(no subject)
Fandom: One Direction
Title: We Are Nowhere and It's Now
Characters/Relationship: Liam/Zayn + Danielle (in later parts; prevalence to still be determined)
Synopsis: Zayn has a problem. Mostly, it's the fact that all he wants to do lately is kiss Liam.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: This is for aimmyarrowshigh who likes fluff in all forms. I hope this is fluffy enough for you!
Last Updated: 02/23/12 @ 05:28 p.m.
The way Liam is eating his cupcake is criminal. Zayn wonders with a slight tilt of his head why Liam isn't more popular with the ladies.
The five of them are all sitting around. Someone brought cupcakes, although no one in the band is really much of a sweet-tooth. Liam must be hungry or bored or both because he's on his second cake. They're all in makeup and wardrobe, all looking very dapper-especially Liam, whose clothes seem to be a size too small. Zayn knows why, too. It's because Liam is fit in a way none of the others are. Liam's got sinew beneath all that designer swag. He works out. He was going to be in the bloody Olympics for crying out loud, and that's something Zayn can't quite wrap his head around. He won't complain, though. If the girls in wardrobe want to dress Liam like an American gangster from the 20's, who is Zayn to ruin their dreams?
When he's done, Liam throws the paper down on the table and pats his belly like some contented cartoon feline who just ate the Tweety bird. Zayn can't say that the shift behind his belly button is something entirely surprising, or even new. He will say that every time he feels his guts churn it makes it harder for him to resist doing things he wants to do. When they're called around to start shooting, Zayn has to distance himself from Liam.
Quiet, simple little Liam: who is showing off his trousers on camera; who is jumping up on the sofa like he's surfing it; who is straining against his waistcoat. And isn't it kind of Zayn's duty to save a friend if he can't even breathe?
The turning point comes after dark. Everyone's cold, and Zayn is watching Liam talk to the camera about Harry's little power nap on the sofa. His voice, his stance, Zayn cannot stand it. It's not unprecedented that he do such things, and that's all the flimsy excuse he needs. He propels himself forward mid-sentence, grabs Liam's face, and plants a sloppy kiss square on the boy's lips.
Liam tenses up, but Zayn finds comfort in knowing that his eyes close immediately. You don't close your eyes for just any kiss between mates. Eye-closing is an establishment of trust with your kissing partner. It says that you promise not to stare too closely at their face and judge their pores or their kinky eyebrows. His eyes close briefly too. Then he comes to his senses and withdraws.
Behind him he hears, “I love it.”
When he turns back around, Liam is laying on the ground smiling. His eyes are on Zayn-dreamy eyes big as saucers. His smile curls up at the edges, and Zayn can't be sure but that face has the word smitten tattooed across the forehead.
Which causes a shift in parts due south of his belly button.
***They have the day free. In Italy.
Liam comes out of the bathroom wearing cargo shorts and white sneakers and no shirt. No. Fucking. Shirt.
Zayn suddenly goes grumpy and storms off to find some water. He watches the other boys storm into the backyard. Louis and Harry settle in to watch Liam and Niall kick the football around the yard.
From his place at the window, he can see the beads of sweat falling down the small of Liam's back. He wants so badly to reach out and touch Liam. Really touch him. He realizes he's hard at the same time someone bursts through the side door. Zayn is gone faster than he can comprehend. He runs up the stairs to his room and slams it shut. He's sharing with Niall this trip, but if it's Niall wanting in, he can fucking wait.
Zayn knows his bedroom overlooks the backyard. He spent all night leaning out the window smoking weed with Niall. He can't recall what his conversations with Niall are about, but they range from deep to spacey-case. Sometimes he and Niall can just sit and stare and not say a word, and it's hardly ever uncomfortable with him. They're best mates. But right now, as he slides his hand into his pants, the last person on his mind is Niall.
It's sweet, simple Liam. Whose back muscles are taut as he squats in front of the makeshift goal. Whose hair is plastered to his face with sweat. Zayn wants to ride this high all afternoon, but he comes too quickly and is twice as grumpy as before. He finds one of Niall's socks and uses it to clean up his hand a bit. He'll want a shower and a proper pair of trousers. He pokes around his suitcase until he finds some sweats and his favorite hoodie. He's not trying to impress anyone tonight. He'd rather mope about and watch some proper Italian films because that's the sort of mood he's in.
He showers and preens for a good hour before exiting. Niall rushes in almost as soon as he's opened the door.
"Fuck me, Zayn, what were you doing in here?" asks Niall.
"Not all of us were blessed with adorable freckles, Niall. Some of us have to work for our looks."
Niall slaps him on the behind. Zayn does a little dance and winds up horsing around for a few minutes with Niall. It feels organic, what the two of them have. Zayn manages to hoist Niall over his shoulder and dump him into the bath. He's about to turn on the water, but Niall screeches like a banshee sent from hell.
"Don't you dare! I've got my mobile in my pocket, Zayn."
Zayn smirks. "Yeah, all right, but I owe you a real good one."
"Who is Zayn giving it to?" asks Harry from the doorway.
"Zayn hasn't got anybody," says Niall and hooks a leg around Zayn's waist. Zayn lands on top of Niall in the tub, straddling his chest. Then Harry's in there as well.
"Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub," says Louis from the doorway. "Just so long as no one's touching my boyfriend's candlestick."
"No one's interested in your boyfriend's candlestick," says Niall.
Louis helps Harry out of the tub, and Zayn is surprised when another pair of arms grabs him under the armpits. He turns around, expecting Harry or Louis, but it's Liam.
"All right, Zayn?" he asks.
"Yeah," says Zayn in reply. He stares a moment too long at Liam's lower lip. Someone clears his throat, and Zayn snaps out of whatever trance held him in place.
"I'm going to go find a corner market and get something to drink," says Zayn. He pushes past the others and searches for his shoes among the mess of their little rented house. When he finds them, he sits on the stairs to lace them up. The others are watching him without saying a word. Even Niall, half soaked with residual tub water, is giving him a funny look.
"Zayn?" asks Harry. He's the only one brave enough to speak up.
"What, Harry?" says Zayn. He's not angry. Just so tired.
"What's up with you?"
"I'm just exhausted. I need an energy drink or something. I'll be back in a bit."
He grabs his wallet and walks out on them before anyone can get too motherly. It's not until he's halfway to the store that he realizes he has a tail. It starts as quiet shuffling now and again, but then it's more than just that. The footsteps are following him across the narrow streets, through alleyways, and past crowded late-night hotspots where lovers coil up and drink espresso under the stars.
It's been a fair few years since he's been in an actual fight. It's not like anyone is going to recognize him in Milan after dark, but someone is following him for sure. Just as he crosses a little alleyway, he spins on his heels and prepares himself to attack.
But it's Liam, who looks startled and sort of runs into him before he can correct his path. Zayn steadies him by the shoulders.
"I nearly had a heart attack here, Liam. Why are you following me?"
"We're kind of worried about you, mate," says Liam. "You're acting odd. Harry thinks it could be cocaine."
"Good to know my mates think so highly of me," says Zayn. He turns back around. It would seem childish if Liam were to see him roll his eyes, but turning his back on one of his best friends and the object of his masturbatory dreams seems pretty grown-up to Zayn. Liam grabs his hand and stops him.
"Come on, Zayn. What's the matter with you?"
"Just forget about it, Liam."
"No. We're worried. You've been acting funny this whole trip. Come on, spill it."
Zayn lifts his hood and leans back against the brick facade of an old bakery. The patio is occupied by a few little tables and chairs, but either no one eats bread from this shop or it's closed. Liam is watching him closely. It's almost as if he thinks Zayn is going to run. Liam steps closer so a couple can pass on the sidewalk behind him. When he turns back to Zayn, he's smiling still.
"So, what's wro--"
Zayn reaches across the small gap and pulls Liam to him. Liam falls into him, and their hips align. Liam groans a bit and shifts, but that turns out to be a bit awkward for the both of them. Zayn tries to think of mud or Louis--things that don't turn him on at all. He remembers what he wanted to do, but he's quickly losing nerve. And Liam's hipbone is digging into his in just such a way that Zayn is swelling with a crumbly feeling that leaves his face warm.
"Why didn't you just say so?" asks Liam.
"What?"
Liam smiles expectantly and moves his hips a little bit more. When Zayn just keeps looking at him, Liam rolls his eyes. "Will you kiss me already or what?"
"Here?"
"It's not like we have the paparazzi following us around. Just, oh forget it...."
Liam starts to pivot, but Zayn catches his leg right under the knee and holds it against his side. The position is awkward but not uncomfortable. Zayn leans in to kiss Liam, but he catches teeth the first try. Liam laughs.
"I know you can do better than that. I've seen you snog half a dozen girls at parties," says Liam.
The next time he tries it, Zayn catches Liam on the corner of his mouth. He goes to correct his mistake, but Liam's mouth is already open. Zayn figures this is going to be one of those kisses you only see in foreign movies. Things might not be pretty, but passion compensates for a fairly large gap in talent. Zayn not only grips the back of Liam's head, but he scratches his stubby nails up his scalp. In return, Liam trembles all over and drops his head back. Zayn wonders if Liam wants this as badly as he does. The expectant mouth agape look seems to answer his question.
Zayn leans forward and licks a clean line from Liam's Adam's apple to just behind the ear. That seems like a fair spot to work with. Liam just sticks his hands in the pocket of Zayn's sweatshirt and stays very still. Zayn feels like he's absorbing electricity from the houses nearby. Every cell in his body thrums. When he scrapes his teeth down Liam's neck, Liam reacts by grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging.
"Fuck, Zayn," he says. And this boy curses about as often as the Pope, so this is how Zayn knows Liam isn't just being polite.
"We can't really do anymore out here without attracting attention," says Zayn.
"I don't want to do anything more. I just want to kiss," says Liam.
"How long have you wanted to kiss?"
"I don't know. A long time, I reckon," says Liam. His breathing is labored, and Zayn really doesn't know what to do with himself. He lets go of Liam's leg.
"We really should get back to the house."
"You owe me an hour of snogging," says Liam. "Not a minute less."
"An hour? Steep rate."
"I'm worth it," says Liam. Zayn knows he's moving his hips on purpose, but he can't prove it because Liam is showing nothing on his face that indicates a slyness of character.
"Fine. I owe you an hour. At least," says Zayn.
"At least. It's the bare minimum to assess where this is going to go," says Liam.
Zayn quirks a brow. "Assess? Is this a business venture?"
"No, it's a testing the waters venture. We have the band to think about on top of everything. If the dynamic shifts, we have to kind of pull back and reevaluate--" says Liam, but he's abruptly cut off by Zayn turning his head. Zayn licks the whorl of Liam's ear, and then presses a kiss to it.
"Shut up about business ventures and evaluations. I'll fucking kiss you, if you please," says Zayn in a throaty whisper and thrusts his hip forward so as to separate himself from Liam. Liam looks a bit stunned but leads the way toward the corner store he saw on their ride in.
"Oh, and next time you wank off in the window, you might want to close the shades."
To which, Zayn has no reply.
***
Liam has a large bag filled with goodies for the boys, and Zayn hands Niall his Italian junk food. Niall takes it without tearing his eyes from the television. An old version of Romeo and Juliet is playing on the telly. Harry is passed out beside Louis. That doesn't stop Zayn from shouting, "Hey, turn it up. This is my favorite part."
He slumps down between Harry and Niall. Liam comes back to the kitchen with a glass of wine looking a bit hurt, actually. Zayn ignores it. He can nurse his wounded ego--for an our, at least--when everyone else has gone to bed. For now, Liam is going to have to settle in beside Louis and watch as Tybalt and Romeo beat the ever-loving crap out of each other.
Zayn knows why he likes this part. Vulnerable Romeo sneaks into Juliet's window so they may consummate their marriage. He's bloody and bruised, and poor Juliet is forced for the first time to pick her lover over family. That's Zayn's analysis, at least. She comforts Romeo rather than reject him. She cleans up his wound and then loses her virginity on her wedding night. Although, Zayn's thought for a long time that Romeo wasn't exactly pure at this point. Fickle and passionate as he was, Zayn always figured Romeo probably defied some young maiden far before he ever got his hands on Juliet.
Zayn doesn't even notice that he's watching the play in Italian. He knows what's happening. It's written on everyone's faces, and he has this play memorized anyway. Niall falls asleep second, then Louis. Liam clears his throat over Stylinson's head and nods toward the kitchen.
Zayn does not want to snog in the kitchen, no matter how rustic it appears. He wants someplace quiet and secluded. Out in the open with their mates all passed out on the couch seems to Zayn like it'd be more nerve-wracking than a turn-on. They have their whole kissing careers to consider the thrill of being caught. Right now, though, Zayn doesn't want to be caught. He wants to kiss without fear, without any pretenses. Zayn grabs his tea off the table and nods up the stairs.
He arrives at Liam's room and takes a swig from his tea. Liam does it on purpose, doesn't he? He is lifting his shirt off his head halfway up the stairs and sticks it in his back pocket. Zayn grabs him by the waist and dips down to kiss him above his clavicle.
"Time doesn't start until we move into the bedroom," says Liam quietly. Zayn rises to the challenge and sets his tea against the wall. On his way back up, he kisses Liam on each rib. The way Liam's stomach pulls in is apt to drive him batty.
"Get in. You're tensing up just standing here, and according to the rules, there won't be any relieving our tension with each other."
Liam nods and moves into the room. He sits down on the bed facing Zayn. Zayn feels a bit put-on when he removes his sweater. Liam's face dissolves into a smile because Liam never smiles with just his lips. His whole body opens up, and Zayn won't resist the urge to explore this completely open body.
He locks the door. Two rules have already been established. One, kissing is it. He can tell Liam is not ready for anything more, no matter how phenomenal a blowjob may feel. To be honest, it suits Zayn because he's definitely not ready to try giving blowjobs. Two, no one can find out. They're definitely not ready for full public displays of affection. Liam seems nervous now, even when it's only the two of them. Even after they made out against an Italian bakery.
"Turn around," says Zayn.
Liam's eyes go a bit funny--wide and panicked. He even shakes his head involuntarily before going still.
"I'm not going to plunder your manhood," says Zayn. "Just turn around, you git."
They'll need to establish trust. Zayn can't have Liam thinking he's some sex pervert from south Yorkshire. He runs the tip of his finger up Liam's back right alongside the spine. Liam breaks out in gooesbumps and stops breathing.
"Come on. Lean forward a bit," says Zayn.
Again, he's met with hesitancy. Liam does as he's told and lifts up his knees a little so he can lean forward onto them. Zayn rolls his eyes and gives a little laugh.
"I'm not going to steal your innocence, Payne. But kissing isn't going to be fun for either of us if you're all tense."
"This is just ... very, very new to me."
"What, and I make out with random guys all the time?" says Zayn a bit too harshly. He gnashes his teeth against Liam's shoulder without making any contact. Biting Liam isn't the way to open him up. He needs something sweet and delicate.
Zayn runs his whole hand up Liam's spine this time. He goes until his hand is buried in Liam's hair. He's applying slight pressure so Liam knows to bow his head forward. Then Zayn is kissing the back of his neck. Liam's breathing is slightly labored, but their chests rise and fall together as Zayn presses closer. Liam eventually relaxes though. Zayn swears he's purring like a kitten.
"That feels really nice," says Liam.
Zayn is stroking his sides with just the tips of his fingers.
"Yeah?"
"Mm," is all Liam manages in return.
He isn't sure how this turns into a back massage, but he's kneading Liam's taut muscles between his fingers. Liam unwinds after thirty minutes of Zayn kissing and touching him. Zayn thinks he might have fallen asleep, but Liam leans back into him and kisses Zayn on the underside of his chin.
"Sweet little Liam," says Zayn and kisses the bridge of his nose.
"Tired little Liam," says Liam in return.
"You're more of a cat than Hazza," says Zayn. "Tickle you a little bit, and you're too exhausted to continue on."
"I'm sorry. You didn't even get any kisses," says Liam.
"I'll survive. Come on. Get some sleep. We have our whole lives ahead of us to explore this thing. We don't want to get burnt out too early on in the tryst."
"You mean it?" asks Liam.
"Yeah. Come on, get under the covers. I'll tuck you in."
Liam rolls over and kisses Zayn's knee. Zayn gets up and let's Liam get comfortable. Once he is, Zayn lays down beside him in the bed. They're separated by all that fabric, but Zayn can still feel the heat radiating between them. He grins and kisses Liam very softly on the lips.
"Night, Liam," he says.
"Night, Zayn."
Zayn makes a mental note not to relax Liam too much before they start snogging or else nothing is ever going to get done between the two. Not that he minds. He really does love Liam and would wait eons for a kiss if he had to. Not because he's some godly saint, but because Liam is definitely worth it. Liam is this little sparkling point on the horizon in a way that not even Harry is. Zayn kisses him once more and then rolls off the bed to avoid waking him up.
He sneaks out of the room, closes the door quietly behind him, and doesn't remember his sweater until he's downstairs, shirtless. Harry is eating a bit of pizza with his eyes half-closed.
"Have a good talk with Liam, then?" asks Harry.
"Yeah, we sorted some stuff out."
Even half-asleep, Harry's eyebrows go up as though he's insinuating something. Zayn takes the pizza away from him.
"Go to sleep, Hazza," says Zayn. "It's really late. We have a big day tomorrow."
"We have tomorrow off, Zayn," says Harry. "Louis, Niall, and I are going to try and see the Vatican or something."
"That sounds fun," says Zayn mildly.
Harry smirks. "Yeah, it should be. You think you and Liam can keep yourselves occupied now that you've sorted everything?"
"I'm sure we can think of something."
It doesn't even occur to Zayn as he's settling into bed that Vatican City is five hours from Milan. There's no way in hell anyone is going to drive five hours and be able to see the Vatican and then drive five hours back home. The thought does occur to him that Verona isn't that far away. Can't be more than a couple hours. Zayn settles into sleep because tomorrow he's going to get to see where Romeo and Juliet lived their short lives.
But first, he'll have to ask Liam to be his date.***
The house is quiet when he wakes up. He rolls out of bed, makes a trip to the bathroom, and winds up in the kitchen. It doesn't occur to him until he's halfway through a bit of coffee that the house is suspiciously quiet. He remembers Harry saying something about Vatican City, but it's more likely the boys will be distracted by something shiny just out of reach. Louis will spend all day trying to please Harry, and Niall will spend all day pretending he doesn't notice Harry gripping Louis's inner thigh when they take a turn down a rough bit of country road.
Liam comes through the front door drenched in sweat. He's got his trainers on and some matching track suit. Zayn wonders if Liam sets aside all his outfits for a month in advance. There's never been a time where he hasn't looked impeccable, and Zayn can't say that of all the boys.
"Morning," says Liam too loudly. He pulls the ear buds out of his ears and shakes his hair out. "Sorry. Morning. I've just been for a run."
"It's okay. I think the others have gone."
"Yeah, they went ... what did Harry say? I can't remember. I hadn't properly woken up, and Harry always says a lot in one go."
"Yeah. Do we have a car today?"
"I think so. Simon called yesterday, I guess, and talked to Harry for a bit. We woke up and had cars ready for us. I guess he probably mentioned we wanted to see some sights before tomorrow."
"Did you want to maybe go somewhere with me? It doesn't have to be, you know, anything like the Vatican."
"Where were you thinking?"
"Well, I mean, Verona is only a two hour drive. I've always wanted to see it. I just never thought I'd ever be close enough to try."
"That sounds really fun, actually. Let me shower."
"All right. I'll go grab us some snacks for the road then."
"Sounds good. A date, then," says Liam.
Zayn puffs up at the word, and Liam smiles. Zayn passes him when he goes back upstairs and kisses him hard on the mouth.
"Give you something to think about in the shower," says Zayn. Liam rolls his eyes but appears open to the suggestion.
"Such a romantic," he says, but the smile never leaves his face.
Zayn pops to the market in the car and grabs the healthiest things he can manage. Bruschetta seems like a decent option since it's basically just salsa on top of bread. Zayn picks out some crisps for himself and some powdered donuts as well. He's not sure what else might appeal to Liam. There's really nothing healthy to order at a corner market. He ends up grabbing quite a bit of food, and between this mess, he hopes there's enough for Liam to eat.
Back at the house, Liam is waiting on the steps. He's got his hat on backwards. This is usually what he does until his hair is dry.
"Get in, lover boy. The day is about to begin."
Liam climbs into the car. "Are you licensed to drive this vehicle?"
"Probably not."
"What did you get us to eat?"
"Oh, hell. It's in the boot. Did you want anything now?"
"Yeah, pull over a minute. I need to eat."
"Are you okay?" asks Zayn.
"Peachy keen. I just need to eat. Running, you know?"
Zayn doesn't know. He never had any place for athletics. His life before this gig was a bit of a messy plate. Athletics just weren't important, not with all the rest of the world competing for his attention. Not to mention that hooligans were a pretty raucous crew in his neighborhood. Picking colors meant picking comrades in arms, and Zayn wasn't meant for war.
He pulls over the car and lets Liam into the boot. Liam has a full platter of vegetables and some bacon ranch dipping sauce.
"I thought you were meant to be a health freak," says Zayn as he pulls back into traffic.
"All of my food groups are represented. Moderate fats, dairy, vegetables ... how is that not healthy?"
"It's got bits of bacon in it."
"Why did you buy it, then? You're Muslim, Zayn."
"I don't know. I know you like to dip your vegetables into stuff."
Liam quirks a brow. He's sucking on the end of a mini carrot and appears to be contemplating how much is too much bacon ranch dip to eat in one setting. He smiles at Zayn's sentiment.
"Thanks for noticing, Zayn. That's awfully sweet of you."
Zayn shrugs. "That's just the kind of guy I am."
"Quite right, yeah," says Liam. "Sweet Zayn."
"No, that's what I call you."
"You do not. You call me simple!"
"Last night, I called you 'Sweet Liam,'" says Zayn.
"I like your pet names for me."
"Shall I call you bacon breath, then?"
"That's rude," says Liam. "I'm probably going to have to brush my teeth or rinse out my mouth with something if I want to kiss you, aren't I? How specific did the Qur'an get about that sort of thing?"
"I'm pretty sure kissing another boy is kind of up there on lists of things good Muslims don't do."
"Don't they view homosexual attraction as a natural temptation, though?" asks Liam.
"I suppose certain sects do, yeah, but they're not too fond of gay sex, I think," says Zayn.
"Good thing we're not having sex then," says Liam.
"I suppose so."
"Funny how similar freeways look in every country."
Zayn hadn't really noticed much. He'd programmed the GPS in the care while he was filling up the petrol tank, and he'd been following the arrows out of habit. Thirty minutes of companionable silence pass between them. Liam finishes the bacon dip and tosses everything into a separate bag. He washes that down with a bottle of water and spits some out the window. If he's trying to make his breath fresh for Zayn, it's too much. Zayn couldn't handle that level of consideration. He can barely get Louis to wipe the toilet seat after a drunken night ends badly. Then here's Liam, spitting water out the window just so he doesn't have pork breath when he kisses Zayn.
Zayn actually sighs.
"Liam, you're a really good mate," he says quietly. "I mean, whatever happens between us, I just want you to know that."
***
"What's that noise?" asks Zayn.
"Transmission, maybe?" says Liam. He lifts his body off the seat to look at the stacks of white smoke coming from underneath the hood.
"Transmission is fine," says Zayn. To prove a point, he shifts into gear and turns on his blinkers. Thank goodness they were on a little dirt highway--had been for half an hour now. Zayn pulls over into a field of very tall grass and turns off the car.
"Won't we start a fire?"
Zayn is miffed. Thirty minutes away from his dream, and they break down in a field of dead grass tall as he is. He tries not to scold Liam too fiercely with a glare.
"Don't look at me like that."
"It's steam, not smoke. Somethings probably overheated," says Zayn. He rubs his face with both hands and pushes the car door open with all his body. The grass is dead but stubborn. He spends nearly ten minutes trying to push the grass down enough to get access to the engine.
"Zayn, you want me to push forward with the car a bit, then do a reverse? It might make it easier."
Zayn rolls his eyes and grunts a vague "yes" in reply.
Zayn steps backward into the grass and nearly stumbles over. He hears the car start and advance, and the sound of grass snapping in half fills his ears like the buzzing of thousands of locusts. Then the car grinds backward until the engine goes silent again. A hand reaches through the grass to grab him.
Liam pretends he doesn't notice how grumpy Zayn is getting. He just dips in the driver's side door, pulls the lever for the boot, and grabs some water. "You want to call Hazza and the lot? See if they're very far."
"Would you mind? I'll figure out the engine. I'm not in the mood for Harry right now."
Liam smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Zayn grabs the water and watches him lean up against the car door. He pulls his hat off and tosses it into the car. He's got a crease in a circle around his head, and Zayn's bad mood fizzles out when he realizes Liam looks like an angel. A real angel. The light is hitting him just right through golden grass, and Zayn wonders if this isn't the universe's way of saying to just cool his fucking jets.
"Hey, Harry. Harry! Harry?" Liam asks. He presses his hand over the phone and looks up at Zayn. "Sounds like the paparazzi found them in some little town called Padua?"
Zayn almost cracks up with laughter. "They've been quarantined!"
Liam quirks his brow. "What?"
"Padua. It's -- nothing. Can they come pick us up?"
"Hold on," says Liam. "Harry, hey. Can you guys turn around and come get us? We're about a half hour outside Verona -- Verona, like ... Yes, from Romeo and Julie. Can you -- Zayn wanted to -- thanks, mate. Yeah, it's on the way back to the house. We'll be on the eastbound highway where it gets all dirty, thirty minutes past Verona -- my driving time, not Louis's. I'll hang a towel or something in this tree that looks like a gnarled hand. There's a whole field of really tall grass, and you should be able to see the car."
Liam hangs up after a minute of nodding and looks at the hood again. There's less steam. Zayn pulls off his shirt and hands it to Liam. Liam gapes at him a minute. "Oh, it's for the tree, you pervert. Louis will recognize it."
Liam is blushing as he heads to the tree to tie the shirt onto one of the finger-like branches. Zayn truly doesn't know anything about Italian cars. This one looks like a regular car aside from a few extra bits and bobs he hasn't got a name for. He wonders what Simon was playing at, sending them out in a faulty car. Then again, this car was probably meant to get them around town and nowhere else.
"What's the prognosis?"
"The smoke is coming from somewhere under this thing," says Zayn, pointing at the carburetor.
"What does it mean?"
"I don't know, Liam," he says as he pokes around. He can't see the source of the steam, but he knows it's probably best that they don't try to drive anymore in their faulty little car. Liam comes to stand beside him and puts a hand around his neck. He squeezes gently at the taut muscles and contemplates the engine like it's a physics problem.
"Let's make the best of today, yeah? We've got a picnic."
"Yeah, let's have a bit of lunch. I bought some stuff for sandwiches.
Liam grabs the grocery bags out of the boot and contemplates where to set them. Zayn isn't sure either, so they wind up in the back seat with the doors open. The heat of the afternoon is enough without a working engine to supply the AC. Liam kicks off his shoes and puts his feet up on the passenger side headrest.
They eat, and as the hours wear on, they lose more and more clothing. Sometime around half past three, Zayn is laying on the backseat with Liam wedged between him and the backseat. They've shut the doors but opened all the windows. Liam thought it'd be safer to push the car a bit further into the grass, which led to a fifteen-minute argument about whether or not the boys would find them. They finally agreed to draw a giant arrow with dead grass but keep the car hidden. Hopefully someone gets the message. They assume they'll hear Harry before they see him, and if not, then -- well, neither of them is willing to imagine what would happen if they were outed to their friends.
By four, though, Liam can barely keep his eyes open. The heat isn't enough to be dangerous, but it's enough to make him sleepy. They've snacked most of the day on bread and crisps and a bit of warm turkey. Zayn is running his hand through the hair at the base of Liam's neck and reading Romeo and Juliet in Urdu. Liam smiles now and again, and his breath blows hot against Zayn's chest. Liam is also tracing his fingers over the gentle slopes of Zayn's abdomen, which halts Zayn's translation now and again when the sensation becomes too much. Finally, when he gets to Tybalt's death scene, Zayn has to occupy Liam's hand with his own because this truly is his favorite part.
"Can I kiss your chest?" asks Liam with his eyes closed.
"Not right now, Liam."
Liam nuzzles his neck and wraps his arm around Zayn's shoulders. "Is Romeo and Juliet more interesting than me?"
"No, baby boy, but if you keep going with that hand, well, let's just say we haven't got any ice to cool me off."
"Charming," says Liam.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Zayn says and sets the phone down. "You have my undivided attention."
Liam huffs and nuzzles Zayn's earlobe with his nose. "No, no, keep reading."
"You haven't been interested this whole time. We can have a spoon or a nap or a snog, Liam. Whatever you want," says Zayn. He pushes Liam's sweaty hair off his forehead and runs a thumb over his eyebrows. He's not sure if they're both grumpy, or just he is.
"Keep reading," Liam says.
Zayn starts up again, this time in English. He finishes up with the Prince's monologue and then puts his phone down on the carpet. This time Liam really is asleep, but Zayn stays awake until he hears the rumbling of another car. He can't hear Harry yet, but just the same, it'd do everyone a world of good if he and Liam weren't both caught in their knickers in the backseat of a car in the middle of nowhere.
"Wake up, baby boy," says Zayn. "Rescuers have arrived."
Liam blinks awake and kisses Zayn's shoulder first thing. Liam reaches for his shirt and starts putting it on. He falls back asleep halfway through, and Zayn has to nudge him awake again. Liam rolls his body so he can get his other arm through the shirt. It's immediately soaked through with sweat. Liam stumbles out of the car and holds his hand in front of his eyes. The headlights glaring at them are blinding. Zayn puts his pants on and stumbles out of the other side of the car. He's growing worried since he has yet to hear Harry or Louis or even Niall. He dives back into the car and grabs his phone.
3 missed texts from Harry read, “On our way.” And then, “Almost there,” and finally, “Knock knock!”
“You guys look tuckered,” comes a voice.
“It's been a bit hot out here, yeah,” says Liam. “Must have fallen asleep.”
Harry is noticeable even before he comes close enough to see. His curls cast a shadow over the entire impromptu campsite. Louis is last out of the SUV.
“Simon got you an SUV?”
“He got us both SUVs. I told you, Liam.”
“You said he got us a car.”
"He did. A big black truck-type car. This little chunk of worthless metal belongs to the homeowner. You guys stole the old man's car. Simon sorted it out with him, but it's no wonder you broke down in the middle of nowhere. He says he hasn't had proper maintenance on this thing for years.”
Zayn and Liam look at each other. The other three think they're going to lose it. Liam goes to the tree and collects Zayn's shirt. Zayn dresses silently. The night has gone quite chilly now that the sun is down, and he's starting to shiver. Niall offers Liam his sweatshirt, and Zayn accepts somebody else's. He's not even looking at faces. He's exhausted and ready to take a long, hot shower and fall into bed. Inhibition doesn't even hinder him from sprawling out in the backseat of the car, his body draped over Liam's. Liam curls around him, and the last thought he has before falling asleep is This isn't Verona, but it's good.
***
The boys are stashed away in a utilities closet at some massive arena. It's three hours to showtime, and Liam can still hear the roadies tuning instruments and shouting obscenities into the microphones. It's a bit crass for his taste, but Zayn is massaging his calf and reading the Qu'ran in Persian.
Liam is leaning against one wall with his legs stretched out. His guitar is in his lap, and he's strumming some lazy tune. Occasionally he sings along, but he wants Zayn to keep whispering. It's probably blasphemous, but he likes the way Zayn's tongue moves when he's whispering Islamic poetry.
"Angel, you sing about beautiful things / And all I want to do is believe. I traded my dreams for this mess of memories / And they just stopped working for me," he sings quietly when Zayn closes his book. Zayn puts his hand up the leg of Liam's jeans and strokes his ankles. He's got this bleary, loving mask plastered to his face.
These sweet moments are divided equally between the heated ones.
Liam isn't sure when he became so needy. They're in the SUV outside a club. Zayn pulled him away before a French girl could offer him ecstasy, and now they're waiting it out until Louis and Harry feel like coming out to the car. Liam ran around the car twice to make sure he couldn't see in through the tinted windows, even if he pressed his face close to the glass. So as soon as he jumps back in the car, he straddles Zayn. Zayn has the good sense to lock the car doors.
"Someone got a bit tipsy," says Zayn. "Aren't you meant to be Mr. Sobriety?"
"I'm just having a good night," says Liam. He pushes Zayn back against the seat and uses the tip of his nose to trace the contours of Zayn's face.
"Well, that may be true, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be so good if you had taken that candy from the French girl."
"Why not?"
"Because, baby boy, you've got one kidney," says Zayn. He puts his hand up the back of Liam's shirt and draws circles on Liam's lower back. Liam arches up and starts making mewling noises in the back of his throat. Zayn's hands are soft, but it's frustrating him. He pouts and shuffles forward with his hips. Zayn's face immediately goes from mildly condescending to hot and bothered.
"You don't have to protect me, Zayn," says Liam.
"Someone has to. You're too sweet. The world will chew you up and spit you out."
"Tonight I'm not sweet."
"What are you tonight, Liam?"
"Frustrated," says Liam.
"Why frustrated?"
Zayn is smirking. He licks his lips and then reaches up to hold onto Liam's chin. The boy stills, and his eyes zero in on Zayn. "You know why. We have rules."
"Your rules," says Zayn. "And I'm not breaking them tonight when you're pissed."
"Please?" whispers Liam. His mouth is agape as Zayn kisses his neck.
"Nope. I'm going to catch us a cab back to the hotel where we can sober up."
"What if you don't like me when I'm sober?"
"I love you when you're sober," says Zayn.
Liam stops wriggling in Zayn's lap. "Did you just say you love me?"
"Sweet, simple Liam," says Zayn and pulls him closer.
"Can we kiss?" asks Liam.
"You get one more kiss tonight. Then, I'm playing Bad Wolf, and we're going home and going to bed."
Liam makes the kiss last. He grabs Zayn's hands and threads their fingers together. Then he drapes those hands on the back of the seat so that they're both without the use of their hands. Zayn fusses because the feeling is mildly stifling, but there's no one else he'd rather be sharing these quiet--albeit sexually charged--moments with. Liam tries once more to buck his hips against Zayn's, but Zayn is willing to resist tonight. He puts his hands on either side of Liam's face and kisses under his chin.
"If you want to amend the secret boyfriend contract we have, you may do so when you're sober. When we're both sober. Until then, I'm going to have to insist, Liam. But I will hail a taxi for you and take you to the hotel. And you can cuddle with me and watch American movies with French subtitles, okay?"
Liam pouts. He actually pouts. "Fine."
"I promise. If you're feeling this way tomorrow night, we'll see what the lawyers can make of that boyfriend contract."
"Boyfriend," says Liam quietly. He's mulling the word over on his thick tongue. "Deal."
( Part Deux)
Title: We Are Nowhere and It's Now
Characters/Relationship: Liam/Zayn + Danielle (in later parts; prevalence to still be determined)
Synopsis: Zayn has a problem. Mostly, it's the fact that all he wants to do lately is kiss Liam.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: This is for aimmyarrowshigh who likes fluff in all forms. I hope this is fluffy enough for you!
Last Updated: 02/23/12 @ 05:28 p.m.
The way Liam is eating his cupcake is criminal. Zayn wonders with a slight tilt of his head why Liam isn't more popular with the ladies.
The five of them are all sitting around. Someone brought cupcakes, although no one in the band is really much of a sweet-tooth. Liam must be hungry or bored or both because he's on his second cake. They're all in makeup and wardrobe, all looking very dapper-especially Liam, whose clothes seem to be a size too small. Zayn knows why, too. It's because Liam is fit in a way none of the others are. Liam's got sinew beneath all that designer swag. He works out. He was going to be in the bloody Olympics for crying out loud, and that's something Zayn can't quite wrap his head around. He won't complain, though. If the girls in wardrobe want to dress Liam like an American gangster from the 20's, who is Zayn to ruin their dreams?
When he's done, Liam throws the paper down on the table and pats his belly like some contented cartoon feline who just ate the Tweety bird. Zayn can't say that the shift behind his belly button is something entirely surprising, or even new. He will say that every time he feels his guts churn it makes it harder for him to resist doing things he wants to do. When they're called around to start shooting, Zayn has to distance himself from Liam.
Quiet, simple little Liam: who is showing off his trousers on camera; who is jumping up on the sofa like he's surfing it; who is straining against his waistcoat. And isn't it kind of Zayn's duty to save a friend if he can't even breathe?
The turning point comes after dark. Everyone's cold, and Zayn is watching Liam talk to the camera about Harry's little power nap on the sofa. His voice, his stance, Zayn cannot stand it. It's not unprecedented that he do such things, and that's all the flimsy excuse he needs. He propels himself forward mid-sentence, grabs Liam's face, and plants a sloppy kiss square on the boy's lips.
Liam tenses up, but Zayn finds comfort in knowing that his eyes close immediately. You don't close your eyes for just any kiss between mates. Eye-closing is an establishment of trust with your kissing partner. It says that you promise not to stare too closely at their face and judge their pores or their kinky eyebrows. His eyes close briefly too. Then he comes to his senses and withdraws.
Behind him he hears, “I love it.”
When he turns back around, Liam is laying on the ground smiling. His eyes are on Zayn-dreamy eyes big as saucers. His smile curls up at the edges, and Zayn can't be sure but that face has the word smitten tattooed across the forehead.
Which causes a shift in parts due south of his belly button.
***They have the day free. In Italy.
Liam comes out of the bathroom wearing cargo shorts and white sneakers and no shirt. No. Fucking. Shirt.
Zayn suddenly goes grumpy and storms off to find some water. He watches the other boys storm into the backyard. Louis and Harry settle in to watch Liam and Niall kick the football around the yard.
From his place at the window, he can see the beads of sweat falling down the small of Liam's back. He wants so badly to reach out and touch Liam. Really touch him. He realizes he's hard at the same time someone bursts through the side door. Zayn is gone faster than he can comprehend. He runs up the stairs to his room and slams it shut. He's sharing with Niall this trip, but if it's Niall wanting in, he can fucking wait.
Zayn knows his bedroom overlooks the backyard. He spent all night leaning out the window smoking weed with Niall. He can't recall what his conversations with Niall are about, but they range from deep to spacey-case. Sometimes he and Niall can just sit and stare and not say a word, and it's hardly ever uncomfortable with him. They're best mates. But right now, as he slides his hand into his pants, the last person on his mind is Niall.
It's sweet, simple Liam. Whose back muscles are taut as he squats in front of the makeshift goal. Whose hair is plastered to his face with sweat. Zayn wants to ride this high all afternoon, but he comes too quickly and is twice as grumpy as before. He finds one of Niall's socks and uses it to clean up his hand a bit. He'll want a shower and a proper pair of trousers. He pokes around his suitcase until he finds some sweats and his favorite hoodie. He's not trying to impress anyone tonight. He'd rather mope about and watch some proper Italian films because that's the sort of mood he's in.
He showers and preens for a good hour before exiting. Niall rushes in almost as soon as he's opened the door.
"Fuck me, Zayn, what were you doing in here?" asks Niall.
"Not all of us were blessed with adorable freckles, Niall. Some of us have to work for our looks."
Niall slaps him on the behind. Zayn does a little dance and winds up horsing around for a few minutes with Niall. It feels organic, what the two of them have. Zayn manages to hoist Niall over his shoulder and dump him into the bath. He's about to turn on the water, but Niall screeches like a banshee sent from hell.
"Don't you dare! I've got my mobile in my pocket, Zayn."
Zayn smirks. "Yeah, all right, but I owe you a real good one."
"Who is Zayn giving it to?" asks Harry from the doorway.
"Zayn hasn't got anybody," says Niall and hooks a leg around Zayn's waist. Zayn lands on top of Niall in the tub, straddling his chest. Then Harry's in there as well.
"Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub," says Louis from the doorway. "Just so long as no one's touching my boyfriend's candlestick."
"No one's interested in your boyfriend's candlestick," says Niall.
Louis helps Harry out of the tub, and Zayn is surprised when another pair of arms grabs him under the armpits. He turns around, expecting Harry or Louis, but it's Liam.
"All right, Zayn?" he asks.
"Yeah," says Zayn in reply. He stares a moment too long at Liam's lower lip. Someone clears his throat, and Zayn snaps out of whatever trance held him in place.
"I'm going to go find a corner market and get something to drink," says Zayn. He pushes past the others and searches for his shoes among the mess of their little rented house. When he finds them, he sits on the stairs to lace them up. The others are watching him without saying a word. Even Niall, half soaked with residual tub water, is giving him a funny look.
"Zayn?" asks Harry. He's the only one brave enough to speak up.
"What, Harry?" says Zayn. He's not angry. Just so tired.
"What's up with you?"
"I'm just exhausted. I need an energy drink or something. I'll be back in a bit."
He grabs his wallet and walks out on them before anyone can get too motherly. It's not until he's halfway to the store that he realizes he has a tail. It starts as quiet shuffling now and again, but then it's more than just that. The footsteps are following him across the narrow streets, through alleyways, and past crowded late-night hotspots where lovers coil up and drink espresso under the stars.
It's been a fair few years since he's been in an actual fight. It's not like anyone is going to recognize him in Milan after dark, but someone is following him for sure. Just as he crosses a little alleyway, he spins on his heels and prepares himself to attack.
But it's Liam, who looks startled and sort of runs into him before he can correct his path. Zayn steadies him by the shoulders.
"I nearly had a heart attack here, Liam. Why are you following me?"
"We're kind of worried about you, mate," says Liam. "You're acting odd. Harry thinks it could be cocaine."
"Good to know my mates think so highly of me," says Zayn. He turns back around. It would seem childish if Liam were to see him roll his eyes, but turning his back on one of his best friends and the object of his masturbatory dreams seems pretty grown-up to Zayn. Liam grabs his hand and stops him.
"Come on, Zayn. What's the matter with you?"
"Just forget about it, Liam."
"No. We're worried. You've been acting funny this whole trip. Come on, spill it."
Zayn lifts his hood and leans back against the brick facade of an old bakery. The patio is occupied by a few little tables and chairs, but either no one eats bread from this shop or it's closed. Liam is watching him closely. It's almost as if he thinks Zayn is going to run. Liam steps closer so a couple can pass on the sidewalk behind him. When he turns back to Zayn, he's smiling still.
"So, what's wro--"
Zayn reaches across the small gap and pulls Liam to him. Liam falls into him, and their hips align. Liam groans a bit and shifts, but that turns out to be a bit awkward for the both of them. Zayn tries to think of mud or Louis--things that don't turn him on at all. He remembers what he wanted to do, but he's quickly losing nerve. And Liam's hipbone is digging into his in just such a way that Zayn is swelling with a crumbly feeling that leaves his face warm.
"Why didn't you just say so?" asks Liam.
"What?"
Liam smiles expectantly and moves his hips a little bit more. When Zayn just keeps looking at him, Liam rolls his eyes. "Will you kiss me already or what?"
"Here?"
"It's not like we have the paparazzi following us around. Just, oh forget it...."
Liam starts to pivot, but Zayn catches his leg right under the knee and holds it against his side. The position is awkward but not uncomfortable. Zayn leans in to kiss Liam, but he catches teeth the first try. Liam laughs.
"I know you can do better than that. I've seen you snog half a dozen girls at parties," says Liam.
The next time he tries it, Zayn catches Liam on the corner of his mouth. He goes to correct his mistake, but Liam's mouth is already open. Zayn figures this is going to be one of those kisses you only see in foreign movies. Things might not be pretty, but passion compensates for a fairly large gap in talent. Zayn not only grips the back of Liam's head, but he scratches his stubby nails up his scalp. In return, Liam trembles all over and drops his head back. Zayn wonders if Liam wants this as badly as he does. The expectant mouth agape look seems to answer his question.
Zayn leans forward and licks a clean line from Liam's Adam's apple to just behind the ear. That seems like a fair spot to work with. Liam just sticks his hands in the pocket of Zayn's sweatshirt and stays very still. Zayn feels like he's absorbing electricity from the houses nearby. Every cell in his body thrums. When he scrapes his teeth down Liam's neck, Liam reacts by grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging.
"Fuck, Zayn," he says. And this boy curses about as often as the Pope, so this is how Zayn knows Liam isn't just being polite.
"We can't really do anymore out here without attracting attention," says Zayn.
"I don't want to do anything more. I just want to kiss," says Liam.
"How long have you wanted to kiss?"
"I don't know. A long time, I reckon," says Liam. His breathing is labored, and Zayn really doesn't know what to do with himself. He lets go of Liam's leg.
"We really should get back to the house."
"You owe me an hour of snogging," says Liam. "Not a minute less."
"An hour? Steep rate."
"I'm worth it," says Liam. Zayn knows he's moving his hips on purpose, but he can't prove it because Liam is showing nothing on his face that indicates a slyness of character.
"Fine. I owe you an hour. At least," says Zayn.
"At least. It's the bare minimum to assess where this is going to go," says Liam.
Zayn quirks a brow. "Assess? Is this a business venture?"
"No, it's a testing the waters venture. We have the band to think about on top of everything. If the dynamic shifts, we have to kind of pull back and reevaluate--" says Liam, but he's abruptly cut off by Zayn turning his head. Zayn licks the whorl of Liam's ear, and then presses a kiss to it.
"Shut up about business ventures and evaluations. I'll fucking kiss you, if you please," says Zayn in a throaty whisper and thrusts his hip forward so as to separate himself from Liam. Liam looks a bit stunned but leads the way toward the corner store he saw on their ride in.
"Oh, and next time you wank off in the window, you might want to close the shades."
To which, Zayn has no reply.
***
Liam has a large bag filled with goodies for the boys, and Zayn hands Niall his Italian junk food. Niall takes it without tearing his eyes from the television. An old version of Romeo and Juliet is playing on the telly. Harry is passed out beside Louis. That doesn't stop Zayn from shouting, "Hey, turn it up. This is my favorite part."
He slumps down between Harry and Niall. Liam comes back to the kitchen with a glass of wine looking a bit hurt, actually. Zayn ignores it. He can nurse his wounded ego--for an our, at least--when everyone else has gone to bed. For now, Liam is going to have to settle in beside Louis and watch as Tybalt and Romeo beat the ever-loving crap out of each other.
Zayn knows why he likes this part. Vulnerable Romeo sneaks into Juliet's window so they may consummate their marriage. He's bloody and bruised, and poor Juliet is forced for the first time to pick her lover over family. That's Zayn's analysis, at least. She comforts Romeo rather than reject him. She cleans up his wound and then loses her virginity on her wedding night. Although, Zayn's thought for a long time that Romeo wasn't exactly pure at this point. Fickle and passionate as he was, Zayn always figured Romeo probably defied some young maiden far before he ever got his hands on Juliet.
Zayn doesn't even notice that he's watching the play in Italian. He knows what's happening. It's written on everyone's faces, and he has this play memorized anyway. Niall falls asleep second, then Louis. Liam clears his throat over Stylinson's head and nods toward the kitchen.
Zayn does not want to snog in the kitchen, no matter how rustic it appears. He wants someplace quiet and secluded. Out in the open with their mates all passed out on the couch seems to Zayn like it'd be more nerve-wracking than a turn-on. They have their whole kissing careers to consider the thrill of being caught. Right now, though, Zayn doesn't want to be caught. He wants to kiss without fear, without any pretenses. Zayn grabs his tea off the table and nods up the stairs.
He arrives at Liam's room and takes a swig from his tea. Liam does it on purpose, doesn't he? He is lifting his shirt off his head halfway up the stairs and sticks it in his back pocket. Zayn grabs him by the waist and dips down to kiss him above his clavicle.
"Time doesn't start until we move into the bedroom," says Liam quietly. Zayn rises to the challenge and sets his tea against the wall. On his way back up, he kisses Liam on each rib. The way Liam's stomach pulls in is apt to drive him batty.
"Get in. You're tensing up just standing here, and according to the rules, there won't be any relieving our tension with each other."
Liam nods and moves into the room. He sits down on the bed facing Zayn. Zayn feels a bit put-on when he removes his sweater. Liam's face dissolves into a smile because Liam never smiles with just his lips. His whole body opens up, and Zayn won't resist the urge to explore this completely open body.
He locks the door. Two rules have already been established. One, kissing is it. He can tell Liam is not ready for anything more, no matter how phenomenal a blowjob may feel. To be honest, it suits Zayn because he's definitely not ready to try giving blowjobs. Two, no one can find out. They're definitely not ready for full public displays of affection. Liam seems nervous now, even when it's only the two of them. Even after they made out against an Italian bakery.
"Turn around," says Zayn.
Liam's eyes go a bit funny--wide and panicked. He even shakes his head involuntarily before going still.
"I'm not going to plunder your manhood," says Zayn. "Just turn around, you git."
They'll need to establish trust. Zayn can't have Liam thinking he's some sex pervert from south Yorkshire. He runs the tip of his finger up Liam's back right alongside the spine. Liam breaks out in gooesbumps and stops breathing.
"Come on. Lean forward a bit," says Zayn.
Again, he's met with hesitancy. Liam does as he's told and lifts up his knees a little so he can lean forward onto them. Zayn rolls his eyes and gives a little laugh.
"I'm not going to steal your innocence, Payne. But kissing isn't going to be fun for either of us if you're all tense."
"This is just ... very, very new to me."
"What, and I make out with random guys all the time?" says Zayn a bit too harshly. He gnashes his teeth against Liam's shoulder without making any contact. Biting Liam isn't the way to open him up. He needs something sweet and delicate.
Zayn runs his whole hand up Liam's spine this time. He goes until his hand is buried in Liam's hair. He's applying slight pressure so Liam knows to bow his head forward. Then Zayn is kissing the back of his neck. Liam's breathing is slightly labored, but their chests rise and fall together as Zayn presses closer. Liam eventually relaxes though. Zayn swears he's purring like a kitten.
"That feels really nice," says Liam.
Zayn is stroking his sides with just the tips of his fingers.
"Yeah?"
"Mm," is all Liam manages in return.
He isn't sure how this turns into a back massage, but he's kneading Liam's taut muscles between his fingers. Liam unwinds after thirty minutes of Zayn kissing and touching him. Zayn thinks he might have fallen asleep, but Liam leans back into him and kisses Zayn on the underside of his chin.
"Sweet little Liam," says Zayn and kisses the bridge of his nose.
"Tired little Liam," says Liam in return.
"You're more of a cat than Hazza," says Zayn. "Tickle you a little bit, and you're too exhausted to continue on."
"I'm sorry. You didn't even get any kisses," says Liam.
"I'll survive. Come on. Get some sleep. We have our whole lives ahead of us to explore this thing. We don't want to get burnt out too early on in the tryst."
"You mean it?" asks Liam.
"Yeah. Come on, get under the covers. I'll tuck you in."
Liam rolls over and kisses Zayn's knee. Zayn gets up and let's Liam get comfortable. Once he is, Zayn lays down beside him in the bed. They're separated by all that fabric, but Zayn can still feel the heat radiating between them. He grins and kisses Liam very softly on the lips.
"Night, Liam," he says.
"Night, Zayn."
Zayn makes a mental note not to relax Liam too much before they start snogging or else nothing is ever going to get done between the two. Not that he minds. He really does love Liam and would wait eons for a kiss if he had to. Not because he's some godly saint, but because Liam is definitely worth it. Liam is this little sparkling point on the horizon in a way that not even Harry is. Zayn kisses him once more and then rolls off the bed to avoid waking him up.
He sneaks out of the room, closes the door quietly behind him, and doesn't remember his sweater until he's downstairs, shirtless. Harry is eating a bit of pizza with his eyes half-closed.
"Have a good talk with Liam, then?" asks Harry.
"Yeah, we sorted some stuff out."
Even half-asleep, Harry's eyebrows go up as though he's insinuating something. Zayn takes the pizza away from him.
"Go to sleep, Hazza," says Zayn. "It's really late. We have a big day tomorrow."
"We have tomorrow off, Zayn," says Harry. "Louis, Niall, and I are going to try and see the Vatican or something."
"That sounds fun," says Zayn mildly.
Harry smirks. "Yeah, it should be. You think you and Liam can keep yourselves occupied now that you've sorted everything?"
"I'm sure we can think of something."
It doesn't even occur to Zayn as he's settling into bed that Vatican City is five hours from Milan. There's no way in hell anyone is going to drive five hours and be able to see the Vatican and then drive five hours back home. The thought does occur to him that Verona isn't that far away. Can't be more than a couple hours. Zayn settles into sleep because tomorrow he's going to get to see where Romeo and Juliet lived their short lives.
But first, he'll have to ask Liam to be his date.***
The house is quiet when he wakes up. He rolls out of bed, makes a trip to the bathroom, and winds up in the kitchen. It doesn't occur to him until he's halfway through a bit of coffee that the house is suspiciously quiet. He remembers Harry saying something about Vatican City, but it's more likely the boys will be distracted by something shiny just out of reach. Louis will spend all day trying to please Harry, and Niall will spend all day pretending he doesn't notice Harry gripping Louis's inner thigh when they take a turn down a rough bit of country road.
Liam comes through the front door drenched in sweat. He's got his trainers on and some matching track suit. Zayn wonders if Liam sets aside all his outfits for a month in advance. There's never been a time where he hasn't looked impeccable, and Zayn can't say that of all the boys.
"Morning," says Liam too loudly. He pulls the ear buds out of his ears and shakes his hair out. "Sorry. Morning. I've just been for a run."
"It's okay. I think the others have gone."
"Yeah, they went ... what did Harry say? I can't remember. I hadn't properly woken up, and Harry always says a lot in one go."
"Yeah. Do we have a car today?"
"I think so. Simon called yesterday, I guess, and talked to Harry for a bit. We woke up and had cars ready for us. I guess he probably mentioned we wanted to see some sights before tomorrow."
"Did you want to maybe go somewhere with me? It doesn't have to be, you know, anything like the Vatican."
"Where were you thinking?"
"Well, I mean, Verona is only a two hour drive. I've always wanted to see it. I just never thought I'd ever be close enough to try."
"That sounds really fun, actually. Let me shower."
"All right. I'll go grab us some snacks for the road then."
"Sounds good. A date, then," says Liam.
Zayn puffs up at the word, and Liam smiles. Zayn passes him when he goes back upstairs and kisses him hard on the mouth.
"Give you something to think about in the shower," says Zayn. Liam rolls his eyes but appears open to the suggestion.
"Such a romantic," he says, but the smile never leaves his face.
Zayn pops to the market in the car and grabs the healthiest things he can manage. Bruschetta seems like a decent option since it's basically just salsa on top of bread. Zayn picks out some crisps for himself and some powdered donuts as well. He's not sure what else might appeal to Liam. There's really nothing healthy to order at a corner market. He ends up grabbing quite a bit of food, and between this mess, he hopes there's enough for Liam to eat.
Back at the house, Liam is waiting on the steps. He's got his hat on backwards. This is usually what he does until his hair is dry.
"Get in, lover boy. The day is about to begin."
Liam climbs into the car. "Are you licensed to drive this vehicle?"
"Probably not."
"What did you get us to eat?"
"Oh, hell. It's in the boot. Did you want anything now?"
"Yeah, pull over a minute. I need to eat."
"Are you okay?" asks Zayn.
"Peachy keen. I just need to eat. Running, you know?"
Zayn doesn't know. He never had any place for athletics. His life before this gig was a bit of a messy plate. Athletics just weren't important, not with all the rest of the world competing for his attention. Not to mention that hooligans were a pretty raucous crew in his neighborhood. Picking colors meant picking comrades in arms, and Zayn wasn't meant for war.
He pulls over the car and lets Liam into the boot. Liam has a full platter of vegetables and some bacon ranch dipping sauce.
"I thought you were meant to be a health freak," says Zayn as he pulls back into traffic.
"All of my food groups are represented. Moderate fats, dairy, vegetables ... how is that not healthy?"
"It's got bits of bacon in it."
"Why did you buy it, then? You're Muslim, Zayn."
"I don't know. I know you like to dip your vegetables into stuff."
Liam quirks a brow. He's sucking on the end of a mini carrot and appears to be contemplating how much is too much bacon ranch dip to eat in one setting. He smiles at Zayn's sentiment.
"Thanks for noticing, Zayn. That's awfully sweet of you."
Zayn shrugs. "That's just the kind of guy I am."
"Quite right, yeah," says Liam. "Sweet Zayn."
"No, that's what I call you."
"You do not. You call me simple!"
"Last night, I called you 'Sweet Liam,'" says Zayn.
"I like your pet names for me."
"Shall I call you bacon breath, then?"
"That's rude," says Liam. "I'm probably going to have to brush my teeth or rinse out my mouth with something if I want to kiss you, aren't I? How specific did the Qur'an get about that sort of thing?"
"I'm pretty sure kissing another boy is kind of up there on lists of things good Muslims don't do."
"Don't they view homosexual attraction as a natural temptation, though?" asks Liam.
"I suppose certain sects do, yeah, but they're not too fond of gay sex, I think," says Zayn.
"Good thing we're not having sex then," says Liam.
"I suppose so."
"Funny how similar freeways look in every country."
Zayn hadn't really noticed much. He'd programmed the GPS in the care while he was filling up the petrol tank, and he'd been following the arrows out of habit. Thirty minutes of companionable silence pass between them. Liam finishes the bacon dip and tosses everything into a separate bag. He washes that down with a bottle of water and spits some out the window. If he's trying to make his breath fresh for Zayn, it's too much. Zayn couldn't handle that level of consideration. He can barely get Louis to wipe the toilet seat after a drunken night ends badly. Then here's Liam, spitting water out the window just so he doesn't have pork breath when he kisses Zayn.
Zayn actually sighs.
"Liam, you're a really good mate," he says quietly. "I mean, whatever happens between us, I just want you to know that."
***
"What's that noise?" asks Zayn.
"Transmission, maybe?" says Liam. He lifts his body off the seat to look at the stacks of white smoke coming from underneath the hood.
"Transmission is fine," says Zayn. To prove a point, he shifts into gear and turns on his blinkers. Thank goodness they were on a little dirt highway--had been for half an hour now. Zayn pulls over into a field of very tall grass and turns off the car.
"Won't we start a fire?"
Zayn is miffed. Thirty minutes away from his dream, and they break down in a field of dead grass tall as he is. He tries not to scold Liam too fiercely with a glare.
"Don't look at me like that."
"It's steam, not smoke. Somethings probably overheated," says Zayn. He rubs his face with both hands and pushes the car door open with all his body. The grass is dead but stubborn. He spends nearly ten minutes trying to push the grass down enough to get access to the engine.
"Zayn, you want me to push forward with the car a bit, then do a reverse? It might make it easier."
Zayn rolls his eyes and grunts a vague "yes" in reply.
Zayn steps backward into the grass and nearly stumbles over. He hears the car start and advance, and the sound of grass snapping in half fills his ears like the buzzing of thousands of locusts. Then the car grinds backward until the engine goes silent again. A hand reaches through the grass to grab him.
Liam pretends he doesn't notice how grumpy Zayn is getting. He just dips in the driver's side door, pulls the lever for the boot, and grabs some water. "You want to call Hazza and the lot? See if they're very far."
"Would you mind? I'll figure out the engine. I'm not in the mood for Harry right now."
Liam smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Zayn grabs the water and watches him lean up against the car door. He pulls his hat off and tosses it into the car. He's got a crease in a circle around his head, and Zayn's bad mood fizzles out when he realizes Liam looks like an angel. A real angel. The light is hitting him just right through golden grass, and Zayn wonders if this isn't the universe's way of saying to just cool his fucking jets.
"Hey, Harry. Harry! Harry?" Liam asks. He presses his hand over the phone and looks up at Zayn. "Sounds like the paparazzi found them in some little town called Padua?"
Zayn almost cracks up with laughter. "They've been quarantined!"
Liam quirks his brow. "What?"
"Padua. It's -- nothing. Can they come pick us up?"
"Hold on," says Liam. "Harry, hey. Can you guys turn around and come get us? We're about a half hour outside Verona -- Verona, like ... Yes, from Romeo and Julie. Can you -- Zayn wanted to -- thanks, mate. Yeah, it's on the way back to the house. We'll be on the eastbound highway where it gets all dirty, thirty minutes past Verona -- my driving time, not Louis's. I'll hang a towel or something in this tree that looks like a gnarled hand. There's a whole field of really tall grass, and you should be able to see the car."
Liam hangs up after a minute of nodding and looks at the hood again. There's less steam. Zayn pulls off his shirt and hands it to Liam. Liam gapes at him a minute. "Oh, it's for the tree, you pervert. Louis will recognize it."
Liam is blushing as he heads to the tree to tie the shirt onto one of the finger-like branches. Zayn truly doesn't know anything about Italian cars. This one looks like a regular car aside from a few extra bits and bobs he hasn't got a name for. He wonders what Simon was playing at, sending them out in a faulty car. Then again, this car was probably meant to get them around town and nowhere else.
"What's the prognosis?"
"The smoke is coming from somewhere under this thing," says Zayn, pointing at the carburetor.
"What does it mean?"
"I don't know, Liam," he says as he pokes around. He can't see the source of the steam, but he knows it's probably best that they don't try to drive anymore in their faulty little car. Liam comes to stand beside him and puts a hand around his neck. He squeezes gently at the taut muscles and contemplates the engine like it's a physics problem.
"Let's make the best of today, yeah? We've got a picnic."
"Yeah, let's have a bit of lunch. I bought some stuff for sandwiches.
Liam grabs the grocery bags out of the boot and contemplates where to set them. Zayn isn't sure either, so they wind up in the back seat with the doors open. The heat of the afternoon is enough without a working engine to supply the AC. Liam kicks off his shoes and puts his feet up on the passenger side headrest.
They eat, and as the hours wear on, they lose more and more clothing. Sometime around half past three, Zayn is laying on the backseat with Liam wedged between him and the backseat. They've shut the doors but opened all the windows. Liam thought it'd be safer to push the car a bit further into the grass, which led to a fifteen-minute argument about whether or not the boys would find them. They finally agreed to draw a giant arrow with dead grass but keep the car hidden. Hopefully someone gets the message. They assume they'll hear Harry before they see him, and if not, then -- well, neither of them is willing to imagine what would happen if they were outed to their friends.
By four, though, Liam can barely keep his eyes open. The heat isn't enough to be dangerous, but it's enough to make him sleepy. They've snacked most of the day on bread and crisps and a bit of warm turkey. Zayn is running his hand through the hair at the base of Liam's neck and reading Romeo and Juliet in Urdu. Liam smiles now and again, and his breath blows hot against Zayn's chest. Liam is also tracing his fingers over the gentle slopes of Zayn's abdomen, which halts Zayn's translation now and again when the sensation becomes too much. Finally, when he gets to Tybalt's death scene, Zayn has to occupy Liam's hand with his own because this truly is his favorite part.
"Can I kiss your chest?" asks Liam with his eyes closed.
"Not right now, Liam."
Liam nuzzles his neck and wraps his arm around Zayn's shoulders. "Is Romeo and Juliet more interesting than me?"
"No, baby boy, but if you keep going with that hand, well, let's just say we haven't got any ice to cool me off."
"Charming," says Liam.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Zayn says and sets the phone down. "You have my undivided attention."
Liam huffs and nuzzles Zayn's earlobe with his nose. "No, no, keep reading."
"You haven't been interested this whole time. We can have a spoon or a nap or a snog, Liam. Whatever you want," says Zayn. He pushes Liam's sweaty hair off his forehead and runs a thumb over his eyebrows. He's not sure if they're both grumpy, or just he is.
"Keep reading," Liam says.
Zayn starts up again, this time in English. He finishes up with the Prince's monologue and then puts his phone down on the carpet. This time Liam really is asleep, but Zayn stays awake until he hears the rumbling of another car. He can't hear Harry yet, but just the same, it'd do everyone a world of good if he and Liam weren't both caught in their knickers in the backseat of a car in the middle of nowhere.
"Wake up, baby boy," says Zayn. "Rescuers have arrived."
Liam blinks awake and kisses Zayn's shoulder first thing. Liam reaches for his shirt and starts putting it on. He falls back asleep halfway through, and Zayn has to nudge him awake again. Liam rolls his body so he can get his other arm through the shirt. It's immediately soaked through with sweat. Liam stumbles out of the car and holds his hand in front of his eyes. The headlights glaring at them are blinding. Zayn puts his pants on and stumbles out of the other side of the car. He's growing worried since he has yet to hear Harry or Louis or even Niall. He dives back into the car and grabs his phone.
3 missed texts from Harry read, “On our way.” And then, “Almost there,” and finally, “Knock knock!”
“You guys look tuckered,” comes a voice.
“It's been a bit hot out here, yeah,” says Liam. “Must have fallen asleep.”
Harry is noticeable even before he comes close enough to see. His curls cast a shadow over the entire impromptu campsite. Louis is last out of the SUV.
“Simon got you an SUV?”
“He got us both SUVs. I told you, Liam.”
“You said he got us a car.”
"He did. A big black truck-type car. This little chunk of worthless metal belongs to the homeowner. You guys stole the old man's car. Simon sorted it out with him, but it's no wonder you broke down in the middle of nowhere. He says he hasn't had proper maintenance on this thing for years.”
Zayn and Liam look at each other. The other three think they're going to lose it. Liam goes to the tree and collects Zayn's shirt. Zayn dresses silently. The night has gone quite chilly now that the sun is down, and he's starting to shiver. Niall offers Liam his sweatshirt, and Zayn accepts somebody else's. He's not even looking at faces. He's exhausted and ready to take a long, hot shower and fall into bed. Inhibition doesn't even hinder him from sprawling out in the backseat of the car, his body draped over Liam's. Liam curls around him, and the last thought he has before falling asleep is This isn't Verona, but it's good.
***
The boys are stashed away in a utilities closet at some massive arena. It's three hours to showtime, and Liam can still hear the roadies tuning instruments and shouting obscenities into the microphones. It's a bit crass for his taste, but Zayn is massaging his calf and reading the Qu'ran in Persian.
Liam is leaning against one wall with his legs stretched out. His guitar is in his lap, and he's strumming some lazy tune. Occasionally he sings along, but he wants Zayn to keep whispering. It's probably blasphemous, but he likes the way Zayn's tongue moves when he's whispering Islamic poetry.
"Angel, you sing about beautiful things / And all I want to do is believe. I traded my dreams for this mess of memories / And they just stopped working for me," he sings quietly when Zayn closes his book. Zayn puts his hand up the leg of Liam's jeans and strokes his ankles. He's got this bleary, loving mask plastered to his face.
These sweet moments are divided equally between the heated ones.
Liam isn't sure when he became so needy. They're in the SUV outside a club. Zayn pulled him away before a French girl could offer him ecstasy, and now they're waiting it out until Louis and Harry feel like coming out to the car. Liam ran around the car twice to make sure he couldn't see in through the tinted windows, even if he pressed his face close to the glass. So as soon as he jumps back in the car, he straddles Zayn. Zayn has the good sense to lock the car doors.
"Someone got a bit tipsy," says Zayn. "Aren't you meant to be Mr. Sobriety?"
"I'm just having a good night," says Liam. He pushes Zayn back against the seat and uses the tip of his nose to trace the contours of Zayn's face.
"Well, that may be true, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be so good if you had taken that candy from the French girl."
"Why not?"
"Because, baby boy, you've got one kidney," says Zayn. He puts his hand up the back of Liam's shirt and draws circles on Liam's lower back. Liam arches up and starts making mewling noises in the back of his throat. Zayn's hands are soft, but it's frustrating him. He pouts and shuffles forward with his hips. Zayn's face immediately goes from mildly condescending to hot and bothered.
"You don't have to protect me, Zayn," says Liam.
"Someone has to. You're too sweet. The world will chew you up and spit you out."
"Tonight I'm not sweet."
"What are you tonight, Liam?"
"Frustrated," says Liam.
"Why frustrated?"
Zayn is smirking. He licks his lips and then reaches up to hold onto Liam's chin. The boy stills, and his eyes zero in on Zayn. "You know why. We have rules."
"Your rules," says Zayn. "And I'm not breaking them tonight when you're pissed."
"Please?" whispers Liam. His mouth is agape as Zayn kisses his neck.
"Nope. I'm going to catch us a cab back to the hotel where we can sober up."
"What if you don't like me when I'm sober?"
"I love you when you're sober," says Zayn.
Liam stops wriggling in Zayn's lap. "Did you just say you love me?"
"Sweet, simple Liam," says Zayn and pulls him closer.
"Can we kiss?" asks Liam.
"You get one more kiss tonight. Then, I'm playing Bad Wolf, and we're going home and going to bed."
Liam makes the kiss last. He grabs Zayn's hands and threads their fingers together. Then he drapes those hands on the back of the seat so that they're both without the use of their hands. Zayn fusses because the feeling is mildly stifling, but there's no one else he'd rather be sharing these quiet--albeit sexually charged--moments with. Liam tries once more to buck his hips against Zayn's, but Zayn is willing to resist tonight. He puts his hands on either side of Liam's face and kisses under his chin.
"If you want to amend the secret boyfriend contract we have, you may do so when you're sober. When we're both sober. Until then, I'm going to have to insist, Liam. But I will hail a taxi for you and take you to the hotel. And you can cuddle with me and watch American movies with French subtitles, okay?"
Liam pouts. He actually pouts. "Fine."
"I promise. If you're feeling this way tomorrow night, we'll see what the lawyers can make of that boyfriend contract."
"Boyfriend," says Liam quietly. He's mulling the word over on his thick tongue. "Deal."
( Part Deux)