fic: a tornado flew around
part two
Zayn and Louis are playing some mindless boxing game on the playstation when Liam comes bounding into the tour bus lounge, dressed to go out. He stands behind the couch and covers Zayn's eyes suddenly and Zayn yelps.
"Lee-yum," he whines, "You're - "
"Come out with us tonight," he says, cupping Zayn's face and turning it so Zayn can look up at him. "Please?" It's a question Zayn's gotten every night since they've been on tour and like every other night, he shakes his head. Hearing about Liam's conquests every other night is one thing, but Zayn doesn't think he can stomach watching him in action.
"Can't," he replies, adopting a monotone drone, "Management says I've got to stay in because I'm a dirty cheater."
"Management can go fuck themselves," Liam mutters.
"Language!" Harry admonishes sternly, swatting Liam on the behind as he comes in and tumbling over the top of the couch to rest his feet on Zayn's lap. "Anyway, how come you're not begging me to come out with you? Only Zayn?"
"Zayn's my favorite," Liam says, easy and automatic, "But fine, Harry come out with us. If you do, Zayn'll be more likely to come, too."
Harry can't even pretend to be insulted, he just throws his head back and laughs, his feet kicking up to poke at Zayn's cheek.
"Oh Liam," Harry wheezes, "You've a one track mind, has anyone ever told you."
"Yes," Liam says, he taps on Zayn's cheeks with both hands. "Get up, get up, get up," he whines.
"Alright," Zayn huffs, "I'm getting up," he shoves Harry's feet off and stands and Liam's eyes widen.
"Wait, really?"
"Only to smoke a fag," Zayn tells him, eyes sparkling teasingly.
"Whatta cocktease," grins Louis, shifting to take Zayn's place on the couch and move Harry's feet into his lap. Zayn shrugs innocently, tucks a cig behind his ear and grabs his lighter.
"C'mon then," he beckons to Liam, "Keep me company."
"Ok," Liam says, brightening. He's unable to hide his surprise at Zayn's offer and Zayn feels a wave of guilt so he wraps a hand around Liam's wrist, tugs him out.
"M'gonna put on some trousers, I'll be right out," Louis calls and Liam nods distractedly at him.
Outside, it's a bit nippy and Zayn almost wishes he brought a jacket, but he's too lazy to go back now. The wind's blowing fairly strong, causing the grass lot they've parked next to to ripple under the clear sky and Zayn hums a foreign melody, content.
He struggles to light his cig until Liam adds his hands around the lighter to protect the flame and he can take a grateful inhale.
"Thanks," he says, pocketing his lighter. Liam nods at him, watching the cig where it dangles carelessly between Zayn's lips. "Don't stand downwind," Zayn scolds, "You'll get smoke in your face."
"I'll stand where I want to stand," Liam says defiantly even as he shifts to move closer to Zayn, and Zayn rolls his eyes. "Only one, okay?" he says sternly. Zayn smiles.
"Yessir," he says, giving him a mock salute. Liam grins.
"It was a good show tonight yeah?"
Zayn lets smoke out the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, course it was. You were brilliant."
"So were you," Liam reminds him, "Mister Zayn "Riffy" Malik," he teases.
"Don't, god," Zayn whines, "You're so embarrassing."
"Sorry not sorry," Liam says seriously, "Talent like yours deserves to be praised."
Zayn blushes and Liam hooks his fingers in Zayn's belt to pull him off the bus and closer to the warmth of him.
"You're amazing," Liam says quietly, "And if you blush this hard every time I say it, I'll say it all the time," he declares, smiling soft and fond.
"Thanks," Zayn mumbles, and their proximity does nothing for the color in his cheeks except to maybe reroute some blood to his dick. He shoves at Liam gently, tries to keep it playful so he can have his space back again without letting on, but Liam's face shifts into something more guarded anyway, and he studies Zayn, opens his mouth to say something.
Zayn's bracing himself but before Liam can get a word in Louis's coming off the bus.
"You ready, Li?" he calls.
"Be right there," Liam calls back, looking disappointed, "You sure?" he asks Zayn. His smile's back but it's cautious. Zayn nods, biting at the inside of his cheek.
"I'm sure," Zayn says firmly, "Next time." Liam shakes his head. He knows as well as Zayn that Zayn's lying. "Be safe yeah?"
Liam imitates his salute from earlier, expression grim.
When he's gone Zayn allows himself a moment to slump against the bus frame, drained. That's how he feels really, all the time. Physically exhausted and mentally drained, because now he's always on guard isn't he? Has to keep up a defense against every show of affection and crinkly-eyed smile because otherwise he's afraid he'll give something away. Something that stays at the tip of Zayn's tongue, at the ends of his fingertips. Something that Liam teases every time he presses close to Zayn, steals Zayn's clothes for the smell of them, or looks for Zayn on stage, knees knocking, voices running together.
He has so much more of Liam now, is the thing. Liam's single, he's messing around with guys, and he stays close to Zayn more than ever. Problem is, Zayn didn't realize that the more he gets to keep of Liam the worse it gets. The more he has, the more he realizes it's not enough. It's not enough and it won't be enough until Zayn can taste the heat of Liam's mouth and feel the press of their hips lined up.
So, Liam moves forward and Zayn takes a step back.
It's self-preservation, really.
He's about to light another cig when Niall sticks his head out the window.
"Only one, remember?" he calls, ignoring Zayn's answering groan. "Come on, Zayn, watch me kick Harry's ass at FIFA."
Zayn sighs, goes back inside.
"Alright?" Harry says softly and he's got that look on his face but Zayn rolls his eyes against it.
"Don't give me that, m'still not gonna go easy on you," he says, gesturing at their TV. Harry rolls his eyes.
"Oh, it's on Malik."
--
Liam's coming towards him with a look of silly determination as he sings into his mic and Zayn braces himself for the tightening in his chest at the affection, tries to control his face as Liam sits down next to him, wraps a solid arm around him.
I wanna be beside you, I cannot hide this Liam sings to him and fuck, that's way too ironic for Zayn not to sing along. He tries to be playful but his voice catches on even though I try and there's a flicker of self-deprecation that he's not sure he manages to tuck away.
"I love you babes," Liam whispers into his mic and Zayn's heart bottoms out and it's not fair because what was once a tease is now bordering on torture and there's no way for Zayn to lessen the way Liam carves a piece of him with every smile and touch and breath.
He laughs, because that's literally the only thing he can do in front of thousands of fans and then he's turning away, making space between their bodies and anchoring himself almost desperately in Harry's gaze.
After a moment, Liam takes the hint, releases Zayn, and Zayn tries to breathe again, chants his mantras back to himself as a reminder that this is an act, a performance. Pretend. That Liam can't give him what he wants because he doesn't want what Zayn wants.
Doesn't want Zayn.
--
"Zayn?" Liam whispers softly, bringing him back from the brink of sleep. Zayn forces his eyes open.
"Li?" he asks groggily, voice cracking. Liam's standing on the lowest rung of their ladder, peering into Zayn's bunk. "S'up?"
"Can't sleep," Liam confesses, biting his lip. Under the soft light he looks forlorn, shirtless and barefoot with hair that sticks up everywhere. Zayn swallows.
"There's no way two of us can fit in here anymore. You're gigantic," he informs him. Liam's face goes carefully blank, but not before Zayn catches the hurt in his eyes. He flinches inwardly, "Sorry," he mumbles, instantly apologetic, "we could - "
"No, s'okay," Liam cuts him off, "Forget it."
He's gone before Zayn can protest, and Zayn doesn't call him back.
--
"Best looking member?"
"Liam Payne," Louis answers promptly. The interviewer laughs delightedly.
"How do you feel about that?" she asks him. Liam shrugs, ducks his head.
"Can't be true," he mumbles, "I'm gigantic."
Zayn winces, digs his nails into his palms as Niall throws an arm around Liam's shoulders, kisses Liam on the side of the head.
--
Li was on fire tonight, idk how i managed to keep my hands off him, He's lying on the couch, texting Perrie after a particularly difficult show, in which Liam was giving it his one hundred percent, and Zayn was trying not drool.
HAH did he where that black shirt that's cut off around the sleeves cus that's my fav xx is Perrie's response and Zayn can't help but laugh out loud at the irony that his life has become.
"What's so funny," Liam demands, and Zayn tucks his phone away.
"Nothing, telling Perrie about the show," he tells Liam, eyeing him guardedly. He's wearing jeans that are tight and a shirt that's tighter and this is a Liam that Zayn generally tends to avoid, but he makes to shift so Liam can sit.
Liam straddles him instead and Zayn blinks up at him, defenses up instinctively.
"What's up?" he asks cautiously.
"Come out with us tonight," Liam demands, more forceful than usual. "Please? You used to go out all the time with Harry and Louis and now - You haven't gone out with me yet."
"Liam, you know I - "
"Louis goes out! Even with Eleanor, he goes out. You two can keep each other company."
"Liam - "
"Please?" Liam says, voice gone soft. "Want to - We're in Barcelona, Zayn. It's. I never thought I'd ever get to come here and I. I want to go out with you."
And he's wriggling impatiently in Zayn's lap and that could get dangerous in about thirty seconds so Zayn relents.
"Ok, ok, but get off me you big git," he says, shifting under Liam.
"Promise?" Liam asks cautiously, unmoving.
"Yeah, yes. I promise, Li," Zayn says, swallowing his desperation, and fuck, he really really needs Liam to get off.
Luckily, Liam moves in that moment and Zayn breathes out, adjusts himself as discreetly as he can.
"C'mon," Liam says, and he's beaming at Zayn delightedly and Zayn has to duck his head against the intensity of it, "Get dressed, we're leaving in fifteen."
"Why's this so important to you?" Zayn demands of him, stalling. Liam shrugs, suddenly embarrassed.
"We're getting to travel the world and I want to experience as much of it as I possibly can and there isn't anyone in the world I'd rather do that with than you," Liam confesses a little breathlessly and Zayn can't look at him, can't possibly meet eyes that are probably beautiful with an emotion that is too much and not enough all at once. "Zayn?" Liam asks hesitantly, when Zayn stays silent, "I. Is that okay?"
"Yeah," Zayn chokes out, looking at a point somewhere behind Liam's left ear. "Yeah. That's. Yeah. I'll just. I'll go get ready, yeah?" And he feels himself crumble a little more under the unfairness of it all.
Liam sort of nods at him, backs away so Zayn can get up and then they're both shoulder to shoulder and Zayn sneaks a glance up at Liam's face and he wants to die. Because Liam looks. He looks sad and disappointed and anxious and Zayn made him that way and he can't. He can't leave things like this.
"Me and you," he tells Liam, summoning the courage to look him straight in the eye. "It was me and you from the start and now it's me and you traveling the world and that's. That's all I want too, okay?"
And Liam smiles one of the most beautiful smiles Zayn has ever seen and it's worth it, even through the wave of despair you get from wanting something you can never have. It's worth it.
--
"Can I buy you a drink?" Liam whispers into Zayn's ear. The music is loud and the place is packed and Liam's hands are pressed into Zayn's skin where his shirt rides up and Zayn is probably the stupidest person on this planet.
He manages a nod and Liam signals over the bartender, pressing a shot into his hand a moment later. Zayn downs it quickly, wincing against a burn that's almost foreign now.
"Hey," Louis comes towards them, beckons with a hand over the crowd, "This way, got us a table."
They're put in the VIP section, which they have to climb tall narrow stairs to get to and when they reach their booth they find themselves looking out over the entire club.
"Wicked, right?" Liam grins and he's still talking close into Zayn's ear, even though it's much quieter up here. "Another shot?"
"Do one with Louis," Zayn tells him, smiling despite everything at how excited Liam is about the whole thing. "Gonna ease myself back into it."
Louis and Liam end up doing four more shots and Zayn ends up with a pretty plastered Liam tugging determinedly at his shirt.
"C'mon, dance with me," he murmurs and fuck, at one point Zayn probably had a few ounces of good sense, but now. He follows Liam down the stairs and into the crowd until Liam spins him around, presses their bodies together and slots his hands around Zayn's waist. They grind slow to the pulse of the music and Zayn can't help it, he sneaks an arm behind Liam's head to hook around his neck, keep their bodies close and Liam hums, drops his face into the crook of Zayn's neck and with the first feeling of his lips to Zayn's skin Zayn is suddenly, achingly hard.
"Fuck," he grits out. Fuck fuck fuck. He pulls away, turns around. "Gonna - " he gestures up to where they'd left Louis and Liam's eyes go wide with surprise and then something in them hardens and he spins around, goes off in the opposite direction.
Zayn can't help but follow, bewildered. Liam's headed to the bathroom and the corridor is decidedly quieter but Liam still doesn't turn when Zayn shouts his name, so Zayn makes a grab for him, fingers snagging at his wrist.
"Liam? What's. What's up with you?"
Liam turns towards Zayn and Zayn can tell he's angry and hurt and drunk and Zayn takes a step back.
"What's up with you?" he snaps. "You've been walking on egg shells around me ever since I. Ever since France. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you treating me so fucking carefully," he spits out the word, "What is it Zayn?Are you really that afraid I'll fall for you?" something inside him shifts and now he's just hurt and Zayn takes another step back, "Is the idea of it really that repulsive to you?" he asks quietly.
Zayn opens and closes his mouth. That was. Zayn is at a loss because. That's not what he had expected and Liam's eyes narrow in his silence.
"Oh, wow, okay. Fuck you Zayn," Liam bites out, pushing past him and disappearing into the crowd. Zayn just stands there for a second, trying to gather his thoughts together. That. What? He doesn't think he's heard anything so backwards in his life.
He makes his way back to Louis because there's no way he'll be able to find Liam in the dance floor now and he can't just leave, not like this.
When he climbs the stairs, Louis's scanning the dance floor, but he turns when Zayn makes his way over.
"Alright?" he asks, and it's a loaded question and Zayn sighs.
"Dunno," he mumbles truthfully.
"Yeah," Louis says. "Was surprised when you agreed to come out in the first place."
"I'm not that lame yet," Zayn tries, pretending like he doesn't already know where it was going.
"Didn't think you were," Louis says, "Just never really figured you for a masochist."
And there it is.
"Was it Harry or Niall?" Zayn asks, arms crossed. Louis stares at him for a second and then he bursts out laughing.
"Sorry, sorry fuck. I just. Oh my god, this band. We are. I can't even believe us sometimes," he wheezes out and Zayn groans.
"Fuck, am I really that obvious?"
Louis sobers.
"Do you really want to know?" he counters, more kind than teasing. Zayn shakes his head miserably.
"Fuck."
"Love you," Louis whispers. Zayn shivers.
"I hurt him tonight," Zayn confesses. "He thinks," Zayn lets out a hollow laugh, "He thinks I'm disgusted by the fact that he might like me."
"Christ," Louis mutters sympathetically. "That's some fucked up irony. What're you gonna do?"
Zayn tilts his head, considers his options.
"Set him straight without actually setting him straight?" and it sounds even more hopeless out loud. Louis squeezes him tighter.
"You'll manage. You're Zayn and Liam. You've never quite made sense to the rest of us but you've always managed."
"Thanks," Zayn says drily, and Louis laughs, kisses Zayn on the forehead. Zayn shuts his eyes against the gesture, offers Louis a pained smile, He feels a wave of gratefulness when Louis accepts it without question. They look out onto the dance floor in silence for a moment, scanning for Liam, until Louis draws a breath.
"Fuck, he's um. Zayn -" Louis trails off and Zayn follows his gaze to a corner of the dance floor where Liam's got his arms around another boy, is trailing kisses into his neck with lips that had pressed heat into Zayn's skin just moments ago. Zayn grimaces against the punch to his gut. He expected this. This is. He turns away from it, wraps his own arms tight around himself. "Hey," Louis says gently, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "You and I could dance, make him jealous - "
Zayn lets out a hollow laugh.
"He wouldn't be jealous, Lou, that's the point," and Louis pulls him into a proper hug, holding him close.
"He's pretty possessive of you, you know," Louis murmurs thoughtfully. Zayn chokes back a sob.
"I'm not who he wants. He'd. Fuck. He'd rather sleep with half of Europe than be with me."
"Maybe he doesn't know you're a choice," Louis says quietly.
"Yeah well, then he's an idiot," Zayn mutters and Louis throws his head back and laughs and Zayn looks up at him. "What?" he grumbles out.
"This is Liam we're talking about. He is an idiot, Zayn. Kid thought comedic wasn't a word, for chrissakes."
Zayn cracks a reluctant smile.
"You thought comedic wasn't a word," Zayn reminds him and Louis roughs up his hair.
"Details," he waves a hand, "Listen. I love you," he tells him again, "I know it's not enough but - "
"It's enough, Lou," Zayn cuts him off, overcome with how desperately he wants it to be true. He tightens his arms around the other boy. "It is."
"He's leaving," Louis says after a moment, pointing over Zayn's shoulder towards the far left of the room where Liam's heading for the door, the same boy wrapped around him.
The club's staff are redirecting Liam to what's probably a back exit and in that split second Zayn makes up his mind.
"Hold on," he says, disentangling himself from Louis, "I'm - "
He runs down the stairs and out to where he knows Liam is, hoping to catch them in time -
But Liam is pushing open the door to the club with an arm around the other boy and the boy's tongue in his ear and Zayn follows, hot at his heels.
"Liam - " he calls out but suddenly he's being blinded by camera lights and photographers are shouting questions and Zayn can only watch as Liam pales, face frozen in absolute horror.
"Liam Payne have you been gay this whole time?" shouts out a reporter over the din, and the nasty tone of his voice snaps Zayn out of it and he snarls, hands clenched tight in fists.
They say moments of crisis happen in slow motion, but for Zayn, everything happens at lightening speed. One moment, he's in the background, watching the reporters spew out questions and Liam's panic grow, and the next he's grabbing the boy's hand, tugging him away from Liam.
"He's with me," Zayn says, and then again, louder, "He's with me. I didn't want anyone to know because I didn't want Perrie to find out but. He's. He's with me." And a few cameras are going off but mostly everyone's just looking at him, as if unsure of whether to believe him or not so he does the only thing he can think of, he tugs the boy's head down and captures his lips in a kiss, dramatic and long and horrible and when it's done he pushes roughly through the crowd of papparazi, hand still clutching firmly at the stranger's, stopping only when they reach their car.
"Get in," he orders the boy, and the boy looks wide-eyed at him but obeys and when they're both in, Zayn slams the door shut against any reporters "Drive," he begs their driver, "Please Matt, get us out of here."
Matt nods, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror apologetically and Zayn nods his thanks at the sentiment. When they're moving he turns to the boy sitting next to him.
"I'm so sorry," he says, and there's no feeling behind his words, no feeling in him at all. Just a numbness and a ringing in his ears and. Fuck. What did he just do? "I'm. That wasn't supposed to happen, I - "
"Hey," the boy says, and Zayn closes his eyes against the kindness there because otherwise he thinks he'll be sick, "It's ok. It's fine. You're fine."
"Can I. Can I drop you off somewhere?"
"No just. As soon as we lose the reporters you can drop me off on a corner. My place is close by, we were gonna walk."
"Oh," and Zayn's stomach clenches, "Sorry," he manages.
"Don't be. At least I got a good kiss out of it," he winks and Zayn smiles thinly at him. "Here's fine," he tells the driver. "Good luck," he says softly, and then he's gone.
--
next part
Zayn and Louis are playing some mindless boxing game on the playstation when Liam comes bounding into the tour bus lounge, dressed to go out. He stands behind the couch and covers Zayn's eyes suddenly and Zayn yelps.
"Lee-yum," he whines, "You're - "
"Come out with us tonight," he says, cupping Zayn's face and turning it so Zayn can look up at him. "Please?" It's a question Zayn's gotten every night since they've been on tour and like every other night, he shakes his head. Hearing about Liam's conquests every other night is one thing, but Zayn doesn't think he can stomach watching him in action.
"Can't," he replies, adopting a monotone drone, "Management says I've got to stay in because I'm a dirty cheater."
"Management can go fuck themselves," Liam mutters.
"Language!" Harry admonishes sternly, swatting Liam on the behind as he comes in and tumbling over the top of the couch to rest his feet on Zayn's lap. "Anyway, how come you're not begging me to come out with you? Only Zayn?"
"Zayn's my favorite," Liam says, easy and automatic, "But fine, Harry come out with us. If you do, Zayn'll be more likely to come, too."
Harry can't even pretend to be insulted, he just throws his head back and laughs, his feet kicking up to poke at Zayn's cheek.
"Oh Liam," Harry wheezes, "You've a one track mind, has anyone ever told you."
"Yes," Liam says, he taps on Zayn's cheeks with both hands. "Get up, get up, get up," he whines.
"Alright," Zayn huffs, "I'm getting up," he shoves Harry's feet off and stands and Liam's eyes widen.
"Wait, really?"
"Only to smoke a fag," Zayn tells him, eyes sparkling teasingly.
"Whatta cocktease," grins Louis, shifting to take Zayn's place on the couch and move Harry's feet into his lap. Zayn shrugs innocently, tucks a cig behind his ear and grabs his lighter.
"C'mon then," he beckons to Liam, "Keep me company."
"Ok," Liam says, brightening. He's unable to hide his surprise at Zayn's offer and Zayn feels a wave of guilt so he wraps a hand around Liam's wrist, tugs him out.
"M'gonna put on some trousers, I'll be right out," Louis calls and Liam nods distractedly at him.
Outside, it's a bit nippy and Zayn almost wishes he brought a jacket, but he's too lazy to go back now. The wind's blowing fairly strong, causing the grass lot they've parked next to to ripple under the clear sky and Zayn hums a foreign melody, content.
He struggles to light his cig until Liam adds his hands around the lighter to protect the flame and he can take a grateful inhale.
"Thanks," he says, pocketing his lighter. Liam nods at him, watching the cig where it dangles carelessly between Zayn's lips. "Don't stand downwind," Zayn scolds, "You'll get smoke in your face."
"I'll stand where I want to stand," Liam says defiantly even as he shifts to move closer to Zayn, and Zayn rolls his eyes. "Only one, okay?" he says sternly. Zayn smiles.
"Yessir," he says, giving him a mock salute. Liam grins.
"It was a good show tonight yeah?"
Zayn lets smoke out the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, course it was. You were brilliant."
"So were you," Liam reminds him, "Mister Zayn "Riffy" Malik," he teases.
"Don't, god," Zayn whines, "You're so embarrassing."
"Sorry not sorry," Liam says seriously, "Talent like yours deserves to be praised."
Zayn blushes and Liam hooks his fingers in Zayn's belt to pull him off the bus and closer to the warmth of him.
"You're amazing," Liam says quietly, "And if you blush this hard every time I say it, I'll say it all the time," he declares, smiling soft and fond.
"Thanks," Zayn mumbles, and their proximity does nothing for the color in his cheeks except to maybe reroute some blood to his dick. He shoves at Liam gently, tries to keep it playful so he can have his space back again without letting on, but Liam's face shifts into something more guarded anyway, and he studies Zayn, opens his mouth to say something.
Zayn's bracing himself but before Liam can get a word in Louis's coming off the bus.
"You ready, Li?" he calls.
"Be right there," Liam calls back, looking disappointed, "You sure?" he asks Zayn. His smile's back but it's cautious. Zayn nods, biting at the inside of his cheek.
"I'm sure," Zayn says firmly, "Next time." Liam shakes his head. He knows as well as Zayn that Zayn's lying. "Be safe yeah?"
Liam imitates his salute from earlier, expression grim.
When he's gone Zayn allows himself a moment to slump against the bus frame, drained. That's how he feels really, all the time. Physically exhausted and mentally drained, because now he's always on guard isn't he? Has to keep up a defense against every show of affection and crinkly-eyed smile because otherwise he's afraid he'll give something away. Something that stays at the tip of Zayn's tongue, at the ends of his fingertips. Something that Liam teases every time he presses close to Zayn, steals Zayn's clothes for the smell of them, or looks for Zayn on stage, knees knocking, voices running together.
He has so much more of Liam now, is the thing. Liam's single, he's messing around with guys, and he stays close to Zayn more than ever. Problem is, Zayn didn't realize that the more he gets to keep of Liam the worse it gets. The more he has, the more he realizes it's not enough. It's not enough and it won't be enough until Zayn can taste the heat of Liam's mouth and feel the press of their hips lined up.
So, Liam moves forward and Zayn takes a step back.
It's self-preservation, really.
He's about to light another cig when Niall sticks his head out the window.
"Only one, remember?" he calls, ignoring Zayn's answering groan. "Come on, Zayn, watch me kick Harry's ass at FIFA."
Zayn sighs, goes back inside.
"Alright?" Harry says softly and he's got that look on his face but Zayn rolls his eyes against it.
"Don't give me that, m'still not gonna go easy on you," he says, gesturing at their TV. Harry rolls his eyes.
"Oh, it's on Malik."
--
Liam's coming towards him with a look of silly determination as he sings into his mic and Zayn braces himself for the tightening in his chest at the affection, tries to control his face as Liam sits down next to him, wraps a solid arm around him.
I wanna be beside you, I cannot hide this Liam sings to him and fuck, that's way too ironic for Zayn not to sing along. He tries to be playful but his voice catches on even though I try and there's a flicker of self-deprecation that he's not sure he manages to tuck away.
"I love you babes," Liam whispers into his mic and Zayn's heart bottoms out and it's not fair because what was once a tease is now bordering on torture and there's no way for Zayn to lessen the way Liam carves a piece of him with every smile and touch and breath.
He laughs, because that's literally the only thing he can do in front of thousands of fans and then he's turning away, making space between their bodies and anchoring himself almost desperately in Harry's gaze.
After a moment, Liam takes the hint, releases Zayn, and Zayn tries to breathe again, chants his mantras back to himself as a reminder that this is an act, a performance. Pretend. That Liam can't give him what he wants because he doesn't want what Zayn wants.
Doesn't want Zayn.
--
"Zayn?" Liam whispers softly, bringing him back from the brink of sleep. Zayn forces his eyes open.
"Li?" he asks groggily, voice cracking. Liam's standing on the lowest rung of their ladder, peering into Zayn's bunk. "S'up?"
"Can't sleep," Liam confesses, biting his lip. Under the soft light he looks forlorn, shirtless and barefoot with hair that sticks up everywhere. Zayn swallows.
"There's no way two of us can fit in here anymore. You're gigantic," he informs him. Liam's face goes carefully blank, but not before Zayn catches the hurt in his eyes. He flinches inwardly, "Sorry," he mumbles, instantly apologetic, "we could - "
"No, s'okay," Liam cuts him off, "Forget it."
He's gone before Zayn can protest, and Zayn doesn't call him back.
--
"Best looking member?"
"Liam Payne," Louis answers promptly. The interviewer laughs delightedly.
"How do you feel about that?" she asks him. Liam shrugs, ducks his head.
"Can't be true," he mumbles, "I'm gigantic."
Zayn winces, digs his nails into his palms as Niall throws an arm around Liam's shoulders, kisses Liam on the side of the head.
--
Li was on fire tonight, idk how i managed to keep my hands off him, He's lying on the couch, texting Perrie after a particularly difficult show, in which Liam was giving it his one hundred percent, and Zayn was trying not drool.
HAH did he where that black shirt that's cut off around the sleeves cus that's my fav xx is Perrie's response and Zayn can't help but laugh out loud at the irony that his life has become.
"What's so funny," Liam demands, and Zayn tucks his phone away.
"Nothing, telling Perrie about the show," he tells Liam, eyeing him guardedly. He's wearing jeans that are tight and a shirt that's tighter and this is a Liam that Zayn generally tends to avoid, but he makes to shift so Liam can sit.
Liam straddles him instead and Zayn blinks up at him, defenses up instinctively.
"What's up?" he asks cautiously.
"Come out with us tonight," Liam demands, more forceful than usual. "Please? You used to go out all the time with Harry and Louis and now - You haven't gone out with me yet."
"Liam, you know I - "
"Louis goes out! Even with Eleanor, he goes out. You two can keep each other company."
"Liam - "
"Please?" Liam says, voice gone soft. "Want to - We're in Barcelona, Zayn. It's. I never thought I'd ever get to come here and I. I want to go out with you."
And he's wriggling impatiently in Zayn's lap and that could get dangerous in about thirty seconds so Zayn relents.
"Ok, ok, but get off me you big git," he says, shifting under Liam.
"Promise?" Liam asks cautiously, unmoving.
"Yeah, yes. I promise, Li," Zayn says, swallowing his desperation, and fuck, he really really needs Liam to get off.
Luckily, Liam moves in that moment and Zayn breathes out, adjusts himself as discreetly as he can.
"C'mon," Liam says, and he's beaming at Zayn delightedly and Zayn has to duck his head against the intensity of it, "Get dressed, we're leaving in fifteen."
"Why's this so important to you?" Zayn demands of him, stalling. Liam shrugs, suddenly embarrassed.
"We're getting to travel the world and I want to experience as much of it as I possibly can and there isn't anyone in the world I'd rather do that with than you," Liam confesses a little breathlessly and Zayn can't look at him, can't possibly meet eyes that are probably beautiful with an emotion that is too much and not enough all at once. "Zayn?" Liam asks hesitantly, when Zayn stays silent, "I. Is that okay?"
"Yeah," Zayn chokes out, looking at a point somewhere behind Liam's left ear. "Yeah. That's. Yeah. I'll just. I'll go get ready, yeah?" And he feels himself crumble a little more under the unfairness of it all.
Liam sort of nods at him, backs away so Zayn can get up and then they're both shoulder to shoulder and Zayn sneaks a glance up at Liam's face and he wants to die. Because Liam looks. He looks sad and disappointed and anxious and Zayn made him that way and he can't. He can't leave things like this.
"Me and you," he tells Liam, summoning the courage to look him straight in the eye. "It was me and you from the start and now it's me and you traveling the world and that's. That's all I want too, okay?"
And Liam smiles one of the most beautiful smiles Zayn has ever seen and it's worth it, even through the wave of despair you get from wanting something you can never have. It's worth it.
--
"Can I buy you a drink?" Liam whispers into Zayn's ear. The music is loud and the place is packed and Liam's hands are pressed into Zayn's skin where his shirt rides up and Zayn is probably the stupidest person on this planet.
He manages a nod and Liam signals over the bartender, pressing a shot into his hand a moment later. Zayn downs it quickly, wincing against a burn that's almost foreign now.
"Hey," Louis comes towards them, beckons with a hand over the crowd, "This way, got us a table."
They're put in the VIP section, which they have to climb tall narrow stairs to get to and when they reach their booth they find themselves looking out over the entire club.
"Wicked, right?" Liam grins and he's still talking close into Zayn's ear, even though it's much quieter up here. "Another shot?"
"Do one with Louis," Zayn tells him, smiling despite everything at how excited Liam is about the whole thing. "Gonna ease myself back into it."
Louis and Liam end up doing four more shots and Zayn ends up with a pretty plastered Liam tugging determinedly at his shirt.
"C'mon, dance with me," he murmurs and fuck, at one point Zayn probably had a few ounces of good sense, but now. He follows Liam down the stairs and into the crowd until Liam spins him around, presses their bodies together and slots his hands around Zayn's waist. They grind slow to the pulse of the music and Zayn can't help it, he sneaks an arm behind Liam's head to hook around his neck, keep their bodies close and Liam hums, drops his face into the crook of Zayn's neck and with the first feeling of his lips to Zayn's skin Zayn is suddenly, achingly hard.
"Fuck," he grits out. Fuck fuck fuck. He pulls away, turns around. "Gonna - " he gestures up to where they'd left Louis and Liam's eyes go wide with surprise and then something in them hardens and he spins around, goes off in the opposite direction.
Zayn can't help but follow, bewildered. Liam's headed to the bathroom and the corridor is decidedly quieter but Liam still doesn't turn when Zayn shouts his name, so Zayn makes a grab for him, fingers snagging at his wrist.
"Liam? What's. What's up with you?"
Liam turns towards Zayn and Zayn can tell he's angry and hurt and drunk and Zayn takes a step back.
"What's up with you?" he snaps. "You've been walking on egg shells around me ever since I. Ever since France. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you treating me so fucking carefully," he spits out the word, "What is it Zayn?Are you really that afraid I'll fall for you?" something inside him shifts and now he's just hurt and Zayn takes another step back, "Is the idea of it really that repulsive to you?" he asks quietly.
Zayn opens and closes his mouth. That was. Zayn is at a loss because. That's not what he had expected and Liam's eyes narrow in his silence.
"Oh, wow, okay. Fuck you Zayn," Liam bites out, pushing past him and disappearing into the crowd. Zayn just stands there for a second, trying to gather his thoughts together. That. What? He doesn't think he's heard anything so backwards in his life.
He makes his way back to Louis because there's no way he'll be able to find Liam in the dance floor now and he can't just leave, not like this.
When he climbs the stairs, Louis's scanning the dance floor, but he turns when Zayn makes his way over.
"Alright?" he asks, and it's a loaded question and Zayn sighs.
"Dunno," he mumbles truthfully.
"Yeah," Louis says. "Was surprised when you agreed to come out in the first place."
"I'm not that lame yet," Zayn tries, pretending like he doesn't already know where it was going.
"Didn't think you were," Louis says, "Just never really figured you for a masochist."
And there it is.
"Was it Harry or Niall?" Zayn asks, arms crossed. Louis stares at him for a second and then he bursts out laughing.
"Sorry, sorry fuck. I just. Oh my god, this band. We are. I can't even believe us sometimes," he wheezes out and Zayn groans.
"Fuck, am I really that obvious?"
Louis sobers.
"Do you really want to know?" he counters, more kind than teasing. Zayn shakes his head miserably.
"Fuck."
"Love you," Louis whispers. Zayn shivers.
"I hurt him tonight," Zayn confesses. "He thinks," Zayn lets out a hollow laugh, "He thinks I'm disgusted by the fact that he might like me."
"Christ," Louis mutters sympathetically. "That's some fucked up irony. What're you gonna do?"
Zayn tilts his head, considers his options.
"Set him straight without actually setting him straight?" and it sounds even more hopeless out loud. Louis squeezes him tighter.
"You'll manage. You're Zayn and Liam. You've never quite made sense to the rest of us but you've always managed."
"Thanks," Zayn says drily, and Louis laughs, kisses Zayn on the forehead. Zayn shuts his eyes against the gesture, offers Louis a pained smile, He feels a wave of gratefulness when Louis accepts it without question. They look out onto the dance floor in silence for a moment, scanning for Liam, until Louis draws a breath.
"Fuck, he's um. Zayn -" Louis trails off and Zayn follows his gaze to a corner of the dance floor where Liam's got his arms around another boy, is trailing kisses into his neck with lips that had pressed heat into Zayn's skin just moments ago. Zayn grimaces against the punch to his gut. He expected this. This is. He turns away from it, wraps his own arms tight around himself. "Hey," Louis says gently, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "You and I could dance, make him jealous - "
Zayn lets out a hollow laugh.
"He wouldn't be jealous, Lou, that's the point," and Louis pulls him into a proper hug, holding him close.
"He's pretty possessive of you, you know," Louis murmurs thoughtfully. Zayn chokes back a sob.
"I'm not who he wants. He'd. Fuck. He'd rather sleep with half of Europe than be with me."
"Maybe he doesn't know you're a choice," Louis says quietly.
"Yeah well, then he's an idiot," Zayn mutters and Louis throws his head back and laughs and Zayn looks up at him. "What?" he grumbles out.
"This is Liam we're talking about. He is an idiot, Zayn. Kid thought comedic wasn't a word, for chrissakes."
Zayn cracks a reluctant smile.
"You thought comedic wasn't a word," Zayn reminds him and Louis roughs up his hair.
"Details," he waves a hand, "Listen. I love you," he tells him again, "I know it's not enough but - "
"It's enough, Lou," Zayn cuts him off, overcome with how desperately he wants it to be true. He tightens his arms around the other boy. "It is."
"He's leaving," Louis says after a moment, pointing over Zayn's shoulder towards the far left of the room where Liam's heading for the door, the same boy wrapped around him.
The club's staff are redirecting Liam to what's probably a back exit and in that split second Zayn makes up his mind.
"Hold on," he says, disentangling himself from Louis, "I'm - "
He runs down the stairs and out to where he knows Liam is, hoping to catch them in time -
But Liam is pushing open the door to the club with an arm around the other boy and the boy's tongue in his ear and Zayn follows, hot at his heels.
"Liam - " he calls out but suddenly he's being blinded by camera lights and photographers are shouting questions and Zayn can only watch as Liam pales, face frozen in absolute horror.
"Liam Payne have you been gay this whole time?" shouts out a reporter over the din, and the nasty tone of his voice snaps Zayn out of it and he snarls, hands clenched tight in fists.
They say moments of crisis happen in slow motion, but for Zayn, everything happens at lightening speed. One moment, he's in the background, watching the reporters spew out questions and Liam's panic grow, and the next he's grabbing the boy's hand, tugging him away from Liam.
"He's with me," Zayn says, and then again, louder, "He's with me. I didn't want anyone to know because I didn't want Perrie to find out but. He's. He's with me." And a few cameras are going off but mostly everyone's just looking at him, as if unsure of whether to believe him or not so he does the only thing he can think of, he tugs the boy's head down and captures his lips in a kiss, dramatic and long and horrible and when it's done he pushes roughly through the crowd of papparazi, hand still clutching firmly at the stranger's, stopping only when they reach their car.
"Get in," he orders the boy, and the boy looks wide-eyed at him but obeys and when they're both in, Zayn slams the door shut against any reporters "Drive," he begs their driver, "Please Matt, get us out of here."
Matt nods, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror apologetically and Zayn nods his thanks at the sentiment. When they're moving he turns to the boy sitting next to him.
"I'm so sorry," he says, and there's no feeling behind his words, no feeling in him at all. Just a numbness and a ringing in his ears and. Fuck. What did he just do? "I'm. That wasn't supposed to happen, I - "
"Hey," the boy says, and Zayn closes his eyes against the kindness there because otherwise he thinks he'll be sick, "It's ok. It's fine. You're fine."
"Can I. Can I drop you off somewhere?"
"No just. As soon as we lose the reporters you can drop me off on a corner. My place is close by, we were gonna walk."
"Oh," and Zayn's stomach clenches, "Sorry," he manages.
"Don't be. At least I got a good kiss out of it," he winks and Zayn smiles thinly at him. "Here's fine," he tells the driver. "Good luck," he says softly, and then he's gone.
--
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