Archive of Our Own

“Lieutenant! Lieutenant Payne! Respond, now!”

Chief O’Brien’s voice rang in Zayn’s ears, the command almost strong enough to mask the underlying panic. Zayn couldn’t remember ever hearing the man bark orders like that, with that tinge of desperation at the end of each sentence. It was terrifying; it was not helping his own fear as he clutched his medic bag, eyes fixed on the building’s entrance.

“Lieutenant! Evacuate, now! The building’s about to give! It’s an order!”

Zayn’s fingers were dark with ash and dust when he tried to wipe tears off his face. Maybe the rest of the guys would think that’s why he was crying, right? No one had to know that it was because he barely blinked as he watched the factory’s door as if he could magically will Liam to come walking out of it, engulfed in smoke and flames, but alive.

“Come on… come on, come on, baby, please; come out, please, please, please…” He muttered the words between his teeth, just in case. The rest of the squad was already out, and while many of them were being treated or were still working to put out the flames, a handful were standing by Zayn’s side, waiting, just like him.

It was instinct for him, whispering, hiding the term of endearment, hiding his heart. No one knew what Zayn felt. No one in that moment knew what it was like; fearing the love of your life would never make it out.

He kept throwing desperate looks at Chief O’Brien, like that could somehow convince him to go look for Liam, or ask one of the guys to go instead. Something. Anything. His hopes were in vain, though, no one in their sane mind would enter the burning building. The structure was furiously moaning and creaking and there was no way he would sacrifice more men.

“Payne!” O’Brien shouted one last hopeless order through the intercom before hanging his head down in defeat. Terrifying silence was the only response.

~~~

A clinking sound woke Zayn from his dream. Shit. It took him a second to come back from it, it was so real. His mind refused to let go of the fiery inferno in his mind. It kept playing in a loop in his brain every time he closed his eyes. It never stopped.

He blinked a few times, inhaling fresh, sterile air, trying to shake the lingering sensation of fear and heartbreak before lifting his head off the bed. Fuck, his back hurt, bad. Sleeping on a chair for three nights in a row was not a good idea, but it’s not like he had a choice. There was a sofa in the room, yes, but he needed to be closer than that.

He looked around and he found the source of the noise soon enough. A nurse was checking an IV line, scribbling something on a chart. Nora, was it? Yeah, the brunette one that reminded him of his mother was Nora; the tiny redhead was Rose, the old lady was María. When she noticed him he gave her a little wave, which she responded with a tired smile of her own.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, yawning, stretching, getting ready for… well, for more of the same, right? Fuck. Just in case he frowned questioningly at Nora. “Anything?” he asked, knowing the answer.

She shook her head slowly, pressing her lips in a thin line. “No, not yet, but he’s still stable, breathing on his own. That’s good,” she replied, bowing her head a bit before heading to the door. “Do you need anything, honey?” she asked before leaving; a sympathetic look in her eyes.

Zayn shook his head. “No, thanks, I’m okay,” he lied. Once she was gone, he finally managed to gather enough strength to look down at the reason why he felt like he would never be okay again.

Lying on the hospital bed, silent, pale, was Liam. Unmoving, unresponsive, just like he had been since they found him inside the building once it was safe enough for the rest of his crew to go back in. In a coma, but alive. Fucking alive. Breathing. Alive.

Zayn laid back on the chair, focusing his eyes on Liam’s still body, keeping his gaze fixed on the slow up-and-down rhythm of Liam’s chest. That was another good thing, right? The respirator the doctors had to put him in to clear his lungs and help him breathe was no longer necessary. It had been replaced by a little cannula that evening, delivering much needed oxygen into his lungs. Zayn didn’t miss the awful mechanical noise of the machine at all, but fuck, the silence was just as overwhelming.

He sighed, taking his eyes off Liam just for a second to check the time on the big clock on the wall. It was past midnight. He would be alone with Liam until morning. The rest of the squad had stopped by to visit him earlier, and they would return the next day, of course. They were all like family, Chief O’Brien playing the role of a stern but caring father to all of them.

They had spent quite a few hours a day in the room since the fire, making jokes, trying to cope in their own way. At night, though, only one person could stay with him, and no one argued against Zayn when he insisted on filling that position. Maybe they knew why he wanted to stay. Maybe they didn't. Whatever. He didn't care anymore.

Captain Horan’s wife had been by too, worried mostly about Zayn, bringing him a change of clothes and something to eat. Officer Tomlinson helped too, relieving Zayn for an hour earlier so he could go get a shower. Zayn spent that hour crying in the bathroom instead, but no one had to know that.  

The point was that everyone knew Zayn was the only person that had to stay, which was pathetic, maybe, but Zayn didn’t care. He was past caring, because the only thing that mattered was that Liam was alone and he could not have that.

Not many people knew the real story, mostly because not many people had gotten as close to Liam as Zayn had. One night, back when they had just become friends, they ended up kind of drunk at Liam’s flat, and somehow the conversation went from hilariously funny to deep and depressing in the blink of an eye. That night changed the dynamic of their entire relationship, of course, but it also was the night Zayn learned how truly alone Liam was.

His mother had died when he was born, so he never got to meet her. His father had raised him then, until his alcoholism killed him when Liam was five years old. An uncle took care of him from then on; a cold, detached man that never wanted children in the first place and made sure Liam knew that, using both words and fists. It was truly a miracle that Liam had turned out to be the sweet, smart, incredible man he was, considering his childhood. Zayn's working theory that that self-reliance everyone admired in him was born of that trauma, he was forced to learn to take care of himself.

The point was that Liam had no family other than the people at the firehouse, and that meant there was no one to stay with him at night. No one would be there if he woke up. No one would hold him and tell him everything would be alright. No one but his best friend and roommate. No one but Zayn.

Liam was the most important person in Zayn’s life, of course he was never going to leave him alone. When he woke up (yes, when, not if), Liam would need someone there, someone to explain, someone to take care of him, to be there with him. Zayn was determined to be that person, no matter how hard it would be.

Zayn sighed, deeper this time, once again leaning down to rest his arms on the side of the bed. His hand found Liam’s easily. His fingers ran across Liam’s, once, twice, a thousand times, before finally holding them. Zayn swallowed the sudden ache in his chest, wishing Liam would squeeze back.

He stayed like that for a good hour; just looking at Liam, praying to whatever god would listen. He kept carefully caressing the back of his hand with his thumb, holding it to his lips, kissing it, talking to him, calling him. He had to wake up. He had to.

~~~

Zayn made an effort to ignore the guy that had just left the flat he shared with Liam. He practically nose-dived into his cup of coffee, pretending to look at whatever meaningless thing was happening on the TV. Thankfully, the guy didn’t even notice him, too busy trying not to trip as he put his shoes on on his way out.

Zayn prayed he could at least pretend everything was fine by the time Liam came out of his room, looking gorgeous and freshly fucked. He rolled his eyes at the mental image and took another long swig of his coffee, letting it practically burn his throat. It definitely hurt less than the burn in his heart.

He was kind of used to it already anyways, wasn’t he? It wasn’t like he didn’t know Liam was like this. There was a reason why no one in the station was even bothered by Liam’s Casanova status anymore.

He still remembered the first time he noticed. He was only a few weeks into his job as a paramedic in the firehouse. At that point he was already head over heels for that gorgeous hunk of a firefighter that went by the name of Lieutenant Payne. Maybe he started falling for him the first fucking day he met him, to be honest, but yeah, a few weeks in he was definitely already a goner.

How could he not? Liam was simply the perfect man. He was beautiful, he was kind, he was smart and considerate and heroic. He was generous and he was a huge dork and just… he was just fucking perfect, and Zayn had zero chance of ignoring a man like that. He basically couldn’t keep his eyes off him, and maybe that’s how he noticed that Liam seemed to… how could he put it… he simply seemed to fuck everything that moved.

Swallowing his envy, he casually asked Styles about it one morning. Laughing amusedly, the man basically confirmed Zayn’s suspicion. Liam did, in fact, fuck everything that moved. There was no single person in the firehouse that hadn’t been in his bed at some point with the exception of their Chief, and every single hot creature that crossed paths with him outside of work ended up in his arms. Women, men, young, old, it didn’t matter.

At that moment that little piece of information was kind of amusing, even interesting if he thought of the possibilities it opened up, but… as the months went by and Zayn’s infatuation grew along with their friendship, for some reason, Liam never made a move on him. Ever.

At first it didn’t matter. The sting of disappointment was somehow placated by how satisfying their budding friendship felt, but then it started feeling kind of insulting. And then it became downright painful. Of course in time his infatuation became love, and Liam’s adventures stopped being something funny to laugh about with the other guys at the station, especially because Liam seemed to be immune to Zayn.

And Zayn tried. He did. Hating himself for feeling their friendship was not enough, feeling stupid for wanting something so much, he tried. He flirted, he threw unsubtle hints, he even considered downright asking, but no. Nothing Zayn ever did seemed to work on Liam.

As months and years passed, they became close friends to the point of moving in together when Zayn got kicked out of his flat. And still, nothing happened. Ever. They shared lazy morning cuddling on the sofa, they saw each other semi-naked on a regular basis, they got drunk together more than once, and yet, nothing.

Zayn tried to convince himself that it was because they were friends, and adding sex to the mix would be stupid. That was on the good days. On the bad days, like this one, when Zayn was forced to witness yet another walk of shame, it felt incredibly painful.

He couldn’t help being in love. Many times he considered putting distance between them. Many times he thought about moving out. But then Liam roped him right back in, because the truth was they loved each other. Maybe Liam didn’t love him as a man, maybe it was never going to be romantic, maybe he only loved him as a friend, but he loved him. No one knew Zayn like Liam did, they shared so many special things, they were always there for each other, and Zayn couldn’t lose that.

So there he was, hoping the hot coffee would drown the pain in his chest. Feeling that stupid envy, that stupid sadness. Feeling inadequate, insufficient, hating everything.

At least until Liam came out of his bedroom, wearing only joggers, looking sleepy, messy and glowing. Zayn’s heart skipped a beat, all those negative feelings quieting down, as they always did in his presence.

Liam slowly walked towards where Zayn was sitting on the sofa, sitting down carefully by Zayn’s side, in absolute silence. Zayn bit his lip along with his ‘good morning’, his eyes stubbornly fixed on his mug, wondering if Liam knew. He always wondered if Liam even noticed how he felt, how these things made him feel. He had to wonder, because the way Liam acted in mornings like this was always the same, and Zayn was already bracing himself emotionally for it. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

After a short silence, Liam finally moved with a sigh. He practically curled like a cat by his side, resting his head on Zayn’s lap, without saying a word. Fuck… Zayn’s lungs refused to work for a moment. Why did he always do that? Why did he torture Zayn like that? Why did he always seek Zayn’s comfort like that, like he needed it so badly he couldn’t even ask for it out loud? Why did he even need it?

The air felt tense and full of an unexplainable sadness. Zayn didn’t say anything either. Liam just stayed there, like always, so silent, so quiet, so small. Liam was an impressive man in many ways, a presence larger than life, but in those quiet moments, when whoever had him the previous night left him alone and for some ridiculous reason he sought Zayn like this, he felt small. Tiny. Sad.

Zayn sighed and with a resigned eye roll, he gave in. He put his mug down on the coffee table by his side and he finally let his fingers get lost in Liam’s hair. Fuck. Why the fuck did he have to love him? Why couldn’t he just stop?

~~~

This time what woke Zayn up wasn’t a sound. It was a sensation. It was fingers, softly touching his hair. He sighed, smiling, lost in the delicious feeling. He was pretty sure he was still dreaming, still lost in his mind, wondering what it would feel like if Liam ever touched him like that, so tenderly, but… No… It felt real. It felt… Oh god.

He opened his eyes, fully waking up in a fraction of a second, lifting his head from the hospital bed. The first thing his eyes found was a smile. Liam was smiling at him, with his eyes open. Awake. Liam was awake. Alive. Awake. Fuck.

Zayn straightened up, his eyes wide open and desperate. “Liam…” he called his name like a prayer, desperate for a response, desperate for something that confirmed that this was not a dream.

Liam’s smile grew wider, but he said nothing for a moment. He just looked at Zayn for what felt like an eternity... and then he started crying. Fuck.

It wasn’t even a desperate sob or anything like that. It was soft and quiet, like most of Liam’s emotions when he was with Zayn. Silent tears just fell down his face and Zayn choked back a sob of his own. Liam never cried. Fuck. Following his instinct he left the chair, standing up, practically climbing the bed to get closer to Liam. “Shh, it’s okay, babe, don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay… you’re okay…” he whispered, both hands cupping Liam’s face, his thumbs wiping tears away while his heart hammered in his chest.

Maybe he should’ve called a nurse, a doctor, maybe he should’ve done something smarter, something useful, but he couldn’t. Before he could even think about moving, Liam lifted a hand and grabbed his t-shirt in a fist, pulling hard until Zayn fell into his arms.

And that’s when Zayn started crying too. Nestled against Liam’s chest, feeling him like that. Alive. Awake. Breathing. Alive. “Shh, it’s okay, love, I’m here… I’m not going anywhere,” he promised between tears, feeling Liam’s arms tightening their grip around him.

They stayed like that for a long moment. Zayn didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to face what was coming. He wasn’t strong enough. He thought he would be. He had to, right? He was the only one that could do this. The only one that cared about Liam enough to do this.

He held on for dear life until Liam pushed him away, carefully, his hands mirroring Zayn’s previous position, wiping tears away from Zayn’s cheeks with a tiny smile. Zayn’s heart broke in a million pieces knowing that smile wouldn’t last long.

“Hi… It’s okay, Li, I’m here, yeah? I’m always gonna be here, you have nothing to worry about, it’s gonna be okay, I… I…” he tried to keep his tone positive. He frantically searched in his brain for a way to say it, or maybe a way to stop this, at least delay it, but he came up empty handed.

And Liam noticed. He always did, didn’t he? His smile slowly faded away and he frowned, searching Zayn’s face with his eyes like he was trying to understand. “Wh—“ he tried to speak, but his voice was clearly weak after days without speaking. And the smoke. The fucking smoke. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a small breathless whisper, looking for Zayn’s hand, holding it tight.

Zayn froze. He froze and thought about calling a doctor just so it wouldn’t be him giving Liam the news. It was too late, though. He saw in Liam’s face the exact moment he realized something was really, really wrong. Liam moved a bit, he squirmed on the bed to sit more upright and his face suddenly became a grimace, full of pain, an expression Zayn would never forget. “It’s okay, babe. It’s going to be okay, I promise, yeah? But… the fire… a beam fell from the ceiling, you… you got pinned down, you…” Zayn choked again, the memory so fresh it hurt, the fear, the sadness, the powerlessness.

He didn’t need to finish what he was trying to say, though. Liam’s eyes left him, and Zayn knew exactly why. Liam remembered, but his face didn’t light up with the memory. His eyes went dark with dread, as they went straight to where Zayn knew they would go.

Liam looked down and Zayn followed his gaze. It wasn’t news to him; he knew exactly where to look. Zayn knew already. Zayn was the one that traveled with Liam in the ambulance, crying his heart out, whispering useless prayers. Zayn was the first one the doctors told the news to. Zayn was the one that spent three days wondering how in the world he was supposed to tell Liam.

Under the covers, the outline of Liam’s legs could be seen clearly. His left leg was squirming all the way to his foot. His right leg ended just below his knee. “No. No, no no…” Zayn closed his eyes, hearing Liam’s desperate cries, feeling Liam’s hand holding his tighter and tighter.

That beam that knocked him down, that fucking beam that pinned him in place and almost cost him his life, had destroyed his leg from the knee down. His suit had protected him from the fire and his mask saved him from drowning in the smoke, but his leg was shattered. There was no way to fix it. No matter how hard Zayn screamed at the surgeon, no matter how hard he cried, no matter how desperate he felt knowing Liam’s career was over, there was no fixing it.

“No, fuck… no… This isn’t… this isn’t happening…” Liam cried again and Zayn opened his eyes to look at him again. He was staring at where his leg once had been, paler than when he was asleep. He was panicking. He was losing it, hyperventilating, shaking his head again and again.

Zayn knew he couldn’t fix that either, no matter what he did. Still, he tried. Feeling powerless, broken, desperate, he tried. He carefully placed a hand on Liam’s chest, trying in vain to swallow his own tears. “It’s gonna be okay, Li, I promise… Hey, breathe, please, breathe… Li… Please…” It was no use. Liam was transfixed, in absolute panic.

Zayn didn’t get another chance to try to calm him down. Nora chose that exact moment to walk in the room, two doctors behind her. For a second, Zayn didn’t understand why they were there, or how they knew, until he finally noticed the furious beeping of the machines, letting everyone know Liam’s heart rate had skyrocketed. His pulse was too fast, everything was too much.

All of a sudden more people walked in, the flurry of movement paralyzing Zayn. The only thing he could feel was the overwhelming need to shield Liam, protecting him. It made no sense, consciously he knew the doctors only wanted to help, but he followed his instinct anyways. “He’s panicking, leave him alone!” he screamed.

He stood his ground for as long as he could, even as the doctors tried to pull him away. Liam was still holding his hand, hard, and that was enough reason to keep trying. Zayn didn’t want to let go. Liam needed him. “Please, honey, let us work, he’s going to be fine,” Nora begged, trying to coerce him away.

“No, no, Zayn, please! Zayn!” Liam called, finally ripping his eyes from his leg, looking back at him with desperate eyes. He looked so scared, so so scared, Zayn had never seen him like that. The fear froze him, and a tall man in a lab coat took advantage of that. He forced himself between them, pushing Zayn back, and all of a sudden Liam’s hand was gone, and Zayn couldn’t see him anymore. Another man practically dragged him away from Liam and out of the room, no matter how hard he fought.

Outside, he slumped against a wall and lost it. He cried his heart out, still feeling Liam’s touch burning him, still feeling the fear, the overwhelming sadness. He knew he had to let the professionals do their job, but fuck. He wished he could be the one to make Liam feel whole, safe again. He wished he could just fix it.

~~~

Twelve long hours went by before Zayn was let back in the room. He didn’t manage to sleep a single minute of those hours. He walked and paced and fretted outside Liam’s door, desperately asking anyone that went in or out what was happening, freaking out every time he heard screaming or crying from the other side of the door. His whole heart was sitting on that hospital bed, having just woken up from a coma to find out he lost a leg. Zayn needed to be there, to hold him, to make sure he was okay. Liam needed a friendly face by his side, someone that loved him.

However, the doctors were always in a hurry, refusing to answer his incessant questions, maybe thinking that Zayn was just an annoying co-worker (he wasn’t really family after all, was he?). The nurses were the only ones kind and patient enough to actually answer a few things.

According to them, Liam’s panic attack had forced the doctors to sedate him again for a bit. He needed to be calm to process the news. They assured Zayn that after he woke up from the sedation he was much calmer and stable. Of course he was still shaken, but at least he was lucid enough to listen without panicking.

It was the surgeon that officially told him what had happened. Apparently Liam took it like he took any bad thing life threw at him (at least when Zayn’s not there to catch him if he breaks). He stoically listened while the man explained the prognosis, the rehab process and the orthopedic possibilities that would help Liam live a pretty normal life. Normal with the exception of, you know, the part where he couldn’t fight fires anymore.

That was what worried Zayn the most. Liam was strong, incredibly strong, he could overcome anything, but having his passion, his life stolen from him like that? Zayn’s heart was broken, just like he knew Liam’s was, and that just made him more and more desperate to see him.

Still, after relaying that piece of news to Zayn, the nurses kept him outside for a while longer. Liam needed to be bathed and fed, they needed to run a few more tests, and as much as Zayn needed to be there to help, he knew… he knew Liam would call him when he needed him, right? He made sure the nurses told Liam he was still there, waiting.

Long hours passed until a new nurse Zayn didn’t recognize let him know Liam was awake, asking for him. Zayn stood up from his chair so quickly he got dizzy. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his anxiety down, trying not to panic wondering what version of Liam he would find in that room. The sudden realization that it didn’t matter, that he would still love whatever version it was, gave him the strength he needed to finally steel himself enough to walk back into the room.

He carefully opened the door and as always, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Liam. He was sitting up on the bed, propped up with fluffy pillows. He was looking better, healthier. Oh god, Zayn wanted to cry just noticing that rosy blush back in his cheeks, the brightness in his eyes. There was a small smile on his lips as he looked up at Zayn, his hands carefully arranged on his lap. “Hey…” he greeted Zayn, his voice sounding much stronger as he moved one hand to pat the bed by his side, inviting him.

Zayn’s insides were devoured by carnivore butterflies as he approached Liam slowly, taking advantage of those few steps to revel in the sight of Liam. His Liam, breathing, awake, smiling. Alive. “Hey you,” he replied, finally reaching the bed, carefully sitting by Liam’s side. He had no idea how, but their hands seemed to find each other naturally, like they had been impatiently waiting to reconnect after they had gotten torn apart hours before. “How are you feeling?” he asked, with a tiny smile of his own, trying to mask the way he was melting inside thanks to that simple contact.

Liam bit his lip, taking a moment to sigh and swallow before speaking. “Physically, exhausted. I have no idea how that works, considering I’ve been sleeping for days,” he replied, that delicious dry wit of his making Zayn exhale a little overwhelmed laugh. “Emotionally, I’m…” he looked down at his lap, and Zayn could tell he was forcing his eyes not to go below his knees. “…well, broken,” he finished, shrugging his shoulders, resigned.

Zayn sighed too, his thumb making slow circles on the back of Liam’s hand. “You’re not broken, babe. You’re the strongest person I know, Li, you’re going to be okay,” he tried, knowing beforehand Liam would have a hard time believing that. Liam always seemed so confident in the eyes of the world, but Zayn knew a Liam no one else did, a Liam that was self-deprecating more often than not, full of insecurities and fears.

He was right. Liam’s smiley façade disappeared in an instant and he became that version of Liam only Zayn knew, all quiet, tiny and sad, sadder than ever. “I can’t fight fires anymore. That’s like… my whole life. The only thing I’m good at,” he whispered.

And still, Zayn insisted, because maybe Liam didn’t see it now, but no one would convince Zayn otherwise. “You’re good at many things. You could do arson investigation. Remember Chief Sanders? He’s been trying to recruit you for years and for good reason. You have a fantastic eye for that. You can still fight fires, just from another angle, you know?” he suggested. He knew it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same, but that undying sense of purpose was something Liam didn’t have to lose along with his ability to run into burning buildings, not really.

“God, Z… How do you always stay so positive?” Liam asked, rolling his eyes, looking back up at Zayn, his smile back in place.

Zayn shook his head, squeezing Liam’s hand. “I’m not positive, believe me,” and boy was that true. He had lost that happy go lucky attitude he grew up with a long time ago. Maybe it was the years he spent working as a paramedic, staring death in the face, witnessing so much pain, so much crude reality. It wasn’t an easy job on his soul, and it had taken a toll he couldn’t avoid. “I’m more of a realist, you know? And I’ve never…” maybe he should just shut up, but no. Liam had to know. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, okay? Strong minded, brave, smart… This is nothing. You’re going to be okay, you’ll see, and I’m gonna be right here to make sure of it,” he assured Liam, knowing it was not an empty promise. Maybe Liam couldn’t see it now, but in time he would. It wasn’t a promise based on naïve hopes and dreams. It was based on everything he knew about the man he loved.

Liam bit his lip again, exhaling a deep, broken sigh, like he was trying (and failing) to hold back emotions. He didn’t even say a word for a moment; he just looked at Zayn, like he was trying to decipher something, or maybe like Zayn held the answer to everything Liam couldn’t predict about his future. He stayed still, like he always did when he wanted something so badly he didn’t know how to ask for it, just looking at Zayn.

Zayn felt like breaking apart. He felt like fucking crying. Those bright eyes, gazing into his, so shamelessly, so openly… It made him feel small and naked and undeserving, but at the same time it felt… it just felt right. It felt like that thing they had, that connection, was more important than anything else. He just looked back at Liam, not saying anything either, trying to pour all the love he felt for the man into that small moment, like he could make him see, make him understand. He would be there, no matter what.

If it had been one of Zayn’s dreams, Liam would kiss him right there and then. But no, it was the real world, and the love of Zayn’s life was sitting right in front of him, feeling broken, and Zayn was sitting there, feeling like he could rip his heart out of his chest if that could make Liam feel happy again.

Liam didn’t ask for his heart, though. He didn’t ask any questions either. He didn’t kiss him, he didn’t cry, he just… He just carefully wiggled to a side, groaning a bit when he moved his legs, making more room by his side on the bed.

He didn’t have to ask. Zayn just carefully laid down by Liam’s side, opening his arms, letting Liam crawl between them. As soon as Liam laid his head on Zayn’s chest, Zayn’s fingers went to his hair. His heart hurt, as always, but he was not about to be a selfish asshole. His stupid love had to take a back seat. All that mattered in that moment was that Liam was alive, and he needed him more than ever. He just had to be there for him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Liam whispered, practically inaudible, making Zayn’s heart stop, his throat seizing up. Fuck. The words sounded so sad. So desperate.

Zayn just held Liam’s body tighter against his, closing his eyes hard, fighting the tears back. “I promise you, you’ll never know,” he whispered back. That was a fact.

After a small silence, Liam spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he added in a broken voice. Zayn’s brain was suddenly dizzy with all the possible reasons why Liam could be apologizing, but by the time he finally gathered the strength to ask, Liam was soundly asleep in his arms.

~~~

“Easy… Easy…” Zayn smiled carefully, his eyes on the floor, his hands hovering in front of Liam’s chest, fighting the need to touch him.

Liam smiled too as he gave a few tentative steps forward, a confident smile that made Zayn’s chest swell with pride. Every day he walked with a bit more certainty, just like the doctor said he would. Getting used to the prosthetic leg would be quite a journey according to the old man, but hard as it was, it was obvious Liam loved the idea of being able to walk on his own again, after so many weeks using wheelchairs and crutches. He took on the challenge with all of his focus and energy, and Zayn couldn’t be happier seeing Liam so hopeful and determined.

The last two months hadn’t been easy. The biggest challenges were physical, of course, but the emotional part of it all was unavoidable. The aftermath of the fire had taken a toll on the both of their hearts, but Zayn chose to ignore his own issues for the moment. Those could wait. All he cared about in the world was Liam and his recovery.

After waking up, Liam had to stay a few weeks at the hospital recovering from the surgery, getting stronger and healthier every day. Zayn hadn’t left his side, of course. Liam tried to convince him every now and then to go back home, worried about his comfort, and at first Zayn complied. Or at least he tried to.

Back at their flat, all he managed to do before rushing back to Liam’s side was eating a hot meal, getting a shower and crying his heart out. Every night he ended up back at Liam’s room, sleeping on the sofa, guarding him with his life. Liam rolled his eyes at him every time Zayn walked back into the room with a sheepish smile, but he welcomed him anyways, like he understood, or like he needed Zayn by his side just as much as Zayn needed to be there.

Things were hard at first, those first few days were hell. The process of accepting what had happened for Liam wasn’t as easy as just talking to a doctor. The panic attacks, the sudden fits of inconsolable crying and the screaming in frustration every time he tried to move were common occurrences. He needed help for everything, from standing up to going to the bathroom, and for a man like Liam, self-reliant to a fault, admitting he needed someone there to give him a hand was hard.

Zayn tried his best to help, and of course Liam had a hard time letting him. It was weak, he was weak, Liam said. Zayn kept offering, though, and eventually Liam understood that the last person in the world who would judge him or look down on him for needing assistance was Zayn. Little by little, he let Zayn help him.

Zayn couldn’t be happier about it, because that meant he got to witness the most amazing side of Liam during his recovery. He was right, you see? Liam was the most amazing human being on the planet. Where Liam saw weakness and failures, Zayn saw a kind of strength that made him fall in love with him even deeper. Zayn got to witness firsthand how Liam fought tooth and nail against his mind, against his heart, against his own body, and he always came out on top. He always won.

That deep sadness was still in his eyes, and Zayn knew it would take a long time to get rid of it, but he knew Liam could make it. He knew it every time he managed to make him laugh, or when he lit up when Zayn brought him something new to read or play with, or when he fell asleep with a sigh in Zayn’s arms. Zayn would love that sadness out of Liam every single day of his life, no matter what.

And he did just that. He stayed with Liam at the hospital, and when he was released, he got him back home safely. He helped him readjust to their life and their routines, he gave him a hand when he needed it and he also encouraged him when Liam wanted to try things by himself. He went with him to every doctor appointment, he made him laugh when Liam seemed down, he dried every tear and yeah, he slept with him too.

It wasn’t sexual, of course it wasn’t. It was just Liam needing comfort and company, right? The first night back home Zayn assumed things would go back to normal, that the sleeping together thing was just at the hospital, right? It was something they did for comfort in a strange, cold place. He went to bed like he always did but he woke up in the middle of the night to Liam having used his crutches on his own for the first time in his desperation to get to Zayn’s bed.  

Zayn didn’t really think about it. He didn’t even question it. He did his best to try to shut down the part of him that had dreamt so many nights about Liam sleeping on his bed, and he just gave him what he wanted. He opened his arms to welcome Liam between them, and from then on it just kept happening, every night.

The feeling of sleeping together was the best thing Zayn had ever felt, and it was more than just selfish satisfaction. It was more than knowing that it meant Liam wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. It simply was the comforting feeling of being needed, of feeling Liam calmly drift off to sleep safely in his arms. It was the sweetest thing they had ever shared and Zayn loved it, even if the next morning he spent an absurd amount of minutes trying to understand what it meant, or what it would mean for them in the future, when everything went back to normal.

He tried not to think about it too much, though. It was part of that personal emotional toll he refused to think about. All he cared about was Liam’s progress, Liam’s heart, Liam’s future. He still felt that undying hope that Liam would be just fine.

And this? These first steps Liam was taking, without Zayn’s help? They fed Zayn’s hope like fuel fed fire. It was evidence that Liam’s life wasn’t over. He was going to walk again, he was going to find a way to fight fires, he was going to have a brilliant future, and Zayn was so proud of him. So so proud.

It was only his third time trying to walk with the prosthetic leg, and this time he had chosen to leave those crutches he hated so much behind. It was risky, Zayn knew as much, that’s why his hands were floating in the air, close to Liam’s body, giving him enough freedom to move by himself, but ready to catch him at any moment.

Not that Liam needed him to. His smile grew with each step he gave on his own, the confidence in his posture and in the firmness of each movement growing along with it. At least until he started visibly sweating from the effort.

“You good?” Zayn asked, worried, not wanting him to push it too far. The doctor had explained how getting used to using the prosthetic would take some time, and he had to go slow.

Liam nodded, grinning, taking another step towards Zayn with his good leg. Zayn mirrored the movement, taking a step backwards. And then the next step with his prosthetic leg was too much. Zayn noticed Liam’s entire body flinching, and all of a sudden Liam toppled forward, his hands gripping Zayn’s shoulders.

He caught him as best as he could, one hand on his chest, the other going around his torso. He held on to him, trying to keep him upright and trying to breathe at the same time. Liam’s face had ended up so close to Zayn’s he could practically count his freckles. Fuck.

They had been practicing walking since Liam got out of the hospital, okay? It wasn’t the first time Liam nearly fell. It wasn’t the first time Zayn caught him. It wasn’t the first time but something had changed. Maybe it was the adrenaline and the giddiness running through their veins, or the fact that they were so damn close. Zayn froze. Liam did too, staring into Zayn’s eyes, until his eyelids dropped and all of a sudden the air got so electric Zayn started shaking.

No one said a word, maybe because no word was needed. They knew each other too well. It was a look, it was that look that Zayn spent years waiting for, suddenly making Liam’s brown eyes look so warm, so fiery. Or maybe it was in Zayn’s imagination. Maybe the way Liam’s lips got closer to his was an optical illusion. He instinctively parted his lips, exhaling, waiting, feeling his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Liam slowly closed his eyes, and when Zayn did the same, just like that, it was over. Instead of kissing him, Liam rested his forehead on his. “I’m sorry…” he whispered after an eternal silence, and then he moved away. Zayn opened his eyes, and Liam wasn’t even looking at him anymore.

Zayn felt his heart finally leave his body, yeah, but instead of beating out of his chest, it simply fell to the floor. Fuck. He was an idiot, why would Liam ever… Fuck… He shook his head, trying to drown the embarrassment, trying to hide it by helping Liam hop his way to the sofa.

They sat side by side, in silence, while Liam took the prosthetic off and slowly massaged his leg, looking away from Zayn. Fuck, it hurt. Zayn’s mind was screaming that it was best to just ignore the whole thing, ignore the fact that he almost ruined everything. The problem was that it felt so real. So fucking real. Liam’s warm eyes, Liam’s breath on his skin, the way his eyes closed so slowly… It felt so damn real, so beautiful, and it hurt so much, and Zayn was so confused and desperate he had to ask. “What for?” he blurted out, looking down at his hands.

“What?” Liam asked, still not looking at him, like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t shaken Zayn’s entire existence in a second.

Zayn considered dropping the conversation altogether, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t find the strength. He was so used to reading every single act of love Liam ever manifested towards him as just friendship that the sudden ridiculous possibility that it could mean something more and he never saw it was too heavy, too fucking big. He needed to know if that was real or if he was finally losing it. “You said you were sorry,” he reminded Liam, looking sideways at him. “What are you sorry for?”

Liam finally stopped moving, sitting back with a huff. He said nothing for a bit, his eyes lost somewhere on the floor. Time seemed to stretch forever while Zayn waited for an answer. “I’m… I’m sorry for doing that, I mean…” God… that was a knife to the heart, thrown at him with terrifying precision. “I mean, I have no right, I…” Liam shrugged, shaking his head, looking defeated. “I can’t do that to you…”

Zayn frowned, biting his lip in a desperate attempt to keep tears at bay. “Do what to me?” he insisted. Something told him it was definitely not the moment for this conversation. Liam had bigger problems that Zayn’s unrequited feelings, but at the same time, there were years and years of confusion and need and love weighing down on his shoulders and he needed to understand.

“You know…” Liam began with a self-deprecating chuckle that confused Zayn even further. “I just… I can’t, like, want you… or want you to want me or… like…” he mumbled, and Zayn’s heart seemed to crawl from its place on the floor all the way up to his chest again, screaming furiously the whole time.

“What?” He asked, breathless. Liam couldn’t mean what Zayn wanted him to mean. It was impossible, it made no sense. Did Liam not know? Did he know but he purposefully ignored him all this time? Did he fuck half the city knowing what Zayn felt? Was he joking? Was he suggesting he felt the same? It made no fucking sense, it was making Zayn feel dizzy.

Liam sighed deeply before replying, still refusing to look at Zayn. “I mean… I mean… fuck…” he grunted in frustration, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair, like he always did when he was nervous. “I mean you’re… god, you’re just so amazing, you’re… You’re too good for me, right? These past few months you… you’re the reason I’m not losing it, okay? You’re my fucking rock, Zayn, and I… I thought…”

“No,” Zayn blurted, standing up. “No, you don’t get to do that, Liam.” There were tears already threatening to fall down his cheeks and no. He couldn’t be saying what he was saying. What, all of a sudden Liam realized Zayn was a really helpful and amazing guy? All of a sudden he decided he could finally spare him some attention? To return the favor? “You don’t get to say those things to me like you don’t know how I feel. You don’t get to play with me like that,” he spat, way beyond reason. His chest hurt too much to even think or measure his words.

Liam looked at him from the sofa with his mouth open, frowning, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “What? I wasn’t… I… Zayn, please look at me,” Liam pleaded, but it was too late, Zayn was pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, trying not to lose his mind.

“No. No, I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and hear you say those things. I can’t hear you say I’m too good for you. I refuse, I… I can’t,” Zayn mumbled, already crying, and just like that, he left Liam on that sofa and ran like an idiot to his room without another word, too overwhelmed to act like an adult.

~~~

It was dark by the time Zayn heard Liam knocking on his bedroom door. The fucker was the politest person Zayn knew, and some other time he would’ve laughed and told him to come in anyways, making fun of him for stopping to knock when he knew he could just come in.

In that moment, however, it was impossible for him to laugh. His eyes still hurt from crying, his throat still felt raw. God, he had done so much fucking crying in two months, probably more than in his entire life put together, but he never thought he would cry about this. Not this.

He thought things were clear. Simple. Liam wasn’t interested. He would never be interested. He had every chance to show Zayn otherwise, and he never did. Liam preferred the easy life of fucking around and Zayn never judged him for it. It hurt, yes, but he never judged him. It was, indeed, easy, right? It was easy for Liam, and it was easy for him. It was the clearest message a man can send another. No interest whatsoever.

And then that almost-kiss happened, and Liam said Zayn was too good for him? What did that even fucking mean? It went beyond how utterly ridiculous that concept was. Zayn? Too good for Liam? What the fuck. He hadn’t been enough. Ever. Not even for a pity fuck. They were friends, very good friends, and after Liam’s accident they had been closer than ever, but that was it. Zayn never meant anything more than that to Liam, why would he say he was too much?

Zayn was so fucking confused, so fucking hurt. He wanted to ignore that knocking, he wanted to disappear; he wanted to cry for an entire day or two because that little scene back there most likely meant their friendship was over. He basically confessed he had feelings for Liam, real feelings, feelings Liam would have to refuse, reject. Their relationship would never be the same, and these tears Zayn cried were part embarrassment, part heartbreak and part mourning. Mourning for something they never had and mourning for everything they did have, everything he was sure they had just lost.

Liam knocked again and Zayn closed his eyes tighter, turning to his side and hating himself for that. His pillow smelled of Liam and as soon as he moved he got another lungful of that delicious perfume. Fuck.

He was determined to ignore Liam, but the man kept knocking. Again. And again. Until he stopped, and then Zayn heard the door creak open. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He closed his eyes tighter, like he did when he was little, thinking that if he couldn’t see anyone, it meant no one could see him either. And still, he could hear. He heard the thump-thump of the crutches on the wooden floor, getting closer and closer until the bed dipped in front of him. “I’m sorry,” Liam whispered, his voice broken and rough, like he had been crying too. Fuck.

“Stop saying that,” Zayn pleaded, refusing to open his eyes. He bit his lip raw, refusing to cry again, in front of Liam this time. This was his shame, his embarrassment, his own stupid feelings that needed to go away. Liam didn’t need to see that, or even know about it.

Or maybe he did. “Please talk to me, Z,” he asked, and Zayn fucking hated the power that Liam always had over him. He hated the fact that he knew he had to talk. He couldn’t hide like a child anymore. If he ruined everything, if he really ruined the best thing he ever had in his life, at least he had to do it with a shred of dignity and honesty. Liam deserved as much.

“I’m the one that’s sorry,” he mumbled, finally opening his eyes, looking at the empty space in front of him. Space that was suddenly occupied, because Liam decided they needed to do this looking each other in the eye. He slowly laid down on his side, in front of Zayn, his head on the pillow. Zayn lost the words he was about to say. Liam’s eyes were all red, and that sadness Zayn always saw there was deeper than ever, it was like a black hole ready to suck the both of them in. And now Zayn had to speak, and make him sadder. Shit.

Zayn sighed and forced himself to keep going, there was no avoiding this. “I’m an idiot, yeah? I’m… I’m a fucking idiot because I know I should’ve told you this sooner, but yeah, I… I do feel things for you. Always did. Like I never felt for anyone else,” he confessed, and Liam… Oh fuck. A tiny tear fell down the bridge of Liam’s nose, landing on the pillow, and Zayn almost broke. It was just too much, but Zayn needed to keep talking. “I’m sorry I never told you, okay? I’m an asshole and I hate myself for it, I hate myself for not being able to control this shit, but… What was I supposed to do?” he asked, despair clear in his voice.

“I tried. I tried to let you know, but… you were always busy, right? Always busy with… with people, other people, never me. Never me, and it hurt, and I couldn’t understand it, but you were my friend, right? That was more important, so I just… I never told you, because our friendship was more important. It still is more important to me than anything in the world. You mean everything to me, Liam, and the things I do for you I do them because I love you, but I don’t want anything in return. I don’t want you saying ridiculous shit like I’m your rock, I don’t stay by your side because I want you to love me back. I don’t want you telling me I’m too good for you. I…”

“But you are…” Liam interrupted him, frowning. Zayn needed to explain that he only wanted his friendship in return, but he stopped in his tracks, his words dying in his mouth in the face of Liam’s insistence. “You’ve always been too much for me. Too good, to amazing. From the very first time you smiled at me I knew you were too much for me, and being your friend just confirmed that. I wasn’t lying before, Z. You are the most amazing person in my life, okay?” he pleaded, and Zayn was even more confused than before.

Zayn shook his head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Liam, I don’t…” Why did it sound like an apology? Why did it sound like a confession? Was he trying to let him down easy? Or was he saying something else, something Zayn’s heart was too broken to understand?

Liam took his time to answer, he just bit his lip, looking into Zayn’s eyes in silence, until he chuckled. “Remember how you always say you’re marveled at how sane I am, considering my upbringing?” he asked. Zayn frowned even deeper. What did that have to do with anything? “I think you’re wrong. I think I’m all kinds of fucked up. I think… I think the second I realized what you felt for me, back at the beginning, I freaked out. I… How could anyone love me? I don’t… I don’t get it. I don’t deserve it. Every person in my life since I was a little kid made sure I knew that. I have… I have nothing to offer. Or, well, I did have something to offer, but now that’s gone too, isn’t it?” he asked, looking down at his legs for a second.

What the actual fuck? Was Liam implying he had feelings for Zayn too, but he didn’t think he deserved to be loved back? He thought he had nothing to offer but his body, and now that he was missing a leg, he didn’t even have that? Was he for real? “You’re wrong…” Zayn objected indignantly, because somehow that was the worst part of what Liam was saying, even worse than the possibility that he did have feelings but hid them for years. How could he think he was unlovable?

“Am I?” Liam asked, shrugging. “I don’t… I don’t think anyone ever loved me, you know? Not even the people that were supposed to. There’s gotta be a reason for that, right? I’m just… I don’t know, maybe I don’t deserve it. Maybe I’m not enough for anyone. All those people you’ve seen? No one ever stayed. No one ever wanted to stay. Up until now all I’ve ever been is a warm body to fuck and now I’m not even that, I’m—” a tiny silent sob interrupted his words, and Zayn finally lost it.

“You’re wrong,” he repeated, firmer this time, his broken heart giving his words a desperate tone. “Those fuckers have no idea who you are, Liam. They never took the time to know you, otherwise they’d all be at your feet. I do, though. I know you. I see you every day. You can’t say I don’t. The things I feel are real and they get realer with every passing day because you’re… you’re the best person in the world, Li. You’re heroic, you’re so fucking brave… Life tried knocking you down so many times and here you are, fighting. You’re strong and kind and incredibly brilliant and so selfless. You’re fun and so fucking beautiful I can’t breathe just looking at you and no one in this world deserves you, Liam, no one,” Zayn explained, desperate to make him understand.

He didn’t even care anymore about the possibility of Liam having loved him all this time and not knowing about it. He didn’t even care about Liam sleeping with people knowing what Zayn felt. All he cared about was making Liam see he was worth the world. He was worth all the love in the universe. He was wrong. He was the one that was too good for anyone else.

Liam shook his head anyways, resigned, closing his eyes. “Shut up, please,” he begged, but Zayn wasn’t having it. He spent way too many years not telling Liam how amazing he was, how much love he deserved, and now Liam somehow thought no one could ever love him. He was wrong and he had to know that.

“No, listen to me, babe. Look at me, please,” Zayn pleaded, his hands going to cup Liam’s face to get him to look at him. Only when Liam opened his eyes, he went on. “You’re everything. You’re my everything, okay? You're my everything and you're perfect. you're not broken, or incomplete, or unlovable. You're perfect for me. And I’m not telling you this because I want to have sex with you, or because I want to make you feel better. It’s my truth, and I’ve been so fucking scared of telling you this, and now you think no one loves you? No. You’re wrong. I do. I really do,” he confessed, praying his words would get to Liam. “Maybe I missed my chance, and maybe confessing this I’m ruining everything for good, but I need you to know, okay? I love you. I’m in love with you. The world doesn’t know what it’s missing. I have the privilege of knowing you and loving you and… and…” how could Zayn even tell him how badly he wanted a chance? Did he even have one? Was that even a possibility? Did Liam even feel those things still, or were they all gone?

“But I’ve been horrible to you…” Liam reminded him. “I knew how you felt and I made you witness all my shit… I ignored you and I let you see me with other people, Zayn. I hurt you and I don’t understand how you can still be saying this to me,” he cried, desperate.

Zayn shook his head slowly, trying to wipe tears from Liam’s face with his thumbs. “You weren’t horrible, Liam. I refuse to blame you for dealing with your pain the way you did. I can’t hate you because the truth is I didn’t say anything either, because these past few years being your friend and living with you still were the best of my life, Liam. You made me so happy, and you still do, and I just… I just want to make you happy too. I just want you in my life. I need you in my life… I just…” fuck, Zayn was ready to beg. “I just want to love you. Please, let me love you… Let me show you what it feels like, let me show you you’re worth it, please…”

Liam looked at him, still shedding tears. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he finally spoke, he turned Zayn’s world upside down. “I can’t believe you love me,” he whispered, one of his hands moving up to cover Zayn’s on his face. It sounded like he had been asking himself that same question for years, it sounded like it was such an impossibility for him, but Zayn felt like flying anyways because that wasn’t a no. For him it sounded like a door being opened, like an opportunity ready to be taken. His entire body was vibrating, taken over by hope.

“I’ll help you believe, then. I promise you that. If you let me, I’ll love you so much it'll end up being your truth too. I'll love you so much you’ll end up getting sick of me,” he joked, all of a sudden so full of hope he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Liam bit his lip, stifling a little laugh that got lost among the tears, but a laugh that Zayn didn’t miss. They looked at each other in silence for the longest moment, until Liam broke the silence with a tentative smile. “Kiss me, then?” he asked, making Zayn’s pulse go into overdrive. “I wanna know what that feels like, being kissed by someone who loves me,” he explained, his voice going quieter, the request almost shy. All of a sudden he was that version of Liam only Zayn knew, that tiny, soft one, but this time the sadness in those tear stained eyes was mixed with something else, something that looked a lot like hope, something warm and wonderful Zayn would give his life to see every day.

He moved closer to Liam as slowly as he could, starting by taking that hand that covered his, taking it to his lips. He kissed every knuckle, making Liam giggle, and then he helped that hand find its place at the back of his head.

They had done this so many times, this slow dance on the bed to get closer to each other. Zayn opened his arms and Liam easily found his place between them. Zayn held him close until they were practically tangled. Only then Zayn granted Liam’s wish. “I love you,” he whispered over Liam’s lips before even moving.

He did so slowly. His entire body felt on fire as he closed the distance with Liam’s waiting lips. Liam closed his eyes and this time he didn’t move away. Oh god. Zayn felt those years of waiting stirring something wonderful and electric in his chest as he softly made contact, capturing Liam’s lower lip between his first. So warm. So soft. So delicious.

The little sigh that escaped Liam’s mouth encouraged him. He put his entire soul in that slow, tender kiss, he made his best effort to put his heart in everything he did, trying to speak a new language with Liam, hoping he would understand the message. He loved Liam so much he felt like he was about to burst, and he let that guide the slow crescendo of urgency as he kissed him.

Zayn shivered when their tongues met, letting his fingers get lost in Liam’s hair just the way he liked when a tiny sigh escaped Liam’s lips. Oh god, it was glorious. It was better than anything he could’ve dreamt of. It was a conversation. It wasn’t just Zayn screaming his love in an empty void. Liam was talking back, Liam was replying, making fresh tears fall from Zayn’s eyes as he adored the man he loved with something as simple and meaningful as a kiss.

It felt like it went on forever, until Liam broke it with a deep sigh, not really leaving Zayn’s lips. “Yeah…” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against Zayn’s, peppering little kisses all over Zayn’s mouth. “I could get used to that,” he giggled, and Zayn tightened his arms to hold him closer, smiling. That was all he wanted, that opportunity. He would make sure Liam couldn’t even remember what feeling unloved and broken was like.