The party is already in full speed when Louis and Niall arrive. It's just ten o'clock, but they've been at Niall's place, having dinner. Usually on New Year's Eve Louis' family go over to Niall's, but the table felt horribly empty this year and Louis could stand it only for so long.

The party they're at is only a few blocks away and they walked over there, sipping from a flask with gin in an attempt to catch up on the drunken buzz. They didn't want to drink at their parents despite being of age, but they're ready to get plastered as soon as they get inside.

The hostess of the party is this girl Kelly. She's on the cheering squad and Louis knows her well enough. Her house is gigantic, which is probably for the best, because according to the event on Facebook almost the entire senior class is attending tonight. Louis knows at the back of his head that Harry probably will be here tonight, but he doesn't want to think about that. He's done pretty well not thinking about him for the entire break. More or less.

Louis and Harry almost never attend the same parties, because they never tend to hang out in the same crowds. If the football team ever gathers it's mostly for a few beers for an hour before everyone leaves to do their own thing. It's probably Louis and Harry's fault that the team isn't very close knit. Louis hasn't been feeling parties much lately either, only went to a few last term, and he doesn't even know if Harry has been around the people he usually hangs with. Tonight, though, Louis is ready to get pissed and not think about anything at all.

He and Niall greet their mates as they get into the house that's rather full. The kitchen is crammed, and they right away press through toward the kitchen table where people have dared to leave their alcohol. Niall snatches a bottle of vodka, finding plastic shot glasses somewhere and pours them one each.

"Happy New Year, Lou," he grins, raising his glass. Louis smirks, tipping the drink back. It's some Russian shit and it burns, the two of them making faces at each other.

"Another?"

"Another," Louis agrees.

They finally make their way into the living room after two more shots, and Louis spots Stan and Oli on the couch. They're smoking and Louis makes room for himself between them, joining their loud chatter. The music is blasting loudly through the room, furniture having been ruthlessly pushed to the walls to make room for dancing, and Louis can spot several pairs getting slightly indecent. He's pretty sure Niall is part of one of the couples. He's already pulling, and Louis can hardly deny that his best mate's got game.

"Liam!" Louis yells when he sees the lad coming into the room. He's looking good in a white, tight t-shirt that does well to his broad shoulders and chest, and his light jeans make his waist look incredible. It's strange, because Louis hasn't ever found him very attractive. Maybe he's a little drunk, though.

Liam comes over, bumping Louis' outstretched fist before giving him a hug. Louis whines until he does a shot with him, and in the Louis winds up sitting on his lap for whatever reason. It's nothing but friendly, but it's nice somehow. Louis loves being affectionate, especially when drunk. It was such a long time ago he got this inebriated, and the feeling is heady and pleasant. He's almost forgotten how great a good buzz can be. He's been too busy with football to let loose lately, and he tells Liam as much.

"I usually throw parties, mate," he answers. "Come to mine. Ed and Zayn usually come, too." Louis doesn't know who Zayn is, but Liam knows the good kind of people, he's sure.

"Wanna smoke?" Louis asks.

"Sure." He wraps his arm around Louis' waist, keeping him on his lap as he raises his bum to get his pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket. He keeps his arm there, lighting his cig and then leans in to let Louis light his off of it.

It's past eleven when Sophia, a pretty brunette, stumbles into the room, squealing when she sees Liam and sits down on his other side. Liam must look like a proper pimp like this, sitting in a big armchair, Louis on his left leg and his girlfriend on the armrest, legs draped over his right. Louis is way to hazy to be bothered when they make out for a bit. Sophia's clutching Liam's face, leaning into his side. Louis doesn't care; she doesn't bump him out of the way and she lets him sit on Liam's lap, head resting back against his shoulder. Stan may have offered a drag of his spliff and Louis might not have said no.

Liam's hand is warm on his waist and Louis' head starts feeling a little hot. Sophia is still sitting down on Liam's other side, smiling at him. Louis gives her a lazy wink, and she giggles.

"He's a bit out of it?" he hears her say to Liam, and he feels him shrug beneath him.

"It's fine," he says, and then Sophia gives Louis a kiss on his cheek. He turns to face her and she smiles, eyes crinkling a little. Louis kind of thinks she smells a bit like summer. Maybe he should get a girlfriend, he thinks. Someone who smiles like blue skies and pretty springs. And has soft hands.

"Hi," he says to her after a while, knowing he's probably greeted her before. Liam chuckles. "Your girlfriend is nice, Liams."

"Thank you, Lou."

Louis averts his eyes, looking around the coffee table in front of them. Some of the people surrounding it have been exchanged for new faces, but the ambience feels the same. People are smoking, drinking, just hanging back. Louis realizes he's probably among the lazy drunks. The energetic ones usually crowd the dance floor, and the rest mingle about, being a bit of everywhere. He wonders where Niall is.

"Where's Niall?" he asks out loud to no one in particular.

"Mate," someone says, who's sitting on the other side of the coffee table, smiling and waving. "I'm here."

"Niall!" he exclaims. "Bathroom, Niall!" He needs the bathroom.

"In the hallway, lad. Should I walk you?"

"Mm-hmm," he nods, uncoordinatedly getting up from Liam's lap. He thinks he feels a hand or two helping him keep steady. He feels Niall grab his arm, leading him to the bathroom through the half empty hallway. Most people are probably outside or upstairs, he figures.

Niall helps him into the bathroom, telling him he'll go back to the living room. Louis locks the door and then spends fifteen minutes sitting on top of the toilet seat, staring at his legs as he rhythmically bumps his heel into the fluffy mat. It'd be a shame to get sick it, since it's very pretty and fluffy, so he stands and goes to the sink, washing his face with cold water. Hands gripping either side of the sink, he finds himself staring at his own reflection.

He's been feeling very confused lately. Everything is very confusing. A lot confusing. Confusion. Exhaustion. Many things and strange feelings.

Somebody bangs on the door a few times he thinks, before they give up. Louis isn't sure what time it is, or how long ago somebody knocked on the door last, but he figures he should probably go out to the party again. He does, but heads upstairs after he peeks into the living room. Most people seem to have gone outside, but it's cold out and he isn't really feeling it. He finds a second bathroom in a corridor on the second floor, and climbs into the bathtub, leaning back. He has Liam's pack of cigarettes in his pocket he realizes a few minutes later, and he lights one, letting the pink shower curtain hide him.

He knows he probably shouldn't be alone on New Year's, especially not when he's actually at a party, so he brings his phone up. Hide and seek Nialll, he texts, grinning a little to himself. He'll never find him here.

Louis must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows someone is opening the bathroom door, locking it behind them. It's a guy, Louis finds when he peeks out behind the shower curtain.

"What are you doing?" he asks, voice tired, but a little less drunk. He feels more awake now than he has the entire party.

The lad almost screams, crowding into the opposite wall. Louis laughs, giggling. The other guy looks scared, but calms when he finally spots Louis in the tub.

"What you doing, mate?" he asks. "Scared the fuck out of meh."

"Sorry," Louis smiles. The lad's pretty skinny, but has nice eyes, he decides. He looks nice. "Hey, you're the artsy guy!"

"What?"

"Curly's friend."

"I'm Zayn."

"Exactly!" The guy squints back at him. He looks a little drunk, too. "Were you gonna piss?" Louis wonders.

"Yeah."

"I'll close my ears."

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head, but nonetheless zips down his jeans. Louis closes his eyes, cheek mushing against the cold edge of the tub. When the guy is done, he flushes and washes his hands.

"Hey, do you know where Niall Horan is?"

"My Niall? You know my chipmunk?"

"... I guess."

"Somewhere. Down."

"Helpful," Zayn nods. Louis is not certain if he's sarcastic or not. "Right. It's midnight soon, mate, just letting you know."

"Yeah... Send someone to carry me downstairs? Preferably Lima."

"Who?"

"Liiima. Liams."

"Payne?"

"Mm-hm."

The door closes a few seconds after that. Louis supposes he's alone again. He could probably get up himself, but he's tired and somebody should help him. Louis is on the way to bring the school's footie team to the championship game, it would be not only be polite, but an honor to help the team captain.

The door opens a couple of minutes into Louis' ponderings and he's decided he's going to ask Liam to carry him bridal style down the stairs to make his return extra extravagant. He bets everyone has missed him.

"You're not Lima," he says, frowning once he looks up. That's definitely not him.

"No."

"What are you doing here?" he wonders, swallowing.

"Zayn told me you were here."

"Why?"

"'Cause he's my friend."

"Did you want to see me?" Louis asks, eyeing the other lad as he puts a leg over the edge, climbing into the tub. He doesn't answer, only settles back, knees pulled up on either side of Louis' legs.

Louis inhales quietly, suddenly feeling rather uncertain. Harry's sitting in the tub with him and they're simply looking at each other. It feels quite tentative. Their last encounter seems like ages ago, but he's not going to lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it, even if he's tried not to. The picture's been ingrained in the back of his head for the last week, and he doesn't know what do with it.

"So," Harry finally says, voice low. He looks as unsure as Louis' feeling.

"So," he says back. "How was... how's your break?"

"Okay." He nods once, pursing his lips.

"Cool."

"Yours?"

Christmas did actually go by rather calmly. He and Mum celebrated by themselves, grandma and grandpa coming over on the 25th. It was a calm, cozy and pleasant, if slightly strange, affair. Lottie's still quite mad at him for skipping Christmas at Mark's, but she told him she'd talked to Fizzy (although with a hard look and a meaningfully arched brow), who'd apparently said she'd think about coming home sometime. He also had a long conversation with Jay about their fight, including the job thing. She'd been upset, but let him keep it. They promised from now on there'd be no more lies.

"Okay, I guess," he answers, eyes locking on Harry's fingers scratching his bent knee.

"Are you drunk?" Harry asks, voice low, eyes not looking up.

"A little. You?"

He shrugs. Louis watches him and he thinks he looks quite... not fine. He suddenly wonders if it's just the party not hitting him up right, or if it's something else. Like, something with his parents. He has no right to ask, so he doesn't, even if the image of Harry standing outside his door, crying, is pounding his mind.

"Time's it?" he murmurs.

"Eleven fifty-six."

"Happy New Year," he says lamely, rolling his eyes.

Harry scoffs, throwing his head back. He accidentally clashes into the wall behind him and Louis bursts out into a cackle, slapping his hand over his mouth. Harry winces, whining as he rubs the back of his head. Louis smiles, bumping his inner thigh with the toe of his shoe.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, not unkindly. "Really?"

Harry looks up at him, shaking his head a just fraction where he's finally leaned it back against the wall. "I have no fucking idea."

And somehow that makes absolute sense.

"Who're you going to kiss at midnight then?"

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Harry asks, looking right at him.

Louis shrugs. He doesn't want him to kiss him, he just... doesn't want to not be kissed.

"Time's it?" he asks.

"Eleven fifty-nine."

They're quiet for a moment, and then Harry finally sighs. It's a low, perhaps even haunting, sound of longsuffering exhaustion. Louis can see him through the gap of his legs, staring at the ceiling.

"I don't want to be alone."

And. Yeah. Louis knows what that feels like.

"Yeah," he whispers back.

It feels completely right when he scrambles, after some awkward shifting crawling in between the space of Harry's legs, elbows landing on either of Harry's warm shoulders. He gazes down at him, Harry's eyes blinking back. Louis pushes his soft hair back, hands cradling his face. Harry blinks back and there's an understanding between them.

"Time is it?"

He glances at the small clock on the table in the corner of the bathroom. Before he can answer there's a loud cheer from outside, the rest of the guests of the party yelling their New Year wishes.

"Twelve," Harry whispers.

"Happy New Year, Harold," Louis says back, and leans down and kisses him.

It only last for a couple of seconds, but it's warm and sweet. It's not heading anywhere, but Louis closes his eyes anyway, feeling Harry's soft lips kiss him back. It doesn't mean anything, but it comforts them both in their own ways.

They part with a little breath each, and Louis leans back, sitting on Harry's thighs where he's straddling him. He reaches out, strokes a bit of saliva off Harry's lower lip with his thumb before he gets up and out of the tub, unsteady on his feet as he leaves the bathroom.

**

Louis doesn't hear from Harry for the rest of the break after New Years Eve. He left the party a couple of hours later, Niall finding him somewhere in the living room. He didn't see Harry for the rest of the party either, figuring the other boy stayed upstairs or went back to wherever he was before he appeared in the bathroom.

Louis spends the last week off mostly resting up, playing FIFA at Niall's and seeing Liam a couple of times. He goes on a few jogs, but tries not to think too much about his usual work out schedule. He also actually starts teaching Lottie how to drive. The first two lessons they do nothing but sit in an abandoned parking lot, trying to get Lottie to actually get the car moving. It happens, if quite jerkily, but results in an engine breakdown when she loses the clutch. It's kind of hilarious and they end up laughing more than anything, even if Lottie finds it frustrating.

Niall comes along a few times and he's actually quite helpful as Lottie carefully swerves around the parking lot.

"I think we should try driving down the small road by the woods," he suggests. "You're ready, Lots."

"Really?" she says. "Louis hasn't let me do anything else than this for days."

Well, Louis is pretty sure that he is not even allowed to be teaching somebody how to drive. Getting caught, or you know, dying, isn't exactly ideal.

"Yeah, come on. Nobody ever drives there. It'll be fine. Louis?"

"Fine," he sighs. "But I'm driving over there. Switch."

Lottie rolls her eyes, but nevertheless complies.

It ends up being fine. Louis is still worried the owner of the small road will pop up, which wouldn't be pleasant, it being private property and all. However, they're alone, and Lottie drives up and down the dirt road, practicing stopping and starting over and over again.

"Lots," Louis says after several painfully abrupt stops. "If you let up on the brake just a little bit after you've pressed down, the stop isn't going to be nearly as close to breaking my neck."

"Sorry," she laughs. She starts the car again, drives onwards a few yards and then slows. "Like this?"

"Better," Louis nods, only rubbing his chest from where the seatbelt has been cutting into it a little bit. "Maybe we should actually start checking up the rules for practice driving."

"Nobody's gonna see us, Lou. Chill out a bit, it's fine."

Louis sends Niall a glare over his shoulder, in the process noticing the phone in his hands. "Is that my phone?"

"No –"

"Give it!" Shit.

"It's not your phone, it's –"

Louis rips it out of his hands, heart pumping quickly. He turns it over in his hand, realizing that no, it is not in fact his phone. Relief instantly fills him, and he lets out the big breath he held.

"What's wrong with you?" Niall asks, matter-of-factly.

"Nothing. Oof!" He rubs his chest, eyes glancing at Lottie who's looking focused on the road in front of her. He gives Niall a sheepish look. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"What did you think I was doing? Looking through your texts? Since when do you even write anything interesting anyway? The last thing I'd want to read is your football schedules that you send everyone on the team. Yes, I know about those. The lads on the team hate them, did you know that?" Niall rolls his eyes. "And since when do we have secrets – Ooof! Lottie!"

"Sorry!"

Louis swallows, guiltily turning the phone over in his hand. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me," he says abashedly. "Wait. What were you doing then? This is Lottie's phone."

"What?!"

"Eyes on the road."

Niall smirks. "Reading texts."

"Niall!"

"Road. Eyes. Road."

"Louis! He's reading my texts!"

"Who's Martin, Lots?" Niall laughs.

"No one! You're such a shit, Niall –"

"Stop the car."

" – and I'm going to kill you!"

"Stop the car!"

"He seems nice, though. But, I do wonder –"

"I swear to god, if you don't stop the car we're going to die." Louis grips the seat in painful grasps.

"Nothing happened."

"Are you sure? I wasn't even going to say anything if Louis hadn't found me out, but now that you're being all defensive I'm curious."

"Niall, you're an arse!"

"Stop the car!" Louis yells, and then finally, finally, Lottie stomps on the break.

"Woah!"

"Uugh!"

Louis leans over, turning the car off completely. "If you two fight in the car one more time I'm not going to drive with you, Lottie, ever again. I'm not willing to risk my life."

"I was driving in thirty, Louis, chill."

"That's ten too fast."

Lottie ignores him, turning back to Niall. "Where did you even get my phone?"

"I've got contacts."

Lottie turns to scowl at Louis.

"Hey! I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you saw how he freaked when he thought it was his." Niall sends Louis look that feels genuinely annoyed and perhaps a tad cold, and Louis shrinks a little.

"Don't do that again."

"Can't promise anything, sis," Niall shrugs. "So, are you dating?"

Louis' sister turns beat red and Louis' eyes narrow. "You've got a boyfriend?"

"No!" she exclaims. "Not yet," she adds.

"You're fifteen!"

"And you're eighteen? Just because you were a nerd in Junior High doesn't mean I can't date."