FIC: you burn me up bright and blow me out again zayn/liam
title you burn me up bright and blow me out again
author snuffleslove
pairing zayn/liam
rating light R
warnings slash, swearing, boys being boys, mentions of depression and appetitie loss
summary zayn is fading and the boys don't know why (zayn's POV)
written for this prompt! (my first prompt and i'm excited!)
Zayn could never be sure when it had actually started, but he was distinctly aware of when he finally became conscious of it. They were rehearsing for their next big show (London, Paris, did the location really matter? ) and the group had gotten a bit...bored, rehearsing the same songs over and over again. Energy levels had dropped drastically and Savan noticed and suddenly stopped them, mid-song. Harry, Louis and Niall looked at him nervously, but Zayn looked instantly towards Liam who smiled back at him, eyes easy. Zayn returned the grin and then turned to Savan.
"I want us to take a seat on the floor," he proclaimed. "That's it, cross your legs, close your eyes and breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth." Zayn rolled his eyes inwardly but did as he was told. Savan's voice continued soothingly, from a faraway place.
"I want you to imagine you're singing this song to someone you love," he said softly. "Someone whose never heard it before. Someone who doesn't understand how beautiful and important they are. Could be your SO or even your mom or sister...whoever you want. Focus on them, what you love about them..."
Zayn's thoughts immediately turned to his younger sister. He smiled softly as he remembered her frizzy long hair brushing against his cheek when she would climb into bed with him in the middle of the night, her voice soft and young and innocent. Going through middle school definitely couldn't be easy, especially, and he shifted guiltily, when her big brother was missing. He would sing to her, he decided.
When Savan instructed them to open their eyes, Zayn immediately did so, rejuvenated with energy. He glanced at Liam, whose eyes were still closed, breathing slow. Zayn would have thought he had fallen asleep except at that moment he breathed in deep, and then his eyes fluttered open and he met Zayn's stare. Zayn's breath caught in his throat. Liam's eyes, beautiful as always, were dark with intensity, slightly damp and sparkling in the light of the room. The weight of them on Zayn slammed him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He wondered who Liam had been thinking about and forced his features into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It must have been because Liam visibly relaxed, returning the smile with a small lopsided one of his own, before turning his attention to Savan.
Zayn couldn't keep his eyes off him for the rest of rehearsal.
--
He forced himself to acknowledge that there was shift in the way he saw Liam, hyper aware that his gaze often slipped to Liam's lips or that his pulse quickened when Liam rested an innocent hand on his thigh. He was conscious of the fact that the weight of Liam's arm around him meant much more to him than the other band mates' and that his stomach turned when anyone else was touching Liam. He couldn't just ignore his revelation, and besides, he was a sensible man, or so he liked to think - down to earth and level headed, though slightly short tempered. This was whatever. He's had feelings before. He'd just fight like hell to make sure everything stayed - normal.
And he did. He became overly bright in front of him and the rest of the group, laughing louder than before, and being more touchy than ever. He placed himself resolutely next to Liam, all the bloody time, putting his hand on his thigh, or grabbing on to him and laughing loudly, compensating for his new found anxiety towards his mate. Liam seemed not to notice anything and for a couple of weeks, everything was under control.
Until Liam started to respond. A squeeze to his shoulder, a fond gaze, his head against Zayn's chest, melting into him, body languid. His beautiful brown eyes sparing him intimate glances of warmth, like an inside joke between brothers. And as hard as Zayn tried, it became too exhausting, too painful to keep up the facade. He burned out slowly, like a candle extinguishing in a light wind, fading into himself. The energy of the group began to suffocate him and he spent more and more time to himself, skipping meals if it meant eating with a large group, and only coming out of his room for rehearsals. Sleep was his respite - a plausible excuse to avoid conversation and confrontation. He slept through plane rides, and on the tour bus, allowing his best friends to chalk up his new behavior to exhaustion. And it was still painful, when he sat opposite from Liam durning interviews, and watched him pull Niall close or glance lovingly at Louis. But Zayn could handle that.
He could.
--
Zayn sat at the end of the couch, watching Liam, propped up between Niall and Louis. He was talking, but Zayn couldn't focus on his words. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a proper meal, and the hunger pains were a constant reminder of it. He felt weak and desperately irritable and he just wanted out of this whole world, just for a day so he could catch his breath. The movement of Liam's lips drew him slightly from his stupor, and he wondered idly if the fans had put two and two together and realized that he had been Zayn's first kiss.
It's funny, he thinks, because he can barely remember it - it truly was a joke between friends. He recalls that Liam had swung his arms around his neck, when he had found out that Zayn had never been on an airplane before the tour.
"What else haven't you done, Malik?" he had asked teasingly. Malik had replied shortly.
"Well. Never been kissed." Liam's eyes had widened slightly in shock, and then he had leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Zayn's lips, pulling away, eyes dancing.
"There you go mate," he had announced. "Now you can't say I've never done anything for you." And Zayn had made a great show of thanking him, laughing heartily.
He remembered all those details, but the actual sensation of Liam's lips against his escaped him. He just hadn't thought much of it at the time, to be honest. Funny the way those things worked - now he could barely manage to think about anything else.
He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of Louis's rambunctious laughter. Apparently Liam was on a roll today because Louis swung both arms around him and borrowed his face into Liam's neck. Zayn clenched his fists involuntarily and looked away, straight into the gaze of Harry, sitting next to him. Harry raised a curious eyebrow at him and Zayn's stomach dropped. He wondered how much Harry had noticed. But Harry just smiled at him then, his eyes so full of honest love and Zayn just stared back, relief seeping through him. It must have shown on his face because Harry pulled Zayn towards him, resting Zayn's head on his chest and holding him tight. He suddenly had to fight back tears, (on national-fucking-tv) so grateful for the uncomplicated physical contact. Harry held him like that for the remainder of the interview and when it was over, he didn't let go. Instead, Louis latched onto his other side, and they made their way through the mob of fans. Without food, Zayn could barely handle the screaming girls as they made their way back to the vans unable to distinguish their shouts of adoration from nails on a chalkboard. He pressed close to Harry and Louis, leaning unashamedly on them, and they held him up with strong arms. When the three of them had settled in the car, Zayn turned to them, expecting them to say something, but Harry simply gave him a warm smile and put his hand on Zayn's thigh, while Louis roped his arm around him and pulled him close. Zayn slept.
--
He'd been expecting the knock on his door for awhile now, surprised it hadn't come sooner, in fact, but his stomach still gave a lurch when he opened the door to his hotel and found Liam standing there, dressed simply, but ready to go out.
"Hi," Liam grinned at him.
"Hi," he responded cautiously. They've spoken, he told himself. He's not being a bad friend or anything. It's not like he's ignoring Liam. They just...haven't spent any time alone together in well. In awhile. Still, Liam seemed thrown by his tone.
"Are you - are you coming to dinner then?"
"Nah, not hungry. Told Niall already."
"Right," Liam said. "Well. I could bring you back something. In case you get hungry later."
"You're a mate, Li, but I'm good, thanks." Zayn said.
"Well, alright then," he shrugged. "See you."
When Zayn shut the door his stomach grumbled fiercely.
He was lying in bed, hours later flipping blankly through the telly when he heard a another knock. Dragging up an excuse to send Liam away (he hated himself, but he really could not have that boy in his bed so late) he went to open the door only to find Louis there, grinning at him like a mad man.
"How are you love?" He smiled. "I brought back goodies." His grin slid off his face as his eyes tracked up and down Zayn' body. Zayn realized (too late, stupid stupid) that he should have had the sense to put a shirt on.
"Zayn," Louis whispered.
"What?" Zayn asked, temper lashing out, made worse by his constant hunger. He turned around, going to find a shirt, but Louis grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.
"Zayn," Louis demanded, voice stern. If anyone could match Zayn's temper, it was Louis. "Bloody hell, Zayn. You barely have wrists anymore, what the fuck?"
"I just haven't been hungry," Zayn lied. But his body betrayed him, stomach grumbling. Louis raised his eyebrows.
"What. The. Fuck. Zayn." Louis said pulling him closer with every word. "Have you looked at yourself recently?" he demanded. "You're wasting away. When's the last time you had a proper meal?"
Zayn hesitated, wanting to lie, but Louis's warm comforting body so close to his was demanding the truth, and Zayn was just so tired.
"I don't know," he choked out, avoiding eye contact.
"What is this about?" Louis asked, his voice was painfully gentle and Zayn was reminded suddenly of how much older he seemed. He couldn't answer, and the words remained trapped in his mouth.
"You're shaking, fuck. C'mere." Zayn moved into Louis's grasp easily, tension absolving slightly in his strong arms.
"Let me in, mate," he whispered fiercely into his ear. Zayn understood the implication but he played dumb, pulling away and standing aside so Louis could enter his room. He watched as Louis stepped past him, glancing almost desperately around the room as if he could find his answers there, before turning back to Zayn.
"Eat this," he said finally, holding up the bag of food in his hand once more. "Please?" Zayn nodded, couldn't resist it even if he wanted to. Louis settled on the bed and patted the space next to him, opening the container of penne that smelled delicious. Zayn sat beside him and Louis put a forkful of pasta in front of his mouth.
"Open up, big boy," he said, grinning. And you could barely detect the worry lines around his brow.
"Oh shove off," Zayn said, taking the fork into his own hand, but he was smiling. Louis shifted to lay his head on Zayn's lap and watched him eat every bite.
"Never thought I'd manage to get into your bed, Malik," voice full of bubbly mirth, and Zayn reckoned he had satisfied his mate, at least for now.
"And you'll be kicked off just as quickly as you got here," Zayn replied shortly, around a mouthful of pasta. Damn but this was good.
"Oi, but I bought you dinner so..." He waggled his eyebrows, and from his sideways position on Zayn's lap he looked absolutely ridiculous. Zayn laughed out loud, and Louis's face flooded with happiness. The sudden display of emotion startled Zayn, and he quieted.
"Zayn..." Louis trailed off. He shifted so he was sitting up, and brought his arm around Zayn, pulling him as close as physically possible.
"Louis, bugger off, I can't eat like this," Zayn whined, but Louis did not loosen his grip. He kissed the top of Zayn's head and Zayn looked at him, rolled his eyes half heartedly. "Louis, I'm fine, really. Don't worry."
"You're not fine, Zayn. You're not. You're a shell of what you used to be. And I don't know what it is, but -" His voice cut off when he heard the door open.
"Vas happenin'" Louis asked Liam, smile returning. But Liam ignored him. Zayn turned to see Liam standing there, his eyes dropped to the tray of food in Zayn's lap back up to where Zayn was still resting comfortably on Louis.
"Li?" Louis asked, confused. Liam seemed to visibly shake himself.
"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't realize...sorry." And he left the room quickly, the door banging shut on his way out.
"What the fuck was that?" Louis asked, wonderingly. Zayn shrugged.
"He came by before, asking if he could bring me back food tonight, and I told him I didn't want any. I don't know." Louis laughed out loud.
"You guys are women," he said, ruffling Zayn's hair affectionately (Zayn groaned in protest). "I'll just go set it straight OK mate?" Zayn couldn't ask, obviously. Didn't want to, and couldn't get the words out of his mouth even if he did, but he gripped Louis's shirt just a little tighter and Louis said nothing, but he stayed put.
"Sleep, Zayn, you must be exhausted," Louis murmured. "Eating can really tire a man out." Zayn couldn't even laugh, he really was exhausted. He closed his eyes against the world for a moment.
--
When Zayn woke, he was caught off guard by the presence of sweatpant-covered knees right in his face. He looked up to find Liam there, leaning against the headboard, eyes closed, legs stretched out.
"The fuck. Liam?" He asked, voice clouded with sleep and bloody hell but Liam was in his bed, hair mussed, baggy eyes, and probably awful morning breath. But. In his bed.
"Ey. Morning,"
"Did you. Fuck, did you sleep like that?"
"What? No, sorry. Couldn't sleep and Louis let me in and left. Sorry."
"No it's alright, just. Well that couldn't have been very comfortable."
"S'fine."
Zayn dragged himself up into a sitting position and attempted a grin, drawing the comforters around him a bit self-consciously and trying to ignore Liam's warm body so close to his.
"Slept better than I have in days," he said, forcing his voice to sound casual.
"Yeah, well. S'probably because that's the first meal you've had in days," retorted Liam. Then he bit his tongue. "Sorry." He reached out to touch Zayn's arm, but Zayn shifted away instinctively. Upon seeing the look on Liam's face, he instantly regretted it.
"Fuck, sorry Li, didn't mean to. Shit. Come here." Liam looked up at him, hesitated, but then moved closer, so Zayn could put his arm around him. Liam's soft curls tickled his shoulder, smelling sweetly familiar and Zayn couldn't help himself, he nuzzled into them. His heartbeat quickened as Liam settled furthur into his bare chest, eyes fluttering closed.
His body was on fire.
"Why couldn't you sleep last night?" attempting to focus on something other than the way Liam seemed to be trying to get as close to his as possible.
"I think Niall brought someone home," Liam laughed. "She seemed to look exactly like Demi." Zayn was surprised at the bark of laughter that came from his own mouth.
"So what does that have to do with - ah fuck, forget I asked." Zayn shook his head comically.
"S'that Irish charm," Liam declared solemnly. "The women literally chuck their panties at him when he walks into the room." Zayn chuckled quietly.
"Missed you," Liam said after a moment. Zayn, who had been watching his hands worry a knot in the comforter, looked up to stare at the top of the other boy's head.
"Liam," Zayn said, voice bordering on exasperated. "You literally see me -"
"Don't give me that bollocks," he interrupted, eyes flashing when he looked up at Zayn. "You haven't been here for weeks now. And well." He looked away. "It's affecting the band." Zayn snorted.
"No it's not."
"It is."
"Li - " but Liam looked at him then, and Zayn couldn't decipher the look in his eyes but it reminded him that this was Liam. The Liam who had been there for him through thick and thin, through months of changes, adjustments, a fucking whirlwind of challenges. "I'm right here," Zayn said, and he meant it. And he thought Liam understood that because he closed his eyes and leaned back again, melting into Zayn's body. Zayn felt him relax completely and he shivered slightly from the desire that coursed through him.
"Cold?" Liam asked. Zayn didn't trust himself to speak. Liam put his arm around Zayn's stomach then, rubbing what Zayn was sure he thought were soothing circles into his hipbone with his thumb, the nail occasionally catching lightly against the smooth skin. Zayn fought the urge to either push him away completely or crash their lips together.
"I should - I should shower," he managed to choke out.
"Yeah. We've got rehearsal in a bit."
"Yeah." Fuck. Zayn couldn't hold out any longer. He cupped the hand that was on his hip in what he hoped was a gentle manner and stilled it. "Go on. Can't have Daddy Direction being late now can we?" Liam smiled at him and gingerly detached himself. (God, but Zayn already missed him.)
He crumpled, after Liam left, adrenaline and want still coursing through his veins. There had to be a better way to deal with all of this.
--
Niall gave him the solution unsuspectingly. The rest of the boys were sitting in the cramped common area of the tour bus, but Zayn had pleaded exhaustion and had gotten into bed. As he passed the area where his mates were sitting, he heard Niall's voice, smooth and slurred by the alcohol saying "no better comfort than a warm body in bed."
The idea hit Zayn like it had fallen from the sky.
--
He never thought it would be so easy. Go out, dress a bit differently, give a different name, sit at the bar. It wasn't something he usually did, even back home. He started with girls. First he attempted to make small talk, compliments, interests, etc, but he soon found that even that was unnecessary. Just turn on a bit of the smolder and they were his. What a fucking trip. Wasn't until he was pushed into some guy who turned and gave him the once over before raising his eyebrows in invitation did he start picking up men. He didn't question it though. It was always the same anyway. Teasing foreplay at the club, hot fast anonymous fucking in his bed, a fag at 3 am when he snuck them out and a few hours of sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was perfect - after a good fuck he was too tired to pay attention to the way Liam made his heart beat a little faster.
--
Ironically, Niall was the one who caught him too, though it was Zayn's fault.
He'd been pounding into the man below him, groaning as he stroked his cock in time with his thrusts. The man - John? Eric? - was moaning, loud and low, rocking his hips to meet Zayn halfway and Zayn was close. Suddenly the stranger opened his eyes, illuminated by a nearby streetlamp, and fuck they weren't quite as beautiful, but they were the exact same shade of brown and Zayn's orgasm was pulled from him almost painfully. He came with a sob, broken, collapsing on the man in front of him, barely able to finish him off. Afterwards he had opened his eyes, cheeks damp, but he couldn't look at the man, he rolled over on his side and passed out, raw.
When he woke up early sunlight was streaming through his window and there was a stranger in his bed. Fuck. He checked his phone - 6:30 am. Still early, might be alright. He roused the other man, muttering apologies, explaining softly. The man nodded and gathered his things.
Zayn opened his door cautiously, checking that coast was clear before ushering him outside his room and towards the back door.
"Zayn?" Niall's voice cracked from disuse. Fuck.
"Shh. Hold on," he said, when he saw the man's eyebrows raise. Pretty sure he had introduced himself as Thomas or some shit last night. He saw the man out, thanked him (things were so much more awkward in the day time) and then turned to face his mate.
"Zayn? Who was that?"
"Err. Don't really remember," Zayn muttered. Niall's eyes widened in understanding.
"But we didn't even know you were -"
"Yeah, neither did I." Zayn knew he owed his mate the truth. Bringing a stranger back into his bed in the middle of the night, especially a man was - dangerous, and could affect the reputation of the whole band. Zayn was risking everything, and Niall deserved an explanation.
"You could have told us," Niall said, voice softening.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"S'alright. But Zayn...you can't -"
"I know."
--
They sent Harry, or so he thought, when Styles showed up at his room.
"Nah, I chose to come," Harry said, sitting close to him and lacing their fingers together. Oh. So it didn't change that much.
"Why?"
"Because I know," Harry said simply. Zayn furrowed his brow.
"Yeah I think you all do now," Zayn said. unable to help the small blush that crept to his cheeks
"I know about Liam, Zayn," Harry said gently. Oh. Oh. Jesus.
"How?" Harry shrugged, suddenly managing to look very young and very wise at the same time.
"Shit."
"Yeah," and then- "You should tell him."
"What?" Zayn's eyes widened, and if he didn't need Harry's touch as much he would have pulled away and ran.
"He deserves to know, and you're not lying to him exactly, but it's pretty much the same thing, Zayner."
"It'll change everything. There'll be tension. The fans will notice."
"There's already tension, don't think we haven't caught on. And I love the fans, and they mean the world to me. But it's not about them right now."
"I'm fine, Harry."
"What the fuck does that even mean, Malik?" Harry asked, a ripple of anger breaking through. "We don't even see you until we're in rehearsal or on stage. You haven't eaten a meal with us in ages. You're either in your room or picking up guys off the streets. And you're keeping secrets." Zayn did pull away this time, hands clenched in fists. He watched as Harry physically pulled himself together.
"I know how you feel, Zayn," his voice quiet.
"No you don't," he replied bitterly.
"Yes, I do." He touched Zayn's arm gently, and Zayn looked up into Harry's eyes. They seemed to be begging him to - Zayn's eyes widened.
"What?!" he exclaimed. Harry looked down.
"Don't make me say it," he mumbled. Zayn stared at him.
"Louis?" he whispered. Harry nodded.
"But I thought -"
"Yeah, me too."
"And now - ?"
"And now." He sighed and gave Zayn a lopsided smile that drew Zayn to him, melding their bodies together, offering him silent comfort.
"We're all bloody mad," Zayn said after a moment. Harry smiled at him ruefully.
"Completely mental."
--
Zayn had just taken his first drag on the cigarette when he heard the door open and close.
"You really should quit, you know. Slow death and all that." Zayn ignored him. He needed this cigarette. He hadn't realized he had developed another addiction, but he hadn't had a good fuck in a week and his body was trembling. He fucking needed this cigarette, OK? Liam leaned against the wall next to him.
"Come back to me, Zayn," he whispered. Zayn's chest constricted painfully. He took another drag on the cigarette.
"Please?" Zayn finally turned to him. Liam looked perfect in the early morning sun.
"Fuck off," he said, voice laced with malice that came from nowhere and just grew.
"What?"
"Fuck. Off. What the fuck do you know anyway? Golden boy, beautiful, sensible, perfect Liam, with the perfect voice and the perfect hair and the fucking -" He threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out angrily.
"Shut up," growled Liam. "You have no right - you don't know a thing about me. You haven't - you don't know one bloody thing about me anymore, Malik, so don't you dare say anything to me," and Liam shoved him against the wall. Zayn stared at him, wide-eyed. It hadn't been particularly rough, but it was the first time he had seen any of his band mates raise a hand to another with bad intent. The contact infuriated Zayn and before he could think he had fisted his hands in Liam's shirt and pushed him back into the wall, their bodies entirely to close to handle. He looked up at the slightly taller boy expecting fear but instead he saw a furious stubbornness, a refusal to give up on him and Zayn couldn't help himself. He brought their lips together, rough and raw, kissing him like it was his last moment in this godforsaken place, moaning softly when Liam began to kiss back, bringing his hands to rest on Zayn's hips. The pressure brought Zayn back to himself, and he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against Liam's, looking down. His hands dropped from Liam's shirt to lie awkwardly at his sides. He took a deep breath, trying to find the control to move away from him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. Liam moved his large hands to cup Zayn's face and turned it towards him, but Zayn refused to look at him, afraid of what he would see in those eyes.
"That's what all this is about?" Liam asked gently. Zayn wished he could stop himself from trembling.
"I'm sorry," he said again. I love you.
"You - you don't have to apologize. I didn't realize you felt this way, that's all."
"Yeah. Sorry." Liam let out a small laugh.
"Don't be. I'm relieved. I thought - well. Not this anyway."
"Yeah."
"We should just make sure we take things slow." Zayn's head snapped up.
"What?" Liam's eyes danced with warmth and happiness and a bit of mischief.
"Slow, Malik. We have to take things slow."
"W - we?" Liam chewed his bottom lip, choosing his words carefully.
"I never thought about it. I mean, I had always assumed you were straight and when Niall - well. I just never allowed myself to think - but. I love you, Zayn. I want to -" He hesitated, and then placed a chaste kiss on Zayn's lips. "I want to try this. Us. Can we -?"
Zayn swallowed his last words with a kiss, overcome. He pressed him into the wall, moving close, kissing him as gently as possible, one hand reaching back to play with his curls, cupping his head lightly. Liam tentatively licked his lower lip, and Zayn opened his mouth allowing Liam's tongue to enter, a sweet and slow exploration of each other. They pulled away and Zayn grinned at him, reaching up to push his hair gently away from his brown eyes. Liam laughed, breathless and giddy.
"Maybe not too slow."
fin.
author snuffleslove
pairing zayn/liam
rating light R
warnings slash, swearing, boys being boys, mentions of depression and appetitie loss
summary zayn is fading and the boys don't know why (zayn's POV)
written for this prompt! (my first prompt and i'm excited!)
Zayn could never be sure when it had actually started, but he was distinctly aware of when he finally became conscious of it. They were rehearsing for their next big show (London, Paris, did the location really matter? ) and the group had gotten a bit...bored, rehearsing the same songs over and over again. Energy levels had dropped drastically and Savan noticed and suddenly stopped them, mid-song. Harry, Louis and Niall looked at him nervously, but Zayn looked instantly towards Liam who smiled back at him, eyes easy. Zayn returned the grin and then turned to Savan.
"I want us to take a seat on the floor," he proclaimed. "That's it, cross your legs, close your eyes and breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth." Zayn rolled his eyes inwardly but did as he was told. Savan's voice continued soothingly, from a faraway place.
"I want you to imagine you're singing this song to someone you love," he said softly. "Someone whose never heard it before. Someone who doesn't understand how beautiful and important they are. Could be your SO or even your mom or sister...whoever you want. Focus on them, what you love about them..."
Zayn's thoughts immediately turned to his younger sister. He smiled softly as he remembered her frizzy long hair brushing against his cheek when she would climb into bed with him in the middle of the night, her voice soft and young and innocent. Going through middle school definitely couldn't be easy, especially, and he shifted guiltily, when her big brother was missing. He would sing to her, he decided.
When Savan instructed them to open their eyes, Zayn immediately did so, rejuvenated with energy. He glanced at Liam, whose eyes were still closed, breathing slow. Zayn would have thought he had fallen asleep except at that moment he breathed in deep, and then his eyes fluttered open and he met Zayn's stare. Zayn's breath caught in his throat. Liam's eyes, beautiful as always, were dark with intensity, slightly damp and sparkling in the light of the room. The weight of them on Zayn slammed him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He wondered who Liam had been thinking about and forced his features into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It must have been because Liam visibly relaxed, returning the smile with a small lopsided one of his own, before turning his attention to Savan.
Zayn couldn't keep his eyes off him for the rest of rehearsal.
--
He forced himself to acknowledge that there was shift in the way he saw Liam, hyper aware that his gaze often slipped to Liam's lips or that his pulse quickened when Liam rested an innocent hand on his thigh. He was conscious of the fact that the weight of Liam's arm around him meant much more to him than the other band mates' and that his stomach turned when anyone else was touching Liam. He couldn't just ignore his revelation, and besides, he was a sensible man, or so he liked to think - down to earth and level headed, though slightly short tempered. This was whatever. He's had feelings before. He'd just fight like hell to make sure everything stayed - normal.
And he did. He became overly bright in front of him and the rest of the group, laughing louder than before, and being more touchy than ever. He placed himself resolutely next to Liam, all the bloody time, putting his hand on his thigh, or grabbing on to him and laughing loudly, compensating for his new found anxiety towards his mate. Liam seemed not to notice anything and for a couple of weeks, everything was under control.
Until Liam started to respond. A squeeze to his shoulder, a fond gaze, his head against Zayn's chest, melting into him, body languid. His beautiful brown eyes sparing him intimate glances of warmth, like an inside joke between brothers. And as hard as Zayn tried, it became too exhausting, too painful to keep up the facade. He burned out slowly, like a candle extinguishing in a light wind, fading into himself. The energy of the group began to suffocate him and he spent more and more time to himself, skipping meals if it meant eating with a large group, and only coming out of his room for rehearsals. Sleep was his respite - a plausible excuse to avoid conversation and confrontation. He slept through plane rides, and on the tour bus, allowing his best friends to chalk up his new behavior to exhaustion. And it was still painful, when he sat opposite from Liam durning interviews, and watched him pull Niall close or glance lovingly at Louis. But Zayn could handle that.
He could.
--
Zayn sat at the end of the couch, watching Liam, propped up between Niall and Louis. He was talking, but Zayn couldn't focus on his words. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a proper meal, and the hunger pains were a constant reminder of it. He felt weak and desperately irritable and he just wanted out of this whole world, just for a day so he could catch his breath. The movement of Liam's lips drew him slightly from his stupor, and he wondered idly if the fans had put two and two together and realized that he had been Zayn's first kiss.
It's funny, he thinks, because he can barely remember it - it truly was a joke between friends. He recalls that Liam had swung his arms around his neck, when he had found out that Zayn had never been on an airplane before the tour.
"What else haven't you done, Malik?" he had asked teasingly. Malik had replied shortly.
"Well. Never been kissed." Liam's eyes had widened slightly in shock, and then he had leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Zayn's lips, pulling away, eyes dancing.
"There you go mate," he had announced. "Now you can't say I've never done anything for you." And Zayn had made a great show of thanking him, laughing heartily.
He remembered all those details, but the actual sensation of Liam's lips against his escaped him. He just hadn't thought much of it at the time, to be honest. Funny the way those things worked - now he could barely manage to think about anything else.
He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of Louis's rambunctious laughter. Apparently Liam was on a roll today because Louis swung both arms around him and borrowed his face into Liam's neck. Zayn clenched his fists involuntarily and looked away, straight into the gaze of Harry, sitting next to him. Harry raised a curious eyebrow at him and Zayn's stomach dropped. He wondered how much Harry had noticed. But Harry just smiled at him then, his eyes so full of honest love and Zayn just stared back, relief seeping through him. It must have shown on his face because Harry pulled Zayn towards him, resting Zayn's head on his chest and holding him tight. He suddenly had to fight back tears, (on national-fucking-tv) so grateful for the uncomplicated physical contact. Harry held him like that for the remainder of the interview and when it was over, he didn't let go. Instead, Louis latched onto his other side, and they made their way through the mob of fans. Without food, Zayn could barely handle the screaming girls as they made their way back to the vans unable to distinguish their shouts of adoration from nails on a chalkboard. He pressed close to Harry and Louis, leaning unashamedly on them, and they held him up with strong arms. When the three of them had settled in the car, Zayn turned to them, expecting them to say something, but Harry simply gave him a warm smile and put his hand on Zayn's thigh, while Louis roped his arm around him and pulled him close. Zayn slept.
--
He'd been expecting the knock on his door for awhile now, surprised it hadn't come sooner, in fact, but his stomach still gave a lurch when he opened the door to his hotel and found Liam standing there, dressed simply, but ready to go out.
"Hi," Liam grinned at him.
"Hi," he responded cautiously. They've spoken, he told himself. He's not being a bad friend or anything. It's not like he's ignoring Liam. They just...haven't spent any time alone together in well. In awhile. Still, Liam seemed thrown by his tone.
"Are you - are you coming to dinner then?"
"Nah, not hungry. Told Niall already."
"Right," Liam said. "Well. I could bring you back something. In case you get hungry later."
"You're a mate, Li, but I'm good, thanks." Zayn said.
"Well, alright then," he shrugged. "See you."
When Zayn shut the door his stomach grumbled fiercely.
He was lying in bed, hours later flipping blankly through the telly when he heard a another knock. Dragging up an excuse to send Liam away (he hated himself, but he really could not have that boy in his bed so late) he went to open the door only to find Louis there, grinning at him like a mad man.
"How are you love?" He smiled. "I brought back goodies." His grin slid off his face as his eyes tracked up and down Zayn' body. Zayn realized (too late, stupid stupid) that he should have had the sense to put a shirt on.
"Zayn," Louis whispered.
"What?" Zayn asked, temper lashing out, made worse by his constant hunger. He turned around, going to find a shirt, but Louis grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.
"Zayn," Louis demanded, voice stern. If anyone could match Zayn's temper, it was Louis. "Bloody hell, Zayn. You barely have wrists anymore, what the fuck?"
"I just haven't been hungry," Zayn lied. But his body betrayed him, stomach grumbling. Louis raised his eyebrows.
"What. The. Fuck. Zayn." Louis said pulling him closer with every word. "Have you looked at yourself recently?" he demanded. "You're wasting away. When's the last time you had a proper meal?"
Zayn hesitated, wanting to lie, but Louis's warm comforting body so close to his was demanding the truth, and Zayn was just so tired.
"I don't know," he choked out, avoiding eye contact.
"What is this about?" Louis asked, his voice was painfully gentle and Zayn was reminded suddenly of how much older he seemed. He couldn't answer, and the words remained trapped in his mouth.
"You're shaking, fuck. C'mere." Zayn moved into Louis's grasp easily, tension absolving slightly in his strong arms.
"Let me in, mate," he whispered fiercely into his ear. Zayn understood the implication but he played dumb, pulling away and standing aside so Louis could enter his room. He watched as Louis stepped past him, glancing almost desperately around the room as if he could find his answers there, before turning back to Zayn.
"Eat this," he said finally, holding up the bag of food in his hand once more. "Please?" Zayn nodded, couldn't resist it even if he wanted to. Louis settled on the bed and patted the space next to him, opening the container of penne that smelled delicious. Zayn sat beside him and Louis put a forkful of pasta in front of his mouth.
"Open up, big boy," he said, grinning. And you could barely detect the worry lines around his brow.
"Oh shove off," Zayn said, taking the fork into his own hand, but he was smiling. Louis shifted to lay his head on Zayn's lap and watched him eat every bite.
"Never thought I'd manage to get into your bed, Malik," voice full of bubbly mirth, and Zayn reckoned he had satisfied his mate, at least for now.
"And you'll be kicked off just as quickly as you got here," Zayn replied shortly, around a mouthful of pasta. Damn but this was good.
"Oi, but I bought you dinner so..." He waggled his eyebrows, and from his sideways position on Zayn's lap he looked absolutely ridiculous. Zayn laughed out loud, and Louis's face flooded with happiness. The sudden display of emotion startled Zayn, and he quieted.
"Zayn..." Louis trailed off. He shifted so he was sitting up, and brought his arm around Zayn, pulling him as close as physically possible.
"Louis, bugger off, I can't eat like this," Zayn whined, but Louis did not loosen his grip. He kissed the top of Zayn's head and Zayn looked at him, rolled his eyes half heartedly. "Louis, I'm fine, really. Don't worry."
"You're not fine, Zayn. You're not. You're a shell of what you used to be. And I don't know what it is, but -" His voice cut off when he heard the door open.
"Vas happenin'" Louis asked Liam, smile returning. But Liam ignored him. Zayn turned to see Liam standing there, his eyes dropped to the tray of food in Zayn's lap back up to where Zayn was still resting comfortably on Louis.
"Li?" Louis asked, confused. Liam seemed to visibly shake himself.
"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't realize...sorry." And he left the room quickly, the door banging shut on his way out.
"What the fuck was that?" Louis asked, wonderingly. Zayn shrugged.
"He came by before, asking if he could bring me back food tonight, and I told him I didn't want any. I don't know." Louis laughed out loud.
"You guys are women," he said, ruffling Zayn's hair affectionately (Zayn groaned in protest). "I'll just go set it straight OK mate?" Zayn couldn't ask, obviously. Didn't want to, and couldn't get the words out of his mouth even if he did, but he gripped Louis's shirt just a little tighter and Louis said nothing, but he stayed put.
"Sleep, Zayn, you must be exhausted," Louis murmured. "Eating can really tire a man out." Zayn couldn't even laugh, he really was exhausted. He closed his eyes against the world for a moment.
--
When Zayn woke, he was caught off guard by the presence of sweatpant-covered knees right in his face. He looked up to find Liam there, leaning against the headboard, eyes closed, legs stretched out.
"The fuck. Liam?" He asked, voice clouded with sleep and bloody hell but Liam was in his bed, hair mussed, baggy eyes, and probably awful morning breath. But. In his bed.
"Ey. Morning,"
"Did you. Fuck, did you sleep like that?"
"What? No, sorry. Couldn't sleep and Louis let me in and left. Sorry."
"No it's alright, just. Well that couldn't have been very comfortable."
"S'fine."
Zayn dragged himself up into a sitting position and attempted a grin, drawing the comforters around him a bit self-consciously and trying to ignore Liam's warm body so close to his.
"Slept better than I have in days," he said, forcing his voice to sound casual.
"Yeah, well. S'probably because that's the first meal you've had in days," retorted Liam. Then he bit his tongue. "Sorry." He reached out to touch Zayn's arm, but Zayn shifted away instinctively. Upon seeing the look on Liam's face, he instantly regretted it.
"Fuck, sorry Li, didn't mean to. Shit. Come here." Liam looked up at him, hesitated, but then moved closer, so Zayn could put his arm around him. Liam's soft curls tickled his shoulder, smelling sweetly familiar and Zayn couldn't help himself, he nuzzled into them. His heartbeat quickened as Liam settled furthur into his bare chest, eyes fluttering closed.
His body was on fire.
"Why couldn't you sleep last night?" attempting to focus on something other than the way Liam seemed to be trying to get as close to his as possible.
"I think Niall brought someone home," Liam laughed. "She seemed to look exactly like Demi." Zayn was surprised at the bark of laughter that came from his own mouth.
"So what does that have to do with - ah fuck, forget I asked." Zayn shook his head comically.
"S'that Irish charm," Liam declared solemnly. "The women literally chuck their panties at him when he walks into the room." Zayn chuckled quietly.
"Missed you," Liam said after a moment. Zayn, who had been watching his hands worry a knot in the comforter, looked up to stare at the top of the other boy's head.
"Liam," Zayn said, voice bordering on exasperated. "You literally see me -"
"Don't give me that bollocks," he interrupted, eyes flashing when he looked up at Zayn. "You haven't been here for weeks now. And well." He looked away. "It's affecting the band." Zayn snorted.
"No it's not."
"It is."
"Li - " but Liam looked at him then, and Zayn couldn't decipher the look in his eyes but it reminded him that this was Liam. The Liam who had been there for him through thick and thin, through months of changes, adjustments, a fucking whirlwind of challenges. "I'm right here," Zayn said, and he meant it. And he thought Liam understood that because he closed his eyes and leaned back again, melting into Zayn's body. Zayn felt him relax completely and he shivered slightly from the desire that coursed through him.
"Cold?" Liam asked. Zayn didn't trust himself to speak. Liam put his arm around Zayn's stomach then, rubbing what Zayn was sure he thought were soothing circles into his hipbone with his thumb, the nail occasionally catching lightly against the smooth skin. Zayn fought the urge to either push him away completely or crash their lips together.
"I should - I should shower," he managed to choke out.
"Yeah. We've got rehearsal in a bit."
"Yeah." Fuck. Zayn couldn't hold out any longer. He cupped the hand that was on his hip in what he hoped was a gentle manner and stilled it. "Go on. Can't have Daddy Direction being late now can we?" Liam smiled at him and gingerly detached himself. (God, but Zayn already missed him.)
He crumpled, after Liam left, adrenaline and want still coursing through his veins. There had to be a better way to deal with all of this.
--
Niall gave him the solution unsuspectingly. The rest of the boys were sitting in the cramped common area of the tour bus, but Zayn had pleaded exhaustion and had gotten into bed. As he passed the area where his mates were sitting, he heard Niall's voice, smooth and slurred by the alcohol saying "no better comfort than a warm body in bed."
The idea hit Zayn like it had fallen from the sky.
--
He never thought it would be so easy. Go out, dress a bit differently, give a different name, sit at the bar. It wasn't something he usually did, even back home. He started with girls. First he attempted to make small talk, compliments, interests, etc, but he soon found that even that was unnecessary. Just turn on a bit of the smolder and they were his. What a fucking trip. Wasn't until he was pushed into some guy who turned and gave him the once over before raising his eyebrows in invitation did he start picking up men. He didn't question it though. It was always the same anyway. Teasing foreplay at the club, hot fast anonymous fucking in his bed, a fag at 3 am when he snuck them out and a few hours of sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was perfect - after a good fuck he was too tired to pay attention to the way Liam made his heart beat a little faster.
--
Ironically, Niall was the one who caught him too, though it was Zayn's fault.
He'd been pounding into the man below him, groaning as he stroked his cock in time with his thrusts. The man - John? Eric? - was moaning, loud and low, rocking his hips to meet Zayn halfway and Zayn was close. Suddenly the stranger opened his eyes, illuminated by a nearby streetlamp, and fuck they weren't quite as beautiful, but they were the exact same shade of brown and Zayn's orgasm was pulled from him almost painfully. He came with a sob, broken, collapsing on the man in front of him, barely able to finish him off. Afterwards he had opened his eyes, cheeks damp, but he couldn't look at the man, he rolled over on his side and passed out, raw.
When he woke up early sunlight was streaming through his window and there was a stranger in his bed. Fuck. He checked his phone - 6:30 am. Still early, might be alright. He roused the other man, muttering apologies, explaining softly. The man nodded and gathered his things.
Zayn opened his door cautiously, checking that coast was clear before ushering him outside his room and towards the back door.
"Zayn?" Niall's voice cracked from disuse. Fuck.
"Shh. Hold on," he said, when he saw the man's eyebrows raise. Pretty sure he had introduced himself as Thomas or some shit last night. He saw the man out, thanked him (things were so much more awkward in the day time) and then turned to face his mate.
"Zayn? Who was that?"
"Err. Don't really remember," Zayn muttered. Niall's eyes widened in understanding.
"But we didn't even know you were -"
"Yeah, neither did I." Zayn knew he owed his mate the truth. Bringing a stranger back into his bed in the middle of the night, especially a man was - dangerous, and could affect the reputation of the whole band. Zayn was risking everything, and Niall deserved an explanation.
"You could have told us," Niall said, voice softening.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"S'alright. But Zayn...you can't -"
"I know."
--
They sent Harry, or so he thought, when Styles showed up at his room.
"Nah, I chose to come," Harry said, sitting close to him and lacing their fingers together. Oh. So it didn't change that much.
"Why?"
"Because I know," Harry said simply. Zayn furrowed his brow.
"Yeah I think you all do now," Zayn said. unable to help the small blush that crept to his cheeks
"I know about Liam, Zayn," Harry said gently. Oh. Oh. Jesus.
"How?" Harry shrugged, suddenly managing to look very young and very wise at the same time.
"Shit."
"Yeah," and then- "You should tell him."
"What?" Zayn's eyes widened, and if he didn't need Harry's touch as much he would have pulled away and ran.
"He deserves to know, and you're not lying to him exactly, but it's pretty much the same thing, Zayner."
"It'll change everything. There'll be tension. The fans will notice."
"There's already tension, don't think we haven't caught on. And I love the fans, and they mean the world to me. But it's not about them right now."
"I'm fine, Harry."
"What the fuck does that even mean, Malik?" Harry asked, a ripple of anger breaking through. "We don't even see you until we're in rehearsal or on stage. You haven't eaten a meal with us in ages. You're either in your room or picking up guys off the streets. And you're keeping secrets." Zayn did pull away this time, hands clenched in fists. He watched as Harry physically pulled himself together.
"I know how you feel, Zayn," his voice quiet.
"No you don't," he replied bitterly.
"Yes, I do." He touched Zayn's arm gently, and Zayn looked up into Harry's eyes. They seemed to be begging him to - Zayn's eyes widened.
"What?!" he exclaimed. Harry looked down.
"Don't make me say it," he mumbled. Zayn stared at him.
"Louis?" he whispered. Harry nodded.
"But I thought -"
"Yeah, me too."
"And now - ?"
"And now." He sighed and gave Zayn a lopsided smile that drew Zayn to him, melding their bodies together, offering him silent comfort.
"We're all bloody mad," Zayn said after a moment. Harry smiled at him ruefully.
"Completely mental."
--
Zayn had just taken his first drag on the cigarette when he heard the door open and close.
"You really should quit, you know. Slow death and all that." Zayn ignored him. He needed this cigarette. He hadn't realized he had developed another addiction, but he hadn't had a good fuck in a week and his body was trembling. He fucking needed this cigarette, OK? Liam leaned against the wall next to him.
"Come back to me, Zayn," he whispered. Zayn's chest constricted painfully. He took another drag on the cigarette.
"Please?" Zayn finally turned to him. Liam looked perfect in the early morning sun.
"Fuck off," he said, voice laced with malice that came from nowhere and just grew.
"What?"
"Fuck. Off. What the fuck do you know anyway? Golden boy, beautiful, sensible, perfect Liam, with the perfect voice and the perfect hair and the fucking -" He threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out angrily.
"Shut up," growled Liam. "You have no right - you don't know a thing about me. You haven't - you don't know one bloody thing about me anymore, Malik, so don't you dare say anything to me," and Liam shoved him against the wall. Zayn stared at him, wide-eyed. It hadn't been particularly rough, but it was the first time he had seen any of his band mates raise a hand to another with bad intent. The contact infuriated Zayn and before he could think he had fisted his hands in Liam's shirt and pushed him back into the wall, their bodies entirely to close to handle. He looked up at the slightly taller boy expecting fear but instead he saw a furious stubbornness, a refusal to give up on him and Zayn couldn't help himself. He brought their lips together, rough and raw, kissing him like it was his last moment in this godforsaken place, moaning softly when Liam began to kiss back, bringing his hands to rest on Zayn's hips. The pressure brought Zayn back to himself, and he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against Liam's, looking down. His hands dropped from Liam's shirt to lie awkwardly at his sides. He took a deep breath, trying to find the control to move away from him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. Liam moved his large hands to cup Zayn's face and turned it towards him, but Zayn refused to look at him, afraid of what he would see in those eyes.
"That's what all this is about?" Liam asked gently. Zayn wished he could stop himself from trembling.
"I'm sorry," he said again. I love you.
"You - you don't have to apologize. I didn't realize you felt this way, that's all."
"Yeah. Sorry." Liam let out a small laugh.
"Don't be. I'm relieved. I thought - well. Not this anyway."
"Yeah."
"We should just make sure we take things slow." Zayn's head snapped up.
"What?" Liam's eyes danced with warmth and happiness and a bit of mischief.
"Slow, Malik. We have to take things slow."
"W - we?" Liam chewed his bottom lip, choosing his words carefully.
"I never thought about it. I mean, I had always assumed you were straight and when Niall - well. I just never allowed myself to think - but. I love you, Zayn. I want to -" He hesitated, and then placed a chaste kiss on Zayn's lips. "I want to try this. Us. Can we -?"
Zayn swallowed his last words with a kiss, overcome. He pressed him into the wall, moving close, kissing him as gently as possible, one hand reaching back to play with his curls, cupping his head lightly. Liam tentatively licked his lower lip, and Zayn opened his mouth allowing Liam's tongue to enter, a sweet and slow exploration of each other. They pulled away and Zayn grinned at him, reaching up to push his hair gently away from his brown eyes. Liam laughed, breathless and giddy.
"Maybe not too slow."
fin.