One Direction Sickfics

Louis sick- for niallerspotato9

It had been a long time since One Direction pulled a fake sick stunt, but not one of the four boys was at all interested in filming a promo video for their up and coming album. It was a pointless and time-wasting scheme, the word was already out, their fans already knew and thanks to social media so did the rest of the world.

A natural born performer, as well as worrier, Harry was ordering everyone around. He nervous about this whole idea and had to have it all perfectly believable for when people started coming up to make sure the four mischievous lads weren't pulling their strings. Louis had already made a very dramatic phone call that consisted of fake gagging sounds and a quickly ended phone call, they probably had about twenty minutes until whoever had been sent to check on them turned up at the front door.

"Niall, go lay down in the bathroom!" Harry shoved his Irish friend down the hall.

"What if someone comes in?" Niall questioned, anxious about how this crazy plan was going to work. He wasn't the best actor around and he'd feel awful if he gave his friends away.

"Just pretend to be asleep, keep your eyes shut!" Louis yelled after him. Harry had already set him up on the sofa with a bucket by his head, filled with a rushed concoction of something that looked fairly similar to vomit as long as nobody got too close and smelled the cinnamon flavour of the oatmeal.

Liam stood in the middle of the room, looking lost. He groaned and let his shoulders fall, "Harry? What do I do?"

"Uh. . ." Harry floundered for a moment, "go to your room. Curtains, lights, headache," he rambled off, far too flustered to string together a plausible sentence.

Fortunately Liam got the idea. He sighed and headed for his room. He was just as keen as the other boys to get out of this stupid promo video but he thought that this whole idea was a bit immature. Had they given him another ten minutes he could've thought of something more intelligent, but it was too late now, everything was set in motion and he just had to follow through with it.

It didn't matter what his opinion was, he wasn't going to just hang his friends out to dry, even if their stupid ideas got them all into trouble.

Once Liam had gone Harry quickly heated a few wheat-packs in the microwave. Juggling them in his hands so that they wouldn't burn his skin he hid one behind a cushion on the couch he was planning on situating himself and chucked on in Louis' general direction, giving a hysterical laugh when he heard it hit the Doncaster boy's head.
"Smart thinking Styles, but were you trying to knock me out?" Louis yelled after the curly haired lad as he ran through the house, biffing another pack into the bathroom where Niall was settling on the floor with a blanket and a pillow, and then the last one went to Liam in his bedroom.

"Oi, what's this?" Louis grunted as it hit him hard on the chest.
"Fever!" Harry shouted, running off again. He paused in the kitchen, wondering if their was anything else he could do. To him, it all felt hugely false but then he'd orchestrated it, so of course it did. Maybe it was alright, just maybe they'd get away with this.

Then Harry spotted the other half of the puke mix Louis and Niall had made earlier sitting on the bench and he was off at another sprint, running to spill it into the toilet like they'd planned.
When the door bell rung both Harry and Niall paused, stemming the flow of blended oats, bread crumbs, bananas, and eggs. Well, an egg. Liam thought he was being helpful.

"Shit," Niall said. He waved Harry away, "go open the door. You're all red and sweaty from running around like a maniac. And Harry, calm down, this'll work."
He wasn't sure if his part would work, but he knew how convincingly Harry could act when put on the spot and that he'd be just fine.
Harry smiled and went for the door, walking slowly for the first time in half an hour. He'd give himself away in a heartbeat if he'd have run, his stomping footfalls would've alerted the someone behind the door right away.