Harry - happened where he took you, on the living room floor, with clothes crumpled and a mess of themselves around your bodies tangling. And outside of his own voice lost from yelling, your own hands wanting to split out all the parts of him you had, he found himself breaking up inside of you, burying his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent because he knew it wouldn’t last. Neither of you said anything, splintering a swear word or two between your teeth when you came but that was it. He collapsed on top of you when he finished and gathered his clothes before he gathered his thoughts and left, a mess until he made it home.
Liam - happened when he needed you to stay, and you were the one nudging back, even though you kissed him harder where he kissed you first. Your hands knotted up to his hair before anything else, pressing him back down on the bed you’d both gotten up from only an hour ago, throats still hoarse from yelling and waking up to the same day and the same fight over and over again. He growled down your neck and gasped, pleading breath that you heard but ignored. You ran your hands down every familiar track you’d made in his body, his back, his arms. He gasped again, when he came before you, when he fell out of you and rolled to the other side of you, when he sat up and dressed himself, “so, that’s just it then…”
Louis - happened when you finished the anger in him, enough for one last tug, for him to take you up against the hallway wall, your feet dangling off the ground before they wrapped around his waist, heels jutting his body closer, tearing clothing with teeth, angry eyes still glaring with every comeback you both had left. He snapped his lips over your shoulder and bit harshly into the skin, not thinking about a lot when you both wrapped up and reached the end, in it for yourselves, sick of one another but desperate at the same time, needing him like he was needing you, but too proud to say it, too stubborn. He let you down from the wall after it, “guess I should just leave then, huh?”
Zayn - happened when you were both saying goodbye, saying goodbye to hands and fingertips and freckles and birthmarks and all the little marks you’d come to know, saying goodbye to eyes and smiles and faces you made when you came. He kissed your jawline a little knobbly, all of it happening in slow motion, at least, how it seemed to you. Everything gentle and caring, like laying something fragile back down after holding it for so long. He rubbed the tip of his nose against you and breathed in the same air as you, saying goodbye to that as well. He held your hands in his and entwined fingers when you both finished, when you both knew it was over and there wasn’t much to do but lay on backs to catch your breath before you both got up and left in separate states.
Niall - didn’t happen at all, because he stopped when he was hovering over you and holding himself, crushing his eyes shut to keep them dry before he opened them again to look down at you, “no, no… I… I can’t,” he swallowed and shook his head, pressing his lips together. He leant back to keep his expression from breaking where you eyes could see it happen, but you were splitting as fast as he was. You wrapped your arms up to your chest to hold yourself, and watched him stand up and throw his t-shirt over his head, the same way he used to when it was different, when he wasn’t leaving to never come back.
