anything for you
you bring my heart to it's knees, and it's killing me.
angryfighter!zayn fic just because of my feels, and thank you to lara for the prompt. this one's completely and a hundred percent for you. (zayn/niall, niall/harry)
--
(14:25pm)
zayn watches the ticking of the clock, watches as the seconds count down, each one pounding against his heartbeat like he's on life support.
the gloves are rough over his hands, as he presses them together in front of his face and he's never been one to pray, but right now he's praying to a god that he doesn't believe in, praying that tonight will turn out good.
the hoodie he's wearing is loose enough to let the waves of heat travel through his body from the locker room that he's in, and zayn would be biting his nails right now if not for the boxing gloves.
five minutes.
zayn keeps praying.
--
"how do you feel?" niall asks, turning over onto his side.
zayn's hand drifts down niall's hip, his fingers brushing the pale skin gently. he's not rough with niall, he's never been rough with niall. niall's so fragile, and sometimes zayn has to use every gram of strength inside his body to not crush the blond boy.
"i don't understand the question," zayn says.
"how do you feel?" niall repeats. "are you happy?"
zayn sighs. rolls onto his back. stares up at the ceiling for a few moments. listens to the sound of his own breathing. and then he shifts over so that he's facing niall again. "i'm tired."
"you're tired?"
"yes," zayn says. "nothing less and nothing more."
niall buries his face in the crook of zayn's elbow, and his hand slips around zayn's waist. "i want you to be happy."
"i know," zayn says. "i do too."
niall lets out a soft exhale of breath that sounds almost like a sigh, and he leaves a kiss on zayn's jaw that stays there long after niall's lips pull away.
"one day," he says, as his palm fits nicely around zayn's arm. "one day, you will be happy."
--
(14:31pm)
they're walking down the hallway and oh god, zayn's hands have never shaken more than they do now, and he keeps them pressed against his sides, moving mechanically and letting each step overtake the thoughts in his mind.
right foot, left foot. right foot, left foot. turn. right foot. right- no, left foot. right foot again. then left foot.
he can hear the crowd through the soundproof walls and he knows that somewhere among the vast sea of people, niall is also cheering, calling out his name, and zayn wonders if he'll be able to hear niall's voice out of all the others, if he'll even be able to see him, find him standing out among the rest like the love song cliche.
they're almost at the end of the corridor.
zayn stops praying.
--
"who did this to you?"
"no one, i'm fine," niall limps over onto the couch, picks up a can of tiger, pops it open with bruised and shaking fingers.
"was it harry?" zayn watches as niall takes a long chug of the beer, his words coming out slowly so that he doesn't lose his cool. "did he hit you?"
"i said i'm fine, leave it."
zayn immediately gets up. "i'm going to fucking kill him for this, how dare he fucking-"
"zayn, please," niall sighs, taking hold of zayn's arm with a grip that's so weak that zayn can't find the strength in him to break it.
"where is he?" zayn snarls. "i'll rip his throat out, fucking bastard-"
"i'm not going to tell you," niall tugs on zayn's arm, and zayn once boasted that he was the strongest fighter in high school, but now he succumbs to niall's frailty within a heartbeat.
"niall, he hurt you," zayn says quietly, reaching out to touch the broken skin on niall's cheek, the gash running across his face.
niall turns his face away. "it's my fault. i didn't stop him."
"why not?"
niall shrugs, and the small movement takes enough effort to make him lose his breath. that's when zayn starts to wonder just how much damage harry's done.
"why didn't you stop him, niall?" zayn asks again, voice trembling slightly at the thought of anyone laying a finger on the irish boy, anyone who dared to touch him the wrong way.
"i couldn't," niall says flatly. "i just couldn't, he- you don't know what we went through, zayn. i know you don't like to hear it, but he- i loved him."
zayn doesn't know who he wants to strangle more; himself, or niall. he's always had a temper, and it's going to flare up at any given moment. "he didn't-" he takes a deep breath through his gritted teeth, willing himself to calm down. "he didn't- he didn't fuck you, did he?"
niall looks down. "he tried."
every nerve in zayn's body explodes into rage, and he grabs niall by the shoulders, making the blond boy tense in pain. "is that why he hit you?" he asks quietly, his voice shaking in fury. "and you fucking let him?"
"leave it, zayn," niall whispers. "please."
"i'm not going to," zayn releases niall, and he slams the can of beer to the ground, watching it explode under pressure. "i'm going to kill him. i'm going to fucking pound his face in."
"zayn, no," niall whimpers. "leave him alone, please."
zayn turns to glare at niall. "why should i? because he tried to touch you? because he beat you up? or because you're still fucking in love with him?"
"i'm not!" niall shouts. "why don't you just let it go?"
"because no one," zayn says, his teeth clenching so hard that it's painful, that his jaw aches from the pressure, "no one hurts you and gets away with it from me."
--
(14:46pm)
zayn doesn't see niall. not at first.
but that's only because the minute he steps into the ring, his sights narrow in on the curly-haired boy standing on the other side, his green eyes burning, fists clenched beside his hips as he smirks, and zayn feels like exploding.
just looking at harry makes zayn's tongue curl back in disgust, and he remembers that this is the man who hit niall, and the anger gives him the strength to want to break harry's neck.
"round one, zayn malik versus harry styles," the referee announces into the gramophone, and zayn can feel the blood pounding inside his ears, rushing to his head as his body tenses up, bracing himself for the fight.
any moment now.
the bell goes off.
--
it's maybe three in the morning and zayn's swinging the keys on a chain from his pocket, he thinks his knuckles are maybe bruised and it hurts, but he doesn't complain.
he's not drunk (not really?) and he walks to his car, has some trouble finding the right one out of all the other black maseratis parked along the same line. his feet stumble maybe a little because he may have downed one shot or maybe two or maybe seven, just a little and the lights in front of his face are maybe a little blurred.
"harry, no."
zayn pauses, lets the keys on the chain clash together and clink softly in the silence.
"one time, i swear to god, and i'll let you go- just once, niall, just one time."
"you're drunk, we're not together anymore, please just-"
"for god's sake, just get onto your fucking knees and suck me."
zayn tilts his head to the side. curious. listening. maybe a little concerned.
he hears a whimper, a soft sigh, and a few groans.
so he doesn't know if he should find out what's going on it if he should leave. he's (maybe) drunk anyway. maybe it's all in his head.
he decides to go with the latter, to just mind his own business, which for now is to drive home without crashing his car. swings his keys up again. ignores the broken knuckles in his hand, the pain that jolts up his arm.
"help me!"
zayn stops one more time. leans forward against the window of his car, feels the cold glass against his forehead.
"shut up, there's no one there."
"there is- i heard someone-"
"shut up and suck me."
zayn pulls back from the window. stops swinging the keys on the chain, stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans. turns around. tries to keep his calm. maybe he's wrong. maybe he's right. maybe he should stay out of shit that doesn't concern him, but maybe he feels a little sorry for whoever it is- niall?- that's asking for help.
and maybe he's going to be a good person for once.
he follows the voice, and it leads him to another black maserati, a few cars away from his own.
"what are you doing?" he asks, his voice casual, like he's talking about the weather.
he shoves one hand into his right pocket, taking in the scene in front of him. a man- boy really, because he's so small-shaped- on his knees, in front of a curly-haired figure, and zayn can't see his face because it's either too dark or he's too drunk.
the blond boy's eyes are red, like he's been crying, but zayn can't see the tears on his face. his mouth wraps around the tip of the curly head's cock, and his eyes flicker shut.
"go away," curly- harry- turns to glare at zayn.
"what are you doing to him?"
"he's my boyfriend," curly states.
niall whimpers.
"let him go," zayn says, and he hates that his voice is slurred, hates it because it makes him sound only half as serious as he actually is.
"mind your own fucking business," curly snarls, then thrusts his dick further inside niall's mouth.
zayn takes a few steps forward. maybe stumbles. hates himself for drinking so much. "i told you to let him go."
curly ignores him, keeps shoving himself down niall's throat.
zayn walks forward again, and steps in the middle of the two of them. he uses a hand to push niall off to the side, and the boy stumbles backward and stays there.
zayn faces harry. "you got a lot of nerve, kid."
harry tips his head back, then leans forward again, swaying slightly on his feet. he's tall and sinewy, with green eyes and attractive hands, but something's off. zayn can smell the reek of alcohol, the same one that he's maybe (probably) giving off himself. "niall," harry croaks. "niall."
niall doesn't respond.
"i love you," harry whispers. "i-"
he doesn't get to finish his sentence. zayn knocks him in the stomach, making him bend forward, gasping for air.
"no!" niall shouts. "don't hit him!"
zayn hits harry anyway, sends a punch that leaves the curly haired boy sprawling onto his knees, coughing and choking.
niall immediately comes forward, takes harry's hand, clutches it tightly, all the while saying, "harry, harry, harry."
"let's go," zayn takes niall by the arm, carries him up. has some trouble because he's dazed and niall's struggling. "we need to go before he gets up."
niall bites his lip, looks at harry's body on the ground, and whispers, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," as he gets up and follows zayn, his feet moving in all the wrong directions like he's not sure where to go exactly.
they find zayn's black car, and niall gets into the driver's seat because zayn's (maybe) drunk and he doesn't want to crash the car or end up in jail or both.
"what's your name?" niall asks, once they're on the road and he's started to collect himself together.
zayn has to think for a moment, find his own name behind the fuzz of beer. "zayn."
niall nods. keeps his eyes on the street. "thank you, zayn."
"it's nothing," zayn shrugs. looks out of his window. knows that he probably will remember nothing of tonight when he wakes up tomorrow. "where are you headed?"
"there's a motel nearby, it's cosy, we can crash there. for the night," niall adds.
zayn nods. doesn't bother questioning because he's more than a little wasted, isn't he? "are you alright?"
niall sighs. "little bit bruised, but yeah, i'm alright."
"who was he?" zayn asks.
"harry?" niall bites his lip. "he's my ex-boyfriend."
zayn tugs on his hoodie sleeves. surveys his broken knuckles. wishes he has some painkillers. doesn't say anything else for the rest of the trip.
niall stops the car outside a small motel, and zayn stumbles along while niall books the room, and follows him like a dog into their unit.
he crashes onto the bed and niall goes into the toilet, and for the rest of the night zayn tries to ignore the sound of crying from the bathroom.
--
(14:49pm)
harry throws the first punch, and it hits zayn hard on the jaw, blossoms into a dark bruise. his mind goes blank and he stumbles backward, and he hears harry's mocking laugh, hears the mixed reaction from the crowd, and he feels drunk again, feels his head spinning and his mind trying to think of something, anything, other than the pain.
"you're too fucking easy," harry sneers, and he swings his arm back for another punch.
zayn dodges it, but barely. harry's fist whistles past his ear, and zayn thinks concentrate, don't lose focus, and he sends a blow to harry's gut, making him crumple.
harry tries to throw a punch back, but he's disorientated with pain and he misses.
zayn flexes his fingers inside the glove. aims for harry's stomach again, feeling adrenalin zip through his fingers, sparking up inside the joints and stiffening the muscles.
but. harry catches him first, gives him a blow that throws him backwards against the ropes of the ring, and zayn groans as the roughness of the rope presses deep into his skin, leaving a bruise from all the friction.
"zayn, no!"
zayn starts to turn his head slowly to the sound of niall's voice, it's a natural reaction that he can't help anymore, but regrets it immediately because harry pounds him on the face, making him spit out blood.
harry laughs again, clapping his fists together and bouncing up and down, his lips smirking like the filthy fucking son of a bitch he is.
zayn leans back against the ropes for support, trying to clear his vision, but he fails to dodge harry's fourth punch.
his mind flickers, about to black out, just as a shrill bell goes off, announcing the end of round one.
--
the first time zayn kisses niall is when niall comes to support zayn at a match and zayn wins.
as he's walking out of the ring, niall throws his arms around zayn and crushes his mouth on his, and it's so unexpected but zayn feels like he's been waiting for this, waiting to fall in love with someone like niall all his life and it's so fucking cliche, right out of a sappy teen ballad, but he doesn't even care, he likes it when niall kisses him and he likes it when he's brave enough to kiss back.
later they fuck in the dim bathroom behind the rings, with zayn's fingers frigging in and out of niall, his right hand stroking him so hard that niall whines and whimpers, buries his face in zayn's collarbones. niall's hands claw at zayn's skin, bending over the cold marble lip of the bathtub when zayn holds him down by his wrists and rides him, falling into a comfortable pattern, until he comes with an embarrassing loud gasp, as niall flushes under him.
zayn wants to fuck him rough and hard, but he doesn't because he's always been gentle on niall, he's always been careful not to hurt him. he's seen niall hurt one too many times to be able to do it himself, anyway.
--
(14:51pm)
cold water is splashed on his face, and zayn blinks it out of his eyelashes, feels his manager massage his shoulders, restarting the flow of blood along the bruised and numb skin.
"zayn," niall whispers, and zayn realizes that he's stepped out of the crowd. "are you alright?"
zayn nods, finds niall's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "never been better, love."
niall manages a stiff laugh, cups a hand under zayn's chin and presses his lips clumsily along the stubble on zayn's cheek. "fight hard for me, zayn," his voice is soft, and it's not an order, not a demand, not even a plea. it's nothing but trusting, and zayn feels a surge of affection, like he's a teenager falling in love for the first time.
"anything," zayn swears, and he means it with everything he's got, everything that makes him the man he is, everything that he would give up for niall. "anything for you."
--
"jesus fucking christ," niall gasps, exasperated. "just do it."
zayn's fingers pause over niall's entrance, wet and gentle, rubbing circles over him, making niall's hips buck with a low damp groan.
they're at the couch, with niall's entire body bending face-down over zayn's lap, his ass perking up and making it more than a little difficult for zayn to take it slow. "you're not being very nice, are you?"
niall turns his head around, and there's a dirty shit-eating grin on his face. "when have i ever been?" he smirks, and zayn shoves a finger into him, making his face crumple. "god- fuck. it's- you're the one who's being mean, zayn, you keep teasing me and you'll never- fuck," he gasps again as zayn slides in a second finger, jerking it in and out a few times, feeling niall's puckered skin loosen at his touch. "you're so-" he doesn't finish the sentence because zayn's feeling cruel enough to slip in a third finger.
niall's body shudders on his lap, and zayn's free hand curves over the skin on the back of niall's neck, cool with perspiration and hot with arousal. with three fingers still frigging niall, zayn slides the hand down the front niall's arched chest, drumming along the bumps of niall's nipples and stomach. niall's body shivers at the touch, and he crashes his forehead against zayn's knee, moaning.
zayn's hand finds the throbbing hardness of niall's cock, hot and buzzing, and his fingers curl over the length and niall has barely a second to figure out what's going before zayn starts stroking him, falling into the same rhythm as his fingers inside niall's hole.
niall begins pushing back, rocking his hips up and down gently. fucking himself on zayn's fingers and being stroked faster than he has time to process his thoughts, it all becomes a little overwhelming and he lets out a helplessly tortured moan. zayn smiles, it's exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for.
"fuck, zayn," niall gasps, pushing himself harder so that zayn is three knuckles deep inside him. his breaths comes out in shallow rapid exhales. "i'm going to- shit."
niall comes with a wet sob, and it's too much of an effort for him to lift himself up, so he collapses on zayn's lap, lets himself be lifted up and kissed slowly.
zayn cradles niall against his body, feels the heat emanating from him like he's actually smoking, actually on fire. niall's flushed all the way down to his drained cock, and zayn can't help but feel extremely accomplished, and it's just.
its like niall's pleasure is a prize, one that he never gets tired of winning.
--
(14.57pm)
harry's all geared up, and just as the second round starts, he sends a filthily suggestive wink over to niall, one hand brushing over the bulge under his shorts, and zayn feels the blood rush into his head, anger pulsing inside his veins, and god, god, he fucking hates harry so much.
"what's the matter, romeo?" harry turns to sneer at the expression on zayn's face. "don't like the fact that i could fuck your little boyfriend so hard that he forgets all about you?"
zayn sends a punch straight onto harry's stupid dirty mouth, feels the rage coursing through his body at the thought of niall with harry, and sure, he's always been very possessive over the blond boy, but that's only because- because he's so afraid to lose him. it's hard to admit, but zayn probably wouldn't know how to live without niall, that's how badly he depends on him, that's how fucking madly in love he is.
"i bet," harry's voice is breathless, but still annoyingly cocky as he wipes his mouth, "i bet niall thinks about me when he's with you, don't you agree?"
zayn's mind is reeling, he's always had an issue controlling his temper, and right now harry's fucking words are distracting him so badly. harry takes the opportunity to plunge his fist inside zayn's stomach, and zayn sprawls forward, coughing up blood.
"zayn!" niall shouts from the crowd, and zayn feels anger pricking the back of his eyes.
"you just wait and see," harry smirks, as he pounds a few hard blows into zayn's gut. "after this match is over i'll tie you to the chair and make you watch while i fuck the living daylights out of him."
"you're not going to-" zayn pauses, seething, as he retaliates with an crushing punch to harry's spine, and he hears a satisfying crack as the crowd goes wild. "you're not going to lay a single fucking finger on niall, do you understand?"
harry's teeth are bloody as he grins like a masochist, hurling his steel knuckles into zayn's chest, leaving burning bruises. "who's going to stop me, tough guy? you?"
"you believe it," zayn hisses, and his fist crashes against the side of harry's head, making his neck snap to the side.
harry lets out another maddening laugh, like he's delirious, and he lands on his ass as zayn pounds him again. "you can-" his words are punctuated with gasps of pain as zayn keeps punching him, "you can talk- all you want- but- nothing, ugh, is going to change- niall likes my cock more than he ever liked yours-"
zayn sends a deserving punch straight onto harry's groin, and harry howls, throwing a defensive fist at zayn's cheek and hitting him hard.
zayn blinks away the pain, glares at the boy in front of him, and thinks that he's never hated anyone as much as he hates harry fucking styles.
--
"how about that one?" niall asks, turning onto his side and pointing to the sky.
zayn smiles, considering it briefly. "no," he says. "it's not bright enough."
"it's the brightest star in the whole sky," niall insists.
"well," zayn says. "you deserve something even brighter than that one."
"like what?" niall wonders. "like a shooting star?"
zayn nods. "maybe. i bet if we're lucky we'll catch one tonight, and we can name it our star."
"we're probably the first people to name a shooting star after themselves," niall muses. "bit conceited, don't you think? but i like it."
"i like it too," zayn leans in and he's done this so many times that his lips catch niall's by natural familiarity. "in the same way that i like you."
niall blushes, the lovely pink that colors in his skin, pale under the moonlight. he leans in closer and rests his head on zayn's chest, and zayn wonders if niall can hear the way his heart is rushing out of time, and he feels so sappy and young, but it's a nice feeling.
"zayn?"
"yeah?" he murmurs.
"do you think," niall's fingers trace invisible swirls over zayn's hips, "do you think this is love?"
"but what is love, niall?" zayn asks, as he finds niall's hand and interlaces their fingers. "some bullshit concept that people came up with years ago and never really explained properly?"
"no," niall says. "i think- i think love is real, zayn. love is anything that's true and real and right."
"which twilight book did you get that one from?" zayn teases.
niall smiles, but his eyes are serious. "don't you agree, zayn?"
zayn thinks about it. "yes."
"so are we in love?" niall asks. "is what we have real and true and right, and every bit as sappy as it is in the books?"
"maybe," zayn muses slowly. "just maybe it is."
"so. what you're saying here is, maybe," niall says, "maybe i love you?"
"yes," zayn leaves a kiss onto niall's cheek, like a stamp. "and just maybe, i love you too."
--
(15.06pm)
"you know," harry says, his voice arrogant and infuriating. "niall used to wake me up in the middle of the night, begging for my dick."
zayn goes still.
"i bet he never told you that," harry lilts his voice. "i bet he never wanted you the way he wanted me."
zayn shoves harry against the ropes, punches his shoulders until they bruise purple. "shut up."
"or what?" harry chokes out a gasp, but he's still grinning, blood running down the side of his mouth.
"or you'll crawl out of here with four broken limbs," zayn snarls. "and a paralyzed spinal cord."
harry only laughs again, and he almost sounds high. "you talk alot for a lovestruck bastard, you know that?"
zayn pulls back, panting for breath.
"and that's the problem with you," harry's eyes burn dangerously, as the playful teasing leaves his tone, taken over by murderous rage. "you're all talk and no show, and you wanna know why?"
he's messing with you, zayn tells himself. don't listen.
"because you may be all muscled up and good at fighting," harry hisses, his eyes flashing and bloodthirsty. "but you have the weakest spot."
zayn shakes his head, clears his thoughts as he swings his arm back to hit harry and shut him up.
harry stops his fist, as he glares hard at zayn. "listen to me."
zayn yanks his arm away, prepares for another punch.
harry catches him again, twisting zayn's wrist until there's a sickening crack and unbearable agony shooting up his entire arm. "you wanna know where your weakest spot is?" harry hisses, and his free hand crushes hard into zayn's chest, causing a paralyzing pain to take over zayn's body. "right here, in your fucking heart."
zayn coughs out more sticky blood, stumbling backward. his brain is fuzzed around the edges from pain. his knees are weak, and it's hard to ignore the broken wrist, the unbelievable excruciating agony searing up from it. "i'm not weak," he manages softly.
"you are," harry says, and his eyes are cold as his tongue flicks out to lick the blood on his own mouth. "don't tell me that you wouldn't do anything at all for niall, don't tell me you wouldn't die for him."
"that's not weak," zayn uses his uninjured hand to chip Harry's front teeth.
harry laughs maniacally, laughs despite the pain and the blood dripping from his mouth. "one day, you'll see."
"he left you, harry," zayn crashes and falls backward against the ropes, trying to think coherently past the blinding pain. "he left you and you're nothing but fucking bitter."
harry blinks.
"and maybe he wanted your dick," zayn continues. "but you were nothing more to him, harry. nothing more than a hot fuck whenever he felt like it, and he never loved you."
harry freezes.
zayn takes the chance to slam his unbroken fist straight into harry's face, sending him flying back and hitting the pole of the ring with a crash.
zayn moves toward him, cracking his knuckles. "you wanna know why he never loved you?"
harry barely has time to shake his head. he doesn't even try to retaliate, just sits there. listening.
"because you-" zayn jabs harry on the chest. "you are not capable of loving anything. how did you ever expect anything to love you back?"
harry leans his head back. his eyes are watery green, glassy with tears. he doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't do anything at all as zayn throws his arm all the way back, stiffens the muscles in his fist, and sends the final punch into his head.
harry crumples over onto the ground, unconscious. zayn waits for the silent count of five, breathing hard.
a shrill bell goes off.
"KNOCKOUT!"
--
"did he touch you this way?" zayn asks softly, as his fingers curl around the back of niall's knees, tapping the soft tender skin. "did he touch you like he loved you?"
"no," niall leans into zayn's neck, lets out a soft contented sigh. "nobody has ever touched me the way that you do."
--
(16.51pm)
zayn steps out of the hospital ward, with his arm in a cast and stitches all over his body. it hurts to breathe, hurts to do anything.
niall gets up from his seat in the waiting room, doesn't say a word to him as he moves into zayn's arms, burying his face in zayn's neck.
zayn lays his chin on niall's shoulder, closes his eyes and holds niall against him gently. "i love you."
"you too," niall mumbles.
zayn looks up at the sound of footsteps. harry's stepped into the hallway, a bandage wrapped around his head, soaked red from his concussion.
zayn lifts his head, gives him a small nod of acknowledgement.
harry ignores him, walks to niall instead. "you're lucky," he says. "you found a guy who'll do anything for you."
niall looks at zayn, before hesitantly stepping out his embrace, turning round to put his arms gently around harry. "does it hurt?"
"i've had worse," harry shrugs.
niall nods.
"i hope i'll- i mean-" harry pauses and takes a deep breath. "i'm sorry. for bothering you all the time."
niall shakes his head. "i'm not mad."
"i never should have hit you."
"no, you never should have," niall says. "but we're past that, harry. let it go."
harry sighs. pulls back from his hug with niall. "you'll always be special to me, you know."
niall nods again. "and you to me."
harry turns to zayn. "i'm glad niall has you."
zayn opens his mouth. closes it again. he's not sure how to respond.
harry touches zayn's broken wrist with his fingertips. "sorry about that."
zayn glances at the bandage swathed around harry's forehead. "i've never had a concussion before."
"and you better hope not to get one either," harry says. "hurts like a bitch."
"i'm sorry."
"eh." harry shrugs. "it's cool."
zayn bites his lip.
"take care of niall, for me," harry says. "what you said in the ring- it's not true. i did love niall. i loved him to pieces. and i was stupid enough to lose him."
niall sighs.
"so you better take good care of this one for me," harry says.
zayn nods. "you know i will."
harry pauses. holds a hand out hesitantly. "friends?"
zayn looks at harry's hand, offered out in peace. "yes," he says, reaching to harry's hand and shaking it with his own. "friends."
harry nods. touches niall's cheek gently with his fingers. "take care. give me a call if you need me."
niall smiles. "i will."
harry doesn't smile back. he pulls his hand away from niall, gives zayn a tiny nod, and turns around. zayn watches him walk out of the hospital hallway, and he's vaguely aware of niall pressing up gently against him.
"i don't think he'll bother you after today," zayn says softly.
"me neither," niall nods. he turns to zayn, brushes the jawline with his lips. "zayn?"
"yeah?" zayn looks down at niall's wide blue eyes.
"are you happy?"
zayn stops. thinks about it. thinks about the question. thinks about his answer the last time niall asked him; i'm tired. thinks about everything he's been through with niall. thinks of winning the match today. thinks of his broken wrist, thinks of his pride. thinks of niall's body, a soft shape beside him. and he thinks of his almost-friendship with harry.
"yeah," he says finally, turning his head down to look at niall as a smile tugs at his lips. "yeah, i think i am."
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