fic: a tornado flew around
part three
When Zayn gets back to the tour bus his four boys are waiting for him, pale-faced and anxious.
"Where have you been - "
"Zayn - "
but Zayn ignores them, walks straight past them and into the bathroom. He slams the door shut and sinks to the floor, brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them and fuck, fuck, fuck, what did he do? He got papped kissing a boy. He got papped kissing a boy when he's supposed to be in a relationship with a girl and -
Oh fuck.
Perrie.
He reaches for his phone with trembling fingers, only barely manages to key in her number.
She answers almost instantly, though Zayn has no idea what time it is where she is.
"Perrie," is all he manages, voice cracking through his anguish.
"Zayn, hey, it's alright. It's. It's ok - "
"No, it's not. Pez, I - "
"It's ok," she says and she sounds a lot like she's trying really hard to be brave, "Liam called. He told me what happened."
Zayn lets her words sink, thanks god for Liam's foresight, thanks god for Liam, really.
"I'm so sorry, Perrie, I didn't know what else to do - "
"Oh babe, I know. We'll manage yeah? We'll fix this, whatever it is. We will."
"Throw me under the bus yeah? Call me a cheater. Don't. Don't let it fall back on you. Promise me."
"Zayn - "
"Promise me."
He hears her sigh.
"Promise," she whispers.
"I should go," he says, and he's scared, he realizes. Scared to face the others because - Fuck. This could ruin them, couldn't it?
"I love - " she starts, but he cuts her off.
"Don't," he says. "Just. Don't."
--
Liam's on his feet almost as soon as Zayn finally manages to make it out of the bathroom and his eyes lock on Zayn's, trapping him with an expression that Zayn can't read and he can't look away, can't form words, can't even breathe, and apparently neither can Liam, but it doesn't matter because the rest of the band is there suddenly, rushing in to fill in the blanks like they always do.
"Alright?" Harry asks him, taking Zayn's hand and interlacing their fingers. And Zayn can't look away from Liam but he squeezes Harry's hand back.
"I'm. I'm fine. I'll be fine," he says softly, and it's Niall this time who reaches out to Liam, reassures him with hands on his waist in a way that Zayn can't manage. Not yet. "I'm sorry," he croaks out.
"Zayn - " Liam whispers, and his voice is wrecked and he doesn't continue and Louis picks up where he leaves off, resting warm hands on their shoulders.
"Don't be sorry," he says fiercely, "Don't ever be sorry. It's. We're here Zayn, ok? We're. We're not gonna leave your side."
And Zayn could cry with the relief he feels at Louis's words but instead he grips Harry's hand tighter, smiles a strained smile.
"Zayn," Harry speaks up timidly after a moment, "Management called. They. They want to speak with you."
Finally, Zayn breaks eye contact with Liam, turning to Harry who's holding out a phone for him. His stomach turns.
"We can stay, if you like," he whispers but Zayn's already shaking his head.
"No, I - Please," Zayn can't. He's fucking terrified of what management's gonna say and he doesn't want them to know, can't let them see.
They nod and Niall turns Liam gently, leads them out of the room and Zayn doesn't move until the door's been closed quietly behind them and then he clambers into his bunk and with shaky fingers, dials Management.
"Hello?" the girl's voice is young and soft and kind and Zayn can already feel tears prickling at the back of his eyelids.
"Hi," he whispers. "It's. This is Zayn."
"Oh," she breathes out and Zayn closes his eyes, wraps a tight fist in the blankets, tries to maintain some semblance of control. "You've. You've had a long night, so I'll keep this brief, okay? I've been told to instruct you not to speak to anyone, not to call anyone, not to leave the bus. You're not to use any social media platforms or talk to any reporters. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Zayn responds hoarsely.
"Have you made any calls tonight other than to your four bandmates?"
"Just - just Perrie."
"Okay, well, don't call her again, Zayn, okay?"
"Okay," he mumbles.
"Did you get a name off the boy?"
"I - no," Zayn says.
"Any description that you think might be helpful?" she prompts.
"He was. He lived nearby the club? And he. He spoke English," Zayn adds, realizing that was probably significant in Barcelona.
"Okay," she says, "Thanks for your help Zayn. And did you have. Did your family know?" she asks him softly, and Zayn feels the blood drain from his face. He shudders. Fuck.
"No, no they didn't, I - "
She waits patiently for a moment and when he doesn't continue, she does.
"Did you have a message you'd like for us to pass on to them? Before they hear it from the media?"
"No," Zayn whispers, "No, please. Don't - Don't tell them anything. They. They don't follow our news, I've told them not to. They won't hear about it. They can't. Please," he begs her.
"Zayn," she says, and her voice is impossibly gentle, "This is. I'm sorry Zayn, this is huge. It's going to. It's going to blow up and, they'll have to be instructed not to say anything to the press, to try and make sure your friends don't say anything either and, oh god, I'm so sorry, Zayn. They're going to hear about it."
Zayn can feel tears running down his face but he does nothing to stop them, just listens in horror as the truth sinks in. This time tomorrow his entire family, his entire world is going to find out the truth about him. Is going to find out that he's a gay, that he's a cheater, that he. He chokes back a sob, tries to force the thoughts away but they crawl back in undeterred.
His father is going to kill him. He's going to. He's going to disown him, not let him back into the house. He'll never speak to him again. Fuck. He's fucked.
"Is that all?" he manages, voice choked with tears.
"Yes, it is. I'm so sorry Zayn," she says.
He hangs up without another word, curling in on himself and biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from sobbing. He's. It's fine. He's going to be fine.
He hears the rest of the boys filter in eventually, closing his eyes and evening out his breathing so they'll think he's asleep, hands clutched tightly in his duvet.
Sleep doesn't come though and Zayn is forced to lay in bed with his thoughts. It's funny. Things that are supposed to be life changing feel sometimes like they hardly change anything at all. For all their fame he still feels ordinary. For all they've travelled, he'll only call his mum's house home.
For all that has happened today -
For all that has happened today, he still wants what he always wants. To be able to curl up with Liam in his own bed, watch movies until they fall asleep, wake up sweaty and warm and safe like they always do. He thinks back with a sick feeling to the words Liam threw at him, wonders if Liam's still angry at him, if he's still hurt by what Zayn did -
When he can stand it no longer he gets quietly out of bed, selfishness driving him to Liam's bunk. It's empty, though, still made up, and Zayn furrows his brow, runs a hand over his cold sheets, and then follows the fraction of light to the lounge.
Liam's there, curled up on the couch with a pillow in his lap, eyes open and staring listlessly into space.
"Li -?" he asks, clearing his throat against the roughness. Liam jumps slightly.
"Zayn, fuck. What're you - . I mean. Shit. I can go, if you want?" He makes to get up but Zayn shakes his head.
"No, don't, I was. Was looking for you," he confesses, "Couldn't sleep."
Liam stares up at him for a moment before nodding hesitantly, shifting slightly to make room for him on the couch. Zayn sits, making a conscious decision to keep a space between them and. It feels fucking weird. He looks up to find Liam's watching him with a pained expression and Zayn knows he feels it too.
"Zayn - " Liam breathes out and his voice is low and pleading and for some inexplicable reason Zayn thinks about all the different ways Liam can say his name, through laughter and tears and with warmth and anger and each time, it chips away at Zayn, until Zayn is only brittle bones and blood that spills hot for him.
He tugs Liam to him with a mumbled come here and an unsaid where you belong and Liam fists a hand in his thin tee, holds on tight.
He's trembling. He's trembling in Zayn's arms and Zayn feels a rush of fear.
"Li? Liam what's wrong?" but Liam just shakes his head. "Please tell me what's wrong," he whispers. "If this is about - I'm fine, Liam. I'm okay. It's going to be okay - "
"It's not," Liam says brokenly, "it's not okay. It's. I was a coward today, and I let you take the fall for me Zayn and I never should have let you do that and you're going to hate me when this is all over - "
"I could never," Zayn breathes out but Liam ignores him.
"You're going to hate me for all the shit I'll have put you through and I can't - " his voice breaks around a sob, "I can't have you hating me, Zayn. I can't. I couldn't do a single day without you I'd -"
"Shut up," Zayn says fiercely, and Liam falls silent abruptly, looking up at him with wide eyes, "I'm not going anywhere, Liam, I promise you. Whatever this is, whatever it's going to turn into, I can handle it, okay? I promise. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I promise you, okay?"
"I'm so sorry, Zayn - " but Zayn shakes his head, presses his face into Liam's hair to breathe him in and he feels Liam's grip tighten almost desperately and it's only like this can he finally find sleep, tucked away in the rise of Liam's chest and the flutter of his eyelids closed and the lines of his brow smoothing out.
--
He loses half a million followers overnight.
--
It's disgusting how many hours he spends holed up, reading through his mentions. Every time he looks there's a new reason to hate him. Assholes hate him for being gay, Little Mixers hate him for cheating on Perrie, Muslims hate him for losing Allah, even the lgbtq community picks on him for lying about himself and breaking someone else's heart in the process. Celebrities say I told you so, nasty articles show up in The Sun and on Sugarscape, and he even gets a fair amount of death threats.
And through it all, he keeps his newest mantra going, wraps his emotions tightly around him, makes himself small that he can't feel anything but a blank buzzing, has only enough energy to manage a tight-lipped smile and a forced cheer.
Liam needs him to be strong, so he'll be strong.
Or he'll bloody well try.
And maybe it's because he's gotten damn good at pretend, or maybe it's because no one can quite look him in the eye, but it seems to pass, for awhile.
--
Niall and Liam stumble in when Zayn's scrolling through tumblr, unconsciously comparing the amount of hate to the amount of support. It's a losing battle.
They approach slowly but Zayn sends them a disarming smile.
"It's great isn't it? How many people are thanking me for coming out? Feel like a role model," he says, the strain in his voice only slightly audible. Liam and Niall look at him nervously, but Zayn shuts his laptop with a snap, pulls Niall down for a cuddle.
"What's for lunch," he asks, and over Niall's shoulder he can see a small amount of tension leave Liam's body and he sighs in satisfaction.
--
It's Louis that notices the tremor in his hands. He can't go outside to smoke because outside there are fans with signs of hate and disgust and anger painted on them and Zayn just doesn't know how to deal with that so he sits inside and deals with the withdrawal instead.
"Alright?" Louis asks him, and his gaze is calculating and Zayn feels naked underneath it. He clenches his hands into fists to stop the shaking.
"Yeah," he croaks out.
"You need a cigarette," Louis says when it dawns on him, eyes widening. "Zayn, go, it's alright. You've got it down to a manageable level, we're all so proud of you just. Smoke one. Take it slow - "
"I can't," Zayn mutters, tips of his ears turning red, "Management'll probably go berserk with the photos that show up on the internet and I don't think I can afford to piss them off anymore," he lies. Because he doesn't give a shit about management, honestly, but the thought of going out there, listening to fans scream horrible things at him, is something he's not sure he'll be able to handle.
"I'll go with you," Louis says, softening, and Zayn wonders how much he sees through the lie, "C'mon."
Zayn sighs. The offer's too temping to refuse -
"Fine, but you've got to promise you won't say anything or do anything, no matter what. Promise?"
Louis eyes him curiously, but nods.
"Promise."
When they step outside there's an immediate buzz of activity. Posters go up, people stomp their feet and Zayn swears he hears an actual growl permeate the crowd.
He lights his cigarette. Inhales.
"We don't want the cheater we want the true members of one direction," someone snarls, and Louis's hands clench into fists. He's gone pale and dangerous looking and Zayn kicks at him.
"Not a word," he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
"I love you Zayn Malik," someone else shouts, and there's a loud booing noise that follows.
"Anyone who's a fan of Zayn doesn't deserve to live," someone answers nastily. Louis's eyes narrow.
"Lou," Zayn mumbles, "Lou, c'mon, you promised."
"They're wankers," Louis mutters, "All of them, I swear to god - "
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn says, putting out his half smoked cig and grabbing Louis' elbow. "Back on the bus."
"What the fuck," Louis growls when they're back safely within the confines of the bus, "Zayn, fuckssake - "
"What's up?" Liam interrupts, studying Zayn.
Zayn shrugs, throws Liam a smile.
"Nothing. C'mon, Lou, relax. It's a good thing. Means people are loyally in support of Little Mix. Means our dating's done its job, yeah?"
He looks away from their dumbfounded faces.
"Gonna shower," he says finally, "Heat's gross."
Only under the spray does he allow himself to pound the wall in frustration, feel the pain like a weight in his belly.
--
"Have you talked to him yet?" Harry asks, urgent and hushed. They're assuming he's asleep, which, before this was probably true, but now he's hardly slept since that night with Liam on the couch so -
"Not really, I - "
"Liam," Louis scolds and Zayn bites his lip, keeps his eyes closed.
"He's fine - "
"Listen, if you want one of us to do it, that's fine," Niall says gently, "We can - "
"He's fine, Niall," Liam insists defiantly, "He's. He says he's handling it. If he wasn't, he'd tell me."
"Alright," and Zayn can almost picture the way Louis holds up his hands in concession, "Alright, we trust you Li, you know him best."
"No he doesn't," Harry mutters, and then he cries out in pain, "Ow Lou, what was that for - "
"What's that supposed to mean?" Liam asks him and there's an edge to his voice, and Zayn swallows, tries to keep his breathing even.
"Nothing," Harry mutters darkly.
"Haz - " Louis warns.
"Nothing Liam," Harry says again, making a solid attempt to be slightly less of an arse this time, "S'just, you know. You've been a bit carried away with your different boy a night thing, yeah? So - "
"So nothing," Liam says frostily, "He's still - "
"Your favorite, yeah we know," Niall says warmly and he's attempting to diffuse the tension and they let him, and Zayn lets out a quiet breath of relief.
--
He's in the bathroom when he gets the call. He's examining his face in the mirror, pressing fingers against the bags under his eyes and the hollows in his cheekbones when his phone blasts out an old Bollywood tune. His heart sinks.
It's his sister, when he answers, and she's whispering.
"Zayn, s'me, Doniya," she starts.
"Hey," he manages, "Everything alright?"
"No Zee," she says hurriedly, "Baba's furious. You've got to -. Fuck he's going to call you okay? I just wanted to warn you but - "
"I'm sorry," Zayn mumbles against the fear that's holding his lungs hostage, "Doniya I - "
"Don't. Don't apologize yeah? It's alright. I mean. It's not, but. You're. You're alright. Okay?"
He clutches his phone tightly, desperately.
"Thanks," he croaks out.
"Yeah," she says again, and they've never been good at telling each other how they feel, the two of them, but Zayn feels a flood of hot relief regardless. "Danny and Ant are here," she says suddenly, "Trying to calm him down."
Zayn swallows. He hasn't talked to either of them, but he's sure they've always known. They've have teased him about Liam as well. Carefully, kindly, as if testing the waters, trying to get a feel for Zayn's true feelings. He's grateful for them, he always is. But tonight, especially so.
"I've got to go, Zayn. Just. Be ready," she hangs up and Zayn takes a deep breath, sinks slowly to the bathroom floor.
He's been spending a lot of time on bathroom floors, he realizes.
--
He doesn't cry when it's all over. He doesn't do anything. Just sits there for what feels like hours, the echo of You are not allowed back into this house, you are never to speak to this family again, you keep your filthiness away from this God loving household on a loop, loud and angry behind his eyes.
Eventually he gets up, marches out with a smile plastered on his face. He shrugs at the silent question Liam's throwing him.
"Sorry, Doniya called. Wanted to tell me how proud she was for coming out."
"Oh that's brilliant, Zayn, good on you," Niall grins happily at him and Zayn carefully ignores the skeptical look Harry's shooting his way in favor of smiling back at Niall. Liam comes and swings an arm around him and Zayn leans into it.
"Proud of you," Liam mumbles and Zayn flushes slightly.
"Thanks. Feels good," he lies through his teeth, looking up at the other boy.
--
The most frustrating thing about it is that he doesn't even know what sets him off. One moment he's scrolling through the headlines of The Times (perspective, it helps a bit) and the next moment his body's betraying him. A wave of exhaustion overtakes him so fast he almost chokes on the first sob, doesn't realizes he's trembling until he sees his phone shaking in his hands. He curls up, retreats into himself and lets the tears fall, muffles his cries into his elbow.
"Zayn?" comes Harry's whisper and fuck but he can't get the shaking under control, "Zayn, fuck, it's alright babe, c'mon."
He shuts the bedroom door carefully behind him and joins Zayn in bed, pulling Zayn's pliant body into him.
"You don't have to - " Zayn tries, swiping impatiently at tears that won't stop, but Harry interrupts him.
"Shut up," he says fiercely, tugging him closer. "I want to you complete idiot. What happened?"
"Nothing - " Zayn chokes out, "Honest, I'm just. I'm just exhausted Haz, I just want to fucking disappear, I just want it to be over, Harry, please - "
"Shh," Harry says quietly, kissing Zayn's temple, "I'm so sorry Zayn. If I could do anything, I would. Tell me what to do, I'll do it in a heartbeat."
And Zayn tries to compose himself but his body's had enough of restraint.
"Bloody hell, what's happened?" comes Niall's voice from the doorway and through his tears he can see Niall's gone pale and he clutches the door with white hands.
"Get Liam," Harry orders.
"No, Haz, don't," Zayn begs, but it's futile.
"Do it, Niall," when the door shuts again Harry turns back to Zayn, "I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do here but, this has got to stop. Enough yeah? We're your brothers, Zayn. We made promises to each other. You promised us you'd always be honest with us."
"It's not like that Haz, you don't understand - " but then the door's opening and Zayn clenches his eyes shut against the stricken look on Liam's face.
"What happened?" he asks faintly.
"Nothing happened," Harry bites out, "He's just fucking exhausted because he thinks he has to deal with this shit on his own like a fucking martyr."
"Zayn," Liam whispers, and he looks heartbroken, "C'mon Zayn, you know that's not true. I thought you trusted me. Thought we told each other everything."
"I'm sorry," Zayn chokes out, clutching at Harry, "I just. I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to think I wasn't strong enough - "
"I fucking knew it," Harry snaps, "What the fuck did you say to him Liam?"
"Harry," Niall warns.
"I didn't - " Liam starts but Zayn stands, wiping away his tears determinedly.
"It's not your fault," Zayn tells him softly, "It's not, okay Haz? So just - "
"The fuck it's not his fault, Zayn! All of this is his fault," Harry snarls. He stands too, points a finger at Liam who seems to grow behind it defensively, "Fucking starting with him sleeping his way through this tour. Jesus - "
"Fuck off," Liam mutters darkly, "It's none of your fucking business, Styles."
"None of my business?" Harry starts, voice getting steadily louder, "None of my business? Everything any of you lot does is my fucking business. We share this fucking business, or don't you remember? And what right do you have to act like a fucking teenager while the rest of us have to listen to orders? Why do you get to slag around while we get told what we can and can't do?"
"Hey," Niall says softly, bravely putting an arm around Harry, "C'mon Haz, s'alright," he soothes.
"It's not," Harry says brokenly, sinking into Niall's touch, "No it's not, Niall. Fuck. It's not fair. I just. How come I have to go out on all these bloody dates and Zayn has to be called a cheater in a fake relationship and Liam gets to sleep with as many men as he wants? It's just. It's not fair. I never even got to - "
Zayn stares at him with wide eyes and breath caught in his throat. He's not mad at Liam, Zayn realizes with a heavy heart, he's just mad. Constrained and tied down so that the rope cuts into his wrists and he's too tired to fight back and too enraged to give in and so he's. Caught. Just like Zayn.
He opens his mouth but Louis' already there, coming in from the doorway to wrap arms around Harry, and today for some reason he manages to envelope the younger boy, hold him tight.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Liam mumbles softly, but Harry shakes his head.
"Me too," he responds despondently, voice muffled into Louis' shoulder, "Shouldn't have - "
"S'okay," Liam cuts him off firmly, "Deserved it."
Harry pulls away from Louis finally, eyes wet with unshed tears.
"No you didn't. I am sorry. I'm just - "
"Exhausted," Zayn offers quietly, and Harry shoots him a pained smile.
"I was gonna say mental, but - " Niall jokes cautiously and Harry rolls his eyes at him, but his smile grows and the tears don't fall so.
"Just sort this, yeah Li?" Harry says, gesturing at Zayn and Zayn raises an eyebrow at him indignantly, "He's your favorite so he's your responsibility."
Liam laughs weakly, eyes never leaving Harry's.
"He's a right state without you," Louis muses, "Trying to handle things alone," he clucks his tongue.
"Mental," Niall agrees.
"Oi. M'still here," Zayn protests. The boys turn to look at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm fine - " he starts.
"Shut up," they chorus and Zayn shakes his head, looks at Liam who's looking back at him, hesitant and curious.
"Give us a minute, yeah?" Liam asks quietly, and the rest of the boys nod silently, shooting them both reassuring looks before filing out one by one.
"We don't have to do this right now," or ever, he adds silently, staring at Liam, waiting for him to make his move. Liam just shakes his head, takes a step closer.
"Tell me what you need," he demands, another step closer, "Tell me how I can help," he takes one more step, and now Zayn can see early hints of stubble.
"I'm fine," he says, trying to sound more defiant than dazed.
"For chrissake, Zayn. When I said I was afraid that you'd hate me, I didn't mean that you wouldn't be strong enough to handle it. You don't have to be strong for this. It's fucked up, the whole thing. It's a fucked up world and sometimes we're not strong enough to deal with it and that's why it's me and you. Okay? That's what me and you means. Means I get to be there for you through everything," he pauses, looking suddenly miserable, "It also, generally means that I don't get you into shit like this to begin with but," he smiles self-deprecatingly, "I'm fucked up too. So - "
"Liam - " Zayn shakes his head but Liam recognizes the way his willpower is weakening, comes even closer to rest a hand on his hip.
"Tell me what you need," Liam repeats, eyes searching Zayn's relentlessly, "Tell me how I can make this better."
And Zayn gives in, easy.
"Haven't really slept properly since that last night on the couch," he confesses, biting his lip after, waiting for Liam's reaction.
Liam just shakes his head.
"You're a complete arse and sometimes I don't know what to do with you," Liam says, mostly fond, but there's frustration heavy under his words, "You could have just said - "
"I didn't want you to worry," Zayn defends meekly.
"I just. I don't understand you. I turned your life into a complete shit overnight because I wanted to get laid and I was too much of a coward to fess up about it and still you're the one that's got to protect me? Why?"
Zayn shrugs, ducks his head.
"You're my favorite," he jokes, deflects. Liam steeples their foreheads together.
"Zayn," he pouts childishly, trying to hold back a laugh at their old joke. He looks ridiculous and Zayn laughs despite himself, desperate to turn this light again.
"Liam," Zayn shoots back, grinning at him. "C'mon then. You gonna take me to bed or not?" he asks slowly, eyebrows raised teasingly.
Liam's eyes widen in absolute shock, and then he blushes a brilliant shade of red.
"Fucking hell, you did that on purpose," Liam grumbles, "Take you to bed," he repeats disbelievingly, "I'll fucking show you how I'd take you to bed," he scoops Zayn up and throws him over his shoulder as easy a sack of potatoes and Zayn shrieks his laughter.
"Oh my god, Li put me down!"
Liam twirls him about a bit, the two of them laughing breathless and giddy, before he finally dumps him roughly on the bed. And then their eyes meet and there's an electricity in Liam's that kills Zayn's laughter in his throat, body going almost embarrassingly pliant under Liam's hands.
Liam ducks his head and clears his throat.
"Sleep?" he asks, and he's gone quiet suddenly, avoids eye contact, "You want me to stay, right?"
Zayn nods, watches confusedly as Liam fumbles with his sneakers, toeing them off clumsily and stumbling into bed.
"Comfortable?" Liam asks when they've settled against each other, but Zayn decides he doesn't like the way Liam looks so serious so he puts a firm hand on Liam's hip, turns him so they're lying on their sides facing each other.
"Lee-yum," Zayn wheedles, adopting his old accent from their x-factor days. "Vas happenin?'" he asks gently.
Liam shakes his head, writhing away from Zayn's tickling fingers. His eyes are closed and a faint reluctant smile teases his features and Zayn's greedy for more.
"C'mon," he nudges, "Could do this all night - " his fingers search for Liam's most ticklish spots and Liam gasps out a laugh, reaching down to still his hand.
"S'nothing," he insists, shy, "Silly."
"Tell me," Zayn demands. Liam opens his eyes, fixes Zayn with an amused stare.
"S'just. You make me so happy, you know?" there's color in his cheeks and Zayn fucking aches to feel the heat there, "Wish you felt the same way."
Zayn can only shake his head in disbelief, will his organs to cooperate, because Liam is absolutely the most daft person on this planet. He's in love with an actual idiot.
"Sap," he teases, seeking refuge in old patterns easily enough, steepling their foreheads together. From here he can count Liam's eyelashes, pale in the moonlight that seeps through Zayn's window. They frame earnest brown eyes and Zayn wants to answer them with kisses pressed to translucent eyelids, "I do, Li, promise," he says instead.
Liam smiles back softly, nudges his nose against Zayn's, and Zayn closes his eyes against the intimacy of the gesture, breathes out.
"Tired?" Liam asks him gently, and Zayn nuzzles closer into him, presses them together chest to chest and hides his face in Liam's neck to disguise his choked up voice.
"Yeah," he nods against Liam's skin, "Glad you're here."
Liam presses a kiss to the top of his head, slings an arm along his waist.
"M'always here, you donut."
And it's still not enough and Zayn has never hated himself more for not making it be.
--
"Nervous?" Niall asks, tugging one of Zayn's hands out from where they wrap around each other in his lap and lacing his fingers through it. Zayn wants to tell him no, he's fine, but Niall will call his bluff, hold his sweaty palms up as evidence.
Instead he just nods tightly, and Niall squeezes his fingers.
"They're gonna vet all the questions. You won't get one you won't be able to answer," Niall soothes and Zayn relaxes a fraction, squeezes back.
His phone rings a second later and he tuns it on one handedly so he doesn't have to let go.
It's from Perrie and he relaxes a fraction further.
good luck today babes you've got this. just rmr its pretend ok? an ACT. i know its not true u know it's not true the boys know it's not true. we're all that matters yeah? we're here.
They're ushered upstairs and backstage as soon as they get in. It's a ritzy place so it must be an important interview, Zayn's not sure, he had gone completely numb as soon as he'd heard they were to give a live interview so soon after the scandal, let him give his statement. Zayn had wanted to argue that they've never made him speak out against any other accusations of cheating, but then again, none of them had any truth to them or HQ pictures to tag along. He sighs heavily.
They're placed two to a dressing room. Harry's paired with Zayn but Zayn sees Liam whisper something to him and Harry smile and nod back and then Liam's heading to him, squeezing the back of his neck lightly.
"C'mon, you're with me Malik," he says brightly. Steady and composed he wraps a reassuring hand around Zayn's shoulders, leads him inside.
When he's shut the door behind them he embraces Zayn tightly,
"You're gonna be great," he says gently, and he sounds so sure and Zayn nods gratefully against him. "Gonna help you, yeah? We all will. You're not alone, babe, promise."
And Lou will kill him if he cries and he'll cry if he speaks so he just stays silent, soaks in Liam's soothing presence. Liam pulls back, keeps his hands fisted in the material along Zayn's hips.
"And if you ever stumble," Liam continues reasonably, "Just make that face at the camera," he pouts his lips, narrows his eyes in a way that makes him look completely ridiculous, "Then no one will be able to pay attention to what you say - "
"Hey," Zayn laughs despite himself, tries to be indignant, "You trying to say I'm nothing but a pretty face?"
"Well you do have a pretty face," Liam teases back, tightens his grip along Zayn's hips. "You ready?"
--
The thing about doing an interview, is that they could probably do it in their sleep. And it's not because it's easy, exactly. An interview with five teenage boys should be a disaster, constant interruptions and petty fights and goofing off - and they do do that sometimes, but only on purpose. If they have to, they can be in perfect sync. It's not anything physical, Zayn thinks idly, not really. S'nothing you can catch on film or freeze on camera. It's just, sitting between them, Zayn can feel Niall's heart rate through the point where their sneakers touch, can tell the rhythm Harry breathes at where his hand lies on his knee, can pick up on the tension of Louis' muscles when he catches his eye, smiles. And regardless of what their PR team wants to sell, it wasn't natural, they didn't just fall into it. They built this, the connections between them, the security, the trust. Worked at it for days and months and years.
Starting with that silly little question game in the bungalow.
Zayn sighs.
"So, we're here with One Direction, boy band sensation. Boys, this is a bit of an interesting interview, isn't it? First interview since your names were in the news for something other than record breaking album sales, isn't it? Zayn, what can you tell us about that?"
Louis' muscles tense. Zayn swallows.
"Um. Got photographed leaving a club," he mumbles.
"That's right," the interviewer continues enthusiastically. He's leaning forward on the edge of his seat, expression eager. "We've got the picture here, haven't we - "
It's pulled up onto the screen in front of them, the picture of him pressing himself up into a complete stranger, and Zayn flinches away from it. Beside him he can feel Liam stiffen.
"Did you know the young man beforehand?" he asks him. Zayn shakes his head.
"No, we'd just met at the club. Made some poor decisions that night," he says, tries to stay light, "Learned my lessons though, I promise," he says, putting on his best smile. Pretend, he thinks, slipping back into the old rhythm of press. He can do this.
"Right," the interviewer says, a bit disdainfully, and Zayn feels Harry's breathing begin to strain, feels some of his confidence ebb, wonders if by some sick twist of faith their interviewer has been cheated on in the past or something. "And what does your girl friend think about these lessons?"
"Er, we're working through it," he stammers, "She's. It's a bit complicated? Life on the road, innit? So we're trying to work it out. She's amazing, brilliant really, really chilled out so - "
"Well, I'm afraid I can't understand where she's coming from," the interviewer interrupts loftily, "Don't really see how you're worthy of her forgiveness."
"Shut up," Liam bites out and Niall's heart rate jumps and Zayn's stomach does somersaults but he can only stare at Liam who's hands are clenched in fists and who's eyes stare daggers into the interviewer, "Don't you dare talk to him like that."
"Liam - " Harry warns carefully, like Liam's gone completely mental, which. Liam's never even come close to losing it in public. Zayn's seen him angry before, but never in front of the cameras -
"Don't," LIam snaps back, and there's a collective, silent intake of breath, "Don't tell me to - he has no right to say that shit - "
"Ah, yes, this is interesting," the interviewer turns his attention to Liam, clearly delighted by the turn of events, "Do you really think he deserves your defense? Or is this all just an act - "
"You bastard," Liam snarls, makes an actual lunge for the man, and Zayn is immobile with shock but Niall and Harry are ready for it, catch his arms, force him back.
"Liam," Niall cries, "Liam relax - "
"He's ten times the man you'll ever be," Liam growls out, "So you can just shut the fuck up you miserable - "
The producers and camera crew have gone berserk around them, people waving their hands wildly, rushing to salvage the situation. Cameras are being shut off and they're being ushered quickly off the stage, but Zayn remains in a daze, blinded by the hot lights.
"Fucking hell, Paul, you said they were gonna vet the questions, what the fuck was that?" Liam's shouting, Harry and Niall still firmly attached to his shoulders. Paul opens his mouth helplessly but Louis gets in between them with a hand on Liam's chest.
"Take a fucking breath, c'mon Li," he fists a hand in Liam's shirt, tugs him roughly into the nearest green room. Niall and Harry have started talking in hushed voices to Paul and Zayn finally notices the way people have drawn together with worried looks on their faces and fuck, Liam's gonna be in so much trouble, the tosser has actual shit for brains.
Before he can even understand what he's doing he's rushing off to the dressing room.
"What the fuck Liam," he bites out, slamming the door shut and storming up to point a finger to Liam's chest. Louis clears his throat, lets his hands drop from where they'd rested on Liam's shoulders.
"Gonna give you two a moment, yeah," he mumbles, edging out of the room quickly and pulling the door shut behind him. Zayn barely acknowledges it.
"Jesus christ Liam, have lost your mind? Pulling a stunt like that, I can't fucking believe you. You're going to be fucked by management, I swear to god what were you thinking?"
And suddenly Liam's yanking him forward, pressing his lips to Zayn's. Zayn remains stiff with absolute shock, body too used to restraint when it comes to Liam, instinctively wary.
Liam pulls himself away jerkily.
"Wasn't. Wasn't thinking," he chokes out, his hands falling into fists at his side. He's not looking at Zayn and he looks wretched, "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Zayn. I wasn't thinking, I was never thinking I -. I tried, I swear to god, I tried not to, I tried to stop but you're. You're you and you make it so bloody difficult and, god Zayn, please, I'm sorry I - "
"Liam," Zayn interrupts desperately, "Liam. I need you to. Fuck, I need you to use full sentences yeah, cause I'm - "
Liam looks up at him confusedly, brow furrowed, bottom lip between his teeth as he studies him and Zayn can almost see the moment it dawns on him, the way his eyes widen in shock.
"Zayn," he says with quiet wonderment, taking a step closer, "You - " he trails off, runs his thumb along Zayn's bottom lip. Zayn trembles helplessly against the caress, shuts his eyes.
"Li," he begs, "PleaseI can't- "
"It's okay Zayn. It's going to be okay," Liam murmurs gently, "I love you," he says, "M'in love with you - "
And Zayn is darting forward to kiss him, a whimper caught between them as they press close to each other, and Zayn would think he was dreaming except for the solid weight of Liam's body against his, the strength of his hands around his waist, the little sighs he keeps making against his lips.
They only pull back when they have to breathe, and still Liam's pressing kisses into his cheek and jaw and the middle of his forehead. Zayn laughs breathlessly.
"I thought - you never said - "
Liam pulls back, shakes his head with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
"I tried, you complete dolt," he chides softly, "Tried to tell you all the time, as many ways I could but you - you kept putting distance between us so I thought you must not be interested."
"Self-preservation," Zayn says meekly. Liam raises an eyebrow at him, "Just. You've always been. Unattainable. And then you weren't and I just. Didn't know how to - "
"Oh," Liam breathes, eyes widening at Zayn's confession. He leans in to kiss him once more, but Zayn pulls back. Damned self-preservation.
"You're. You're sure, right Li? I mean. Fuck, I'm sorry. I just. I couldn't. If you weren't - "
"Zayn," Liam tugs him closer with arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss into his neck. Zayn shivers, eyes fluttering closed, "I've been trying to get you out of my system for ages. And it hasn't - It's like, It's always been me and you right? I can't do a single day without s'just," he steeples their foreheads together, looks Zayn straight in the eye, "Took me a while to figure out that meant I couldn't do a single day without wanting to kiss you."
Zayn blushes, half waits for Liam to come out and say he's joking, having a bit of a laugh, but Liam just noses at him, lets the phantom of a kiss linger between them. Zayn draws a shaky breath.
"Sap," he manages finally, dry-mouthed. Liam giggles.
"Gonna give me your letterman jacket now?" he asks teasingly.
"S'all I've ever wanted to do," Zayn tells him seriously, and it's Liam's turn to blush, duck his head shyly.
"I love you," he tells him again.
Zayn can only nod shakily, offer Liam a weak smile.
"I just. I can't believe - "
"I know," Liam smiles gently at him, "Try? I'll help you." His smile's turning cheeky and Zayn frowns questioningly at him, but then Liam's capturing his lips in a kiss, slow and chaste this time, like he's waiting for Zayn to catch up, and if there's one thing Zayn's not, it's a slow learner, so he reaches up to cup Liam's face, change the angle, deepen the kiss.
"Helping?" Liam gasps into his mouth as Zayn nibbles on his lower lip.
Zayn smiles into the kiss.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "Shh," he scolds playfully, groaning when Liam tightens his hold around Zayn's waist, aligns their hips -
"Oi, thought you two would have learned your lesson by now."
They break apart instantly, but Zayn's apology dies in his throat when he turns to see his bandmates smiling at him, almost giddy with happiness. Harry's hiding his grin into Niall's hair and Niall's trying to scold Louis but Louis's clutching his belly with laughter, eyes bright.
"Shove it, Lou, nearly gave them a heart attack," Niall's saying without any bite.
The five of them just look at each other for a moment, and then Louis' giving them a small nod, and so Liam takes Zayn's hand, thumbs across his knuckles lightly. Zayn tries to ignore the way his pulse jumps.
"We're really happy for you," Harry says then.
"And not really surprised in the least," Louis tells them, grinning.
"Does this mean Li's not gonna lose his marbles on national TV again?" Niall remarks casually and Liam winces.
"Sorry about that - " he mumbles, "M'a twat, aren't I?"
"Nah," Louis waves a hand, "You were defending Zayn's honor - "
"Oi," Zayn calls out because he's still got some dignity left, damnit. But Liam's grinning wild and fond, leaning over to plant a kiss to the side of his head, so. That's alright, then. Dignity's probably overrated anyway.
"Anyway," Harry continues, "We were out of our minds too, he was a complete shit."
"Yeah, totally out of line, Zayn," Niall agrees.
"S'okay," Zayn says, smiling weakly.
"Management's gonna have your head though, you ready for this?" Harry asks Liam softly and Zayn watches the weight of exchange between them. Liam nods.
"Bout time I pulled my weight," he says lightly. Harry nods back and Zayn squeezes his hand back, warm and solid.
--
"Oii, Liam, you've got the chain on," Zayn calls, trying to peek through the cracked open door. He hears footsteps, then the door closes and the chain unlocks and it's Liam's face appearing the doorframe.
"Hi," he says a bit breathlessly, "You're a bit early - "
Zayn shrugs, offers Liam a bright smile, and then stops abruptly when his eyes focus on the room behind him, "Liam," he breathes out, "What. What is all this?"
There are candles everywhere, small ones and big ones, flames skipping and dancing in the small space and casting the entire room in a soft glow. Roses in a vase adorn the bedside table, and a champagne bottle and two glasses are in a tray on the bed and Zayn has to blink a few times, make sure it's all real.
"Just wanted to prove to you that I'm serious about this. Us," Liam says shyly, "Is it too much?"
Zayn turns to him with wide eyes.
"You did this. For me?" he asks hoarsely and Liam laughs. "It's. Fuck, Li. It's perfect."
"You're perfect," Liam grins back, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Zayn wrinkles his nose.
"Am I gonna have to deal with your cheese forever, then?" he asks, biting his lip when he realizes what he's just said. But Liam just takes a step closer, eyes darkening.
"I'd say so, yeah," he whispers and maybe he's saying other things too but Zayn's eyes have fallen to his lips and he has to swallow against the heat that jumps between them, reach up to tug at Liam's bottom lip with his teeth. Liam moans, cups Zayn's face and kisses him properly, licking into Zayn's mouth and twirling their tongues together.
"Should we. Fuck. Zayn. Should we take this slow?"
Zayn shakes his head.
That's an awful idea," he scolds, hands slipping under Liam's tee. Liam whimpers at the slide of Zayn's nails along his hipbones, breaking the kiss to pant against Zayn's neck, and Zayn takes advantage of the angle to nip at Liam's ear, lick soothingly at the bites. Liam's hips jerk forward and Zayn groans.
"Take this off," he demands, fisting a hand in Liam's shirt. Liam obeys, tugging it off one handedly and then yanking at Zayn's as well. They separate briefly, sharing twin moans with the new skin to skin contact. "Wanna suck you off," Zayn murmurs, low and hot and Liam shuts his eyes.
"Fucking hell. Bed?"
"No, right here," Zayn mumbles, sinking to his knees and reaching to unbutton LIam's jeans, "Can't wait a second longer."
Please is torn from Liam as Zayn presses kisses to his dick through his pants, mouthing at the cotton that's already stained with precome.
"So wet for me already," Zayn groans out, palming at his own dick through his trousers. Liam's got his head thrown back against the door but now he looks down, meets Zayn's hooded gaze.
"Fuck, fuck fuck, " he chants, "M'not gonna. Fuck. Not gonna last Zayn. Please," he begs. So Zayn untucks him gently, smirking slightly when Liam bucks his hips. He presses a kiss to the tip before he swallows him down slowly, pumping him with a hand around the base. He hollows his cheeks, savors the bitter taste of Liam on his tongue, heavy against his senses, driving him fucking crazy. He only gets a few good pulls in before Liam's tugging at his hair in warning, and Zayn decides instantly he's never liked his name better than when it's being bitten out by Liam on a groan, face screwed up beautifully as he comes.
He sinks to his knees almost instantly, batting Zayn's hand away and undoing his jeans. He leans Zayn back gently on the carpet, kisses him to share his taste, groaning when Zayn licks behind his teeth.
"Fucking love you," Liam mumbles, pulling lazily at Zayn's cock. "Next time, m'gonna do you. Can't wait to get my mouth around your cock - " and he doesn't tighten his grip but that's all Zayn needs to come, head thrown back on a moan as Liam milks him through it, whispering easy encouragement, kissing him on the come down.
"Fuck," Zayn whispers weakly, eying the mess he's made on his belly. Liam reaches idly for a shirt to clean him off. "You can wear that one," he tells Liam sleepily, "Don't care if you stretch it out."
Liam laughs, lays out to rest his head on Zayn's chest, fingers tracing the lines of Zayn's stomach.
"Gonna make you wear my clothes all the time," Liam says, "Can't wait to see you in one of my cut offs."
"M'naked and you're thinking about me wearing clothes?" Zayn asks, trying to sound offended. Liam makes a valiant effort to kiss him, only manages to reach the corner of his mouth.
"For later. No one gets to see you like this but me, yeah?" and there's a question carefully disguised in that so Zayn answers it.
"Yours, Li," he says softly, and if there are tears in his eyes, he's gonna blame it on the post-orgasm haze.
"Mine," Liam agrees, infinitely more relaxed. "Do you wanna move up to the bed?" he asks after a beat.
"Don't want to go anywhere without you," Zayn slurs, heavy with sleep, and Liam laughs, tucks closer into his side.
"Idiot," Liam chides softly, "Sleepy idiot. S'me and you, yeah?"
"Me and you," Zayn agrees, mantra coming back to him even at the brink of sleep.
It was always his favorite, anyway.
When Zayn gets back to the tour bus his four boys are waiting for him, pale-faced and anxious.
"Where have you been - "
"Zayn - "
but Zayn ignores them, walks straight past them and into the bathroom. He slams the door shut and sinks to the floor, brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them and fuck, fuck, fuck, what did he do? He got papped kissing a boy. He got papped kissing a boy when he's supposed to be in a relationship with a girl and -
Oh fuck.
Perrie.
He reaches for his phone with trembling fingers, only barely manages to key in her number.
She answers almost instantly, though Zayn has no idea what time it is where she is.
"Perrie," is all he manages, voice cracking through his anguish.
"Zayn, hey, it's alright. It's. It's ok - "
"No, it's not. Pez, I - "
"It's ok," she says and she sounds a lot like she's trying really hard to be brave, "Liam called. He told me what happened."
Zayn lets her words sink, thanks god for Liam's foresight, thanks god for Liam, really.
"I'm so sorry, Perrie, I didn't know what else to do - "
"Oh babe, I know. We'll manage yeah? We'll fix this, whatever it is. We will."
"Throw me under the bus yeah? Call me a cheater. Don't. Don't let it fall back on you. Promise me."
"Zayn - "
"Promise me."
He hears her sigh.
"Promise," she whispers.
"I should go," he says, and he's scared, he realizes. Scared to face the others because - Fuck. This could ruin them, couldn't it?
"I love - " she starts, but he cuts her off.
"Don't," he says. "Just. Don't."
--
Liam's on his feet almost as soon as Zayn finally manages to make it out of the bathroom and his eyes lock on Zayn's, trapping him with an expression that Zayn can't read and he can't look away, can't form words, can't even breathe, and apparently neither can Liam, but it doesn't matter because the rest of the band is there suddenly, rushing in to fill in the blanks like they always do.
"Alright?" Harry asks him, taking Zayn's hand and interlacing their fingers. And Zayn can't look away from Liam but he squeezes Harry's hand back.
"I'm. I'm fine. I'll be fine," he says softly, and it's Niall this time who reaches out to Liam, reassures him with hands on his waist in a way that Zayn can't manage. Not yet. "I'm sorry," he croaks out.
"Zayn - " Liam whispers, and his voice is wrecked and he doesn't continue and Louis picks up where he leaves off, resting warm hands on their shoulders.
"Don't be sorry," he says fiercely, "Don't ever be sorry. It's. We're here Zayn, ok? We're. We're not gonna leave your side."
And Zayn could cry with the relief he feels at Louis's words but instead he grips Harry's hand tighter, smiles a strained smile.
"Zayn," Harry speaks up timidly after a moment, "Management called. They. They want to speak with you."
Finally, Zayn breaks eye contact with Liam, turning to Harry who's holding out a phone for him. His stomach turns.
"We can stay, if you like," he whispers but Zayn's already shaking his head.
"No, I - Please," Zayn can't. He's fucking terrified of what management's gonna say and he doesn't want them to know, can't let them see.
They nod and Niall turns Liam gently, leads them out of the room and Zayn doesn't move until the door's been closed quietly behind them and then he clambers into his bunk and with shaky fingers, dials Management.
"Hello?" the girl's voice is young and soft and kind and Zayn can already feel tears prickling at the back of his eyelids.
"Hi," he whispers. "It's. This is Zayn."
"Oh," she breathes out and Zayn closes his eyes, wraps a tight fist in the blankets, tries to maintain some semblance of control. "You've. You've had a long night, so I'll keep this brief, okay? I've been told to instruct you not to speak to anyone, not to call anyone, not to leave the bus. You're not to use any social media platforms or talk to any reporters. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Zayn responds hoarsely.
"Have you made any calls tonight other than to your four bandmates?"
"Just - just Perrie."
"Okay, well, don't call her again, Zayn, okay?"
"Okay," he mumbles.
"Did you get a name off the boy?"
"I - no," Zayn says.
"Any description that you think might be helpful?" she prompts.
"He was. He lived nearby the club? And he. He spoke English," Zayn adds, realizing that was probably significant in Barcelona.
"Okay," she says, "Thanks for your help Zayn. And did you have. Did your family know?" she asks him softly, and Zayn feels the blood drain from his face. He shudders. Fuck.
"No, no they didn't, I - "
She waits patiently for a moment and when he doesn't continue, she does.
"Did you have a message you'd like for us to pass on to them? Before they hear it from the media?"
"No," Zayn whispers, "No, please. Don't - Don't tell them anything. They. They don't follow our news, I've told them not to. They won't hear about it. They can't. Please," he begs her.
"Zayn," she says, and her voice is impossibly gentle, "This is. I'm sorry Zayn, this is huge. It's going to. It's going to blow up and, they'll have to be instructed not to say anything to the press, to try and make sure your friends don't say anything either and, oh god, I'm so sorry, Zayn. They're going to hear about it."
Zayn can feel tears running down his face but he does nothing to stop them, just listens in horror as the truth sinks in. This time tomorrow his entire family, his entire world is going to find out the truth about him. Is going to find out that he's a gay, that he's a cheater, that he. He chokes back a sob, tries to force the thoughts away but they crawl back in undeterred.
His father is going to kill him. He's going to. He's going to disown him, not let him back into the house. He'll never speak to him again. Fuck. He's fucked.
"Is that all?" he manages, voice choked with tears.
"Yes, it is. I'm so sorry Zayn," she says.
He hangs up without another word, curling in on himself and biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from sobbing. He's. It's fine. He's going to be fine.
He hears the rest of the boys filter in eventually, closing his eyes and evening out his breathing so they'll think he's asleep, hands clutched tightly in his duvet.
Sleep doesn't come though and Zayn is forced to lay in bed with his thoughts. It's funny. Things that are supposed to be life changing feel sometimes like they hardly change anything at all. For all their fame he still feels ordinary. For all they've travelled, he'll only call his mum's house home.
For all that has happened today -
For all that has happened today, he still wants what he always wants. To be able to curl up with Liam in his own bed, watch movies until they fall asleep, wake up sweaty and warm and safe like they always do. He thinks back with a sick feeling to the words Liam threw at him, wonders if Liam's still angry at him, if he's still hurt by what Zayn did -
When he can stand it no longer he gets quietly out of bed, selfishness driving him to Liam's bunk. It's empty, though, still made up, and Zayn furrows his brow, runs a hand over his cold sheets, and then follows the fraction of light to the lounge.
Liam's there, curled up on the couch with a pillow in his lap, eyes open and staring listlessly into space.
"Li -?" he asks, clearing his throat against the roughness. Liam jumps slightly.
"Zayn, fuck. What're you - . I mean. Shit. I can go, if you want?" He makes to get up but Zayn shakes his head.
"No, don't, I was. Was looking for you," he confesses, "Couldn't sleep."
Liam stares up at him for a moment before nodding hesitantly, shifting slightly to make room for him on the couch. Zayn sits, making a conscious decision to keep a space between them and. It feels fucking weird. He looks up to find Liam's watching him with a pained expression and Zayn knows he feels it too.
"Zayn - " Liam breathes out and his voice is low and pleading and for some inexplicable reason Zayn thinks about all the different ways Liam can say his name, through laughter and tears and with warmth and anger and each time, it chips away at Zayn, until Zayn is only brittle bones and blood that spills hot for him.
He tugs Liam to him with a mumbled come here and an unsaid where you belong and Liam fists a hand in his thin tee, holds on tight.
He's trembling. He's trembling in Zayn's arms and Zayn feels a rush of fear.
"Li? Liam what's wrong?" but Liam just shakes his head. "Please tell me what's wrong," he whispers. "If this is about - I'm fine, Liam. I'm okay. It's going to be okay - "
"It's not," Liam says brokenly, "it's not okay. It's. I was a coward today, and I let you take the fall for me Zayn and I never should have let you do that and you're going to hate me when this is all over - "
"I could never," Zayn breathes out but Liam ignores him.
"You're going to hate me for all the shit I'll have put you through and I can't - " his voice breaks around a sob, "I can't have you hating me, Zayn. I can't. I couldn't do a single day without you I'd -"
"Shut up," Zayn says fiercely, and Liam falls silent abruptly, looking up at him with wide eyes, "I'm not going anywhere, Liam, I promise you. Whatever this is, whatever it's going to turn into, I can handle it, okay? I promise. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I promise you, okay?"
"I'm so sorry, Zayn - " but Zayn shakes his head, presses his face into Liam's hair to breathe him in and he feels Liam's grip tighten almost desperately and it's only like this can he finally find sleep, tucked away in the rise of Liam's chest and the flutter of his eyelids closed and the lines of his brow smoothing out.
--
He loses half a million followers overnight.
--
It's disgusting how many hours he spends holed up, reading through his mentions. Every time he looks there's a new reason to hate him. Assholes hate him for being gay, Little Mixers hate him for cheating on Perrie, Muslims hate him for losing Allah, even the lgbtq community picks on him for lying about himself and breaking someone else's heart in the process. Celebrities say I told you so, nasty articles show up in The Sun and on Sugarscape, and he even gets a fair amount of death threats.
And through it all, he keeps his newest mantra going, wraps his emotions tightly around him, makes himself small that he can't feel anything but a blank buzzing, has only enough energy to manage a tight-lipped smile and a forced cheer.
Liam needs him to be strong, so he'll be strong.
Or he'll bloody well try.
And maybe it's because he's gotten damn good at pretend, or maybe it's because no one can quite look him in the eye, but it seems to pass, for awhile.
--
Niall and Liam stumble in when Zayn's scrolling through tumblr, unconsciously comparing the amount of hate to the amount of support. It's a losing battle.
They approach slowly but Zayn sends them a disarming smile.
"It's great isn't it? How many people are thanking me for coming out? Feel like a role model," he says, the strain in his voice only slightly audible. Liam and Niall look at him nervously, but Zayn shuts his laptop with a snap, pulls Niall down for a cuddle.
"What's for lunch," he asks, and over Niall's shoulder he can see a small amount of tension leave Liam's body and he sighs in satisfaction.
--
It's Louis that notices the tremor in his hands. He can't go outside to smoke because outside there are fans with signs of hate and disgust and anger painted on them and Zayn just doesn't know how to deal with that so he sits inside and deals with the withdrawal instead.
"Alright?" Louis asks him, and his gaze is calculating and Zayn feels naked underneath it. He clenches his hands into fists to stop the shaking.
"Yeah," he croaks out.
"You need a cigarette," Louis says when it dawns on him, eyes widening. "Zayn, go, it's alright. You've got it down to a manageable level, we're all so proud of you just. Smoke one. Take it slow - "
"I can't," Zayn mutters, tips of his ears turning red, "Management'll probably go berserk with the photos that show up on the internet and I don't think I can afford to piss them off anymore," he lies. Because he doesn't give a shit about management, honestly, but the thought of going out there, listening to fans scream horrible things at him, is something he's not sure he'll be able to handle.
"I'll go with you," Louis says, softening, and Zayn wonders how much he sees through the lie, "C'mon."
Zayn sighs. The offer's too temping to refuse -
"Fine, but you've got to promise you won't say anything or do anything, no matter what. Promise?"
Louis eyes him curiously, but nods.
"Promise."
When they step outside there's an immediate buzz of activity. Posters go up, people stomp their feet and Zayn swears he hears an actual growl permeate the crowd.
He lights his cigarette. Inhales.
"We don't want the cheater we want the true members of one direction," someone snarls, and Louis's hands clench into fists. He's gone pale and dangerous looking and Zayn kicks at him.
"Not a word," he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
"I love you Zayn Malik," someone else shouts, and there's a loud booing noise that follows.
"Anyone who's a fan of Zayn doesn't deserve to live," someone answers nastily. Louis's eyes narrow.
"Lou," Zayn mumbles, "Lou, c'mon, you promised."
"They're wankers," Louis mutters, "All of them, I swear to god - "
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn says, putting out his half smoked cig and grabbing Louis' elbow. "Back on the bus."
"What the fuck," Louis growls when they're back safely within the confines of the bus, "Zayn, fuckssake - "
"What's up?" Liam interrupts, studying Zayn.
Zayn shrugs, throws Liam a smile.
"Nothing. C'mon, Lou, relax. It's a good thing. Means people are loyally in support of Little Mix. Means our dating's done its job, yeah?"
He looks away from their dumbfounded faces.
"Gonna shower," he says finally, "Heat's gross."
Only under the spray does he allow himself to pound the wall in frustration, feel the pain like a weight in his belly.
--
"Have you talked to him yet?" Harry asks, urgent and hushed. They're assuming he's asleep, which, before this was probably true, but now he's hardly slept since that night with Liam on the couch so -
"Not really, I - "
"Liam," Louis scolds and Zayn bites his lip, keeps his eyes closed.
"He's fine - "
"Listen, if you want one of us to do it, that's fine," Niall says gently, "We can - "
"He's fine, Niall," Liam insists defiantly, "He's. He says he's handling it. If he wasn't, he'd tell me."
"Alright," and Zayn can almost picture the way Louis holds up his hands in concession, "Alright, we trust you Li, you know him best."
"No he doesn't," Harry mutters, and then he cries out in pain, "Ow Lou, what was that for - "
"What's that supposed to mean?" Liam asks him and there's an edge to his voice, and Zayn swallows, tries to keep his breathing even.
"Nothing," Harry mutters darkly.
"Haz - " Louis warns.
"Nothing Liam," Harry says again, making a solid attempt to be slightly less of an arse this time, "S'just, you know. You've been a bit carried away with your different boy a night thing, yeah? So - "
"So nothing," Liam says frostily, "He's still - "
"Your favorite, yeah we know," Niall says warmly and he's attempting to diffuse the tension and they let him, and Zayn lets out a quiet breath of relief.
--
He's in the bathroom when he gets the call. He's examining his face in the mirror, pressing fingers against the bags under his eyes and the hollows in his cheekbones when his phone blasts out an old Bollywood tune. His heart sinks.
It's his sister, when he answers, and she's whispering.
"Zayn, s'me, Doniya," she starts.
"Hey," he manages, "Everything alright?"
"No Zee," she says hurriedly, "Baba's furious. You've got to -. Fuck he's going to call you okay? I just wanted to warn you but - "
"I'm sorry," Zayn mumbles against the fear that's holding his lungs hostage, "Doniya I - "
"Don't. Don't apologize yeah? It's alright. I mean. It's not, but. You're. You're alright. Okay?"
He clutches his phone tightly, desperately.
"Thanks," he croaks out.
"Yeah," she says again, and they've never been good at telling each other how they feel, the two of them, but Zayn feels a flood of hot relief regardless. "Danny and Ant are here," she says suddenly, "Trying to calm him down."
Zayn swallows. He hasn't talked to either of them, but he's sure they've always known. They've have teased him about Liam as well. Carefully, kindly, as if testing the waters, trying to get a feel for Zayn's true feelings. He's grateful for them, he always is. But tonight, especially so.
"I've got to go, Zayn. Just. Be ready," she hangs up and Zayn takes a deep breath, sinks slowly to the bathroom floor.
He's been spending a lot of time on bathroom floors, he realizes.
--
He doesn't cry when it's all over. He doesn't do anything. Just sits there for what feels like hours, the echo of You are not allowed back into this house, you are never to speak to this family again, you keep your filthiness away from this God loving household on a loop, loud and angry behind his eyes.
Eventually he gets up, marches out with a smile plastered on his face. He shrugs at the silent question Liam's throwing him.
"Sorry, Doniya called. Wanted to tell me how proud she was for coming out."
"Oh that's brilliant, Zayn, good on you," Niall grins happily at him and Zayn carefully ignores the skeptical look Harry's shooting his way in favor of smiling back at Niall. Liam comes and swings an arm around him and Zayn leans into it.
"Proud of you," Liam mumbles and Zayn flushes slightly.
"Thanks. Feels good," he lies through his teeth, looking up at the other boy.
--
The most frustrating thing about it is that he doesn't even know what sets him off. One moment he's scrolling through the headlines of The Times (perspective, it helps a bit) and the next moment his body's betraying him. A wave of exhaustion overtakes him so fast he almost chokes on the first sob, doesn't realizes he's trembling until he sees his phone shaking in his hands. He curls up, retreats into himself and lets the tears fall, muffles his cries into his elbow.
"Zayn?" comes Harry's whisper and fuck but he can't get the shaking under control, "Zayn, fuck, it's alright babe, c'mon."
He shuts the bedroom door carefully behind him and joins Zayn in bed, pulling Zayn's pliant body into him.
"You don't have to - " Zayn tries, swiping impatiently at tears that won't stop, but Harry interrupts him.
"Shut up," he says fiercely, tugging him closer. "I want to you complete idiot. What happened?"
"Nothing - " Zayn chokes out, "Honest, I'm just. I'm just exhausted Haz, I just want to fucking disappear, I just want it to be over, Harry, please - "
"Shh," Harry says quietly, kissing Zayn's temple, "I'm so sorry Zayn. If I could do anything, I would. Tell me what to do, I'll do it in a heartbeat."
And Zayn tries to compose himself but his body's had enough of restraint.
"Bloody hell, what's happened?" comes Niall's voice from the doorway and through his tears he can see Niall's gone pale and he clutches the door with white hands.
"Get Liam," Harry orders.
"No, Haz, don't," Zayn begs, but it's futile.
"Do it, Niall," when the door shuts again Harry turns back to Zayn, "I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do here but, this has got to stop. Enough yeah? We're your brothers, Zayn. We made promises to each other. You promised us you'd always be honest with us."
"It's not like that Haz, you don't understand - " but then the door's opening and Zayn clenches his eyes shut against the stricken look on Liam's face.
"What happened?" he asks faintly.
"Nothing happened," Harry bites out, "He's just fucking exhausted because he thinks he has to deal with this shit on his own like a fucking martyr."
"Zayn," Liam whispers, and he looks heartbroken, "C'mon Zayn, you know that's not true. I thought you trusted me. Thought we told each other everything."
"I'm sorry," Zayn chokes out, clutching at Harry, "I just. I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to think I wasn't strong enough - "
"I fucking knew it," Harry snaps, "What the fuck did you say to him Liam?"
"Harry," Niall warns.
"I didn't - " Liam starts but Zayn stands, wiping away his tears determinedly.
"It's not your fault," Zayn tells him softly, "It's not, okay Haz? So just - "
"The fuck it's not his fault, Zayn! All of this is his fault," Harry snarls. He stands too, points a finger at Liam who seems to grow behind it defensively, "Fucking starting with him sleeping his way through this tour. Jesus - "
"Fuck off," Liam mutters darkly, "It's none of your fucking business, Styles."
"None of my business?" Harry starts, voice getting steadily louder, "None of my business? Everything any of you lot does is my fucking business. We share this fucking business, or don't you remember? And what right do you have to act like a fucking teenager while the rest of us have to listen to orders? Why do you get to slag around while we get told what we can and can't do?"
"Hey," Niall says softly, bravely putting an arm around Harry, "C'mon Haz, s'alright," he soothes.
"It's not," Harry says brokenly, sinking into Niall's touch, "No it's not, Niall. Fuck. It's not fair. I just. How come I have to go out on all these bloody dates and Zayn has to be called a cheater in a fake relationship and Liam gets to sleep with as many men as he wants? It's just. It's not fair. I never even got to - "
Zayn stares at him with wide eyes and breath caught in his throat. He's not mad at Liam, Zayn realizes with a heavy heart, he's just mad. Constrained and tied down so that the rope cuts into his wrists and he's too tired to fight back and too enraged to give in and so he's. Caught. Just like Zayn.
He opens his mouth but Louis' already there, coming in from the doorway to wrap arms around Harry, and today for some reason he manages to envelope the younger boy, hold him tight.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Liam mumbles softly, but Harry shakes his head.
"Me too," he responds despondently, voice muffled into Louis' shoulder, "Shouldn't have - "
"S'okay," Liam cuts him off firmly, "Deserved it."
Harry pulls away from Louis finally, eyes wet with unshed tears.
"No you didn't. I am sorry. I'm just - "
"Exhausted," Zayn offers quietly, and Harry shoots him a pained smile.
"I was gonna say mental, but - " Niall jokes cautiously and Harry rolls his eyes at him, but his smile grows and the tears don't fall so.
"Just sort this, yeah Li?" Harry says, gesturing at Zayn and Zayn raises an eyebrow at him indignantly, "He's your favorite so he's your responsibility."
Liam laughs weakly, eyes never leaving Harry's.
"He's a right state without you," Louis muses, "Trying to handle things alone," he clucks his tongue.
"Mental," Niall agrees.
"Oi. M'still here," Zayn protests. The boys turn to look at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm fine - " he starts.
"Shut up," they chorus and Zayn shakes his head, looks at Liam who's looking back at him, hesitant and curious.
"Give us a minute, yeah?" Liam asks quietly, and the rest of the boys nod silently, shooting them both reassuring looks before filing out one by one.
"We don't have to do this right now," or ever, he adds silently, staring at Liam, waiting for him to make his move. Liam just shakes his head, takes a step closer.
"Tell me what you need," he demands, another step closer, "Tell me how I can help," he takes one more step, and now Zayn can see early hints of stubble.
"I'm fine," he says, trying to sound more defiant than dazed.
"For chrissake, Zayn. When I said I was afraid that you'd hate me, I didn't mean that you wouldn't be strong enough to handle it. You don't have to be strong for this. It's fucked up, the whole thing. It's a fucked up world and sometimes we're not strong enough to deal with it and that's why it's me and you. Okay? That's what me and you means. Means I get to be there for you through everything," he pauses, looking suddenly miserable, "It also, generally means that I don't get you into shit like this to begin with but," he smiles self-deprecatingly, "I'm fucked up too. So - "
"Liam - " Zayn shakes his head but Liam recognizes the way his willpower is weakening, comes even closer to rest a hand on his hip.
"Tell me what you need," Liam repeats, eyes searching Zayn's relentlessly, "Tell me how I can make this better."
And Zayn gives in, easy.
"Haven't really slept properly since that last night on the couch," he confesses, biting his lip after, waiting for Liam's reaction.
Liam just shakes his head.
"You're a complete arse and sometimes I don't know what to do with you," Liam says, mostly fond, but there's frustration heavy under his words, "You could have just said - "
"I didn't want you to worry," Zayn defends meekly.
"I just. I don't understand you. I turned your life into a complete shit overnight because I wanted to get laid and I was too much of a coward to fess up about it and still you're the one that's got to protect me? Why?"
Zayn shrugs, ducks his head.
"You're my favorite," he jokes, deflects. Liam steeples their foreheads together.
"Zayn," he pouts childishly, trying to hold back a laugh at their old joke. He looks ridiculous and Zayn laughs despite himself, desperate to turn this light again.
"Liam," Zayn shoots back, grinning at him. "C'mon then. You gonna take me to bed or not?" he asks slowly, eyebrows raised teasingly.
Liam's eyes widen in absolute shock, and then he blushes a brilliant shade of red.
"Fucking hell, you did that on purpose," Liam grumbles, "Take you to bed," he repeats disbelievingly, "I'll fucking show you how I'd take you to bed," he scoops Zayn up and throws him over his shoulder as easy a sack of potatoes and Zayn shrieks his laughter.
"Oh my god, Li put me down!"
Liam twirls him about a bit, the two of them laughing breathless and giddy, before he finally dumps him roughly on the bed. And then their eyes meet and there's an electricity in Liam's that kills Zayn's laughter in his throat, body going almost embarrassingly pliant under Liam's hands.
Liam ducks his head and clears his throat.
"Sleep?" he asks, and he's gone quiet suddenly, avoids eye contact, "You want me to stay, right?"
Zayn nods, watches confusedly as Liam fumbles with his sneakers, toeing them off clumsily and stumbling into bed.
"Comfortable?" Liam asks when they've settled against each other, but Zayn decides he doesn't like the way Liam looks so serious so he puts a firm hand on Liam's hip, turns him so they're lying on their sides facing each other.
"Lee-yum," Zayn wheedles, adopting his old accent from their x-factor days. "Vas happenin?'" he asks gently.
Liam shakes his head, writhing away from Zayn's tickling fingers. His eyes are closed and a faint reluctant smile teases his features and Zayn's greedy for more.
"C'mon," he nudges, "Could do this all night - " his fingers search for Liam's most ticklish spots and Liam gasps out a laugh, reaching down to still his hand.
"S'nothing," he insists, shy, "Silly."
"Tell me," Zayn demands. Liam opens his eyes, fixes Zayn with an amused stare.
"S'just. You make me so happy, you know?" there's color in his cheeks and Zayn fucking aches to feel the heat there, "Wish you felt the same way."
Zayn can only shake his head in disbelief, will his organs to cooperate, because Liam is absolutely the most daft person on this planet. He's in love with an actual idiot.
"Sap," he teases, seeking refuge in old patterns easily enough, steepling their foreheads together. From here he can count Liam's eyelashes, pale in the moonlight that seeps through Zayn's window. They frame earnest brown eyes and Zayn wants to answer them with kisses pressed to translucent eyelids, "I do, Li, promise," he says instead.
Liam smiles back softly, nudges his nose against Zayn's, and Zayn closes his eyes against the intimacy of the gesture, breathes out.
"Tired?" Liam asks him gently, and Zayn nuzzles closer into him, presses them together chest to chest and hides his face in Liam's neck to disguise his choked up voice.
"Yeah," he nods against Liam's skin, "Glad you're here."
Liam presses a kiss to the top of his head, slings an arm along his waist.
"M'always here, you donut."
And it's still not enough and Zayn has never hated himself more for not making it be.
--
"Nervous?" Niall asks, tugging one of Zayn's hands out from where they wrap around each other in his lap and lacing his fingers through it. Zayn wants to tell him no, he's fine, but Niall will call his bluff, hold his sweaty palms up as evidence.
Instead he just nods tightly, and Niall squeezes his fingers.
"They're gonna vet all the questions. You won't get one you won't be able to answer," Niall soothes and Zayn relaxes a fraction, squeezes back.
His phone rings a second later and he tuns it on one handedly so he doesn't have to let go.
It's from Perrie and he relaxes a fraction further.
good luck today babes you've got this. just rmr its pretend ok? an ACT. i know its not true u know it's not true the boys know it's not true. we're all that matters yeah? we're here.
They're ushered upstairs and backstage as soon as they get in. It's a ritzy place so it must be an important interview, Zayn's not sure, he had gone completely numb as soon as he'd heard they were to give a live interview so soon after the scandal, let him give his statement. Zayn had wanted to argue that they've never made him speak out against any other accusations of cheating, but then again, none of them had any truth to them or HQ pictures to tag along. He sighs heavily.
They're placed two to a dressing room. Harry's paired with Zayn but Zayn sees Liam whisper something to him and Harry smile and nod back and then Liam's heading to him, squeezing the back of his neck lightly.
"C'mon, you're with me Malik," he says brightly. Steady and composed he wraps a reassuring hand around Zayn's shoulders, leads him inside.
When he's shut the door behind them he embraces Zayn tightly,
"You're gonna be great," he says gently, and he sounds so sure and Zayn nods gratefully against him. "Gonna help you, yeah? We all will. You're not alone, babe, promise."
And Lou will kill him if he cries and he'll cry if he speaks so he just stays silent, soaks in Liam's soothing presence. Liam pulls back, keeps his hands fisted in the material along Zayn's hips.
"And if you ever stumble," Liam continues reasonably, "Just make that face at the camera," he pouts his lips, narrows his eyes in a way that makes him look completely ridiculous, "Then no one will be able to pay attention to what you say - "
"Hey," Zayn laughs despite himself, tries to be indignant, "You trying to say I'm nothing but a pretty face?"
"Well you do have a pretty face," Liam teases back, tightens his grip along Zayn's hips. "You ready?"
--
The thing about doing an interview, is that they could probably do it in their sleep. And it's not because it's easy, exactly. An interview with five teenage boys should be a disaster, constant interruptions and petty fights and goofing off - and they do do that sometimes, but only on purpose. If they have to, they can be in perfect sync. It's not anything physical, Zayn thinks idly, not really. S'nothing you can catch on film or freeze on camera. It's just, sitting between them, Zayn can feel Niall's heart rate through the point where their sneakers touch, can tell the rhythm Harry breathes at where his hand lies on his knee, can pick up on the tension of Louis' muscles when he catches his eye, smiles. And regardless of what their PR team wants to sell, it wasn't natural, they didn't just fall into it. They built this, the connections between them, the security, the trust. Worked at it for days and months and years.
Starting with that silly little question game in the bungalow.
Zayn sighs.
"So, we're here with One Direction, boy band sensation. Boys, this is a bit of an interesting interview, isn't it? First interview since your names were in the news for something other than record breaking album sales, isn't it? Zayn, what can you tell us about that?"
Louis' muscles tense. Zayn swallows.
"Um. Got photographed leaving a club," he mumbles.
"That's right," the interviewer continues enthusiastically. He's leaning forward on the edge of his seat, expression eager. "We've got the picture here, haven't we - "
It's pulled up onto the screen in front of them, the picture of him pressing himself up into a complete stranger, and Zayn flinches away from it. Beside him he can feel Liam stiffen.
"Did you know the young man beforehand?" he asks him. Zayn shakes his head.
"No, we'd just met at the club. Made some poor decisions that night," he says, tries to stay light, "Learned my lessons though, I promise," he says, putting on his best smile. Pretend, he thinks, slipping back into the old rhythm of press. He can do this.
"Right," the interviewer says, a bit disdainfully, and Zayn feels Harry's breathing begin to strain, feels some of his confidence ebb, wonders if by some sick twist of faith their interviewer has been cheated on in the past or something. "And what does your girl friend think about these lessons?"
"Er, we're working through it," he stammers, "She's. It's a bit complicated? Life on the road, innit? So we're trying to work it out. She's amazing, brilliant really, really chilled out so - "
"Well, I'm afraid I can't understand where she's coming from," the interviewer interrupts loftily, "Don't really see how you're worthy of her forgiveness."
"Shut up," Liam bites out and Niall's heart rate jumps and Zayn's stomach does somersaults but he can only stare at Liam who's hands are clenched in fists and who's eyes stare daggers into the interviewer, "Don't you dare talk to him like that."
"Liam - " Harry warns carefully, like Liam's gone completely mental, which. Liam's never even come close to losing it in public. Zayn's seen him angry before, but never in front of the cameras -
"Don't," LIam snaps back, and there's a collective, silent intake of breath, "Don't tell me to - he has no right to say that shit - "
"Ah, yes, this is interesting," the interviewer turns his attention to Liam, clearly delighted by the turn of events, "Do you really think he deserves your defense? Or is this all just an act - "
"You bastard," Liam snarls, makes an actual lunge for the man, and Zayn is immobile with shock but Niall and Harry are ready for it, catch his arms, force him back.
"Liam," Niall cries, "Liam relax - "
"He's ten times the man you'll ever be," Liam growls out, "So you can just shut the fuck up you miserable - "
The producers and camera crew have gone berserk around them, people waving their hands wildly, rushing to salvage the situation. Cameras are being shut off and they're being ushered quickly off the stage, but Zayn remains in a daze, blinded by the hot lights.
"Fucking hell, Paul, you said they were gonna vet the questions, what the fuck was that?" Liam's shouting, Harry and Niall still firmly attached to his shoulders. Paul opens his mouth helplessly but Louis gets in between them with a hand on Liam's chest.
"Take a fucking breath, c'mon Li," he fists a hand in Liam's shirt, tugs him roughly into the nearest green room. Niall and Harry have started talking in hushed voices to Paul and Zayn finally notices the way people have drawn together with worried looks on their faces and fuck, Liam's gonna be in so much trouble, the tosser has actual shit for brains.
Before he can even understand what he's doing he's rushing off to the dressing room.
"What the fuck Liam," he bites out, slamming the door shut and storming up to point a finger to Liam's chest. Louis clears his throat, lets his hands drop from where they'd rested on Liam's shoulders.
"Gonna give you two a moment, yeah," he mumbles, edging out of the room quickly and pulling the door shut behind him. Zayn barely acknowledges it.
"Jesus christ Liam, have lost your mind? Pulling a stunt like that, I can't fucking believe you. You're going to be fucked by management, I swear to god what were you thinking?"
And suddenly Liam's yanking him forward, pressing his lips to Zayn's. Zayn remains stiff with absolute shock, body too used to restraint when it comes to Liam, instinctively wary.
Liam pulls himself away jerkily.
"Wasn't. Wasn't thinking," he chokes out, his hands falling into fists at his side. He's not looking at Zayn and he looks wretched, "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Zayn. I wasn't thinking, I was never thinking I -. I tried, I swear to god, I tried not to, I tried to stop but you're. You're you and you make it so bloody difficult and, god Zayn, please, I'm sorry I - "
"Liam," Zayn interrupts desperately, "Liam. I need you to. Fuck, I need you to use full sentences yeah, cause I'm - "
Liam looks up at him confusedly, brow furrowed, bottom lip between his teeth as he studies him and Zayn can almost see the moment it dawns on him, the way his eyes widen in shock.
"Zayn," he says with quiet wonderment, taking a step closer, "You - " he trails off, runs his thumb along Zayn's bottom lip. Zayn trembles helplessly against the caress, shuts his eyes.
"Li," he begs, "PleaseI can't- "
"It's okay Zayn. It's going to be okay," Liam murmurs gently, "I love you," he says, "M'in love with you - "
And Zayn is darting forward to kiss him, a whimper caught between them as they press close to each other, and Zayn would think he was dreaming except for the solid weight of Liam's body against his, the strength of his hands around his waist, the little sighs he keeps making against his lips.
They only pull back when they have to breathe, and still Liam's pressing kisses into his cheek and jaw and the middle of his forehead. Zayn laughs breathlessly.
"I thought - you never said - "
Liam pulls back, shakes his head with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
"I tried, you complete dolt," he chides softly, "Tried to tell you all the time, as many ways I could but you - you kept putting distance between us so I thought you must not be interested."
"Self-preservation," Zayn says meekly. Liam raises an eyebrow at him, "Just. You've always been. Unattainable. And then you weren't and I just. Didn't know how to - "
"Oh," Liam breathes, eyes widening at Zayn's confession. He leans in to kiss him once more, but Zayn pulls back. Damned self-preservation.
"You're. You're sure, right Li? I mean. Fuck, I'm sorry. I just. I couldn't. If you weren't - "
"Zayn," Liam tugs him closer with arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss into his neck. Zayn shivers, eyes fluttering closed, "I've been trying to get you out of my system for ages. And it hasn't - It's like, It's always been me and you right? I can't do a single day without s'just," he steeples their foreheads together, looks Zayn straight in the eye, "Took me a while to figure out that meant I couldn't do a single day without wanting to kiss you."
Zayn blushes, half waits for Liam to come out and say he's joking, having a bit of a laugh, but Liam just noses at him, lets the phantom of a kiss linger between them. Zayn draws a shaky breath.
"Sap," he manages finally, dry-mouthed. Liam giggles.
"Gonna give me your letterman jacket now?" he asks teasingly.
"S'all I've ever wanted to do," Zayn tells him seriously, and it's Liam's turn to blush, duck his head shyly.
"I love you," he tells him again.
Zayn can only nod shakily, offer Liam a weak smile.
"I just. I can't believe - "
"I know," Liam smiles gently at him, "Try? I'll help you." His smile's turning cheeky and Zayn frowns questioningly at him, but then Liam's capturing his lips in a kiss, slow and chaste this time, like he's waiting for Zayn to catch up, and if there's one thing Zayn's not, it's a slow learner, so he reaches up to cup Liam's face, change the angle, deepen the kiss.
"Helping?" Liam gasps into his mouth as Zayn nibbles on his lower lip.
Zayn smiles into the kiss.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "Shh," he scolds playfully, groaning when Liam tightens his hold around Zayn's waist, aligns their hips -
"Oi, thought you two would have learned your lesson by now."
They break apart instantly, but Zayn's apology dies in his throat when he turns to see his bandmates smiling at him, almost giddy with happiness. Harry's hiding his grin into Niall's hair and Niall's trying to scold Louis but Louis's clutching his belly with laughter, eyes bright.
"Shove it, Lou, nearly gave them a heart attack," Niall's saying without any bite.
The five of them just look at each other for a moment, and then Louis' giving them a small nod, and so Liam takes Zayn's hand, thumbs across his knuckles lightly. Zayn tries to ignore the way his pulse jumps.
"We're really happy for you," Harry says then.
"And not really surprised in the least," Louis tells them, grinning.
"Does this mean Li's not gonna lose his marbles on national TV again?" Niall remarks casually and Liam winces.
"Sorry about that - " he mumbles, "M'a twat, aren't I?"
"Nah," Louis waves a hand, "You were defending Zayn's honor - "
"Oi," Zayn calls out because he's still got some dignity left, damnit. But Liam's grinning wild and fond, leaning over to plant a kiss to the side of his head, so. That's alright, then. Dignity's probably overrated anyway.
"Anyway," Harry continues, "We were out of our minds too, he was a complete shit."
"Yeah, totally out of line, Zayn," Niall agrees.
"S'okay," Zayn says, smiling weakly.
"Management's gonna have your head though, you ready for this?" Harry asks Liam softly and Zayn watches the weight of exchange between them. Liam nods.
"Bout time I pulled my weight," he says lightly. Harry nods back and Zayn squeezes his hand back, warm and solid.
--
"Oii, Liam, you've got the chain on," Zayn calls, trying to peek through the cracked open door. He hears footsteps, then the door closes and the chain unlocks and it's Liam's face appearing the doorframe.
"Hi," he says a bit breathlessly, "You're a bit early - "
Zayn shrugs, offers Liam a bright smile, and then stops abruptly when his eyes focus on the room behind him, "Liam," he breathes out, "What. What is all this?"
There are candles everywhere, small ones and big ones, flames skipping and dancing in the small space and casting the entire room in a soft glow. Roses in a vase adorn the bedside table, and a champagne bottle and two glasses are in a tray on the bed and Zayn has to blink a few times, make sure it's all real.
"Just wanted to prove to you that I'm serious about this. Us," Liam says shyly, "Is it too much?"
Zayn turns to him with wide eyes.
"You did this. For me?" he asks hoarsely and Liam laughs. "It's. Fuck, Li. It's perfect."
"You're perfect," Liam grins back, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Zayn wrinkles his nose.
"Am I gonna have to deal with your cheese forever, then?" he asks, biting his lip when he realizes what he's just said. But Liam just takes a step closer, eyes darkening.
"I'd say so, yeah," he whispers and maybe he's saying other things too but Zayn's eyes have fallen to his lips and he has to swallow against the heat that jumps between them, reach up to tug at Liam's bottom lip with his teeth. Liam moans, cups Zayn's face and kisses him properly, licking into Zayn's mouth and twirling their tongues together.
"Should we. Fuck. Zayn. Should we take this slow?"
Zayn shakes his head.
That's an awful idea," he scolds, hands slipping under Liam's tee. Liam whimpers at the slide of Zayn's nails along his hipbones, breaking the kiss to pant against Zayn's neck, and Zayn takes advantage of the angle to nip at Liam's ear, lick soothingly at the bites. Liam's hips jerk forward and Zayn groans.
"Take this off," he demands, fisting a hand in Liam's shirt. Liam obeys, tugging it off one handedly and then yanking at Zayn's as well. They separate briefly, sharing twin moans with the new skin to skin contact. "Wanna suck you off," Zayn murmurs, low and hot and Liam shuts his eyes.
"Fucking hell. Bed?"
"No, right here," Zayn mumbles, sinking to his knees and reaching to unbutton LIam's jeans, "Can't wait a second longer."
Please is torn from Liam as Zayn presses kisses to his dick through his pants, mouthing at the cotton that's already stained with precome.
"So wet for me already," Zayn groans out, palming at his own dick through his trousers. Liam's got his head thrown back against the door but now he looks down, meets Zayn's hooded gaze.
"Fuck, fuck fuck, " he chants, "M'not gonna. Fuck. Not gonna last Zayn. Please," he begs. So Zayn untucks him gently, smirking slightly when Liam bucks his hips. He presses a kiss to the tip before he swallows him down slowly, pumping him with a hand around the base. He hollows his cheeks, savors the bitter taste of Liam on his tongue, heavy against his senses, driving him fucking crazy. He only gets a few good pulls in before Liam's tugging at his hair in warning, and Zayn decides instantly he's never liked his name better than when it's being bitten out by Liam on a groan, face screwed up beautifully as he comes.
He sinks to his knees almost instantly, batting Zayn's hand away and undoing his jeans. He leans Zayn back gently on the carpet, kisses him to share his taste, groaning when Zayn licks behind his teeth.
"Fucking love you," Liam mumbles, pulling lazily at Zayn's cock. "Next time, m'gonna do you. Can't wait to get my mouth around your cock - " and he doesn't tighten his grip but that's all Zayn needs to come, head thrown back on a moan as Liam milks him through it, whispering easy encouragement, kissing him on the come down.
"Fuck," Zayn whispers weakly, eying the mess he's made on his belly. Liam reaches idly for a shirt to clean him off. "You can wear that one," he tells Liam sleepily, "Don't care if you stretch it out."
Liam laughs, lays out to rest his head on Zayn's chest, fingers tracing the lines of Zayn's stomach.
"Gonna make you wear my clothes all the time," Liam says, "Can't wait to see you in one of my cut offs."
"M'naked and you're thinking about me wearing clothes?" Zayn asks, trying to sound offended. Liam makes a valiant effort to kiss him, only manages to reach the corner of his mouth.
"For later. No one gets to see you like this but me, yeah?" and there's a question carefully disguised in that so Zayn answers it.
"Yours, Li," he says softly, and if there are tears in his eyes, he's gonna blame it on the post-orgasm haze.
"Mine," Liam agrees, infinitely more relaxed. "Do you wanna move up to the bed?" he asks after a beat.
"Don't want to go anywhere without you," Zayn slurs, heavy with sleep, and Liam laughs, tucks closer into his side.
"Idiot," Liam chides softly, "Sleepy idiot. S'me and you, yeah?"
"Me and you," Zayn agrees, mantra coming back to him even at the brink of sleep.
It was always his favorite, anyway.