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key, he‟s coming—”

“Ow, that‟s my foot, you wanker,” Louis snaps, “get your elbow back

over there, I‟m not—”

The footsteps stop right outside the closet door, and the key crunches

into the lock.

“Fucking hell, Louis,” Zayn whispers, pulling frantically on Louis‟

arms, “hide me, hide me.”

Before Louis even has a chance to respond to that, the door opens and

the closet is flooded with light. Liam freezes in the doorframe. Louis

realises, suddenly and quite vividly, that he is standing with his body

flush against Zayn‟s and his hands braced on the shelf behind him.

Zayn, for his part, is pressed up against the shelf, one armed wrapped

around Louis‟ waist, his face buried in Louis‟ shoulder.

Louis stares at Liam. Liam stares back.

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“Right,” Liam says, snapping out of his shock, his face a bright pink.

“Hello. Sorry.”

He shuts the door.

“That,” Louis says after a moment, “may have appeared sexual.”

“Oh God,” Zayn says, disentangling himself forcefully from Louis.

“Oh my God, you have to go after him.”

“Me?” Louis demands. “Why do I have to go after him?”

“I can‟t do it, Louis, you know I can‟t,” Zayn says in a rush. “Please,

go tell him that wasn‟t what it looked like, please.”

“What do you want me to say?” Louis says, tripping over a bucket in

search of the door. “Sorry it looked like we were having a grope in a

supply cupboard, actually Zayn just set his own head on fire in a

desperate attempt to get your attention because he thinks you are

destined to be together and now every time he sees you he throws

himself into the nearest shelter like it‟s a fucking air raid?”

“I don‟t care, just please go find him before he gets too far,” Zayn

pleads.

Louis heaves a sigh. “Fine, I‟ll do it, but let the record show that I

continue to be the best friend anyone has ever had.”

“Yes, you‟re wonderful, I love you, please go,” Zayn says. Louis‟ hand

finally lands on the door handle, and he takes off down the hall as soon

as he gets the door open.

He manages to catch up with Liam in the next hallway, where he‟s

awkwardly checking the names on office doors, looking shell-shocked.

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“Liam!” Louis says, and Liam turns to look at him like the proverbial

deer in headlights. “Look, about what you just saw, that really was not

what it looked like, I swear.”

“It‟s okay,” Liam says. “Really, I‟m not going to tell anyone.”

“Well, that‟s nice,” Louis says, clapping him on the shoulder. “But I

promise you, it wasn‟t anything like what you‟re thinking. Zayn was

helping me look for some parts for a piece of the set for the musical I‟m

directing, and the light went out, and then I tripped and fell on him.

Promise.” Not bad, Louis thinks, for making it up on the spot.

“You don‟t have to lie to me,” Liam says, lowering his voice a little. “I

don‟t think there‟s anything wrong with it.”

“Thanks, really,” Louis says, “but I‟m not lying to you. Zayn‟s my best

friend, but it‟s not like that between us at all.”

“Okay,” Liam says carefully, and Louis can tell that he‟s not

convinced.

“Honestly, I mean, obviously he‟s very attractive, and pretty great in

bed from what I‟ve heard,” Louis stage whispers, and, oh, Zayn is

going to owe him so much for that one, “but I‟ve never thought of him

that way. Our egos would never work together. It‟d be a complete

disaster.”

Liam is staring at him now like he‟s not sure where the hell this

conversation is going. To be fair, neither is Louis.

“I actually, um, you remember Harry? Tall, curly brown hair, coaches

footy?” Liam nods, and Louis plows on. “He‟s actually, well, he and I

are. We‟re—”

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And, wow, he can‟t say it. Not even to try to save Zayn‟s chances with

Liam, even though he just threw out a lie as if it were nothing. He can‟t

say the word.

“Involved,” he finishes finally. “He and I are involved, you know,

personally. So obviously I wouldn‟t be getting off with Zayn in a

supply cupboard even if either of us wanted to. Which we don‟t. So.”

Liam laughs finally, and Louis exhales. “All right,” he says. “In that

case, I‟m happy for you and Harry, and I‟m actually going to go back

and get that spanner, then, if that‟s okay.”

Louis thinks there is probably a 95 percent chance that Zayn is

currently still in that closet, sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth

in the dark. Stall, Tomlinson, stall. “Yeah, the whole thing with Harry,

it‟s still pretty new,” he says, and God only knows why the fuck he

chose the exact line of conversation he definitely does not want to have.

“That‟s always fun,” Liam says. He‟s smiling like he really is

genuinely happy for them and not just being polite, and Louis sees a

way out and a chance to pry at the same time.

“Yeah, are you, um, involved with anyone?” Louis says, unable to

resist.

“Nah,” Liam says, and since when is anyone this upfront and honest

about themselves all the time? He makes it so easy. “I actually haven‟t

been with anybody since before I moved here. I was engaged for a

while a couple of years ago, but she and I ended up calling it off.”

Engaged. Liam is someone who once found a person that he loved so

much he asked her to spend the rest of her life with him, and then it

didn‟t work out, and yet he still seems to sincerely believe in things like

love and romance and being kind to people for no reason. Louis is

amazed. This person is like the human antidote to his cynicism. Weird,

but kind of brilliant. He wants to poke it.

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“Well, I‟m sure the person you‟re supposed to be with is just around

the corner,” Louis says cheerfully. It‟s really a shame that nobody but

Liam is here to witness his brilliance.

Liam laughs again. “I‟m sure they are.”

They. They. It could mean nothing, but Zayn is going to die regardless.

“Hey,” Louis says, suddenly struck with an idea. “If you‟re looking for

a spanner, you must be pretty decent with tools, right?”

“Yeah,” Liam says. “I love building stuff.”

“Excellent,” Louis says. “I was wondering, I‟ve got a prop door that

really needs to be rehinged, do you think you could show me how to fix

it some time?”

Liam‟s face lights up immediately, as if Louis has just offered him free

ice cream and pony rides instead of a chance to do some unpaid manual

labor while Zayn hyperventilates in a corner. “I‟d love to! I‟m pretty

busy right now, but if you can wait a few weeks I‟ll have a day off and

I can come in and fix it for you.”

“That would be amazing,” Louis says. Just for the hell of it, he adds,

“Zayn suggested you might be good at that sort of thing.”

“Did he?” Liam says, and Louis curses Liam‟s perpetually sunny

demeanor for making it impossible to tell if he‟s pleased at the thought

or just at life in general.

“Yeah,” Louis lies easily. “I‟m sure he‟ll be happy to have you on

board.”

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Liam nods. “Sounds great. I really do need to go get that spanner now,

but I‟ve got Zayn‟s number so I‟ll let him know when I get a day off,

and we can see about that door.”

“My hero,” Louis says, extending his hand. Liam shakes it and then

walks off the way he came, and Louis hopes Zayn‟s had the sense to

clear out by now.

Louis whistles to himself and meanders back toward his classroom,

shooting Zayn a warning text that Liam‟s headed back as he goes. He

immediately gets six responses in a row, all full of panicked question

marks, and he texts back crisis averted and pockets his phone again.

He‟s got a little bit of marking left over and some sheet music to copy

for tomorrow night‟s rehearsal, but he feels good about how much he‟s

accomplished this week as he packs up his things for the day and

checks his lesson plan for tomorrow. Even with Zayn in a state of crisis

and Harry cutting into his sleep schedule almost every night (whether

they‟re together or apart, which is a little disconcerting), he‟s right on

track.

He‟s just about to turn out the lights and lock up when he hears a tiny

knock on the door and looks up to see Harry, and his brain goes

pleasantly fuzzy. Harry‟s always such a picture when he‟s fresh from a

practice in the snow, and right now he‟s all pink cheeks and red lips

and curls under his wool hat, pigeon-toed and dimpling in the doorway.

Louis wants to kiss him warm.

“Hi,” Harry says. “Saw your car was still here.”

“Just about to leave, actually,” Louis tells him.

“I‟ll walk you, then,” Harry says. He leans against the doorframe and

waits while Louis wraps his scarf around his neck and flips the light

switch, and then steps out of the way to let Louis close and lock the

door.

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“Shall we?” Louis says, buttoning up his coat.

“We shall,” Harry says, and they set off down the hall side by side.

“How was your day?”

“What, you mean since you last saw me at lunchtime?” Louis says,

cheeky, and Harry elbows him. “Actually, it‟s been quite eventful. I‟ve

just had to convince Liam that I wasn‟t shagging Zayn in a cupboard.”

“What?”

Louis tells him the whole story, leaving out the part where he

mentioned their little whatever-the-hell their relationship is to Liam,

and Harry has his head thrown back in laughter for half of it. “Do you

think he‟ll really come work on the set?” he asks.

“I don‟t doubt it, knowing him,” Louis says. “He‟s not a real person.”

“Oh my God, can you imagine,” Harry says, “Liam in a, a tool belt or

something?”

“If that happens, Zayn will probably have an actual stroke,” Louis says,

already relishing the mental image. “Either that or he‟ll make it through

and then go home and furiously masturbate himself to death.”

Harry laughs again as they turn down the last hallway, passing one of

the dozens of bulletin boards along the way. He nudges Louis and

points at the garishly pink poster pinned up next to all the flyers and

announcements. “Maybe Zayn can ask him to the Valentine‟s dance.”

“Ugh,” Louis groans, rolling his eyes. “Don‟t say those words to me.

I‟m trying to block that out of my mind.”

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“What, you‟re not looking forward to our chaperone duties?” Harry

teases. “Think of all the young love we‟ll get to witness, Lou.”

“Think of all the vomit I‟ll get on my nice trousers, Haz,” Louis

counters.

“I think it‟ll be nice,” Harry says.

“You would,” Louis says, and Harry takes it in stride, grinning cheekily

at him as he opens the door for both of them.

The walk to Louis car isn‟t a long one, and most of the staff has cleared

out by now, so he and Harry can just cut straight through the car park.

It‟s just as well, because it‟s freezing as they tread through the thin

layer of snow and slush covering the concrete. Harry stays with him all

the way and then pauses in the empty space next to Louis‟ car while

Louis gets his keys out.

“Bollocks, it‟s cold,” Louis says. He resists the urge to nose his way

under Harry‟s arm and press into the warmth constantly radiating from

him, wrapping his arms around himself instead and bouncing a little on

the balls of his feet. “So, what‟s up tonight? D‟you want come over?”

“I really wish I could, but I can‟t tonight,” Harry says, looking

genuinely put out about it. “I‟ve got to do some editing for a project

I‟m supposed to be presenting tomorrow.”

“Your loss, I‟ve got hot chocolate. And whipped cream,” Louis says,

making suggestive eyebrows at him, and Harry looks physically pained.

“Don‟t tempt me,” Harry says. “I‟ve got to go be a responsible

student.”

Louis sighs. “I guess I can respect that.”

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Harry gives him a hug and Louis finds it hard to let go when he‟s

supposed to, mostly because Harry is a human space heater. He finally

does, though, and when his fingers fumble with the door handle a little,

he‟s sure it‟s just because they‟re cold. He drops into the driver‟s seat

and starts the engine, desperate to get the heater on.

“Hey,” Harry says just as Louis is about to close the door.

Louis pauses with his hand on the door. “Yeah?”

Harry takes a quick glance around the car park, and then he braces one

hand on the top of the car and leans down into it and kisses Louis on

the lips. It‟s just a peck, and before Louis really has time to respond

properly, Harry is stepping back and smiling at him.

“Bye,” he says.

“Bye,” Louis repeats automatically as Harry shuts the door.