Archive of Our Own

Liam blinks a bead of sweat from his lashes and focuses on #27 of the opposing team—their rivals and biggest competition. Winning this game would put them four wins ahead of them in the leader boards, losing would bring the other team that much closer to catching up with them. 

He couldn’t let that happen—the Rovers would never let that happen, not in their house.

The score was currently tied at one each, with mere seconds remaining, and Liam knew the crowd expected them to take the tie and call it a day. Hell, coach even gave them the sign to let the time roll down but that wasn’t good enough for Liam. Why settle for a tie when he knew in his bones that the Rovers could do better’n that, that they were better’n that. Gesturing to get Hood’s attention, he nodded once, knowing his team mate would know that meant he was going for it, sure he’d hear it later from coach for disobeying, but if he managed to score he’d be a hero, and that thought was just too tempting to pass up.

The ref’s whistle blew, putting the ball in play, and just as planned Calum gained possession of the ball and spiked it right at him, there was a second where he feared #27 would get to it first and ruin everything but as fast as he was, Liam was faster and easily took control of the ball, dribbling it within shooting distance. He could hear the crowd going wild, could hear his team mate Samuels shouting ‘get it, Payno’. He could even hear coach screaming his displeasure at the sidelines, but he pushed all of that out of his head and concentrated on that moment.

Everything around him slowed down, his heart hammering in his ears, breath coming out heavy and haggard—it had been a tough outing and he meant for them to leave the stadium victoriously.

His vision went tunnel as he lined his foot up with the ball, knowing there wasn’t much time he drew his foot back and jammed the ball towards the goal and watched as the keeper dodged after it, coming within a finger of it as the ball hit the net.

A stunned silence fell over the stadium as the buzzer went off and all at once the entire place erupted, with cheers and boos alike, red and white scarves being waved like mad. Liam was immediately surrounded by his teammates as they rushed him, trying to raise him up onto their shoulders but he fought them off, not wanting to show poor sportsmanship, and instead accepted their pats on his back and shoulders, returning their smiles before jogging over to the ref along with the other team’s captain to thank him for the game.

“Lucky shot number eight.” Liam froze on his way down the tunnel headed for the locker rooms at the familiar voice and fought not to look up, not to be baited. “Nothin’ but pure luck that goal was! Me little sister in peewee coulda done that wit ‘er eyes closed, yer still rubbish.”

Liam bit the inside of his cheek and forced a fake smile onto his face as he waved blindly at the opinionated fan. “Thank you—thanks for coming out to watch.” He said as usual, always one for turning the other cheek rather than get into it with a fan, which in this case was even more satisfying since he knew how much it ruffled this particular fan’s feathers more than any mean-spirited jab he could fire back ever would.

***

Louis growled, kicking at a mostly empty bag of popcorn some lazy sod had left in the stands instead of walking the few feet to the rubbish bin. Zayn didn’t even look up from his sketchpad until Louis had dropped heavily back into the seat beside him.

“Another lover’s quarrel?” He teased, still working on getting his shading just right.

Louis' upper lip curled. “Piss off, mate—he didn’t even acknowledge me, just thanked me for coming to the game, the wanker.” He spat, kicking at the back of the seat in front of him and crossing his arms huffily.

Finally setting his book and pencil aside, Zayn nudged Louis' shoulder with his own until blue eyes met his. “Look, I know I’m no expert on the matter, but I think you might be going about this the wrong way, teasing and being mean to the boy you like might’ve worked back when we were eight but here in the adult world, that’s called being a dick.”

Louis sputtered, arms flailing around in outrage.

“I do not like him. Jesus Christ, Zayn. I find him mildly attractive at best and then there’s the fact that he’s got those, um, things on his arms that look quite nice when he’s all sweaty.”

“Muscles?”

“Yeah those, they’re a bit of alright, but It’s just a harmless crush. He’s a professional footballer, for god sakes, and I’m just a spectator…it’s the same way I feel about Ed Sheeran and bloody Hugh Jackman. I know it would never happen! I don’t say the shit that I do because I like him, it’s quite the opposite, and actually, I can’t stand him. He’s so much better than he’s been playing out there! Certainly not at team captain caliber! If anything I’m trying to unlock his full potential.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing? By calling him a club footed otter in a training bra?” Zayn quoted verbatim with an arched eyebrow.

Louis refused to be embarrassed and simply shrugged.

“Who am I to judge what may or may not inspire someone to give it their best?”

“Whatever you say, Tommo.” He laughed, stuffing his sketchpad into his satchel and standing. “Post game pints at Bressie’s then?”

“Always, I’ll text Harry to meet us there.”

***

“Weeee are the cham-pee-yuns my freeens and weee’ll keep on fightin’ teeel thee ennnn!!! Weeee are the—oi!” Niall cut off from his terrible Queen cover, frowning as he rubbed at his cheek where the roll of medical tape Liam threw at him had hit.

“Mate, how many drinks have you had?” Liam asked, already knowing the answer would be close to six or eight, depending on how much money Niall had brought with him, having caught his mate double-fisting pints on more than one occasion during the game, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for the Irishman.

“Four maybe five. I’m fine, Payno, just beyond buzzed that we beat the pants off them smug bastards today.” He was fidgeting in his seat on the wooden bench with restless energy from the game, something that tended to get on the guys’ nerves a bit, as all they wanted to do was wind down and relax after a match. But luckily they were currently the only ones left in the room and Liam was more than willing to indulge his friend.

“Mmhm, didn’t realize it was you who was out there getting tackled and shoved about.” He teased with a smirk, knowing what was coming next, and as if on cue the blonde whirled around to face Liam, who was all but changed by now and glowered.

“Could do,” Niall insisted, sticking his chest out. “If I wasn’t needed more for my voice and this face.” He waved a hand at his own mug as if to prove a point. “If it wasn’t what puts food on the table.” Liam hummed again because he knew it was true, Niall was the star of a children’s program on the CBBC called Nialler & friends, where he played guitar and sang with various puppet characters the most popular being a sloth in a gray paddy hat named Salomon.

“What about that dodgy knee of yers?” He pointed out, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing his smelly jersey into the laundry bin, watching as the blonde’s face screwed up in disgust at the reminder.

“Yeah I reckon that too.” He admitted, kicking a nearby football in frustration, and sending it skittering clear across the room.

Niall was the only non-team member allowed in the locker rooms, being Liam’s best mate since they were ten. He was a diehard Rovers fan and never missed a game, but that wasn’t even why he was allowed in the exclusive area. He was allowed in because he’d somehow charmed their coach, impressing him with his vast knowledge on the history of the team - he was a third generation fan, after all, his father having followed the club all the way from Mullingar as did his father before him, so naturally Niall had taken up supporting the team as well - and somehow had wriggled his way under their coaches skin enough that he barely batted an eyelash now when he caught Niall wandering around where he oughtn’t be.

“So what’re your plans for the night then? You hungry?” Niall shot him a look that clearly said how much of an idiot he thought Liam was.

“What kind of shit question is that? ‘Course I’m hungry…but I was thinking we could go out for a few beers to celebrate tonight’s slaughtering.”

Liam shook his head. “I’d hardly call it a slaughtering—“

“Nonsense, I ain’t taken no fer an answer. We can slip into that sports pub just around the way… Bestys?”

“Do you mean Bressie’s?” Niall snapped his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one! Proper fan of the team, isn’t he? Could probably get us a few free drinks and a couple pub burgers...”

“We will do no such thing; you know how I feel about accepting free stuff just because I’m a Rover.”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “Oh do I, s’bloody annoying as fuck, that is. Out of all the footballers for me to choose as me best mate, I had to go and pick the one with morals and a heart of gold.”

“You know you love me.” Liam said through puckered lips, reaching out to pinch the other boy’s cheek.

“Eh, I don’t know if I’d go that far.” Niall defied, slapping Liam’s hand away.

Not one to be discouraged, Liam pounced, attacking the slighter boy with wiggling fingers. “Alright, uncle…fuck, I said uncle, damnit!!!” Niall wheezed, batting at Liam’s relentless hands.

“That’s not what I’m waiting to hear…” Liam huffed out through his own laughter at how red the blonde was turning, and doubled his efforts.

“Bloody hell, I love you, ya happy? Now get off me, ya oaf!” Satisfied, Liam sat back with a grin, smoothing down a hair that had gotten misplaced on the blonde’s head.

“Ecstatic, but alright we can go to Bressie’s for a couple drinks but that’s it, I’ve got to be up tomorrow bright and early for training, unlike some people.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, Payno; got a pint that’s calling me name.” He called over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.

***

For as long as he can remember, Louis has loved football, Doncaster football in particular. It was one of the only things he and his step dad Mark used to do together that was just them—growing up in a house that was predominantly female, it was sort of tough carving out time for just the lads.

So Mark started taking him to matches and it quickly became their thing and Louis absolutely loved it, he was never more alive than when he was rooting for his beloved Rovers with his dad by his side. Things changed when his mum and Mark divorced and his dad had less and less time to meet up with him for a weekend series or even a day game, claiming he’d had to pick up extra shifts a work to pay child support. He hadn’t disappeared from Louis and girls’ life completely, he called loads and had a visit when he could; it was just their lads’ time that seemed to suffer.

Not one to let something like that get him down, Louis began going to matches with his childhood mates - who’d all been on the peewee team when they were younger - Stan, Oli, Calvin and them, but one by one they left him as well, fucking off to different universities all over Britain.

Once that happened he contemplated attending games on his own, but felt a bit pathetic so he collected a few mates through his various failed attempts to keep a job. He found Zayn at the coffee shop he’d worked at for a whopping two months before getting sacked for making shite coffee and sweeping dirt under the rugs, rather than into the dustbin. Zayn hadn’t lasted much longer himself, but unlike Louis, he’d resigned to take this internship at a local art gallery that his art professor hooked him up with, but whatever. Louis refused to let Zayn shake him.

Then he’d run into Harry at the fitness center around the corner from his flat…he hadn’t actually been working or working out, he’d been coming out after dropping off his job application that he knew he wouldn’t be hearing back from and Harry had been making his way up the stairs and tripped over his own clown shoes, and would’ve brained himself on the banister if Louis didn’t have such awesome reflexes. Harry had been so grateful that he insisted on exchanging numbers so that he could buy Louis dinner and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

It wasn’t until after dinner when they were back at Louis' flat drinking cheap beer and watching an old episode of Celebrity Big Brother that Harry confessed he’d been trying to pull him, Louis took the mick out of him proper for that, twisting his nipple near off until he admitted that he didn’t in fact fancy him.

The three of them had been best mates ever since, but unfortunately, neither of them liked football as much as Louis, but they were more than willing to humor him, accompanying him to matches so long as he didn’t mind them sketching (Zayn) and paying more attention to their mobile than the actual game (Harry). It was a fair trade, all things considered.

They were sat around a booth ignoring a group of over-gelled douche bags, who kept grumbling about the three of them wasting half the table, as he recapped the game for Harry.

“Picture this, there’s less than a minute left on the clock, mere seconds to go, and everyone is thinking go for the tie. Not even a complete idiot would risk the other team gaining possession and scoring, but then our captain is not just any idiot, is he? No sir, he and #35, Hood, the two of them do that thing they’re known for, what makes them such a great teammates communicating with just their eyes and next thing ya know, Payne’s got the ball and is drilling fer goal.”

“Well, did it pay off? Did he make it?”

“Oh he made it all right, but just barely, just an inch further to the left and their keeper would’ve had it, was a lucky shot, is all.”

“I guess I don’t see the problem here then, he made the shot, won us the game, so why have you been moaning about him for the last half hour?”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Because it’s Liam Payne, Haz, you should know at this point, it’s not even about the game anymore, he’s just finding reasons to talk about him because he fancies ‘im.” Louis squawked in outrage.

“For the love of all that is holy, for the last time, I do not fancy him. I’m just t’d off that he’s being so reckless with our record, is all. We’re in first place at the mo, somewhere we haven’t been in a long while, so I take it a bit personal when he makes these risky moves that threaten the team’s standings, is all, nothing more.” Harry tilts his head in amusement looking like he doesn’t believe a word Louis’ just said and grins.

“Lou-ee, why didn’t you tell me you fancied, Liam? Good show, mate, he’s quite fit, you know. Thought about fancying him myself after he dated Grimmy a while back.”

“He dated Grimmy? What? You mean from the radio?” Zayn asked, looking up from his drink with interest.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it was after he broke up with Sophia Smith, the fashion model. She was caught cheating on him with Matt Healy of the 1975 and called it quits for good, he went under the radar for a bit, that’s why we hadn’t hear anything about him for most of last year. But then he reappears on Grimmy’s arm and comes out as bisexual shortly after…I can’t believe you don’t know all this already, Zayn, I know we joke about you living under a rock, but come on!”

“Sorry if I don’t follow all the celebrity gossip like you do.”

“Hmm, well I can’t help it if I overhear things at the gym, the ladies in my yoga class are constantly nattering about summat—it’s a regular hen house, so I pick up things.”

“Right, it wouldn’t have anything to do with our subscription to The Sun?”

“Oh sod off.”

“I. Do not. Fancy. Liam Payne.” Louis growled out of nowhere, interrupting his friends’ bickering causing them to blink slowly at him.

“Um, ok. I thought we’d already gone passed that but alright. I’ve already said it’s cool if you did…I mean, no one would blame you, he’s quite fit and sought after by many, but if you say you don’t, then you don’t, right, Zayn?” The darker man made a noncommittal noise before taking a generous sip of his vodka sprite.

“He’s just alright, is the thing.” Louis continued, speaking flippantly. “Like, he’s easy on the eyes and he’s a subpar athlete, but I bet underneath it all he’s a first class prat.”

Harry tapped his chin in thought, using his other hand to fish the cherry from the bottom of his empty glass. “I don’t know, he does an awful lot of charity work in his free time…”

Louis narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a bit. “Does he really, or do his people just send a big fat check to show good faith while he fucks off to Ibiza with some young twink?” Harry’s face lighted up, making an aha! noise as he held up his cherry before popping it into his mouth, to Louis he rolled his eyes.

“Dude, that was literally one time, and he didn’t go there with the young lad, he went there with his friend…you know the cute blonde Irish bloke who goes to every single Rovers game. While there he met the lad and was basically stalked by the paparazzi for the remainder of the trip.”

Louis shrugged as though that bit of information was neither here nor there. “I’m just saying, what kind of role model is he supposed to be for young footballers such as me sisters?”

Zayn cleared his throat. “Speaking of your sisters, isn’t he single handedly responsible for starting that young Donny boys and girls peewee team the twins are now a part of?”

“Yes.” Louis muttered grudgingly. “But does he ever show up to actually mentor them? No. I’m just saying the girls might like to have a sit down with him to pick his brain a bit, is all.” Louis went to throwhis arms up, then thought better of it and slammed his fists on the tabletop instead.

“Is that right—the girls would like to do that?” Zayn asked, doing that annoyingly attractive thing where he runs his knuckles over the scruff of his chin, looking far too amused for Louis' liking.

“S’what I said.” Louis sniffed, raising his chin, as if daring either of them to argue.

But all Zayn did was smile smugly, nodding his head once. “Uh huh, well, in case it wasn’t them but you—I think you might get your chance.”

“What’re you—“ Louis trailed off, turning to follow Zayn’s eye line, ignoring Harry’s snickers at how wide his eyes must’ve gone as he spots none other than Liam bloody Payne waltzing through the doors. “Fuck me.”

Harry clucks his tongue. “Think you ought to at least offer to buy him a drink first, I mean really, Lou…” Louis throws him a withering look.

“Haz, you know how we’re always saying how not funny ya are?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Still true.” Harry pouts, grumbling to himself something about ‘Louis not meaning it’ and ‘being cranky because he needed to get laid’, which Louis dutifully ignores and instead watches Liam walk across the room towards the bar. His movements so smooth and languid, almost as though he were gliding, while a smaller lad that was never too far behind stumbled after him, hopping onto a recently vacated stool and bellowing something that Louis wasn’t even sure was proper English at the bartender who shouted something equally intelligible back.

Whatever it was it made the blonde throw his head back and laugh, the sound so loud and happy it could be heard easily, even from where Louis sat.

Liam stood there content just to watch the two men interact, his face the picture of fond. The blonde says something to make Bressie chuckle and glance over at Liam, then do a double take when he realizes who he actually is and just about clamors over the bar to shake the footballer’s hand.

To Louis' utter dismay Liam blushes—actually turns red under the attention, as a few other blokes sat at the bar turn to pay him mind, no doubt congratulating him on a job well done on today’s game. One man even moves down a seat so Liam can sit with his mate.

The place is surprisingly busy for a Wednesday, but not obnoxiously so. Mostly regulars come in after the game or stop by for a pint right out of work before they head home, so Louis isn’t really surprised there isn’t a bigger fuss over a star athlete’s presence, even one as well known as the Rover’s captain.

“So, ya gonna go ask him to be the father of your babies or what?” Dragging his eyes away from Liam to scowl at Harry, Louis held up his left pointer finger.

“First of all, piss off.” He let another finger uncurl to join his pointer. “And secondly, you do not want me to go over there because if I do, it won’t not be to fawn over him like everyone else in this place. I’d be more likely to give ’im a piece of my mind…maybe show him a few tips on how the games really ‘sposta be played.”

Zayn snorts unceremoniously into his drink. “Like you don’t already do that during every game,” at the same time Harry scoffed looking wholly unimpressed. “I’d love to see that.”

“Like he can hear me over the fervent cheers of his disciples.” Louis cried out incredulously then remembered where he was, and curled into himself, trying to hide in case Liam looked their way. “What?” He said to Harry, distracted.

“I’d love to see you do it, actually put your money where your mouth is.”

Sitting up tall once more, Louis tried to look intimidating as he fixed Harry with a steely glare. “You think I won’t?” Harry shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing.

“I’ll pay your entire tab tonight if you do.” Louis seemed to think this over for a moment before finally letting out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t know…might get meself clocked in the mouth, you know how I am once I get goin’, don’t know how to bite me tongue.” He reminded, because it was true, he was notorious for needlessly starting trouble. But Harry it seemed wasn’t concerned about his friend’s reputation, as he further provoked him.

“Come on, Lou…I dare you.” Louis' eyes narrowed because Harry knew his weakness for dares and how he’d never turn one down, not once in his entire twenty-three years.

“You’ll pay my whole tab, no matter if I start ordering off the top shelf just cos?” He asked with a challenging eyebrow.

Harry didn’t flinch.

“Well, if you want to be a dick and do that, then sure, I’ll still pay every cent.”

“Yer on then, mate.” He cackled evilly, sticking his hand out for Harry to shake then drew it back at the last minute as another thought occurred. “Wait, what do you get if you win?”

Harry shrugged a lazy shoulder as he swiped his finger through a puddle on the table made from the condensation of his glass. “I’d be satisfied with just the knowledge that you’d wussed out.”

Satisfied with the stakes Louis threw his hand out again. “Alright, put it there then, seal the deal proper like.” Harry rolled his eyes but took the proffered hand for a quick shake.

***

Liam couldn’t believe it.

He’s been a Rover for coming up on two years and he’s never set foot in Bressie’s before, granted he wasn’t really a drinking man, not only because he was an athlete - his body was a temple and all that - but because for a good portion of his life, he’d only had one fully functional kidney and hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter. He couldn’t afford to sneak a beer out the fridge when his parents weren’t looking like his mates or grab himself a solo cup filled with jungle juice at a party.

You can imagine this didn’t make him very popular around school, most people thought he was lame and he probably wouldn’t have made any friends at all if it hadn’t been for football. Well, except for Niall, they’d been friends ever since they were ten and Liam traded his bag of crisps for the then not-so-blonde’s peach yogurt, thus forging a lifelong bond. Niall was easy that way.

The pub was nice though, had a sort of homey feel to it and Niall hadn’t been kidding about the owner being a supporter of the team. All around the place there was Rovers’ memorabilia mounted on the wall or displayed on a shelf, the back wall even had a couple of pictures and autographed napkins from former players, and best of all, no one treated him any differently than a regular patron—sure a few people clapped him on the back and congratulated him on his goal, but after that they just went back to their own business and left him to his, no fuss.

“We’ll start off with pints and work our way up to the harder stuff or did ya want to splurge on a little bubbly?” Niall asked, him and Bressie looking to Liam expectantly.

“Nah, beers fine.”

“Bottles or from the tap?” The bartender asked already grabbing up two glasses.

“Whatever you’ve got on tap’s good, ta.”

“You got it, chief.”

Drumming his fingers against the bar Niall gave Liam’s downtrodden form a once over and sighed. “So what’s got you down, Li, we’re meant to be celebrating and you look like someone’s just told you Jay-Z is retiring from the rap game.” That at least got a small laugh out of the older boy before he went right back to sulking.

“No, m’fine.”

 “Hmm, that almost sounded convincing, care to try again?” Niall said, just as Bressie set two beers down in front of them and nodded his thanks to the fellow Irishman.

“It’s really nothing, just…well, you know that fan.” Niall groaned into his beer, pulling the glass away from his mouth before he could take his first pull.

“Oh brother, not the fan again.”

Liam shrugged his own beer sitting untouched on the bar. “He said some things today.”

“Yeah and every day, don’t think he misses a game and the bloke can’t shut his gob to save his life.” The blonde pointed out, finally taking a healthy gulp of his drink.

“Yes but it’s what he said today that I can’t shake.”

“What about you being a bit slow in the first half? He may have been on to something there…” He reasoned, wiping beer foam from his upper lip.

Liam’s brow wrinkled as he made an offended noise. “Hey, you’re not meant to agree with him.”

“And I don’t. Not with everything at least, like when he called you a prickless ponce or a fugly garden gnome that can’t tell his left from his right. That’s obviously rubbish, but I mean, you do hesitate way too much out there, Payno, instead of going with yer gut and trusting that god given instinct of yours that made you captain.”

“I know, it’s just there’s a lot more riding on me this year after winning the cup for the team last year. There’s so much pressure to repeat, but the difference is that last year I still had Soph…she was my lucky charm and now I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it without her.”

“That’s shite and you know it, she was toxic Liam right from the start. I warned ya, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Told ya, a girl that turns you down not once but sixteen times when you were nobody but comes around acting all starry-eyed once you signed with the team was no good.”

“You did.” Liam repeated, nodding obediently.

“Look, we won last year because of you and your fine leadership, steering them boys to victory and you’ll do it again this year mate. I have faith in ya, and I’m not the only one, so cut yerself some slack and maybe look around see if anyone strikes yer fancy…lord knows you could use a bit of a tumble to ease some of that stress yer under.”

Liam couldn’t help but laugh at the thought scanning the bar which was filled with mostly middle aged men save for a few older women back by the pool tables, a couple chavs hanging around the jukebox and a group of uni aged blokes sat in a booth who looked oddly familiar…

Liam stilled.

“Oh god.”

“What’s wron—no way, is that who I think it is?” Niall asked, looking to see what had Liam acting off all of a sudden and couldn’t help but crow in delight at what he found. “That’s him, innit…the fan? This is brilliant, now you can just shag him and relieve some of that sexual tension between the two of you.”

Liam sputtered in protest. “There is no sexual—are you mad? He can’t stand me and I’m not too fond of him either, if I’m being honest.”

“Now is that anyway to speak of a fan?” Niall asked, tilting his head in amusement.

“He is no fan of mine, I assure you.”

“Not bad to look at, though, you could definitely do worse.” He mused, as he gave the boy in question the once over. Liam, who’d turned back to the bar, refused to do the same, finally bringing his beer up to his mouth.

“Eh I suppose if you went for the type.” He divulged before taking a tentative sip.

“Oh yeah, and what type is that?” The blonde pressed, with a knowing grin that went ignored as Liam simply shrugged.

“Dunno, Peter Pan?”

“Wey hey, Liam’s got jokes.” Niall whooped, merrily clapping him on the shoulder.

“Shut up, I just meant there’s something pixie-like about him.”

“What as in Lott? I don’t see it, looks more like Frankie from the Saturdays to me…”

“No not the singer, I mean the actual mystical creature pixies.”

“Oh uh, in that case yeah I guess I can see it, you could still do a lot worse.”

Liam rolled his eyes, setting his beer back down on the bar top and turning sideways on the stool to face him. “I’m not doing anything because I’m not here to pull, we came for a few celebratory drinks and then we’re calling it a night.”

Niall let out a whiney noise from the back of his throat. “Come on, Li, live a little…how about one of his mates, then? The lanky one with the curls and half his chest out, if Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom had a baby it would look just like him…or how about—Jaysus.”

“How about what?” Liam asked, out of curiosity if nothing else.

“His other mate is literally an angel dropped down from heaven, just look at that face…I’m never blinking again…is looking like that even legal?”

“Now who’s the one who needs to get laid?” Liam snickered, causing Niall’s hand to shoot out and catch him in the back of his head.

“Piss off and drink up, we’re going over there once we finish these beers.”

“I’m not going anywhere. If you wanna go meet Mr. Tall, dark, and gorgeous, be my guest. I’ll just wait for you right here.”

Liam expects Niall to put up more of a fight but instead the blonde’s entire demeanor changes in an instant, as a suspicious smile finds its way on his face. “Is that right, you’re not moving from that stool, for the rest of the night then?”

“Nope consider my butt glued.”

“Cool, that’s just what I wanted to hear.” Niall says, with a pat to Liam’s knee but before Liam can ask what he means by that, someone sidles up to his right and without even turning he knows who it is.

“Hey there number eight.”

Liam squeezes his eyes closed and thinks here we go and braces himself.

***

Louis watches Liam physically tense up at the sound of his voice. He hasn’t even turned to face him yet and he’s already preparing for battle, which is smart because Louis' got plenty of words for him too, words on his lack of strategy, words about his poor leadership skills and recklessness, words that would wound so deeply they’d have the other man curling up on the floor in a ball of tears and regret that he ever decided to set foot in this pub tonight. Oh Louis had words, words that he’s been saving up for two football seasons now and now that he had his chance to actually use them, there was no telling what he’d say.

Liam slowly turns on his stool to face him.

Louis opens his mouth to speak and the words come spilling out before he has a chance to stop or properly form them:

“Can I buy you a drink?”

***

To say he was surprised would be an understatement, as he sat staring at the slighter man in stunned silence. He’d been expecting some kind of tongue lashing, figured the fan would seize the chance to really let him have it. No holds barred now that there was no locker room for Liam to duck into to hide, nothing standing between them to stop him from giving Liam the verbal evisceration he’s probably been dying to give him since he was named team captain last year.

But instead, he offered to buy him a drink.

Liam paused for the punch line, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because surely that couldn’t be it; the fan had to have something more in store for him. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, the smaller man began to fidget under the weight of Liam’s gaze, nervously chewing on the corner of his mouth and he started to think that maybe this guy was serious. At his other side Niall not so subtlety coughed to cover a laugh.

“Pardon?”

“I asked if I could buy you a drink—in honor of today’s win?” Liam felt a bit numb. He thinks he might’ve nodded but he couldn’t be sure, as his eyes flick down to his mostly full glass. The fan’s eyes do the same and it might’ve been Liam’s imagination that his cheeks began to redden, though his confident expression never wavered.

“Uh sure? That would be great, thanks.” As he spoke he brought his glass up to his mouth and practically downed it in one go, ignoring Niall’s snort when a bit leaked out the corner of his mouth to leave a sticky trail down his neck.

“Another of the same—two?” He asked, gesturing to Niall’s empty glass as well, making the blonde grin.

“Cheers mate.” Niall beamed, absently tossing Liam a napkin for his neck.

Liam watched as the man waved Bressie over to give him his order and telling him to add them to his tab, rocking on his heels a bit to a tune only he heard as he waited. When Bressie sat the fresh beers down in front of them, the fan gifted them with a blinding smile that looked too genuine to be faked, giving them each a friendly slap on the back.

“There ya go boys…the name’s Louis, by the way.” Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, he shrugged. “Figured after two years you at least deserve to know the name of the bloke who’s been insultin’ ya.”

“Aces, I’m Niall and I think you know Liam a bit?”

Louis rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah I might’ve heard his name and number being announced once or twice.” He joked and the two shared a smile that made something unsettling grow in the pit of Liam’s stomach. “Drink up.” He tells them flashing Liam another sharp smile that reminded him of some kind of predator eyeing its prey.

Focusing his attention on his drink, Liam stared at it inquisitively before bringing it up to his nose for a cautious sniff, as if Louis had made it himself or had somehow found a way of tampering with it in the few seconds it’s been sitting there.

“What’re you doing, mate?” Niall laughed, having already downed half his new pint in one go.

“Checking for poison.” Liam muttered without thinking, and then froze when he realized he’d said that bit out loud, but again Louis threw him off by simply chuckling.

“Though I certainly appreciate your faith in my abilities as a provocateur, I assure you everything is on the up and up.” Liam has to bite his tongue to keep from reminding Louis that he was more or less a stranger and that his word didn’t hold much weight in Liam’s eyes. Instead he tips his glass ad takes a generous pull.

Louis watches him in silence before sucking in a quick breath. “I don’t mean to sound presumptuous but if you’re looking to party I’m here with a couple of mates and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Party?”

“Hmm yeah drinkin, gabbin, takin the mick out of each other…a proper lad’s night.”

“Wicked, I’m down how about it, Li? Beats just sittin’ here with our thumbs up our arses.”

“Speak for yourself! I am not—” He protests, making a show of waggling both his thumbs, which were clearly not up his arse.

“It’s an expression, Liam, means we weren’t doing much of anything, and going over to sit with Lou’s mates there sounds like a time.”

Liam relaxes, putting his thumbs away. “I’m sure I’ve never heard that expression before in my life, but alright, I guess we really didn’t have much all planned for the evening and I do love meeting fans…”

“Fans, uh yeah, that’s my mates, alright.” Louis agreed weakly. There was something odd about the way he said it, or the way he refused to meet Liam’s eyes that Liam didn’t care for.

“It’s settled then, let’s grab our stuff and mosey.” Liam only hesitates a beat, just enough time to decide not to take the piss out of his mate for using the word mosey. Louis on the other hand had no such qualms as he threw his head back and cackled: Mosey? Alright there cowboy, lets mosey on over there and wrassle us up some cowpoke, shall we?

***

Louis led the two over to his table, rolling his eyes as he witnessed his mates scramble to look away, as though they weren’t just watching the entire interaction—though in Zayn’s defense, it didn’t take much scrambling because he hadn’t really been watching if the detailed caricature doodle of Harry holding some kind of ladies drink with his pinky out that he’d drawn on the napkin in front of him was anything to go by. As it was, Harry was doing a piss poor job of pretending to be engrossed in the whole drawing process.

Feigning surprise Harry looks up at their approach. “Loueh! Who’re your friends? I thought you’d gone to get us drinks not twinks, though you won’t hear me complaining.” He finished with an eyebrow waggle and a wink.

“Right, well I’m sure you all know Liam Payne, star forward for the Rovers and this is his mate Ni—”

“Niall Horan! Of Nialler & friends, I’ve a girl at work whose two year old just loves you…I’d ask for an autograph for her but what’s she gonna do with it, right?”

“Maybe we can do a video on yer phone then and you can play it for her?”

“Brilliant! Lux is going to freak when she sees it!” The curly lad squeals, already reaching into his jeans for his mobile.

“Did I miss something here?” Louis asks, head moving between Harry and Niall and back again in confusion.

“Niall’s got this tv show he’s on, it’s a children’s show with singing puppets, you’ve probably never heard of it...” Liam explained but was cut off by the quiet beauty Louis introduced as Zayn.

“Course we have…it’s pretty trippy after we’ve shared a spliff.” Niall tsks turning to the darker man.

“Don’t know how I feel about ya watching me show high.” He says with a stern look, going so far as to put his hands on his hips in mock disapproval.

Zayn however looked completely unaffected, smiling in this devastatingly handsome way with his tongue curled behind his teeth. “Is that right, Nialler?” A shiver passes through the blonde at the way Zayn rolls the ‘r’.

“Here Lou, you can hold the camera so I can be in it too.” Harry demands and practically shoves his phone at Louis before the other boy can agree, sliding out of the booth to stand beside the blonde and throws an arm around him, effectively shaking Niall from the temporary trance Zayn’s put him in.

“Bloody hell, alright.” Louis grumbled, opening the camera function on Harry’s phone.

“Uh, what did you want me to say again?” The blonde asked, still a bit shaken

“Whatever you want…her name’s Lux, just hearing you say her name is going to drive her mad, so anything really.”

“Could sing a bit of her favorite song.”

“Mate that would be perfect.”

“Cool, and uh what would her favorite song be again?”

“Oh…she loves the one about the bear and the honey bee.”

“Can I press record now or?” Louis asked, tapping his foot impatiently. Liam took this time to slide into Harry’s vacated seat.

“Yeah go on Lou…” With that Louis pointed the camera at Harry’s grinning face and his record.

“Hiiii Luxxy girl look who uncle Harry’s run into!!!” Harry gestured for Niall to take over, so the blonde cleared his throat and flashed the camera his brightest smile, wiggling his fingers at the lens.

“Hey there, Lux, I heard you’re a big fan of Nialler & friends and that’s great news because we’re big fans of you too!!! So in honor of our friendship I thought I’d sing your favorite tune for you.” Niall licked his lips to wet them, sparing a quick glance to Zayn, who’d long since returned his attention to his doodling before opening his mouth and singing about a bear and a bee that learn the importance of sharing through a jar of honey.

 It isn’t until the end of the song that Liam realizes Zayn had been idly humming along with him the entire time, without looking up from his drawing.

“That was perfect Niall, she’s going to go bananas over this video. I’m going to be a superhero in her eyes for ages…you’re really good with children, you know there’s nothing sexier than a man who gets on with kids.” Harry informed, his voice dropping a few octaves as he ran a hand up and down Niall’s arm making the blonde chuckle uneasily.

“Oh, well, can’t honestly say that was a factor in me taking the job but I suppose it’s good to know.” He joked, hoping to ease some of the tension between them but it only seemed to encourage Harry more.

Setting Harry’s phone down on the table Louis scooted into the booth beside Liam and demanded Harry go order them all a round of shots.

Dragging his attention from Niall took some effort but Harry finally managed to mock glare at the slighter man.

“What’s your poison?”

“Surprise me.”

“You’ll be sorry you said that.” Zayn muttered out the corner of his mouth but it was too late, Harry was already halfway across the room.

“Hush you, what’s the worse he could do?” At this Zayn actually looks up from his drawing to raise a single eyebrow.

“This is Harry we’re talking about.”

“Oh right.” Reaching over Liam, Louis rubbed his hand over Zayn’s buzzed hair. “Oh mighty Buddha please protect us from potential alcohol poisoning at the hand of our dear Hazza.”

Zayn growled, shoving Louis' hand away. “Fuck off, besides yer supposed to rub the Buddha’s belly, ya eejit.” Louis moved to do just that but his hand was promptly slapped away by his unamused friend, just as Niall slid into the seat beside him.

“Ya think Harry’ll mind me taking this seat or?”

“Nah, he prefers sitting on the end, that way he can get up and mingle—won’t be long before he heads over to the pool tables to flirt.”

“But those birds are at least twice his age…”

“Just his type then, eh Zee?” This must be some kind of inside joke between them because Zayn nods letting out a faint chuckle of agreement.

Harry arrives shortly after that, baring shots for all and the five of them. They throw them back like there’s water in those glasses and not citrus flavored vodka that burns its way down their throats. Harry slid in close to Niall’s side, practically invading his personal space as he cuddled up to him, whispering words that were much too low for Liam to make out from across the table.

 But he was using this low husky voice that was making Liam fidget a bit in his seat and he wasn’t even on the receiving end of said attentions—couldn’t feel Harry’s damp hot breath curl around his ears with every flirtatious line the curly lad tried on him.

Not that any of it mattered because Niall, whose cheeks had turned an alarming shade of pink, hasn’t taken his eyes off Zayn once since sitting down, and from the smug half smile on the darker lad’s face, he was well aware of the fact. Finally risking a glance up from his sketch, golden brown collides with electric blue and in that moment Liam knew poor Harry didn’t stand a chance, not with the mutual heart eyes those two were sporting.

“You know last year’s win was a fluke, right?” Louis blurts directly in his ear. “The only reason the Rovers took home the cup is because Man U were missing their star player, Persie—benched for the final match with an ankle sprain.”

“I don’t know about all that, but what I do know is that my team’s got heart and we gave that game everything we had and came out the victors…couldn’t have asked for anything more from the boys.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve got no direction out there!”

“Oh yeah? Think you ought ta take that one up with our coach then.”

“I just might. But seriously, the rest of the team go out there looking like lost little sheep out to pasture waiting for their idiot shepherd to come around and herd them, and lemma just say, yer doin’ a piss poor job of it.”

“The last three wins say otherwise, but thank you for the feedback, ‘preciate it.”

“What is wrong with you? Are you some kind of robot programmed to respond with only kindness? Get mad—get angry at what I’m saying—Christ, would you give me something?”

“I’m sorry if I refuse to be goaded into an argument with you.”

“Eh, it’s just as well, those lemmings you call fans would probably throw a fit if their captain cardboard dare say something untoward about someone.”

“Don’t.” Liam gritted out, turning his head to level Louis with a look.

“What…”

“Say what you want about me, and you can even bad mouth the team if you feel you must, but don’t you dare talk badly about our fans.”

“I’m a fan!” Louis reminded, slamming his fist on the table in frustration.

“You’re a pest—a problem.” Liam corrected, barely batting an eye at the outburst.

Louis drew back slightly, not expecting that. “Wow, Payne, tell me how you really feel.” He joked, for once feeling like he was finally getting somewhere with the other man.

Liam shook his head, studying his beer in an effort to avoid Louis' curious stare. “No, I could never, like you said you’re a fan, and I’d never speak badly towards a fan.” Louis let out a huff of annoyance, slamming his back against the wall of the booth and crossing is arms.

“God you’re such a bore!” Liam looked like he wanted to retort, like he had something hanging on the tip of his tongue just dying to be voiced but the footballer snapped his mouth shut with an audible click.

***

The rest of the night is filled with much of the same with Louis trying to rouse Liam into a fight and Liam mostly fending him off using the tried and true kill ‘em with kindness method, which only infuriates Louis further—so mission accomplished. Harry gives up on Niall and eventually bounces over to the jukebox to chat up this bloke in an eyesore of a shirt that Liam suspects is Hawaiian print, either way he doesn’t look too hurt about Niall’s lack of interest.

That leaves Niall and Zayn to flirt quietly in the corner of the booth and Liam’s honestly never seen his friend this quiet or this still in all the years he’s known him, so he figures this must be the real deal, or close to it.

***

The Rovers lose their next game but not because of Liam. He did everything right, made all the right calls the other team was just better…it happens, but according to Louis, the Rovers played like a group of drunken toddlers, which he has no problem letting Liam know, and even accuses him of being half asleep out there on the field.

Liam’s only response is to smile overly big, showing off all of his teeth and tells Louis it’s good to see him, thanking him for coming to the game.

Louis seethes.

***

Despite the brave front he’d put up for Louis, when Liam enters the locker room the first thing he does is kick the closest locker, putting an impressive dent in the side. He’s not angry with the boys, though—he’d never do that. No, he blames himself...feels guilty for letting his team and the fans down.

The team they lost to wasn’t even a good one, they’re ranked second to last on the leader boards and should’ve been an easy win and yet, instead they’d managed to smoke the Rovers.

He showered and got dressed in record time, speaking to no one and ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him. All he wanted to do was go home, find something edible in his fridge and either bury himself in mindless trash television, or perhaps he’d get out his boxing gloves and take a bit of his frustration out on the old punching bag.

But because luck is almost never on his side, Niall is of course there waiting for him when he emerges from the locker rooms and without Liam having to say a word, the blonde falls into step with him as they head towards his car.

Niall’s silence only lasts until they’re both buckled and settled in the car. “So we lost tonight…big deal, it happens. We’ll get them next time.”

Liam’s hands tighten around the steering wheel as he lets out a heavy sigh. “I know.”

“You did good out there, Li. You all played brilliantly, those guys just had yer number is all.” Liam nods.

“Yeah I know but…”

Niall interrupts.

“If anything, you could always say you gave them the game out of charity, lord knows they probably won’t win another one for the rest of the season.” Niall snickers until he gets a look at the disapproval on Liam’s face and promptly shuts up.

“Hey! Don’t be rude besides I…” Again Liam is cut off by his eager mate.

“Not to mention I noticed Hemmings limping a bit during the second half, which means you weren’t even playing at full strength so…”

“Niall, it’s fine!” Liam shouts, his voice reverberating in the enclosed space of the car but it gets Niall’s attention. “We lost and that sucks but I don’t really want to talk about it, I just want to go home and…do you know what we’ve got to eat in the fridge?” Readjusting himself in his seat after being scolded, Niall does a quick mental inventory of the items in their fridge.

“Lets see we’ve still got quite a bit of that vegetarian chili you wanted us to try and I think we have a few of those chicken burger patties in the freezer, but I’ve already decided to spring for Chinese, my treat.”

“Oh, well alright then, Chinese it is.”

“And while we eat we can decide what we’re doing with the rest of the night.”

“I already know what I’m doing with the rest of my night.” Liam says matter-of-factly, jumping slightly when Niall reaches out to pat his hand soothingly.

“Sure you do Li, I’m sure you think you do.” Liam opened his mouth to argue, and then decided it wasn’t worth it and flipped the radio on instead.

***

“How the hell did I let you convince me to come out to a club show again?” Liam growled, dodging yet another elbow as it came this close to catching him in the ribs. Niall, for his part, looked unaffected by his friend’s irritation.

“You didn’t, I won fair and square…when will you learn that fire beats everything? I mean it’s as if you’ve never seen Friends or summat.”

They were at a low key club in town, the place nearly full to the brim with mostly uni aged kids but Liam suspected more than a few of them had entered brandishing fake ids, any self respecting fifteen year old had one—it was a sort of rite of passage here in Doncaster.

A mate of Niall’s band was playing a gig tonight, and although Liam’s never actually met Josh, from the stories Niall tells, he seems like an ok sort—liked to laugh, was passionate about drumming and sushi.

So far he doesn’t have too many regrets about being dragged from their flat, hardly anyone has recognized him, thanks to his ingenious disguise of a snapback and University of Leeds hoodie. He blended in quite well with the crowd, if he did say so himself, and the drinks were decently priced.

His only complaint would be how long it was taking Niall to get their drinks, leaving Liam to stand awkwardly alone while others laughed and chatted around him waiting for the show to start.

“Is this your idea of incognito?” A disturbingly familiar voice says from his right and Liam can’t help but groan when he meets the familiar blue eyes and look of contempt he’s come to know all too well, and sighs, wishing Niall would return with that beer already because he sure as hell was going to need it if he was going to have to deal with this.

Liam sighed. “Just trying to blend in, so as not to take attention away from the band.” To Liam’s shock the other man snorts, looking more disgusted then amused.

“Right of course, Liam Payne would never hide from his fans and deprive them the chance to meet their favorite footie player.”

Liam nodded in agreement, looking away towards the stage as though he could will the band to start through sheer force of wishing it so. “Exactly, s’why I didn’t duck and hide when I saw you coming, know what an avid supporter you are…” He quipped, watching from the corner of his eye as Louis drew back back as if physically struck by the slight, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Hey now, I’m just trying to help, because unlike you, I actually care about Donny’s reputation, you’re an outsider moved here from Dudley or wherever—”

“Wolverhampton, actually...” Louis held up a hand.

“I don’t bloody care, the point is, I’ve got more Donny pride in me little pinky then you’ve got in your entire body. And so I get a bit vocal during the matches, but it’s only so I can assist you all. I’ve just never been any good at holding me tongue.” Liam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from scoffing because the nerve of this guy, trying to play the petty insults and childish taunts he screams at them daily off as him doing his part to help the team—what a joke. And if Liam were anyone else he’d tell Louis exactly where he can shove his so called assistance, but the fact of the matter was, he is Liam Payne and so he shoots the other man a tight smile and a thumbs up.

“I don’t doubt it and I’m sure calling us a bunch of daft knobheads who couldn’t find the goal if it uprooted itself and ran towards us has been very helpful to me and the lads, so ta.” There was a pause during which Liam prayed to every deity and made all kinds of deals with the devil that Niall would please come and save him or hell, he’d settle for either Zayn or Harry coming round to collect their obnoxious mate, while Louis stood there eyes narrowed as he seemed to study Liam, finally just as Liam is about ready to excuse himself to the loo just for an excuse to not be there any longer Louis speaks.

“You’re a real prick, you know that?” Out of all the things he’d expected Louis to say that may have been furthest from his mind.  He feigns surprise, going so far as to bring a hand up to his chest in offense but Louis ignores him, trudging on. “No hear me out, you are—and you’re the worst kind of prick because you cloak your prickiness in kindness and dopey crinkle-eyed smiles. But the thing is, an insult is still an insult no matter how pretty the packaging it comes in.”

“Have I insulted you?” Liam asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Louis snarls. “Why you…” He moves forward right hand curled into a fist as though he means to actually strike Liam but thankfully Niall sidles up to them just in the nick of time.

“Louis! Bro, surprised to see you here.” Louis huffed loudly, blowing his fringe out of his eyes in the process.

“Really? Cause the way Harry tells it, you texted Zayn up and invited us out tonight…you didn’t say anything about bringing Mr. Fun bags here with you.”

Niall’s eyebrow pinches and he looks genuinely bewildered when he asked, “Why wouldn’t I bring my best mate along?”

Louis shrugs, indifferent. “Common sense? He’s not exactly the life of the party.”

“Maybe or maybe he’s just not up for your type of partying mate.” Liam tries not to beam with pride because while Niall may be on the small size, he had a huge heart. He was a scrapper and fiercely loyal to those he cared about, much like a faithful dog and had no problem baring his canines at anyone who tried to mess with his people.

“Whoa down Fido, I was only slaggin’ off, no harm meant.”

“Let’s keep it that way, yeah?” Turning to Liam he sticks his tongue out and rolls his eyes at Louis’ ridiculousness and hands him his bottle of brew. “Here ya go, Payno.”

“Cheers.” Liam smiles back to show he’s alright and even salutes him with his beer before taking his first swig.

Turning to Louis, Niall nods to him, tipping his own bottle back. “Speaking of the boys where’d Zayn and Harry get up to?” Still suffering from residual annoyance Louis shrugs, letting an arm sweep the room.

“Oh they’re around here somewhere—ah here they are, seems Harold’s sniffed you out, blondie.”  He says just in time for Harry to attack Niall from behind draping his entire body across the shorter man, completely dwarfing him.

“Nialler, Hiiii”

“Hiya Haz...Zayn.” He grunts, his face softening when he offers the darker boy a strained smile. “What no napkin doodle or sketchpad today?” He teases, finally shrugging a pouting Harry off of him and straightening his clothes.

Zayn grins up at him through his long lashes “Nope figured I’d appreciate the band and um company.”

Harry, who’d been standing there watching them with an embarrassingly wide smile like a proud parent, finally clears his throat feeling like an intruder. “Oh hey, I think I see my mate Aiden, so I ought to go over and say hi, I’ll see you lot in a bit.” He doesn’t wait for a response just pats Niall’s shoulder and is gone.

Liam watches him go, effortlessly weaving through the jungle of people, more than a few of them eyeing him with interest and more than a couple even try stopping him to chat, but he easily waves them off and eventually makes it to his friends side, who lights up at his presence…Liam’s starting to get that that’s just a standard reaction to him and can’t help but smirk.

“And then there were two.”  Louis says at his side, drawing Liam's attention away from the curly-haired boy.

Liam’s eyebrow furrows because they definitely were not alone. “What do ya mean Niall and Zayn are still…oh.” He cuts off as he sees his mates having scooted into a little nook where they stood close, hands clasped between them as they stared into each other’s eyes, as though they were the only ones in the room instead of standing in a packed club.

“Yeah, oh.” Louis agrees with a laugh.

Liam brings a hand up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck. “Huh, well, that’s rather inconvenient.”

Louis sighs loudly. “You’re telling me.” He mutters, watching as Liam fidgets, looking uncomfortable, not only because he looks out of place in the dingy club, but like he’d rather be anywhere other than standing here with Louis, which really didn’t sit well with Louis. Sure he and Liam weren’t exactly mates and probably never would be but he was good company—known to be quite a pleasure to be around in most social circles, and he’d be damned if he let Liam think differently.

“Right, so about this band then, have you actually heard a song of theirs or—“ The lights go down and a thunderous rumble settles over the crowd as they clap and whistle and chant the band’s name.

“Shh, it’s starting.” Liam hushes him, not even bothering to look away from the stage. Louis sighs again, frustrated.

***

After the band leaves and the house Dj takes over, the club clears out a bit as the underage patrons decide not to push their luck by heading to the bar and instead head home. Their mates are all still preoccupied so Liam suggests they move to sit at the bar, much to Louis’ surprise, who just nods and leads the way.

Louis is two beers and a whiskey in when he squints over at Liam, studying him like some unknown species, which isn’t too far off since he can’t for the life of him figure him out…how he can be so—so nice all the time. Before he can stop himself the filter in his head fails him and he blurts: “What’s yer deal? I’ve said some pretty horrid things to you and you just…take it.”

“You’re a fan, obnoxious or otherwise I could never talk back.” Louis smirks at this, realizing the other man isn’t as unaffected as he likes to act, but he let slip that he thought Louis was obnoxious.

“Yer team mates don’t seem to have any trouble sticking it to me good.” The smaller man admitted offhandedly, reaching into the bowl of peanuts and scooping out a generous amount. He gasps in surprise when Liam grips his wrist suddenly, knocking most of the nuts from his hand.

“Have they said anything offensive? I’ll talk to them at next practice because that is unacceptable.”

Louis blushes at the stern look on Liam’s face, the rigid set of his shoulders and the way his arms bulge through the thin t-shirt he wore out tonight, still squeezing Louis' wrist and he secretly hoped it bruised, so that he could admire it later and remember being touched by Liam Payne. God he was pathetic. But what really shocked him was how genuinely concerned Liam looked, like the thought of his teammates getting out of line and upsetting Louis really meant something to him.

He swallowed thickly and tried to get his tongue to work properly.

“No—no it’s fine. I like me a bit of banter, quite enjoy when someone gives as good as they get, if ya know what I mean.” For a moment it didn’t look like Liam believed him but finally he nodded, gently releasing Louis' wrist and Louis immediately brought his other hand up to rub a the skin there, not because it was sore—Liam hadn’t hurt him, but because he felt tingly where Liam had touched him.

“Oh. Well, so long as they’re not being too cruel…”

“They’re fine really…but uh thanks?”

It was Liam’s turn to blush. “No problem.” He mumbled, scratching at his neck again and Louis wondered why it is that he made the other man so nervous. “You uh, must think I’m right boring then, since I refuse to be baited.” Louis' eyes widened, surprising a chuckle out of him.

“It’s a bit frustrating, yeah, but I just look at it as a challenge. I’ll get you…one day you’re gonna snap and when you do, I’ll be there waiting.” He promised and said no more, bringing his glass up to hide his smile.

***

Hangovers are the work of the devil; Louis is convinced, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror above the toilet, looking half dead and a little green around the edges. He knows he won’t actually be sick—he didn’t spend four years in uni building up a tolerance for nothing, ya know - the only sad part is he doesn’t even remember drinking enough to warrant one, which doesn’t seem fair, if he’s going to do the time at least let him have enjoyed the bloody crime, but he figures it’s nothing a bowl or three of coco pops can’t fix. Shaking off, he taps the flush and washes his hands.

He hadn’t bothered to throw on much more than last night’s underwear but thinks fuck it, he lives alone—a regular bachelor in a bachelor pad and he’ll wear whatever he wants to breakfast - so scratching his arse he heads to the kitchen.

He’s just poured his first bowl, spoon raised to his mouth and ready to be eaten when there’s a knock at his door and he can’t help but frown because entertaining is the very last thing he wants to do right now. He thinks if he’s quiet enough maybe the person on the other side of the door will just go away. As if reading his mind the person knocks again, louder this time and Louis drops his spoon to the bowl and growls.

“Nobody’s home.” He calls out hoping whatever idiot was on the other side of his door was just that—an idiot.

“I’m not here to see Nobody, came lookin’ for Louis is he in?” Louis rolled his eyes, it was an idiot alright, his best fucking mate. Wrestling his tired body out of his seat he slumped over to the door, throwing it open with a scowl.

“I fucking hate you, you know.”

Harry just beamed back. “Good morning to you too.” He chirped moving into the apartment to reveal a sluggish Zayn, looking like he was about ready to keel over or fall asleep standing up whichever came first.

“Et tu, Zayn?” Louis whined, sticking his bottom lip out, looking hurt. Zayn rolled his eyes.

“I bloody live with the ponce if I’m to be dragged from my bed before noon, then by god you will too.” He snarled, and shoved passed Louis into the apartment.

“I was already up, about to enjoy a breakfast of champions.” Zayn halted, turning around with interest.

“Fruity Os?”

Louis shook his head.

“Coco pops.” He corrected, moving passed him and taking his seat once more behind his breakfast.

“Nice, lemme have a bowl.”

Louis raised an indignant eyebrow, waving a hand in the general direction of the cupboards. “You know where everything is, ain’t no maid service in casa de Tommo.” Zayn grumbled something about shitty hosts and shuffled into the kitchen for a bowl and spoon for himself.

“Oi, at least I come bearing gifts.” Harry protested, holding up the coffee carrier in his hand above his head like a trophy.

“At least, give it ‘ere.” Louis demanded with a snap of his fingers, using his other hand to shovel a couple of spoonfuls of cereal into his gob before it all went soggy.

Taking a huge gulp of his tea, Louis hummed contentedly. “Ok I officially love you again.”

“Gee thanks, nice to know that’s all it takes to get back into your good graces.”

“Yep, I’m easy that way.” He said without shame. “So, why are you two here at ass o clock in the morning?”

“It’s almost twelve pm, Louis.” Harry screeched incredulously, sipping at his health smoothie.

“I stand by my original statement, everyone knows any time before noon is considered too damn early for consciousness after a night of drinking. Did you learn nothing back in uni?”

“I never went…”

“Oh right, it’s Zayn who had that fancy schmancy art scholarship.”

Looking up from the cereal he was pouring, Zayn shot his friend a sympathetic look. “Aw babe, green really isn’t your color.”

Louis scoffed. “I’m not jealous! What the hell would I do with an art scholarship? Can’t even draw a decent stick figure.”

Switching the box cereal for the milk Zayn nodded. “True, but you’re envious of the fact that I know what I want out of life and am going for it.”

“Touché.”

Looking like someone has just flicked him between the eyes, Harry frowns at his two mates.

“That’s not fair, Louis knows what he wants to do with his life, he wants to be involved in football—a sports journalist but in the mean time he runs a sports blog, there’s nothing wrong in that.”

Zayn nodded a second time, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth in thought as he mixed his cereal in with the milk, making sure every individual pop got wet before he started to eat. “Never said there was, I just know that isn’t endgame for him and I’m still a bit cranky from being woken up so early, soz mate.”

“It’s alright; we’ve all been there. Besides, you didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Still, was out of line.”

“Yeah alright, so about why are you here?” He asked, putting attention on Harry by pointing his milky spoon at the youngest of them.

Harry’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his current mouthful of smoothie. “Oh, well no real reason. After doing my morning yoga regimen, I decided I didn’t want to be cooped up in the flat or alone, so I braved the Zayn monster, and came over here.”

“So you didn’t want to be cooped up in your flat and decided to come here to be cooped up in my flat?”

The taller lad at least had the decency to look sheepish. “Uh well, sort of? But now that we’re here and you’re up, we don’t have to stay in we could go catch a flick. When’s the last time we actually went to see a movie that wasn’t on Netflix?”

“Together or in general?” Louis asked, just to be an asshole.

“Either.” He huffed in irritation.

“Too long. Jesus.” Zayn admitted around the food in his mouth making Harry’s face pinch up in disgust.

“Exactly, so we should go see one now!”

“Yeah alright, could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday, just let us finish up our brekkies and I’ll go get dressed.” Harry clapped his hands giddily, grabbing his mobile to look up movie times.

“So Zayn, how’d things turn out with Niall last night? The two of you were looking mighty cozy once the lights went down.” Louis asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, causing his friend to stop chewing mid bite as if the food in his mouth has gone tasteless and he swallows it all in one huge lump.

“Oh um, good it’s good. Niall’s pretty great…it’s weird because he’s not my usual type.”

“Yeah, I noticed not exactly the arty farty type.”

Zayn glared, though there wasn’t any heat behind his eyes. “Right, thanks for that but I don’t know I like him. He’s cute and makes me laugh and actually cares about the things I’m into—not because he’s into them too but because he likes seeing me be so passionate about stuff, that’s uh good, right?”

“That the guy you like likes you back enough to sit through you popping a boner over Van Gogh’s entire collection, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say yes.”

Zayn rolled his eyes but the pleased look on his face was hard to miss. “Cool, because I really like him, he’s got the best smile.”

Harry and Louis share a look from across the table.

“So how far did you two get?”

“Lewis!” Harry hissed, shooting Louis his best angry kitten look.

Louis held his hands up in front of him “What? We’re all adults here.”

“It’s okay, Haz.” Zayn assured him with a grateful smile, to Louis he said, “we kissed...it was nice and afterward he invited me to this thing he’s having at his place tomorrow night.”

“Thing?”

Zayn shrugged. “A Bbq thing.”

“What the hell? How come he keeps only inviting you to these things, he’s got all our numbers…”

“He mentioned that to me too, sounds like fun.” Harry piped in, interrupting Louis' rant much to his dismay.

“Oh so it’s just me, then? Great.” He huffed, throwing his hands up. Zayn watched him, shaking his head unsympathetic.

“Have you even checked your messages this morning?” Turning his sour look on the darker boy, Louis made a show of pushing away from the table and stomping over to the table by his couch where it was charging and thumbed it open, his face drops though when he sees a next from Niall and doesn’t even need to open it to know it’s an invitation to his party.

Clearing his throat and ignoring his friend’s smug looks, he returns to the table phone in hand.

“So it’s at his flat, then? Tomorrow night, you say?” Harry looks as though he wants to add a snide comment but Zayn speaks first.

“Yeah, maybe we can pitch in and bring a bottle of something with us?” Harry makes an excited squeaking noise that Louis assumes is agreement, when a thought suddenly occurs to him and he sits up straighter in his chair.

“Doesn’t he share a flat with Payne?”

Harry taps his chin. “Hmm I think so, I’m pretty sure I read once in a gossip rag back when people thought they were dating that they shared a flat.”

“Well now, this should be interesting do you think he’ll be there too?” He’d been shooting for nonchalant but apparently missed by a mile as Zayn barked a laugh, flicking a stray coco pop in his direction and hitting him on the nose.

“God Lou, you’re not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

“Subtle about what?” He asked, tossing the pop into his bowl, stirring his spoon through the soggy mess that’s become his cereal dashing all hope of him finishing it.

“Your crush on Liam.” Zayn stated simply. Louis breathed in deeply through his nose trying to think of an argument he hasn’t already used but he’s saved having to answer by Harry, who drops his head into his folded arms on the table and whines:

“No fair everyone’s coupled up but me, how come I don’t get a fit someone to cuddle up with…no love for poor Hazza.”

“Have you quite finished, Harold? Liam and me are not cuddled up. We’re the furthest thing from cuddled up—I’m pretty sure he wants to bash my head in every time he sees me but he’s just too good and bloody nice to ever actually do it. As for this crush you think I have on him, Malik…it’s nothing. I think he’s fit, I have eyes so sue me, but the more I get to know him the more I want to just poke him incessantly until he finally snaps, dropping the Stepford footballer act—he’s like a robot programmed to only react by smiling and waving, it’s so fucking annoying.”

“In other words you’ve got it bad.” Zayn mused, the corners of his mouth twitching as though it was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know why I even talk to you sometimes.” The slighter man huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

“Because I’m real—I don’t sugar coat shit and play to your ego like Harry does.”

“Hmm yeah, sounds about right, but this crush thing it really isn’t anything to get excited over, I promise.”

“Alight Lou, you keep telling yourself that.” Louis opened his mouth to argue more but then Harry’s head popped up from its cave, his dimples out once more and in full force.

“You know, come to think of it, I did meet a girl in yoga class the other weekend called Eleanor, she’s rather lovely and slipped me her number but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call her or not, but now I think I might, maybe I can text Niall and ask if I can bring her with me to the bbq?”

“Uh sure Harry, she sounds nice, can’t wait to meet her.”

***

The Bbq is in full swing by the time Louis and them arrive, and Liam is confused why he’s so nervous, why his palms are slick with sweat and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He was relieved when people started showing up and he realized Niall’s bbq was a proper party and not just an intimate get together—Niall’s excuse to be around Zayn that would probably find him and Louis in yet another awkward confrontation.

Instead there were a few girls from Niall’s work and guys from the team, as well as people they still talked to from their school days, and even the couple who lived above them, who’d managed to find a sitter for their newborn at the last minute had, dropped by.

So there were plenty of people to hide amongst, darting out of rooms when Louis entered and weaving in and out of the various groups that had gathered in the living room. There was no reason for them to interact beyond a curt greeting and yet, Liam found himself sticking close by, shadowing Louis as he moved about, mingling as one does at a party, making sure no trouble broke out between Louis and his team mates—at least that’s what he told himself.

It’s just that he heard a bunch of the guys grumbling about his presence when he arrived, referring to him as the ‘mouthy git’ and remembering their conversation from the other night when Louis mentioned that some of the other guys on the team shouted rude things to him during the games, he felt this odd compulsion to protect the smaller man. He couldn’t explain why—didn’t understand it himself.

He kept enough distance between them that Louis either didn’t notice or was pretending he didn’t, ignoring Liam completely in favor of making a small group of girls Liam’s never met before laugh with a story about a stuffed pigeon named Kevin. The story itself wasn’t all that entertaining but it was Louis' delivery…the animated way he spoke with his hands and really got into the story that had even Liam chuckling behind his hand.

Liam is casually leant against a wall pretending to listen to Clifford recount how he pulled a pair of twin coeds the other night while watching Louis out the corner of his eye when Niall appears out of nowhere, making Liam jump.

“Liam, we’re nearly out of snacks if you can believe it, guess I didn’t count on our guests being so hungry, you mind heading to Tesco?”

“Are you serious you want me to—now?” He asked, looking at the wall clock and seeing it was nearing eleven.

“If you don’t mind…I’d go myself but I think I’m really getting somewhere with Zee and wouldn’t want to leave him for someone else to snatch up in my absence.” Liam resisted the urge to roll his eyes because Aliens could see he was ‘getting somewhere’ from space.

“You could always take him with you…” He pointed out, just to be a jerk.

“Liam.”

Liam sighed patting his back pocket for his wallet. “Fine, but you owe me big time for this because I’m going to have to walk, seeing as the cars blocked in.”

“I could drive ya if you want; I had the forethought to park across the street.” Louis offered slinking up beside him out of nowhere and making Liam jump a second time.

“Oh um…sure thanks.”

Louis nodded, tossing his car keys up and catching them. “Let’s go then.”

Liam followed Louis to the door hoping he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life and that Louis didn’t mean to drive him to the middle of nowhere and leave him.

***

“So what kind of snacks are we looking for?”

“The usual? Crisps, dip, a veggie and cheese platter.”

“How about those mini wieners wrapped in dough thingies? Don’t people usually set those out at parties?”

“Yeah but I’m pretty sure they require cooking, we’re here for ready to eat things…minimal work necessary.”

“Ah I see, pretty nifty with a football but a bit shit in the kitchen, eh?”

“I’ll have you know I make a mean microwavable dinner and Niall’s been known to rave about my easy mac making skills.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

“What about you? Are you some kind of culinarian?”

“Not at all, I’ve been known to burn water. In my entire life I’ve only made one meal and while it was delicious, it took me the entire day, no exaggeration, to cook and I nearly set myself on fire. Harry had to tuck the end of my shirt into the waistband of my joggers just to ensure my safety. It was a birthday dinner for him back when we were just getting to know each other and I still felt the need to try and impress him—little did I know that Harry was so easy to win over—could’ve ordered in a soddin’ pizza and he would’ve been just as hap…ooh mini donuts!” He cried, grabbing a box of assorted mini donuts and tossing them into the cart.

Liam let him do it.

“Think we should get sliced fruit as well?”

“I know Haz would sure appreciate it.” Convinced, Liam began filling bags with various fruits:  apples, peaches, oranges, as well as grabbing a few bananas, a watermelon and a container of strawberries.

“What no pineapple? You know they say if you eat pineapple it uh—nevermind.”

“No what do they say?” Liam asked genuinely curious.

Louis blushed. “Nothing it’s—I don’t know why I brought it up, especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Liam repeats, sounding cross. Louis nods.

“An over grown Boy Scout—a human puppy, you’re so good and innocent…”

Liam scoffed. “I’m hardly innocent.”

“…almost virginal.”

“I am certainly not a virgin.”

Louis brought a hand up to cover his face embarrassed. “God, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I don’t know what is up with my brain to mouth filter tonight, think it’s on the fritz or something.”

“What do they say about eating pineapples, Louis?”

“Can we please just drop it?” Liam shook his head firmly

“Tell me or I’ll just be forced to Google it while you watch.” He threatened, already reaching for his phone.

“Alright fine, they say if you eat a lot of pineapple then it makes you uh, taste less unpleasant.”

“Taste? What like your skin? It alter our sweat glands or…”

“Not skin, your ahem.” He coughs, pointedly letting his eyes fall to Liam’s crotch and back up again.

“My…oh…Oh!”

“Yeah…” Louis trailed off, feeling the heat fill his cheeks.

Liam stands there looking completely scandalized for a moment before surprising Louis by reaching for a tub of pre-sliced pineapples and waving them in Louis' direction. “Should we get some then? For anyone on the pull tonight?”

It takes a minute for Liam’s words to reach his brain but once they do Louis is practically doubled over in laughter, tears actually collecting in the corner of his eyes.

“God Liam, you really are something, ever the courteous host. Yeah, let’s just grab some pineapple for any blokes at the party looking to nut in someone’s mouth.”

“Louis! Language!”

“What this place is practically deserted, no one heard me.”

Liam doesn’t look convinced, frowning as he steers the cart down the snack food aisle. “Let’s just grab crisps and maybe some salsa and get out of here, this should be more than enough for a party that should be winding down in a couple of hours, anyway.”

“Have I offended your fragile sensibilities, Liam?”

“Not at all I uh, just really want to get back to the party since it’ll probably be my last for a good while. Coach has really dropped the hammer on us about cutting back on the fun and focusing on our training for the upcoming match against Arsenal.”

Ah, football a nice, safe topic for the two of them.

“Right, that should be a tough one; they’ve been looking pretty good this year.”

“Yeah, the lads are pretty worried about this one, but I just look at it as any other match, you know? We’ve got a 50/50 shot at winning, just like we’ve got a 50/50 shot at losing. So as long as we give it all we got there’s nothing to be ashamed of, no matter the outcome.”

“Is that really what you tell them?” He asks with a skeptical eyebrow.

“Among other things, yes—it’s what I say before a game in the locker room to pump the lads up before a match.”

“Is that right? And all this time I thought you sang the seven dwarves working song from Snow White.”

Liam freezes the bag of crisps falling from his hands as his cheeks go an alarming shade of red. “Oh god, who have you been talking to…that was one time!”

Louis shrugs, smirking as he sneaks a pack of Oreos into the cart and by sneak he means thathe does it while looking Liam dead in his eyes, daring him to say something. “Niall might’ve spilled the beans on that one mate. He also said you’re mad for all things Toy Story…”

“I’m going to kill him.” Liam growls, cursing under his breath as he pushes the cart towards the bank of registers.

“Don’t—it’s, I think it’s rather cute…do you fancy yourself more of a Woody or a Buzz?”

Lining up behind a little old woman, Liam tapped a nervous beat on the cart handle before turning to Louis smiling sheepishly. “What do you think?”

Louis stared back, holding eye contact as he thought this over, thought about the two characters one was proud, passionate, and stupidly brave—throwing himself into just about everything he does and thinks about the consequences later, a natural born leader, who is warm and deeply loyal. While the other one was a bit reckless, well meaning but can be a bit too erratic and impulsive at times…it was clear which best-resembled Liam.

“Woody, definitely Woody.”

***

When they return, the lights in the flat have been dimmed and the party’s playlist has been switched to some kind of slow jam baby making music and everyone has paired off, whispering closely in corners, giggling on the couch. Niall and Zayn are nowhere to be seen and Harry is too busy making out with his date Eleanor to pay them any mind.

It’s all too much to stand, so they flee to the kitchen where they set everything out and put the rest away in the fridge and cupboards, noticing that Niall was nice enough to save them each a burger wrapped in cellophane with a post-it note stuck on each with their names on them.

“Hey, if you throw those in the microwave for us I’ll go grab my pack of playing cards and we can have a quick game of war…something you might actually be able to beat me at?”

Louis wanted to reject the offer, remind Liam that they weren’t friends, that he’d much rather shave his own eyeballs then do something so companionable with his mortal enemy but he couldn’t actually get his mouth to form the words and instead finds himself fixing the other man with a smirk.

“You’re on.”

***

Louis groans, scrubbing a hand over his face in anger as he deletes the same two paragraphs he’s been trying to write for the last hour or so. This used to be so easy for him, two things he knew about was football and writing. It was the reason he wanted to be a sports journalist concentrating on the Rovers, but so far he hasn’t been able to catch his break and started his blog in the meantime, which had generated a pretty decent following.

He had no trouble giving his brutally honest analysis, not pulling any punches. He was known and revered for his witticisms and the fact that he wasn’t afraid to tear into the team’s precious captain. He could be harsh at times but was always candid, which his readers really seemed to appreciate.

But now every word he typed was making him sound like a gushing fangirl going wax poetic over the teen heart throb du jour. Dripping with compliments and commending him on what he was doing with the team, as far as leading them to a second championship instead of taking a dig at the number of turnovers they’d allowed or the lack of communication on the field.

It was starting to read like an ode to Liam Payne, like he was single handedly responsible for the team’s outstanding record, did all alone.

His mobile phone buzzes on his desk and he picks it up with relief, welcoming the distraction and sees it’s a text from Harry.

Heeeeeey what r you doing?

Nothing just about to set my laptop on fire so you know the yoosh

That’s nice sooo I kinda have a date with El tonight

Get in hazza you never do second dates

I know but she’s different…

Louis thought about pressuring Harry for more, curious what made this girl so different that he was actually going to date her and not his usual wham bam thank you ma’am (or mister) her, but decided against it.

Ok so whats the problem?

I don’t know what top to wear

Louis rolled his eyes but smiled down at his phone as he typed his response.

So a true state of emergency then

Do you think I look better in floral or paisley?

Um is there a difference

Louis! Of course there’s a –or maybe I should wear my flamingos show her my animal side rowr ;)

You really shouldnt

I know!!! I’ll wear one of my sheer tops

Think youll want to leave your tetra tits under wraps at least until the third date

Well then what am I supposed to wear???

He didn’t have to see Harry to know he was probably standing with his hands on his hips, stomping his foot in his version of anger and figured the time for teasing was over.

How about that shirt yer mum got you a couple birthdays ago…the one with the hearts

That’s perfect Lou you’re a genius!!! xx

You say that as though you had doubts im offended

Pssh don’t push it

There’s a break in the conversation and Louis sighs, figuring Harry will get dressed and then spend the next hour working on his hair ad deciding which of his fifty pairs of boots he wants to wear, but before he can set his phone aside and take another crack at getting this bloody review written, it buzzes again.

Ok now that we’ve settled my issue what’s wrong?

What makes you think theres something wrong n dont say you can tell by the tone of my typing bc once again that makes no sense

 Well I can most of the time but this time it was the whole setting your laptop on fire comment that clued me in

Ah excellent detective work that

I try, so what’s up?

I dont really want to talk about it

Louis watches the three dots blink as Harry types, they stop and start a couple of times before Harry’s smiling face suddenly appears as Harry decides this conversation was better suited for a verbal conversation. Louis honestly doesn’t feel like talking right now but he can’t exactly ignore it, Harry knows he’s by the phone, so with a heavy sigh he thumbs the answer button.

“Well that’s too bad because this is me and I’m a right nosy bastard, as you’ve called me on a number of occasions, so make this easier on yourself and spill.” Harry blurts in way of greeting.

“It’s not fair.” Louis groans without thinking.

“What’s not fair?”

“That someone like Liam Payne is allowed to exist.”

“Um…okay?”

Louis sucks his teeth, reaching into his desk drawer for his stress ball and giving it a few squeezes before speaking again. “He’s messing everything up.”

“How is he—“ Louis cut him off.

“Before I met him, actually got to know him, I had no problem dragging him through the mud, calling him out on every single dumb mistake he made, even if they were things anyone could’ve done, that wasn’t the point…” Tossing his stress ball back into its drawer he slams it shut and tugs angrily at his hair.

“The point was to hurt Liam, to rile him up so that he’d finally reach his bending point…it was my main source of happiness and before you pout like I know you want to…I’m not the only one, I have thousands of people subscribed to my blog who leave comments that make mine look right cheery by comparison. But now I know it’s all shite, that he’s the real deal, a stand up guy with an adorable smile that makes his eyes crinkle up like a bloody golden retriever pup. He smells amazing and has a decent sense of humor and now I find myself getting offended by the comments people leave about him because how dare they say that about Liam, when I know for a fact that he’s the best human being ever to human being.”

“Wow Lou, are you saying you…“

“And this week’s article is completely rubbish because all I seem to be capable of doing is gushing about his maneuver skills and how he’s really stepped up as a leader and how bloody fit he looks in red, the color really brings out his warm brown eyes—Christ, what is wrong with me?”

He spits out, slamming his fist down on the desk as he waits for answer for Harry to make sense of things.

“So Zayn was right all along, you do have a crush on him…that’s great, I mean I always thought he was aces but since getting to know him, like you said, he surpassed all my expectations. He’s amazing and to be honest, the two of you together would be sort of perfect. I mean it says something that you practically talk in sarcasm and insults and yet there’s still so much chemistry there between you.”

Louis made a pained noise in the back of his throat because that’s not what he wanted to hear, Harry was supposed to be on his side. “No, Haz, I hate him, I hate his gorgeous face and his fit body with all those pesky muscles. I hate his over politeness and the way it takes him a while to get the joke, I hate his singing voice, which I had the pleasure of hearing the other night driving home from Tesco when Uptown Funk came on the radio, and of course he can bloody sing, because being attractive and a star athlete isn’t enough for the likes of him! I hate how nice he is, like nobody is supposed to be that nice, he’s not mother Theresa, for fucks sake. But most of all, I hate that he’ll never be mine…oh god, how did I let this happen?” Louis groaned, wiping at the few stubborn tears from his face.

“Oh, Lou.” Harry whispered and that was all it took for the dam to break, sending angry tears cascading down his cheeks.

***

Liam gets a bit of a late start the next morning when his alarm fails to go off and he has a sneaky suspicion that Louis might’ve gotten up to more than just a wee when he disappeared to find the loo the night before. He and the boys had come over for an Ironman marathon. When he finally turned in for bed he found several items in his room rearranged and should’ve guessed the blue-eyed menace would fuck with other, less noticeable, things, like his alarm as well.

Climbing out of bed he hurriedly dressed in his jogging attire, hoping to get at least half his usual regime in before breakfast. As he’s stepping out of his room, he runs right into Zayn, fully dressed in Niall’s clothes, sporting artful bedhead and sneaking out the blonde’s room as quietly as possible.

“Why Zayn Malik, do my eyes deceive me or are you doing the walk of shame?” He teased, rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes.

Zayn mustered a tired smile “No, you wanker, it’s not the walk of shame when you’re leaving your boyfriend’s room you’re snaking out.”

“Boyfriend?” Liam asked, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline in surprise, making Zayn fidget in place as he nods once looking up at Liam through thick eyelashes.

“Uh yeah, is that alright?”

“It’s about bloody time really, I’m happy for you two, where’re you off to now?”

“I’m sort of late for work.” He admits with a sheepish shrug.

“Overslept?”

Zayn’s eyes go comically wide and he makes a surprised choking sound, coughing to cover it “Yeah sure, let’s go with that.” Liam looks confused for all of a second before he eyes go just as wide as Zayn’s cheeks heating up.

The two of them share a look of understanding, and before Liam can comment on just what Zayn had gotten up to this morning, Niall’s door swings open and out walks the sleepy blonde completely nude save for the soft smile he aims at Zayn.

“Babe, you’re still here?” He rasps, squinting up at the darker boy.

The look he gives Niall in return is filled with so much fond thatLiam feels like he’s intruding on an intimate moment. “Just leaving actually, but I’ll be back tonight.”

“Mm well have fun at work, think of me if you’re suddenly inspired to draw someone like one of ‘em French girls.” He joked, striking a quick pose before continuing on to the bathroom, purposely putting an extra swing in his step for Zayn’s benefit.

When the door is fully closed Liam shoots him a raised eyebrow. “You’re dating that…officially.” If he thought that was something Zayn would be ashamed of, he was dead wrong, as instead of ducking his head in embarrassment, the darker man grinned, big and bright.

“Damn right I am.”

They leave the flat together but go their separate ways when they’re outside the building, Liam headed toward his usual route, Zayn to the nearest bus stop. Liam sticks his headphones in his ears and starts his workout playlist before slipping his iPhone into his armband and taking off just as ‘Heart of a Champion’ by Nelly fills his ear buds.

He’s been running for about 10 minutes when his music is interrupted by an incoming call and he slows down enough to check the number and sees it’s an unknown caller he thumbs the answer button in case it’s his family with an emergency.

“He—hello?” He pants into the phone. There’s a short pause and then a voice says.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” The voice sounds oddly suspicious for an unknown number that’s called him.

“Sort of, it’s not an ideal time to chat.” He puffs out, resuming full speed. “But you’re not stealing me away from anything.”

“You just sound…busy.” The voice hedges and that’s when he recognizes the caller.

“I am…Louis is-is that you?” His voice coming out even more haggard as he takes a corner.

“Right, I guess I can call back then, I mean who even answers their phone while they’re in the middle of shagging?” Louis says tersely and Liam nearly brains himself when he trips over air in shock and quickly corrects him.

“What the hell, I would-wouldn’t know…because I’m currently jogging!!!”

“Oh.”

“How did you even get my number Louis?”

“Niall gave it to me.” He supplies easily and Liam rolls his eyes because he should’ve known.

“Of course he-he did, always meddling that one. Di-did you need something?”

“Yes actually I was wondering if you owned Fifa.” Liam trips a second time.

“Wha-what?”

“Fi-Fa, do you own it on either Xbox, GameCube or any of the Playstations?” Liam can’t help but chuckle in relief that Louis hadn’t called to insult him—not entirely anyway.

“Do fish need water? Of course I own Fifa.”

“Good because I’m coming over to whoop your arse—show you how football is meant to be played.”

“Sou-sounds like a pla-n. Wa-when?”

“I’m halfway there as we speak, you’re on speaker.”

“Shit!” He curses when he nearly runs right into a parked car.

“Language, number eight.” Louis tutted into the phone and Liam didn’t have to be able to see Louis to know he was smirking.

“You’re one to talk, but crap I guess I’d be-better head back home so I can shower, unless you’re a fan of eau de sweaty man funk.”

Louis barks a laugh into the phone. “As delightful as that sounds, I’ll pass. I might actually beat you there, though…should I wait for you outside your building?” Looking up at the street name he realizes he’s not too far, if he doubles his efforts he could be home in about Twelve minutes and shakes his head before realizing Louis can’t see him.

“Nah, Niall’s there to let you in, just pray he’s put pants on by now.”

“Excuse me?”

“Blame your mate; snuck out late for work after a nice morning shag.”

“Good for them.” Louis hooted and Liam could hear him turn his car off in the background. “Nice to see at least one of us getting some.”

“What you’re going to tell me you’re not getting any?” Liam asked boldly figuring they’d known each other long enough to get away with asking such questions.

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying if you must know, perv.”

Liam chuckled. “I just don’t get why I guess, it’s not because you can’t find anyone willing—you’re well fit.”

“Um…yeah?” Louis asks sounding shy all of a sudden, which is very unlike him. “You think?”

“Mmhm.” He hummed, distracted by a fit woman with wild curls in a form-fitting tracksuit jogging in the opposite direction.

“Why Mr. Payne you’re not harboring secret feelings for me and my hot little bod are you?” He teases sounding more like himself again.

“No.” Liam panted, running in place when he comes to a 'don’t walk' side. “I’m just saying you’re an attractive man…when your mouth is closed.” He finished with a grin and just as predicted Louis makes an indignant noise into the phone.

“Why you no good dirty—“

“Louis…can you…still…hear me? The call…is…breaking up…” Liam says, making pretend static noises and trying to convey his concern all at once.

“Are you really going to fake going through a tunnel on me right now?”

“I’ll…see you…soon.”

“Yeah…alright…prick.” Louis growled, with some fake static of his own and hung up.

***

“I call Rovers.” Louis said from his end of the couch, picking up the green controller and sticking his tongue out at Liam as he made his team selection.

Liam shrugged unbothered. “That’s fine; I never play as Donny anyway.”

“Why not?” He prodded, feeling less satisfied at getting the team he wanted before Liam could.

“Niall usually bagsies them so after awhile I just stopped fighting him on it, I’ll be Manchester.”

“Isn’t it weird seeing yourself as a video game character?” Louis asked, while selecting which game jersey he wanted his team to play in as Liam did the same.

“You have no idea, but then it’s no weirder then seeing myself on the cover of magazines or knowing that I’m on the wall of people’s bedrooms.” Louis hummed because that did sound a bit weird, then there were the life-size cardboard cutouts you could special order off the Internet. He could only imagine the things the people who bought those did with them.

Louis shudders and starts the game.

***

Louis is beating him by a lot, much to Liam’s embarrassment and of course Louis' being a sore winner, shoving the fact in his face and and taunting him much like he does during real matches.

“Mate, have you ever actually played this game? I’m creaming you, literally running circles around you…you’re not even giving me a challenge, might as well take you into the courtyard for a kick about or summat.”

“Oh yeah if you’re so good why don’t you play then…professionally, I mean?” Liam asked as he watched Louis’ player score on him yet again and fights the urge to throw his controller down in frustration—he can’t remember the last time he took this game so seriously, giving it his all and still coming up short.

Louis paused the game and turned sideways on the couch to face him. “You ever heard the saying those who can’t…teach?” He waits for Liam’s nod. “Well I can’t play so I write about it.”

Liam scoffs. “But you obviously can play, so what’s the issue? You’ve got more skill and passion then some players who’ve been at it for years.” Louis preened at that for a beat before frowning once more.

“Ah yes, I’ve got all that and more but it doesn’t mean shit when you’ve also got a weak heart.”

“A what?”

“It’s a birth defect I like to blame on my sperm donor of a father…it’s why none of the physicians and specialists I’ve seen will sign off to let me play—deemed me a liability.”

“Man Lou, I’m sorry I brought it up…” Louis shrugged.

“You didn’t know, besides it’s all water under the bridge now. I quite enjoy writing, so as far as back up plans go. I like to think I’m doing alright and I still get to be involved with football in some capacity, which is awesome.” He finished with a convincing enough smile, though Liam could tell it didn’t reach his eyes completely.

“Right.”  He said, fiddling with the controller so that he didn’t have to look the other man in the eye, he couldn’t imagine his body failing him like that being the reason his dreams could never be actualized.

It gave him a new respect for Louis.

Louis resumed the game without warning, cackling as his player took possession of the ball, dribbling it down the pitch.

On second thought maybe not, Liam thought, as he scrambled to get his players to chase after Louis' but it was to no avail, as the Rovers scored yet again.

***

After having his ass handed to him at Fifa, Liam offers to make them some lunch if Louis planned to staym ever the nuisance Louis says it depends, what’s on the menu and that’s how they found themselves back on the couch, each with a bowl of Liam’s famous easy mac n cheese in their laps.

“When’s the last time you got laid?”

Liam nearly choked on a mouthful of noodles. “Sorry?” Louis smirked mischievously.

“You heard me, we talked about my sex life, or lack thereof, earlier now it’s your turn. When’s the last time you did the horizontal mambo?”

Tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt Liam shook his head, blushing. “I am not discussing this with you.”

“Oh come on, it’s been what, a year since you and that model bird called it quits? You’re telling me there hasn’t been anyone since?” Louis asked with a dubious eye roll, setting his bowl on the couch cushion between them and turned to face Liam, causing him to sigh loudly.

“There’s been a few.” He concedes but offered nothing more.

“Harry mentioned you and Grimshaw?” Louis pressed, leaning forward curious.

Liam drew back in surprise. “Grimmy? Oh yeah, it was super brief.” He admonished, feeling a bit brave at the way Louis now seemed to hang on his every word. “Literally did nothing but shag…being with Sophia for four years, you could say I was a bit eager to be with a man again.”

“Have you always been bisexual then?”

Liam nodded. “Ever since I was fifteen,” and in a burst of courage adds, “you?”

If Louis is surprised by the question he doesn’t show it, just pulls a face. “Never been attracted to a girl a day in my life.”

“You say that like girls have the plague.” Liam laughs, eyes crinkling up in that adorable way they do and Louis joins him.

“Not the plague but I’ve heard rumors about cooties.” That sets Liam off again giggling into his hand and tilting to the side a bit, Louis smiles feeling quite proud of himself for it. “No, I’ve just never really fancied them, simple as that.”

“I get that, I’ve never been attracted to suede couches so…”

Louis' jaw drops horrified until he catches Liam’s smile and shakes his head slowly at him. “You’re a sad, strange little man.”

Liam’s laughter cuts off abruptly as he gives Louis a strange look almost like awe. “Did you just quote Buzz Lightyear to me?”

“Maybe.” Louis answers impishly, causing a slow smile to spread across Liam’s face and before Louis can stop him Liam’s reaching out to grip both of Louis' hands in his own.

“Did we just become friends?” Rolling his eyes Louis can’t keep the smile off his own face but manages a clipped:

“Bite your tongue, Liam Payne.”

“Oh my god, I’m literally choking on all the sexual tension in here.” They both turn to see Niall shuffle out his room.

“He lives!!!” Louis jokes and gets a one-finger salute for his troubles.

“Dude, I’ve been awake this whole time catching up on the X factor on my laptop, didn’t want to come out here and interrupt.” He says with a knowing grin, eyeing heir clasped hands.

“Interrupt?” Liam asks completely clueless as he lets Louis’ hands drop to his lap, missing Louis' frown of disappointment.

“You watch X factor? Whom’re you rooting for?” He called out to Niall, who’d disappeared into the kitchen.

“Can I have the rest of this?” Niall asks, no doubt referring to what was left of the mac n cheese.

“Sure babe.” Liam calls back, then after a few too many seconds of silence he rolls his eyes. “Did you want me to heat it up for you?” He adds, already getting to his feet just in time for Niall to come skipping out the kitchen and fling himself over the back of the couch.

“Yes, please.” He chirped, giving Liam his most winning smile, to Louis he said, “My bets on the girl with the lavender hair taking it all—the voice on that one’s insane.”

***

Months go by and the five of them grow closer and reluctantly Louis has to admit that they’ve become something like mates now, even though they dragged their feet—giving it a valiant effort, but it’s hard to maintain the front that they can’t stand each other when two of their mates were already making jokes about tying the knot. The five of them did just about everything together when Liam wasn’t away for a match or busy with Rovers obligations.

However close the two have become, Louis hasn’t let their friendship get in the way of his fun. He still attends every home game and is still very vocal when the team messes up or isn’t playing up to par, though it’s no longer done in malice but in jest, taking on a lighter tone that is usually accompanied by a smile to take some of the sting out of his words.

Something else that has changed is the way Liam reacts to Louis’ taunts now, often snarking back and sharing secret looks with him. Unfortunately the way the rest of the team handles Louis hasn’t changed at all. They still glare and roll their eyes when he cups his hands and screeches out to them about a block they missed or a shitty pass someone’s made, not at all seeing the humor in Louis' words.

Things come to ahead when the Rovers take a brutal beating of 4-nil, courtesy of Cardiff, and the last thing the lads need to hear is Louis’ wise ass cracks as they make their way down the tunnel to the locker rooms, but that doesn’t stop Louis from tearing into them one by one as they pass him by, some snarl back—spitting out what they thought of him before continuing on.

One player in particular Liam notes from where he’s still on the field shaking hands with the refs. Number 11, Samuels looks like he’s about to get into it with Louis, their faces close and when whatever he says makes Louis go completely white in the face—backing away as if afraid before Andy finally walks away.

“Hey what was that about?” Liam asks, his brow furrowed with worry. Louis is slow to respond as if lost in thought.

“Huh? Oh nothing…just the usual.” He admits with a shrug, as if to say ‘all in a day’s work’.

“Are you sure?” Liam presses, reaching a hand up but realizing too late that he’s too far to make contact; Louis takes pity and reaches down the rest of the way to pat his hand reassuringly.

“Yeah man, the big baby didn’t take kindly to me calling him out, you know how it goes.”

“Well you were extra poncey tonight…kicking us when we’re down.” He chastises but his tone says he’s not too upset about it.

“Wouldn’t be done if you’d won like you were meant to—like I know you can.”

Liam hums his agreement, letting the subject drop for now. “You guys gonna wait around?”

“Niall wants to go to Bressie’s so I thought I’d wait and drive over with you.”

“Sounds good to me, I’ll try to be quick then.”  With that he scampers down the hall in a rush to get out of here, because after such a huge loss, an ice-cold beer sounded like heaven.

***

Entering the locker room he’s already got his jersey up and over his head, planning to hop in the shower and go when he notices a couple of the guys have formed a little circle in the back corner with Samuels standing in the middle, talking heatedly about something, his arms swinging all over the place as he speaks and decides to move closer to see what’s eating him.

“The fucking nerve of him sayin' that shite about me, about us…what does he even know about professional footie? Just because he has the odd kick about with his mates and writes that shitty blog of his doesn’t mean he knows fuck all about actually playing. He’s just some pain in the arse pouf mouthing off is all!”

Liam freezes as the other players grumble concurringly because he knows they’ve got to be talking about Louis and he doesn’t appreciate their tone or approve any of his teammates making such vulgar homophobic slurs.

“I wish someone would just shut him up already.” Irwin pipes up and Andy sneers.

“I got somethin’ that’ll shut ‘im up right here.” He says, grabbing his crotch and crudely shaking it at his teammates. Liam’s heard just about enough of this and stomps over to break their circle up.

“Payno! We were just—“ Andy starts to speak but before he can finish his sentence Liam pulls his arm back and clocks him right in the face.

“Fuck, what was that for?” Andy cries, bringing a hand up to his now bleeding mouth.

“I know what ‘you were just’ mate, and you’re way out of line, we don’t talk about fans that way!”

“I know that.” Andy says in disbelief. “But Liam, you have to admit he’s not just any fan.”

“That’s right he’s also my friend and you’re not going to talk that way about him…that goes for all of you!” He said, tone cold, a complete contrast to the fire in his eyes as he points at each of them, staring them down.

“How can you be friends with that wanker, he gives you the most shit out of all of us.” Number 57 Clifford points out, looking miffed at being told off like a bloody child.

 “That’s right he does and if I can turn the other cheek so can you.”

“Oh I see what it is.” Andy says slowly, as if he possesses some great insight.

“And what’s that?” Liam asks a challenge in his voice as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re fucking him.”

Again there’s no warming when Liam throws a second punch, this time catching Samuels in the eye. Andy retaliates by rushing at Liam taking him to the ground; they roll around for a bit while their teammates watched on cheering for one or the other until coach comes barreling out of his office looking like he’s out for blood.

“That’s enough! Payne in my office…NOW!” Throwing the blonde one final glare Liam stands and follows coach to his office.

Before the door is even fully closed behind him Liam is already defending himself: “Coach, Samuels got way out of line about a fan and I—” Coach raises a hand to cut him off.

“Took things into your own hands instead of coming to me about it.” Liam bit his lip and nodded.

“Well yeah, I guess I let my emotions get the best of me but he—“ Coach cuts him off again.

“That’s unfortunate, because if you’d come to me I could’ve done something about it but I can’t have my players getting physical with one another. My hands are tied here, Liam, I’m going to have to bench you for two games for misconduct and there will probably be a fine once I report this to the general manager.”

“But coach…” Liam tries a final time to explain, knowing that if coach only knew the type of things Andy had said  - never mind that they were said about a fan - then he’d be on Liam’s side that he’d understand why Liam did what he did but the coach isn’t having it and instead dismisses him.

“I’m sorry son, now go hit the showers and no more fighting...close the door behind ya.” Hanging his head, Liam nods obediently.

“Yes sir.”

***

He showers in record time and storms out the locker room without talking to anyone. When he emerges from the building he finds Louis there waiting, sitting cross legged on the hood of his car, he lights up when he spots Liam, his smile slowly disappearing as he takes in the set of Liam’s shoulders and the closed off look on his face.

“Liam?” He calls out to him when he walks right passed him—continuing to his own car.

“LIAM!!!” He screams a second time making his way over but Liam takes off before he can get there.

***

For the next week he manages to avoid Louis and his mates and even keeps interaction with Niall to a minimum, since all the blonde seems to want to do it talk about why he stood them up after the game, and won’t answer or return any of Louis' calls. Thankfully after the first few times he’d dodged said questions, Niall had gotten the hint and stopped trying.

It was the day of the first Rover games since his altercation with Andy and things were still tense around the locker room and Liam understood why he was the captain, their team leader and he’d turned on one of his own over a fan, and not just any fan, but a fan known for shitting all over the team, dragging their good name both on his blog and in person and he knew it wasn’t right, but he also knew Louis and why he did and said the things that he did—if the others knew Louis they’d get it too.

Truthfully, he doesn’t even know why he reacted the way he did. Sure they were friends and the things Andy was saying—what he implied about them made him angry, who wouldn’t be? But Liam was not a violent man, has never raised his hand in anger unless it was towards a punching bag. He certainly never imagined he’d raise his hand to a teammate, one of his brothers.

He’d just sort of blanked for a moment seeing red at the nerve of Andy, talking about someone close to Liam like that, someone the taller man didn’t even know. He hadn’t planned to deck him one but he knew he had to do something Louis was a good person really. He was merely passionate and meant well, for the most part—just went about things all wrong.

When he wasn’t heckling the team he was giving his little sisters and the neighborhood kids pointers on how to improve their game, or he was talking Harry down from a meltdown concerning the wrong shampoo and poodle hair or encouraging Zayn with his art by giving him his honest opinion on any and all of his work, nothing was ever done until it got the Tomlinson seal of approval in Zayn’s eyes.

Then there was Niall, who hadn’t known Louis very long but already considered him like family, Louis was a great person and Liam couldn’t let Andy talk about him like that, about someone Liam…cared for.

He arrives just in time for coach’s pep talk already dressed in uniform despite the fact that he wouldn’t see any field time and hung back while the rest of the team filed out of the room, ducking out after them with his head hung towards the ground.

The crowd goes into an uproar of boos and whispers when it’s announced that Liam wasn’t on the roster but Liam tries his best to ignore the talk going on around him, sitting with his back straight, chin held high as he readies to root his team on.

Twenty minutes in he becomes aware of Louis, who’s moved down the stands from his usual seat to sit just behind Liam, trying to get his attention. Asking him what’s going on, wondering why Liam isn’t playing—if he’s alright. The concern in his voice makes something catch in Liam’s throat and he finds himself swallowing thickly as he dutifully ignores him, staring straight ahead without acknowledging the other boy.

After while Louis finally gives up with a loud huff of breath and rejoins the boys in their usual section and Liam releases the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding and tells himself he just has to make it through the rest of the game, that he can do this.

***

Liam really should’ve known better than to think Louis was just going to let it go, give him time to sort through whatever was happening with him. Maybe he might’ve done so a couple of weeks ago when he was just a fan and Liam was just a player but they were mates now—Liam meant something to him, more than just the fit footie star who Louis occasionally wanked to but someone who he worried about—something he’s been doing a lot of since the game against Cardiff.

He doesn’t know what went down in the locker room that day to put that sour look on Liam’s face but he’d be damned if he let Liam go on avoiding him, especially not after sitting out on one of the most important games of the season, something terrible had to have happened for the coach to take such a risk and Louis meant to get to the bottom of things.

***

Louis' leaning up against Liam’s car waiting for him when Liam finally slumps out of the stadium’s doors and it’s the last thing he needs right now, after the team lost yet another game and having to sit there and hear the fans turn on him, calling him a ponce and a coward for not playing, for letting them down as though he had a choice in the matter. His teammates refused to meet his eyes and worst of all, he had to apologize to a smug looking Andy in front of everyone just to save face.

He was angry.

Pissed at Andy, coach—himself and seeing the determined look on Louis' face is the last thing he wants to deal with right now.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Louis.” He says coolly, moving passed Louis to get to the driver’s side door but Louis moves with him, blocking his path.

“Who put the stick up your arse?”

“I’m serious Lou, back off, I’m not in the mood.” He grits out, his tone flat but direct, his eyes completely blank and devoid of emotion.

This only upsets Louis further, throwing his hands up. “Not in the mood for what? To be around me--To be my friend because I’ve got that loud in clear from the way you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now.”

“You don’t know anything.” Liam snaps, scowling. “Just go home.”

“So tell me.” Louis insists, growing exasperated as he snatches Liam’s keys right out of his hand when he tries reaching around Louis to unlock the door.

“I punched Andy, alright? That shiner he’s sporting? I did that…the cut on his lip? I’m responsible, are you happy now?” Louis looks taken aback by this, blinking shocked eyes.

“Why would I be happy about that? God, Liam, what happened?”

Instead of answering Liam turns the conversation around on Louis. “What did he say to you…the other day after the Cardiff game? I saw you two speaking before I came over and it looked pretty tense.”

Louis toyed with Liam’s keys uneasily. “Nothing just dumb jock stuff.”

“Did he call you a pouf?” Liam flat out asks, making Louis flinch which is all the answer he needs making him close his eyes. “Did he make any derogatory comments about putting his dick in your mouth?” Louis gasps and Liam’s eyes snap open to see him frowning.

“Liam, god no—why would you even ask that?”

“Because he did later...in the locker room, boasted to the lads about how he had something to shut that smart mouth of ours with.”

“That witless piece of shi—“

“But I shut him up instead.” Louis' mouth snaps shut with an audible click.

“You mean you, you hit him for me?”

Liam shrugs one shoulder, as if it wasn’t a big deal and Louis has to move to lean against the side of the car when his knees go a bit weak. “Of course I couldn’t just let him talk that way about you, not about someone I…someone I care about.”

Louis is struck speechless and for a few seconds he just stands there staring blankly at Liam then suddenly he’s surging forward, catching Liam’s mouth with his own, his hands tangling themselves in the longer bit of hair at the top of Liam’s head making him moan into Louis' mouth.

“I can’t believe you hit someone for me, fuck you’re so—so you, god, Liam.” Louis pants against Liam’s mouth, speaking in between wet smacking kisses.

“So you’re not mad?” Liam asks, reluctantly pulling away to look Louis in the eye.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve had the dumbest crush on you for ages now.” Louis confesses, turning his attention to Liam’s neck where he gets to work on leaving the motherlode of love bites. “I can’t believe you fancy me.”

Liam gulps down a moan desperately clawing at Louis' back as the smaller boy sucks a bruise into his skin. “You’re kind of hard not to fall for.” Louis whines in the back of his throat and pulls away to admire his handiwork.

“Fuck, I’m going to have to ask you to stop saying things like that because I’m finding it really hard keeping myself from jumping you right now.”

Liam shrugged, “Go for it.” His voice as calm as anything, though the look in his eyes and stiffness in his pants told a completely different story.

“Don’t tempt me, babe.” Louis warned, licking his lips enticingly.

“We could always climb into the back seat…”

Louis' eyes lit up. “Why Liam Payne, are you suggesting that we have car sex in the Keepmoat Stadium parking lot?”

“I’m not saying that we should not have car sex in the Keepmoat Stadium parking lot.”

“Fuck, stop, you’re confusing me.” Louis growled, purposely crossing his eyes. “Are we having car sex or not?”

“Yes!” Liam hissed, moving out of the way so that Louis could get the back door unlocked, throwing it open and immediately climbing inside. “Does this mean I’ll finally get to fuck that ass that’s been taunting me for the last two years now?” He asked, just as Louis poked his head back through the door.

“Mm yes but later, right now if I don’t get my mouth on you I might actually explode.” He promised before snagging hold of the front of Liam’s shirt and tugging him into the car.

***

“And the Doncaster Rovers take the win; ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to the championship!!!” The Rovers announcer cheered into the loud speaker, making the already boisterous stadium go completely mad, the entire arena was utter pandemonium, the team jumping around and climbing all over each other like a bunch of children who’ve had too much sugar, Hood and Hemming sneaking up behind their captain to douse him with the remains of the water cooler much to the crowd’s amusement.

Life couldn’t be better for Liam, his team was going to the championship; his best friend claimed he’s met his soul mate, his other friend is in his first proper relationship since he was in sixth form, and Liam well, he had his own personal cheerleader sitting up there in the stands, supporting him with praise and positive encourageme—

“Oi number eight, I hope you know that was nothing but a lucky shot! Me Nan could’ve made that hobbled down with asthma and a shoddy hip.” Grinning Liam shook his head and looked up to meet sparkling blue eyes.

“Thanks for coming out, the Rovers really appreciate your support…with fans like you who needs detractors?”

“Oh sod off.”

Love you too. Liam thinks and if it were possible his smile widens.

“You gonna wait for me to get dressed?”

Louis rolled his eyes like that was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Don’t I always?”

“No.” Liam said point blank because it was true, sometimes Louis thought it was funny to take the car and head to Bressie's without Liam just to be a dick, leaving him to either walk or hail a cab over.

“Well I am this time; I’ll be waiting for you in the car” He informed, glancing around them once before leaning in close enough to whisper. “...in the back seat.”