding something horrible from him.
--
"The problem is, Harry, that you're - you're a little desperate," Louis sighed, stopping Harry from going out a third night in a row. "I mean. I'm fine with you partying your arse off, but really. You're bringing home all these girls and then sending them away without even sleeping with them - and if I didn't know better, I'd just say it's a waste of time, money, and happiness for you."
"I'm not desperate," Harry said defensively.
"You slept outside my room in the cold for three nights, Harry, and you've never had the courage to ask me to let you in even once."
"Why would you?" Harry let out a harsh laugh that was so unlike him, because Harry was usually - usually happy and bright, and Harry. "I'm not desperate, Louis. I'm just. I'm stuck in this little memory of something that could've happened between us, but didn't."
Louis sighed. "You say that like it's a good thing."
"Least it's not desperate."
Louis watched Harry carefully. He took in the fine corners of Harry's eyes, gathering with defensiveness. Harry was unfairly beautiful, beautiful in an unbroken, untouched, pure way, and Louis loved that. He wished he were as honest as Harry, but he wasn't. He'd passed that stage of incorruptibility a long time ago.
"You're in love with me," Louis said, voice lowering. It almost ached to say those words out loud. "You're in love with me and I can't love you back."
"Why do you care, anyway?" Harry asked. "What am I to you?"
"Don't ever say that, Harry," Louis said quietly. "You're my best friend."
"You're doing a pretty shitty job of showing it," Harry said, suddenly bitter. "Best friends don't go around hurting each other the way you do."
Louis reached for Harry's wrists, took them delicately in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry because you know I'd give anything for you to be happy, but I can't, Harry. You don't understand. I'm - I'm a mess. Look at all the people I've ruined, the people I've hurt. And you - you're lovely. You're so lovely that it hurts, and what you're doing to me here - you're blaming all of this on me, like I wanted to leave you, when I really, really don't."
"Why did you start it, then?" Harry whispered, and he was leaning in so close that the tip of his nose brushed Louis' cheek. "Why did you start something you couldn't finish?"
Louis sighed again, feeling the breath leave his lips and touch the side of Harry's face softly. For a moment he was so tempted to lean in, close those few inches between their lips, but he'd told himself he was stronger than this...
"Louis," Harry breathed, fingers scrabbling at Louis' shoulder, clawing into the sweater. "Louis," his waist rutted against Louis' hips, meeting perfectly at the joint. "Louis," he leaned his head in and pressed his face into the juncture of Louis' neck and collarbone, exhaling quietly, breath warm and lips soft.
"This - this is okay," Louis realized, after half a second. "As long as, as long as we're not - we're not kissing."
Harry moved himself closer, the shape of his body pressed above Louis', taller and bigger and covering Louis, smothering him in his scent. "Is this still okay?" he asked softly.
Louis nodded, found his fingertips stuttering around the curve of Harry's waist and pressing into it firmly. He buried his face into the patch of skin on Harry's neck, sighing into it and letting his eyelashes flutter closed. "This is okay," he repeated. "This is okay!" he said, louder, laughing a little hysterically. "This is okay, Harry, it's okay, it's - it's okay."
"I know," Harry whispered. "I know, Lou."
"Don't sleep outside my door tonight," Louis advised.
"Can I come in, then? Can I lie with you?" Harry asked hopefully. "I mean. As long as we're not doing anything, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Louis said, then felt a smile break out onto his face, erupting through the weariness and fading the sunken tired lines like a volcano. "I'd love to lie with you, Harry."
He didn't even know why he was suddenly so happy. It was like he'd found a loophole for the long, dreaded years to come, being a husband and a father. He could still be Harry's friend, still cuddle and share the bed with him on late rainy nights, as long as they kept their affections on a platonic level. Louis was sure that inside they'd feel a lot more, inside both of them would want to touch and take and love as much as they could - but on the outside, as long as they didn't display the hells that they craved, it would be okay. It would always be okay.
"God, I love you," he laughed again. "I love you so fucking much!"
Harry looked at him, smiling, with bright eyes and fondness and hope and happiness, and Louis was so relieved he could cry.
"I love you," he repeated, holding Harry closer and memorizing the shape of his body, every ridge and curve and intonation under his fingertips. "I love you, Harry, oh God."
"I love you too," Harry whispered, still smiling, and Louis wished he could read the stars patterned inside Harry's green eyes, wished he could reach in and pull some of them out, so that he could have a little magic too.
Ten minutes later, they were lying on the soft material of Louis' bed, cushioning both their weights, with the door locked and curtains drawn, so that only a pale layer of moonlight seeped into the darkness.
"Goodnight," Louis mumbled, his mouth moving comfortably against Harry's tousled hair.
Harry looped an arm round Louis' waist, perhaps a little more affectionately than Louis would have normally allowed, but it was late and he was tired and for a while there was no Eleanor, no baby, no secrets. There was only Harry's eyes and his hair, and the quiet steady sound of his breathing, and the movement of his chest and the tapping of his heart, and him, him, him entirely. Only Harry and nothing else.
Louis liked it better this way, he realized, smiling a little as he finally closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
--
Niall woke up in with the familiar warmth of Zayn's sleeping figure beside him. Zayn's arms were loosely slung over his shoulders, still slightly in place from last night. Niall had returned home, stomach full to bursting, and the two of them had spent the whole day cuddling and talking.
From the soft daylight coming through the windows, Niall guessed that it was still around seven in the morning. He opened up the glass panes and let the crisp cold air flutter in, carrying the usual June breeze. The clouds over the sky foretold light rain, but it was always raining in London anyway.
He snuggled in beside Zayn again, shaking his shoulder. "Zayn, wake up," he whispered, tugging on his boyfriend's arm.
"I'm sleeeeeeepyyy," Zayn mumbled, lips pressing softly into Niall's wrist.
"You're always sleepy, c'mon," Niall dragged Zayn up with Herculean strength.
Zayn yawned, leaning up and stretching. Niall's eyes involuntarily slid down to the exposed sliver of skin flashing under Zayn's raised sweater, and then blushed almost immediately as Zayn touched his face.
"Morning," he said, catching Niall's lips with a soft kiss.
Niall wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, morning breath, Zayn."
Zayn made a pointed poke at Niall's bulging crotch. "At least I don't wake up with morning wood."
"Morning wood," Niall scoffed, but his cheeks were slightly pink. "More like 24-hour erection."
Zayn rolled his eyes, lids still heavy with sleep. Niall reached over and tugged Zayn into him like an oncoming tide, letting their bodies stumble and catch each other. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the crevice of Zayn's collarbone, his tongue dipping down onto the skin, tasting sleep and baby powder and faded body wash.
"We are not," Zayn said, recognizing the hungry look on Niall's face.
"Yes, we are," Niall retorted, wiggling his hips against Zayn's crotch and pulling out a gasp. "Or, well. I am."
"Go jerk yourself off in the shower or something," Zayn said crankily, rubbing his bleary eyes.
"You're always so grumpy in the mornings," Niall pouted. "I just want to make you feel good, is all, no need to snap at me."
"I'm not snapping," Zayn insisted. "But blame it on the lack of caffeine."
"Haven't you got enough addictions already?"
"Yes, and you are one of them," Zayn blew a soft rush of air into Niall's ear, making him shiver.
Niall leaned back, running a palm over the tent in his boxers. "Would you like to watch?"
"Watch what?" Zayn nibbled at Niall's earlobe, sucking on the tender skin softly.
"Watch me jerk myself off," Niall said, continuing to palm himself over the underwear.
Zayn's eyes followed the movement, and he raised his hands. "What are you implying?"
"I'm implying that I bet I can turn you on just by touching myself," Niall grinned.
Zayn looked like he was thinking about something, and then nuzzled his face into Niall's neck, pulling him onto his lap. "Right, go ahead, then."
Niall pulled his prick out, and it rose with hardened blood, curving upwards gracefully. Zayn watched as Niall stroked himself, palms rubbing hot and damp over his erection, face draining as he focused on the sensation that bled through his veins.
"You're a quick one, aren't you," Zayn murmured, smirking as Niall stroked himself furiously. "I read an article somewhere about how the speed of how fast you jack yourself off affects how easily you get hard. It actually explains a lot of things, now that I think about -"
"Shut up," Niall got out through gritted teeth. His fingers were calloused from all the guitar playing, and the rough skin provided a nice type of friction as he groaned, pressing his body back against Zayn's.
"Mhm, stroke it for me," Zayn said, his voice low and rough and all kinds of sexy in Niall's ear.
Niall tried to hide the stiffening of his spine, the anaconda of sensuality that exploded over his body at the sound of Zayn's words. He tried desperately to act like this wasn't all he thought about sometimes, like he wasn't so fucking in love and turned on that he felt ready to throw up.
"Don't go squirting all over my bedsheets, Niall," Zayn growled, playful and filthy and sardonic.
Niall felt the gasp torn out of his lips as he came, ribbons of white lacing the sheets. His face was pale, exhausted, and he was breathing hard, turning to look at Zayn.
Zayn was smiling back, but he looked easy and relaxed, and Niall was supremely disappointed that he hadn't even gotten a little bit hard. There was barely anything poking through his trousers. No boner. No panting. Nothing but a calm smile.
He pouted and got off Zayn, upset that he wasn't good enough to turn him on.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Zayn immediately noticed the sullen change in Niall's mood.
"Nothing," he mumbled, embarrassed.
"C'mon, tell me," Zayn insisted, pulling Niall back toward him by the wrists.
Niall's face was burning. "You didn't get even a little turned on by watching me."
Zayn looked confused, and then laughed a little. "Oh, that's nothing, Niall. It's really not your fault at all. I wasn't watching very well, I was thinking of something else. But I bet if I had been watching, I'd have been hard in less than two seconds. You know how sexy you are, don't you?"
Niall's lower lip jutted out, still hurt.
"Aw, don't pout at me," Zayn softened, pinching Niall's cheeks. "I'll give you something nice tonight, promise. It's just that I'm a little off these days."
"Why are you off?"
Zayn sighed like it should have been obvious. "I'll be leaving you for a whole year. And it just- it makes me upset just thinking about it, and it's hard to get turned on when I'm just wondering how I'll survive without you."
Niall's heart felt like simultaneously sinking and bursting at the same time. "It'll be over before you know it. You'll be home real soon, Zayn. Don't worry about it."
"I'm not worrying," Zayn assured him. "Now go and get yourself showered."
Niall got up and started toward the bathroom.
"Niall, you're not still upset, are you?" Zayn called.
"No, 'course not," Niall lied as he rushed into the bathroom and locked the door.
He WAS upset, honestly. He was upset that Zayn was showing such little interest in sex anymore, upset because it felt like Zayn was showing little interest in HIM. It was strange, because usually even if Zayn pretended to be all virtuous, he'd have given in to a good time with very little hesitation. And today he hadn't even sported a woody at all.
Niall sighed, stripping himself down and getting into the shower, accepting the hot lash of scalding water as a punishment for not being good enough for Zayn this time round.
--