Archive of Our Own

People probably wouldn't believe it, but sometimes it's actually a lot of effort for them, finding a girl to hook up with. Everyone assumes it's easy, assumes the band has got girls throwing themselves at them all the time, and all right, they do, but there's a big difference between flailing adoration and actually getting it to go somewhere. Because they can't just pick girls at random, sleep with whoever. They've got a reputation to uphold and probably a lot of people already figure they do indulge in the groupies but it's not something they want leaked to the press. They need to find girls they can actually trust and it's just become harder and harder over the years. They're pretty good now at knowing which girls to avoid, the ones who scream a little too loud and faint and get hysterical—and it's not like they have anything against those girls, just get worried for their safety mostly, but they're not right for this. They're the kind who will Tweet about it the next morning, or, god forbid, while it's actually happening. They have to choose the girls who are more chill, usually the ones who are a little older and have learnt how to contain themselves.

And it's difficult. It really is. Sometimes it feels like they can't trust strangers anymore at all, can no longer tell who's being genuine with them. So for the most part they don't even really attempt it, satisfied just hanging out together after shows, and dealing with the sexual frustration by wanking later, alone in their beds or showers and—it kinda of sucks, sure, but it's a small price to pay for how awesome their lives are now in practically every other respect. It's only occasionally that one of them will get fed up and find somebody, make sure the others think she seems reliable and then give into the urge.

But nothing about the situation is satisfactory, really. Most guys their age would think it was great, probably, and it's always talked about as this brilliant thing like they can just pick any girl they want and not have to think about the consequences. But it's just not like that, and to be honest they're not sure they'd even like it if it were. It can feel meaningless, sometimes, gross and empty the next morning, waking up to this girl who's essentially a stranger. They can feel close in the moment, but the mornings are often different. They feel miles apart, then, like they're from different worlds, and sometimes the physical satisfaction and relief can't override that

It seems to get harder with every week that passes, as they rise to even headier heights of fame and get recognised everywhere they go and they're under so much scrutiny that they have to be so, so careful, and it's—it's frustrating. They're so busy and it can get so stressful and they all need sex—to varying degrees, but they all do. When they go without for too long they start bickering more over the most insignificant things, making mountains out of molehills and that's the worst part, beginning to fall out with each other, because that relationship needs to go smoothly for any of this to work but it seems like it's the first thing to suffer when they're going through a dry spell. It's probably because they're around each other very nearly constantly; it's just natural to take out their frustration on one another even if they absolutely don't want or mean to.

It's a fortnight into the Australasian leg of the tour when it happens, and that's probably not even that long but it is for them, when everything is intensified, when they get so much done in a day that every day feels like a week of its own. Danielle's wrapped up with work and hasn't been able to visit at all—Liam hasn't seen her for about a month now, and he's fully intending to wait it out but a part of him worries he won't be able to, thinks his willpower is going to crack if things keep going at the rate they're going. They've talked about this countless times and she understands, gets that she can't always be there and that he's in a high-stress environment and sometimes just needs someone to help him unwind and it's not ever, ever going to replace her. But he doesn't like doing it, it still feels like cheating, and right now he's so far away from her and he hates it.

There's a show practically every night and barely a moment of free time during the day, and he loves it while it's all happening but back in his hotel room, pacing around and buzzing with energy, that's the worst. It's worse for him than the others, because they all like to go down to the hotel bar or out to a club to keep the night going and party, use up the leftover excitement from the gigs. But Liam doesn't like that, doesn't like the noise and the crowds and being the only sober person there, but he doesn't like hanging around alone in his room and bouncing off the walls, either, and it's getting to him. They're in Adelaide tonight and it's way too hot; Liam is lying on his bed in just his boxers, channel-flicking at ridiculous speed trying to find something on TV that he can actually pay attention to. The show tonight was a particularly good one and that just makes this harder; he feels so antsy, wishing it hadn't ended, because being up onstage is such a rush and it's never fun coming down from it.

The others are all down the street at a nearby club, having some drinks and trying to shake off the excitement with celebration. They're in a private area of the place but they're not being too strict with it, too hyped up to be that bothered by the occasional fan popping through to get a photo or an autograph or say hi. And they can order drinks through, but it's Harry's turn to buy them tonight and he keeps forgetting about that fact and wandering off to the bar in the main area instead, leaving their bodyguard to chase after him and try to hold off the inevitable swarm of fans that follow.

The third time this happens, he's not alone when he returns. There's a girl trailing after him and at first Louis thinks she must just be a stray fan pushing her luck but then he sees the way Harry's glancing back at her, checking to see that she's still with him, that she's not getting lost in the crowd. And he can see—even from their booth several feet away—that look in Harry's eyes, knows what it means. Harry doesn't pick girls up anywhere near as much as everybody thinks, but when he does he's never terribly careful about it so Louis is instantly concerned. Harry thinks he's so good at reading people but really he's just so naive, he wants to see the good in everybody and he'll fall for a girl instantly if she just bats her eyelashes at him. He claims he can tell, that there's just something about her that means she's trustworthy, but more than once the others have had to intervene when they've seen the girl in question sneaking photos of him on her phone or texting just a little too much to seem innocent. This girl is intriguing, though, because she actually seems pretty calm about the fact that she's following Harry into a private area of the club and she hasn't got a camera dangling from her hand or a photo for them to sign or anything.

Louis nudges Zayn, who's gazing off in the other direction. "Who's that?" Zayn says a little sharply when he spots the girl, approaching them beside Harry now, smiling a little sheepishly and giving them a goofy wave.

Louis returns the wave and laughs. "I don't know," he says. "Someone Hazza's taken a shine to, apparently."

"Well, I can see why."

"What?"

"She's fit, look," Zayn says, and Harry and the girl are way too close by now for them to be having this conversation and remaining subtle, but Louis looks again anyway and he can see what Zayn means—she's got red hair (possibly dyed, he can't tell under the club's lights) and she's curvy (Harry always goes for the curvy ones) and her face is soft, sweet, pretty. Louis can tell that, it just—it sometimes takes him a second look to notice it.

"Hello, gentlemen," says Harry, reaching the table. He's got three drinks in his hands, clutched together, and he puts them down carefully, sliding one each across to Louis, Zayn, and Niall. The girl is holding one in each hand and she hands one to Harry, flashing him a smile. "This is Max; mind if she joins us?" Harry asks casually, taking his drink and sipping from it.

"No problem," says Zayn a little eagerly, shifting aside to make space for her—he and Niall are sitting on one side of the booth and Louis on the other.

But Harry gestures instead next to Louis, and Max smiles at Louis before slipping in next to him. Harry squeezes in on her other side, pushing her closer to Louis and—she's warm and soft against him and he's a little hazy with drink and, it feels really good. Better than it should, maybe, for a simple press of body to body. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and doesn't say anything and for a moment it's awkward and Louis feels his heart sink—he doesn't like the shy fans, it's actually so much easier when they're loud and enthusiastic because then he doesn't have to make all the effort.

But then Max elbows him gently and says, "Cosy, huh?" with a sort of dazzling smile, and Louis warms to her instantly.

He elbows her right back, says, "Don't be cheeky, we've only just met," and she laughs and shrugs, taking a swig of her drink, and all right, Louis is charmed.

He usually likes the girls Harry does, anyway—not usually in that way, but he just gets on with them, finds they often have a lot in common. So if Harry is going to get off with Max tonight he doesn't really mind that it'll mean he has to give up his room and share with one of the others for the night so Harry has some privacy. Sometimes that feels a little weird, almost like the girl is taking his place, but if he's spent the night chatting to her it's not so bad.

The night goes on and the five of them chat, sort of getting to know each other but mostly talking about mindless crap—it's always awkward at first, the talking part, because these girls usually know at least the main facts of the boys' lives even if they're not the kind of fans that know everything, and it can start to feel like an interrogation if they're the only ones asking the questions. They pick up on a few things though, like the fact that she's twenty-two and studying for a sociology degree at a local university, and she has several brothers and also several cats. (This last prompts a conversation between her and Harry about Funny Things That Cats Do, which lasts—Louis times it—a whole seven minutes and forty seconds.)

After a while, Niall begins to recognise a strange vibe in the air that's unfamiliar. Usually, by this point, Harry would be making his excuses and whisking the girl away while they all either nodded and said polite goodbyes or cheekily slurred at them not to do anything they wouldn't do (depending on the night's alcohol intake) but it sort of seems like...like Harry doesn't have any plans to go anywhere. Which is fine; they're all getting on really well and Niall's enjoying the chance to chat to someone new because that's always fun, but—he's sure he didn't misread this situation, Harry's still giving this girl the eye like he's really into her and Niall doesn't really get why he's not taking her up to his room yet, why he seems happy hanging around down here with them instead. And that's about when Niall realises that they're all giving Max the eye, they're all into her—Zayn keeps talking over Harry and trying to impress her and she and Louis are engaging in casual mockery like they've known each other for months, and Niall quickly becomes aware that he's got his head resting in his hands and he's been gazing at Max's face for at least the past ten minutes without even saying anything, just admiring the shape of her lips and her pretty brown eyes.

So. This is new. And he's not entirely sure how they're going to play it.

Harry has dibs. Zayn knows that. But man, it's not fair, because it's really rare for Zayn to connect with a fan like this in person so fast. He's the most careful of all of them, even though he's probably the one who hooks up the most. He doesn't like to pick the girls out from the crowds, prefers to chat with them through direct messages on Twitter to get a better feel for their personalities and be sure that he really can trust them. And it's weird, because he'll usually have to chat to girls for a while before he feels comfortable with them, but with Max he does already, and—he just really, really likes her. She's really sweet but she's got this edge to her and he likes that; she's not afraid to tell Louis he's acting like a fool and even though she obviously really likes all of them, she's not soppy with it, gazing at them over her drink like this is the best thing that's ever happened to her or anything like that. She's just kind of going with the flow, and she hasn't taken out her phone once since she sat down, and—this is just rare.

And fuck, it's been ages since Zayn's had sex, and most of the time he can get kind of zen about it, put himself into a mindset where he doesn't really care, but right now, talking to Max, he—he really wants it. And there's no way he's going to find another Max in this club tonight, or anyone even close to her if he's being realistic, so this just kind of really sucks and he can't help but glower at Harry when he sees the way the two of them are flirting casually with each other, him offering her a sip of his drink and her ruffling his hair when she points out how little alcohol is in it, teasingly calling him a lightweight. Zayn kinda feels like a whiny kid not getting what he wants but this girl seems special and why does Harry have to be the one who gets her? He feels bad for thinking of her like that, like she's some kind of prize or something, because actually it's not even just about the sex, he just likes her and wants to keep chatting to her all night. But he feels like that's gone on too long already, that any second now they're gonna be getting up and slipping off to Harry's room.

There's a lull in the conversation and Harry drains his glass, checks around the club and sees that it's starting to empty out. He told their bodyguard for the night to get their room more closed-off and not let anymore fans in, and then said he could go home if he liked, that they could handle it from here. He glances sidelong at Max and then leans in, taking a deep breath.

"Um. You're into me, right?" he murmurs.

She laughs, and finishes off her own drink, stirring the ice with her straw so that it clinks against the glass. "Somebody's presumptuous," she says, a little too loudly.

"Somebody swallowed a dictionary," Louis drawls from her other side, raising a wicked eyebrow.

She gives him a look and says, "Somebody had their cornflakes pissed in this morning," and then turns right back to Harry, and Harry is momentarily distracted from what she whispers to him by the thrill that she actually managed to outwit Louis like that—he can't even think of a comeback, just makes a face at her and leans across to Zayn and Niall to start chatting to them like he's pretending he's not bothered.

"Sorry," Harry says, dragging his eyes away from Louis, "what did you say?"

"I said yeah, I am," she says, "but can I tell you something?" She's biting her lip and it's all soft and pink and Harry really, really wants to kiss her.

"Anything," he says, smiling brightly at her, gone already.

"I kinda like your friends, too."

She's saying it like a confession, but there's a little bit of mischief in there too, or at least Harry thinks there is, doesn't think he's just hearing what he wants to hear, but he can't be sure. Maybe she's just apologetic that he's not the only one she's paying attention to, but it's not like Harry didn't notice that, not like that thought wasn't already sitting in the back of his brain and slowly growing into something.

"Thought so," Harry tells her. "Greedy."

She laughs and her eyes are bright. "Suppose I can make do with just you, though," she says, sighing in mock-disappointment. "If I have to. Might be a hardship but someone's gotta do it, right? Can't have all five."

The retort is on the tip of his tongue, agreement and the offer to take her up to his room now, but—instead he lapses into silence for a little too long and then their eyes meet and oh, shit.

"Sorry, what's happening here?" says Louis after a long moment and that's when Harry realises that they've all gone silent, not just him and Max, the others have picked up on the sudden tension too. "I feel like something monumental just happened, care to share with the rest of the class?"

Harry snorts, trying to call his bluff. "I wouldn't say monumental," he replies. "Though that depends on your view of a girl being with more than one guy at the same time."

Niall is casually drumming his fingers on the table and not actually listening properly but at this he freezes. Louis frowns, not happy with the way Harry has flipped this, made it seem like he's being so cool about this when Louis knows he's not, not completely anyway. He's pretty sure he saw the exact moment when this idea came into Harry's head and ever since then Harry's been fidgety with nerves as he tried to figure out how to approach it. Louis can read him like a book.

"Personally," Harry goes on, and Louis can hear the way his voice wavers a little even if no one else can, "I think it's a little unconventional but there's nothing strictly wrong with it. Society's always putting limits on this kind of thing but there's no real reason for it in my opinion."

There's another pause and then Max is cracking up, elbowing Harry. "I can't believe you, oh my god," she laughs, her eyes sparkling.

"Nah, why not, though?" Louis speaks up, trying to gain the control of this situation. "We're all adults here. If we're all willing, I say let's go for it. You only live once."

Max grins at him. "Well, that is my motto," she says.

Louis's instinct is to go mine too! and grin at her the way Harry has been all night, but instead he simply says, "Copycat," and then nudges her gently with his hip. "You up for it then, love?"

She hesitates, but only for about a second. "Yeah," she says then, decisively. "All right, yeah. Wow."

Niall and Zayn's opinions on the matter come in the form of them immediately standing up, and it's like a cue—Louis, Max, and Harry all follow, and they slide out of the booth. The club is almost empty now and the people that are left stay back, watching from the corners as the boys file out with Max in the middle. Louis wonders what they're thinking. He knows they can't possibly know what's being planned here, but even so, feeling all the eyes on him makes him feel a little flushed and kind of dirty.

There are more fans on the street and a few paparazzi too, waiting outside, but Louis doesn't feel too nervous about that. They can put out a story that Max is just an old friend who met up with them for a drink after the show, if these pictures end up in the press. It really doesn't seem that big of a deal, but then he glances to his right and sees that Max has gone a little pale, wide-eyed.

"Hey," he mutters to her. "You all right, babe?"

"Yeah, just—didn't expect that," she says, and the boys close in around her, Harry and Louis walking in front and Zayn and Niall behind so that she's guarded, mostly hidden from the cameras. The fans outside are a little more hysterical than the ones inside, and Louis thinks they must have been kept out deliberately—they immediately start whispering to one another and then calling things out and Louis strides confidently ahead, Harry in step with him and the others following behind quickly, trying to ignore the shouts and camera flashes.

There are basically clusters of people all the way down the road until they reach the hotel, but luckily it's not far and as soon as they're inside they all breathe a sigh of relief, heading towards the lift. Once they're inside it seems really quiet and bright and real, and Niall is impressed that Max isn't freaking out—not like he expects girls to have that reaction to being in a lift with them, but the fact that they're all heading up to a hotel room makes the situation a little bit different. He's glad she's so chill though, because Niall can get them all into trouble sometimes by not really caring quite as much if a girl gossips to a couple of her mates the next day. No one blames him, really, because it's hard to tell if that's where it'll stop or if those mates are gonna gossip to their mates and it'll spread. But it seems like they don't have to worry about that with Max, anyway.

"You nervous?" Zayn asks her, flashing her a grin.

"Are you?" she shoots back, and the boys laugh, and—okay, Niall can see why they all like her. She's so laidback about this it's kind of awesome, and he loves that. She's witty and can hold a good conversation just like Harry likes, and she's got just the right amount of mischief for Louis to be captivated—he doesn't seem like he's that sexually interested if Niall's honest, but it seems like he secretly kinda wants Max to be his partner in crime or something. And there's a bit of mystery to her too and he thinks Zayn must like that—the way she's unpredictable, not dealing with this in the way one might expect. Not for the first time tonight, Niall thinks of Liam all alone upstairs and wonders if Liam would like her too, and it's not like he thinks they should barge in there and ask his opinion but it does feel odd that he's not here for this.

They reach their floor and file out and it's deserted, thankfully. Harry leads them all down the corridor and Zayn figures they're probably heading to his and Louis's room which is right at the end—but then Harry stops suddenly, several doors away, and they all come to a sudden halt behind him. They're outside Liam's room.

"Uh, Haz," says Zayn uncertainly. "Forgot which one is yours?"

"No, just," says Harry with a shrug, leaning up against the wall just beside Liam's door. "Doesn't feel right to do this without him, does it?"

Zayn sees Max's eyes widen for a second and then she slumps against the wall too, running her fingers back through her hair and laughing shakily like she can't quite believe this is happening—and it's nice to see that come through, because honestly it would be kind of crazy if she were completely blasé about this.

"Are you all right with that?" Niall asks her.

She grins at him but she looks a little dazed. "Sure, it's fine. Liam's actually my favourite, I've got no interest in you four losers," she quips.

"Our poor delicate egos," laments Louis, and then, deciding they've reached a conclusion here, steps forward and raps jauntily on the door. For a long moment there's nothing, and Louis knocks again. "Probably having a wank, the poor sod. Give him a minute."

But then they hear shuffling from inside and the door opens, and Liam is standing there in his boxers with his hair all ruffled.

"Hello," he says, and then spots Max. "Oh, hello," he says again, and then, "wait, what?"

The first thing he thinks is that they're actually asking his approval of a girl one of them wants to hook up with, which is ridiculous, because—all right, they do do that, but they usually try to be subtle about it. They've never actually marched a girl up to one of the others before and outright asked for his opinion of whether she seems trustworthy or not, and—how is he supposed to judge that just from looking at her? She does look quite nice, though. She's not really Liam's type, but he likes the shape of her body, the swell of her hips in that tight turquoise dress and—god, it's really been too long, he never usually thinks this way about a girl he's literally just met. He blushes.

"Hi, I'm Max," says the girl, reaching out to shake his hand, and Liam is kind of charmed by that. No one really does the whole handshake thing anymore and hers is firm and sure, though she looks a little flustered, her cheeks pink.

"Liam Payne," he says with a smile. "Um—not that it's not lovely to meet you, but," he looks to the others now, "what's going on here? It's two in the morning, isn't it?"

"Apparently your friends are bringing you a gift," Max says, throwing up her hands in a sort of what can you do? way.

"Hey," says Harry, "don't say it like that. Sounds like we're objectifying you."

"Maybe some girls don't mind being objectified in the right circumstances," Max replies, nudging Harry with her hip.

"Hang on," Liam squeaks. "What, sorry?"

"Can we not have this conversation in the hallway?" Louis says, and then barges past Liam into the room, and the others all shuffle after him.

Liam stands there for a moment staring out into the corridor and then sighs and shuts the door. "Can we just—I mean, what's happening here? Is it what I think is happening? I just want to check."

"What do you think is happening?" Louis shoots back, quick, with a smirk, and Liam flounders for a moment.

"Um, all of you, and me," Max cuts in helpfully, dropping her purse on the floor like it's decided, she's staying. "And sex. I'm pretty sure sex is a part of the deal. If I've been brought up here under false pretences and we're just going to play Wii Tennis or something I'm not going to be pleased."

Liam can't help but laugh at that, and it comes out a little high-pitched because he's slightly caught off-guard by her bluntness. Not put off by it, exactly, but. Surprised. Then again, she's talking pretty fast like maybe she's just nervous.

"Only if you're all right with it," Zayn adds, looking at Liam. "I mean we can leave you to get back to your—" he glances at the TV and does a doubletake. "Are you watching Arthur?"

"No," says Liam quickly, snatching the remote from the bed and switching off the cartoon.

Louis barks with laughter but Max is smiling at Liam in a way that makes his stomach feel like it's flipping over. He's really—he's not going to say no to this, how can he? It's one thing to resist going out to bars or whatever but if the others are literally going to bring a girl up to his room—and a gorgeous, charming, funny girl at that—he's not sure what he's supposed to do. He thinks of Danielle, and oddly enough instead of the instant guilt he expects to feel, he finds himself wishing Danielle was here to meet Max because he has the feeling they'd get on quite well.

How ridiculous.

He clears his throat, and everybody looks at him expectantly. "Are you sure that this is—that this is an okay thing for us to do?" he asks. "I mean I know we've never been good with the whole boundaries thing but this is—big, even for us, right?"

"Yeah, but," says Harry, shrugging it off. "It's us, so I'm sure we'll manage. I don't think we're gonna be scarred for life or anything."

"Thanks, Harry. I hope not," chuckles Max.

Her accent is really cute, Liam decides, and gets distracted thinking about that for a moment and then realises they're all still looking at him, like they're waiting for his permission here or something. "Well, okay," he says in a small voice.

"Wow, chill out with the enthusiasm there, Liam," Louis snarks, and Liam blushes again, glancing at Max.

"I didn't mean—"

"It's all right," she says, and she gives him that smile again that's starting to make him feel sort of melty inside.

"So that's a yes, right?" Niall says, and Liam nods at him, still feeling very slightly hysterical but trying to remain calm for everybody else's sake. "Thank god, I really hoped we weren't gonna do this without you, mate."

"Niall, you sap," says Louis, but he pulls Liam close and then—suddenly there's a group hug happening and it's perhaps a bit too much of a passionate one considering they're not alone. Over the top of Harry's head Louis can see Max watching them with a mixture of bemusement and fondness on her face.

"All right," she says, and Louis can tell she feels like someone is going to kick this whole thing off and he admires that, even if he kind of wanted to be the one to do it. "So is somebody going to kiss me, or are you all just gonna kiss each other? I mean, not that I'd complain about that, but—" she cuts herself off, suddenly looking very embarrassed, blushing, and that's actually quite fetching on her even though it probably ought to just clash with her hair. "Jesus, sorry," she mutters, "have a filter, Max."

"Are you drunk?" Liam asks suddenly, as the hug begins to break apart.

Max laughs. "Oh, great! Do I sound like I'm off my face?"

"No, sorry," Liam says, and now the two of them are as flustered as each other and Louis is finding it hilarious. "I just—wanted to check, you know—"

"We're fine, Liam, we only had a few drinks," Zayn assures him.

And then what happens next happens very quickly. "Max, c'mere," Harry says softly. Max goes to him, kind of throws herself at him like she doesn't want to dance around this thing anymore and the force of it knocks Harry back into Louis, but—he doesn't step back, just watches as the two of them kiss, Harry's hand coming up to cup her cheek as their lips press together and then open. Louis is in a slightly awkward position here because he's about an inch away from just hooking his chin over Harry's shoulder, and it's all sort of—well, he knew this was going to be weird, but he likes weird things, kind of thrives in awkward situations if he's honest. This, though...this is something else.

Mostly because he's flustered, he hears himself suddenly saying, "All right, feeling a little left out here," and then Harry's chuckling low in his throat and turning around to look at him, eyebrows raised. Max laughs softly and takes Louis by the hips, kissing him, and, it's actually kind of nice. Even though she's pretty brash she lets him take the lead. She doesn't taste like lipgloss or smell too strongly of perfume, which he likes—actually, she tastes and smells strangely familiar and it takes Louis a second to realise, to make the connection that fuck, it's Harry. And he doesn't know what it means that he recognises that, and so quickly, and he shudders, pulling away because it's too much somehow, but she makes a little noise and pulls him back in for more and he can't resist, tongue sweeping into her mouth for more of that familiarity. It's scary and reassuring, both at once.

Niall is kind of hovering beside Louis, very aware of how close together they all are and feeling a bit stupid for it because, well, they're going to get even closer than this. But it's just really strange to watch Louis kissing someone, especially a girl and especially so close-up, and yet it's also kind of arousing because Max looks like a really good kisser and he wants to be next. Zayn is, though, unfortunately, and Niall hopes she's not like, going in order of favourites or something. What if he's last? He watches her and Zayn kissing, and then to his relief she's pulling him in next, and, okay, she is really good, but for some reason Niall just keeps thinking about the fact that her lips have literally just been on three of his best friends' and like, maybe their saliva is still in her mouth or something and the problem with this is that it's really not weirding him out and he thinks it should be, but—what the hell, they share everything else.

When Max goes to kiss Liam, she hesitates, and Zayn watches them intently, curious. "You...you have a girlfriend, right?" she asks him quietly, serious. "I just don't wanna interfere with that."

"It's okay," Liam tells her, "we've got—you know, like. An arrangement."

"Hmm," she says uncertainly, like maybe she's been told that before and it didn't turn out too well.

"No, they really do," Zayn speaks up, because like—Liam really needs this. He knows how badly Liam needs this. Liam hooks up the least of all of them. Barely at all, actually, because he loves Danielle with all of his heart and feels so rotten about being with anyone besides her, even though it's not cheating because he always tells her and she understands. But even though she's so awesome about it, reassuring him afterwards and occasionally telling him she spent the night with somebody too, he still feels awful and only does it when he gets really desperate, climbing the walls because of all the tension, irritable and getting stupidly angry at the smallest things like stubbing his toe. And he's been like that for days now, not just getting on their nerves with it but making them sad for him, too.

"Honestly, don't worry about it," Zayn goes on to Max, and before he has a chance to stop himself he's adding, "just kiss him, please," and okay, well, that sounded weird.

It's all the encouragement Max needs, though. Liam shoots Zayn a surprised little look but then Max is throwing her arms over his shoulders, and their kiss is somehow more heated than any of the others and Zayn wonders why, wonders if she wasn't kidding about Liam being her favourite or if he's just imagining things. He doesn't really have much of a chance to dwell on it though because then he sees Max's hand snaking between Liam's legs, cupping his crotch through his thin, baggy boxers and he can see the way Liam goes tense, knows he must be aware of them all watching.

"I don't wanna show favouritism here," Max says, glancing over at the others, and her voice has gone quieter, breathy, "this is kinda difficult."

"If you're gonna show favouritism you could at least show it towards me," Harry pouts. He's kidding, but he leans in close to Liam, getting in their space.

"Easier access. Liam's more naked than you are," Max says softly.

"That's the first time that has ever happened, I promise you," Harry tells her, and god, he's so smitten, she's so lovely. "Liam, are you hard?" he asks, because he can't see with Max pressed so close to him like that.

Liam almost chokes on a breath. "Harry, shit."

Harry's not entirely sure how they're going to manage this if Liam gets that embarrassed by that question, but hopefully they can ease him into things. "Just asking," he says, resting his head on Liam's shoulder, and his skin is really, really warm, like fever-hot. Liam sort of squirms away from the touch at first but then Harry looks down and sees how Max is stroking at him, and Liam ends up moving in closer to both of them.

"Yeah," Liam breathes out shakily. "Yeah, um. Really."

Harry hums curiously, watching. This is starting to feel a bit like a threesome, so he says, "Lou, c'mere."

Louis comes over immediately, circling round so he's on Liam's other side, and Liam sort of groans then like he knows already that this isn't going to go well for him. Zayn and Niall hang back, just watching, but Louis rests his arm on Liam's shoulder in an inappropriately casual way.

"Huh, you weren't kidding about the 'really' part," he says, "could poke someone's eye out with that thing, Liam."

Which really isn't fair at all, because Louis can't even see properly, Max's hand is in the way and Louis is clearly just trying to embarrass Liam here—but Liam is too distracted to retaliate, because god, Max stroking him like that feels really, really good. Feels like so long since anyone's touched him there and it's such a relief and there's heat curling in the pit of his belly and he doesn't even care that Harry and Louis are crowding round him and Niall and Zayn are blatantly watching too.

"Getting hot," says Niall and at first Liam isn't sure how he's supposed to take that and his heart kind of leaps into his throat but then he realises Niall is undressing and—no, actually, he can't quite deal with that either.

They've all seen each other naked before, countless times, but when Louis looks up and sees Niall pulling off his shirt, sees Harry take a step back to do the same right away—it feels different. It's charged with something, because this isn't just casual nakedness, this is stripping off for a reason, and that's. That's really fucking different. But Niall and Harry don't seem bothered, shucking their clothes so quickly that Louis doesn't really have a chance to think about it too much, he just knows he has to do the same because he's not going to look like the prude here. He steps back from Liam to pull his top over his head, and he kicks off his shoes and shimmies out of his trousers and he's planning to maybe leave his boxers on for a bit but then he sees that Harry is whipping his off and fuck, okay, fine.

Zayn is chuckling to himself like he can't quite believe they're doing this, as he gets his kit off too, and Max is tugging gently at the waistband of Liam's pants and when he nods shakily at her she drags them down all the way and Louis tries really hard not to watch but he's fixated. Max pulls the elastic carefully down over Liam's erection, revealing it slowly and oh, okay, apparently Liam is a hell of a lot bigger when he's hard, which isn't information that Louis ever thought he would know. It feels a lot different standing so close to Liam now, he feels sort of vulnerable, even though they're both naked, and Liam's the one who's got a stiffy. He just kind of stands there awkwardly like they all are—except for Harry who's gone back to resting on Liam's shoulder like it's no big deal—and watches as Max takes Liam into her hand. Her hand looks really small around him, her nails painted with sparkly purple polish that's a little chipped and her fingers pretty deft and quick, making Liam's abs tense up as she works him over, leaning back in to kiss him, soft.

Louis desperately tries to think of something to say, something jokey and dumb because he's really aware of how quiet everything is, but it's all just—narrowed down to nothing but Liam getting a handjob in front of them and he feels dazed by it. He's hard too, before he even realises it, but a quick glance tells him the others are getting there as well and that makes him feel better. He just keeps staring at Liam, staring at Max's fingers curled around him, unable to stop himself, until suddenly Max chuckles, her voice shaky as she says "I'm leaving everyone else out, sorry, this is—I don't know how this is supposed to work—"

And then fuck, suddenly her hand is around Louis, and Louis actually jolts a little with surprise, at being changed so abruptly from a spectator into a participant. Then he jolts again, because he looks across and sees that she's taken Harry in her other hand, and something about that knocks him off his feet a little. Max is pretty casual about it, stroking them both in an easy rhythm and gently leaning in against Liam's chest, pressing her lips to his skin while he holds her in close at the small of her back, rocking his hips gently so his cock moves against her stomach, rucking up her dress. But Louis—Louis can't concentrate on anything but the fact that he and Harry are getting jerked off at the same time right now. He doesn't want to watch because that feels stranger than watching Liam, even though he has actually seen Harry's cock hard before—Harry walks around naked so much that it was bound to happen, he's seen many a morning erection and he walked in on him wanking a couple of times back when they first started living together but this, this. It's actually too much and he feels pathetic for being the first one to freak out but he can't help it.

"Maybe one at a time, babe," he hears himself saying and his voice sounds way more tight and tense than he means for it to.

"Well, sorry for not being ambidextrous," Max teases, but it's gentle and she does let go of him.

"Speak for yourself, mate, can we get in on this?" comes Zayn's voice, and Max laughs, pushing her hair back from her eyes and letting go of Harry, too, patting him gently when he makes a little regretful sound at the loss of friction.

She turns away from them and Niall watches as she takes the couple of steps necessary to reach him and Zayn, leans in and kisses them both a second time before taking each one into her hands. Niall sighs with relief, bucking his hips gently to push through her curled fist and knocks gently against Zayn, the two of them swaying a little into each other. For a second Niall sees the other three hesitating, standing there awkwardly watching—which is fine, because that's what he and Zayn were having to do a moment ago, one girl amongst five is bound to lead to that sort of thing—but then Liam steps forward, presses himself against Max and makes her gasp a little against Zayn's chest. Liam is pulling up her dress, Niall thinks, which is pretty bold of him.

"Max, um, can I—" Liam murmurs then and Niall doesn't think he's ever heard his voice sound like that before, thick somehow, heavy. But then he remembers that one time he dropped by Liam's hotel room unexpectedly and he heard voices coming from inside and he thought maybe Liam was doing a twitcam, and then when Liam let him in he was flustered and pink-cheeked and his laptop was shut and his voice sounded a lot like it does now. At the time Niall assumed that it had something to do with Danielle and Skype and probably masturbating and he's pleased to discover that he was right, because this is clearly Liam's Sex Voice.

"Yeah, please," Max breathes, pushing back against him and opening her legs a little, letting Liam slip his hand into her knickers from behind and cup her pussy.

Zayn tries not to think about this, tries not to watch Liam leaning in and dipping his head to kiss Max's neck while he strokes at her, makes her breathing go stuttery and the rhythm of her hand around Zayn's cock change just a bit. He looks across to Harry and Louis instead, grinning when he sees them just standing there like idiots. Harry meets his eyes and makes a face, and Zayn tries to laugh but it comes out sort of choked. They're all so fucking close to each other, he can feel Liam's hot breath, smell him, and Niall is still bumping into his side, apparently unable to keep steady on his feet while he's being wanked off.

Harry steps forward decisively, joining the strange huddle the four of them seem to have created, nudging Liam gently aside and—it's hard to tell at first but Zayn is pretty sure he's getting his hand into Max's knickers as well.

"Haz," Liam hisses, and Zayn tries really hard not to think about Harry's hand over Liam's, fingers pushing past Liam's so he can touch Max's skin, feel how wet she is. Max moans, but then Liam is making a slightly cross little face and withdrawing his hand, bringing it up to cup at Max's breasts through her dress instead, finding her nipples and gently rubbing at them with his fingertips.

It's very distracting, all of it, but Zayn's still aware that Louis is just standing there—he's leaning back against the wall now with his arms crossed like he's trying to look nonchalant about it, smirking, and he doesn't look like he particularly minds watching but it definitely looks like he doesn't feel the urge to join in at all. Liam turns, sensing his absence too.

"Hey, Lou," he says quietly, "if you go into the bathroom, in the red bag next to the blue one I've got—"

"Condoms," Louis finishes for him, nodding.

Liam narrows his eyes at him. "How do you know that?"

"Go through your stuff all the time," Louis shrugs, straightening up and heading into the bathroom, clearly glad to have something to do.

"Emergency condoms, aren't they, Li?" Harry says, voice breathy and mocking. "For all those emergencies when you just have to fuck someone."

"For all those emergencies when one of you lot just have to fuck someone and you've forgotten to bring your own," Liam corrects him.

Max is laughing, muttering something about how actually that's pretty damn adorable and they shouldn't tease so much, and Zayn appreciates that but he can't find the words to say anything, not with her fingers still steadily gliding over the length of his cock like that and Niall and Harry and Liam so close and so naked and so hard. They can hear Louis clattering about in the bathroom for a moment and then he reappears, a tattered old box in his hand.

"There's only four," he announces, shaking the box, and he says it sort of overly casually. "Not a problem though, I don't mind sitting this out." He tilts his chin at Max. "No offence, darling. I'm sure your pussy's a fucking wonderland."

He winks at her—god, Louis—and Max blushes, grins, shakes her head, and then lets go of Zayn's cock in order to flip Louis off, all in quick succession. But there's something in her eyes for a split second that Zayn thinks he catches, something like understanding or sympathy and—surely she can't possibly get this, not so soon? She can't possibly know, how hard this whole thing is for Louis, so much harder than it is for the rest of them. The truth is, he's not even really that keen on girls. He's got Eleanor, but that was a management decision because they felt the speculation about his sexuality was getting out of control and he wasn't able to shrug it off without having a steady girlfriend to get photographed with sometimes. It's not that he doesn't like girls at all, he's had a couple of real girlfriends and he's got crushes on female celebrities like the rest of them, can definitely appreciate an attractive fan, but—he's much, much more into guys. And that's a problem, because there's not a lot he can do about it. They barely have any male fans in the first place, and even though they all know that the ones they do have are probably interested for the same reason the girls are—attraction—they're much shyer about it, and Louis can't exactly just waltz up to one and proposition him. He's terrified of the truth coming out, of course, so it's about a million times riskier—the scandal of the others' hook-ups being discovered would pale in comparison to something like that.

He got lucky once—just once, in all the time they've been famous—with a guy a little older than them standing in the front row and singing along to all the songs, making eye contact with Louis regularly, and Louis got a little drunk after the show and bumped into him at the bar and when the guy hit on him he just threw caution to the wind and went with it. And he was lucky, 'cause nothing came of it—Louis was acting like the cat who got the cream for the whole next day, and then was quietly anxious for the whole next week dreading that there'd be gossip, but there wasn't. Since then, though, he's stuck to girls because—well, because it's easier. And the others feel bad for him, but he won't ever admit that he's not happy with it, says just because girls aren't his favourite doesn't mean he can't appreciate them and "hey, a mouth is a mouth," even though they can tell that he's unhappy with the arrangement, never quite as satisfied as the others are after the one-night stands, like he's still missing something, something he's just not allowed.

"I can suck you off if you want," Max offers, her voice suddenly very gentle.

"That would be brilliant, love," Louis says graciously, and Zayn tries not to think about what Louis probably really wants because it always just makes his heart ache. "So which of these strapping young lads gets to go first?"

Max is still jerking Niall off; Zayn glances down and sees her give him a little squeeze. He's all flushed right down to his chest, and sweaty, eyes half-closed and struggling to stand properly—Zayn reaches out to put his arm around him, hold him steady, just as Max says Niall's name.

Niall's eyes fly open. "What, really? Sick."

He pulls away to sit down on the end of the bed, holding out an expectant hand towards Louis and waving it about for a condom. Louis plucks one out of the box and is about to place it into Niall's palm but then at the last second, just as Niall is about to grab it, Louis snatches it away again, laughing.

Max giggles, shaking her head in despair. "God, you guys are idiots."

"We're distinguished young gentlemen, I'll have you know," Louis informs her, darting his hand about and grinning as Niall struggles to catch it.

"Distinguished young gentlemen who are going to fuck you," Harry says, his voice low as he leans in close to her from behind, kissing her neck. He's got two fingers inside of her and she's so wet for him—for them, hot and pulsing and getting Harry's hand slick. He keeps them stroking in and out of her, thinks about how he's opening her up for Niall.

"Idiots that are going to fuck me," Max corrects him, but her voice is a little broken now, her breathing coming more heavy and erratic. Harry doesn't know if it's from the movement of his fingers or the acknowledgement of what they're gonna do. Maybe both.

"Might wanna get undressed first, though," says Louis, and Harry is simultaneously disappointed and pleased—he has to stop fingering her but, they're going to get to see her naked and there's no way that could be a bad thing.

He slides his hand out of her panties and waits for her to turn around, makes sure she's watching him as he slips his two fingers between his lips, sucks off the taste of her. She says nothing, just gives him a bit of a dirty grin, and then they're all closing in around her to help get her clothes off, a group effort to get her as naked and exposed as they all are. Louis pulls her dress up over her head and the two of them giggle as it gets momentarily caught around her head and she's blinded for a few seconds, and Liam unclasps her bra with one hand and is very proud of himself for it. She has really nice breasts, Harry thinks—a medium size and one just a tiny bit bigger than the other, upturned, with dark pointed nipples. He leans in to lick at one of them pretty much as soon as her bra has come off and she laughs, sighs softly, and holds his head there for the time it takes for her to slip her shoes off and kick them across the room. Niall and Zayn tug at the waistband of her knickers and she stumbles a bit, letting them fall down to her ankles before she steps out of them and then she's flush against Harry, wrapping her arms around him, hiding her face in his shoulder for a second, overcome.

Louis strokes at her back encouragingly, soothingly, and she lifts her head, blushing. "Bit more embarrassing than I expected, sorry," she says, "stripping off in front of five guys, you know."

"You don't need to be embarrassed," Harry says right away, his hands stroking at the soft skin of her hips. "You're beautiful."

The others make noises of agreement and Max blushes even harder, shushing them. "Are you trying to say I don't know it?" she teases. "That everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but me?" She pauses, frowning to herself. "Is that how it goes?"

"Let's not dwell on that, love," Louis tells her, as Niall goes into fits of giggles.

"Good idea," Max agrees. "C'mon then," she adds, turning around away from Harry and tugging Niall onto the bed with her. "Let's get to it."

Niall goes very serious very quickly, as Max lies down on her back, pulling him in close, and Louis finally tosses Niall the condom. He mutters something to himself that sounds like, "Jesus, okay, this is happening," and then fumbles with it, tearing the packet and sliding the condom on while the others stand there and watch. He strokes between her legs—Harry can just see the movement of his arm, can tell that's what he's doing. "Did—did Harry get you ready?" he asks quietly.

"Mmm," nods Max, shifting to wrap her legs around him. "He's good at that."

"I know," says Niall, and then immediately flushes pink and turns his head to look at Harry, who stares back at him.

"Who told you that?!" he demands.

"Nobody," Niall mumbles. "Never mind."

"You guys know way too much about each other," says Max, but it doesn't seem like she minds. Her friendly teasing is cut off by a gasp as Niall pushes inside of her, sliding in deep, and the boys can see the way his thighs tense from behind. For a few moments they adjust, Niall thrusting in slowly and Max settling into it, her legs tight around his hips, her toes curling behind his back. And then Max is patting the bed beside her, saying, "It's a little lonely over here, do you want to—?"

Liam goes first, climbing onto the bed and lying down beside her, settling his head on the pillows, and she smiles, leans in to kiss him. Zayn follows, but instead of lying on her other side he goes next to Liam instead, budging him up a bit so he can lie alongside him.

"How about that blowjob, hm?" Max says to Louis, patting the space on her other side again, and Louis gives her a grin and goes over, getting onto the bed a little awkwardly next to her head, on his knees, while Niall continues to fuck her, his thrusts quick and shallow.

Harry hangs back, stepping aside to get a better view as Niall slows down so that Max can reach out and take a hold of Louis's cock, and—he feels like he needs to look away but he can't, his eyes fix on them as Max leans in, laps teasingly at the head of Louis's erection, grinning up at him. Louis smiles down at her but there's something shaky and uncertain in it, and Harry really hopes they can make this good for him, because he really wants them all to enjoy this, doesn't want anyone left out. Max takes Louis into her mouth, stretching her lips around him—Louis's not that thick but he's quite long and she can only take him about half the way in, wrapping her hand around the base to make up for it, stroking him and gradually building up a rhythm. Harry watches as Louis's face goes tight, his forehead crinkling as he tips his head back a little, mouth opening into a gasp of "Fuck." His hand hovers out like he wants to put it on the back of her head but he hesitates and pulls back again, pressing it awkwardly to the pillow instead, his other one lightly resting on her torso just below her breasts, fingertips against her skin but palm raised.

Harry reaches down to take his own cock in his hand, squeezing tightly at the base of it to try cool this ache—he doesn't want to wank to this, uncomfortable at the way the scene before him is making heat swirl somewhere in his gut. He's not stupid, he knows there's always been something with him and Louis, something undefined and different and stronger than basically anything else, but it's not something anyone's ever been able to put a name to, and he's given up trying because, well, it's been years now, they've settled into whatever they are, and Harry has accepted that whatever it is it's not going to change. And it's not even that he wants it to, really, because it's how they are and he loves how they are, but—as he watches Louis's cock sliding between Max's lips, slick now, shining with her saliva, he feels something prickling in him like if anything could shift their relationship into some new category, it has to be this. He watches, tries to swallow down this feeling, and then he suddenly becomes aware that someone's watching him, too.

"Hazza," says Zayn, "c'mere."

Harry swallows, dragging his eyes away from Louis and Max. The only available space on the bed is right next to Louis, really, and he can't—he just can't.

"Uh," he says croakily, and then makes a beeline for the armchair beside the bed on Louis's side. He sits down in it gingerly, eyes immediately drawn to the plane of Louis's bare back, the curve of his arse, the way he can see the muscles clenching under the skin as Max sucks him. His throat feels really dry, suddenly, and he tries to watch Max instead. He can only see her lower half, the gentle swell of her tummy, the way Niall is clutching at her thighs to hold them up as he fucks into her, and it's a pretty nice view, though he'd like to see her face as well, see how she's reacting to it—and then he remembers the way her face looked a moment ago, her mouth stretched wide by Louis's cock, her eyes closing as she worked him over and—Harry shifts on the armchair, hand going to his own erection once again.

Liam lies close to Max, feeling the warmth of her pressed against him. He's kind of impressed right now, by the way she's managing to take Niall's cock and please Louis at the same time, and for a while he just watches, appreciating it and sort of—keeping watch, almost, like he needs to make sure this is going smoothly. Not that he thinks Niall or Louis is going to hurt her, but this has to be kind of overwhelming and he wants to make sure she's managing. She really seems to be, though, and Liam reaches out to touch her, fingers spreading out over her soft stomach and creeping lower, through the pale downy hair between her legs. Niall sort of jumps at that, as Liam's hand inadvertantly brushes his lower stomach, but then he realises what Liam's doing and says, "Yeah, give her a bit."

Liam's fingers find her clit and he brushes over it lightly, trying to feel out how sensitive she is, not wanting to hurt her. She makes a noise in her throat, muffled by Louis's cock in her mouth, and she's tilting her hips up gratefully into the touch so Liam strokes a little harder at the slick nub, keeping his eyes on her so he can check her reactions. She seems just fine, cheeks going pink, sweat gathering in the dip of her throat. She's still managing to suck Louis off but Liam notices then that Louis isn't as hard as he was at first. He's not gone soft, but it just seems like he's struggling somehow, his face looks tense and he's holding his body awkwardly, uncomfortably, and Liam really hopes he can get into this.

"All right, Lou?" comes Zayn's voice from beside Liam; they're clearly on the same wavelength.

"Yeah," Louis says, his breath hitching, and he gives them a little smile. He glances down at Max, "Yeah, multi-talented, this one."

Max pulls off him, licking her lips and laughing, but she's clearly noticed that he's struggling a bit too, and she takes a break, stroking him instead, wrapping her hand around him and letting him buck gently into it. Louis closes his eyes and tips his head back, fucking her fist shallowly, his breathing heavy but steady, and Liam watches with something like relief as his cock grows harder again. Liam works circles on Max's clit and he meets Harry's eyes—Harry's sitting back in the armchair, fingers dancing lightly over his cock like he doesn't quite want to flat-out wank to this but he needs some stimulation. He flashes Louis a grin but he looks oddly overwhelmed too and Liam thinks it's strange, seeing as the two of them seemed the most laidback about this, the ones most likely to be throwing themselves into it. Maybe Louis wouldn't do it sexually, perhaps, but Liam's surprised not to hear more rude comments from him, surprised he's not trying to rile them all up, and he thought Harry would want to be much more involved in the action, not happy to just sit back and observe.

Then again, nothing about this situation is predictable.

Suddenly Niall is groaning, his hands falling from Max's thighs and pressing out into the mattress, fingers outstretched, as he buries deep inside her, coming deep and trembling. Liam's hand gets trapped between their stomachs as Niall leans forward like that, the weight of him crushed against Liam's knuckles and he can feel Niall's pubic hair a little scratchy against the back of his hand. He lets out a little surprised sound, but Niall is groaning so loud it drowns him out.

"Can I go next, babe?" Zayn speaks up pretty much as soon as Niall has recovered, as soon as he's weakly pulling himself back up and slipping out of her.

"Sure," Max says, and Niall squirms out from between her legs, his own like jelly as he gets to his feet and fumbles with the condom.

Zayn shifts around, moving from beside Liam, clambering over him to replace Niall, his knees fitting right into the indents in the mattress that Niall's left. Zayn leans over to grab the condom box from where Louis left it on the bed, and Liam is momentarily kind of transfixed. Everything has gone quiet, everybody thinking about the fact that this is really happening, Zayn is going to fuck Max right after Niall has—and then Zayn is closing in, guiding his cock into her, slow and sure. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside and he bumps against Liam's hand that Liam even realises he left it there, gently resting against Max, his fingers gone still. He pulls it back like he's been burned, not even knowing why, and Max makes a little sound, part pleasure from the way Zayn is filling her up and part disappointment at the loss of Liam's fingers.

She nudges him gently with her elbow. "Oi," she says, giving him a dazed grin, and Liam feels like he's hyperventilating.

"Sorry," he says, "sorry, sorry, uhm—"

He slides his hand back over her, forgetting completely about Harry and Louis and barely noticing when Niall slumps down beside him where Zayn was a moment ago. She's even wetter now, perhaps turned on by having Zayn right after Niall, and Liam's fingers glide right over her clit instantly, slipping down and suddenly touching Zayn's cock just as he's easing out of her to push back in—Liam's fingers dart back up and he feels his face go hot; he tries to focus on her, rubbing in tiny circles again but Zayn is going really fast, pounding into her hard and there's so much movement, slickness between her legs making everything slippery and Liam keeps feeling it, brief sudden touches, fingertips going from the softness of Max to the incredible firmness of Zayn, so stiff and hard. He's vaguely aware that Max isn't really managing to wank Louis off terribly well anymore, distracted by Zayn's hard thrusts, her fingers loose and rhythmless around him. Liam wonders if this is how Zayn always fucks, ruthless, and he thinks of the times they've roomed next to each other in hotels with thin walls and he's heard this sound, the sound he can hear now, a headboard being knocked rhythmically against a wall. He flushes. He didn't even realise what that was until now.

"God, that's good," Max moans, and it sounds like her accent is coming out stronger now as she's starting to lose control a little. "I'm really—I'm close, Liam, Liam, please," she pants, turning her head to him, her hand falling from Louis's cock. He nuzzles into her, determined now, rubbing at her clit and feeling the way it pulses against his fingers with her heartbeat. Her stomach muscles are tensing and she's grinding down against Zayn and up into Liam's touch, until finally she's choking on a gasp and seizing up, clawing at Liam as she comes and then shuddering, breathing fast.

Liam withdraws his hand slowly and finds that it's shaking like mad, even worse than Max is, and he looks up at Zayn and sees that Zayn's grinning at him, like he's proud and, god, they did this together, brought this girl to orgasm with a joint effort and Liam doesn't know why but that's blowing his entire mind right now. He only realises he's smiling back at Zayn when he feels his cheeks aching.

"Nice job, lads," says Niall in a sleepy voice, resting his chin on Liam's chest and grinning round at everybody.

Louis tries to grin back at him but he's clenching his fists and his heart is pounding stupidly; he can't fucking stay hard and it's so stupid because this entire situation is amazing, the kind of dirty fantasy people always have but never actually expect to happen in real life and now it is and he can't even enjoy it properly because he's so stressed out. It's not like Max isn't doing a good job because she is, she's amazing, her mouth felt so good especially considering she was managing to suck him and get fucked at the very same time. But he just can't, he can't get into this somehow. It's not like it's the first time, it usually takes him a little while but this is so much worse, it feels so off. And it must have something to do with the other lads being here, but he can't work out what. It's not nerves, not stage fright or something like that, he's so comfortable with them that it couldn't be. If anything, he thinks, their presence should make this easier, but they're his friends and he doesn't want to just flat-out leer at them all. They all seem reasonably comfortable with this situation so far and he doesn't want to risk changing that.

Max glances up at him, looking sympathetic, and Louis hates that, he doesn't want her pity. But she seems to realise that, trying to be casual about it, not make a big deal of the fact that he's gone soft even in such an insanely arousing situation. "Want my mouth again?" she asks.

"Yeah, babe, thanks," he tells her, and he wants to apologise but he doesn't want to draw any more attention to how embarrassing this is.

She starts mouthing at him again and he does get harder, grows firm against her lips until she can pull him back into the slick heat of her mouth and it's good, but it's—it doesn't feel like he's going to actually be able to come, he doesn't feel like he's working towards that, it just feels nice and that's it. He tries to watch Zayn fucking her, see if that helps, and it does a little—Zayn looks hot, his torso covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his hips working, and Liam's licking at one of Max's nipples, his pink tongue rolling over it and teasing it, and Niall is resting against Liam looking totally fucked-out and it's a good look on him somehow. He still feels like it's not okay, though, to be watching them like this when that's not what this is supposed to be about, and he feels—just—wrong for needing to perv over his best mates in order to make the arousal throb a little stronger in his bloodstream, when they've got this fucking fantastic girl right here and she should really be enough for him.

He's so busy berating himself that he doesn't notice Harry's gotten up until he feels him, feels the mattress dip and then Harry closing in behind him suddenly, a strong arm wrapping around his middle and a chin hooking over his shoulder. He sucks in a lungful of air so quick he almost chokes on it.

"Hey," Harry says softly, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice but mostly what he can hear is just the blood rushing frantically in his own ears. His heart rate speeds up almost dangerously; he can feel Harry's soft curls tickling his cheek and—fuckfuckfuck Harry tilts his hips forward and Louis can feel his cock, stiff and full against the small of his back, a hot ache pressing into his skin.

"Haz, fuck, what are you doing," he hisses and it comes out sharp and fast and almost angry.

Harry nuzzles against him and Louis digs his fingernails so hard into his own palms that it hurts like hell. Harry says, "Saying hi. Got lonely," and his voice is all rough and so fucking close to Louis's ear, and Louis is instantly rock hard in Max's mouth and suddenly that soft velvet heat of her mouth is blissful. Harry has fixed this in mere seconds, sending that off feeling tailspinning into something fucking starry-eyed and perfect and it's too much; Louis can't feel all of this at once.

He actually feels light-headed with it; he's vaguely aware he's making these weak little sounds but besides Harry, and besides Max's mouth, he can hardly focus on anything else. The rest of the room—shit, the rest of the world melts away, all that matters is the firmness of Harry's body curved against him, his familiar smell, and that hard line of his cock pushing into Louis's back, hot and insistent. He feels Harry's fingers stroking at his stomach then, slow and sure and encouraging, and Louis comes so suddenly and so hard he thinks he's going to lose consciousness—his hips jerk forwards and his nails cut into his palms, and everything whites out completely for a few seconds. Then he's trembling and Harry is holding him still and murmuring, "Got you, Lou," into his neck, and Louis's own breathing sounds completely hysterical and ridiculous.

"Holy shit," says Max thickly, swallowing hard and then wiping her lips with the back of her hand—or just covering her mouth in shock, Louis can't tell, everything is still kind of blurry and his body is aftershocking like crazy.

"Yeah," says Harry to Max, and he gives Louis a tight squeeze and god, the continued proximity is really not helping here.

"You okay, Tommo?" comes Liam's voice all friendly concern, and jesus, Louis almost forgot he was even there but now he sees him, propped up on his elbow and looking at him with worry in his eyes.

Louis tries to make words but he's still struggling just with the whole breathing thing, so it takes a while. "Yeah, fuck," he manages eventually, and he reaches up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his movement making Harry shift back a little—and Louis wanted him to do that, feeling completely hypersensitive, but now that there's that little bit of distance between them he finds he doesn't like it. His voice sounds all shaky and he tries to regain control over his own body, chuckles, "Yeah, wow, you lads are missing out on some pretty sick blowjob skills, let me just say."

Liam's face gives nothing away, but Niall—who's still resting on Liam, using him as a sort of human pillow—is grinning and looking extremely doubtful, like he knows it's not just Max's mouth that brought on such an intense orgasm. Louis prays he's not going to say anything, and thank god, he doesn't.

"Why, thank you," grins Max, though she's looking up at him a little knowingly, and Louis's just glad she's not saying anything else, god, so fucking glad—he's hit by the reminder that this is a stranger here, that she could easily make things really complicated with just one wrong word. They're putting so much trust in her tonight, so much.

"Zayn," Harry says, with sudden urgency in his voice. Louis can feel him moving behind him like he's agitated, jittery. "Zayn, can you—are you almost there, 'cause—can I go next? Li, is that all right?"

"Yeah, absolutely," says Liam, with ridiculous graciousness. "I don't mind."

"I need to sit down," says Louis in a small voice. He honestly feels faint, and completely stupid for it, but it's true. He extracts himself from the group and throws himself down into the armchair, and then sort of curls in on himself, trying to get his hands to stop shaking. One of them is stinging like crazy and he looks down to see that his nails did actually break the skin; there are two little angry-red crescents there at the base of his palm. What the fuck.

He's barely aware of it when Zayn comes, kinda staring into space, but he hears the long low moan and Max murmuring something sweet and dirty, and snaps out of his daze as soon as he sees Harry's moving, rolling on a condom and taking Zayn's place between Max's thighs. Harry's leaning down over her, covering her with his body, pressing together skin against skin and he's so much more intimate with her than the others were but Louis finds that it doesn't make him—it doesn't make him jealous or anything, he likes it somehow, likes how attentive he is to her.

Harry kisses her, licking into her mouth, hot and messy and Louis's in such a haze he doesn't even think of it until Harry says, "You taste sweet," his voice soft but loud enough for Louis to hear.

Max snickers a little, squirming against him. Their eyes are locked on each other. "Funny, considering what I just swallowed."

Harry's eyes dart up to Louis, then, so sudden, and Louis's heart jumps. "Not that funny, really," he says, slow and deliberate, and keeps his gaze fixed on Louis for so long that Louis itches to look away just to escape the intensity of it.

He wants to make a joke, say more like salty, actually or something dumb like that but he's literally speechless and it takes him so long to come up with any words that too much time has passed by then. God, Harry could taste him in her mouth and he liked it, and what—what's that supposed to mean? He watches in a daze as Harry spreads Max's legs wider and nudges his cock into her—Louis catches a glimpse of it before it pushes in, flushed red and shining at the tip and so big. Louis knew it was, but it's never looked larger than it does right now, sinking deep into Max's cunt, opening her up. There's an ache in him, watching Max bite her lip as she takes it.

Niall regards them with curiosity, eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Louis as Harry starts to fuck Max and Louis watches intently. He's not entirely sure what's just happened here but it feels huge, like something is going to change after this, and—he didn't really think about that until now, didn't think about how this might affect the five of them, how their friendship might actually change as a result of it. It's not gonna be bad, he knows that; they're just going to be brought even closer together, probably, but it's strange to think that's even possible.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks Max quietly, reaching up to stroke her hair back from her face and caress her cheek gently. She nods. "All right if I go a bit faster?"

"Yeah, you're good, it's good, you—" Max says and then cuts herself off, her voice changing a little when she continues, "you feel really good inside me."

Niall frowns. She didn't say that to him or Zayn, and all right, Harry's bigger than them but—it seems like she's saying it for another reason. Then he sees her eyes flick to Louis, and, all right. Maybe that's the reason. Maybe it's for Louis's benefit. Niall's stomach is doing something strange and fluttery and for the first time tonight he feels like something is going on here that he shouldn't watch, but he can't quite stop, resting on Liam and trying to shut his eyes 'cause he is sleepy, kinda just wants to doze—but he keeps flicking his eyes open again just to check how things are progressing. And every time, Louis is still staring, all curled up in a ball on the armchair, his knees tucked in to his chest, his eyes dark with something like want. Want that he doesn't know how to handle.

Max starts stroking Liam's cock, slow, like maybe she's sorry he's having to wait so long, wanting to give him something in the meantime, and Liam is making these little whimpery noises that are oddly cute and Niall realises after a while that he recognises them, that he's heard them coming from Liam's bunk on the tourbus before. He smiles at the thought, at the fact that they're all so stupidly close that they're not even really learning too many new things about each other in this situation. It's kinda nice. Zayn's sitting up by Max's head, and he's actually in a sort of weird position, Niall realises now, almost like he's keeping his legs tucked out of the way on purpose so that Louis can get a better view of Harry with Max. He catches Zayn's eye and tilts his chin, indicating Zayn's legs, and Zayn just smirks, eyes flicking to his right towards Louis for a split-second.

Zayn is actually starting to get cramp like this, but he can tell Louis wants to watch, is staring like he never did with the rest of them. He's not gonna say anything about it, not gonna make a big deal of it—he just leans back against the headboard and lets his eyes fall closed, tired, letting Harry do his thing. It's kind of interesting with his eyes shut actually, he can just hear everything, Max's soft whimpers and Harry's moans and the repetitive slap of skin on skin as he fucks her, and those little helpless sounds Liam's making like he does when he's jerking off in his bunk at night.

And then suddenly he hears Max's voice, too. "He's watching," is all she says, simple and not much more than a whisper, but Zayn's pretty sure the tension dial gets flipped to about a hundred in an instant.

"Mm," Harry hums, not giving anything away.

Zayn opens his eyes just a tiny bit, sees that Harry's right down over her, her legs hooked right around his waist, his face barely an inch from hers as he stares into her eyes. His hands are flat on the bed either side of her, biceps bulging as his hips thrust. Zayn wants to look at Louis, too, see how he's reacted, but somehow he knows he shouldn't, doesn't want to do anything to interfere with this.

"You like it," Max breathes now, and Zayn snaps his eyes shut again, his chest feeling tight. She's really taking a risk here, pushing things, and it reminds him of something. There's a long pause; Harry says nothing, but Zayn thinks he can hear Harry speeding up, fucking her with a little more urgency. "You like that he's watching you," Max whispers, and Zayn realises in a flash what's familiar—she's acting like Louis. He realised they were similar right from the start, all sparkly-eyed mischief and boldness, but right now it's more obvious than ever because this is exactly the kind of thing Louis does, pushing something even when he knows he probably shouldn't, just because he's curious and he wants to see what'll happen. And Zayn can't help but smile to himself because of course that's why Harry likes her so much, why he fell for her so instantly.

"Yeah, feeling his eyes on you?" Max murmurs, so quiet Zayn wonders if Louis can even hear.

Harry goes tense at her words. God, she's right, she's so right. He can feel Louis's stare burning into him and it's making him want to be better, making him want to fuck her so good, show Louis what he can do. He can't say it though, can't admit to it. He dips his head enough to catch her mouth with his, nips gently at her bottom lip, playful and giving her a little smile after, just a slight curl of his lips like he's telling her yes without having to voice the word. She smiles back, wide, and he shoves into her hard, making her grin turn into a gasp. She feels so fucking good around him, hot and wet and perfect and she's so gorgeous, looks even prettier like this, her hair messy and spots of colour on her round cheeks. He likes that she's keeping her composure though, that she's taking all of this in her stride even though it's so intense, that she can still tease even in such a tense situation and it's almost like she's playing with them, in charge of this. It's hot.

He snakes a hand down between them, holding himself up with the strength of one arm now so he can get at her clit, wanting to make her come again because she really, really deserves it. Deserves an orgasm for each one of them, really. He knows he's doing this for Louis too, though, wanting Louis to see how he can make a girl come—and it doesn't take long, Max is oversensitised already and in mere moments she's clenching around him, her hips bucking up and her whole body going taut. Harry lets out a groan that sort of wavers, she's so much tighter around him now, pulsing and fluttering around his cock and he feels like he's toppling on the edge, and out of the corner of his eye he can still see the intensity of Louis's gaze. He's struck by the sudden urge to return it, but he doesn't want to make Max feel like he's ignoring her, just using her as a prop while he explores—whatever this is, with Louis.

But then Max says, "Look at him," breathless, her voice hitching high. "It's okay."

And that's what Harry needs—he turns his head to the side, eyes locking with Louis's instantly, and that's all it takes; he buries himself deep and loses it, a broken moan torn from his throat, and he tries to keep his eyes on Louis but they close instinctively and when he opens them again Louis's are squeezed shut. He tries to gather himself together, kisses Max again and tells her she's amazing, and she gives his arm a squeeze and throws the compliment right back at him.

"Liiiam," Niall chirps then, "'s your turn finally."

Niall looks really sleepy and Harry chuckles as he lifts up onto his knees, reaching across to ruffle Niall's hair before he peels off his condom carefully. He's not sure what to do after that; everybody's shifting positions and he kind of feels like he's in the way and before he knows what he's doing his legs are leading him towards Louis, shifting him aside so they can both sit in the chair together. Louis's skin is warm and damp against his and the closeness feels comforting, despite everything that just happened. Or maybe because of it.

Liam has been aching for this for longer than he's willing to admit but somehow now that his turn is here he's too overwhelmed to actually do anything. He's not sure what it is, just—something about watching Harry and Louis, the way they have this invisible sort of thread attaching them all the time, apparently even when Harry is having sex with somebody, and the way Max quietly encouraged it, kickstarted something that all five of them have been tiptoeing around for years. He just feels suddenly like he loves Max or something. He doesn't think they've really connected, she's a little brazen and loud for him, makes him feel kind of nervous, but—suddenly he's so thankful for her courage, because she's done all of this with such ease, bringing them all so much closer together when Liam thought they were already as close as they could ever be.

He finds himself with his face between her legs instead of his cock, sudden, like this is his instinctive way of showing his gratitude. "Can I?" he asks, breath ghosting over her slick flushed skin.

"Wow, fuck, yes," is her response, and she reaches down to comb her fingers through his hair in encouragement.

He starts to lick at her, long strokes of his tongue over her folds and it's different somehow, and his mind is such a mess that it takes him a little while to work out that what he's tasting is them, Harry and Zayn and Niall, something sharp and masculine in the soft sweetness of her. He pulls back instinctively with the shock of the realisation. The full force of all of this just hits him suddenly, that they're never going to come back from this and he doesn't want to ever come back from it, and they're watching him now and he can taste all of them on his mouth—

"Poor Danielle," says Harry then, interrupting Liam's internal freak-out.

"Yeah, I'm not sure it actually counts as eating someone out if your mouth is on them for ten seconds and then you just stop abruptly for no apparent reason," Louis adds, and Niall and Zayn crack up laughing.

Liam should be pissed, probably, but the friendly mocking tone of their voices is a comfort, it calms him down and brings him back to earth and reminds him that the five of them can get through anything as long as they're together. He just pulls a face at them and goes back to work, finds himself chasing that taste inside of her, liking it, and thinking about how Harry's cock was just right here where his tongue is, how he can feel that she's stretched from it and maybe aching a little from his size. He can hear Harry and Louis muttering to each other and he's pleased that it sounds light-hearted, even though he knows Harry's probably telling Louis that Liam's doing this all wrong or something—he was so worried it was going to be tense between them but they're slipping back into their usual dynamic, worlds revolving around one another, going right back into that casual orbit like Max hasn't disrupted a thing. He knows in his heart that she probably has, but as long as it hasn't knocked them out of sync then it can only be positive.

He feels that rush of love towards Max again, and he wants to get her off, show her how much all of this means to them.

"Don't you want to fuck me now, darling?" Max asks, though, her breathing laboured as she ruffles his hair a little. "You've been waiting ages."

"I want you to come again," Liam confesses, flicking his tongue against her clit and watching as her hips jerk.

"You can make me come with your cock inside me," she says assuredly.

Liam blushes, and Louis says, "I wouldn't count on it," and Zayn chucks a cushion at him.

Liam sits up and reaches for the condoms, and she pulls herself up too, leaning into his shoulder as he gets the last one from his box—and he shakes his head, smiling to himself as he realises the significance of the fact that they're managed to use up all of his remaining emergency condoms in this one night. And then once he's got it on, Max is taking him by the shoulders, nudging gently at his chest.

"She wants to be on top, Liam," Zayn tells him, and Liam thinks oh, and lies down right away, his head on the pillows right next to where Zayn's sitting.

"Doesn't have much faith in your spindly little ruts," Louis comments, and Max just sticks her tongue out at him as she straddles Liam, reaching down between her legs to guide him inside of her. He sinks in easy and it's good, so good; he feels all this tension flowing out of him that he didn't even realise was still there, knows he's going to feel wonderful for at least a week now, on top of things again. He hears himself moan embarrassingly loud, and when he looks up Zayn is grinning down at him.

"Been a while, right, Liam?" he teases, and Liam can only nod and grin like an idiot—Max is this hot, tight press all around his cock and she's riding him, hands on his chest as she rocks against him, keeping him deep but giving him just enough friction. And it makes it so much better somehow that they're all here with him, even if they're making fun of him, he doesn't care—Zayn is grinning down at him and Harry and Louis are curled together in the small armchair, Harry resting his head on Louis's shoulder, and Niall is nuzzling into Liam's side again, already starting to doze off.

Louis grins at the look on Liam's face, the way he looks like this is the best thing he's ever felt in his entire life, and it's funny and oddly sweet really, and god, Louis loves them all so much, his boys.

Zayn says, "Does it feel good?" and his voice is strangely low, meaningful, and Louis knows he doesn't mean, does she feel good? but does it feel good to finally give into this? It's a loaded question, somehow, maybe because they all know how wound up Liam gets and it's good to see him let go.

"Yeah," Liam says, voice high-pitched, and Max is smiling fondly down at them, keeping quiet now, letting them all have this, these moments amongst themselves as she rolls her hips and grinds down against him, brings herself closer.

Louis leans into Harry, and tilts his head up to look at him and smile. "Doesn't have much of a technique, does he?" Louis whispers, grinning wickedly.

"Oi, you wouldn't be saying that if he was inside you," Max snaps, and—well, all right, she wins again, because that shuts Louis up sharpish.

Harry giggles, yawns, wriggling about and getting more comfortable in the little chair.

"I'm not going to be able to last," Liam says, his voice sounding worried and apologetic.

Max strokes at his chest, running her fingers over his skin soothingly. "It's all right," she says, "I'm—" her breath catches and she moves a little quicker now, with more purpose, her tits bouncing, "I'm nearly there."

Liam begins to buck up into her, spurred on, his hips lifting up from the bed, and then her nails are digging into his chest a little and she's still, then shuddering, then heaving forwards and panting. Louis cheers, pumping the air with his fist, and Harry joins in, laughing, and Niall offers a sleepy "Wooooo!" without opening his eyes.

"Are you close, Liam?" is all Zayn says, his voice with that strange tone again, pressing.

"Mm," Liam forces out, weakly, and he seems flustered, and Louis leans forward a little to see that Zayn is keeping eye contact with him, looking down at him, watchful and almost—adoring?

Max seems exhausted now but she keeps churning her hips for Liam, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and Zayn with curiosity. Liam is holding onto her, his hands clutching at her as he drives into her from below, and they see his fingers clench tighter and then he's gasping out, "Yeah, I'm going to—" and he comes with a whine, hips snapping up and then dropping down again heavily.

Louis cheers again and everybody joins in, ridiculous and exaggerated until Liam is laughing weakly and the colour of a tomato. Louis feels a surge of love for him in that moment, that Liam did this at all, probably agreed to it as much for their sake as his own. Louis pats Harry gently to get him to move aside, gets a sleepy smile in response, and then pulls himself out of the armchair to climb onto the bed and snuggle into Liam. On an impulse, he leans in and presses a wet kiss to Liam's cheek, and Liam squeaks and somehow manages to go a shade darker. All right, it was maybe a bit close to his mouth, but they all kiss each other like this all the time.

Louis supposes context might matter sometimes, though.

"Ughhh," he groans, seeing Liam's shocked expression. "Can we just go to sleep now and freak out about all of this later? Like maybe in ten years?"

Niall is barely aware of things now, their voices drifting in and out all echoey, but at this he manages a "Yeah, I vote for that."

He forces his eyes open and sees that Max is clambering off Liam and starting to remove his condom for him, but he bats her hand away. "No no, I'll do that, you can rest."

Max laughs at him. "You're sweet," she says, and then flings herself down next to Niall, leaning in to kiss his back warmly and make his tummy go all squirmy.

Liam gets up and starts pottering about, gathering up all the used condoms and disappearing into the bathroom with them. He comes back after a moment with an actual damp flannel, going round and mopping at them all. He goes to Max first, who laughs loud and open, offering her cheeks and her chest for him to wipe down. Then it's Zayn, who just grins at Liam sort of adoringly and sits back, lets himself be looked after. When Liam comes round to Niall, Niall is about to summon the energy to make fun of him for it, but then the cool cloth touches his forehead and he just moans instead. Louis bats him off, and Harry insists on taking the flannel from Liam because "I can manage that myself, I think," and the last thing Niall is aware of before he falls asleep is Louis allowing Harry to dab Louis's forehead with it.

"Are we actually going to all be able to sleep in here?" Zayn asks. The bed is pretty huge, but it still seems kind of doubtful, and he just hopes no one is going to have to go back to their own rooms because he really, really needs to be with them all right now. It would just feel wrong to leave after something like this. He remembers Louis saying I feel like something monumental just happened back at the club and he smiles to himself because yeah, actually, it did in the end.

"Yep," is Harry's only response.

"Will we fit?" Max asks.

"We'll make ourselves fit," Louis tells her and she giggles.

"We should brush our teeth," Liam says, prodding at Harry. Zayn knows Liam fusses over them like this anyway, but it's like it's been increased by the hugeness of what happened to them tonight—taking care of them calms him down. It's a fair point, though, and they do all keep toothbrushes in each other's rooms anyway because spontaneous sleepovers always happen a lot on tour.

"I don't usually carry a toothbrush in my purse," Max points out, yawning.

"I have a spare," Liam offers, and Zayn chuckles. Of course he does. "What? I brought it in case my electric one dies unexpectedly."

"Loser," says Harry fondly, and then heaves himself to his feet. "All right, we're going."

"Gotta keep our dental hygienist here happy," adds Louis, getting up too and poking Liam in the ribs.

The two of them file into the bathroom and Max follows, and Liam folds his arms, giving Zayn a Look.

"Fine," Zayn sighs, grinning at him and pulling himself off the bed. They both glance at Niall, but exchange looks and silently agree that neither of them can bear to wake him up. He looks so peaceful. Zayn just decides not to sleep next to him in order to avoid the morning breath.

He and Liam head into the bathroom and Liam elbows him gently, just a slight touch, getting him to look at him.

"Are we okay?" he asks quietly, just before they reach the doorway—Harry, Louis, and Max are all chatting in there already, Louis sitting on the countertop and swinging his legs, talking around the toothbrush in his mouth as Max gets Liam's spare one out of its wrapping and Harry pours himself some water.

"Yeah, 'course," Zayn tells him, grinning, and Liam grins back with something like relief, and Zayn pushes down some rising feeling in his chest, makes it sink again.

It's hard enough fitting the five of them into the ensuite, so Harry's not sure how they're going to cope with six of them in Liam's bed, but—when they get back in there it's surprisingly easy. Zayn rolls Niall over to the edge so that he and Liam can be beside each other, and Max next to them, and then it's Harry between her and Louis. They all have to be squeezed in very close—Liam says something about sardines as he reaches over Niall to switch off the light—but it's nice, Harry likes it. He needs to be close to them right now, after everything that's happened, and he sighs happily in the dark, facing Max and feeling Louis roll over behind him, curl in like that, spooning him.

He stares at Max in the dark, eyes adjusting until he can make out the features of her face, and he thinks about the fact that just hours ago she was a total stranger and now she feels like one of the most important things that has ever happened to him. He wonders what's next. Usually, after one night stands, they want the girls to go back to their own lives, to never meet them again, because it feels safer and easier that way, but—the thought of never seeing Max again just seems wrong. He wonders if they could meet up again before the tour is over, not to have sex—he doesn't feel like that's necessary after tonight—just to take her out for a meal or something, so they can thank her for this. He hopes she knows how much they appreciate it, how much tonight means.

And he's thinking about all of them, because this girl has brought to light something none of them has ever really questioned before, something about their claustrophobic closeness that has always made people curious for reasons they never understood. Maybe they just assumed it was normal, in their own private, confusing little five-person world, but—maybe it's not. Harry doesn't even know what it is exactly, he just knows it feels better now that it's beginning to be addressed.

The thought keeps nagging at him and it's making it hard for him to relax and fall asleep. He thinks the others already are, he's slept with them enough times to know the signs—Niall was out like a light already, of course, and Zayn's totally dead to the world now too, and Liam's making those annoying little breathy sounds that mean he's drifted off. Louis's breathing is steady, his heartbeat slow against Harry's back.

"Max?" Harry whispers.

"Yeah?" she murmurs sleepily, and he sees her open her eyes, roll over onto her side to look at him properly. "Can't sleep? Me neither. My body's exhausted but my brain is like—" she makes some kind of hand gesture that Harry supposes is meant to mean she's got a lot of thoughts whirling around in her brain. It's pretty cute.

"Me too," he tells her, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the others. "Listen, I just wanted to, you know...thank you. This is a really big deal for us, I think, and...I just wanted you to know. It means a lot."

She regards him carefully for a long moment, or at least he thinks that's what she's doing—it's hard to tell in the dark and he can't quite follow her eyes. Then she says, quiet and sure, "You should tell him, you know."

Harry's heart does something odd in his chest at the words. He feels suddenly much more aware of Louis curled around him, Louis's arm thrown over his bare hip under the thin sheet Liam pulled up over them all. "I know," he says.

"Are you going to?" Max asks gently. Harry suddenly realises what's odd about her gaze; it's like she keeps glancing behind him, and Harry's heart leaps into his throat now with the realisation that Louis might not be asleep after all, that she might be looking at him. He tries to keep calm, but the blood is racing through his veins now.

"He's," says Harry, picking his words carefully, knowing that Louis might be listening. "He's very important to me."

Max nods and says nothing, like she's waiting for more, and somehow it makes Harry feel hot and flustered, all of this, everything they've just done and everything they are and what might come from it, the future stretching out wide and scary and exciting ahead of him.

He smiles shakily, and his voice is shaky too when he says, "I don't know. Yeah. Maybe I will."