Over Again | larry stylinson

eight | paper dolls

The next thing to discuss was family, which was obviously a much more difficult topic for Louis. He decided not to mention his mum's passing.

The boys were very young, after all, and he didn't want to scare them about their own futures unnecessarily. Besides, they'd all been very attached to Jay and considered her an extension of their own mothers, and Louis knew there was no point making them mourn her while she was still here.

But their families did need to hear from them. And that raised some clear issues.

"We might be able to fool the people at the studio using Lou's makeup techniques and airbrushing out our tattoos, but our parents know us," Harry said seriously. 

He shifted subconsciously closer to Louis as he spoke. It was an old muscle memory from when they were younger and had to be as close as they could possibly get to one another at all times, had to be touching hands or knees under the table, shoulder to shoulder, ribs on ribs.

They were close enough that Harry could smell the scent of Louis' shampoo, which he was amazed to realise hadn't changed in all the time since he was last this close to him. He didn't like to think how long it had been.

"It would be so much easier to know what to tell them if we at least had any idea what was going on," Harry sighed.

"We'll think of something," said Louis. He remembered his part as doting boyfriend, forced himself to place a hand on Harry's knee as though he couldn't feel the sparks shooting up at the contact.

"I keep feeling like it's all a weird dream we're about to just wake up from one day, and everything will go back to normal," Harry admitted.

"I hope you don't."

The older boys looked up at the sound of Zayn's voice: shy, quiet Zayn, dark eyes brimming with honesty and loyalty.

He'd quickly grown to feel safe in the presence of this shiny new Harry and Louis and was keen for closeness and acceptance from them, despite an odd hot tension now and again which was gone before he could work out what it was, but still not smothered quite quickly enough for it to escape his attention.

"Yeah, it's really great to get this time with you again," Louis smiled slightly sadly - there was the tension again, Zayn thought, and then it was gone.

Harry changed the subject quickly, though the topic wasn't any easier.

"We know," he said slowly, "That is isn't quite fair to leave you all entirely in the dark."

"You each get two questions to ask us," Louis added. "They can be whatever you like, but we've all seen time travel movies, so be careful. Might sound stupid but we really don't know what we're fucking with here, except that it's much fucking bigger than ourselves."

Zayn was first, didn't miss a beat. "Perrie," he said. "Is she... are she and I still...?"

"Straight in with the light ones, I see," said Louis humourlessly. He groaned. "Fuck, Zayn, I don't know what to tell you. I know we said we'd tell you the truth but with this.... Fuck. You don't come off very well in this one."

The boy's face fell. "Oh."

"It's not all bad, though!" Harry jumped in quickly to reassure him.  "You end up... doing what you want to do, and you stay true to yourself."

He could practically hear Louis' sarcastic thoughts in response to that, so pressed his knee hard against his thigh under the table as a warning to stay quiet.

"You'll be alright, I think," Harry continued, doing his best to reassure Zayn. "I haven't seen you in a while, though."

"Haven't seen him in a while?" Niall's nose wrinkled with confusion. "Why would you not have seen him?"

With a sickening jolt to the stomach, Harry saw he'd said too much. Niall, he realised, or at least this version of him, knew nothing really outside of this little Teletubby apartment complex, where all the boys were constantly piled on top of each other (some more literally than others, he thought with a deftly hidden smirk).

This version of Niall knew all about their carefully-selected matching outfits, where his polo top twinned with the elastic braces of Louis' chinos, whose Vans in turn matched the hue of Harry's blazer.

He knew about living out of five identical cases on the road, where he and the other boys would share snacks and drinks and earphones before being crammed together into hotel rooms and onto stages in a perfectly coordinated line.

Five paper-chain dolls, they were then. Each one was cut exactly to shape, joined by the wrist and the ankle to the next. Five paper-chain dolls, lined up perfectly side by side for the world to see.

How could Harry explain the rips in the chain of those paper dolls now? The irreparable damage to every link, the missing figure at the end of the line, the scrawls on the faces that had been so pure and open before?

In the end, he didn't have the stomach for it.

"We're off tour for a bit," he said, as lightly as he could manage. He supposed this was the truth, in a way.

"What's our latest album like?" Liam wanted to know next.

Louis was glad of the change of conversation topic. "It's mega," he chuckled, and he meant it. He had really loved Made in the A.M. "We found our sound."

"Non-stop bangers," Harry agreed. He'd been singing What A Feeling in the shower that morning, and was extremely pleased to still know all the words from memory.

"Can you sing some for us?"

"Maybe later, lad," Louis said quickly. He didn't know why, but the idea of singing in front of Harry now made him feel... he wasn't quite sure what the word was. Slightly dizzy, slightly too warm, slightly queasy, slightly too aware of his throat and his stomach and his chest and the front of his jeans.

Not that Harry hadn't seen him sing recently - he knew for a fact that Harry had snuck into a couple of his shows without pre-warning him, a fact which was both embarrassing and oddly flattering to Louis.

But a duet? After all this time? Now that would be fucking weird. Louis swallowed nervously. Where would be even put his hands?

***

The questions continued later than either of the two older boys had intended, having both found that they actually rather liked this opportunity to reminisce about their One Direction days and the music and memories they'd made.

They were careful to keep it light and vague, like children's storytellers, though Louis' heart hit his throat with affection and sympathy at Niall's third question ("Will anyone laugh at my singing?" he all but whispered, eyes soft with worry) and again after Liam's second one ("You find loads of people to love, Li, don't you worry," Harry assured him with gentle kindness. "You're adored and you adore in return.")

He was grateful for the end to the emotional rollercoaster which came when Harry yawned and stretched, revealing the time on his Gucci wristwatch. "Bloody hell, that late already?" He exclaimed.

"Bed time for baby boys," Louis grinned tiredly, trying to hide his relief.

"Babies!" Zayn protested, though both Louis and Harry were amused to see that he actually respected their authority and was getting to his feet as he spoke.

"I am practically old enough to be your father, lad," Louis reminded him.

"When I was your age-" Harry began, but was quickly silenced by loud BOOs from the younger boys.

"Alright, Grandad and Grandpa, we get it," Liam rolled his eyes elaborately. "You want some alone time, we get it."

"Amazed if they can still get it up, at their age."

Harry choked out a short, surprised laugh of mixed embarrassment and amusement. Louis' cheeks flared as he realised what Niall was referring to.

"Of course I can, you cheeky fucking git," he laughed, clapping the boy irritably round his blonde head. Quick, sharp, keen to hide his feelings. The way he always was these days.

He couldn't make himself meet Harry's eye, though.
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a/n: thanks so much for reading!! tpwk love to all <33