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Louis’ head was filled with cotton and old beer soaked cigarette butts. That was the only explanation for the way she felt as she rolled over in bed, body heavy and stomach churning. She’d been dreaming up a new song for her band and had been awakened when the noise from the drums stopped sounding like backup and started sounding like “shave and a haircut, six cents” instead. 

KNOCK-knocka-knockknock-KNOCK KNOCK

Rolling out of bed and stumbling toward the door, Louis knew it could only be one person. She stopped at the mirror in the hallway and gave herself a quick once over: she was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and with electric tape in an X over each nipple, and her hair was a wreck. There was a smear of lipstick on her cheek (not hers) and dark smudges of ruined eyeliner and mascara around her eyes (definitely hers). Perfect. She opened the door. 

“Good mor-- oh!” Marcy-- Marcel, Marceline, Marcia Marcia Marcia when Louis really wanted to annoy her --squeaked, shielding her eyes as she turned away. “Um, did you-- I mean, could you maybe get dressed?” She came inside, closing the door behind her but keeping her head turned. “The car will be here in less than an hour, and there’s not much, uh, wiggle room with time.” 

Louis barely held in her laugh. Marcy’s face was red, her pink lower lip caught between her teeth as she clearly fought an internal battle over how she should react to Louis in order to get her job done. Louis reached out and pinched her cheek before grabbing a nearby dirty t-shirt and pulling it over her head. 

“Better, Marshmallow?” That was another nickname Louis used for her. But Marcy almost seemed to like it too much. She finally lowered her hand and blinked at Louis from behind her dark framed glasses. 

“Yes,” she said on an exhale. It made her sound as though she’d been holding her breath. “As I was saying, the car is coming to take you to a round of interviews and then right to the airport, so I have to rush you a little.” Louis turned on her heel, safe in the knowledge Marcy would follow her. 

“Packing is easy enough, tour wardrobe’s there already.” Louis’ head throbbed and she blinked hard, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple. “Headache’s a fucker though, be a love and get me tea and some paracetamol?” 

“You-- are you sure you don’t want help packing?” 

Louis leaned against her door frame, trying to appear casual when she felt like her head full of cotton was now being spun into thread? Yarn? Whatever it was cotton turned into. “Marceline Dion, you’re my assistant, aren’t you?” 

“That’s not my name, but yes--” 

“And as my assistant you assist me in all sorts of things. Right?” Marcy nodded. “Please assist me in defeating this truly rotten hangover by bringing me a tea and some paracetamol. And a butty. Please?” Louis tipped her head down and batted her lashes, waiting for Marcel to crack. 

“Alright,” Marcy sighed. “But if I come back and you’re not packing, I’ll be very disappointed.” 

“There she is!” Louis tugged at a stray curl that had escaped the barrettes Marcy kept her short hair pulled back with. “Best assistant ever. Now go on.” Marcy let herself be shooed away, and Louis went in her room, kicking her suitcase open and finding it still pretty full from the last time she’d been away. Marcy had actually packed for her that time, which meant the suitcase was overpacked by Louis’ standards. Good to go. 

When Marcy came back twenty minutes later, Louis had showered and was just contemplating having a tiny nap. Instead she ate the breakfast Marcy brought her-- a bacon butty AND eggs, along with a tea made just as she liked and the paracetamol --and allowed Marcy to check that she had everything she needed before being gently shoved out the door and to the car that awaited them. 

Upon arriving at the interviews, Louis could immediately tell something was wrong. Though Lianne and Vero--the other founding members of the band --were hanging out with one another as they often did, she didn’t see the drummer, Kel, anywhere, and the band’s manager, Niall, had her phone pressed to her ear, a serious expression on her face as she paced back and forth across the studio. 

It turned out that Kel had been at the same party Louis had attended the night before. She didn’t quite remember seeing him there, but she did vaguely recall people saying something about a guy trying to jump from the roof of the house they were at into the pool behind it. He wasn’t dead, thankfully, but he’d broken his leg and would definitely not be able to drum. 

The band went through their interviews as normal, just down a single member. Kel wasn’t mentioned, and by the time they were finished and headed to the airport, Niall had managed to round up another drummer that would meet them for the remainder of their tour. 

Marcy looked worried about it, though to be fair she always looked a little worried about something, tiny stress lines showing up behind the bridge of her glasses and a handful of nervous tics that Louis had gradually begun to notice over time. Hoping to distract her, Louis made a game out of trying to guess who the drummer would be. Marcy loved music, and kept up with industry names as much as or more than Louis did. By the time they got on the plane, Marcy no longer looked worried and Louis had a list of potential drummers lined up, eager to be proven right about her choices. 

It was a long flight, and Louis was tired enough that she fell asleep quickly, waking up hours later to find her head resting on Marcy’s shoulder and a little bit of drool on her cheek. Marcy was asleep along with the rest of the band and their team, thankfully, and Louis was happy to not be caught using her assistant as a pillow again. Though it made Marcy blush, which Louis loved, Louis’ bandmates had started to tease her about it, and that was simply not on. 

Marcy had been brought on as Louis’ assistant when the band took off a year earlier, and at first Louis was so intimidated by the idea of having an assistant that she was sure she’d ask them not to work with her after a couple weeks. But then she met Marcy, who was working with a queer pop punk band but showed up in a cardigan and pearls and a button-down shirt with a Peter Pan collar. 

Who knew they even made adult clothes with Peter Pan collars? Apparently Marcy did. In any case, she was the least intimidating person Louis had ever met but still had a few years of experience that made her very good at her job. She brought order to Louis’ chaotic life and made sure that Louis arrived to every event and commitment on time, and she’d figured out how Louis liked her tea and made it perfectly every single time. 

Louis knew she’d lucked out. She also knew that somehow Marcy seemed to think she was the lucky one, constantly bending over backwards to make sure she kept her job in spite of Louis giving her lots of reassurance and regular bonuses. The reality was that she’d do anything to keep Marcy around at this point. She could probably go back to life without her, but she didn’t want to find out the hard way that she couldn’t. 

With two days before their first show on this leg of the tour and the new drummer still a mystery, Louis was hardly able to sleep when she got to the hotel. Marcy seemed to have anticipated such a thing, her familiar knock against Louis’ door signalling her presence after they’d all had a chance to settle in a bit. When Louis opened the door, she found Marcy standing there in a fluffy purple bathrobe and striped pajamas, her hair pulled back from her face by a stretchy black headband. 

“Melatonin,” she said, shaking a bottle she held in her left hand. “Thought you’d need it.” 

“Drugs, Marcy? Is that how you think I am?” Louis stepped aside to let Marcel in. 

“Noo, these are natural and don’t require a prescription. Your body produces melatonin on it’s own, but when--” 

Louis put her finger to Marcy’s lips, biting back a smile when she felt them twitch beneath her touch. “Shh. I know what melatonin is, you numpty. Thanks for thinking of me.” She lowered her finger and Marcel exhaled, fidgeting with the tie on her robe. “Now how many do I take?” 

“Oh! Just one, under the tongue. Let it dissolve.” 

There was definitely a way to turn that into a cheeky joke, but Louis settled for opening her mouth wide and sticking her tongue out instead, quietly waiting for Marcy to put the lozenge inside and giving her a satisfied grin once she had. Marcy rolled her eyes, face scrunching the way it often did when Louis teased her. 

“How long does this take to work?” Louis asked, rolling the melatonin tablet around in her mouth for a moment. It tasted vaguely of strawberries. 

“Anywhere from a few minutes to half an hour, usually. Want to get in bed and I’ll turn your light out as I go?” 

For a split second Louis considered asking why Marcy would go, but she knew that was taking things a bit too far. She’d already been warned that the way she interacted with Marcel was over the top, and though Marcel had said she didn’t mind it, that didn’t make it any less inappropriate. 

“Yeah, the overhead. Thanks, love.” Louis climbed into bed, burrowing under the duvet and getting comfortable as Marcy stood by the door, looking on. “Ready when you are.” 

“Okay, uh-- goodnight, Lou.” 

“Night, Marcy.” 

The light clicked off and Louis heard the door close softly a moment later. She’d expected to find it hard to sleep, but the melatonin worked and she was out before she knew it. 

-

The next morning she woke up feeling much better than she had the night before-- amazing what not throwing back Red Bull and vodkas all night will do for you --and almost didn’t remember that today was the day she’d find out who their replacement drummer would be. She was reminded the moment she picked up her phone, though, with no less than ten notifications for texts and chats from people who’d already heard the news wanting her reaction. 

She dropped her phone on her face when she read the name, rubbing her nose as she picked it back up to make sure she hadn’t imagined what she’d read. A second look confirmed it, and Louis laughed, delighted with the band’s good luck. 

Sarah Jones was easily one of the best drummers around, and when they’d brought Kel on a year earlier Louis had actually wanted her instead. Unfortunately, her schedule just hadn’t been compatible with what the band was planning on, and so they’d gone with Kel. He’d turned out to be a great fit, and Louis hadn’t regretted the band’s choice to keep him for this tour, but with Sarah she felt like they might be even better. 

Invigorated by the good news, Louis practically leapt out of bed. She couldn’t wait to get everyone together to go through their set, and would’ve skipped breakfast if she hadn’t been able to hear Marcy’s voice in her head, telling her that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. She ordered room service and showered as she waited for it to arrive, putting on an outfit that hopefully gave off an effortlessly cool vibe that would win Sarah over immediately. 

When Marcy arrived, it was clear she hadn’t been expecting Louis to be ready nor to be dressed in anything other than ratty sweats and a hoodie. She tucked her hair behind her ears, staring at Louis with her mouth a line and her brow wrinkled, a bit like a confused frog. Louis booped her nose. 

“Let’s go, Marcello tape, big day, busy day.” 

“Oh! I didn’t-- okay, okay.” Marcy shuffled a few things around in her hands, following Louis toward the elevator. Louis enjoyed seeing her looking disheveled not just from the usual teasing nicknames and banter, but from simple surprise. She’d have to be ready to go early more often. 

Sarah was as cool as Louis had hoped and an even better drummer than she’d expected. They still had a lot of work to do in order to be ready for their first show, but Sarah picked it all up quickly and, perhaps best of all, appeared at ease even with all the pressure. Louis made a point of sitting next to her at lunch, chatting with her about music and the other bands she’d been in, and by the end of the day it felt as though they’d end up being friends as well as bandmates. 

When Louis got into her car to head back to the hotel at the end of the day, she was surprised to find that Marcy wasn’t there waiting for her. She was always there at the end of the day. And maybe Louis wouldn’t admit it, but she looked forward to the time they spent together like that-- riding in a car with one another, Louis talking about her day or asking Marcy about hers --and she hated that she was being robbed of it without even a little notice. 

Louis: Marcyyyyy 

Marcy: Yes? 

Louis: where r u?

Marcy: I have a few more things to take care of here. I’ve been asked to work as Sarah’s assistant for the next couple of weeks, so today I’ll ride back with her. Did you need me? 

Louis hesitated. She didn’t need Marcel, but she wanted her there anyway. Try as she might, she couldn’t invent a reason for Marcy to join her, and she tried typing out a few responses before giving up and answering back with a simple “no” along with a nonsensical string of emojis that she hoped would keep Marcy’s attention for a moment. 

Marcy: I’ll see you in the morning. 

Louis: u better

-

True to her word, Marcy did come to pick Louis up the next morning. The excitement Louis had felt the previous day about meeting Sarah had faded, though, and so Louis was still sleep-rumpled and grouchy when she heard Marcy’s familiar knock on her door. 

“Louis? The car will be ready in ten. Are you decent?” Marcy’s question was followed by the sound of her using her key card to come inside. “Are you coming out?” 

“Came out when I was twelve, Marcelery stick!” Louis shook her head as she bent down to get her shoe from under the chair where she’d kicked it off the night before. “Haven’t I told you that story already?” 

Marcy sighed. “Yes, you’ve told me that story. I was really asking if you were ready to leave your room, but I can see you’re not quite. Have you eaten yet?” 

Instead of answering, Louis hissed like an angry cat before sitting on the floor to get her shoes on her feet. It had its desired effect-- Marcy laughed, pushing her glasses up when she scrunched her nose and they fell down a bit. 

“That’s a no, then. I have those bars you like and some fruit in my bag.” Even as she spoke, Marcy was already moving toward the coffee maker in the room to get water for Louis’ tea. “Apple okay?” 

“Better than okay, thanks love.” 

Marcy turned to Louis and beamed. “Good. I wanted the banana for myself.” 

“That’s what my date said,” Louis replied quickly, quietly pleased with herself when Marcy snort laughed from the other side of the room. With Marcy there making her tea, Louis found it easier to get ready for the day, her mood slowly improving as they got in the car together. 

“Just so you know, I’ll be coming back with Sarah later. She needs to get in a bit more practice before the tour really starts tomorrow, and asked me to stay with her.” Marcy fingered the pearls she always wore, moving the strand around her neck as she spoke. “Of course you can still text me if you need something, but if I don’t answer right away that’s the reason.” 

Suddenly Louis’ good mood was a bit less good. “Oh, right, ‘course.” She shrugged, pulling out her phone and opening up a game that she hadn’t played in months just to try to appear more casual than she felt. “Figured that after last night, no worries.” Marcel watched her for a moment-- Louis could see her from the corner of her eye --and then turned away with a decisive nod. 

“Right, right.” Louis glanced toward the mirror at the front of the car, trying to catch the look on Marcy’s face, but Marcy simply pushed her glasses up her face and turned to look out the window, seemingly oblivious. 

That day, Louis found she wasn’t quite so excited to talk with Sarah. Sure, they’d had a great time the day before, but when Louis thought about it she wasn’t that cool. And her drumming seemed to have worsened, too. It wasn’t bad at all, just-- not great. Or at least not enough to feel properly excited over. Still, at the end of the day she wished Sarah luck with her extra practice before heading back to the hotel. 

When she got to her room, Louis immediately made herself a little drink from the minibar and ordered chips and a burger, putting on cartoons to watch as she ate. Usually the night before tour she’d be too excited to stay in, always trying to sneak out for a drink or a dance or, if she was feeling particularly wound up, a nice quick shag in the loo with a girl she’d met during one of the aforementioned activities. 

She chalked her sour mood up to the changes in the band-- she didn’t particularly love it when new things were thrust in front of her without warning --and a lack of sleep. She ended up drifting off in front of the television, waking up to the sound of Marcy knocking at her door, groaning when she heard the beep of the door being opened. It didn’t feel possible that she’d slept until morning, but apparently that was the case. 

“Oh, you’re here,” Marcy said. She was literally clutching her pearls, and Louis chuckled to herself at the sight before answering. 

“Where else would I be? How’s it morning already; feels like I barely slept.” 

Marcy shook her head. “It’s not even midnight, silly. I tried texting you and when you didn’t answer I was worried you’d gone somewhere without telling me.” She sat on the edge of the bed, gathering Louis’ dirty dishes and stacking them on the tray that Louis had left by the bed. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time you haven’t snuck out the night before a big show. Oh, you’re not sick, are you?” 

Before Louis could respond, Marcy’s cool hand was against her brow. The touch made her smile, shaking her head a little. “No, no, not sick. Just felt like staying in, you know. Nothing the matter with that.” Marcy lowered her hand and Louis missed it just a little. 

“Alright.” Marcy seemed to realize that she was sitting on Louis’ bed while Louis was mostly naked-- she wore a bralette and boxer briefs, her blankets curled around her like a nest --and clasped her hands together, sitting up a little straighter and averting her eyes. “Well I’ll let you go back to sleep, then, and I’ll just--” 

She got up, grabbing the tray, and Louis was struck by the sudden need to keep her there a little longer. “Ehhh, Marshmallow, wait a minute.” Marcy turned, looking back at Louis with wide eyes. “Think you can bring me one of those melon things from the other night? To help me sleep?” 

“Oh. Melatonin , Lou. Not melons,” Marcy giggled, shaking her head. Louis just smiled at Marcy shortening her name. She didn’t do it often. “Yes, I’ll bring you some.” 

“Thanks. Need my beauty rest, y’know.” 

Marcy left and came back a few minutes later with the melatonin in hand, once again putting the pill on Louis’ tongue when she stuck it out. They said their goodnights and Marcy left, shutting off the light. 

-

Tour, as always, made Louis feel like her world was in a blender. There were moments of dizzying rush, long stretches of time that somehow still moved fast, and then periods of rest where it seemed like Louis was just trying to process everything as it settled around her just before the whole cycle began again. Marcy was Louis’ lifeline during tours, keeping her from getting too caught up in the faster bits and holding the important pieces steady when things slowed enough for Louis to pay attention to them. 

That was probably why Louis noticed her absence so much. It wasn’t as though Marcy stopped paying attention to her-- she’d still show up every morning and most nights to make sure everything was running smoothly. She was still Louis’ assistant, after all. She managed Louis’ schedule and helped her when she needed it most. 

But Marcy was also Sarah’s assistant now, too, and that meant that she often left Louis to go check in on Sarah instead, or traveled back to the hotel in Sarah’s car. It also meant that where she’d usually be at Louis’ side for hair and makeup, she was suddenly off helping Sarah get dressed or laughing at Sarah’s jokes. And with every passing day, it bothered Louis a little bit more. 

She figured she’d get over it. She had to, really. Marcy was good at what she did and that meant eventually she’d end up with more responsibility. This was just that, and definitely not anything else. At least that’s what Louis told herself until two weeks into the tour. 

The opening act was on, and since Louis had heard their set a few times already she decided she’d rather hang out in the green room than watch them from offstage. She was walking past one of the dressing rooms when Marcy’s laugh stopped her in her tracks. Peering in, she caught sight of Marcy and Sarah standing close to one another, Sarah’s hand in Marcy’s hair.The mental tour blender in Louis’ head whirred to life, and she leaned against the wall, trying to listen to what they were saying. 

“--it’s pretty, Marce, really. You’re so, so lovely.” Sarah’s voice was gentle-- delicate in a way that Louis always wished she could pull off but never quite did. When she tried to soften herself it ended up saccharine and soppy. Not like this at all. 

“Thank you, Sarah. Really. You always know the right thing to say.” Louis frowned, wondering how Sarah could ‘always’ do anything after only a couple weeks of knowing Marcy. “I’m so glad you’re around now.” 

“Come here, babe.” There was a soft shuffling and then the sound of Marcy sighing, and Louis clenched her fist, hating the thought of Marcel going to Sarah for comfort even though she couldn’t quite understand why. And then she heard the light smacking sound of a kiss. Without seeing it, she couldn’t know exactly what kind of kiss it was, but there was hardly any doubt in her mind that it had been a romantic one. Feeling ill, she turned around and stumbled to her dressing room, throwing herself down on the couch. 

There was no reason for her to be feeling this way, was the thing. Marcy was her assistant. An adorable nerd who Louis could always count on to have a bad pun at the ready and the details of her daily schedule memorized. Louis teased her, and she blushed or covered her eyes or tried to retort but ended up flubbing it. 

Louis had never even thought of kissing her-- hadn’t thought of her as someone who really got kissed --until she heard that tell-tale sound of puckering lips. Right? Suddenly she wasn’t sure. 

“Louis! Been looking for ya!” Niall burst into the room without knocking, shaking Louis from her thoughts. “Opener just finished, you’re on in twenty. Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, bit of an upset stomach, I’ll be fine.” She waved Niall off and gave herself a hard look in the mirror, slapping her cheeks lightly before whispering to herself. “You are fine, you’re just a bit off. Have a good show. That’s all you’ve gotta do.” 

She did have a good show. The crowd was fantastic, shouting the words to the band’s songs back at her as she bounced up onto her tiptoes and back down to the beat. Lianne and Vero and Sarah played perfectly, and when someone threw their pride flag and it landed in her open palm during the band’s overtly queerest song, she gave it a look, kissed it, and tossed it right back to the person with a wink. 

When she got offstage after the last encore, she was buzzing. Everyone else felt it too, apparently, because the whole band ended up going out that night. Niall pretended to turn a blind eye, but Louis knew she’d called ahead to get them entrance to the VIP area of the club they went to in addition to arranging for them to come and go without winding through the main floor. 

They had enough time to eat and change and have a round of drinks before heading out, and Louis was pleased that she hadn’t thought about Marcy through most of that time. Of course, in realizing she hadn’t been thinking of Marcy, Louis then was thinking of her, which made things a bit more complicated. Especially when Marcy showed up with Sarah to go out with everyone else. 

Sarah had her arm around Marcy’s shoulder, and Marcy looked more club appropriate than usual, which made Louis think she might’ve borrowed clothes from Sarah. Her stomach churned at the thought. Pursing her lips, she decided to try to bring things back to normal. 

“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia! Didn’t realize you’d dirty up so well!” Louis gave her a light shove, and Marcy winced. 

“Do I look alright?” Marcy looked down at herself, smoothing her hands over the t-shirt she was wearing. It had a psychedelic looking font on a bright white background that matched the trousers she’d put on, and was more casual than her usual clothes, but still more buttoned up than anyone else. Louis thought she looked great, especially when she noticed that Marcy still wore her signature strand of pearls. 

“Alright, yeah, alright.” Louis nodded, turning away to down the last of her drink before clapping her hands and declaring it was time to get moving. Off they went to the club. 

Marcy was a terrible dancer, to say the least. She had rhythm-- that wasn’t her problem, at least --but her movements were all over the place, arms flailing when she jumped around, her head bobbing to the beat. It was typical, when she did go out, that she’d knock a drink out of someone’s hand or bump into a stranger and send them flying into someone else. Tonight was no different, really. Except that this time Sarah was there. 

She danced with Marcy for most of the night, catching her arms when they went flying and bringing them back to earth, keeping her moving but making sure that she didn’t bump into anyone. Louis knew it was a good thing. She could see that Marcy was enjoying herself, and she wanted to feel happy about it. She just couldn’t.    

That was the reason that she ended up having too many drinks. Or it probably was, anyway. What really mattered is that she drank them. And drank them. And then, as the night was winding down, she decided she wanted a dance with Marcy. 

“Marsupial! Marrrscarpone! Marcyyyyy!” Louis shouted over the music as she made her way to Marcy and Sarah, flinging her arms around Marcy’s waist to hug her from behind when she got close. Marcy turned in her arms, lifting her up with a funny look on her face. “Dance with ME!” 

“Can you?” Marcy said, getting close to Louis’ ear so Louis could hear her. Louis nodded in response, moving her body to the music. It wasn’t the most coordinated she’d ever been, but it wasn’t bad. At least she didn’t think it was. And Marcy danced with her, though when the song ended she guided Louis over to the table instead of staying on the floor. 

“I wanna dance with you, Marcy baby,” Louis said, turning around to put her arms on Marcy’s shoulders to try to lead her back out to the floor. Marcy wasn’t having it. 

“Think you need water,” she said, pushing Louis into a seat. “I’ll be right back.” 

Louis didn’t want her to go, so she grabbed at Marcy’s arm, pulling her back so that she almost fell into the table. Louis reached up to touch her hair, the soft curls coming loose from her barrettes and creating a little halo around her head. Louis waved Marcy closer, and she leaned in to hear her. 

“I think you’re pretty,” Louis yelled, one hand over her heart for emphasis. 

Marcy pulled back and fixed Louis with a worried frown. “Water,” she yelled, making a drinking motion before heading off to the bar. Louis watched Sarah catch her on the way there, following her to the bar and glancing back over in Louis’ direction. Louis waved at her to let her know she knew she was being watched. 

“You’re not sly, Sarah. Slyrah,” Louis muttered to herself. 

After that, things went hazy. She remembered water and being sick on the pavement outside the hotel. She remembered Marcy helping her brush her teeth and setting a trash can beside her bed. Other than that, it was a blur. 

She woke with a splitting headache, grateful for hotel blackout curtains. She could see the edge of daylight around the windows of her room and it looked painfully bright. Turning over, she saw that Marcy had left paracetamol and water for her on the bedside table-- of course she had --and wondered what she’d done to deserve such a good assistant and friend. 

“Marcy, Marcy, Mr. Darcy,” Louis said to herself, voice rough from sleep. 

“Oh, you’re awake--” 

Louis turned, eyes widening as she realized Marcy was in her room. It looked as though she’d slept on the couch overnight, and had been awake and reading for a while, reclining on the couch with a pillow behind her and blanket over her feet, still in her formal looking pajamas. Shoving her glasses up on her face, Marcy cocked her head to look at Louis with a worried frown. 

“You didn’t seem very coherent last night, so I stayed here. I hope that’s alright with you-- I just didn’t want to leave you alone.” 

“Oh, right, yeah. S’alright. Thanks for taking care of me.” 

Marcy shrugged. “You know it’s what I do.” She moved as though to get up, and Louis had the desperate urge to keep her around, but didn’t want to just ask her to stay. “Do you think you can eat something? I can call room service.” 

“Have you eaten already?” Marcy shook her head, and Louis relaxed a little. That would be an easy way to get her to stick around. “Then yeah, maybe get something for both of us. Full English for me, best cure for a hangover.” 

While Marcy made the call, Louis dragged herself out of bed to shower, moving the-- thankfully still empty --trash can that Marcy had left at her bedside back to its proper place. When she got a look at herself, she realized she looked even worse than she felt. Her hair was sticking up in a thousand angles thanks to the product she’d had in it for the show, and her eye makeup had turned her into a raccoon overnight, large dark circles surrounding her eyes like a mask. She also had a bit of sick crusted onto her cheek, which almost made her wretch. 

After a shower and brushing her teeth, she felt the tiniest bit better. Her head still ached, and her stomach still felt a little uneasy, but she was pretty sure that brunch with Marcy would help. As she went to go back into her room, she could hear Marcy talking with someone, and she paused at the door, not wanting to walk out half naked if room service was being delivered. 

“I’ll come see you later tonight, I promise.” 

Alright-- probably not someone who worked at the hotel. Louis opened the door just a crack so that she could hear better. 

“That’s really sweet. You’re so thoughtful, Sarah.” 

Louis narrowed her eyes, lip curling in disgust. Stupid Sarah. Sweet and thoughtful? Hardly. 

“You’re just exactly what I needed at exactly the right time. It’s amazing, really.” 

There was a knock at the door and Marcy said goodbye so that she could answer it to let their room service in. Louis’ stomach had returned to its former queasiness, and she battled with it for a moment while Marcy set everything out on the small dining table, humming to herself. 

Louis shut the bathroom door carefully, giving herself another moment before facing Marcy. She took a hard look at herself in the mirror, hoping to find answers to what was bothering her by studying her own face. All it told her was that she was cleaner and sadder than she had been earlier, with no further explanation. Rude. 

When Marcy left a bit later, Louis curled up in bed, tired from pretending that everything was fine and still feeling awfully hungover. Marcy had ended up organizing Louis’ things after they finished eating, claiming she needed something to do with her hands even though Louis was pretty sure it was just something she expected Louis wouldn’t do on her own. But it meant she’d stayed for a while, at least, and that was something. 

It felt to Louis like they hadn’t talked in so long, and all she wanted was to have some time to herself with Marcy, just sitting around and talking about the music they’d been listening to or the books they’d read lately. Maybe put on a film so that Louis could talk through parts of it to make Marcy laugh. Something. Anything, really. 

Rolling face down into her pillow, Louis wondered aloud why she was missing Marcy so much. “She’s still around, you tit. Just like always. Nothing different.” Taking a deep breath, Louis screamed, the sound muffled by the pillow, and then turned to flop onto her back. 

She stared up at the ceiling of the hotel, thinking over everything, but mostly replaying the sound of the kiss she’d heard Sarah and Marcy share and the thick, oily feeling that had bubbled up inside of her when she’d watched them dancing together the night before. 

“There’s no reason to be jealous of Sarah,” Louis said, closing her eyes at the memory. “She’s not done anything wrong. Marcy is your assistant, not your girlfriend.” A quiet voice inside Louis’ mind took that moment to whisper, but what if she was? And just like that, it all hit Louis like a cartoon anvil to the head. 

She liked Marcy. Like liked her. Thinking back over their relationship, all the teasing she’d done and the way she’d tried her best to make Marcy blush and laugh was all similar to what she’d do if she were flirting with someone. And while it was true that she hadn’t ever thought of Marcy as a potential sexual partner before, she realized that she’d still sort of unconsciously put herself on display in the hopes that Marcy might think of her that way. 

Thinking about it made Louis wince with discomfort. She’d likely ruined any chance she ever could’ve had with Marcy just by doing that, and whatever happened she resolved to be better about that stuff. No more answering the door barely dressed or pulling her shirt off after a show because she liked the shade Marcy’s cheeks turned when she was caught off guard. 

The real problem, though, was that there didn’t seem to be anything Louis could do with her realization. On one hand, as much as she hated to think about it, it was possible that Marcy and Sarah were already starting to see one another. It certainly seemed that way. On the other, Louis actually wasn’t sure it was allowed for anyone in the band to date Marcy, since she technically worked for-- or at least with --the band. 

Of course that would mean that Sarah and Marcy couldn’t date either, and if Louis asked about it and they were already seeing each other, she also risked upsetting Marcy or possibly making her lose her job, none of which sounded like what Louis wanted to do. She laid in bed thinking about it for far too long with absolutely nothing becoming any clearer until finally she realized she might have a way to at least figure something out: Niall. 

Yes, Niall was the band’s manager. But she was also pretty cool, and she’d been doing this for a long time. Louis was almost certain she’d know what to do, and there was a good chance she wouldn’t press for details if Louis didn’t offer them. So Louis texted her. 

Niall responded with her room number, inviting Louis over to chat instead of texting, and within minutes Louis was knocking on her door. Niall’s room was smaller than Louis’, with no table to eat at and no couch, only a desk and a rolling chair instead. Louis sat in the chair, tucking one leg underneath herself and letting the other hang over the side, and Niall watched her get settled, clearly amused. 

“You’re gonna be comfortable like that?” 

Kicking her leg back and forth, Louis shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Niall sighed, rolling her eyes. “What can I do for you then?” 

“Right, so I have a totally random question that’s got nothing to do with anything at all.” Louis looked down at her hands, studying her nails for a moment until Niall cleared her throat. “Oh! Yeah, so I was wondering what the rules are for dating. Like within the band or, like, people who work with the band. That sort of thing.” 

“Hm.” Niall inhaled through her teeth and Louis looked up to see her making a displeased face. “Say more.” 

That wasn’t what Louis had been expecting. “Y’know, say someone in the band starts seeing someone who works with the band, like. Just something like that. Not asking for anyone in particular, just had a thought about it.” 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Niall studied Louis for a moment, lips pursed as if she was waiting for Louis to crack and say something else. When she realized it wasn’t happening, she cocked her head to the side. “You do know I’m married, don’t you Louis?” 

Louis couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, nearly falling out of the chair. Niall didn’t look very pleased, but Louis couldn’t help her reaction. The idea of her being into Niall was just fucking hilarious, okay? When her laughter died down a little, Niall cleared her throat. 

“If you’re done?” 

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just, ehh, I’m not asking for you. Or anyone, just--” 

“I know you’re not asking for me, arsehole. Fuckin’ idiot kids these days, Christ.” Louis scoffed-- she was hardly a child --but Niall quieted her with a shake of her head. “I’m asking because it makes a difference. Did you know?” 

“I mean I’ve seen you wear a ring, so yeah. I figured. But what does it matter?” 

“You know Shawn?” 

Louis rolled her eyes. “Hair and makeup Shawn? Obviously. Why?” 

“That’s my wife,” Niall deadpanned. Louis’ jaw dropped. 

“She’s your--” Louis shook her head, trying to think of any clues she might’ve had to suggest that Niall and Shawn were married. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in details she simply hadn’t paid attention to: two suitcases instead of one, phone chargers and water glasses on both nightstands, all the little things that showed Niall wasn’t alone. “Where is she?” 

“When I knew you were coming I asked if she minded stepping out for a bit; figured you’d want the privacy. So-- why do you ask?” 

“Wait, I have questions though! I mean how’d--” 

“I am not answering any of your questions til you answer mine. Go on then.” Niall raised her eyebrows and Louis frowned, not entirely sure how to proceed. “It’s Marcy, isn’t it?” Louis felt her eyes widen, and she immediately tried to control her expression. It was too late, though. Niall had a smug smile on her face as she nodded to herself. “Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” 

“Nothing’s happened.” Louis shifted uncomfortably. “I’m just asking.” 

“Well, if you were to have an interest in dating someone who works with the band, there’d be some paperwork to sign first off. And if that person were your assistant, we might have to shift her over to someone else to make it a little easier on the both of you. But it’s allowed.” 

“Alright.” Louis tugged at the drawstring on her hoodie, not yet wanting to look Niall in the eye. “That’s good, then.” The two of them sat in silence for a minute before Niall spoke. 

“Shawn and I got married about four years back, but we met on the road a year before that. We try to work tours together, but it’s not always possible. When we do, though, we try to be pretty low-key, minimal PDA and all that.” Louis looked up to see Niall leaning back, a fond smile on her face. “Since I know you were curious.”

“How’d you figure it out at first?” 

Niall twisted her ring around her finger for a moment before responding, her expression softening a little. “Didn’t take much. We met, I took one look at her smile, and I slid into her DMs later that night. She was worried I was a player so she didn’t indulge me at first, but after getting to know each other for a few weeks we both realized we’d basically been dating.” Sighing softly, Niall looked back at Louis. “And what finally clued you in on Marcy, hm?” 

Louis could feel herself blushing, and pulled the drawstring of her hoodie on both sides so it would swallow up her face. Niall cackled, but Louis could see she was still waiting for an answer. “She started spending all this time with Sarah, yeah? And I missed her, but I didn’t realize there was more to it than that til last night.” Thinking of it made Louis go silent, the memory running on repeat through her mind. 

“What happened last night?” 

“Oh, right, well-- I think I heard Sarah kissing her.” Louis looked up at Niall to see her reaction, surprised when she looked a little doubtful. “And then we went out dancing, and they were dancing together most of the night, and I went a bit overboard with drinks because of it. Then this morning I overheard Marcy talking to Sarah on the phone, saying something about seeing her tonight.” 

“Wait, how’d you overhear her conversation? You didn’t stand outside her room or anything, did ya?” 

“No!” Louis kicked the foot of the bed. “I’m not that sort of creep. She stayed over to make sure I was alright last night, and when I got out of the shower I could hear her talking. Didn’t realize it was to Sarah til she was almost done.” 

Niall laughed, shaking her head. “Hold up, you mean to say you were a drunken mess over this woman and she stayed over to take care of you? And then sat down to breakfast with you the next morning? And you’re worried she doesn’t have feelings for you?” 

“It’s just-- that’s Marcy though! That’s how she is!” 

“With you, Louis!” Niall scooted forward on the bed until she could reach out to put her hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You need to go talk to her. Sort this out.” 

“Now?” 

“It’s early enough. Go on, go.” 

With that, Niall shooed her out of the room, and Louis walked down to the other end of the hall, bypassing her own door and heading for Marcy’s. She stood outside of it for what felt like forever but was probably no more than a few minutes before knocking, certain that if Marcy opened the door she’d be there with Sarah, annoyed at Louis’ intrusion. 

Naturally she was surprised when Marcy opened the door already dressed for bed, her curls held up by a clip at the top of her head instead of her usual barrettes and her glasses slipping down her nose. Louis went up on tiptoe for a moment, trying to sneak a look inside Marcy’s room before asking if she could come inside. Marcy seemed to notice, though, and turned around to look inside her room at whatever she imagined Louis was looking at. 

“Can I come in?” Louis asked after they’d greeted one another. Marcy nodded, stepping aside. Her room was set up like Niall’s, and Louis went to sit in a copy of the chair she’d just left a few minutes earlier, too tense to let herself get comfortable this time. 

“What’s wrong?” Marcy sat at the edge of the bed, leaning in toward Louis a little. “You seem upset.” 

“No, no, not upset-- just nervous, is all.” 

“Why would you be nervous? Is it about the next show? Or-- oh, did I forget something?” 

Louis laid her hand over Marcy’s, shaking her head. “No, you never do.” She got lost in Marcy’s eyes for a moment before realizing she was still holding her hand, and quickly pulled it back into her lap, tugging at the bottom edge of her hoodie. “It’s-- uh, well, it’s potentially awkward.”

“I’m used to that,” Marcy said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve met me, haven’t you? Awkward might as well be my middle name.” 

“Oh stop!” Louis laughed, pulling her knee up and tucking it under herself so that she could get a bit more comfortable in the chair. “You’re not nearly as awkward as you pretend to be. And besides, I’m going to be the awkward one now.” 

“Alright?” Marcy looked a little incredulous, though seemingly happy as always to listen to what Louis had to say.. 

“Yeah, so I’ll just--” Louis swallowed, screwing up her courage and willing herself to just spit it out. “I have something to tell you, and I haven’t been hiding it or anything, I promise. I’ve only just realized it all myself, and it’s-- I’m not sure how it’s going to go.” 

Marcy blinked back at Louis, giving her a small nod of encouragement but not saying anything-- probably because Louis hadn’t actually given her anything to respond to yet. 

“Okay. So I realize that I’m probably too late and that I’ve already fucked up any chance I’d have, and I get why you’d be interested in someone like Sarah. She’s obviously nicer than me, and probably treats you better than I ever have.” Louis’ stomach churned as she thought of how awful she’d probably made Marcy feel. “I probably shouldn’t even tell you now, like it’s just selfish of me I guess.” 

“Tell me what, Louis?” Marcy’s brow was furrowed, and she was giving Louis a froggy frown that made Louis smile in spite of herself. 

“I like you.” Saying it was a relief, and Louis exhaled as a bit of weight was lifted from her chest. “If I’d realized sooner I probably could’ve made a difference, but I understand that you’d rather be with someone like Sarah. I don’t expect you to leave or anything-- I can’t imagine not having you around somehow, really --but whatever you decide, even if I’m sad about it I’ll understand, yeah?” 

“Why would you be sad?” Any tension or confusion that had been evident on Marcy’s face a moment before was only stronger now, and Louis was a little taken aback by Marcy not understanding why Louis would miss her. 

“What do you mean? I’d be sad because I fucked up my chances with you, probably by being such an ass, trying to make you blush and calling you stupid nicknames all the time. And now you’re falling for someone else who’s not an oblivious dick that doesn’t recognize how great you are, and I hate it. Or-- not hate it, I guess. I’ll be happy for you, I will! It’s just--”  

Marcy’s eyes were wide as she put her finger to Louis’ lips, silencing her abruptly. “Do you-- does that mean you really like me? Like, like me, like me?” 

Louis nodded, unsure why Marcy seemed surprised by her own statement. “Of course I like you. I mean I’ve just said it, haven’t I, Marshmallow?” Without warning, Marcel’s mouth was against Louis’, soft and tasting vaguely like cherry chapstick. The kiss didn’t last long, just a press of their lips together before Marcel pulled back, staring at Louis as if she’d been the one surprised by a kiss and not the other way around. 

Bringing her hand to her lips, Louis could feel a smile creeping across her face. “You’re not upset with me.” Marcy shook her head, blushing fiercely. 

“Nooo. I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now.”  

“Liked me, liked me?” Marcy rolled her eyes and nodded, and Louis barely held back a laugh. “How long?” Louis was so pleased she felt like she was moments away from running out into the hallway and whooping with joy for everyone to hear. 

“Long. Forever long, practically. Well-- I’ve wanted to kiss you since before I knew you. Used to go to your gigs before you guys blew up. And then, um, I liked you right away.” 

“Even with the teasing and everything?” 

“Especially with that,” Marcy said, ducking her head and looking away from Louis. “I sort of like it when you call me funny names. Even like it when you wind me up a bit, because in the end you always turn it into something I want to laugh about too. Is that-- god, that’s embarrassing, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it really is, love.” Marcy gave Louis a fierce look for just a moment before the two of them broke into laughter. After a moment, Marcy hooked her feet around Louis’, tugging her forward. Louis looked back expectantly. 

“I have to ask, though-- what was all that stuff about Sarah? Did you think just because I was splitting my work that I liked her or something?” 

Louis shook her head, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment as she considered how much she’d probably gotten wrong in all of this. “That might’ve been part of it. But last night I happened to hear the two of you talking and it, eh, sounded like you were kissing? That’s what made me realize I wasn’t just missing you as a friend.” 

It was Marcy’s turn to blush, and she bit her lower lip to stifle a laugh before responding. “She kissed my cheek, Lou. You got jealous over a cheek kiss!” She couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out of her, and Louis wanted to be annoyed but wasn’t able to, so she just waited for Marcy to get it out. “That explains last night, too!” 

“Which part of last night?” 

“Dancing-- you kept watching us and I kind of thought maybe you were looking at Sarah? She knows how I feel about you-- I told her, but only after she guessed it with how I talked about you --and she said she didn’t think that was it, but I didn’t believe her.” 

“At least there wasn’t anything worse than that.” Marcy bit her lip at that, eyebrows going up, and Louis leaned forward to poke her thigh. “Was there?” 

“You kept calling her Slyrah, which didn’t make any sense. And you wouldn’t stop touching my hair.” 

Louis breathed a small sigh of relief. “That’s honestly not as bad as I thought it might’ve been.” 

“You also said you needed me to stay last night.” Marcy’s face softened, and she smiled as she spoke, hunching her shoulders a little as though she was going to wrap herself in a hug. “I was going to anyway, but when we got back to your room you had this moment of seeming to sober up all at once? Didn’t last, obviously. But you guided me into your room and-- it was nice, is all.” 

“Well I don’t remember it, which is awful. But I’m glad you do.” Louis took Marcy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, rubbing her thumb over Marcy’s pulse until she visibly relaxed. “I’m certainly glad you stayed-- I liked waking up with you there.” 

“Yeah?” Marcy’s nose twitched as she tried and failed to hide her smile. “I liked it too, actually.” 

“Better than me answering my door half naked most mornings, or no?” Louis raised her eyebrows, grinning at the blush she saw rising on Marcy’s cheeks. 

“That’s harder to answer than you’d think,” Marcy said, pushing her glasses up. She looked like she was about to get out data charts and give a statistical breakdown of her preferences about how she’d seen Louis throughout the mornings they’d known each other. “I think the ideal scenario would be to have both at once.” 

“Oh really? So you wanna wake up with me naked then, my little Marcelebrity?” 

Louis expected a blush or a laugh, something like what she usually got from Marcel when she was teasing her. What she didn’t expect was the matter-of-fact “yes, please,” that Marcy gave her. Louis had to sit back for a moment, stunned, before responding. 

“Alright, love.” It was clear that Marcy hadn’t expected it to be quite so easy, her jaw dropping briefly until she schooled her face, and so Louis tacked on, “if it’s really what you’d like. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, obviously.” 

“No, no, I’d like you to stay.” Marcy grabbed Louis’ hand, scooting closer to her as if worried she’d need to physically keep Louis there. “I mean, unless you don’t want to, which is okay of course. I just thought that--” 

“Marcy?” Louis cut her off and Marcy looked up at her, lips slightly parted and eyes wide and expectant. Louis had been planning to reassure her, tell her it was fine and that of course she wanted to stay. But her lips were so pink and her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes made Louis think of being barefoot in the grass during the summer, hot and happy and wild, and she knew she had to change course. “Can I kiss you now?” 

“Uh huh,” Marcy said, her eyes flitting down to Louis’ lips and back up again. Though she’d already initiated their first kiss, Marcy seemed shy now, moving toward Louis slowly, tongue peeking out to wet her lips every few seconds. 

Louis moved closer, lifting her hand to Marcy’s cheek and brushing over it with the pads of her fingers, her touch drifting back to trace the shell of Marcy’s ear-- it clearly tickled her, and she rolled her head to the side like a cat leaning in to have its head pet, making Louis’ heart melt just a little. Finally Louis’ hand was at the back of Marcy’s neck, brushing against the short curls there as Louis guided her closer until their lips were almost-- but not quite --touching. 

Marcy had stopped breathing, and Louis smiled to herself, her own nerves manifesting in a bit of false bravado that she thought probably came off as confidence. She exhaled against Marcy’s lips, nudging at them gently with her own and huffing a little laugh when she heard Marcy take in a shaky breath. “That’s it,” she said, pressing her lips to Marcy’s and then pulling back. “One little step at a time.” 

Their kisses were soft, just the meeting of their mouths at first, but they quickly grew first longer and then deeper, Marcy opening up to Louis’ tongue with little hums and sighs and appreciative noises that made Louis want to never stop kissing her, ever. When Louis pulled back for air and to get properly comfortable on the bed, Marcy whined, chasing her mouth with an adorable pout that Louis couldn’t help but call attention to. 

“You want more, sweetheart? I promise I’m not done with you yet.” 

“I certainly hope not. I’d be very disappointed if you were.” 

“Can’t have that, can we?” Louis settled back against the pillows, opening up her arms to allow Marcy to join her. Once they were together again, Louis kissed the end of Marcy’s nose before leaning back to ask, “now where were we?” 

Marcy took her glasses off, putting them on the bedside table closest to her, and then put her hand on Louis’ waist, bringing her closer. “Pretty sure you were teasing me with some incredible kisses.” She snuck one hand beneath the back of Louis’ shirt, fingers tracing Louis’ waistband with an almost ticklish touch. “And I am very ready to get back to it.” 

“Oh are you, now? Well then that’s what we should do.” Louis leaned in and Marcy rose up to meet her, opening up to her kiss instantly. It was easy to fall back into the rhythm they’d been building, Louis’ surprise and pleasure growing with every sound that Marcy made and every touch she dared to give. It wasn’t long before Louis pulled away for a breath, bringing her hands around to the front of Marcy’s pajama set. 

“Think I can take this off of you, Marcy mine? Some of us haven’t been lucky enough to see practically everything the other person has to offer, you know.” 

Giggling, Marcy batted Louis’ hand away, undoing the buttons carefully. “Guess that would’ve been a good way to get back at you-- show up topless and act like it was nothing.” 

“Might’ve figured it all out sooner, who knows?” Louis paused, watching as Marcy reached the last button, keeping her top together with her hands and looking back with a glimmer in her eyes. 

“I could’ve had you that easily? Really?” She gave Louis a little half smile, looking up through her lashes, and a familiar softness rose up in Louis’ chest. It was that particular fondness she’d often felt toward her assistant that she’d chalked up to appreciation mixed with mild lesbian tension, but which she now understood was something more. 

It struck her then just how long she’d had feelings for Marcy. It really was ridiculous that it had taken being afraid of losing her to make Louis see it for what it was. “Ehh-- maybe so? I’m a bit thick though, so I might’ve needed the time.” 

Marcy hummed in response, giving Louis a knowing look that said “yes, you are thick but I like you anyway,” and Louis slid her hands down over the silky fabric to lie over Marcy’s own, a quirk of her eyebrow her silent way of asking permission to open the top. When Marcy nodded, Louis slipped her fingers under the shirt, moving them up and exposing a little more flesh along the way until she reached the collar and flipped it back all the way. 

“Oh yeah, one look at these and I’d have been gagging for it, Jesus.” Marcy laughed, probably thinking Louis was exaggerating, but she wasn’t. She already liked Marcy as a person, but her tits were gorgeous, bigger than Louis’ and utterly mouthwatering. Louis brushed over Marcy’s nipples with the backs of her hands, smiling when they peaked beneath her touch. 

“You know how I’ve felt all this time, then. Wanting you like I did.” Marcy looked down, a little like she was trying to hide, and Louis leaned back into her space, kissing her until she came around, wishing she’d done this much sooner. 

“You say you liked the teasing, but I think I need to make it up to you for practically torturing you like I did, hm?” Louis sucked a kiss to Marcy’s neck, working her way over collarbone and sternum slowly and deliberately, letting her hands roam Marcy’s skin. She paused, mouth poised above Marcy’s breast so that her lower lip brushed the hard nub of Marcy’s nipple. “Show you just how good you deserve to have it.” 

The moan that Marcy let out when Louis sucked on her nipple shot straight to Louis’ clit, and Marcy arching into her touch only fueled her desire. As fun as teasing was, she wanted nothing more than to touch Marcy-- to make her come any way that she wanted and leave her boneless and sated, wrapped up in Louis’ arms for the night and every night in the foreseeable future. 

She pulled off of Marcy’s breast with an obscene pop, grinning at the glazed look in Marcy’s eyes and the way her lower lip was caught between her teeth. Everything about her was so wonderfully pink, all rosy blush and ripe fruit, and Louis’ heart raced just knowing how close she was to being able to make her feel good. “Alright if I touch your pussy?” 

Marcy’s eyes widened, and she nodded, panting softly when she opened her mouth to speak. “Yeah, yes please, I’d like that so much.” 

“So polite, aren’t you?” Louis still couldn’t help teasing her a little, even if it meant making things harder for herself in the moment. She slipped the tip of her fingers beneath the waistband of Marcy’s pajama bottoms, feeling the elastic of her knickers. “Impeccable manners.” 

Louis lowered her mouth to Marcy’s other breast, giving it the same sort of attention she’d given to the other one as she toyed with the edge of Marcy’s knickers, letting her fingertips breach them with intentionally slow movements until she could feel the top of Marcy’s pubic hair. It gave Louis a thrill not unlike the one she had always gotten when she’d watched Marcy get exasperated with being teased, though it was stronger and so much better now. Above her, Marcy moaned wantonly, needy but not quite to the point of begging. 

When Louis pulled off and went to kiss Marcy’s lips, she intentionally took her hand out from beneath Marcy’s knickers, catching Marcy’s broken whine in her mouth. It only meant it was that much sweeter when she finally stroked over Marcy’s cunt through the damp cotton of her knickers. 

“Oh my god baby, yes,” Marcy said, pulling off and bucking up into Louis’ touch. “Thank you, yes, please.” 

“Reaaaally good manners.” Louis chuckled, but she was more aroused than amused, Marcy’s reactions stoking her desire. She leaned in to kiss Marcy again, giving her a moment to get used to the way she was being touched before Louis moved her hand lower and pulled the crotch of Marcy’s knickers aside to touch her directly. 

The action immediately made Marcy moan, and she grabbed at Louis’ arm, trying to push it down to encourage her. Louis stopped kissing her so that she could sit back for a moment and just watch the usually buttoned up Marcy come undone a little, drunk on her sounds as much as the fact that it was Louis who was causing them. 

“Ahh fuck, fuck, don’t stop, please don’t, please.” Marcy gripped Louis’ arm a little harder, and Louis wondered if she’d have little finger shaped bruises there the next day. 

“Don’t worry, love, I’m not stopping yet. But you have to tell me when you want more.” Heat pooled low in Louis’ belly, and under normal circumstances she’d be itching to touch herself as well. As it was she thought she might end up coming untouched from the sheer pleasure of watching Marcy get off for the first time. 

“Uh huh,” Marcy said, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, more please.” 

“More how?” Louis asked, voice rough with desire. 

“Inside please? Can you just--” Marcy stopped short, moaning when Louis adjusted her hand so that her thumb was over Marcy’s clit and she had just one finger inside her. “More, Lou, please?” 

“Need you out of those pajamas then, and I’ll have to stop for a moment. Is that--” Marcy let go of Louis’ arm, wiggling out of her pajama bottoms faster than Louis thought possible, all without really disrupting what Louis was doing. It caught her off guard, and she shook her head. “Polite and incredibly efficient. That’s my girl.” Marcy hummed, reaching out to caress Louis’ face. 

“More, please, baby.” 

Louis was three fingers deep in no time, and beginning to wonder how she’d be able to get Marcy out of her knickers so that Louis could give her the ‘more’ she’d likely soon be asking for. “You think I can get these off you, love?” 

Marcy whined and then shimmied out of them, only displacing Louis for a moment before she was able to return to what she’d been doing, biting back a giggle when Marcy thanked her. “Feels so good, Lou, you feel so good inside me.” Louis leaned over to kiss her way up Marcy’s stomach, her eyes darting up to see Marcy watching her with sex glazed eyes. 

“Do you want more, baby?” 

“Yes. Please, Lou. I need it, need you.” Marcy opened her legs wider, kicking Louis a bit in the process though Marcy didn’t notice and Louis didn’t care. It was impossibly hot to watch someone who she’d known as always so careful and organized come undone beneath her, and all she cared about was feeding into it. Still, she could feel the intensity of what was building between them and wanted to check in for a moment. 

Threading her hand through the hair at the back of Marcy’s neck, Louis lifted her up just a bit, Marcy’s eyes snapping open at the shift in position as her cunt tensed around Louis’ hand. “S’alright, love, I’ve got you haven’t I?” Marcy nodded, and Louis kissed her, curling her hand to stroke at Marcy’s g-spot as she did. “Have you been fisted before, baby?” 

“Yeah, loads,” Marcy said, a dopey grin on her face even as she ground down on Louis’ hand. “Love it, Lou. Love taking it.” 

The thought made Louis’ clit throb. “Yeah? Fuck, alright then. Just ask for it when you’re ready, can you?” 

“Mmm, thank you.” Lips puckering slightly, Marcy tilted her head forward for another kiss, and Louis couldn’t help but give it to her, marveling at how soft and pliant she’d gone in so little time. Louis eased her back down slowly, focus shifting to the way it felt to be inside Marcy, tight and expansive all at once, open in ways that Louis never could’ve expected. 

Louis slowed her rhythm so that she could push in deeper and was rewarded with a long, throaty moan and a desperate plea for more that made her tuck her thumb against her palm, her whole hand easing inside of Marcy’s pussy like it was made to fit there. Louis had fisted a couple of women before, but it was never quite like this. She’d never had such a live connection between her hand and her cunt before, the sensation of her hand fucking Marcy somehow resonating inside of herself as well. 

“Yeah, fuck baby, that’s good isn’t it?” Louis stroked up Marcy’s belly, toying with her nipple just to watch the way Marcy’s jaw went slack with it. “You’re just good at all of it, aren’t you, love? Fucking perfect.” Marcy was too far gone to do anything but nod. Louis smiled, only just holding back a laugh, and let herself get lost in the sight of her hand sunk deep inside of someone she knew she was lucky to have. 

When Marcy came, Louis had felt it building up for a while. Somehow Marcy was like an open book for her, all the words spelled out and the story completely engrossing. She sensed the tension and release in Marcy’s body, and could tell when it started to sync completely with her own. She asked Marcy if she’d touch her own clit then and Marcy had opened her mouth to answer with a noise that Louis knew was a yes when Marcy’s hand reached out to stroke between her legs. 

“Yeah that’s it, baby, gonna come for me now, c’mon--” With Louis’ words, Marcy sunk down into her touch and released, wetness dripping from inside of her and soaking Louis’ hand and arm. She hadn’t quite squirted, but it was close, Louis could tell, and she thought about the fun they’d have trying for it again in the future. She didn’t doubt they’d have success. 

Marcy whined as Louis pulled her hand out, and though Louis was moving slowly she paused, eyes flitting up to meet Marcy’s to make sure it wasn’t too uncomfortable. “More,” Marcy said quietly, her smile going wide when Louis kissed her knee and shook her head. 

“More already, baby? You’ll be the death of me, won’t you?” Marcy raised her eyebrows, feigning shock, and Louis laughed at her. “Just wanna take my hand out for a little bit, have a taste of how sweet you are. Maybe kiss the shit out of you, too, yeah?” Marcy nodded at that, and Louis eased out of her, raising her hand to her mouth and licking at one of her puckered fingers. “Fucking heaven,” she sighed. 

Louis made a trail of slick up Marcy’s body and followed behind it with her tongue until she reached Marcy’s lips, kissing her long and deep and relishing the taste on her tongue. She filed the thought away, thinking it might make a good lyric one day, and sunk into the kiss, letting herself get completely caught up in the feel of Marcy’s body against hers. 

“I wanna fuck you too,” Marcy said after they’d been cuddling for a while. Louis had been focused on the way their breathing had synced up and the thumping of Marcy’s heartbeat in her ear, relaxing to the point that she’d almost drifted off. 

“Yeah? Even if fucking you completely wore me out?” 

“Especially then.” Marcy nipped at Louis ear. “Get to properly take charge of you for once.” 

“Ohh, shots fired! We’ll have to see how you do, won’t we?” 

Marcy rolled over and began inching her way down Louis’ body, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. “We will,” she said, looking back at Louis with more mischief in her eyes than Louis had ever seen before. Louis had no intention of saying no to that. 

--

The next morning came sooner than Louis or Marcy wanted it to. Their flight was leaving very early, and when the alarm rang out Louis was sure she’d only slept for a couple of hours at most. Marcy got up first, Louis watching her from the bed as she went to shower. Her neck had lovebites on both sides and Louis was certain her body did too though that would at least be covered up. She was kind of looking forward to bragging about having given Marcy a few marks, really. 

There was a knock at the door just as Louis heard the shower start up, so she tugged the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, peering out the peephole before deciding whether or not to answer. 

“Sorry to bother you Marc-- oh!” Sarah covered her mouth as she took in the sight of Louis, her eyes showing her smile. “Louis,” she said after a moment. “Hope I’m not disrupting anything.” 

“Marcy’s in the shower, and when I saw it was you I thought I’d answer.” 

“I’m glad you figured it out. I thought you liked her but she couldn’t believe it. She’s lovely though, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, pretty great.” Louis could feel herself making a pleased face that probably looked a little bit foolish, but she couldn’t hold it back even if she wanted to. “I’m quite lucky.” 

Sarah nodded, giving Louis a shrug. “I just stopped by to see if she’d seen my sunglasses, but it’s no big deal. I’ll see you two in a bit.” 

“I’ll ask her when she’s out.” 

Of course Louis then made the executive decision to join Marcy in the shower and completely forgot to mention Sarah or her sunglasses, too busy enjoying the feel of Marcy’s skin under the warm shower spray. That they managed to get out before the water turned cold felt like a feat to Louis until Marcy reminded her that hotels didn’t typically run out of hot water. 

Still they made it to the car on time, Niall raising her eyebrows when she saw Louis standing with her hand against the small of Marcy’s back, guiding her into the car instead of climbing in first. By the time they joined up with everyone else at the airport, the news had gotten around. Niall and Sarah fancied themselves matchmakers, apparently. As if Louis wouldn’t have figured things out on her own. 

Niall let Marcy stay on as Louis’ assistant until she walked into Louis’ dressing room-- without knocking, thank you very much --and found Louis half naked on Marcy’s lap about a month into their relationship. Even though Marcy was fully clothed, Niall explained that it set a bad standard for everyone else and shifted Marcy over to work with Sarah, giving Louis someone new and not half as good at their job as Marcy had been. Though she hated it, Louis understood and Marcy obviously did too, so neither of them complained too loudly about it. 

Fortunately Marcy’s absence really did make Louis’ heart grow fonder even if she thought it wasn’t possible, and by the end of their tour she was properly in love. At their final show, she got a little soppy and dedicated an over the top cover of Celine Dion’s ‘Because You Loved Me’ to Marcy, pointing her out where she stood in the VIP section. Even from a distance, Louis could see the way that Marcy squirmed, a little embarrassed but-- Louis now knew for certain --loving every minute of it.