Harry: You duck your head as you walk into the drug store, tucking your hair behind your ear. ”Calm down,” Harry hisses into your ear. ”As far as anyone knows we’re buying aspirin or milk or something.” Your heart pounds nonetheless as you sidestep into the dreaded aisle. ”We’re not gonna see any fans,” Harry murmurs into your ear as you grab a box, not even checking the brand or price, and stuff it under your arm like a football. You sidestep to the cashier, slamming the shiny purple box down on the belt and sucking in your cheeks. ”That all, love?” The cashier says, and you wince. It’s a little old lady, probably at least eighty. ”No, no, these too,” Harry says, dropping a box of popsicles down next to the condoms. The cashier’s eyes widen as she sees him. ”Harry! Nice to see you, dear! Say hi to your grandma for me,” She says, swiping both boxes into a bag. You drop a twenty dollar bill on the counter and start walking away. ”Keep the change!” You call over your shoulder as Harry waves goodbye awkwardly.
Louis: “Fuck.” Louis says, looking up at you through the darkness of the room. ”What,” you whine impatiently. ”The box is empty.” He says, turning the black box upside down and shaking it. ”Fuck!” You shout, sitting up straight. Louis is still out of breath, and he runs a hand through his sweaty hair. ”Fuck.” He repeats. His pants are unbuttoned and his shirt is somewhere across the room; your skirt is around your ankles and the sweater you’d been wearing is on the floor, and your bra is only half on. ”Fuck. I’ll be back.” He says, reaching for baggy sweatpants and standing up. He groans. ”I dont want to drive with a…” he mutters, but his voice trails off. ”I’m coming with you,” you sigh, fixing your bra strap and pulling your skirt back up. Louis raises an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, hastily picking up your sweater. “Yes, idiot, I’ll finish you off while you’re driving.”
Niall: “Just get the cough drops and get out of here.” You croak, pulling your hands into the oversized sleeves of your hoodie. ”Sure,” Niall says, shuffling over to the shelf of Halls. Just then a broad shouldered blonde boy turns into the aisle, making eye contact with you and then running over to you immediately. “(y/n)!” He shouts, picking you up and spinning you around. ”Hi, Ben,” you say, smiling weakly as you glace over at Niall. Niall’s not a huge fan of Ben, your previous hockey player boyfriend, who’s easily five inches taller and fifty pounds of muscle heavier. ”How’s it goin, Ben?” Niall says, as he sidesteps across the aisle, sweeping four boxes of extra large Trojan condoms into his plastic shopping basket. ”Ya good?” Niall says, raising his eyebrows as Ben gives Niall a pitying laugh. ”I’m good, man. See ya, (y/n).” He says as he grabs a box for himself and leaves. You give Niall a face. ”It’s not like we won’t use them eventually….” He mutters.
Liam: “This is weird,” you mutter, zipping past the condom aisle for the third time. Liam strides next to you, keeping his head down. ”Maybe we just have to buy a lot of other things, so it doesn’t look like we’re just coming here for condoms like sex maniacs,” he whispers, and he tosses a bag of chips into the cart. ”What, are we going to eat chips while we fuck?” You make a face, grabbing a can of chocolate frosting and putting it in the cart as well. ”No, no, now it looks like we have a weird fetish or kink or something.” Liam shudders. ”Here,” he says, pulling the cart over a few aisles. He adds a box of soap and shampoo to the cart. ”And now it looks like we’ll have to clean up from whatever our kink was.” You smirk, biting your lip. You pull the car a few aisles farther, and drop a bottle of vodka into the cart too. Liam raises his eyebrows. You pucker your lips. ”I’m kinda liking this chocolate frosting idea.”
Zayn: “Can I rock paper scissors you for it?” Zayn says, licking his lips as he puts the car in park. ”Be a man and buy them!” You snap back, folding your arms. ”Be a man, what the fuck? No. No no no. Rock paper scissors, (y/n). Right here right now.” Zayn says, turning to face you and slamming a fist into the open palm of his other hand. You sigh and do the same, shaking your head at Zayn and narrowing your eyes. ”You’re going down, Malik.” His jaw clicks and he grins at you. ”Rock, paper, scissors, shoot,” you both say, and then you look up at each other. ”We both did scissors,” Zayn says. ”Come on. We’re going in together.”
