Eleanor drives them all back to the resort and makes sure they all get into bed without getting in trouble or waking any of the guests. Liam only knows this because she recounted the story twice over breakfast while glaring at everyone.
"I'm annoyed at these two," she says, pointing her toast at Harry and Niall, both of whom look like shit. They were all more than a bit hung over, even Liam. "But you, Liam. I'm surprised at you. And a bit--," he waits for the word disappointed, "impressed."
Liam blinks at her. "What?"
She laughs. "I didn't think you had it in you, to be honest. You were smashed, and, if the smell of weed clinging to you was any indication, a bit high, too. You're quite the funny drunk, you know. You explained to a group of about seven guys, who were hanging on your every word, the best way to make their rooms look clean without really cleaning."
Liam groans. "Great."
Harry is the least talkative of them all. He's spent almost all of breakfast pushing around pieces of cereal in a bowl without lifting the spoon to his lips once. It takes Liam a moment to realize that he's not hung over. He's upset.
"What happened to you last night, anyways?" Liam asks, frowning at him.
Harry looks up and blinks at Liam for a few moments before sighing. "I, um, spent most of the night in a closet, actually."
Liam's frown deepens before he asks, "The one to the left of the bathroom?"
"Um." Harry pushes his hair off his face, and his cheeks are red. "Maybe."
"Oh my God," Liam says, shaking his head. He covers his mouth with his hand. If anything could have brightened his mood after last night -- he wants to shudder just thinking about everything that he could remember--, this is possibly it. "You totally--,"
"Shut up," Harry growls. "Don't say it, Liam, I swear to God."
"What?" Niall asks, eyes flicking from Liam to Harry. "Someone tell me what I just missed."
"Last night Harry and--,"
"Liam!" Harry snaps.
Liam grins. "You liked it, didn't you?"
"Shut up," Harry repeats. His cereal becomes extremely interesting after that, apparently, because he refuses to look up from it until everyone's finished eating and has started to clear up.
When Liam goes to leave, Harry gestures for Liam to stay, until they're the only ones left in the room. Liam watches him, waiting.
"He kissed me," Harry says quietly, looking up at Liam with confusion in his eyes. "He kissed me."
Liam grins. "About time, too, if you ask me."
"No, Liam, you don't-- you don't get it. I liked it. I kissed him back."
"Do you want a sticker?"
Harry's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. "I can't deal with this," he says quietly.
"If it makes you feel better," Liam says, equally soft, "I think Zayn and I kissed last night. Sort of. Or not really actually. I'm still pretty fucking confused."
Harry tilts his head up. "You-- what?"
Liam shrugs. "About half a minute after putting his tongue in my mouth, he started making out with someone else, so..."
Harry gives him an incredulous look. "Damn. Bet you're having about as good of a day as I am, then."
Liam shrugs. He was trying really hard not to think about it, to be completely honest. Trying not to remember the way Zayn's lips had felt against his, or the way he'd tasted. Or the manic glint in his eyes, and the way the red paint splattered everywhere, and how he'd pulled that girl in without a second thought for Liam. Without considering that maybe, even though things didn't ever matter him, they might matter to Liam.
"Let's just go to work," Liam says suddenly, getting out of his seat. "For once, I'm actually looking forward to the distraction of making beds and scrubbing windows."
"Never thought I'd ever hear those words," Harry says solemnly. "And the fact that I agree with them just shows how fucked we really are."
--
Weirdly enough, Liam doesn't see Louis again that week. He doesn't come to Liam's surfing lessons the next day, or stop him while he's heading from the main building over to Overlook. He's just-- gone, apparently. But, at the same time, he doesn't see Zayn at all, either.
Going home for the weekend is like finally being able to breath again. Harry ends up staying over both nights, curled up in Liam's bed beside him.
Liam is accustomed to hearing Harry moan on and on about Louis Tomlinson. He usually swears and curses him to hell, though, and now... Liam isn't sure if this is a good thing, or a bad thing, really. He doesn't know if he can handle hearing about the way Louis kisses and tangles his hands in Harry's hair, or about how great his ass felt one more time, because he's almost at his snapping point.
On Monday, when they get to work, they're a bit late again. When they get into the locker room, they're not the only ones late, at least. Liam doesn't recognize the person at the other end of the room with their back turned to him and Harry; not until he turns.
The polo looks good on him. He's got the top two buttons undone, and somehow he pulls off the khakis in a way that Liam had never managed. In fact, he looks less like the scruffy boy with a cigarette constantly dangling from his lips, and more like the son of some rich business man (which he actually is) who's about to spend the weekend at a country club. If you ignore the tattoos, of course.
"What?" Zayn snaps, catching Liam staring at him.
"What're you doing in here?" Harry asks, frowning at him.
"None of your fucking business," Zayn tells him. He pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his locker and puts them on before shouldering past Liam and Harry without another word.
Once the door closes between them, Harry turns to Liam and says, "He does realize we're inside, right?"
Liam ignores him and starts getting dressed. He doesn't want to know why Zayn was not only in the employee locker room, but in the employee uniform, too. Of course, he still does think about it, and he figures he knows exactly why Zayn is here: his parents are punishing him for the party.
He's on room service duty, or so Liam learns not much later. Liam's cleaning rooms in Outlook while Harry continues to watch Louis' sisters. He passes Zayn in the hallway twice, and every time he does, Zayn looks about ready to throw whatever carton of food he has in his hands at Liam's face.
If that's not weird enough, lunch is worse. Zayn sits by himself at one of the picnic tables. Everyone freezes when they see him, and then they carefully avoid his table, even if that means packing eight to a table that only seats six. Zayn notices this, too, and he ends up pushing his food away from him and stomping from the room.
By dinner he doesn't look so good. The shirt seems to hang off him now, and he can tell that Zayn has learnt first hand just how much it sucks to be stuck in the khaki pants all day. His quiff has mostly fallen, too, and he pushes his food around on his plate without looking up at anyone.
Liam sits across from him. Harry shoots him a confused look, as does Niall, but Eleanor takes it in stride and sits down next to Zayn without a word. After a beat Niall and Harry follow, too, and then the room settles back into a semblance of normalcy. Niall and Harry start talking, and Eleanor puts in a few words every now and then.
Liam spends as much time forking meatloaf into his mouth as he does watching Zayn. Finally, after what feels like hours, Zayn lifts his eyes to Liam and says, "Don't look at me like you feel bad for me, Wonderboy."
Liam fumbles out the words, "I- I'm not."
"Oh, so then this isn't a fucking pity party."
"Don't talk to him like that," Harry says loudly.
Zayn raises his eyebrows and levels Harry with a look that would have had Liam sinking back in his seat, but only makes Harry straighten up more. "I think you're forgetting who I am," Zayn says slowly.
"Oh, and who's that? Because from where I'm sitting you look just like one of us," Harry replies, smiling sweetly at him.
Zayn looks down at the polo shirt and the khakis he's wearing. "This is so bullshit," he huffs, standing up.
"See you at work tomorrow, Zayn!" Harry calls after him as he storms from the room.
"That wasn't very smart," Liam says instantly.
Harry shrugs. "He can get me fired for all I care. I'm not sitting there and watching him treat you like shit after you went out of your way to be nice to him."
"It's not like he asked me to," Liam points out, frowning down at his meatloaf. It doesn't seem appetising at all anymore. "I mean, honestly, are any of us really surprised by that?"
"No," Niall says first.
"Knew it was a bad idea the moment I sat down," Eleanor puts in.
Harry shakes his head, looking at the three of them in turn. "Doesn't make it okay. And you need to stop giving him the benefit of the doubt, Liam. I know that you're-- friends or whatever with Louis now, and maybe he isn't just some asshole who orders us all around. But not everyone--,"
"Is hiding a nice person inside of them," Liam finishes for him. "Yeah, I think I got that, thanks."
"Just making sure," Harry says.
"The thing is," Liam says, frowning down at his food, "I don't see why his behaviour has to effect mine. If he wants to be an asshole, he can be an asshole. But I'm not, and I'm not going to turn into one just because he snaps at me, or narrows his eyes, or talks down to me."
Harry stares steadily at him for a moment and then, without a word, he nods his head, just once. He doesn't have to say anything, Liam gets it. He's going to back off. If Liam wants to get treated like garbage, Harry isn't going to make him feel worse for it anymore.
"That," Niall says suddenly, "was some deep shit. Seriously, El, you got a pen? We should right that down."
Eleanor's ignoring him, though. She's giving Liam the same look she gave Harry, but her lips are tightly pursed. "I'm still ordered to give you the pool keys tomorrow," she tells him.
Liam's surprised. He figured that, given the party, Zayn's dad would have cancelled that. Or, also because of what happened at the party, Zayn would have cancelled that.
Instead of voicing any of this, though, he asks, "Does everyone know? Am I that bad at keeping a secret?"
"Pretty much," Niall says brightly.
"Oh, shut up," Eleanor says to him, laughing. "You were the one who told me."
"Oh yeah," Niall remembers.
"I don't know why I'm friends with any of you," Liam says as he stabs his fork into his meatloaf.
"Same reason we're friend with you," Harry says, throwing an arm over Liam's shoulder. "We all need each other."
Niall grunts his agreement, Eleanor nods her head, and Liam leans into Harry, because he's sort of right, even if he is an idiot.
--