Archive of Our Own ^beta

They quite literally run into each other. Niall’s at a pub, one of his favourites, and it’s a crowded night so he excuses himself after a while to duck outside for some fresh air. He pushes the door open and turns around the corner of the pub for some quiet when he collides with someone else rounding the corner from the other side.

“Sorry, mate,” he says at the same time the other person says, “Oh, sorry.”

They both realise who the other one is immediately after, and Niall takes a startled step back.

“Niall,” Zayn says, and it almost sounds like a sigh. It’s been a year since they’ve last seen each other.

“What are you doing here?” Niall asks when he’s finally caught his breath. It comes out sounding almost accusatory but Zayn doesn’t even blink.

“The same thing as you, I’d imagine. Drinking.”

Niall wants to yell at him, accuse him of coming to this pub on purpose when he knows it’s one of Niall’s favourites, but even in his tipsy state that seems a little childish. Also, he really can’t cause a scene out here. One Direction is still a popular topic in tabloids, he doesn’t want to give them anything new to gossip about.

He’s stayed quiet for too long, apparently, because Zayn’s got that wrinkle between his brows he gets when he’s worried and he asks, “You alright then?”

“Perfect,” Niall snaps. “Just needed a break from all,” he makes a vague gesture, “that. Guess you know what that’s like.”

Zayn’s face goes carefully blank. “What do you mean?”

Niall barks out a bitter laugh. “Forgot all about it already, then? Didn’t think you’d be that forgetful, it’s only been a little over a year.”

“Oh,” Zayn says. “That.”

Niall looks at him, incredulous. “Yeah, that. You really don’t care at all, do you?”

“You’re still mad at us, then? Is that why you cut us out of your life?”

“You cut us out of your lives, Louis and me! Suddenly Harry’s an actor, you release an album and Liam’s out there doing his own thing too, like we never even existed!” Niall feels much drunker than before suddenly, and so, so tired. One Direction was his life, the best job he could’ve asked for. He’s only been drifting since it ended, feels like he’s lost his footing. For good, maybe.

“Oh my god,” Zayn says. “I had this exact conversation with Louis a few weeks ago. We owe everything to the band, we all know that and none of us wanna act like we never happened! But we also knew we needed to get out of the whole 1D machinery, can’t you see that? It was running us all down. I just couldn’t take it any longer. Pushed through too long already, to be honest. And I did that for the fans, yeah, but also for you. You have to know that, Nialler.”

Maybe it’s the familiar nickname, but Niall has to close his eyes and lean against the wall beside him for a little bit.

“I know it was different for you,” he says eventually, softly. “Harder, like. Didn’t notice at first, to be honest, but it became hard to ignore, at some point. I know. And I know it’s fucking selfish of me but I still wanted to keep going. Wanted for us all to stay in love with it.”

Zayn leans against the wall next to him. Niall’s still got his eyes closed, but he can hear him shift and feels Zayn’s warmth through his jumper even though they’re not touching. It feels familiar, being this close and listening to Zayn breathe slowly.

“Do you want another drink?” Zayn says eventually and Niall finds himself nodding. It’s getting too chilly in just his jumper anyway. And he could definitely use another drink to deal with all these thoughts and feelings swimming around in his head.

It’s hard being mad at Zayn, when he’s right here and Niall gets his reasoning, if he’s honest. Besides, even Louis’ moved on by now, has gone into the studio with Steve Aoki and released a song, and last Niall heard he was planning on writing more music for himself. It’s no one’s fault but his own that Niall’s still stuck in this phase where he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. What he can do.

Inside, they find a small table in a corner, pretty sheltered from view. Niall’s good at avoiding paps, hasn’t had his picture taken at all yet this week and prefers it this way. The silence becomes awkward very quickly and Niall clears his throat.

“So,” he says. “When’d you talk to Louis? Last I heard he was still mad at you.”

Zayn shrugs with one shoulder. “Apparently, um… apparently Jo told him he should make up with me before…” he stops talking but Niall gets it, nods with a wry smile.

“Sounds like something she’d say.”

Zayn looks at him for a second, answers his smile with one of his own.

“It does.” He’s quiet again for a moment. “Felt bad when I couldn’t be there for his X Factor performance. I should’ve been there.”

Niall thinks back to that night, how they’d all ignored the shit standing between them for Louis’ sake, for Jo’s. How Liam and Harry still left way before he did. How fucking terrible everything was, except for the fierce love he had for Louis. Always has, actually. Louis’ the only one who really gets him, most of the time. They’re the two who didn’t want it to end, fought tooth and nail. Not that it helped, in the end.

Niall sighs. “It would’ve been nice, for support. But if he’s forgiven you anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Was an emotional night, that one.”

From the way Zayn’s looking at him, Niall thinks Zayn probably knows he means that in more than just one way. It reminds him how well they all knew each other, probably still do to some degree. He takes a big gulp of his beer, pushing down the bitterness he still feels sometimes. Zayn looks away, fingers tapping restlessly against the wooden table.

“So,” he says, wiping at the condensation his glass has left on the table. “What’ve you been up to?”

Niall shrugs. “Organised a few charity things. Golfed, and got me own managing company started.”

“That’s good, Niall,” Zayn says, and he sounds genuine. “Read about that, actually. You wanna find new talent?”

“Mhm,” Niall hums. “We’re focusing on that, yeah. Making golf more accessible for young people, and more attractive.”

“Glad you’re doing something you’re passionate about,” Zayn says. He hesitates for a second, then asks, “No music, then?”

Niall shrugs again. “Been writing a little. For others, like. What about you?” He has absolutely no interest in answering any more questions Zayn might have on the matter, and Niall’s very good at distracting people from what they originally asked, if he wants to. He’s not above using it on his friend if needed.

One drink turns into several and unsurprisingly, Zayn becomes emotional after a while. Niall used to know when to slow him down but he’s missed that point, clearly, when Zayn’s weepily staring into his empty glass a few hours later.

“She said she needed a break,” he mumbles. “Thought you were talking about that earlier. She said she needed a break but I know that’s it. She broke up with me.”

Clumsily, Niall pats his back. He doesn’t know much about Zayn and Gigi's relationship. They started dating when 1D’s hiatus was already within reach, but he can tell Zayn really liked her. Loved her, even. And if there’s one thing he can relate to, it’s having his heart broken.

Very resolutely, he doesn’t think about the notes on his phone, one liners and concepts and a few that could almost be song lyrics, all of them reflecting heartbreak.

“I feel like I haven’t had a productive day since the hiatus started,” he says, and it’s an admission he didn’t want to make, but it gets Zayn to snort quietly and lift his head a little.

“Look at us miserable twats. Getting drunk and crying about our lives in some pub. Pathetic.”

“When we don’t even have a right to, really,” Niall says. “Rich, famous, travelled the world twice over.”

“Sometimes I feel like no one understands that all that shit isn’t enough to make you happy,” Zayn says. “Like, it doesn’t even feel like we’ve been around the world or whatever. Not like we ever saw anything.”

“We should do something about that,” Niall blurts out, and it seems like the most logical thing to him. “Travel, like.”

“What, like we used to?”

“No,” Niall says, “the opposite. Travel and actually see things. Sleep in hostels. Backpack, whatever.”

Zayn stares at him. “Backpack? Have you met me?”

“It’ll be good for us!” Niall insists. “You could do it too, travel a little more low-key. Under the radar. Without hair products and brand clothes. I mean, you still have your face but I reckon we could do it. No one’d expect us.”

It’s a drunken idea and it could’ve just as easily ended with him and Zayn not talking again for months. Niall genuinely expected the whole thing to be forgotten right away anyway. But a week later, Zayn texts him.

Got your number off louis

I need to get away for a while

Did you mean it?

Niall did, does, somehow, even sober.

Which is how they end up on a plane to Portugal a day later, which is probably the most spontaneous and least planned trip Niall’s ever been on, and he’s been on a lot of short notice trips before. Usually though, they’re either meticulously planned by someone else or it’s him going home for a few days if his schedule clears up unexpectedly.

While they’re in the air, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible and not talking to each other, Niall wonders how good of an idea it was to do this with Zayn of all people. They haven’t really spoken in over a year, since December 2015 to be exact. Their last performance as a band was on the X-Factor, and right afterwards, Niall had been hopeful that things would work out, that they could all stay best friends despite the things that had been said behind closed doors over the past few months. Despite the fact that they obviously wanted different things. But then they’d all gone their separate ways “for the holidays” and all that anyone had heard from each other were generic “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” texts. Harry hadn’t shared his plan to go into acting with Niall, Zayn hadn’t told him he was going to release a solo album less than a year after their split. When PILLOWTALK came out in September, Niall had very nearly had a heart attack.

The only one Niall speaks to regularly is Louis. They text, call, Niall goes to see him in LA whenever he’s there, loves seeing little Freddie grow up and how proud Louis is of him. Sometimes it feels weird when it’s just the two of them, like something’s missing, but they don’t talk about that either.

Maybe he should’ve asked Louis if he wants to come see the world with him. But Louis probably doesn’t want to leave Freddie for months on end; Niall knows it’s hard enough for him to fly home to be with his family. Maybe Zayn will have had enough quickly, if they don’t find something to talk about soon. For now, they’re stuck with each other, and Niall intends to make the best of it. They were best friends not too long ago, for fuck’s sake.

“So why did you want to do this, suddenly?” he asks Zayn, who jumps a little and looks around them. The plane they’re on isn’t big enough for a separate First Class, they’re only separated from Economy through a curtain and the other passengers in First Class are much closer than they’re used to.

He seems to decide they’re safe though - everyone else around them is wearing a suit and seems to be working - and Zayn answers, “Couldn’t take the silence in my flat anymore, like. Didn’t want my mum and sister’s sympathy either. They’re too worried about me, y’know?”

“And I’m alright?”

Zayn gives him a wry smile. “Hopefully.”

“So no pity for you, got it. Complete change of scenery, coming right up.”

Zayn grins at that. “Thanks, mate.”

Their hotel is pretty central but nondescript, much less fancy than any hotel they stayed in as 1D, even in the beginning. It’s still nice, definitely enough for a night or two. They check in and head up to their rooms but agree to meet up at the elevator in an hour to do some sightseeing.

Niall sits on his bed for a minute before he checks out the room and ensuite, smaller than he’s used to but clean and nice. He opens the glass door and steps out onto the tiny balcony. It’s not exactly warm outside but the air smells like spring, somehow, and the whole climate is much nicer than it is in cold, wet London right now. Maybe Zayn isn’t the perfect person to travel with right now, given their history, and maybe this is all a stupid idea and too spontaneous. But Niall’s glad he’s here anyway.

Niall charges his phone and googles a few things about Lisbon, making a list of things they need to see and trying to figure out how long it’ll take them. They’ve got the rooms for two nights, because the world is big and they’ve got a lot more to see, but they could easily add another night or two if necessary. It’s not like they have any immediate plans for how to go on after Lisbon.

Really, how they decided where to go was mainly by checking Heathrow’s flight log and picking the one that sounded the warmest without committing to too long of a flight. Who knows, maybe they’ll be sick of each other by tomorrow and will have to fly home already.

The view from the balcony isn’t spectacular and it’s still too chilly in just a jumper, so Niall pushes off the railing with a sigh and heads back inside.

He hasn’t packed much so there’s barely anything to unpack. The time they’re gonna spend here isn’t worth the hassle either; it’s just the thought of wrinkly t-shirts that makes him move his stuff from his bag into the closet. A year ago, he’d have left all his stuff in his bag, no thought spared to wrinkles or anything. But a year ago he also had someone with him at all times making sure he’s well dressed, ironing his shirts if needed or just buying him a new one. These days, Niall finds comfort in doing stuff himself. Shopping, cleaning, laundry. It’s normal, and it’s something to do whenever he feels restless - which is most of the time.

Once he’s done, Niall texts Willie to let him know they’ve arrived safely. He’s the only one who even knows he’s left London. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone else. He might only be gone for a few days anyway.

Basil is probably gonna kill him once he finds out they’ve gone completely without security, but Niall feels like taking any security with them would get them spotted for sure. Now, he still hopes they’re gonna get through this without someone recognising them. They’re trying their best to stay under the radar.

no one killed anyone yet? Willie sends him after a few minutes.

shut up, were not that angry, Niall texts back. Willie was understandably taken aback when Niall told him who he’d be travelling with. It’s no surprise, considering he’s the one who got to hear most of Niall’s bitter whining about his bandmates. Former bandmates. Whatever.

just worried abt what could come up once you actually, you know, talk.

quit worryin. itll be fine.

With another sigh, Niall puts his phone on the bedside table with the screen down and lies down on the bed. It will be fine. They’re both adults, and what Niall feels towards Zayn these days isn’t anger anymore. He has to sort through the mess of his emotions, he knows that, and Zayn, Liam and Harry deserve as much from him. Eventually, he’s gonna get past this. He has to believe that.

The hour is over quickly and Niall grabs his jacket, wallet, phone and keycard, puts on a snapback and his sunglasses, and leaves his room. He debates knocking on Zayn’s door because he knows from experience that he’s probably not waiting for Niall by the elevator yet. He doesn’t though. It feels like overstepping somehow. Maybe if Zayn doesn’t show up in a few minutes.

He only has to wait about three minutes until he sees Zayn coming down the hall, though. “Sorry,” he says, “have you waited for long?”

“Nah, just got here too,” Niall says with a shrug. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Zayn nods, tugging the brim of his cap a little lower. Niall has always managed to flow under the radar pretty well, and he hopes Zayn can, too. Zayn’s face isn’t exactly an everyday face, is the thing.

“So what exactly are we doing today?” Zayn asks when they’re in the elevator. “I assume you have a plan?”

Niall chuckles a little. “‘Course I do. Apparently we’re supposed to ride Tram 28 first, because that’ll give us a first impression of the city and where everything is, which sounds logical to me.” He tells Zayn about their plans for the day until they’re at the tram stop, looking at the narrow tracks a little skeptically. They’ve bought a Lisboa Card at the airport, which allows them to go on public transport for free, but this doesn’t look like actual public transport, more like old-fashioned train tracks in a museum.

The tiny train that rounds a corner down the street and moves towards them a few minutes later looks like it belongs in a museum as well, but no one seems to have any qualms about getting on, so Niall raises an eyebrow at Zayn and they board too.

The tram moves pretty quickly and confidently considering they’re in a very old city with very narrow streets that are pretty crowded even in February, and Niall holds his breath every time two of them have to pass each other. He gets why this was the recommended first thing to do in Lisbon everywhere he looked, though. They do get a pretty good impression of the old city centre and the layout of the city (there are hills, like, everywhere) and it keeps them busy enough so they don’t have to talk much. Instead, they look out the window and point out the occasional sight or view and try to blend in with the other tourists.

They get off at Castelo, from where they have to walk a few minutes to get to Castelo São Jorge, their first destination.

“So,” Niall says, when the silence gets too awkward very quickly. “What’ve you been up to?” Which is a very stupid question since he’s heard Zayn’s album he only released a little over two months ago, and he knows Zayn’s going through a breakup. Plus, he’s pretty sure they covered all that when they ran into each other at the pub. But it’s out there now.

Zayn looks at him a little strangely, and Niall tries very hard not to cringe. “Well, promo, mostly. As you know. Magazines, photoshoots, radio interviews. You know the drill.”

“Is it any different alone?” Niall wants to bite his tongue as soon as it’s out. Of course it’s different, and this is dangerous territory they’re heading towards. He’s not looking to start a fight about the band again.

“Yeah, like, I get to talk all the time, for example.”

Niall chuckles a little. “Get to or have to?”

That gets him a crooked smile from Zayn. “Well, it’s not my favourite change, if I’m honest.”

“What’s your favourite change, then?” Niall asks.

“The music,” Zayn says without hesitation. “No offence, but you know our music was never really my thing, yeah? It just feels good to be able to say what I want to say with my music. Sing my words and no one else’s.”

Again, Niall’s mind goes to the notes on his phone for the briefest moment before he pushes it away. “Yeah, no, I get that.”

“You do?” Zayn sounds almost surprised, and it stings a little. Then again, Niall hasn’t really been the most supportive about this, so. He probably deserves it.

“Yeah,” he says simply and steps up to the counter to buy their tickets to the castle.

They walk across the stone bridge over the dry moat and through the big old gate (“This isn’t even that old,” Zayn says, pointing at the 1846 engraved in the stone) into a big courtyard. It’s decorated with old cannons and a bronze statue, and Niall heads towards the information plaque curiously.

“So this is the main square,” he reads. “The ruins of the royal palace are right over there. We could check them out if you want?”

Not much of the palace is left and they decide to skip the multimedia show about Portuguese history in one of the rebuilt rooms to head on instead. They get to the medieval castle quickly, and this one’s impressive. The walls are huge and all ten towers remain standing (or have been rebuilt, Niall’s not sure, but it all looks very old) around the rectangular castle. There are stairs leading up to the wall and the towers, and Niall turns to Zayn excitedly. “Wanna go up there? I know you’re not a fan of heights but it’s all very safe, I’m sure.”

Zayn frowns as he looks at the highest tower. “Okay, but you let me turn around as soon as it gets too much.”

“Of course!” Niall says, and for a moment he forgets when and where they are. “I’ll even hold your hand so you don’t fall.” Zayn’s head snaps towards him and Niall blushes bright red. “I mean, uh…”

“Okay,” Zayn says, and Niall tries to keep his surprise hidden. They haven’t really gotten back to the way they were in the band, always touching, and offering to hold Zayn’s hand seems weirder now than it did then. Maybe it doesn’t have to be, though. Maybe they can get back to being best friends slowly.

Niall feels very hopeful as they’re climbing the stairs up to the top of the wall, and once they get up there, the incredible view kind of takes his breath away too much to be thinking about much else.

“Holy shit,” Zayn breathes next to him and Niall laughs breathlessly.

“This was so worth it already,” he says and Zayn nods, apparently having completely forgotten how high up they are.

“How have we been to Lisbon like five times and never made it up here?”

“Look, that’s the statue Cristo do Rei,” Niall points out the statue on the other side of the bay. “A little like the one in Rio, yeah?”

“And that bridge behind it almost looks like the Golden Gate Bridge,” Zayn says, grinning at Niall.

“A little, yeah,” Niall laughs. “This is incredible.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, and then he suddenly makes a weird choked sound and reaches for the wall in front of them with one hand and for Niall’s arm with the other one. “Shit, fuck. I just looked down. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’ve got you,” Niall says, wrapping a hand around Zayn’s arm that’s gripping Niall’s arm so tightly it’s a little painful. “Look up, okay? That seemed to be alright earlier, didn’t it?”

“Looking into the distance is okay when I’m high up,” Zayn says faintly. “It’s looking down that makes me wanna be sick.”

“It’s cool, we can just stand here looking into the distance for a bit, then,” Niall says. “The view is incredible enough for that.”

Zayn nods, and his fingers loosen a little bit on Niall’s arm. “Maybe we can even watch the sunset from here.”

Niall takes a look at the sun that’s already pretty low and says, “Yeah, could do that.” He’s not sure watching a sunset from a Portuguese castle with your estranged ex-bandmate is an acceptable thing to do but then again he can’t really imagine anyone’s been in this situation before, so he doesn’t really care. This is the first time in a very long time he’s felt comfortable around Zayn and he’d like to keep it that way.

They’re quiet for most of the time they wait, but Zayn’s hand stays on Niall’s arm. At some point, Zayn asks Niall if it’s okay he’s holding on to him. “It reminds me I’m safe up here, somehow,” he says.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Niall says. “I don’t mind, and if it helps…”

They watch the sun set in silence until a guard finds them and lets them know the castle is closing so they have to leave. Niall takes the stairs ahead of Zayn so he feels safer and they’re back on the tram soon after.

“We should find somewhere to eat,” Zayn says as the tram starts rumbling downhill. “Once we get back to the city centre.”

“You up for some authentic Portuguese food, then?” Niall asks. “Or would you rather go somewhere different?”

“I could try Portuguese,” Zayn says. “Can’t say I have, and why not try it while we’re here?”

“Agreed,” Niall grins. “Let’s make this a real Portuguese experience.”

They find a tiny little restaurant where no one speaks English and they have to translate the menu piece by piece with Google Translate’s help until that takes too long and they just order stuff blindly. It’s fun and the restaurant is so loud things can’t get awkward even though they don’t talk for most of the evening.

Afterwards, they walk back to their hotel.

“This was a good day,” Zayn says after a while. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No, thank you for coming with,” Niall says. “I kind of really needed a change of scene.”

“Well, me too,” Zayn insists. “What’s the plan anyway? Like, are we gonna fly back home the day after tomorrow or did you really want to go other places?”

“Don’t really have a plan, to be honest with you,” Niall shrugs. “But I don’t wanna go home yet.”

“Me neither,” Zayn says. “We should keep travelling, then. Where do you wanna go?”

“Well,” Niall says, thinking for a moment. “We could rent a car and drive down to the south of the country? I’ve heard the Algarve is beautiful.”

“If you drive,” Zayn grins. “Sure. So, another day in Lisbon and then down south?”

“Yes,” Niall says. “Today was only a half day anyway, really.”

They spend the next day eating more Portuguese food (namely a lot of Pastéis de Nata. Neither of them can get enough of the sweet pastries) and taking the Elevador de Santa Justa, which is an elevator connecting the lower city, or Baixa, to a part higher up, the Largo do Carmo, and offers another incredible view over the city. They visit the Monastery of Jerónimos and walk through a lovely park to the famous Torre de Belém and the monument Padrão dos Descobrimentos.

“It celebrates the Age of Discovery during the 15th and 16th century,” Zayn reads while they’re looking at the huge monument by the river. “So basically when they stole other people’s land?”

“Basically,” Niall says. “I assume they know that now, though. Or hope, like.”

“At least it looks kind of cool,” Zayn says.

The monument itself is huge and decorated with a lot of statues representing important people from the Age of Discovery. On the ground on the Compass Rose Square in front of the monument, a massive compass rose and the mappa mundi have been formed using different limestones. Niall looks it up on his phone and the compass rose is 50 meters in diameter and the map of the world in its middle is 14 meters wide. It’s pretty impressive.

Zayn stays on that square while Niall rides the elevator up to the viewing platform of the monument, saying he’s been up on more than enough things on this vacation already.

Zayn looks tiny from up there when Niall looks down, and he takes a deep breath. Maybe he’s worried about nothing all this time. Maybe this whole trip is exactly what they needed to fix their friendship.

They have a very good dinner again and return to the hotel relatively early to get a good night's sleep before the day they have ahead of them.

Niall holds his breath when he has to show his ID to rent a car the next morning, but the middle aged man doesn’t show any signs of recognition when he looks at it and scans it for the paperwork. They’re out of the office quickly with the key to a red Seat Leon, a smaller car than Niall’s driven in a long time but wonderfully normal. The trick with not being recognised is blending in, and not staying in an enclosed area for too long, which makes train rides for example risky.

Generally, it helps that nobody should be expecting them to go around sightseeing. Niall has a few pictures he plans to post on his Instagram story over the next few days that imply he’s still in London, just to minimise their risk of being recognised.

They’ve barely started driving and left Lisbon when Zayn suddenly tells Niall to take the next exit.

“What?” Niall asks, checking the GPS that’s clearly telling him to stay on the road. “Why?”

“I saw a sign saying something like “natural reserve” if I translated it correctly. If not, the name is misleading because it sounded like natural reserve.”

Niall’s already using his indicator and turning onto the exit before Zayn has stopped talking. “Yeah, sure, let’s have a look around. ‘S not like we’re on a schedule.”

For a while, they follow the signs towards the reserve, past a town that looks like it was purely built for tourism, including the yacht harbour. The landscape around them is already beautiful, a narrow road leading through green hills along the shore and past plenty of signs telling them in multiple languages to stay on the roads and paths so as not to disturb the nature. Eventually, they reach a car park with a nice view over a small bay, and Niall parks the car.

“D’you wanna go on a short hike?” Zayn asks and Niall grins at him, pleased.

“Yes! ‘Course.”

They get their windbreakers from the backseat because the wind is whipping around the bushes and low vegetation pretty quickly, then follow the little path leading away from the car park.

Immediately, Niall knows pulling into the natural reserve was the right decision. The people belonging to the two other cars in the car park are nowhere to be seen, the path before them lies empty and quiet, the first flowers are blooming, the waves crash onto a beautiful sandy beach not far away, the sky is mostly blue and this is possibly the most beautiful thing they’ve seen on this trip so far.

They walk for a while, occasionally stopping to snap a picture, until they find a nice little bench with a lovely view over the beach and decide to sit there for a while, just watching the waves roll and the birds fly over their heads.

“This is really peaceful, like,” Zayn says. “Calm.”

“Yeah,” Niall says, watching a piece of driftwood being pulled further out into the sea by the waves. He takes his phone out, opens his notes and types, ‘waves washing away, rolling tide. don’t let relationships get washed away.’

“What’re you writing?” Zayn asks curiously and Niall jumps a little.

“Uh, nothing, I just… nothing.”

Zayn hums but doesn’t press him, which Niall is really grateful for.

Zayn’s always been good at that, knowing when to leave people be. Harry doesn’t get a hint, Liam will keep looking at you all concerned until you feel bad about not telling him anything, and Louis just keeps pushing. Zayn is more chill, and he’s never once made Niall feel guilty for keeping things to himself.

“Right,” Niall says, sitting up a little. “I’m gonna head down there to see how cold the water is. You in?”

Zayn snorts. “Mate, no way. It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Niall laughs and stands up. “Thought it was worth a try,” he says with a shrug, then heads down to the shore.

He takes off one shoe and hops on the other until he’s tugged off his sock as well, then stands in the cool, damp sand to take off his other shoe and sock. For a minute, he just enjoys the feeling of the sand between his toes, then takes a few tentative steps towards the water. It’s spring around here, but definitely not the right weather for a swim yet.

He doesn’t yelp when the water touches his toes but it’s close, because the first touch is fucking freezing. He calls as much over to Zayn who just laughs at him and calls him an idiot.

After a few moments though, it doesn’t feel as bad anymore and Niall bends down to cuff his jeans a little more, then takes a step further out so his feet are covered with water every time a wave breaks. He sends Willie a picture of his feet in the sea and takes a few steps along the beach, waves rolling around his feet.

The melody he’s humming isn’t one he’s heard before so he takes his phone back out and records a quick voice note, titles it “water/sea/tide”. He’s feeling more inspired than he has in a long time and suddenly wishes he had his guitar with him to strum some chords and see if something decent comes out of it. Maybe after they get back from this trip he can sit down and try to write. Maybe he can even address the question he’s been pushing back to the corner of his mind for months now - who is he writing for? Not now though, on a Portuguese beach with Zayn of all people only a few paces away.

He turns his back to the sea and walks across the sandy beach to the bench Zayn’s sitting on, head tilted back and eyes closed. He looks more relaxed already, not nearly as tense as he’s been looking since Niall ran into him in that pub.

Niall watches him for a moment, the way Zayn’s eyelashes fan across his cheeks, then sits down next to him to rub the sand from his feet. So that’s still a thing then, apparently. That attraction he felt towards Zayn since he first saw him, all those years ago at Boot Camp, hasn’t disappeared over the past year or so.

It’s nothing he’s ever acted on, hasn’t even really considered it since they were put in a band together, because Zayn’s his friend, they used to work together, he’s always been dating one way or another - there has always been a reason. Besides, Niall’s pretty sure no one can look at Zayn’s face and not be attracted to him. It’s not a thing, never has been.

Zayn’s looking at him when Niall’s finished putting his shoes back on, still looking like he’s enjoying himself.

“Back to the car?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Niall says, shrugging. “Unless you wanna stay around here for the night?”

“I mean, it’s beautiful here,” Zayn says, “but I’m sure so is the Algarve.”

“That’s what they say,” Niall grins. “Onwards, then.”

Niall had meant to take the scenic route along the coast but he follows their GPS out of the reservation and suddenly they’re on the motorway leading down south. Like this, the drive only takes them a little over two hours, but there’s no more breathtakingly beautiful views out the window. Zayn falls asleep early on though and Niall can focus on the road instead of the scenery, so it’s probably for the better.

They arrive in Faro around 5pm, and Zayn wakes up when Niall slows down the car. It’s clearly not a big city and it doesn’t take them very long to spot a hotel where they ask for two rooms. The lady at the reception desk seems thrilled to check them in, telling them people rarely make it down here before the weather’s warm enough to go swimming. Niall asks her about the water temperature and she laughs.

“15 degrees, maybe? You can go swimming but you might come back with a few bits frozen off.”

That makes Niall laugh in turn and Zayn next to him snorts quietly. “I better stick to the shore then, shouldn’t I?”

“I think there are many people who agree, handsome young man like you,” she says with a wink and Niall blushes, elbows Zayn when he waggles his eyebrows. The lady is at least 50 but Niall always blushes when someone compliments him, never knows how to react.

They head upstairs to their rooms - there’s only two floors and six rooms in total - with a whole bunch of recommendations from Ines, their new friend at the reception, and the offer to ask her anything at any time.

Niall’s room when he enters it is small and simple. The bedsheets, lampshade on the bedside table and curtains are all covered in a questionable flower pattern, but the bed is comfortable when he flops down on it.

The ensuite is clean as he takes a piss, washes his hands and face and puts on another hat in front of the mirror. He and Zayn have planned to wander around the historic city centre and the harbour for a while and find something to eat there, and Niall has to be down in the lobby again in ten minutes. He texts Willie a quick update – in south of portugal now, all well – and stretches his tired back before deciding to change his shirt too, just to feel fresher. Depending on how long they’re gonna keep going for, he’s gonna have to find a washing machine soon.

Ines waves at them when they leave the hotel and Niall lifts his head towards the evening sun with a smile once they’re outside. He could get used to this.

Their hotel is close to the city centre so they walk, Niall quietly while Zayn smokes a cigarette next to him. The streets aren’t empty but not crowded either, and Niall can only hear people talking in Portuguese, a stark contrast to Lisbon where tourists were everywhere and you could always hear at least two different languages being spoken at a time.

“Do you still have your fake ID?” Zayn asks suddenly.

“Yeah,” Niall says after thinking about it for a second. They’d all gotten a fake ID at some point in the band because it made flying under the radar a lot easier and clubs or hotels rarely had the opportunity to check if an ID was real. “Probably still in my wallet, actually. Why?”

“Just thought maybe we should use those in hotels from now on. In case someone does recognise our names, which is bound to happen. Someone’s gonna have a kid or whatever, and then everyone is gonna know.”

Niall hums. “Probably a good idea, yeah. Might have to get a fake credit card too, though, which might be harder.”

“I have one with no name on,” Zayn says. “You can ask your bank for that. They even gave me one that isn’t one of those prepaid cards. Think that’s possibly the celebrity bonus.”

“Ohhh,” Niall says, exaggeratedly impressed. “I see you’ve thought about everything.”

Zayn grins. “You know me.”

Faros city centre is charming, white houses, colourful houses, old houses and very old houses making up a pretty lovely mixture. It all leads to the harbour of course, which looks even prettier than the rest of the city in the setting sun. He takes a million pictures, has Zayn take one of him and in return takes one of Zayn too. They study a poster detailing the times and prices for boat trips to the surrounding islands and Niall snaps a picture of that as well, just in case he can convince Zayn it’s a good idea.

They find a lovely fish restaurant that’s on Ines’ list of recommendations (and at least 90% of the restaurants they see are fish restaurants) so they have dinner there. Niall has to admit the fish tastes better fresh like this, and Zayn grins at him happily over his huge plate of seafood.

Afterwards, they have a few drinks at a bar where everyone speaks Portuguese and no one gives a shit about them, and Niall feels lighter than he has in ages. This holiday has already proven to be better for him than he could’ve hoped. Sure, he and Zayn haven’t actually talked about anything, but they’re getting along and Zayn’s eyes don’t look quite so heavy anymore. It’s a win in his book.

Back in his room, Niall downloads an app that’s supposed to be a virtual guitar to try and turn the melody he’s hummed into his voice notes into chords. It’s been a while since he’s even gotten to this point by himself, and he feels a little jittery listening back to what he’s recorded. It’s not the same as strumming a real guitar but he’s bought the pro version and it’s… not bad. The song, if he can call it that already, too.

Niall closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath and opens a voice note he hasn’t listened to in almost a year. It’s the first thing he wrote back in March of last year, the only thing that made it past the vague notes on his phone that he hasn’t given away to anyone else. It feels personal in the same way this new thing does, and back then it kind of scared the hell out of Niall. Still does, a little. He presses play.

Listens to the delicate chords he plucked on his guitar, then his low voice. “Wakin’ up to kiss you and nobody’s there…”

It’s good, is the thing. Niall had nearly forgotten how good it was. He lies back against his pillow and throws his phone to the foot of the bed once the song is finished, covering his eyes with his hands. It’s not fair the band split up and everyone’s doing what they love while Niall just sits around waiting for them to want to reunite when he loves performing so much. Yeah, golf is amazing and he loves his work at Modest!Golf, is really proud of the charity things he’s helped organise, but - the thing he really, truly loves the most is music. Writing, recording. Performing. He misses it like he’d miss his arm if it was gone, sometimes.

The thought of doing it by himself is terrifying nonetheless. The promo, the whole big stage, the touring. He loves it, but he only knows it with four other people who are going through the exact same things, who understand him perfectly. He imagines it lonely by himself, without anyone to talk to. Can he even do it, cope with the stress and pressure that comes with the job all alone? Would anyone even listen to his music when what he really wants to do is a little different from what’s on the radio? And, most importantly, is he ready to spill his heart out like that in front of the world?

Niall falls asleep exhausted and without any answers.

Over breakfast - they’re the only ones in the small room in the back of the hotel with a view into a backyard that must be beautiful and cool in the summer, the coffee is good and the almond tarte Ines serves is so delicious Niall ends up completely ignoring the other breakfast options - Niall convinces Zayn to take a boat out to one of the islands just off the shore. Ines packs them sandwiches and some more almond tarte, much to Niall’s delight, when she learns about their plans for the day.

They end up being the only ones again, their captain a walking cliché of a Portuguese sailor who doesn’t speak a single word of English. They communicate through pointing mostly, but it seems to work because they arrive safely on the little island after only short trip across the windy bay. The island isn’t inhabited, seems to be mostly beach, and is part of another natural reserve. They get off the boat onto a small pier from which a wooden walkway leads further into the island and along the sand beach.

There’s a sign to a restaurant, which is obviously closed this time of year though, so Niall’s even more thankful for the lunch in his backpack. A map indicates the wooden walkway leads all around the island so they decide to follow it.

Niall finds that it gets easier to talk to Zayn with every day they spend together. They’re still not talking about anything substantial, but things no longer feel stilted between them so that’s definitely a positive change.

“Well, the name ‘Ilha Deserta’ makes sense, that much I can say,” Zayn says after they’ve rounded what must’ve been half the island. “It really is deserted.”

Niall laughs. “Kinda feels like we’re the only people on Earth.”

Apart from blue sea, sandy beach full of seashells and very low growing vegetation further into the island, they’ve only seen a small green and white striped lighthouse so far, no other sign of civilisation. The walkway occasionally stops and they have to walk through the sand for a bit until it starts again. The top layer of the soft sand is dry and warm, but as soon as you dig your toes in, it feels quite damp and cold. Niall wonders what this must like in the summer, when the sand burns the bottom of your feet and tourists are everywhere. He kind of prefers it this way.

They eventually get to an installation made of what appears to be large pieces of driftwood, stuck together with all sorts of string to stand upright. There are signs nailed to it indicating the distance to different places all over the world, like Lisbon, New York, Rome or Montreal.

“Look,” Niall says, “London is 1.730 miles from here.”

They take a break in front of five tiny huts that seem to be used for storage, one white and four blue ones. There’s a random collection of plastic chairs out front and they sit down on them, even though the sea water has clearly taken its toll on them and Niall almost expects his chair to break as soon as he sits down gingerly.

“These tartes really are the best thing ever,” Zayn says, opening his lunch bag. “Oh! She packed us these little cakes we had in Lisbon too - Pasteis?”

“Pasteis de Nata,” Niall supplies. “Really? Oh, Ines is a saint.”

“Didn’t you used to say you don’t have a sweet tooth?”

Niall grins, pleased Zayn remembers. “Yeah, well, I don’t when it comes to sweets. Like, I don’t need chocolate or gummy bears or whatever. But bake me a cake and I’ll love you forever.”

“I think I’d have to leave you on this island anyway if you refused to eat this cake,” Zayn teases and Niall laughs.

“Couldn’t even blame ya.” He bites into one of the little pastries and can’t help but moan a little bit, that’s how good it is.

Lunch is over quickly like that and Niall pats his stomach happily once they’ve finished their food, but they don’t sit around for long after.

On the rest of the way around the island, the only signs of civilisation are a red and white lighthouse and the restaurant they saw the signs for when they first arrived. It looks like it could be a nice place once the season starts and people actually start coming here.

“You know what,” Zayn says, looking at the restaurant thoughtfully. “I think it’s lucky we’re doing this during this kind of off season. Reckon we couldn’t travel to places like this once tourists are everywhere.”

Niall hums. “Maybe, yeah. Unless we’d be able to, like, blend in with them.”

“So you think we can keep going?”

“Yeah,” Niall shrugs. “Don’t you? Haven’t been recognised yet, after all.”

“Well,” Zayn says and laughs a little, “let’s keep risking it, then.”

Once they get back to the hotel, they pack up and check out, still early enough to get to their next stop by evening. Niall’s picked out Seville and when he looks out his window in the morning and sees it by daylight for the first time, he knows he’s chosen right. They walk around all day, spend a long time on the Plaza de España admiring the beautiful reddish buildings and the mosaics depicting the different regions of Spain.

Zayn takes a million pictures and keeps telling Niall that this is where they filmed part of Star Wars.

“This is the bridge Padmé and Anakin walk across on Naboo in Attack of the Clones. Niall, this is the exact spot!”

Niall grins and indulges him even though he cannot picture the scene for the life of him. Sure, he’s seen all the Star Wars films, but it’s been a while and he honestly probably didn’t pay attention to every single detail. He doesn’t have that kind of attention span when it comes to movies.

They buy tickets to get into the Real Alcázar, which is definitely worth it because the detail used in building this old palace is completely breathtaking.

“This kind of architecture is called Mudéjar Architecture,” Zayn reads from their pamphlet. “Mudéjar is the name given to Muslims who stayed in what today is Spain and Portugal after the Christian Reconquista.”

“That’s the time during which the Christians murdered and forcefully converted Muslims to Christianity,” Niall supplies helpfully.

Zayn gives him a crooked smile. “I’m sure they said they were just taking back what was theirs. Anyway, Mudéjar were Muslims who weren’t originally forced to convert, and as so often in the history of Christianity, they did keep what they liked from their culture. The palace was built by Christians on the site of a destroyed Muslim fortress and it’s actually still used as a royal residence whenever the royal family stays in Seville.”

“You have to hand it to them, this place is fucking beautiful,” Niall says, looking at a delicate mosaic wall.

“Just shouldn’t think too much about the grim history,” Zayn says, shoving the pamphlet in his pocket.

“Like practically everywhere,” Niall agrees, shivering. “Humans are despicable.”

Zayn squeezes his arm once, tightly, then wanders off to focus on the beauty of the architecture instead. To be fair, that isn’t a very hard thing to do and by the time they get to the absolutely stunning park, Niall’s forgotten all about the mood dampener.

There’s more mosaics to be admired on walls and benches, lots of plants in bloom already and lovely fountains sprinkling water.

Later, they wander around Seville a little more, see the Cathedral with its massive tower, a big archive in an old building and the Torre del Oro at the bank of the river Guadalquivir. In the evening, they head to the neighbourhood of Triana where they have a really good paella for dinner and catch a Flamenco performance in a tiny bar. Niall’s never really been into dance but this is possibly the most captivating and emotional thing he’s ever seen. There’s a man and a woman taking turns while three men in the background provide the music and beat, using a guitar, a cajón, their hands and voices. The way they sing is different from anything he’s ever heard but it’s so full of raw emotion that Niall feels like he understands their pain even though he doesn’t understand a word, doesn’t even know if they’re using words. In the foreground, the dancer moves her feet at a speed that shouldn’t be humanly possible, twisting her arms above her head and occasionally making sharp twists or snapping her fingers. Niall can’t seem to look away and after the last note is sung and the dancers have left the stage, he claps for a long time.

“That was incredible,” he whispers, and Zayn nods, an absent look on his face. He seems to have been hit just as hard as Niall has.

“That’s art, Niall,” he says. “Like, the real deal. I want to be able to do that, make people feel what I feel when they listen to my music.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, quietly. “That’d be cool.”

The next morning, he gets up early and buys an acoustic guitar in a shop near their hotel before he even meets Zayn for breakfast. The fact that there’s music shops on pretty much every street in Seville comes in really handy and he’s back so quickly that he can sit down and tune the instrument before he heads downstairs again.
He’s had a melody in his head since last night, sang it into his voice notes before bed, but he woke up itching to try it out on a guitar. It’s a sad one, he thinks as he plucks the strings and the notes ring out, clear and beautiful and sad. He’s missed this, and suddenly the words are there as well, plucked from one of the concepts he’s had in his notes app for a year now. A year since he’s had his heart broken and he’s over it, is over her, but he still remembers the pain from when it was fresh and it’s there in his voice, his words, when he sings along, tries to fit the lyrics around the melody.

My shadow’s dancing, without you for the first time

My heart is hoping, you’ll walk right in tonight

It’s good, Niall knows that right away even as he’s changing up words to fit into the rhythm of the music. This really has potential.

He’s late for breakfast but he has the main construct of a song recorded on his phone. When Zayn asks, Niall tells him he’s late because he went out to buy a guitar.

Zayn laughs. “As if you don’t have enough at home,” he says, but it sounds almost fond. “As long as you can still carry your own luggage.”

Niall doesn’t tell him about the song, but he’s not sure why.

Their next stop is Granada, and the first thing Niall realises is that a car might not be the best means of transport around this town. Their hotel is in the old part of the city, called the Albaycín, and even the streets where cars are technically allowed are so narrow the speed with which the little red buses drive through them makes Niall uncomfortable as he tries to navigate them to the hotel parking garage. They can’t even drive all the way to the hotel because the streets get too small.

The second thing he notices once he gets out of the car is how much colder it is here than it was in Seville. They’re like 700 metres higher than the coast now, halfway up to the Sierra Nevada, and it’s clear in the air that feels completely different up here. It’s still warmer than it must be in England right now and neither Zayn nor Niall mind the short walk across the narrow, cobbled street much, even though the wind turns out to be quite biting.

Their hotel is tiny but very charming and warm despite being in a really old building with whitewashed, uneven walls keeping out the chill. They’ve got adjoining rooms and seem to be the only guests, if Niall understands correctly. His Spanish is a little rusty and the lady at the reception started talking really quickly as soon as she realised that he understands at least some of what she’s saying.

They don’t do much more than drop their bags off in their respective rooms though before leaving again, because the drive was long enough to let them both get hungry. It’s not hard to find a place to eat though; the path leads them downhill and onto a white-tiled plaza, called Plaza Nueva, which is completely surrounded by restaurants, cafés and bars. They’re probably all tourist traps but since they’re hungry and money isn’t really an issue, they pick a Moroccan restaurant anyway.

“Maybe we should go to actual Morocco as well,” Zayn says while they sit in the quiet back of the colourful room, waiting for their Couscous and Tajine.

“Yeah, well, Africa’s on my travel list anyway,” Niall agrees. “Like, we’ve been to so many places but there’s also still so many places we haven’t been. I could probably spend a couple years travelling.”

“I can imagine worse things, to be honest.”

Niall hums, hesitates a little before he says, “But… you released an album only what, three months ago? Four? Don’t you have to do promo? Or prepare for tour or something?”

Zayn sighs deeply. “That’s what everyone says, at least.”

“Sorry,” Niall says. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want. I was just… wondering. Not that your album isn’t doing great without all that stuff, anyway.”

“Nah,” Zayn mumbles, looking down at his plate. “It’s cool. I just… it’s a lot, you know? Doing it all on my own?”

It sounds like a question, but Niall nods. “I get that. I worry about that too, actually. If it’d be too much to handle.”

“You planning on doing the solo thing, then?” Zayn asks.

Niall shrugs, and it’s still probably the most he’s confided in anyone about this. “Don’t, like, have any plans or whatever. Just been thinking about it, whether it’s something I could do or not.”

“To be honest, if any of us could do it, it’s you.”

“What?” Niall laughs. “You’ve met Harry, right? Or Liam?”

“We both know you’re better than what you got in 1D,” Zayn says and he sounds almost stern. “I’ve heard you sing off stage, and other people’s songs. Plus, you’ve got that… dunno, everyone you meet immediately loves you, feels like. Reckon you’d do alright by yourself.”

Niall’s cheeks feel hot and he hopes he’s not as red as he thinks he is.

“Well, thanks mate,” he presses out, trying to sound as normal as possible even with the anxiety clawing at his throat. “Appreciate that.”

Zayn looks at him for a long moment and Niall breathes deep and slow, concentrates on that and tries to forget everything else. It seems to work, because Zayn gives a nod and goes back to his food. After a minute, so does Niall.

Niall’s really good at telling himself he needs to figure things out himself before he talks to anyone else about it, and it helps pushing down the guilt he feels about lying to Zayn when they finish up their lunch and head out to see some sights.

The city of Granada seems to be a sight by itself – the narrow streets and big, often colourful houses are really quite picturesque – but there’s a lot more to see. They cross off the huge Catedral, Plaza Bib-Rambla with its many restaurants and a few smaller plazas, then head all the way down to the river Genil and sit in the sun in a café by the river bank. There are palm trees there, and the view of the snowy mountain peaks of the Sierra Nevada contrasts with that so nicely that Niall feels like he could stay here for much longer.

They buy tickets to get into the Alhambra, the old Muslim fortress and palace towering on a hill above Granada, the next day and are told they’re lucky there’s still tickets for their particular time slot, which surprises Niall a little. It’s only February after all, are there really that many tourists already?

“In the summer, tickets sell out weeks in advance,” the lady at the counter tells him when he asks and Niall nods gravely. The streets already feel a little crowded; it must be crazy in the summer.

They don’t get dinner because they figure out that you get free tapas wherever you have a drink, and so they head from bar to bar, getting a little closer to their hotel and drinking light spanish beer and tinto de verano, which apparently is red wine mixed with lemonade, and get a variety of food with it - onion rings, croquetas, all sorts of fish and meat, grilled, cooked or in a pastry of sorts, potatoes in different shapes with or without sauces… it’s a good night, and when they leave the last bar much later, the bad aftertaste from the talk with Zayn is completely gone.

The walk back to their hotel is long and steep enough to sober them up a little, but when they arrive Zayn still leans against the door to his room, looks at Niall and says, “I can’t sleep yet.”

“Who says you have to?” Niall grins. “If you want, we can chill in my room for a bit.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zayn says with a shrug and follows Niall into his room.

They used to do this all the time, back in the band, but they usually had suites or at least a separate couch, whereas this room is so small, there’s only the bed, a small desk with a chair, and a wardrobe opposite the bathroom.

Zayn sits down on the edge of the bed a little gingerly and Niall moves to turn on the TV, but Zayn stops him.

“D’you think you could teach me?”

“Teach you what?” Niall asks, but then he sees that Zayn’s looking at his new guitar, leaning against the wall. “Oh! Um, I could try? Dunno if I’m any good as a teacher.”

“You helped Harry, innit?”

Niall nods, even though he feels like that was a lifetime ago. “We could give it a go, yeah.”

For an hour, Niall explains Zayn how to hold the guitar, how to remember which string is which, how to strum, pluck and tune them. Zayn’s fingers are less sensitive than he expected from a beginner, maybe from all of his DIY stuff, but they still start to hurt eventually and he pulls them off the strings with a frustrated huff.

“You know, you actually held out for way longer than I expected,” Niall says. “Well done, really! It needs a lot of time and practice, but we can do a little of that every night and you’ll improve real quick, I’m sure.”

Zayn yawns and Niall can feel the tiredness catching up with him, too.

“Thanks, Nialler,” he says. “An hour every night?”

“Or less, depending on how your fingers feel,” Niall says, a little worried. He knows how Zayn sometimes forgets to eat when he gets too into his art. “They need to get used to the strings first.”

When Niall’s in bed not much later, he can’t help thinking about how good things are going with Zayn right now, how used to each other they’re getting again. How well they still know each other. This train of thought is a dangerous one, because, well -

Back when they first started out, Niall was half in love with Zayn, if he’s honest with himself. He wasn’t honest back then, not about his sexuality and definitely not about Zayn, and he hasn’t ever been even after he figured out the whole sexuality thing, but looking back, it really went deeper than a teenage crush.

But Niall was good at convincing himself nothing was the matter even back then, and with everything that was going on at the time, he buried those feelings pretty successfully. They stayed buried for the longest time, only resurfacing occasionally when Zayn would do something especially lovely, or maybe when Niall was feeling lonely and sorry for himself, and started digging them up again like the masochist he can be.

It never stood in the way of their friendship, and Niall never thought it influenced how he acted around Zayn.

Now, after two weeks of spending more time with Zayn than he has in ages, he still hasn’t gotten back to that comfortable point where he doesn’t think twice about what he says or how he touches Zayn. He’s not sure what it is, honestly - the year they didn’t see each other that’s standing between them, or the stupid feelings that are making their way to the surface like flower seeds in the spring.

He groans and buries his face in his pillow, trying to get Zayn’s smile when he played his first perfect chord out of his head. He needs to be careful.

In the morning, they figure out what to do before heading to the Alhambra over breakfast. “Apparently there’s a bunch of viewing points all around this area,” Niall reads from his phone, “and it says here the Mirador de San Miguel Alto is worth the steep trip up. I’m not sure we’ll have time for that, though, so maybe we should just do the most popular one – Mirador de San Nicolás.”

“Well, there’s probably a reason why it’s so popular,” Zayn shrugs. “Plus, it’s just around the corner from here. So let’s do that. And then, I don’t know, go up to the Alhambra through that one gate everyone talks about or pass through the old Jewish quarter we read about yesterday?”

“I’d say option two, the Realejo. Don’t you want to see the street art they apparently have around there?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Zayn says, and his smile right then is exactly the reason why Niall can’t seem to ignore his feelings this time around.

The view they get from San Nicolás not much later explains the popularity of the spot - it’s the Alhambra in all its glory. The walls are plain and of a reddish colour, but the sheer size of it, the elegant and almost fragile towers spread along the length of the hill, make it look like the royal palace it was. The front part, facing the city, looks more like a fortress than the rest does, but it still seems almost light. That the Christian kings - obviously - used it for the same purpose as the Muslim emirs is only obvious through one, slightly misplaced seeming and much bulkier building smack in the middle of the complex.

As beautiful as the view is, though, Niall eventually finds himself looking at Zayn more than it. He seems at ease, and it doesn’t surprise Niall, because this city seems to be made up of everything Zayn enjoys. Despite of all the tourists, it has a very chill vibe; there’s art and artists everywhere, people sitting on a wall or a bench or the ground and sketching, colouring, taking pictures, the smell of weed around every corner and dogs wherever you look. Plus, the sudden view of the Alhambra when you round a random corner kind of takes your breath away.

That view is a little more obscured from down in the Realejo because it’s right at the foot of the hill the Alhambra is on, but they’re more focused on what’s right in front of them anyway. The colourful houses look different from the other parts of town, definitely closer to the city centre than the Albaycín though, and there really is street art everywhere. Zayn stops for everything, takes pictures or just stares for a while, and Niall gets it. He’s not that into art, really, but this is very cool and he finds it very impressive what people can do with art of this scale. It must be incredible if this is something you know how to do yourself.

Later, inside the Alhambra, they wander through the gardens first. Not much is in bloom yet but it’s easy to imagine how beautiful it must be once it is, because it’s pretty fucking beautiful already. There’s a smaller palace back behind the gardens, the Generalife, and its walls are white instead of red but the style is the same airy lightness, and the patios full of fountains and reflecting water are absolutely stunning. From the windows, they can look over to the other side, the Albaycín and where they stood earlier, Mirador de San Nicolás. Niall could probably enjoy this view forever, but they have an allocated time slot for the Nasrid Palace that they can’t miss.

They have to queue with everyone else from their time slot to get into what was the actual palace, the living quarters for the emirs, and it makes Niall feel on edge. Queueing breaks one of the rules he’s set for being in public spaces: staying in an enclosed space for too long. It gives people too much time to look at them and figure out that maybe it is them after all. His nerves make it hard to get excited for what’s to come, but once they’re inside, he forgets about them very quickly.

The detail is absolutely incredible: the patterned and colourful tiles on the walls and above, arabic writing in stucco, delicate and even more beautiful than the ceilings made from intricately carved wood. The style is a little similar to the palace they visited in Seville, but what makes this even more beautiful in Niall’s eyes is the view over Granada they get from every window.

So obviously it’s here, where Niall’s too busy being stunned, that his nerves get proven right.

“Excuse me,” a girl with an American accent says, and both Zayn and Niall turn around so quickly she seems a little startled, “um, I’ve been wondering for a bit now - aren’t you that guy from One Direction? Zayn?”

No one says anything for a few seconds and then Zayn clears his throat. “Um, yeah. That’s me.”

“I loved your song, Pillowtalk, was it?” she says. “OMG, my friend used to be obsessed with One Direction, she’s gonna die when I tell her I met you. Her favourite was always that blond guy, though. What’s his name again? I know it’s not Neil, but-”

“Niall,” Zayn says, and she nods.

“Right! Yeah, sorry! Anyway, sorry to bother but could I maybe get a picture with you? Just to prove to my friend I’m not making this up.”

“Look,” Zayn says while Niall’s trying very carefully to keep his face blank, “I’m kind of on a private holiday here so I’d really appreciate it if you could keep this quiet for, like, a week or something. I’ll take a picture with you if you promise not to post it anywhere until at least next week.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! No worries, you can trust me,” she says, then looks at Niall for a second. “Maybe your friend can take the picture?”

“Sure,” Niall says, putting on his best London accent and taking her phone to snap a picture of the two of them. The lighting isn’t ideal, but that’s fine with him. The fewer clear pictures other people have of this trip, the better.

“Thank you so much,” the girl says once they’re done. “It was so nice meeting you, thank you for the picture! I’ll keep it to myself for a week, promise.”

“Thank you,” Zayn says, “appreciate it.”

She walks away to rejoin a couple that looks to be her grandparents, and Niall lets out a breath.

Zayn squeezes his arm once, a little worried. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, laughing a little. “Thought I was gonna shit my pants for a second there. No way she’d keep it to herself if she’d recognised us both.”

“So you’re not, dunno, mad she didn’t recognise you?”

“No,” Niall says, running a hand through his hair that’s only really blond at the tip these days m. “Was glad the hair’s doing its job.”

“Close call, that,” Zayn agrees.

“We should probably avoid places like this, then,” Niall sighs. “It gives people too much time to place our faces.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, “but one person in two weeks is a good quota, yeah? Don’t worry too much. Genuinely thought you were gonna, like, explode on me there for a bit.”

Niall grins weakly, feels his fingers shake still.

After they exit the Nasrid Palaces - definitely worth the hype - they visit the last part of the Alhambra they haven’t seen yet, the Alcazaba, the fortress on the front side of the hill. They climb the biggest tower, taking in the view and the already-low sun before they climb down again and head back to the Albaycín. When the sky turns pink over their heads they decide to head over to San Nicolás once more to see the sun set over the Alhambra, which, as it turns out, is exactly the right decision.

The sky is pink and purple above the warmly lit Alhambra, the mountains in the background a dusky blue. It’s so beautiful it can’t be captured on their phones, even though they try their best.

“This makes even me want to paint,” Niall sighs. “Good idea to come here, Zayn.”

Málaga is next on their list, and the hip city by the Mediterranean Sea is the warmest they’ve had it so far on their trip. It’s quite a contrast to the historic places they’ve been to last, but Niall really enjoys it nonetheless. There’s just something about living right by the beach that makes people a special kind of relaxed and open.

But then someone snaps a picture of them in a bar. It’s pretty dark and far away, but sneaky pics like this always end up on Twitter, and at least some people will definitely believe it’s them. Niall’s seen it happen too many times.

They leave as quickly as possible and when Niall checks twitter back at the hotel, he finds his mentions full of people asking him if he’s in Spain, and if that’s really Zayn with him. With shaking hands, Niall looks at his Instagram and realises it’s been almost a week since he last posted a shot of him in his living room in his story. He’ll post a new one tomorrow, maybe. Now would be suspicious, too close to the sighting. It’d seem like the cover up it is. At least the rumours haven’t taken off so much that Basil’s texted him or anything - if Bas finds out Niall and Zayn have been travelling Europe without any security with him, it won’t be nice.

Zayn knocks on his door for their nightly guitar lesson not much later and suggests they leave Spain.

“People will be looking for us here now,” he says. “Maybe we’ll be fine somewhere else completely.”

So they drop off their rental car at the airport the next day and get on a flight to Warsaw.

It’s back in the cold again, colder than England actually, but the coats and scarves and hats they buy add another level of security. They do Krakow and Prague and Vienna like that, all beautiful in their own way, at a pace that feels less relaxed than it did in Portugal and Spain. Never in one place for too long.

The pace, the underlying nerves in combination with the fact that they’ve been on the road for three weeks. Soon, Niall can feel it getting to him - the typical, bone deep exhaustion that comes with this kind of travel.

They’re in Budapest when it all comes to a head.

Neither of them sees it coming, even as Zayn puts Niall’s guitar down after their guitar lesson and asks, “So why haven’t you tried doing the solo thing?”

“Um,” Niall makes, stumped.

“Sorry,” Zayn says. “Just. When I asked you last time you said you’d started thinking about it, yeah? But that’s not all, is it?” He pauses, then says, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want. I just thought - what are we even doing this whole thing for if we can’t be honest with each other?”

Niall tries telling himself Zayn doesn’t mean it that way but it feels like he’s being put on the spot. Like he has to tell Zayn or he’s the one endangering their relationship. So he tells him.

About the notes on his phone, the few songs he’s actually finished but gave to other artists, his doubts about doing it on his own, about the fear of showing his deepest thoughts and feelings to the entire world.

For a minute, it almost feels good to finally say it out loud.

“It is scary, putting yourself out there like that,” Zayn agrees. “But you don’t have to share with anyone who your songs are about. You’ve always been good at keeping your private stuff away from the public eye. I’m sure you can keep that up.”

“Maybe,” Niall says, and he’s already regretting spilling everything. He hasn’t… figured things out enough for himself yet to be having a discussion about it. He can feel the knot of resentment in his chest, resentment towards Zayn for making him do this. “But when there were five of us, no one really cared about me that much anyway. It was easy to hide behind you guys when most people only wanted to know about, well, you and Harry, mostly.”

Something flashes across Zayn’s face before he seems to shut down completely, hiding any emotion from Niall. He’s always hated when Zayn did that.

“Well, you dodged a bullet there, I hope you know that,” he says coldly. “I know Harry’s had some shit thrown at him but the really vicious stuff? Always me. No one’s ever twisted every word you said and put it in a completely different context, no one’s ever accused you of drug problems, of being a fucking terrorist, have they? So don’t come to me crying about how you didn’t get any attention when everyone knows you got the better end of the stick.”

There’s a piercing headache forming right behind Niall’s eyes and he’s so, so tired all of a sudden, but also really pissed. “You know I didn’t mean that, what the fuck, Zayn? I know you’ve had it the hardest out of all of us. Christ, I’m too tired for this shit.”

“Yeah, well I’m not in the mood to have this discussion with you anyway,” Zayn says, turning towards the door. “I fucking told you you had the talent to do it on your own, stop using me to hide your cowardice.”

He pulls the door open and Niall is too stunned to say anything, too hurt, so all he does is yell “Fuck you!” right before the door closes behind Zayn.

He drops down on his bed, pressing his hands to his eyes to try and get rid of the headache. He has no idea what just happened, and he wishes he could at least take back the last thing he said to Zayn. Wishes he could wake up properly and talk this through with Zayn in a calm, mature way. He never meant to imply that Zayn had it better in the band. Niall knows he didn’t, and he doesn’t even feel that bitter about having a backseat in the band, so to say. He knows he’s been very lucky in his lifetime, and he has One Direction to thank for everything. Only sometimes, he thinks back to how he got up on stage on his own when he was 15, 16 so full of confidence, and now the thought of doing that for real, giving a solo career a shot, fills him with crippling anxiety. Yeah, the 1D fans are a passionate lot and some of them would probably still support him but - what if he’s not good enough on his own? He doesn’t want to be made a laughingstock by critics.

Then his thoughts go back to Zayn. Yes, he didn’t really want to talk about his insecurities yet, and Zayn made him do it. And yes, Zayn obviously holds more bitterness towards their time in 1D than he’s let on. And apparently, Niall made it sound like he was belittling his experiences, which he honestly hadn’t meant to. He can feel the frustration building again, the irrational anger towards Zayn for storming out and not taking the opportunity to clear things up with him.

It’s too late and he‘s too tired to be this mad, so Niall puts on the TV and decides to numb his mind until he can sleep. Maybe a good night’s sleep will leave them both less touchy and more willing to actually listen to what the other has to say. They can talk about it in the morning.

When Zayn doesn’t show up for breakfast, Niall isn’t too worried. Back when they used to tour, Zayn often slept in until noon or even later, and Niall figures they deserve a day of rest.

He spends the morning with his guitar and by noon, he has something that already sounds a lot like a song, tentatively titled “I Need Love” and inspired by the notes he took when he was sat in Pret once, watching people around him interact. He does that, sometimes, writes down little stories he imagines around people he sees and then writes a song based off that. In a way, it’s easier than writing about his own feelings, especially with how messy they were or still are, if he’s honest. But on the other hand, writing about what he knows comes naturally to him. He doesn’t know what’s better. Once he gets back home, he’s probably gonna sit down with a couple of songwriters, some of his friends maybe, and go through the stuff he’s written, clean it up a little to see if it’s any good. And then, after he’s seen the results, he can decide what he wants to do with them.

When he’s starting to get hungry, he figures asking Zayn to come along for lunch might be nice, a first peace offering before they talk things through and fix them. But when he goes to knock on Zayn’s door he finds it open with room service inside replacing the bedsheets and no Zayn inside. None of his luggage either, actually.

“Excuse me,” Niall says, startling the girl who’s cleaning the room. “Did the guy in this room go out? Do you know where he went, by any chance?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “the guest checked out this morning.”

Almost automatically, Niall thanks her and backs out of the room before he slumps against the wall about halfway between their rooms. What the fuck?

He stands there for a few minutes, mind racing, before he decides that maybe room service got it wrong or he mixed things up in his jumbled brain and he didn’t even go to Zayn’s room. Those possibilities cheer him up a little, so he decides to go downstairs to find out more. Reception is hard to convince to tell him anything at all, but when they do, it’s the same thing – Zayn checked out.

Feeling weirdly numb, Niall goes back up to his room and sits on the edge of the bed for a while, trying to get his brain back on its usual track so he can start unraveling his thoughts and feelings about the situation. It’s almost a little scary how hurt he feels. The thing is, Niall never did anything about his crush, never said anything. Usually, he doesn’t even acknowledge it to himself. But still, somewhere deep down, he was sure Zayn felt differently about him than their other bandmates too. He’s never voiced this, not even to himself, but. Zayn always used to be a little more careful with him, a little sweeter, a little more vulnerable. Louis was his best friend in the band, no doubt. But Niall was something, too. Something completely different.

So the fact that Zayn would leave after a fight like this, a spat when they were both exhausted and not thinking straight, hurts more than it should because Niall, in the back of his mind, always kind of assumed they would figure things out eventually. Even through a year without contact, there was always that hope in the back of his mind that Zayn would show up on his doorstep, or something.

Sat on the edge of a hotel bed in Budapest, Niall realises how stupid that was. How stupid he is for keeping these feelings for Zayn somewhere in his heart all this time. Most of his past relationships didn’t work out because of his job, but maybe Zayn was part of the reason, too, even if Niall wasn’t aware of it himself. He’s hurt, and he’s angry, and he decides that this has to be the end of it. Zayn left, and that’s it.

He’s in no mood to keep travelling on his own, so he gets on a plane back home in the evening. He’s back home late enough for Willie to be in bed already, which is fine with him because he’s also not in the mood to explain what happened. Willie warned him, and he was right.

When he wakes up, the last thing Niall wants is to be alone with his thoughts now. He texts Jamie Scott, who, thanks to technically being a stay-at-home dad right now, is free a lot of the time and tells him to come over almost immediately.

They’re in the little studio in his basement for five days and come out with a whole bunch of songs, based on Niall’s notes and voice notes. They’ve also done some work with the song they wrote last year, This Town, and Niall still likes it so much he can’t bear giving it away. The other two he likes best they’ve named Too Much to Ask and Mirrors. The rest - don’t feel quite right yet. He doesn’t know if it’s because he wrote those two songs while travelling, but back here in London, he can’t seem to get anything else right.

Him and Jamie are in agreement though: these songs are too good and too Niall to give away. Which leaves the terrifying thought that he’s gonna have to do something with them at some point, and the even more terrifying thought that he’s probably gonna have to keep writing songs as good as these. He can’t just leave it at three songs, right? But so far, nothing else has worked out, no matter how much Jamie’s tried to help.

For a week or so, Niall keeps busy by going to the gym, playing golf and catching up on his work for Modest!Golf, but he feels restless nonetheless. Just looking at his guitar makes him feel uneasy, and that’s the worst thing he can imagine. Usually, a guitar in his hands means comfort and security.

So in another probably too rash decision, he asks Willie to come on a trip with him to Asia while they’re sat watching a documentary about Vietnam.

“Obviously I want to go,” Willie says, “but is this about your moping after that last trip?”

“I’m not moping,” Niall protests, but Willie still looks unimpressed.

“I’m not even gonna argue with you. I’ll need a bit of time to ask for time off but I do want to go to Asia. We could ask Martin along, don’t you think? He’s got some time left in Down Under before he comes back here but he hasn’t got a job right now anyway.”

Which is exactly how Niall ends up on a plane to Australia barely a week later. The plan is to spend a week and a half with his cousins and the lads there, then he and Martin fly over to Bali, where they meet up with Basil and Willie. Niall’s asked Basil along this time because he wasn’t even angry when he found out Niall had been gallivanting around Europe with a former bandmate without any security, just seemed so genuinely worried and a little disappointed that Niall just can’t do that to him again.

But Niall’s barely gotten settled in Australia when he misses a call from Zayn. He doesn’t leave a message, but a few hours later Niall gets a text: Can we talk? X

For a second, his anger flares back up, but the longer he looks at the X on his phone screen, the weaker his resistance gets. It’s a little pathetic, but the part of him that wants to be close to Zayn is still stronger than the hurt he still feels.

Still, he doesn’t want to make it too easy for Zayn, so he texts, what about ?

Come on niall, Zayn texts back immediately this time, you know about what

His phone rings again, and this time, Niall answer the video call.

“Hey,” he says, and “Hey,” Zayn says back.

He looks sleepy and soft and something twists in Niall’s chest.

“I do know what you want to talk about,” he admits, “and it’s really important that we talk about it.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, “I might’ve overreacted a little. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“I overreacted, too. And maybe I should’ve been more understanding, dunno. Maybe I should’ve done more to help you, back in the band.”

Zayn’s quiet for a minute. “Can’t change that now, can we? I never wanted you boys to enjoy it less, I’m not… mad or whatever.”

“I’d get it if you were,” Niall says.

“Hey,” Zayn says. “I know you didn’t want to tell me those things about your doubts and stuff, and I’m sorry I made you feel pressured. I really meant it, though, that you didn’t have to tell me if you weren't ready. Should’ve made that clearer. Oh, and I don’t think you’re a coward, obviously.”

Niall laughs. “I am a little, though. Just didn’t wanna admit it, I guess. But yeah, I’m sorry too. For all the things I said, and… for those I didn’t say when I should’ve.”

“Well, I’m sorry for storming off like a huffy teenager,” Zayn says. “Dunno what got into me.”

“It was probably the tiredness,” Niall shrugs. “Think that was it for me, at least.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees. “Wow, we really solved that like adults, didn’t we?”

“Look at us communicating,” Niall laughs. “Thanks for making me talk.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, then, “hey, where the hell are you? I just woke up but it looks like evening, or am I imagining that?”

“Nah, it is,” Niall says, a little embarrassed to admit he ran all the way to Australia. “I’m with Deo and Martin.”

“In Australia?” Zayn exclaims, and then starts laughing. “Wow, you really wanted to get away, huh?”

“It had nothing to do with you!” Niall says, and then wants to slap himself because maybe Zayn didn’t even think it was about him but now he definitely will. “Turns out I can’t write anything decent at home.”

“How long are you gonna stay there?”

While Niall tells him about their plan, he can see Zayn’s eyes light up even through the phone screen.

“Not tired of travelling yet, then?” he asks and Niall shakes his head, grinning.

“Was planning on taking it a little slower than what we did in Europe, maybe it’ll save me from telling anyone to fuck off.”

Zayn laughs quietly at that. “Probably true. Think we might’ve overdone it and slipped into our old tour mode anyway, yeah?”

“Think so,” Niall sighs. “After we left Spain in a rush we sort of started stressing.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says. “So… you don’t have to say yes, and if you’ve already booked that’s fine as well obviously, but I still haven’t figured out what to do with myself all alone here, so… is there space for one more in your travel group?”

~

Zayn doesn’t arrive in Bali on the same plane as Willie and Basil, but it doesn’t really matter who arrives when because they spend the first few days mostly relaxing at the pool or the beach anyway - at least while it isn’t raining. Obviously they’ve managed to get here in the last month of rainy season, which means an hour or two of the heaviest rainfall Niall’s ever seen about twice a day and beautiful sunshine the rest of the day. It’s probably good for his Irish skin that he gets a little break in between.

As soon as they’re all there, they start doing the more exciting things: they visit temples (from the outside, like Pura Tanah Lot, which can only be entered by Hindus but is definitely worth a visit anyway simply because of the way it’s built on a rock just off the coast, or getting the full experience at Pura Tirta Empul, where they’re even allowed to take a bath in the holy spring water), go snorkeling, and even get up at 3am one time to go on a guided hike up a volcano to see the sunrise. It’s really hard (especially getting Zayn to wake up), but the sunrise is worth it. They nap on the beach for the rest of the afternoon after they get back.

On their last day, they visit the Monkey Forest, a sanctuary and forest area where monkeys live freely and there are three temples to visit. The monkeys aren’t as cute as Niall imagined because their teeth are pretty long and sharp and they get a little bit too close for comfort. Still, if anyone tells this story after they get back, he absolutely does not shriek when one jumps on him and steals his water bottle.

“It did say to keep your personal belongings hidden because they steal everything,” Willie says, laughing while Martin’s bent over gasping for air.

Only Zayn shows some concern, checking Niall’s arm for any marks (there are none, thankfully) and quietly saying, “I have plenty of water left, you can have some of mine.”

This also definitely doesn’t leave Niall’s heart beating in his throat.

They fly to the Philippines next, where the rainy season is long over and it’s really warm, even though it’s still over a month until the warmest month, May, according to an info screen at the airport in Manila. Their plan is to go island hopping, spending as much time as they want in one place before they get bored, so booking ahead is pretty difficult.

The only time limit they have is the date they have to be in Bangkok to meet up with Eoghan McDermott, who’s asked to join them there for a week before their flights home from there. Everything else they manage to fit into that time is completely up to them and so far relatively unplanned. Basil asked to see Angkor Wat and Zayn wants to go to Vietnam, but that’s as far as planning has gone.

They’re in Cebu first, a province that seems much more European than Manila or anything in Bali, caused by the heavy influence Spanish colonists had. They avoid the big city on the main island, but there are 167 surrounding islands to discover. They only visit three of them, but the small villages, harbours, beaches, waterfalls and mountains they see already show what a versatile country the Philippines is.

On Boracay, they stay in a pretty shitty hostel because everything else seems to be booked, and it’s a completely new experience for Niall. All five of them share a room with three bunk beds. Thankfully there’s no one else in there, but it’s still strange sleeping in the same room as so many other people. Niall is still grateful he gets to do it - for once, he feels like a regular guy in his 20s, travelling with his friends and nothing but his red backpack.

They spend their time on Boracay mostly at the beach, swimming, snorkeling, scuba diving and even trying out kitesurfing. Zayn never goes into the water further than his knees, which makes Niall worry he might get bored, especially when they discover the alternative to the beach on Boracay is a big golf course.

“Nah, ‘s fine,” Zayn assures him when Niall sits down in the hot sand next to him and asks him about it one day. “Got a lot to think about, don’t I? No time to get bored, and it’s better to think here than at home.”

“Gigi?” Niall asks carefully.

Zayn half shrugs, half shakes his head. “Not much,” he says. “Think I’m getting over her, actually.”

“That’s good,” Niall says. “Started all this to mend your heart, didn’t we? What then? Your tour?”

Zayn shrugs again, this time all the way. “Dunno. All of it, I reckon. Y’know, what am I even doing if I can’t go on tour?”

“What do you mean?” Niall asks.

“Like, if I don’t tour, who’s gonna want to listen to my music? Who’s gonna want to be my fan?”

Niall is quiet for a second, gathering his thoughts. This feels like a minefield of sorts, and Zayn sounds desperate enough for Niall to know he needs to take this seriously. “Okay, first of all, you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe your fans a tour or a very public life or a regular tweet, nothing. And secondly, you don’t need all that stuff anyway! Last time I checked, your album was doing really well all on its own without the whole promo or a tour. That’s really impressive, Zayn! You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I want to give fans the opportunity to see me,” Zayn says quietly. “I just… can’t. I had to cancel shows already due to anxiety and I wouldn’t do that if I was just a little nervous.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“I was shaking and throwing up in the bathroom,” Zayn admits, then throws a wry grin Niall’s way. “Reminded me of you before TV performances.”

Niall grins back even though that’s not a thing he particularly likes being reminded of. “Look,” he says. “There’s things you can do against anxiety, if you want to. I’m seeing a therapist, occasionally, actually.”

“You are?” Zayn sounds surprised.

“I know that’s surprising after all the shit I told you in Budapest. Reckon I still have some things to work through myself.”

Zayn snorts quietly. “Well, they do say success messes you up. Guess it’s only fair it’s happened to us a little as well. Members of the most successful boyband of all time and we’ve got self-confidence issues. Figures.”

Niall laughs. “Don’t say it like that. We sound really ungrateful.”

“I’m not,” Zayn says, “and I know for sure you aren’t either. Maybe it’s the mixture of… dunno, almost worship from our fans but zero recognition from critics.”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Niall sighs. “Bet none of them ever listened to anything past our singles. But yeah, lots of pressure, a lot to live up to. You want the fans to love it but also to finally be recognised as a serious musician, yeah? That’s what we talked about in Seville, think it was.”

“Mhm,” Zayn hums. “I just want to make music that’s all me, I want to be myself in every way, you know? And yes, I want people to like that, too.”

“You’ve done that with your music, already,” Niall says. “I’m really proud of you, by the way.”

Zayn looks down, embarrassed, but Niall can still see his smile. “Thanks, Nialler.”

“Right,” Niall says, clapping a hand on Zayn’s shoulder and pushing himself into a standing position. “I’m going to cool down in the sea, you coming?”

He doesn’t really expect a yes, but Zayn grabs the hand he’s holding out and hauls himself up. “You know the rules, no making me go in any further than I’m comfortable with.”

“Of course not,” Niall says, delighted. “Come on!”

Zayn won’t go in any further than his hips even though the water is calm and shallow, but he does let Niall splash him a bit (and splashes back way more), so Niall doesn’t leave his side. He knows that going in further than to his knees is a real accomplishment for Zayn, and it’s a sign for how safe he feels with Niall, so there’s no way he’s gonna risk that trust.

The real surprise comes the next morning, when Zayn gets up early enough to go to the golf course with them.

“What are you doing here?” Niall blurts out when Zayn shows up at their table in the breakfast area of the hostel.

Zayn shrugs and slides onto the bench next to him, setting down his cup of coffee. “Heard you all getting up and figured I’d come with. There has to be something about golf if you all love it this much.”

Niall nudges Zayn’s shoulder with his and smiles at him. “Glad you’re coming with.”

~

“This is boring,” Zayn whines from where’s he’s sat in the golf caddy. “I really don’t understand why you spend so much time hitting a little ball and driving after it.”

Niall laughs and slides onto the seat next to him. “Well maybe if you started showing a little more enthusiasm when it’s your turn it’d be more fun for you, too.”

“But it’s embarrassing! Yours goes, like, really far and I miss mine most of the time when I try to hit it.”

“How is that embarrassing? You just need practice, Z. If you want, I can help you work on your stance and swing and stuff.”

Bad idea, Niall realises only a few minutes later, when he figures out that he needs to show Zayn all the basics and the best way to do that is to stand behind him and guide his movements. Which means getting a lot closer than he’s done in ages, and closer than he’s really comfortable with right now. Because honestly, as soon as he’s done it once, he kind of doesn’t want to stop touching Zayn.

He grabs Zayn’s hips to move them in the right direction, his shoulders and waist when he doesn’t twist his torso enough, his hands to show him how to hold the golf club. And Zayn keeps asking, too, keeps saying, “Wait, can you show me again?”

It goes far enough that Willie pulls him aside eventually, whispering, “Jesus, Niall, cool it a little. What’s going on? You two can’t keep your hands off each other for a second.”

“I don’t know,” Niall whines, feeling himself flush. “He keeps asking for my help and I just… can’t help it.”

“Well, for the record, if he wasn’t enoying it he’d stop asking,” Willie says. “I just think you should maybe… talk about things, yeah?”

“I know,” Niall sighs. “It’s just I’ve fancied him for so long, yeah? And it kind of feels like now might finally be the time where it’s right for both of us, you know? We don’t work together anymore, neither of us are seeing anyone… dunno, maybe until now it was just never the right time.”

“Maybe you should tell him that. See if he feels the same.”

“Maybe I should,” Niall says, and then Zayn calls for him and with an apologetic grin Willie’s way, he jogs over.

~

Niall doesn’t say anything while they’re in Boracay, or while they’re visiting the Chocolate Hills, or Tubbataha Reef. He hasn’t said anything by the time they leave the Philippines for Vietnam, and nothing’s really changed. On a regular day, they don’t touch more than Niall touches his other friends, but Niall has to admit that he often sits closer to Zayn than he probably should in this heat. It doesn’t help that Zayn never once moves away.

Instead of talking, Niall writes a whole song, or at least a page full of very lyric-like notes asking an unnamed lover to wait for him even though time has never been on their side. He doesn’t have a guitar and only a shitty piano app, but it’s already better than anything he’s written in London.

Hanoi is beautiful and full to the brim with history, half traditionally Vietnamese and half with a French flair, which explains the nickname it’s been given – “Paris of the East.” It’s chaotic and loud, absolutely packed with tourists and locals, but after the relatively quiet trip they’ve had so far, it doesn’t feel like too much. They spend a couple days there exploring and eating lots of incredible food before heading west to Ha Long, the starting point for their boat trip through Ha Long Bay.

When they get there, Zayn, who’d been a little bit hesitant about the whole boat thing, falls in love immediately – thanks to the name, mostly.

“Did you know the name Ha Long means ‘descending dragon’?” he asks them excitedly, reading from an info pamphlet at their hotel reception. “According to local legend, when Vietnam had just started to develop into a country, they had to fight against invaders. To assist the Vietnamese in defending their country, the gods sent a family of dragons as protectors. This family of dragons began spitting out jewels and jade. These jewels turned into the islands and islets dotting the bay, linking together to form a great wall against the invaders. Through magic, numerous rock mountains abruptly appeared on the sea, ahead of invaders' ships; the forward ships struck the rocks and each other. After winning the battle, the dragons were interested in peaceful sightseeing of the Earth, and then decided to live in this bay.”

“I love that,” Martin says, “I love dragons.”

“Me too!” Zayn exclaims and then they’re in their own little world, discussing god knows what, but Niall’s not complaining because he’s enjoyed watching Zayn get along with his cousins and friends so much it’s embarrassing.

They only spend one day in Ha Long because the real highlight is the bay and its thousands of islands. Most of them are uninhabited or just big rocks, but it already looks pretty fucking cool from the city. They’ve booked a round trip on one of the traditional sailing ships that are commonly used for that around here and are called Junk, which Niall obviously finds hilarious. When they board early in the morning, it’s really cool though, made from wood with two big red sails and a couple of small rooms below deck. The crew sleep in one, there’s a kitchen and two more sleeping quarters for the guests - they get one and the other one is occupied by a couple of Chinese tourists.

Sitting on deck taking in the breathtaking nature is possibly the best thing yet on this holiday full of best things, and even Zayn loves it. The ship sails across the water very calmly, so no one gets seasick. The rocks and islands are made from limestone and most of them are absolutely overgrown with tropical looking vegetation. This in combination with the incredibly blue water is a sight to behold.

Around noon, they go kayaking near a small island and in the afternoon, visiting a cave is scheduled. Niall knows he’s going to sit this one out as soon as they dock and he sees the entrance to the cave. It already looks narrow from here and he can imagine about a million things he’d rather do than go into a dark, narrow cave.

“Do you want me to stay outside with you?” Zayn asks Niall when he announces his decision.

“Nah, it’s fine, go with them,” Niall says. “I’ll be fine sitting on this beach on my own for a while.”

He ends up finding a shady spot where the beach ends and turns into what looks like a tropical forest growing right by the beach and all the way up the limestone rock. Niall powers up his phone for the first time in days - he only really turns it on to text his mum or dad he’s still alive or to take pictures, but the others do that too so he can just ask them for theirs after they get back home. He’s been thinking about One Direction and his relationships with the other boys a lot over the past couple of weeks, though, and it’s been too long since he spoke to Louis, who he’s technically closest to. Or used to, at least. Until Zayn came back into his life.

He takes a picture of the ship anchored on the shore and sends it to Louis, captioned, this thing is called Junk haha !

Louis texts back within seconds, hahahahahaha and an eggplant emoji, then quickly, a second text: where you at, lad?

Vietnam !, Niall says, traveling round Asia for a bit

Enjoying life, i see! You alright then?

Niall can practically see Louis’ concerned frown while typing out his text, always worrying about Niall. Yeh, he texts back, grand ! How’s little Freddie? And El? He hesitates a little before asking about her but then figures it’ll be alright. He’s seen them together, after all; he’s sure they’ll get it right this time around.

Fred is big, lad! He’s talking and everything, should come by when you’re back, when is that?

El says hi and to send her love

She’ll want to go on a holiday too if u keep sending pics

Just to be a shit, Niall sends a few of the other shots he has on his phone.

Aw yes Ive missed the little man ! Couple weeks, dunno yet

Give her my love ! But she won’t want to stay in the same hostels we did hahah

Time flies while Niall explains his holiday to Louis and chats with him via text, all without mentioning Zayn once. It’s not a conscious decision, and he only really notices it when the others exit from the cave and he hears Zayn’s laugh. He’s glad his subconscious made the decision for him, though - this whole situation is something he’d have trouble explaining to Louis, at least over text.

The rest of their boat trip includes a stop at the biggest inhabited city and one at a floating village, where the couple of houses and the footpaths connecting them are literally built on floats. They also go on a hike and get some rest on a really picturesque beach. Sleeping on the ship feels a little weird but no one gets seasick, so they’re all quite happy with the experience when they get back to Ha Long harbour.

They fly to Cambodia next, visiting the capital Phnom Penh, the big city Siem Reap and from there, the famous temple Angkor Wat.

“Hey, so,” Zayn says when they’re sat next to each other on the plane to Thailand after a couple days in Cambodia, “I know this is the last stop we’ve got planned and everyone’s already booked their flights home. But, I was thinking… you know, it’s been going so well this trip and we haven’t really been recognised so… do you wanna do South America, too? I feel like we missed out on quite a bit when we last went.”

A part of Niall wants to say yes immediately. The other part is trying insistently to tell him he needs space, time away from Zayn to deal with this crush or whatever it is. But then there’s also the growing hope that said crush isn’t exactly one-sided, so the reasonable part of Niall doesn’t stand a chance.

“That’d be cool, I reckon,” he says. “Long flight, though.”

“Well maybe we could go home for a couple days in between,” Zayn suggests. “Pack some other stuff, dunno.”

“Oh, yeah. What’s the weather like there, right now? Is it winter yet?”

“Depends on where you go, doesn’t it? Like, Rio de Janeiro doesn’t really have a winter like we know it, I don’t think. It’s probably, like, autumn right now and definitely colder than here.”

“Well,” Niall says, lifting his sweaty t-shirt off his chest, “can’t say I’m not somewhat looking forward to that.”

They land in Bangkok and meet up at their hotel with Eoghan, who came straight from Ireland and landed a couple of hours before them. He’s picked the hotel they’ve booked and it’s fancier than a lot of the ones they’ve stayed in on this trip but still lowkey enough. It does, however, have a pool on the roof, which is pretty cool.

“All I want,” Eoghan says, “is some good food, a nice drink and maybe a swim in the pool later. That flight was too long.”

“None of you can complain,” Niall says, “I’m the only one who flew from London to Australia. Might not’ve taken me much longer than the other from London to Bali, but it did take me longer. So I reserve all complaining rights.”

“Aw, little Nialler,” Eoghan says, “you like a good whine anyway, don’t you?”

Zayn laughs. “That he does, yeah.”

“Hey,” Niall complains, frowning. “Don’t gang up on me.”

“Nah,” Eoghan pulls him in despite Niall’s struggling, smacking a kiss to his temple. “We love your whining, don’t we, Zayn?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, and the way he’s looking at Niall, who’s still caught in Eoghan’s embrace, makes Niall flush. Yeah.

Bangkok is so hot that Niall takes off his t-shirt the next day around noon when they’re sitting in a tuk-tuk while the sun is burning down on him.

“Careful with that pale Irish skin,” Willie jokes, pulling his cap even more into his face.

“Have you got sunscreen on?” Zayn asks, frowning at Niall in concern which is really fucking cute, actually. “Willie’s right.”

“I do,” Niall says. “And I’ll put my shirt back on once we stop, promise.”

Basil takes a picture of him sitting back and Niall thinks, well, if he’ll ever share this trip with anyone, this could be a moment he’ll want to remember.

Until, that is, Eoghan says, “So, and I ask this as a friend and not a radio personality, clearly the two of you have made up,” gesturing between Zayn and Niall. “What about the others? Harry, Liam?”

When Niall doesn’t say anything, Zayn glances at him and speaks first. “Well, I made up with Louis and with Niall, obviously. Never really fought with the others, like, just haven’t spoken to them in a while.”

“Ah, right,” Eoghan says, glancing at Niall carefully. “That makes sense. Look, Niall, forget I asked-”

“Nah, don’t, I’m not gonna start cryin’ or some shit,” Niall huffs. “Look, I didn’t want this hiatus and I was angry, yeah. You all know that. But, like… these past couple weeks, or months, have kind of changed my perspective, I guess. I realised I may have been a little petty and that I can’t hold this grudge forever. That maybe I was wrong to want to keep going no matter what. And I went to the studio and wrote songs I could never give to anyone else.”

“You did?” Martin asks, surprised.

“You didn’t tell me that, either,” Willie says. “Just that you were in the studio. So ‘ve you finally made the decision to make music on your own?”

“I’m considering it,” Niall says. “Which is more than I’ve done in the last year and a half.”

“Proud of you,” Zayn says quietly, squeezing his shoulder. Niall smiles at him and then Willie kicks his foot lightly, grinning at him.

“Yeah, we all are,” he says.

“I haven’t even decided anything yet,” Niall says, appeasing them. “Don’t get ahead of yourselves.”

“Just saying,” Martin smiles. “You’d do great, I’m sure.”

“Oh, shut up,” Niall mumbles, embarrassed.

“Mate, we’ve all heard you sing when it’s just you and your guitar,” Eoghan says. “Nothing to be embarrassed about at all.”

Sometimes Niall thinks about how strange it is that, after five years in the biggest boyband in the world, he still doesn’t know how to take a compliment. He just ducks his head and hopes his blush isn’t too noticeable.

After the hectic rush of Bangkok, they head to Phuket and from there take a speedboat over to Ko Phi Phi. This one is a much less calm ride than the one they took in Vietnam, and Zayn looks a little pale as he clutches the railing of the boat, his face tilted towards the wind.

Niall steps close to him, nudges his shoulder gently with his own. “You alright?”

Zayn shrugs a little but leans into him when Niall tries to move his shoulder away. “If I, like, focus on the wind, I’m okay,” he says. “Just trying not to focus too much on the water. Our boat is a little too small in comparison to the sea for my taste.”

“It’s much faster and newer than those ferries we saw,” Niall says. “It’ll be over in no time. Plus, I wouldn’t let you drown even if we sank. Not that that’s gonna happen.”

Zayn half smiles, as if he’s still feeling too ill to give it his all. “No Titanic, then?”

“Nah,” Niall says, resisting the urge to put his head on Zayn’s shoulder. He used to be able to do that easily, but he’s Zayn’s size now, or even a little taller, and it would probably be a bit strange. “And if so, I’d let you climb on the door.” A second after he’s done it, Niall wants to launch himself over the railing and into the sea, but the realisation only comes after he’s leaned in and kissed Zayn’s cheek.

This is also something they used to have no problem with, back when they were younger, but it’s been years and Niall feels his face flush deep red. He pretends there’s something incredibly fascinating somewhere on the horizon, turning his body and, most importantly, his face, away from Zayn. Zayn, though, apparently intent on getting Niall’s hopes up to an astronomical level, follows his movement so their shoulders still touch. It’s not much, and not a particularly intimate touch, but it leaves Niall’s whole body thrumming with… something.

They dock on the biggest of the Phi Phi islands, Ko Phi Phi Don, and have to pay a fee right there at the pier that’s supposed to help keep the islands clean, which they happily do. There are no cars on the island, only push carts to carry luggage for tourists. Since they’re traveling backpacker style, though, they wave off the offers and head towards the hotels they can see from the pier.

It takes quite a while to find a hotel that has any vacancies left - the hostels are booked solid, apparently - and when they find one, it turns out that the maximum they can offer are three double rooms for the six of them.

“That’s fine, right?” Martin says. “I mean, it’s definitely a step up from a six-person dorm. I don’t mind sharing with any of you, actually.”

In the end, it goes like this: Willie and Martin share one room, Basil and Eoghan another, which leaves Zayn and Niall with the third one. Completely without Niall’s doing, because he figured if he’d end up sharing with Zayn, then that’s what’s supposed to happen. Maybe Harry’s talk about fate and stuff has rubbed off on him a little bit.

They used to share beds all the time in One Direction, so it’s not exactly unfamiliar. It’s just that now, Niall takes more care to lock the bathroom door behind him and sleeps closer to the edge of the bed than usually. They don’t spend much time in their room, so as long as Niall avoids looking at Zayn too much, sharing is pretty doable.

They spend their days on Phi Phi Don island on the beach, taking long walks along the limestone cliffs trying to avoid the day tourists coming over by ferry and discovering all sorts of beautiful nature. Niall never expected to be this fascinated by vegetation or a certain bug, but this trip has really opened his eyes to the beauty of nature. Especially when it’s nature as stunning as this.

They book an overnight trip to the second biggest of the Phi Phi islands, Ko Phi Phi Le, for their second to last night in Thailand. It’s the only way to get to spend a night over there, and to avoid the masses of day trippers, so it’s a no-brainer.

Zayn’s not too thrilled at the prospect of another boat trip before their trip home, which necessarily includes one as well, but it turns out he needn’t have worried as it’s very similar to the sailing ship experience in Vietnam. They even stop for some snorkeling and kayaking on the way, and by now Niall thinks that he’s gonna get so used to this he’ll actually miss it after they leave.

There are two couples with them on the boat, one from Russia and one from Malaysia, and no one shows any signs of recognition, so everyone is completely relaxed.

Shortly before they arrive on Ko Phi Phi Le, one of their guides explains that the island consists of little more than a couple of limestone hills surrounding two bays. It’s low tide, apparently, which means they’re going to have to anchor in one bay, Loh Samah, because the water is deeper than in the other one, and then walk through the jungle and across some rocks to get to Maya Bay. The Russian lady seems a little shocked by this, but their guide assures them that it’s completely safe. The only thing they’re going to need is insect repellent, but they were told to bring that before the trip, so everyone carries some.

As it turns out, it really is only a short walk and the rocks they have to walk across are almost even ground, unless one of the tree’s roots have grown over the footpath - because it really is a jungle that’s growing on the rocks. The view they get when they emerge from the trees is beautiful, white sand and blue ocean all surrounded by the impressive and wildly overgrown limestone rocks, but also pretty crowded. All the boats anchored in Loh Samah have brought a huge amount of tourists into the picturesque bay, sunbathing, swimming, playing and taking pictures.

“Okay,” their guide, Sunan, says. “You have a couple of hours to yourself, we gather again here for a big barbecue at 8pm, after the last day ferry leaves. Be safe and don’t go into the jungle on your own. See you later!”

They’ve had a safety briefing this morning before the start of the tour, so no one even considers venturing into the jungle. Instead, they join the other tourists on the beach because the view is way too good to not take pictures and the water looks so inviting that even Zayn wades in as long as someone stays with him.

They barbecue on the beach for dinner and watch the sun set. There are a couple of other overnight groups staying at the beach, but there’s no mingling, which Niall doesn’t mind at all. The fewer people he meets, the less he has to worry about being recognised. The after-dinner program is drinks and music, but before that, they have the possibility to go snorkeling again, in the dark, because the plankton in Maya Bay is fluorescent, which is only visible at night.

“You are lucky it isn’t the full moon,” Sunan says. “It’s too bright to see anything during those nights.”

When Zayn says he doesn’t want to snorkel, one of the crew tries to show him the fluorescent plankton in a bucket, so Niall doesn’t feel too bad about leaving him at the beach on his own. Instead, he wriggles around underwater like the guides told them and can’t get enough of the tiny specks of light moving around him. It’s fucking beautiful and he wishes he could capture it somehow. He commits it to his memory as well as possible instead.

Even though the sun has been down for a couple of hours by the time they’re back on land, it’s still so warm out Niall doesn’t feel cold, even as wet as he is. To be safe, they all dry off quickly anyway and put on shirts and dry shorts before getting a drink. The couples stay among themselves, so it’s not much of a party, but the six of them still have a really good time. The rum drinks they’re being served possibly contribute to that, but Niall feels perfectly content right here.

Their bed rolls have been spread out for them on the beach without a tent to cover them, because the weather forecast is good enough to sleep under the stars. The separate groups are kept apart, but their six beds are pretty close to each other.

It gives them the opportunity to stargaze a little from bed - with zero light pollution, the night is possibly the best thing Niall’s ever seen - and chat, but Niall can tell everyone’s starting to fall asleep.

With the rum still buzzing through his veins and the bright stars overhead, Niall can’t seem to fall asleep, though. He feels restless, so eventually he carefully peels himself out of his sleeping bag and walks across the still warm sand, down towards the water. He sits down there and looks at the waves, the stars, the narrow slice of moon that’s visible - and thinks.

It’s been almost a year and a half since 1D went on their hiatus, and Niall is under no illusion that it’s gonna end soon. That thought doesn’t make him feel as bitter as it used to, and Niall sighs. He’s not the kind to hold grudges, really, but being angry has become almost something of a protection. It’s a lot easier than making frightening decisions about his future. But now, with so much distance from home and the whole thing, Niall’s begun to think that he doesn’t have to be this scared. He’s got a couple of songs that are so him that it doesn’t feel right to give them away. It’s not an album’s worth of songs, not yet at least, but he thinks that after this trip, he’ll be able to turn all the new concepts in his notebook into songs, and if they’re as good as the ones he’s written with Jamie in London, he might just have an album.

Making a decision, he powers up his phone and texts Marco from his management, if i wanted to release some music . who do you think would sign me ? do i have any chance with capitol ?

He turns his phone off again right after, still a little scared of the answer. He’s not sure why he came right out with Capitol there, but if he could pick any label to sign with, it’d be them. So many of his heroes were or are signed there.

“Can’t sleep?” Zayn asks, suddenly right next to him and startling Niall so much he may gasp in a way that possibly sounds a little like a scream. Zayn laughs. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Niall says as Zayn settles down next to him. “It’s that rum, mate.”

“Strong stuff,” Zayn grins. He looks away from Niall and tilts his head back to look up at the sky. “You still so interested in space?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, “more, probably. I still can’t believe I’m friends with an astronaut, he’s told me so much new cool stuff, can’t get enough of it.”

“So from what I understand, the sky looks completely different down here in the southern hemisphere, doesn’t it? Can you still tell what’s what?”

“Of course! Did some practicing every time we’ve been around, and it’s especially easy because you can see everything out here,” Niall says, and he sounds a little bit besotted to his own ears.

Zayn seems genuinely interested though, so he shows him Alpha centauri, and the upside down constellations he can spot, Omega Centauri and even the Magellanic Clouds when he spots them.

“You’re so good at this,” Zayn says, quietly, and when Niall turns his head, Zayn’s very close, looking at him with his damn Disney prince eyes.

“Nah,” Niall says, blushing.

“Yeah,” Zayn whispers, and then he’s reaching out, and his hand is in Niall’s hair, tugging softly.

Oh my god, oh my god, Niall thinks, feeling dizzy drunk again all of a sudden.

“I like your hair like this,” Zayn says. “Natural. Soft.”

Niall kisses him.

Just tips forward, crosses the inches between them, and that’s his lips on Zayn’s. He pulls back again almost immediately, but Zayn slides his hand deeper in his hair and keeps him close, starts kissing back.

Niall sighs and shifts his body so the angle is more comfortable, presses one hand to the back of Zayn’s neck and the other to his chest. Zayn’s free hand finds its way to his waist and rests there, warm, right against his skin.

It’s unhurried, comfortable, and Niall isn’t sure whether he’s more drunk off the Thai rum or Zayn’s lips. They kiss for ages, it feels like, until Zayn has to stifle a yawn, pulling back and laughing a little.

“Maybe now we can sleep, too,” he says sheepishly.

Niall, who feels like he’s already dreaming, says, “Yeah, probably best to get some rest.”

He desperately wants to kiss Zayn again, wants to trace the lines of his face with soft fingers, wants to memorise the way Zayn’s body melted against his, but Zayn pushes himself up off the sand and reaches out to help Niall up as well, so he doesn’t know how to voice this.

They walk back to their sleeping friends and Zayn climbs into his sleeping bag, waits for Niall to settle down as well before whispering, “Good night, Niall.”

“Sleep well,” Niall whispers back, and watches as Zayn closes his eyes and drops off to sleep almost immediately.

He’s so beautiful it aches a little bit, and the space between them aches even more. So Niall just looks at him a little while longer until he starts to feel creepy and closes his eyes. He presses a hand to his lips that are still tingling and tries to will himself to sleep. It still takes him a long time to fall asleep.

Niall wakes up sweating in his sleeping bag and with the blinding sun in his eyes. By the time he’s fully regained consciousness, Eoghan has noticed he’s awake and calls him over for a pre-breakfast swim. It leaves Niall no time to ponder over what happened last night, and a quick glance over to Zayn’s sleeping bag reveals that he’s not there anymore anyway. Though highly unusual, Niall figures he must’ve been woken up by the sun as well.

He feels much more awake and refreshed after the morning swim and the shower in a little hut at the top of the beach, so much so that he actually manages to smile at Zayn like nothing has changed when he finds him at the breakfast buffet the guides have set up.

“Morning,” he says, and “Morning,” echoes back from Zayn, Martin, Willie and Basil.

“Good swim?” Martin asks.

“Great, thanks,” Niall says. “Could get used to jumping in there before breakfast to be honest.”

“Well, if you built a pool in the garden…” Willie says.

“I’m not getting a pool in bloody England, Willie,” Niall says. “Maybe in LA.”

“Wait,” Zayn says, “You bought a house in LA?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, “did in December. It’s in my favourite area and they’d just lowered the price. I’m actually working on some plans for a renovation whenever I’m not travelling.”

“You’re doing it yourself?” Eoghan, who’s joined them by now, asks incredulously.

“Well, not the actual renovating, obviously. I’ll hire someone for that. But I want to be involved in the planning; it’s gonna be my home, after all. What are you this surprised for? You did it yourself, too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eoghan says. “But I spent a big part of my savings on the house itself, so at least part of why I made that decision was to save money, which I don’t think you have to.”

“Well,” Niall laughs, “technically I’m almost unemployed right now, except for my golf managing job, but it’s not like we make that much there, yet. And I’d really rather not waste all the money I made in 1D and end up broke. But yeah, fair enough, I could’ve afforded hiring someone to do it all for me.”

“I didn’t mean that in a condescending way or anything,” Eoghan says. “I actually think it’s grand you’re involved in that kind of stuff. Just goes to show you’re still just a regular guy.”

“A man of the people,” Niall says, grinning. “Thanks, Eoghany.”

On the way back, their boat takes the other way around Ko Phi Phi Don to show them the other side of the island. They make a quick stop at Monkey Beach, where tourists can feed and take pictures of the monkeys living there, but the Monkey Forest in Bali was already enough for Niall, if he’s honest, so he stays back a little bit. Scratching, biting, and stealing monkeys aren’t his favourite animals, that’s for sure.

They’re back at their hotel in time for a late lunch and decide to just spend the rest of the day at the beach, in need of some more sleep. Turns out that sleeping on the beach doesn’t provide you with a good night’s sleep.

After Niall wakes up from a long nap, he turns his phone back on a little nervously. The number of unread messages has risen again, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it. He’ll reply on the plane tomorrow or once he’s home. People will just have to understand. The only message he really cares about right now sits right there at the top of his inbox - a reply from Marco. The little (1) would be more intimidating if he didn’t know Marco is a paragraph kind of texter, unlike Louis for example who’d rather send a million separate texts. It’s still nerve wracking enough.

I don’t want to give you a full on yes since we have to be realistic, but I think you have a good chance if you finish a couple of songs to present to them, almost like a portfolio. If it’s as good or better than what you wrote last year and gave away, I’d be hopeful. And can I just say, I’m delighted you sent me this message! Been waiting for around a year now and can’t wait to get started! You just focus on the music and I’ll take care of everything else, we’ll get you an appointment with Capitol once you’re ready and then we can really get going! Just give me a shout once you’re back so we can pick some songs and figure out the details. Have a good rest of your trip mate x

Niall buries his face in the crook of his elbow for a moment, trying to quell the bubbling excitement in his chest. It’s not a yes, but it’s very far from the no he was almost expecting, or making himself expect, and suddenly he’s really excited to get back in the studio and try again, outfitted with his notebook full of new notes, ideas and concepts.

Can you see if John or Julian are around anytime soon ? Or ill meet them in la when i’m there . Or someone else maybe too, what about Ruth-Anne ? mayb ill give her a shout myself, thanks Marco !

Oh and I’m back in Ldn in two days ! See u then ?

He texts his friend Ruth-Anne Cunningham next, an Irish singer-songwriter who he knows is brilliant at what she does, and asks her if she wants to come into the studio with him sometime in the next few days if she’s available. She texts back very quickly, saying, Oh sorry babe, I’m in LA for a couple weeks! You around there anytime soon? Would love to write with you!!

So Niall starts thinking about his plans, wonders if maybe it’d make sense to fly to LA at least for a couple of days and head to South America from there. He’ll have to talk to Zayn, but he’ll do that once they get to planning. Niall still wants to go, definitely, but they haven’t really talked about it lately. For now, he messages Ruth-Anne that he’ll keep her posted on his plans, then turns his phone off again. Time to enjoy the last day in this paradise.

For their last dinner before their flight home the next day, they find the fanciest restaurant in the area. As it turns out, though, this also means that they’re severely underdressed and would have to be as quiet and respectable during dinner as the people they can see through the big windows. So they turn back around at the door and instead go to a bar that serves food as well, where they can be as raucous as they want and enjoy their last night on holiday.

It’s a great night, a good end to their trip, and Niall gets back to his and Zayn’s hotel room feeling very happy.

He hums while showering and brushing his teeth, taking out his phone to record a voice note of the melody. He’s not sure what it’s gonna turn into, yet, it doesn’t really match any of the sad lyrics he’s got scribbled in his notebooks, but he likes it. Sounds kind of Eagles-esque in his head.

Then he’s in bed, though, and Zayn’s only a foot away, nothing but their thin sheets separating them. They’ve said goodnight, but Niall suddenly can’t think of anything but their kiss last night.

Through half-lidded eyes, Niall watches Zayn, being as inconspicuous as possible, wondering if he’s thinking about the same thing, or if he’s thought about it at all. God, what if he’s completely alone in this?

“You’re staring at me,” Zayn says suddenly. His eyes are still closed, but Niall squeezes his own shut on reflex anyway.

“Am not!” he protests.

There’s some rustling and the bed shifts, and then Niall is absolutely sure he can feel Zayn’s breath on his cheek. Carefully, he opens one eye and yeah. Zayn’s right there.

“Yes you were,” he says, and Niall doesn’t know who moves first but before he knows it, he’s on his back, Zayn hovering above him, and life is fantastic.

Zayn’s lips are softer than they were last night, maybe because he’s got all his products here at the hotel, but they’re also a lot more insistent. While yesterday, both of them were sleepy and a little drunk, they’re neither of those things tonight, at least not anymore.

Zayn moves his mouth down to Niall’s neck and Niall arches his back a little bit, trying to give him better access. A gasp escapes his lips when Zayn nips on his throat and he dizzily thinks that this trip is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He takes charge when he feels like Zayn’s neglected his lips for long enough and flips them around, licking across the seam of Zayn’s lips and grinning against them when it makes Zayn moan and open up. He wants to find out everything that makes Zayn moan, and he wants to hear it more.

They snog for what must be hours, sometimes lazily before it grows more passionate again, but it’s never less intense. If it were up to Niall, this could go on forever, but his body betrays him when their kisses turn sleepy and they eventually drop off to sleep.

Niall wakes up with with his face pressed to Zayn’s neck and one of Zayn’s legs thrown over his own. He doesn’t want to move, it’s actually the last thing he feels like doing, but the boiling heat isn’t giving him much of a choice. He kind of wants to wait for Zayn to wake up to this, too, but he’s sweaty as fuck and it makes him very uncomfortable. He can’t stand being sweaty, would rather take nine showers a day if necessary, and he really doesn’t want Zayn to see him like that. Maybe if he’s quiet enough, he can take a shower and then sneak back into bed with him. So he carefully untangles himself and tiptoes to the bathroom, turning the shower on cold and very intensely trying not to think of Zayn or his hands or his lips. He’s had very infrequent opportunities to wank on this trip, too many shared rooms or bathrooms, but all this stuff going on with Zayn – the flirting, the touches, and lately, the kissing – haven’t made it easy. Still, he doesn’t feel like it’s good etiquette to get yourself off thinking about your mate you’ve happened to have kissed a couple of times while he’s asleep on the other side of the door.

While he’s towelling dry and pulling on his last clean pair of boxers - good timing, that’s what this is - he tries to hear what’s going on in their hotel room, wanting to figure out whether Zayn’s still asleep and he can maybe cuddle up next to him. Maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll even get some morning kisses.

At that thought, Niall decides to brush his teeth as well before he heads back out, but while he’s doing that, he can clearly hear movement from the other side of the door. Okay, Zayn’s awake, so that was probably it for the cuddling. He’s just trying to figure out how to bring up the topic of kissing that’ll hopefully lead to some more of that, when he hears Zayn talk to someone and then Martin’s voice replying.

Niall groans quietly and rinses off his toothbrush. There goes his chance.

When he exits from the bathroom in just his boxers, he thinks he catches Zayn doing a double take, but he can’t dwell on that because Martin’s grinning at him.

“Great, you’re up! Was just telling Zayn about our plan to go down to the beach one last time right after breakfast, so put on those swimsuits!”

Unfortunately, Martin doesn’t seem to want to leave even as Zayn and Niall take turns getting ready in the bathroom, so they don’t get a minute alone until they’re back in their room with minimal time to pack and check out before they have to catch their ferry back to Phuket. They don’t talk, both rushing to fit all their stuff into their backpacks, but by the door, Niall reaches out and grabs Zayn’s arm.

“Hey,” he says when Zayn turns around to look at him. “I’ve got some stuff to do when we get back home, but the trip to South America is still on, right? Soon?”

Zayn smiles, soft but big enough for the crinkles around his eyes that Niall likes so much to appear. “Yeah, ‘course. Was gonna look up flights and stuff at home. You’re not getting rid of me just yet.”

“Good,” Niall says, and he’s still holding Zayn’s arm. Zayn takes a step closer and for a moment, Niall thinks he’s gonna kiss him, but then Basil knocks on their door and shouts at them to hurry up. It almost feels like back in the day.

Travelling home takes way too long and Niall’s never given a seat next to Zayn so they don’t get a chance to talk. By the time they land in Heathrow, everyone is so tired they only hug goodbye and head to their respective homes.

For two weeks, Niall is busy rushing from the studio to Marco’s office and back, meeting different people to write with, recording demos, mixing old and new ideas, turning half-finished songs from a year ago into real ones. He has a portfolio he’s quite proud of, hoping that it’ll be enough to impress a major music label and make them trust him to write a whole album. It’s six songs: the three he wrote with John before his Asia trip and three more new ones he’s happy enough with to share; the most poetic song he’s ever written called Paper Houses; and one he and some mates wrote in the most fun writing session ever that he’s called On My Own. The third one is his favourite song he’s ever written, and it didn’t even happen in the studio. He writes it on one of the few nights off he has, alone with his guitar in front of the telly, watching a football game and lazily strumming his guitar - until it’s suddenly there, the chord progression he’s been looking for for over a year. He’s had the concept and rough lyrics for Flicker for almost as long as This Town, but he’s never been able to turn it into an actual song he’s happy with. After that first fingerpicky beginning, the song is pretty much done within 20 minutes, with just a little bit of help from John and Julian over FaceTime. They love it, and Niall, who feels like he’s just bared his heart and soul to them, is proud. It’s just in time as well, since Marco’s managed to get him a meeting with some people from Capitol. They have to fly to LA for that anyway, so he sets up a couple of writing sessions there as well, with John and Julian, and with Ruth-Anne.

He’s so nervous and excited he almost forgets to tell Zayn, but he remembers to text him a day before he flies out to America.

Have to work on some stuff in LA, wanna meet somewhere in South America after ? When are you free ?

When are you flying?

Tomorrow

Oh. Well I was thinking about staying in LA for a bit too, easier to meet with my management and stuff.

Niall bites his lip, wishing he’d remembered to text Zayn earlier.

Text me when you’re there ?

Sure

Maybe Niall’s overinterpreting, but it feels a little like a brushoff. He really hopes he hasn’t just fucked everything up.

The good thing is that Niall’s way too busy to overthink, which is something he tends to do in these kinds of situations. But with everything that’s going on, he leaves the house early in the morning and comes back home late at night, so tired all he does is fall right into bed.

But after two and a half weeks, Niall’s got four more songs to his name, The Tide, You and Me, Fire Away and Since We’re Alone, and he’s officially signed with the label of his dreams. He tweets about it, about being in the studio and working on things, and it gets an even bigger reaction than the few holiday pictures he’s shared. And those have gotten a huge response thanks to Zayn being in the group shots as well. It makes him hopeful. Maybe people are interested in his solo projects.

He gets a million texts as well, people congratulating him and telling him how excited they are. Zayn texts as well: Proud of you x. It’s the text that makes Niall the happiest.

He gets messages from Harry and Liam as well but ignores them for now. Not because he’s still angry, he thinks he’s worked through that, but because he’s embarrassed. It’s been so long since they talked that he doesn’t know what to say now. Does he apologise for being childish? Does he want to? He still thinks he’s at least a little bit entitled to his anger, though he has to admit he’s been dragging it along for far too long. Still, he’s not sure what to do.

So instead, he texts Zayn back, calmed down by his latest text. Just because Zayn didn’t use an emoji when he found out Niall was leaving for LA doesn’t mean he’s mad.

You in LA yet ? I’m free to travel in a couple days

It doesn’t take long for Zayn to reply that yes, he is in LA, and he’s even found them a flight to Rio already.

It’s in 3 days. Can you do that?

And so, 3 days and an 11 hour flight later, they’re in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, checking into their hotel. It’s pretty late already thanks to the 4 hours Rio is ahead of LA, so they decide to call it a night already and meet up for breakfast early at 8.30am instead.

In his room, Niall suddenly finds it strange that Zayn is next door and not here with him, which is strange in itself because they only shared a hotel room for a couple of nights, so Niall should not be used to it. Besides, it saves him from having to lie close to Zayn without being able to touch him. (It also takes away the possibility of kissing him again, but Niall tries not to think about that. It’s not like Zayn’s ever mentioned it again.)

The breakfast buffet is huge and they probably spend too much time with it, bent over Niall’s phone and trying to figure out what to do first.

“Maybe we should’ve packed a guidebook or something,” Niall says, grinning.

“You’re the organised one,” Zayn shrugs, patting Niall’s arm. “Figured you’d know what to do.”

“I mean, I do wanna see Christ the Redeemer again,” Niall says, “but that’s about my knowledge of Rio, and I didn’t have time to prepare any more.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Zayn says. “We can figure it out as we go.”

Their first day is spent around the centre of Rio, checking out the historical buildings, the Arcos da Lapa (a huge aqueduct from the 18th century) and the oldest public park in Brazil. After lunch, when it gets too hot, they take shelter in the National Museum of Fine Arts. This is particularly up Zayn’s street, and watching his face while he studies the paintings – he’s especially interested in all the Brazilian art – is making it much more enjoyable for Niall as well. He’s a little sappy, possibly - so what?

On day two, they take the cable car up to Sugarloaf Mountain, the funny shaped mountain just off the coast that offers famous views over the city. It is pretty spectacular, starting with the ride itself. It’s split in two with a stop at the lower summit, the cart has windows on every site and there’s about 60 people in one. No one offers them as much as a second glance, too busy looking outside. Up on the hill, the clouds or maybe the city smog are hindering the view a little bit, but it’s still breathtaking.

“Wow,” Zayn whispers. “Can’t believe we’ve never made it up here.”

“Would’ve had to rent the whole thing, back in 1D,” Niall jokes. “But I’m really glad we’re doing it now.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, nudging Niall’s shoulder with his own and then staying there, “me too.”

Later, they walk along the beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana, their feet in the water - but Niall between the sea and Zayn.  

They go out at night, finding a bar where a band plays Brazilian music and the cocktails are good, and after the third one, Niall pulls a reluctant Zayn onto the dance floor. He feels safe to do it here, having spotted at least six gay couples over the course of the night. Two girls have been making out just left of them for the better part of half an hour and no one’s even thrown them a sour look or anything. Not that him and Zayn are a couple anyway, but he’s aware it might seem like that to an outsider. Anyway, the music is just making him feel like dancing, that’s all.

Niall’s not a particularly good dancer, but he tries imitating the movements of the people around him and thinks he’s doing alright. It’s a lot of moving your hips and taking small steps back and forth, he thinks. Also, it’s clearly a partner dance, so he pulls Zayn in by the waist with one hand, reaching for Zayn’s with the other.

“Niall, I don’t know how to do that dance,” Zayn protests, but Niall just pulls him closer.

“Neither do I,” he grins. “Let’s just have fun, yeah? Give it a try.”

There’s a lot of stepping on each other’s toes at first but they get better with practice and every drink they have, and Niall’s honestly having the time of his life. With how much Zayn’s laughing, he’s pretty sure they’re on the same page there.

“Never thought dancing could be this much fun,” Zayn says, a little breathlessly while they’re waiting for another drink. His hair has started to droop and he keeps pushing the longer strands out of his eyes. His neck and collarbones are glistening with sweat and Niall swallows drily, trying to focus on Zayn’s face. Not that that makes it any easier with the way Zayn’s looking at him with those big dark eyes framed by long lashes. Plus, Niall keeps catching himself looking at Zayn’s mouth.

“It really is, isn’t it?” he says. It’s really hot, though, so he opens another button of his shirt, fanning himself.

“Yeah,” Zayn almost whispers, so quiet Niall leans a little closer in case he wants to say more. Zayn’s looking at - oh. He’s looking at Niall’s chest, and Niall feels himself flush hot all over. That wasn’t his intention, but he isn’t gonna complain when Zayn grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him in and pressing their lips together.

“Christ,” Niall mumbles against Zayn’s mouth, delighted when Zayn laughs at that and places a hand against the back of Niall’s neck, keeping him close.

“You’re so hot,” Zayn murmurs, licking into Niall’s mouth and Niall closes his eyes and lets himself be kissed, overwhelmed. Zayn thinks he’s hot.

He’s pressed against the bar, the edge digging into his back with Zayn’s entire length pressed up against him. They’re both sweaty and it should be gross, but even Niall doesn’t waste a second on thinking about a shower or anything but exactly this moment.

Of course, that’s when someone taps Niall’s shoulders and he jumps, turning around to find the bartender looking at him slightly annoyed. Oh, yeah, they ordered drinks and have to pay for them.

“Sorry, man,” he says, stepping away from Zayn to get out some money and pay before turning back to face Zayn. “Probably happens to him a lot.” Then, “Shit, did I bite you? Jesus Christ, Zayn, I’m so-”

“It’s okay,” Zayn says, pressing a napkin to his bleeding lip - only a little, but still, Niall feels terrible. “Could’ve happened to me, too, if he’d tapped my shoulder.”

“I completely forgot about him,” Niall admits, taking the napkin from Zayn to help. The bleeding’s stopped already, thank god.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, eyes darting around nervously. “Kind of forgot about everyone else for a bit there.”

“I don’t think anyone was paying attention,” Niall says, but it’s just as much himself he’s trying to calm down now that Zayn’s brought it up. What if someone did see? Shit, they really shouldn’t be doing this out in the open.

The mood’s ruined a little anyway, so they decide to leave their drinks at the bar and head back to the hotel. In the hallway by Niall’s door there’s a little awkward moment where Niall wonders if they should kiss goodnight, but then they just awkwardly wish each other a good night before disappearing into their separate rooms.

Niall takes a shower and tries not to think about much of anything while he wanks, embarrassingly wound up from a little kissing, and again when he’s lying in bed. There’s no point in analysing everything that’s happened tonight. He’s still absolutely clueless as to where they stand.

They visit Christ the Redeemer the next day, and the tension between them has reached a new high. Niall keeps catching himself standing too close, looking for too long, but he also notices how often Zayn touches him: a guiding hand at the small of his back, touching his arm, shoulder, waist to get his attention – and lingering too long. It’s torture, but Niall doesn’t want it to stop anyway.

The statue is just as impressive as the last time they were here, so unfathomably tall and bright it’s hard to believe it’s real. They spend a long time up there, sitting on a low wall facing the statue and just… looking. Their hands resting on the wall between them are close, and after a while, Zayn’s pinkie nudges Niall’s. Niall nudges back and bites his lip to keep in the smile.

They fly to Peru next, and during the flight, Zayn turns to Niall and says, “Hey, you know what? Wouldn’t it be much easier to just share a room? We wouldn’t have to set a time for breakfast and could plan in our room and stuff…”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, his heart beating in his throat. “Yeah, it’d be much easier.”

It’s reckless and definitely a stupid idea, but Niall can’t find it in him to say no. Mainly because he really, really doesn’t want to.

Lima is cooler than Rio but not cold either. So far, Niall thinks, winter in South America is really quite bearable. They check into their hotel, their hotel room – Niall tries very hard not to look at the double bed that’s very noticeably not twin beds for too long – then head out for some dinner.

Sea food seems to be the specialty around here, so they pick one of the cute little restaurants they see and order a couple of different things off the menu, even though they’re not sure what it is they’re ordering. Niall can translate the basics, but his Spanish isn’t enough for the details of the South American cuisine.

They get an assortment of soups and fish in different forms, and most of it is really good. They switch everything around so both of them can try everything, which is a really good idea. At one point, Zayn takes a bite and the face he makes is the most hilarious thing Niall’s ever seen, and he bursts out laughing. Head thrown back he keeps laughing until there are tears in his eyes and he bends over to wipe them away.

Zayn’s face is still pinched and he gulps down his drink, waiting for Niall to stop laughing.

“Oh my god,” Niall gasps, “your face! You should’ve seen it!”

Zayn tries to keep a straight face, but eventually he can’t keep it in anymore and starts laughing too. “It was disgusting,” he gets out through his giggles - fucking cute, by the way - and pushes the plate over to Niall. “You try it.”

Niall does, carefully, and he gets why Zayn was surprised by the taste. It’s very sour, citrus-y but at the same time definitely fish, and it’s cold. It’s really good, though, in his opinion.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, taking another bite and grinning at Zayn. “I think it’s quite good.”

“You keep it, then,” Zayn says. “I don’t want any more of it.”

Niall laughs again. “Your face, Christ. Wish I could’ve taken a picture.”

Zayn kicks him under the table. “Shut up,” he says, but he’s laughing too.

Back at the hotel, they’re still in a good mood by the time they climb into bed together. They lie there, facing each other for a moment, until Zayn breaks the silence and says, “I’m really happy we’re on this trip together.”

Niall smiles, scooching a little bit closer on his pillow. “Me too. Couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

They’ve had no alcohol tonight, but when Zayn’s eyes drop to Niall’s mouth, Niall doesn’t hesitate for a second to reach out, thumb carressing Zayn’s cheek. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, and Zayn nods, moving closer.

“Yes,” he says, and, “please.”

The quiet “please” almost does Niall’s head in but he manages to cross the space between them, connecting their lips. It feels just as wonderful sober, soft and unrushed like the first time at the beach in Thailand. But it’s here, on a hotel bed in Lima after a night full of laughter, that Niall realises he’s in love with Zayn. It’s not a shock, not really, he’s been falling for him for a while, but it’s still a revelation to Niall. He can’t pinpoint the moment when his feelings changed from “I’d maybe like to kiss him if he’ll let me” to “I kind of want to kiss him all the time in a committed relationship kind of way”, but he’s there now. It feels weird to say that to Zayn though, when they’ve never even talked about feelings of any kind. So Niall doesn’t speak, and just keeps kissing him.

It becomes a habit very quickly – they spend the day sightseeing around Lima and back at the hotel, they make out for ages until they fall asleep. They rent a car and drive down the coast to Ica, with a stop at a vineyard on the way where they get a tour and a wine tasting, including the traditional peruvian Pico Sour, a much stronger drink. And at night, they kiss until Niall’s lips feel sore and swollen, but in the absolutely best way. Ica itself is just a stop on the way to Nazca, where they book one of the tourist flights on a tiny plane to see the Nazca lines from above.

From there, they drive back to Lima and get on a flight to Juliaca, from where they can easily get to Puno right by Lake Titicaca. It’s a fascinating thing, that lake, because they’re high enough in the mountains for the air to start feeling thinner, but it’s so big it feels more like looking at the sea - a very, very calm sea with an almost mirror like surface. They stay by the lake for a couple days, visiting Inca ruins and the islands Isla del Sol and Isla de la Luna on the Bolivian side of the lake, but always returning to the small, cozy hotel they’ve found in Puno. It almost feels like actual winter up here, and Niall loves the colourful quilt on their bed and kissing Zayn underneath it at night.

Next, they fly from Juliaca to Cusco, the old Inca capital. It’s full to the brim with history and very pretty but they still only stay for a day before heading onwards to Aguas Calientes, taking the small tourist train that goes there from Cusco. It’s a very small village with an unproportional amount of hotels due to the fact that it’s the nearest village to the famous Machu Picchu. There are buses that take tourists up a very narrow street full of serpentines, but Niall and Zayn decide they can hike there, a path that’s supposed to take them 1,5 hours by foot. It’s the last part of the Inca Trail that many people hike all the way from Cusco in a several day march, so they’re really already being quite lazy.

As it turns out, though, neither of them are used to the altitude and breathing is harder than expected when the air is this thin, so they have to take a break after only a couple of minutes to catch their breath.

“Well,” Niall gasps, “I underestimated what a difference it makes that everything around Lake Titicaca is basically as flat as a pancake. We were much higher up there.”

“Why is this so steep,” Zayn says breathlessly. “We need to walk really slowly.”

After they adjust their speed, it’s not as difficult anymore. They’re high up but not so high that normal breathing doesn’t provide them with enough oxygen when they don’t overexert themselves. Once they’ve figured that out, they can actually start enjoying the spectacular landscape around them. The view over the surrounding mountains and the Sacred Valley of the Incas is fucking incredible, and Niall can’t help but take out his phone and snap pictures every time they climb a new peak. Zayn’s a bit ahead of him after he’s stopped to take another picture, up a couple of natural steps created by rocks, and Niall stops again to take a picture of him because it looks like he’s on top of the world. He grins at his phone when Zayn turns around and calls, “What are you waiting for?”

“Just took the coolest picture of you, calm down,” Niall grins, pocketing his phone and beginning to climb the rock steps. The last one is the highest one and Zayn reaches out a hand to help pull him up. He doesn’t let go of Niall’s hand after so Niall doesn’t either, trying not to smile.

“How’s your knee doing?” Zayn asks.

“Alright,” Niall says. “It’s not acting up yet, so we’re good.”

Zayn just squeezes his hand in response and they keep walking, too focused on their breathing to talk much. Niall can’t believe he’s hiking in Peru, holding Zayn’s hand, but he’ll gladly take this universe over everything else.

They make it to Machu Picchu after a two hour hike, which is close enough to the intended duration to make them feel proud. And once they’ve arrived, it’s clear that the trip was more than worth it.

“Holy shit,” Zayn says quietly and Niall nods.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Wow.”

They’ve arrived on a plateau a little ways above the Inca palace that’s partly restored and partly ruins, and the view is more breathtaking than their hike. Obviously, Niall’s seen pictures of this, but seeing the sheer vastness of the place, the size of it and of some of the stones that should not be able to have been used to build something without heavy machinery, as well as the view around it with the deep green mountains just don’t translate on a picture. It’s incredible.

They can’t stay for as long as they would maybe want to, but they have to get back down to Aguas Calientes before nightfall. Still, they manage to get almost everywhere that’s accessible to tourists, reading info signs or just taking it all in.

At their hotel, they take turns in the shower and by the time Niall comes back, Zayn’s already asleep. Niall smiles and thanks whatever is up there for the relatively low temperatures as he slips under the covers and becomes the big spoon.

To get to Chile, they have to retrace their steps over Cusco and Lima to fly out of the country from there, but taking a car somewhere else would’ve taken them significantly longer. They fly across the Atacama Desert, which kind of is a shame, since Niall would’ve loved to go there mainly for the unobstructed view of the stars at night and the Valley of the Moon, but they decided it would be too much out of their way and take up a lot of time when they’re both aware they can’t stay on this trip forever, not with everything that’s waiting for them back home.

“I wish we could see everything there is to see,” Zayn sighs. “Think my management would want to kill me, though, if I stayed away that much longer.”

“Did you meet with them in LA?” Niall wants to know.

“Yeah,” Zayn says. “They say I have to, like, give the fans something. I can’t just not tour.”

“Why not?” Niall asks, annoyed. “Shouldn’t that be your decision? They can’t force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. You know, there are alternatives to touring. You could have, dunno, smaller events for only a couple of fans. Or, like, play tiny venues only. And if you’re worried about too few people getting tickets, you could play two nights each. Or whatever, but it doesn’t have to be like it was in 1D. Don’t force yourself into that just because they say so.”

“You know,” Zayn says, pulling a little notebook from his bag. “I’ve started a list of things I could do, like, share the art they create inspired by my music. Or even have it printed nicely and send it to them. Or I could release music at a listening party, like, inviting a few fans to hang out with me while we listen to it for the first time.”

“Zayn,” Niall says. “That’s brilliant! You’ve always loved fanart, I remember. Those are brilliant ideas.”

“You think so?” Zayn asks, almost shy. “I haven’t shown them to anyone else yet. Thought it might be ridiculous.”

“No, I think they’re very you,” Niall assures him. “And just as valid as anything else. It’s your career, it’s your decision.”

“Thank you,” Zayn says. “Really, thanks for this. Maybe I’ll show them to my management once I get back.”

So when they land in Santiago, it’s already clear their trip has to come to an end relatively soon. Zayn’s got things to figure out with his management, Niall’s just been signed and has to do something with it, show Capitol he’s a worthy investment.

For now, though, they have a little time left. They’ve been on this trip for two weeks now, and both Niall and Zayn think they have at least three before someone might get annoyed with them.

How wrong Niall is about that, he finds out when he turns his phone back on in the cab on the way from the airport to the hotel they’ve booked the day before. Louis’ texted him, and he sounds plenty annoyed.

Okay I’ve been trying to let it go but I can’t. Why didn’t you tell me zayn was on that trip with you?! When did you make up with him? What about the others?

It’s a long story Lou , sorry I didn’t tell you ! Niall texts back. Haven’t spoken to Harry or Liam yet

Unsurprisingly, Louis calls him and Niall answers, knowing Louis will just keep calling if he doesn’t. He mouths a “sorry” Zayn’s way before he sighs, “yeah?” into the phone.

“Hello to you too,” Louis says. “Is it really that long of a story? Come on mate, you were angrier at him than I was! Or, like, more hurt, I don’t know. Definitely not going on any trips though!”

“I don’t know, Louis,” Niall says, and Zayn throws him a sharp look. “We ran into each other, got to talking and one thing lead to another. We both needed to get out for a while.”

“So if you talked to him why won’t you talk to the others? Liam came by the other day and it was really good, actually. Turns out he’s still my brother, even if he’s dressing worse now.”

“Could argue the same about you,” Niall teases. “And I don’t know. Didn’t really have to cross any bridges when we just ran into each other, did I? Think it might be my pride standing in the way. You must know what that’s like.”

Louis laughs. “Touché. So that means I have to set up-“ There’s a loud honk right outside Niall and Zayn’s cab, followed by a whole bunch more, interrupting Louis on the phone. “Wait, lad, where the fuck are you?”

“Um,” Niall says, then, “In Santiago de Chile?”

“What?” Louis says. “How? Why? Who with?”

“Uhhh,” Niall says. “Kind of a long story again, but Zayn and I decided to travel some more.”

“You’re with Zayn again?!” Louis yells and Niall winces, pulls the phone away from his ear a little bit. “What is going on?!”

“Yeah, I am,” Niall says, deciding to answer only the first question. “I’ll put you on speaker, yeah?”

Without waiting for Louis to reply, Niall puts his phone on speaker and Zayn says, “Hi, Louis.”

“Zayn,” Louis says. “Can you explain what’s happening? Niall won’t tell me anything.”

“Not much to tell,” Zayn says without looking at Niall. “We had a good time in Asia and figured it’d be cool to see some more places. We barely got recognised and if, people were very understanding if we said we didn’t want to take pictures.”

“Yeah,” Niall says, “it made me realise I can do way more things than I expected without being mobbed or anything. You know I was worried every time someone recognised me? But this trip made me realise that it doesn’t have to mean there’ll be hundreds of people showing up immediately.”

“I know,” Louis says. “I didn’t know you were that worried, Neil. Because of your claustrophobia?”

“Don’t call me Neil,” Niall says automatically. “And this isn’t a therapy session. Point is, I got over that and travelling helped a lot, and with other stuff as well. So we kept going.”

“What other stuff?”

“Music stuff,” Niall says at the same time as Zayn says,

“Tour stuff.”

“Ah,” Louis says knowingly. “So basically the two of you are therapy-road-tripping.”

They both laugh and Zayn says, “If you wanna call it that. Definitely helped me figure some stuff out. Get out of my head for a bit.”

“Right, I can’t say I’m not a little bit angry neither of you thought it necessary to tell me or ask me along,” Louis says, but he doesn’t really sound angry, “but I’m glad you’re doing this well, apparently. Really proud of you, Nialler, by the way. Capitol! I know how much you wanted that.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Niall says, smiling. “It’s mad.”

“How’s writing going, then?”

“Really well! It took me a while to be able to put my feelings into words and share them with the people I was writing with, but it’s been going really good lately.”

“What you writing about, then?”

“Breaking up, mostly,” Niall admits. “Got all the notes and concepts from last year that I needed to turn into something good.”

Louis over the phone and Zayn next to him are quiet for a moment, before Louis speaks up again. “Are you better now, though? You had a really hard time, there, for a while.”

Zayn’s knee nudges Niall’s and stays there, a silent show of support that makes Niall smile.

“Yeah,” Niall says, certain. “Writing about it is really cathartic, but I was over the whole thing anyway. It’s been over a year, after all.”

“Still feels like it’s been a while since that sounded sincere,” Louis says. “You know you can always talk to me, yeah?”

“Of course, Lou, thanks. I really am good now, though.”

“I’m glad,” Louis says. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, then, enjoy your little adventure. But if you don’t send a cheesy tourist selfie from every place you visit, I’ll really get mad!”

Niall laughs and Zayn says, “Alright, promise.”

They say their goodbyes and after Niall hangs up, Zayn turns to look at him. “I didn’t even know you had such a hard time,” he says, “I’m sorry I never asked.”

“It’s fine,” Niall waves him off. “It’s been ages now. Besides, you were going through your own break-up.”

“Even more reason,” Zayn sighs.

“It’s not like we talked about yours, really,” Niall says. This topic is making him a little uncomfortable, if he’s honest, he can already feel a tight ball of anxiety forming in his stomach for some reason.

“Dunno, I’m not, like, one to talk about it. Would rather work through it quietly on my own, or let it out through music.”

“Yeah, well,” Niall shrugs, “Me too.”

He knows what’s making him anxious, and as soon as he realises, he’d rather be anywhere else than in a cab with Zayn. He’s Zayn’s rebound. He was there, all moon-eyed around Zayn, an easy target for Zayn’s broken heart to cling to – until it’s fixed, and then he’ll realise there wasn’t ever any real feeling from his side.

Niall swallows, forcing himself to keep it together. So what, he’s fooled himself into thinking he had a chance. That’s okay, he can go back to the way it was, burying his feelings. He’ll need a bigger hole now that he’s fucking managed to fall in love, but he’ll manage. He has to.

Zayn’s looking out the window and Niall’s very deliberately not looking at him when Zayn turns back to speak again. “Anyway, that’s all over and done with now, yeah? You’re not still, dunno, you don’t have feelings for her anymore, do you?”

It’s such a surprising question that Niall forgets about the current situation for a moment. “No, ‘course not! It was kind of easy to remember the way I felt back then, channel the heart break, especially because of my notes, but I’m way past all that.”

“Good,” Zayn says, and Niall’s saved from any more questions when the cab stops in front of their hotel. The driver doesn’t speak a single word of English, which Niall is immensely grateful for, considering they’ve shared way too much personal stuff on this ride.

At their hotel room, Niall excuses himself to the bathroom to take a shower like he always does after travelling, but he stays inside much longer than strictly necessary, trying to get himself together.

A few tears escape while he’s under the shower, but by the time he exits the bathroom, he’s calm and collected, and he has a plan. There’ll be no more unnecessary touching, no more flirting, and most definitely no more kissing. It’s purely for self preservation, he’d still kiss Zayn any chance he gets if it were up to him, but he needs to get over him as quickly as possible and there’s no way that’s happening if they keep making out. From now on, they’ll just be two lads on a trip.

Niall’s quiet while they discover Santiago and carefully keeps his distance from Zayn. The closest he gets is when they take the promised selfie for Louis, during which Niall leans his right elbow on Zayn’s left shoulder to make sure he doesn’t get pulled any closer. He notices Zayn looking at him a little confused pretty often throughout the day, but he never asks.

There’s not a lot to see in Santiago, at least compared to many of the other places they’ve been to and for people who don’t speak Spanish because most of the culture exists in the form of museums, theatres and other events, so they only spend the day checking out the sights and the evening around a kind of artsy district, where they eat and later have a drink at a jazz club, which is a very cool experience.

Back at the hotel, Niall gets into bed with his back to Zayn for the first time in too long. It feels almost wrong, but Niall stays like that even when Zayn slips under the covers on his side. He stiffens when Zayn touches his back softly.

“You alright?” he whispers and Niall closes his eyes, pained.

“Yeah,” he says, reaching out to turn off his light. “Tired.”

“Okay,” Zayn says quietly after a moment. “Good night, Niall.”

“Night,” Niall mumbles, feeling like shit. Why did they start sharing a room? He doesn’t know how to get out of this arrangement now, especially because they’ve booked ahead for the next couple of days. It all really, really sucks.

Niall lies awake for a long time, wallowing in self-pity while at the same time hating himself for it. When he finally falls asleep, they’re still both firmly on their own sides of the bed.

From Santiago, they travel to the coast town Valparaíso by bus, since that seems to be the quickest option. They leave their luggage at their hotel and go out to find a place to have lunch. The city reminds Niall a little bit of Lisbon, actually. It’s right by the sea as well but built on hills with very steep streets, many stairs and even escalators and elevators as well. Most of the elevators turn out to be cable cars, though, which in turn reminds him of San Francisco. He loves it immediately.

It’s too cold to enjoy the beach - though slightly warmer than Santiago - but they find a nice restaurant with a view over it, at least, and have lunch there.

“Maybe I should learn to swim,” Zayn says, looking out at the sea while they’re waiting for their food to arrive.

“What?” Niall asks, incredulous. “Where’s that coming from suddenly?”

“This trip, I reckon,” Zayn shrugs. “We’ve been by the sea so many times and it is kind of beautiful, innit? And you, like, always looked like you had so much fun. I felt bad for keeping you outside with me and, dunno. Would’ve been nice to have fun with you, yeah?”

“Think we’ve had plenty of fun outside of the water too, Zayn,” Niall says softly. “What is it with this trip and self-revelations?”

Zayn laughs. “We should write a book about how to find yourself while travelling. Although that’s probably a terribly overused trope.”

“Maybe they can put quotes from us on these stickers on one of those book, then,” Niall suggests, adding in air quotes: “Proven to actually work by Zayn Malik and Niall Horan.”

“Immediate bestseller,” Zayn grins, but then he turns serious again. “But really, I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really happy we’re doing this. Like, it’s been so much fun and we’ve seen so many beautiful places and I feel, like, better and happier and freer than I have in ages. All thanks to you.”

And just like that, Niall wants to throw all his resolutions away and kiss him, right here in the middle of this restaurant. He doesn’t, can’t, but he wants to so much it hurts.

“It was teamwork,” he manages to mumble, unable to look Zayn in the eye. “Never would’ve happened without you, to be honest. Before Lisbon, it was just a stupid idea; I didn’t think you’d take me up on it.”

“In that case,” Zayn says, and that’s his foot under the table nudging Niall’s, “I’m glad I took you up on it.”

By the time they’re done with lunch and head out to see some sights, Niall has himself under control again – just barely, but enough to survive the day without professing his love or something equally embarrassing, hopefully. They mostly wander around the little cobblestone alleys, admiring the colourful houses and the street art they find, listening to the buskers they come across play catchy Chilean music and trying street food at a cute little stand. The harbour isn’t that pretty, since big parts of it are industrial or made for huge cruise ships, but there’s a smaller, prettier part there as well, for the sailing ships and small yachts. They take a cable car, or funicular to use the correct name, up a hill and enjoy the view over the city and the very blue Pacific Ocean, and then head to Bellavista Hill to check out the Museo a Cielo Abierto. Translated, it means open sky museum, and it’s basically just a couple of walls with no roof, and there’s murals everywhere. They’re mostly from the 40s and 50s and they’re really cool. The whole concept is something that Zayn’s very into. His face looking around the museum doesn’t exactly make things easier for Niall. How can he fall out of love with someone who looks at paintings on a wall like that?

Dinner is a mellow affair that evening, but Zayn won’t stop smiling and his foot rests against Niall’s the whole time. Niall can’t find it in him to move his away.

Back at the hotel, Niall’s in bed first again, settling down with his back to Zayn’s side again. This time, when Zayn joins him in bed, no one says anything for a while, but Niall knows they both know the other is still awake.

Then, suddenly, Zayn says into the silence, “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

It takes a lot of strength for Niall not to turn around at that. “No, of course not,” he protests, but he knows his voice sounds weird.

“Then why won’t you even look at me right now?” Zayn asks, and Niall closes his eyes for a moment, pained. Then he turns around.

“Better?”

“No,” Zayn whispers. “I don’t want to make you do these things. I want you to want them.”

“I want to,” Niall says just as quietly.

“Then why are you so distant sometimes lately?”

Zayn’s eyebrows are drawn and he’s looking right at Niall. His eyelashes are casting sweeping shadows onto his cheekbones in the dim light and he looks so soft, so caring and concerned, that Niall just sort of… stops thinking.

He surges forward and presses his lips to Zayn’s, who makes a surprised sound but reaches out to put a steadying hand against the back of Niall’s head and kisses him back. Moving closer, Niall slides a hand around Zayn’s waist and Zayn’s second hand clings to Niall’s shirt right over his heart. Niall rolls them over and deepens the kiss, every part of him rejoicing at being close to Zayn again.

They kiss for ages, almost desperately, until Niall rolls his hips against Zayn and Zayn breaks away, moaning helplessly.

“Please,” Niall mumbles, pressing kisses to every inch of Zayn’s face he can reach, “tell me I’m not just a rebound.”

Zayn stills under him, the hand on his heart flattening and pushing Niall away from him. “What?”

Niall closes his eyes and rolls off him. Why did he have to ruin everything? “Forget I said anything.”

“No,” Zayn says, sitting up to look at Niall. “Niall, what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Niall says, and he sits up as well, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, wants to leave - be anywhere else but here, but Zayn grabs his arm and holds him in place.

“What made you think I don’t… where does that whole rebound idea come from?”

“You had your heart broken! I was there and more than willing! It’s what happens, I get it, Zayn. I’m not mad at you, just at myself.”

“Hold on,” Zayn says, “what are you even talking about? I never said you were my rebound?”

“But I am!” Niall almost yells, then clamps his mouth shut.

“No,” Zayn says, tugging on Niall’s arm. “Niall, look at me. You got this all wrong and now it’s like, in your head. You’re not a rebound, you could never be just that. Yeah, I went through a break-up, and yeah, it hurt. But before I loved Gigi – you were already there.”

Niall lets that sink in for a moment, staring at Zayn. Then, weakly, he asks, “What do you mean?”

Zayn sighs, scooting closer on the bed and taking Niall’s hand, pulling it away from Niall’s mouth where he was biting his fingernails. “Look,” he says, “I’m, like, reasonably sure you know this, too. You and me – we were always different, yeah? Back in the band, even. There was always something there between us. Like, I don’t want to belittle the relationships we’ve had with other people, because I know those were real as well, and I know my feelings were real, but. I think, maybe, you can love more than one person at the same time, yeah? And it doesn’t mean any less. Sometimes it’s just not the right time for two people.”

Zayn’s got a tight grip on Niall’s hand, keeping it from fidgeting, but Niall’s knee and other hand are both going a little crazy while Niall listens and tries to process what he’s hearing.

“But… how do you know you don’t just think that because I was the only person around? Or, like, the only person offering themselves up?”

Zayn laughs a little, and if Niall isn’t imagining things, he sounds kind of fond. “You really need to work on your perception of yourself, Niall. You weren’t ‘offering yourself up.’ You were there for me, you helped me figure out so many things – but before you think this is some sort of misguided gratitude, shh, shut up, I know you would. It’s not. It’s you. It’s always been you, yeah? Your laugh was the first thing I noticed about you, back at the X-Factor, and when I got to know you better, I just kept finding out things that made you more loveable.”

“Stop,” Niall says, his face hot. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, and his hand is soft on Niall’s face when he tilts his head up. “Will you let me list the things I like about you?”

“No,” Niall says, blushing hot. “I did feel it too, though. That we were different with each other, I mean. I never thought it could actually be, so...like you said. My relationships didn’t mean less because of what I felt for you.”

“And now?” Zayn asks. “You still don’t think we could be?”

“I didn’t know what you thought,” Niall says, embarrassed. “You know how good I am at working myself up over things in my head. Reckon I managed that in this case as well.”

“Well, for the record, I think we could be fucking brilliant if we stopped being stupid.”

Niall laughs, heart hammering in his chest. “So do I.”

“I thought that was obvious with all the kissing,” Zayn says, grinning at Niall a little ruefully. “Should’ve known I needed to put it into actual words for you to stop doubting yourself.”

Niall taps his forehead with a finger. “Need to make it all very clear for this one.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” Zayn asks. “For real, this time?”

Instead of answering, Niall crosses the space between them, connecting their lips. Finally. They’ve kissed so many times already, but this feels like the first time he can really let go. Zayn’s smiling and so is Niall, and eventually they have to pull back because they can’t kiss like this.

“Some right idiots, we are,” Niall laughs. “Christ, we could’ve had so much time together already, if only we’d talked back in Asia.”

“Got lots to make up for then,” Zayn says, wrapping his arms around Niall and holding him close. Niall hugs him back, presses his face to Zayn’s neck. “Hey, is this – you thinking you were only a rebound for me – the reason you always stopped before we could go any further?”

Niall thinks about that for a minute. “Think that was a subconscious decision, actually. But yeah, probably. I already let down way too many walls. I was trying to protect myself, I guess.”

“Fair enough.” Zayn sighs, “And to think that half an hour ago, I was beginning to think I had to fly home to stop making you uncomfortable.”

Niall grins against Zayn’s skin. “Remember how we made up after that fight before Asia and how proud we were of communicating like adults? Looks like that was a bit premature.”

“Eh,” Zayn makes, jostling Niall when he shrugs. “We’ll get it right. Practice makes perfect.”

“That’s what they say,” Niall agrees, then presses a lingering kiss to Zayn’s throat. “So… we’ve figured everything out now, right? We like each other, we want to kiss each other all the time?”

Zayn hums, tilting his head back a little to give Niall better access. “Exactly.”

“So,” Niall mumbles, moving up Zayn’s throat to his jaw. “Have we talked enough? Can we get back to kissing?”

“For now,” Zayn says, and then he’s pushing Niall down into the mattress, swinging one of his legs over Niall to straddle him, and they’re back where they left off.

Niall lets Zayn take the lead, his hands resting on Zayn’s hips while he lets himself be kissed. Eventually, he slides one hand up from Zayn’s hip, pushing under his shirt at his back and stroking his hand up and down, revelling in the feel of Zayn’s skin under his hand. Zayn hums against his lips and pushes his hands under Niall’s shirt too, over his stomach and up to his chest, making Niall shiver underneath him. Zayn’s touched him there before, it’s kind of inevitable with how often Niall doesn’t wear a shirt, but it’s never felt like this.

He tugs on Zayn’s shirt, mumbles “off” against his lips and Zayn pulls his hands out from under Niall’s shirt to help him while at the same time trying to keep kissing Niall for as long as possible. They eventually manage to get the shirt off and Niall sits up a little so Zayn can take off his as well.

“You know how hard it was,” Zayn says, ignoring kissing Niall for now in favour of running his hands all over his torso, “being around you all the time in Asia when you literally walked around shirtless literally any time you got the chance? I wanted to touch you so badly.”

Niall groans, placing his hands on Zayn’s thighs and gripping them tightly when Zayn leans down to start mouthing on Niall’s chest.

“Been wanting to get my mouth on you for ages,” Zayn mumbles against Niall’s skin and Niall’s brain feels as if it’s about to be fried. Figures Zayn would be into dirty talk. He’s quite possibly not gonna survive this night.

Zayn kisses his way down Niall’s chest to the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down on one side to press his lips to Niall’s hipbone.

“Off,” Niall gasps and lifts his hips to make it easier for Zayn.

Once they’re both naked, there’s a few frantic minutes where they both try to put their hands and mouths everywhere at once, but eventually they slow down again, pressed close and kissing.

“Niall,” Zayn mumbles after a while, his hand stilling on Niall’s butt. “Did you bring anything on this trip?”

“What?” Niall says, distracted, then groans. “No, fuck. I have condoms but I didn’t pack lube.” Zayn snorts against his neck and Niall bursts into helpless giggles. “I take it you didn’t either?”

“No,” Zayn laughs, “shit. I really wanted you to fuck me.”

Niall almost chokes on his laugh, then catches himself enough to roll them over and attach his lips to Zayn’s neck for a moment before saying, “Well, we can buy lube tomorrow. And until then, do everything we don’t need it for.”

Zayn hums. “I don’t know how many condoms you brought, but I’m clean, just so you know.”

“Me too,” Niall says, pushing Zayn all the way onto his back and kissing the spot where he used to have the lips tattooed. “Good. Can I blow you first?”

~

Things are different, after. Thankfully so, Niall thinks as his hand bumps Zayn’s again while they walk through the alleys of Valparaíso, and Zayn bumps right back. Niall bites his lip and reaches out, entangling their fingers. When he looks over at Zayn, he’s smiling.

After Chile, they fly over to Argentina. Niall’s gotten a text from Marco already, asking him when he’ll be back, so they know they’re running out of time, but neither of them wants to go back just yet. They figure they can afford two more days in Buenos Aires before their travel time has to end.

While Valparaíso was relatively quiet around this time of the year, Buenos Aires is buzzing with energy and full of both locals and tourists. Niall is aware they can’t just walk around holding hands here - it might be unlikely someone’s gonna spot them in the crowd, but it’s not impossible. And that can’t happen, not before they’ve at least talked about it, about what exactly they are and how they want to do this. Which- Niall’s pretty sure about the first thing, they like each other, they’ve gotten this far, but. It’s so much more to Niall by now, and he’s not sure how Zayn will feel about that, if it’ll be too much too soon for him. And even though Niall’s sure about his own feelings, he’s not sure how he wants to handle things. He’s always liked to keep his relationships quiet and private, so he thinks that’d be the best way to go now as well. But Zayn’s different, although he too likes his privacy, he’s always been open about his relationships. So they have to talk about it, but for now, Niall just really wants to stay inside their little happy bubble for as long as possible.

Buenos Aires is electric, somehow, and for two days, they have fun discovering its sights during the day and the bars at night. There’s music everywhere, and sometimes it’s dark enough for them to feel safe making out at a corner table.

They send Louis the promised selfies and Louis sends Niall two messages, well don’t you two look cozy, and a whole row of eye emojis in the second one.

It’s really annoying how perceptive he’s always been. Niall’s never let anything slip. Their selfies don’t even look any different to Niall, at least not the ones they share. He sends back a winking emoji that Louis will probably take as confirmation, but it’s not as if they wouldn’t have told him soon anyway.

On their flight back to LA, they have adjoining seats in First Class and draw the curtains around them for some additional privacy. Niall gets the feeling that Zayn doesn’t want to leave their bubble either when he lowers the armrest between them and curls up in his seat, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder. Niall wraps his arm around him and presses a lingering kiss to his head.

“You know Louis’ setting something up for you to meet up with Harry and Liam, yeah?” Zayn says quietly and Niall sighs, rubs a hand up and down his arm.

“Yeah, I figured something like that. But it’s okay, it’s time,” Niall says. “I don’t have any hard feelings, and if they don’t hate me for ignoring them this long, I think we’ll be fine.”

“They won’t,” Zayn says, sitting up again to look at Niall. “Hey, I’m really proud of you. You’ve changed over the past few months, but in the best way possible, like, you’re more confident and focused, and, like, settled. You know what you want and that’s really impressive.”

Niall blushes, looking at his hands. “Let’s hope it works out, too.”

“It will,” Zayn says, and it makes Niall’s heart lurch how sure he sounds. “Quit worrying, babe.”

“You haven’t even heard any of my songs yet,” Niall says, thinking about the notes for more songs he’s taken over the past few days. He thought he’d found his voice for his album, but these are probably gonna be happier songs.

“Maybe you can play me some when we get back,” Zayn shrugs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Niall nods. “Yeah. You could even come to the studio with me if you wanted. Like, when I go in to record some stuff.”

“That’d be cool,” Zayn says. “So what’s the plan, then? For when we get back?”

Niall does a little half shrug. “Gonna be busy, I reckon. I was thinking maybe I should release something, like, just to let people know I’m still doing music. Capitol were thinking one of those “one mic, one take” things, and I think that could be fun. And then, you know. Writing until I feel like I’ve got an album worth and recording it all. I asked if it’s realistic for me to record it all with a live band and apparently it is! They’re trying to get me in with Greg Kurstin, or even Jacquire King, can you believe that? Yeah, so that, and then, like, the more normal stuff. Get my house done, finally, go and get my hair dyed again...” He runs a hand through his now almost entirely brown hair, ruffling it a little, and Zayn follows the movement with his eyes.

“I think you should leave it,” he says. “If you’re not too attached to the blond. But if it’s just because you think people won’t care for the brunette you - leave it. It looks really good, it suits you like this.”

“You think so?”

Zayn lifts a hand and runs it through Niall’s hair, softly, until he tugs lightly on it at the back of Niall’s head, and Niall can’t help closing his eyes at that.

“Yeah,” Zayn whispers and leans over to kiss his cheek.

Niall grabs the front of his t-shirt to keep him close and Zayn gets it immediately, kissing him for real.

“And what about us?” Niall asks a few minutes later, when they’re basically sharing one seat between the two of them. “What’s the plan for us?”

Zayn hums. “What do you want? I just know that I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Niall chuckles, a little relieved if he’s honest. “Of course,” he says. “You heard my embarrassing confession the other night, remember?”

Zayn grins. “I didn’t think it was embarrassing. But as for a plan, you know me. I usually just go with things. But I’m sure you’ll want to keep it private, so I won’t go around telling everyone. I’m more than fine with that.”

“Yeah?” Niall asks. “I mean, obviously our friends and family can know. But I’m not really a public boyfriend.”

Zayn smiles and kisses the corner of his mouth. “As long as you’ll be my boyfriend I don’t care whether it’s public or not.”

Niall smiles, can feel it spread out over his whole face. The future is looking pretty fucking bright right now.

A little over one year later

Niall wakes up to the smell of breakfast. With a blissful smile, he keeps his eyes closed for a few more moments and presses his face to the soft pillow. It’s very quiet outside the window, no cars, no sirens, no regular city noise. Blinking carefully against the sun, Niall slowly opens his eyes. The other side of the bed is empty, and though it took some time getting used to, Niall’s come to expect it these days.

After a detour to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth, he pads barefoot towards the kitchen.

Zayn’s by the stove, cooking something in a pan and wearing only joggers. On the breakfast bar to his right there’s coffee and two big mugs, plates, a basket with croissants and bagels, something that looks like fruit salad, cream cheese and an assortment of everything Niall likes on his bagels. He smiles and walks up to Zayn, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. Zayn’s skin is warm and he relaxes back into Niall immediately, lowering the spatula in his hand. There’s eggs and turkey bacon in the pan, as he can now see.

“Morning,” Niall mumbles, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s jaw because he can reach that without having to move.

“Morning, superstar,” Zayn says, one hand rubbing along Niall’s arm around his waist. “Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up but I figured you’d be tired and I had to get up early.”

“I know,” Niall says, his eyelids drooping again already. “‘S okay. I know you need to check on everyone.” He grins a little and kisses Zayn’s shoulder. “My sexy farmer boyfriend.”

Zayn laughs and turns around in his arms, finally giving Niall his good morning kiss. “Why don’t you sit at the breakfast bar while I finish this? I’ll be done in a minute.”

Niall pouts playfully and clings to him for a moment longer but eventually lets go and sits down on one of the stools by the bar.

He really likes how Zayn is around here, more relaxed and happier than anywhere else, except maybe at his mum’s house. Zayn bought this farm almost a year ago, in rural California but only a four hour drive from LA, as an antipole to the stress that being in the spotlight causes him. So far, it seems to have worked exactly how he’s planned it. Zayn’s at the farm very regularly and enjoys helping out, but there’s an actual farmer and his family taking care of the animals and the fields when he isn’t there. They live in a house on the other side of the farm, but Zayn’s got this one, a white wooden house with red window frames and doors, done up perfectly to his and Niall’s wishes. When he bought the farm, it was barely more than a shed rotting away, but now it’s got two bedrooms, two bathrooms and a big living space with a modern kitchen. Niall loves coming here whenever he has a couple of days off.

Zayn sets down the eggs and bacon in front of Niall and slides onto the stool next to him, kissing his cheek and wiping a thumb underneath his eye softly.

“Tour tiring you out? You could’ve stayed in bed longer.”

“Nah,” Niall says and presses his lips against Zayn’s wrist as his hand moves to cup Niall’s cheek. “I only have four days here with you then I have to be back on tour, and you know if the boys say they’re coming for dinner they’ll probably stay for at least 24 hours again, so I won’t waste our alone time on too much sleep. ‘Sides, touring is fun; this is the good kind of tired still.”

“Yeah?” Zayn asks. “Been watching videos on Twitter, you’re really enjoying these small little venues, hm? And dragging everyone during Fool’s Gold, I hear.”

Niall laughs. “I can really hear them all,” he says, “and they can hear me without a mic! It’s great.”

Zayn smiles and pushes more food his way. “But you’re still planning to move onto bigger venues next year?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, chewing on a bagel. “The Flicker World Tour is gonna be arenas and amphitheatres, I talked to my managers. Might even finally get to play Red Rocks!”

“Wow,” Zayn grins, “ticking off one bucket list venue each tour. Can’t wait to see you play at the Troubadour in a few weeks. And if you want, I’ll fly to Colorado next year too to see you at Red Rocks.”

“Been thinking about what to add to the set list next year,” Niall says. “Cause we were messing around during soundcheck and I think we figured out a way to play “So Long” so it doesn’t fall short compared to the others.”

Zayn looks down at that, but Niall can see he’s smiling. “In that case I’ll definitely have to go to every show I can. You know I love those lyrics.”

“Yeah,” Niall says quietly, happily. He can’t believe he’s this lucky, sitting here, having breakfast with his boyfriend on their farm - because it’s Zayn’s technically, but there’s so many of Niall’s touches in their interior design that it feels just as much his. He’s touring a lot, has just released his album that’s gone number 1 and is always on the move doing promo, but he’s got this to come home to.

His phone buzzes on the counter and he looks over, sees it’s a text from Liam.

one year of this town! congrats mate! just saw it on twitter and thought of you x

thanks mate ! can’t wait to see you and the boys in a couple days

yeah yeah i know you want zayn all to yourself lol tell him hi and see u soon x

“Liam says hi,” Niall lets Zayn know, then puts his phone on silent and turns it screen-down. “What’s the plan for today? You can take me on a tour to say hi to all the animals first, if you’re not busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” Zayn grins. “We’ve got a couple of new animals around, and you’ll love the baby pigs. The chickens are all grown up already though.”

“Aw,” Niall makes, “it doesn’t feel like that long since I was last here. But as long as there are baby animals to see!”

“The piglets will be the last ones for this year, though,” Zayn says. “Don’t think we’ll be getting any more, like, offspring this late in the year.”

“Look at you being all knowledgeable,” Niall says, hopping off the barstool and stepping in between Zayn’s thighs. “Now put on a shirt and take me on a walk through your wildflower meadow and to all your animals, Mr. Farmer.”

“Aye, sir,” Zayn says, then grins and slides one hand into Niall’s hair. “If you behave I’ll even show you my corn fields.”

Niall “ooo”s and kisses Zayn’s chin, lets Zayn tilt his head upwards and kiss him properly. He wraps his arms around Zayn, enjoying the fact that Zayn’s taller than him in this position.

“I can’t believe you’re almost a real farmer now,” Niall mumbles after a while. “Gettin’ up early and everything.”

“And I can’t believe how into it you are,” Zayn grins against his lips. “Wearing a cowboy hat and jeans shirts and belts bloody everywhere.”

Niall laughs at that, twisting a strand of Zayn’s hair that’s grown a little longer again around his fingers. “And I can’t believe how into that you are. I know you love the cowboy hat.”

Zayn shrugs and grins unabashedly. “You know what they say. Save a horse…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall rolls his eyes.

His nonchalant act gets shattered by his blush when Zayn finishes the saying though, his voice lower now: “... ride a cowboy.”

Niall hums and takes a step back, knowing that if they don’t stop where their conversation is heading now, they won’t leave the house today. And he really does want to see what’s changed around the farm since he last visited.

“Maybe later,” he says with an exaggerated wink before he turns around. “Now get dressed, love.”

“Dick!” Zayn calls after him and Niall just laughs as he steps out onto the veranda.

From here, he can look down the gentle slope of the hill to the fields and all the way to the complex of stables and the adjoining grazing land. It’s green here, even after the hot summer months, idyllic and quiet. It’s a great place for two popstars to go, because no one expects them here. In LA, there’s 1D reunion rumours every time they’re spotted together, but even there, still no one’s figured out that Zayn has pretty much moved into Niall’s house and their “nights out” or “shared grocery shops” or “coffee runs” are all in fact dates or rather just them spending their lives together. They’re not keeping anything a secret, their privacy is just enough to keep rumours at bay.

Zayn comes back and joins Niall on the veranda in jeans and an old plaid shirt. He wraps an arm around Niall’s waist and says in a deep voice, “Look Niall, everything the light touches, is our kingdom.”

Niall laughs and shoves him away lightly, but immediately pulls him back in by the waist. “You’re an idiot.”

Zayn smiles. “Your idiot.”

Niall smiles back and wraps his other arm around Zayn too, rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” Zayn says back, holding him close.

It’s so good to be home.