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Something Worth Fighting For xx Larry Stylinson
Author:
feelsforbreakfast PM
It's only after the boys have been pulled into the war that they truly find something worth fighting for. World War II AU -on permanent hiatus-
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 7 - Words: 12,906 - Reviews: 60 - Favs: 41 - Follows: 36 - Updated: 06-21-12 - Published: 05-03-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8082818
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Hello everyone! So it's been a long week but here we are! Thankyou all for the lovely reviews, you're all fantastic. Hope you enjoy! (:

Harry

It had been a long week and Harry was incredibly grateful when Saturday night came around. The boys all got Sunday off, and therefore Saturday night was a sacred time left for faffing about and staying up a little bit too late.

Since the first Monday, their barrack had split into factions. There was Harry, Zayn, and Niall, now often joined by Louis, and the slightly bigger faction of Matt, Lloyd, Ed, Joe, and Olly. On the fringes were two guys named Steve and Shayn, and a really quiet guy whose name Harry wasn't sure of.

At the moment, Harry's group had stationed themselves on his bed, a deck of cards set between them as they attempted to play rummy. The other boys were partaking in similar activities on the floor near them, a small pool of coins and a lone bottle of liquor sitting in the center of their game.

Harry picked up a card, quickly scanned his hand, then lay down four sevens, a cheerful smile on his face. "Your turn, Zayn."

"Pass me a card." He said, refusing to move from his spot by the wall. He had once again settled in a position Harry could not imagine to be comfortable, his back crooked, head against the wall, feet resting on his bed post.

"For someone who has no trouble with the training exercises, you're fucking lazy." Harry teased, flicking a card to him.

"I just don't like to move unless I have to. Sitting around and looking pretty is really my forte."

"You're a twat."

Zayn leered at him. "I'm beautiful."

Harry flipped him off, a smile accompanying the motion. As it turned out, Harry's initial assessment of Zayn had been correct. He did like to keep to himself, but as Harry got to know him, a much sillier side began to present itself. "Niall it's your go."

The irishman picked up a card, smiling widely. "ACES!" He slammed the group down, the black and red As sharp against the white cards.

"Not bad, Nialler." Louis smiled, leaning to pick up a card, then discarding it with a mournful shrug. "I've got nothing. Your turn, Hazza."

The nickname made him pause, his chest filling with a sort of tight happiness at the endearment. A lot of people called him Curly, but Hazza was new. "Hazza?"

"You like it?" He smiled, looking incredibly pleased with himself at the nickname. It was simply adorable.

Since their class together, Harry had managed to get his feelings under control enough to talk to the guy, but there was something about him that still made Harry feel a little bit giddy every time he looked at him.

"It's cute, Lou Bear." He replied, trying out a nickname of his own.

Louis seemed to glow at the endearment. "Hazza and Lou Bear. I like it."

Harry took his turn, and though he didn't have anything, Louis had said Lou Bear and Hazza like it was something special, and in many ways that was better than winning all the games in the world.

"You know what I miss most about home?" Prompted Niall, peering over the top of his cards. "My bed. And home cooked meals. But mostly my bed. These beds are so uncomfortable."

"I miss being able to move without my entire body hurting." Harry complained, leaning back against the wall by Louis' feet. "But we can't all get what we want."

Niall just laughed, his whole face consumed by the chuckle. "My brother Greg says the first week's the hardest, it does get better."

"It better get goddamn better, I can barely move my fucking neck." Harry grumbled in reply.

"I miss my sisters and my mum." Added Louis. "I wonder how they're doing without me."

"I miss my girlfriend!" Called Olly from the nearby game, interrupting the impending mushiness.

"Me too." Louis agreed, causing three heads to whip towards him.

"You've got a girl back home?" Asked Zayn as he reached for a card, looking like he was trying very hard to keep disbelief off of his face and not doing all that well.

"Yep." Louis smiled. "She's great."

Meanwhile, Harry was still trying to put the pieces together. Louis had a girl? Not that he had assumed... but, it just seemed so unlikely, so strange. The thought of Louis walking around with some pretty woman on his arm made his chest contract in a way that was not entirely pleasant. "What's her name?"

Louis turned to him, the oddest look in his eyes. "Eleanor."

"She sounds nice." He hoped he sounded heartfelt, but the words seemed to fall flat. He tried to cover the awkward silence that was quickly creeping up on them by directing his attention back to the game. "Niall, your turn."

Niall picked up a card, nearly upending the discard pile in the process.

Louis dived to save it, catching the sliding cards just in time.

"I told you it was a bad idea to play on the bed." Zayn complained, shuffling his cards between his fingers.

"It'd be a perfectly fine idea if Niall didn't insist on jostling the entire mattress!" Countered Louis, poking Niall in the side with his foot, causing the other boy to fold in on himself.

"No! I'm ticklish!"

This only seemed to spur Louis on, abandoning his cards in favor of launching himself at Niall and going into full tickle mode. The blonde flailed, completely decimating the game and sending cards flying as he tried in vain to avoid Louis' nimble fingers.

Harry backed away from the carnage, preferring, as Zayn did, to view from afar with a small smirk of amusement. By the time Louis had decided that Niall'd had enough (the Irishman was nearly in tears from laughter, his face a bright pink) the deck had been scattered to all corners of the bed and onto the floor.

Niall slid onto the ground as well, wiping his face with gasping giggle. "I hate you so much."

Louis grinned down at him. "That's not true."

"Fair enough." He stood with a groan. "Alright, if we're done playing, I'm heading for bed. I'm tired."

Louis made an L with his hand, holding it out to the younger boy. "Lame! It's early yet."

Niall ignored him, climbing the ladder up to his bunk and flopping down onto the mattress. "

"I think I'm going to go for a smoke." Zayn said, pushing himself to his feet with a heavy sigh.

Harry motioned to the cards currently littering the area. "Or you could smoke in here and help me with this mess."

Zayn held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I am not responsible for this monstrosity. Besides, I want to get some fresh air before bed."

"Rude."

Zayn just shrugged, pulling on his jacket and heading out into the cool Spring night, leaving Harry and Louis to pick up the cards. It took one look at Louis curling up in Harry's sheets for him to realize that the sandy haired boy was most certainly not going to help and so he sighed in annoyance, beginning a solitary game of 52 pickup.

By the time he finally managed to gather up the entire deck, part of which had ended up a good ten feet away, Louis had completely taken over his bed, curled up in his sheets, his head resting on Harry's pillow.

"Lou. Lou move. Lou that's my bed." Louis, who seemed to actually have fallen asleep, didn't wake, the soft fluttering of his chest the only evidence that he was alive at all.

Harry ran a hand through his curls, going over his options. He supposed he could wake him, but he looked so peaceful laying there, like he hadn't a care in the world. He could sleep in Louis' bed, it would only be fair, but it was a top bunk, and there had been a reason Harry had gone for the lower level. Sleeping anywhere he had to climb down from gave him the creeps.

Or he could climb into bed with him. It wasn't every day completely gorgeous boys fell asleep on Harry's bed, even completely gorgeous boys with girlfriends. So he did the logical thing, slipping his shirt off and sliding under the covers next to him. He was careful not to touch him, only curl up on the pillow next to his sleeping form, their faces inches apart, his steady breaths soft on Harry's face.

He wanted to touch him so badly, to feel Louis' skin underneath his fingers and Louis' fingers on him, wanted to know how his body felt, wanted to memorize the lines of his frame and the thump of his heartbeat. But he knew that wasn't an option.

For the moment, he was content to snuggle as close to the other boy as he dared, letting his hand creep across the mattress, stopping it just before Louis', so their fingers touched, nothing more.

The contact, tiny and lovely, was enough. And Harry fell asleep, drowning in the brush of their fingers.

Zayn

Zayn stepped from the barracks, letting the cool night sink over him, washing the tension from his shoulders. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and bringing it to his lips, taking a long drag. The smoke filled his lungs and he tipped his head back, puffing a long stream of vapor up at the stars that sprinkled the heavens.

He liked it here, liked to loose himself in the pounding of his feet on dirt paths and the thrumming of his muscles until he didn't have to think anymore. He liked the boys, how they didn't pry, how they accepted him for who he was without question. He liked them, but sometimes he just needed to step away for a moment, to stand outside with a cigarette, just him and the soft whisper of the trees. He puffed smoke from his lips, blowing tiny rings up into the night as he wandered towards the row of evergreens that stretched all the way to the mess hall.

He'd just reached the trees when he caught a flicker of movement on the other side. A brief moment of panic gripped him, quickly turning to wariness as he tried to identify the source of the motion. He hid his cigarette behind his hand, hoping whoever it was hadn't spotted him first.

"Who's there?" It was the Sargent, his voice quiet and wary in the still darkness. Zayn cursed under his breath, trying to remember if he was breaking any rules by being out here. He supposed either way he didn't have the time to try and hide or run away, so it was probably better to just come out with it. "It's me."

"Zayn? He recognized the off white of Liam's tee shirt in the cool light of the half moon as he ducked under the evergreen boughs to reach him.

"What brings you out here?" Sargent Payne asked conversationally, dissuading any fears Zayn had been harboring.

"Went out for a smoke, Sir." He replied, tacking the sir on as an afterthought.

"Just call me Liam." He smiled, looking almost unsure of himself.

"Alright, Liam." He started to walk again, bringing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling sharply. "So why are you out here so late?"

"Running. I liked to get a mile or two in before I got to bed."

Zayn nodded, noticing the way his shirt clung to the contours of his chest. "I used to run a lot back in the city. It's a good way not to think." He mentally slapped himself. Why had he even said that? Liam was the Sargent, and someone he'd only talked to one on one about three times, and now here he was, ready to spill his guts to him.

"Not think about what?" Zayn looked hard at him, realizing that behind he curiosity, he could see genuine concern in Liam's eyes.

"Everything." He felt the strongest urge to tell him just what everything entailed, but made a concentrated effort to keep his mouth shut. It wouldn't have been so difficult if Liam hadn't been so damn attractive. Zayn had been trying to deny it for the better part of the week, ignoring the deep curve of his jaw, how his tee shirts stretched and molded to his biceps and broad, muscular shoulders. Sure, Louis was pretty, Harry was cute, and Niall mind-numbingly adorable, but Liam was just incredibly fucking hot.

"I'm sorry." His words were spoken in a low, careful voice, his tone laced with comfort that made Zayn's chest contract with something that hurt a little more than happiness.

Liam shoved his hands in his pockets, and suddenly Zayn could see him, really truly see him, not as the Sargent but as someone who'd been dragged into this war just as he'd been, who'd gotten trapped in something much bigger than himself. In that moment Zayn realized that Liam was just as he was, completely and utterly lost.

It was only his voice that jolted Zayn from his revelation. "So why did you enlist?"

"How did you know I wasn't drafted?" He didn't want to be surprised, maybe even a little flattered that Liam had been paying attention, but he was.

For a second, Zayn thought he detected a bit of a blush on the other boy's cheeks. "I go through all my recruits' files. I like to know what I'm getting myself into."

Of course. It was nothing special, just something he did for all the guys. Zayn wasn't sure why he felt just a little bit disappointed.

The two reached the mess hall, and Zayn leaned against the brick, inhaling a lungful of smoke and puffing little smoke rings in Liam's direction. They bubbled from his mouth, curling in Liam's hair and twisting around his strong features.

"It was all I had left."

Liam jumped at his voice, as if his attention had drifted. "Sorry, I uh, got, your mouth..." He seemed to fumble with his hands for a moment, before crossing them over his chest. "What did you say?"

Zayn pierced Liam with a searching stare, setting his hands on his hips. "What were you saying about my mouth?"

This time, he was sure of it, a pink tint had risen on Liam's cheeks. "It's nothing."

Zayn leaned back so his body was flush against the brick, dangling his cigarette between his first and second finger, suddenly aware that he was treading in dangerous waters. "It didn't sound like nothing."

"I didn't mean..." He moved towards Zayn, and the dark haired boy had the distinct feeling that Liam really hadn't mean to, but now there were inches between their faces and neither of them seemed to be able to pull away. "I just- Shit."

Zayn reached out slowly, dropping his cigarette to the ground and resting the tips of his fingers on Liam's hips, wordlessly beckoning him forward. Liam's hands crept up to Zayn's face, cupping his and pulling him so their noses brushed.

"I have no idea what I'm doing." He whispered, his eyes wide with something that was a whole lot like fear.

"I usually just try not think about it." Zayn replied, pressing his mouth to Liam's with careful slowness, letting himself melt into the other boy's arms. Liam's hands tightened around his jaw, sandwiching Zayn between the wall and his body, the contours of their hips fitting together as their lips locked.

Zayn just held on, letting Liam take control, the younger boy's arms pressed against the brick behind Zayn's head, bending his head down so Zayn had to look up into the kiss. Zayn could feel blood rushing in his ears as Liam's body pressed against his, skin burning where it touched. It was like he was on fire, the cool night crackling with tension.

His mind was reeling, wondering how he'd ended up here, their tongues sliding together, lips soft and wet and hands moving slowly, ever so slowly across each other's bodies. He hadn't pegged Liam for the type, and he had the distinct feeling that Liam hadn't pegged himself as the type either. There was something frantic to his movements, as if he was even more confused than Zayn was, but had no idea how to stop.

Not that Zayn was all that sure how to end it either. Not that he really wanted to. Liam finally managed to detach their mouths, his doe eyes wide, breathing unsteady. "Zayn?"

Zayn brought two fingers up to Liam's mouth, pressing them to the soft skin of his lips. "I won't tell if you wont."

He breathed the next two words like a sigh of relief, letting his body slide away from Zayn's. "Thankyou."

"It's nothing." He smiled in a way he meant to be reassuring, hoping that Liam couldn't see the way his hands were shaking from the proximity or how his heart had hopped into his throat with the realization of what had just happened.

"I'll see you." Liam coughed under his breath, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay." Zayn watched the older boy walk away, pulling another cigarette from his pocket with trembling fingers and muffled curses. He wasn't going to do this. It was going to end badly. But then, as Zayn watched the long sturdy line of Liam's body as he walked away he was struck with a single, horrifying realization: he was already in too deep.

OH GOD THE ZIAM IN THIS STORY IS JUST KILLING ME. HOLY CHRIST. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO LARRY WITH BACKGROUND ZIAM BUT OH MY LORD. JESUS TAKE THE ENTIRE EISENHOWER EXPRESSWAY.
Anyway. Tell me what you think! (:

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