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Zayn is so close that Liam swears if he had better hearing, he’d be able to make out Zayn’s heartbeat. Not that Liam can do anything about their proximity–he’s all too aware of the fact that he can’t even move a centimeter back, his legs already pressed up against the table behind him. “You are so beautiful, and so smart, too. You’re gonna own the fucking world.” Zayn pauses after he gets the words out, gauging Liam’s reaction.
His eyes must flash distrust, disbelief, or a hybrid of the two, because Zayn continues, “I mean that.” He sounds so genuine that Liam wants to cry (a fact which he tries not to dwell on too much, hating himself for allowing Zayn to make him feel that way). “And I’m not just saying that to get in your pants.”
Liam’s eyes flit away from Zayn’s, his face flushing from the comment. Can Zayn just read every single fucking thought that passes through his mind before he’s even able to process it himself?
After a moment of his brain shortcircuiting, Liam cautiously brings his eyes back to him. Zayn takes the opportunity to look curiously at Liam, raising one eyebrow before he asks, “Guys don’t typically do this to you, do they?”
Liam sighs. It’s the hottest eyebrow raise he’s ever seen.
Liam just shakes his head, because, well, they don’t. He’s not necessarily used to being around the romantic kind of men, more the type of man that will grind with him from behind, never even glimpsing his face. “You deserve a guy that will do that for you. A guy who will care for you, and nothing less,” Zayn whispers intently, his eyes never leaving Liam’s.
Before Liam even has the chance to process whatever the fuck Zayn is doing, the pads of his fingers are grazing lightly over Liam’s cheekbone, only there for a flash of a second before he drops them, gone as suddenly as they arrived.
“What are you doing, holding an empty glass?” Zayn teases abruptly, gently grabbing it from Liam. “I’ll top it off for you.”
By the time his heart begins to calm down, Zayn’s out of the room. Liam clears his throat the moment Zayn rushes out, shooting a quick glance at Louis. Just as he’d suspected, Louis is giving him a long look, his eyebrows practically to his hairline.
“That seemed… real,” Louis hums, the surprise in his voice all too palpable.
Smiling weakly, Liam’s heart slips further down into his chest, Louis’ words the same ones that Liam had been too afraid to even think, let alone say. “You thought so, too?” Liam gets out, his voice coming out throaty.
“He’s definitely into you,” Louis confirms easily, as if this doesn’t make everything ten times harder.
Liam groans, the weight of it all suddenly crushing his windpipe and apparently everything else that helps him breathe. He coughs roughly.
Louis tilts his head, looking quizzically at Liam. “You’re into him, though.” He doesn’t phrase it as a query–Louis Tomlinson doesn’t phrase things he knows without a doubt as questions.
“What in the bloody hell was that, though? I’m gonna ‘own the world’? Who fucking says that?”
Louis shrugs. “Zayn Malik, I guess.”
Liam cards his fingers through his hair, avoiding Louis’ gaze. In a moment, he’s gone from an adrenaline high to feeling all the energy drain out of him at once.
“He’s such a flirt, though! I mean, you’ve seen him. Around Harry, around you…” Liam mutters the next words under his breath, an exhale quick to follow. “Around any man that lives and breathes, I swear.”
Louis purses his lips, pondering Liam’s words. “Yeah, but… not like that. Not even close.”
Liam’s about to respond–he’s not quite sure what, honestly–when Zayn is back in the room, lifting Liam’s beer up high in victory. “Sounds like Harry and Niall are already heading to the corn maze now, so we better go soon.” He gives Liam a wicked smile. “So drink up, Li.” He lifts his own recently-filled drink and starts chugging it, getting about halfway through before he stops to take a breath.
“Guess I’m driving then,” Louis huffs, rolling his eyes as he gives Zayn a death stare.
“Thanks, mate,” Zayn smirks, flashing a wink before he turns his attention back to a now beer-chugging Liam.
“Have you ever been to a corn maze before?” Zayn asks excitedly, seemingly all too interested in Liam’s answer.
“No,” Liam admits with a shrug. “They’re not that big in Britain.”
“Ah,” Zayn’s eyes twinkle mischievously at Liam’s confession. “What a shame.” He lifts his drink back up as dramatically as possible to down what’s left of his drink before glancing at Liam to do the same.
He follows suit as Louis stomps off to go “start the fucking car.”
“Let’s go,” Zayn smiles widely as he practically skips after Louis, quickly glancing back at Liam to make sure he’s following.
The whole ride passes by quickly, Liam giggling at every joke Zayn whispers in his ear while Louis pretends not to hear as he just cranks up the radio (but all the same, he’s unable to keep his eyes off of the two of them from the rearview mirror).
Liam and Zayn are the last ones out of the car, Louis practically running to Harry the second he puts the car in park.
“Ready?” Zayn asks, leaning in just slightly. His hot mouth is dangerously close to Liam’s collarbone, and Liam can’t remember how to breathe anymore.
He just hums, letting Zayn pull him out of the car to find the others.
After Zayn insists on paying for everyone–”As the sole American in this group, ‘tis my duty.”–he’s quick to break them up into groups.
“I’m gonna take Liam first because I think he’s the most afraid. I want to make sure that he doesn’t get too terrified all alone in the dark.” He gives him a wicked pout followed by a low cackle.
“Shut it,” Liam mutters, tapping his hip against his own as Zayn leads him into the maze.
“I told you, you deserve a guy that cares for you,” Zayn says quickly, and it seems like a joke. Almost.
It falls flat, though, when Liam catches the softness and seriousness in his voice that’s come back full force from earlier.
He leads Liam forward, purposefully turning left when the maze offers a few different choices.
“You’ve never been to a corn maze before, right?” He asks as soon as he hears the rest of the gang (loudly) head to the right, leaving the two of them alone.
Liam waits for them to continue around another corner before he lets out a soft, “Yeah.”
“Well, then you should know that there’s a rule.” Zayn pauses, allowing Liam to lead the way as they find themselves at another crossroad. This time, Liam takes a left. “You have to hold my hand the whole time.”
Silence follows Zayn’s words, Liam too shocked to know how to respond.
“Really weird I know,” Zayn shrugs. “But, like, I think we should follow it.”
Liam snorts, thankful for the darkness. He can feel his cheeks burning, about to catch fire. But when Zayn doesn’t seem to shy away, he blinks, seeing Zayn’s hand slide closer to his.
Liam hesitates, his hand starting to make its way towards Zayn before he stops. “What about the others?” Liam breathes, his words so quiet that he can barely even hear himself.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re in their own little world,” Zayn laughs, imagining how loved up Harry and Louis must be, with an unlucky Niall trailing behind them.
“No,” Liam says, and he’s surprised by the terseness in his voice. “What about the others?”
“What?” Zayn stops, the sound of his footsteps quickly tapering out.
“I’m not a game, Zayn.” He huffs, trying to catch Zayn’s eye but he’s unable to in the dark of night. “I’m not into being played.”
The long pause that follows almost kills Liam. Or, at least, it feels like it.
“I’m not… “ Voice almost inaudible, Zayn trails off. “I’m not trying to play you, Liam.” He exhales, realizing immediately that’s not quite true. “Okay, fine. Well, actually… There’s no rule that says we have to hold hands.”
Liam can’t help himself: he starts laughing at this, at the obviousness of the statement. He leans his head against Zayn’s shoulder for a flash of a moment to giggle. Because, of course, that’s not a tradition. Liam’s not a git. But the fact that Zayn so genuinely thinks that might be what’s worrying Liam… he’s so fucking cute, it hurts.
“What?” Zayn asks again, starting to feel more like a broken record by the second.
“That’s not what I’m concerned about,” Liam replies softly, not able to meet Zayn’s eyes anymore.
“Leeyum,” Zayn rolls the word off his tongue like it’s the only word he’s ever known, like it’s the only name his mouth was meant to speak. “I’m going through this maze with you, aren’t I?” He chuckles at himself, at how absurd the whole situation is: having to explain his idiotic flirting in the dark of a corn maze with a guy he’s absolutely crazy about. “And I made up this stupid shit for you, didn’t I?”
Liam hums at this, pondering his words as he squints at him as best as he can. His gaze darts downwards as he swears that he can see Zayn’s hand twitch by his.
He allows Liam to make the move, waiting patiently until after a few moments of debating, he grasps Zayn’s hand with a hard squeeze.
“I mean, if it’s a tradition…” Liam mumbles with a grin, his words not even sounding believable to himself.
“Yeah, you know us crazy Americans,” Zayn laughs as he squeezes back. “Lots of weird traditions.” He leans forward to press a light kiss to Liam’s cheek. “Did I mention that there’s also a rule about having to kiss in the corn maze? If you want to make it out.”
Liam can feel the smile forming on Zayn’s lips against his skin. He isn’t going to argue with that.