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The view outside Zayn's window is stunning. He never gets sick of it. From the comfort of his room, he can watch the waves crash and the seagulls flit about, dancing across the pale sand.
Zayn's window is also an excellent entry point to his room. Which is why he's not surprised in the least when he sees a pair of dark blue eyes peering through his window, and a pale knuckle rapping softly at the glass. Zayn, quite literally, rolls out of bed, getting tangled in his sheets. When he finally works out how to get his limbs out, he walks over to the window, unlatching it and pushing it up.
Niall climbs in right away, his backpack in one hand and a Seven-Eleven bag in the other. He's babbling away at Zayn while he slips off his Vans, dumping the contents of his bag on Zayn's desk. "... and then I'm like, 'Plato shipped it, they were in love, get over it.'"
Zayn collapses back onto his bed, closing his eyes and burying his face in his pillow. A second later, he feels something flop onto his bed, settling into Zayn's covers. "Niall?" he asks, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Hmm?" Niall responds.
Zayn peers down at where the blond boy is sprawled across his bed, dressed in sweatpants and an old band shirt. "What're you doing here?"
Niall makes an affronted noise. "Gosh, Zayn, it's almost as if you're my best friend and I missed you while I was away," he says, in that funny little accent of his.
They live in an old coastal town called Ocean Isle Beach, which is just half an hour away from Myrtle, in South Carolina. Zayn's lived in Ocean Isle his entire life, but Niall moved there from upstate New York in fifth grade. Zayn still remembers the quiet line of Niall's mouth, and his hair, dark brown back then. It's not like Zayn speaks with a Southern Belle accent, but Niall sounds a little different than everyone else. Zayn sort of loves it, though he'll never admit it.
"How was Greg?" Zayn opts to ask about Niall's older brother than ramble on about the way he talks.
Niall shrugs. "You know him. He's happy as a clam up in New York. Made loads of friends already." Greg had decided to go back up north for college, even though Niall and his family were staying in Ocean Isle for the long, unseeable future.
The thing about Niall is that he's about as introverted as it gets. Zayn knows that people would perceive him as the loud blond kid who laughs too much, because that's what Zayn thought when Niall first moved to Ocean Isle. And that might still be what other people see, but Zayn knows better. Niall didn't even go over to Zayn's house until seventh grade, after they'd been best friends for the better part of sixth grade.
"And your trip?" asks Zayn.
Another nonchalant shrug. "There's nothing to do up there, you know? Like, what, we'll go to the cinema and then take Sirius to the dog park." The Horans have a black terrier named Sirius, courtesy of Niall. (Zayn knows he's actually a massive Potterhead, but Niall won't admit it to anyone other than Zayn.) "Missed you," he adds quietly, sending Zayn one of those smiles.
One of those smiles meant soft crinkles by Niall's navy eyes, and pale pink lips tilted upwards at the corners. It wasn't extremely bright, or overjoyous. It was quiet happiness, a moment of fondness. Those smiles usually sent butterflies zipping around Zayn's stomach.
Zayn finds Niall's ankle and gives it a soft squeeze, then releases it. "Missed you more," Zayn replies. He eyes the candy and frozen snacks scattered around his desk. "What's with the junk food?"
Niall springs up from the bed, plucking a bag of chips from his pile. "I got hungry on the way over here," he says, munching loudly on some Doritos.
"So you bought out the whole seven-eleven?" Zayn retorts, gesturing to the supermarket on his desk.
"Sure. Hey, you wanna go to Dairy Queen?"
Zayn blinks at him. "Do I want to go to Dairy Queen at..." Zayn digs his phone from under his pillow, checking the time, "half past two in the morning?"
Niall grins at him. "Yeah."
"You want to... okay," Zayn mutters, sliding off his bed. This wasn't anything new. After being friends with Niall for a few years, you had to be able to pretend like you have no self-preservation at all. "Are we getting dressed or going like this?"
"Going like this, duh," Niall says, rolling those magnificent eyes. "Who do you think we are?"
"People are gonna judge us!" Zayn argues, pulling on his favorite hoodie. It's light grey with a big "OIB" on the back, from the surf shop across town.
"Only you would be worried about the resident crackheads of this town judging us." Niall steps back into his Vans. Between those, his rumpled blond hair that goes dark at the roots, and his ratty Killers shirt, Niall looks proper disheveled. "You overthink too much, Zayn."
Zayn heaves a sigh. "It's too late to be talking about personality changes."
"No, I think it might be a good thing. Someone in this friendship needs, like, common sense, right?"
"If you say so."
Niall beams at him. "It's like a symbicort relationship."
This makes Zayn crack up. He shakes his head, trying to jam on his water-ruined Converse. "Symbiotic, Niall. Symbicort is an asthma medication."
Niall wrinkles his nose. "Not all of us are in honors English, you stupid genius."
Zayn stuffs his phone in his sweatpants pocket, along with his wallet. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, you're gonna have to shut up while we get across the yard."
Niall makes an affronted noise. "What makes you think I'd be the one to give us away? We've done this plenty of times anyway."
That is true. Midnight runs to Dairy Queen, and then maybe a walk on the beach, wasn't uncommon among kids at Ocean Isle. When you live in a small town of a couple thousand, you had to get pretty creative when it came to outings to quench your boredom.
They climb out of Zayn's window, being careful to shut it all the way but not lock it. They walk around to the front, but not before taking a glance at the ocean. It's a fair walk away, over the dunes and then across the sand. The moon is almost full; it casts a milky light across the inky ocean, light seeming to spill from every pore.
Then they're sneaking into the garage, because the gas station that houses Dairy Queen is too far to walk. Niall pulls his bike from where he leaned it against the outside of Zayn's house. It's a light blue beach cruiser, and Zayn thinks that it's literally Niall in bike form. Zayn just rides an old brown cruiser he found at the thrift store, back when he was becoming friends with Niall.
The before of it all was awkward conversations and sharing homework answers before class. Zayn had friends, sure, but not any best friends. This wasn't the reason he'd made an effort to get to know Niall, though. It was something impalpable, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The more they talked, the more they learned about each other. Like that Niall thought the Halloween Oreos were the best, or Zayn could recite every line from Back to the Future. Odd little tidbits that gave way to real friendship and mutual fondness for the other.
Niall bikes ahead of him now, the moonlight casting soft, creamy light across his face. A flasher blinks from the back of Niall's bike. Zayn remembers Niall telling him he bought one because of just how much he'd bike to Zayn's house in the middle of the night. It was the first time Zayn was aware that he and Niall had built a real, sturdy friendship.
They bike to the gas station with little said between them. Zayn is busy taking in the night sky, stars seeming to pour from every corner of the universe and settling in Ocean Isle. He hopes Niall's doing the same, just drinking in the magnificent show above them. Niall pulls into the lot first, setting his bike against the wall. Zayn follows suit.
"What're you gonna get?" Niall asks as they enter the DQ.
Zayn acts as if he's contemplating something. "Hm, I might try a hot fudge sundae. With peanuts."
"You're so predictable, Zayn," Niall laments, scanning his eyes over the menu. A tired looking teenager sits behind the main counter, her pink hair somewhat orange in the shitty lighting of the DQ. She looks up when the boys enter, trying to blink herself awake.
"What can I get for you guys?" she asks, pulling on some gloves.
Zayn tells her his order, and Niall opts for a blizzard. "Extra Oreos, please," he tells the cashier with an impish grin. She stares at him with a flat expression and then gets on making their desserts.
They plop down at a table, on separate sides. "Excited for school?" Zayn asks. He knows it's only the end of July, but it sort of feels impending and terrifying nonetheless.
"It's July, Zayn, why're we talking about school?" Niall picks up a straw from the metal container on their table, unwrapping it and fiddling with the paper. "It's sophomore year. Nothing's gonna happen."
"Not true. I'm turning sixteen in January. I can get my permit after that."
Niall snorts. "Zayn, I've biked on the boardwalk with you enough times to tell that you're going to be a total grandma when you drive."
"Better than riding around on shitty bikes in the middle of the night everywhere," says Zayn, his tone teasing.
Niall's face is serious but light when he says, "I like our little adventures."
The earnest, quiet revelation stirs something in Zayn's chest, but their orders are ready before he can reply. Niall and Zayn pay and thank the cashier before walking back out into the night. It's an average summer night in North Carolina. The air is somewhat humid but not soupy, and a warm breeze comes from the direction of the beach. They eat their snacks and walk their bikes back in the direction of Zayn's house.
Niall turns to him. "Beach?"
"Beach," Zayn confirms. He throws away his dish in a public trashcan. He hears slurping and then Niall follows suit, climbing back onto his bike.
"Race you!" Niall shouts petulantly, eyes sparkling in the dull light of the lampost they stand under. Zayn hears gleeful laughter as Niall pedals off, towards the beach.
Zayn bikes after him, not daring to get too reckless. Under the stars, with the lazy rising of the sun on their heels, Zayn feels like he has all the time in the world. They decide to bike to the main part of the beach, near the community center, rather than the small, sparser area that sits in front of Zayn's house. Zayn eventually catches up to Niall, and they bike through the rows of beach houses in comfortable silence. The only noises are the crunching of crushed seashells under their bike tires and the soft crashing of the waves.
When the scent of salt and warmness draws nearer and the boardwalk is in sight, they ditch their bikes at a bike rack and walk across the boardwalk. The sun has just started to rise, its tendrils of gold pulling back the inky twilight.
"I'm really glad we moved here," says Niall, pulling of his shoes so they can walk in the sand.
"Yeah, so 'm I," Zayn responds, ditching his shoes by the fence and padding across the sand. It gets rougher and wetter as they get closer to the tide, but this morning they stay on the soft, sun-warmed stuff.
Niall plops down on the spot of land he's picked. He sits, leaning back on his hands and enjoying the view. Niall turns and grins wide at Zayn, putting the just-rising sun to shame. He gestures to the other boy, jerking his head in the spot next to him.
So Zayn goes, crossing his legs and gazing out at the sea. "Do these sunrises ever get old?" he asks quietly, more to himself.
Niall shakes his head, loose blond hair falling into his eyes. It usually has product in it, but Zayn figures he can't be bothered to care over the summer. "It's weird. I've seen plenty of sunrises back in New York, and it was technically the same sun all along. They never looked this beautiful, though."
Zayn's sure there's some poetry to be written about what Niall just said, but he doesn't comment on it. Only watches the display of colors put on before them. Shades of fiery red and golden yellow set off the deep blue ocean.
A thought eats at the back of Zayn's mind. These soft, bright, wonderful moments are fleeting. They are fleeting and Zayn is living through it right now, and he never wants to leave. He wants to stay staring at the rising sun forever, with a shy blond boy at his side and the pitch darkness hours behind them.
Zayn also thinks that he's a little bit in love with his best friend. This is nothing new.
-
Seriously, it's nothing new. It's not some great, heartbreaking saga about how Zayn's strong, unrequited feelings have plagued him since the beginning of their friendship. The reality of it is that Zayn's always loved Niall and has known that he wants him in his life for as long as possible. And then Zayn just kept wanting to- to hug him, and then hold his hand. And then those pink, pink lips started looking really kissable and Zayn had a day of introspection.
This really meant locking himself in his room while listening to Daughter's The Wild Youth on repeat and staring at the ceiling until Niall came knocking at his window, ready for another day of adventure. (That afternoon they visited the alligator in the community pond, and Niall dropped his hat in the water. Zayn still remembers.)
And Niall didn't look different in Zayn's eyes. Zayn didn't see him in a sudden bath of golden light after his realization. Zayn saw Niall as, well, Niall: bright, happy, and just a touch shy around strangers. Nothing really changed. Which just made Zayn more aware of how oblivious he'd been throughout their friendship.
The day with the alligator was over spring break. It's nearing the middle of August now, and Zayn has absolutely no plans to tell Niall how he feels. Instead, he'll bottle his feelings up and throw them under his bed. Nothing in the universe is worth destroying their friendship.
Zayn's angsting in his room about his unrequited love, and is a second away from writing bad poetry when someone comes barreling into his room. It's not Niall this time but Luke, Aussie accent strong in the full on rant that he's giving Zayn.
Luke came into Zayn's life the summer before freshman year. It's some cultural exchange thing; he and a few other students from a private school in Australia are spending the first two years of their high school careers in America. Luke's host family lives a few rows back in a large beach house, close to other students part of the program.
Zayn's lost in thought when Luke turns to him, eyes wide. "Did you catch a word of what I just said?" he asks, flopping onto Zayn's bed.
Zayn turns around in his desk chair, wrinkling his nose. "I'm a dumb American, so no. You have to talk slower around me." He's only joking; anyone who's held a conversation with Ashton, Luke's friend, could probably hold a conversation with a kangaroo.
Luke just rolls his eyes. After a year of friendship around Luke and his Australian friends, Zayn finds that Luke remains unbothered ninety-nine percent of the time. Even he can withstand a conversation with Niall about golf. (Zayn can't. He loves his best friend to death, but at some point Niall started trailing off, gesturing with his hands and going, "Ya know?") The only person who can really piss Luke off is Michael, who lives in town with a different host family. Zayn's seen it in real time: Luke got so pissed he locked himself in his room for the afternoon. Zayn and Ashton had to chuck rocks at his window until he came down.
The point is, Luke is probably the most chill out of Zayn's friends, which is why he's been enlisted to help Zayn sort out his feelings. Louis would meddle, Harry's head-over-heels in love with love itself and that renders him useless, and Ashton would psychoanalyze him. And Niall- well, Zayn's pretty sure he's going to take his feelings for him to the grave.
Luke sits cross-legged on Zayn's bed, chin in his hand, wide blue eyes looking at Zayn intently. "So why am I here again?"
Zayn sighs, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. "You're here because I am facing Romeo-level pining and all of our other friends are assholes."
Luke shrugs. "Can't argue with that. I'm here because you're hopelessly in love with Niall, correct?" Luke asks, picking at a pull on his sock.
Zayn gapes at him. "You don't even know that I'm not straight."
Luke looks up, gesturing to Zayn's closet and walls. "Over half of your wardrobe are flannels and black jeans. You have a poster of The Neighborhood on your wall. Need I say more?"
Zayn stares at him. "Okay, those are just dumb stereotypes."
"Your jeans are cuffed." Zayn looks down, realizing he is a walking bisexual stereotype, however untrue they are. "Plus, whenever you look at Niall, it's like Cupid's shot you right in the ass ten times over."
Zayn wrinkles his nose at that. "I do not. And I'm not in love with him, maybe just infatuated."
"Maybe just infatuated..." Luke mutters to himself, rolling his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you're going through the five stages of grief."
"What would I even be grieving?'
Luke shrugs. "I dunno. Your buried feelings? Does that make sense? Oh, my phone's ringing," he says, fishing it out of his hoodie pocket.
Then Luke's face does something it rarely does: it lights up. He smiles like he's trying not to, hitting answer and eyeing Zayn. "Ash? What's up?" Some nodding, and then Luke's slipping on his shoes. "No! No, I can come over. You're not interrupting anything." Zayn gives him a what the hell? look, but Luke waves him off. "Alright, yeah. See you." Luke looks over with a sheepish smile, while Zayn gives him a suspicious look.
"You're ditching me."
Luke scoffs. "No! No, just... Ashton needed my help with something, and you know how he is..." Luke trails off, not meeting Zayn's eyes.
Zayn can smell the bullshit, but he lets it slide. Now Luke's cheeks are spreading with a dull blush, which is something Zayn could never happening, what the fuck? "Fine, whatever." Luke gives him another grin and slips out of Zayn's room, leaving Zayn throwing his own pity party.
He's laying on the floor with the lights off listening to Coldplay an hour later when someone else comes knocking at his door. This time it actually is Niall.
He doesn't say anything, just slips off his shoes and lays down so that his head is next to Zayn's but their bodies are pointing opposite ways. "Why're we laying on the floor?" he whispers.
Zayn stares at his fan. "I was having a fantastic time contemplating life and staring at my ceiling."
He feels, rather than sees, Niall's answering nod. His hair brushes against Zayn's. "Did I kill the mood?" Zayn can hear the smile in his voice.
"Nah. Always better when you're around." Zayn speaks matter-of-factly, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.
Niall just sighs contentedly, his pale cheeks puffing out. "Louis and Harry want us to go to the beach with them," he says, hands folded over his chest.
Zayn groans. "You know I hate the beach. Do we have to go?"
Niall grins, poking Zayn in the ribs. "You grumpus, you. It's Louis' friend Liam's birthday. We should go."
"Louis has friends other than us? How'd that happen?"
Niall snorts. "I've met Liam before, he works at the bookstore. Literally the nicest person ever."
Zayn covers his face with his hands. "Oh no, I hate happy people." Niall huffs, and Zayn rephrases. "You and Harry are exempt from the statement."
"As we should be. Seriously, get up, get your trunks on, we're going to the beach."
-
The sun is shining. Zayn is wearing primary colors. Whoop-de-freakin'-do.
Niall bikes alongside him, looking like a proper surfer with his loose tank top and board shorts, sunny hair slightly wavy from days spent in the ocean. It flops into his grinning face, the one he wears whenever they get close to the beach.
Zayn knows Niall loves the beach more than he loves most things. Zayn's found him, more than once, sitting by the water in a quieter spot, away from the splashing families and loud teens. He'll take a book and a snack, reading until it's too dark to see the pages. Then he'd walk up the beach and into Zayn's house for dinner. It all seemed quite domestic, and it made Zayn's heart pinch with something he couldn't name.
Although Zayn's house is literally a beach-front property, it seemed easier to bike a few miles to the main part of the beach, on the road, where Liam's having his get-together rather than weaving through the crowd of rainbow umbrellas and sandcastles. It's the middle of August, and lots of families fill the streets downtown. They crowd around the gourmet ice cream shops, popping in and out of various surf stores and seafood shacks. Zayn isn't the type of local who gets pissed at the hordes of tourists, like some other people he knows. These people were so excited to explore the new environment, it breathed life into Ocean Isle.
Niall veers into a mostly full lot, pulling his bike into the stands and gesturing for Zayn to hurry up. They secure the lock around it and head off to the beach, chatting about nothing at all. "Oh my God, Zayn, I really wish you liked reading," Niall laments, patting his hair down and setting a worn snapback down over top of it. "This book was literally amazing."
Zayn shrugs. "Reading books is so boring, though. Comics count, right?"
Niall snorts. Freckles dance across the bridge of his nose and his flushed cheeks. "I don't think it counts if there are a total of ten words on a single page." He continues rambling about his book, something about a wizard-dragon and a vampire falling in love.
Zayn's groaning, going, "Oh, so they kiss with fire surrounding them? That's so cliche." Niall's arguing back when a halo of poofy hair bounces into their view.
"Harry! Long time, no see," Zayn says. He and Harry became good friends when they took seventh grade health together. It wasn't a good time for anybody.
Harry smiles, the portrait of cheerfulness. "Yeah, yeah, it's been too long. How's your summer been?"
"Ah, you know, I'm a bit bored." Zayn scratches his jaw.
Harry nods. "How about you, Niall?" he asks lightly.
Niall, who shut up the moment Harry found them, speaks quietly. "Good," he says. "You?" he adds after a lengthy pause.
If Harry finds it odd, he doesn't show it. "Fantastic! My sister just got a cat, and she brought home for the summer. Her name's Dusty, she's so cute." They walk up the short boardwalk while Harry talks about cats, then music, then his new lacrosse stick. Zayn asks questions and talks as much as Harry does, but Niall stays quiet, nodding every now and then but keeping quiet.
Zayn knows it's just because Niall doesn't know Harry as well as Zayn does, and this is just how he is around new people. Sometimes Zayn wants to shake him by the shoulders and tell him that anybody who meets Niall has to adore him. How could they not? Zayn is privately convinced that Niall is the sun personified.
Niall does know Louis, though, and is soon sprawled on the ground after a flash of brown hair leaps at him.
"Niall! You left the house!" Louis shouts, dusting off his trunks and standing, beaming at Niall.
The blond boy squints up at the sun. "I think you broke my ribs," Niall says, as Zayn reaches out both hands and pulls him up.
Louis just sniffs, nose pointed up. "You haven't returned any of my calls. I Facetimed you, like, five times."
Zayn just grins. Louis' in drama; he's loud, loud, funny, and loud. It's probably why Niall's taken to him so nicely.
Niall rolls his eyes. "You called me five times in one sitting. At three in the morning." Zayn remembers this; Niall had slept over that night. They were having an Avenger's marathon, and Niall ended up putting his phone on silent and stuffing it in Zayn's closet.
Louis sighs. "Details, details. Lets go wish Liam happy birthday, shall we?"
Zayn knows Liam from US History last year, but they were only school friends. Liam sits cross-legged now on a beach blanket, chatting with Michael, who's a friend of Luke's. Ashton lays sprawled across the blanket next to him, legs kicked onto an annoyed-but-oddly-pleased Luke's lap. Luke mock-gasps when he sees Zayn, pushing up his Ray-Bans. "Oh my God, he's in the sunlight."
Zayn rolls his eyes, flipping him the bird. "You're one to talk. You're so pale you resemble a ghost." Luke sticks his tongue out at Zayn.
"I think that's more Niall, actually," Ashton pipes up.
Niall just grins. "Shut it, Irwin. At least I didn't have to be dragged out of my own pity party." He looks pointedly at Zayn.
Zayn opens his mouth to retort before Liam cuts in, grinning. "Zayn! Been awhile, how are you?"
"I've been good, yeah, you?"
Liam smiles, shrugs. "One year closer to getting my license."
"Oh, happy birthday," Zayn adds, gesturing to the cake that Ashton pulls out of a Target bag.
Niall nods. "Yeah, happy birthday, man," he says quietly, bobbing his head. He looks at Zayn, exuding awkwardness. Zayn knows Niall like the back of his hand; he's just nervous about meeting new people.
Liam, bless him, is probably the kindest person on earth. "Thanks, dude! You're Niall, right? I think we had orchestra together."
Since guitar isn't an actual course at their public school, Niall opted for playing the viola instead, when given the opportunity. He's actually very talented, although he'd never admit it. Zayn loves when Niall plays music for him.
Niall smiles, shy, and says, "Yeah. Poor Mrs. Yorke, I could never handle sixty kids at once."
Liam laughs. "Especially when they have string instruments!"
Niall beams, nods, and then Louis' tugging on his arm, pulling him towards the ocean. "It's literally a thousand degrees, Niall, come swim with me."
"Make Harry go in with you," Niall argues.
Harry, who was slathering a generous amount of sunscreen on his face, says, "Can't go in the ocean today. Skinned my knee skating, it'll hurt like hell if I get salt water in it."
Niall turns to Zayn. He doesn't even have to speak before Zayn says, "Fine, just no splashing."
"No promises!" he sings, beaming at Zayn and sending butterflies to his stomach. As if he can read Zayn's mind, Luke looks over and sends him a smug smirk. Zayn gives him a look he hopes says, Not a word, Hemmings. Luke sips his Cherry Coke innocently, giving him doe eyes.
Zayn's about to send him a withering glare when Niall's tugging on his arm, pulling him to the water. Zayn yanks his arm away and tugs off his tank top, then follows Niall's pasty figure to the shore. Louis' somehow already in the water, to his waist, diving in and out of the waves.
Niall runs straight in, weaving around the children and other families wading in the water. Zayn intends to follow right in when his toes hit the water, and mother of all things holy, it is frigid. Looks can be deceiving.
Zayn folds his arms around his middle, walking backwards. A blond head pops out of the ocean, and Niall's floating in the waves, the water hitting his chest. Louis floats near him, bouncing on his tiptoes. "Zayn! Hurry up," Niall calls to him, blond hair plastered to his forehead.
Zayn wrinkles his nose. "Are you guys, like, sea nymphs or something? It's cold!" he calls back.
Louis pulls a face. "What on earth is a sea nymph?"
"Y'know, like Thetis, Achilles'- it's not important. I'm not going in."
He can see Niall heave a sigh from land, and thinks the battle is over until he starts swimming towards land. "What? Niall- no-" Zayn starts, backing away slowly.
Niall reaches out, quick like a cat, and grabs hold of Zayn's hand. His skinny fingers wrap tightly around his wrist, and he sends Zayn a happy grin before dragging him out to sea. "It's so warm, I don't even know what you're talking about."
Zayn decides not to argue and instead braces himself when they get to the water, and, oh- it's not that bad once you get pretty submerged. (He's literally lived at the beach his whole life, he should know this by now.) Zayn still complains once more, just for facade. "We couldn't just go back to yours and swim?" he laments.
Something passes over Niall's face: a stormy, closed off look, which Zayn's only seen on him once. (Some redneck commented on Zayn's pride pin he kept on his jean jacket at the gas station, and Niall went off.) But it passes quickly, a mask of nonchalance settling on his features. "Nah, my parents don't really want people over right now. With the house being redone and all."
Zayn racks his brain for mentions of Niall's house getting renovated, but he can't remember them ever talking about it. He decides not to dwell on it, though, and says, "Ah, alright. Guess we'll just have to cool down in here." Zayn feels something slick and slimy brush against his calf, and nearly throws up. "Holy shit, what was that?" he screeches, his voice pitching oddly.
Niall's face is back to being sunny and open. He cracks up, the sound of his laughs reaching where Louis' floating a few meters away. "What's so funny?" he asks, head bobbing just barely above the soft waves.
"Zayn stepped on some seaweed," Niall says. Zayn notices that Niall hasn't let go of his wrist- he still has a loose hold on it, floating in the ocean -and decides not to overthink it.
Louis cackles. Bastard. "Bet you wanna run right out of the ocean now, Zaynie," he says, a smug grin on his face.
Zayn scowls. "You're a dumbass."
Louis just smiles innocently at him.
-
When Louis decides he's cooled down enough and drags a drenched Niall and a waterlogged Zayn out of the water, the group decide to sing happy birthday and cut the cake. Harry, who was in charge of the food, whips out a delicately frosted cake with piped roses and a swirly "Happy Birthday Liam!" written in swooping red frosting.
("Wow, Harry, I didn't know you could bake."
"I used to work in a bakery.")
Zayn's sitting cross legged on the beach blanket next to a drowsy, sun-soaked Niall. "Do you ever wish you could, like, freeze moments? Live in them forever?"
"Yeah. All the time," Zayn replies, picking at his cake. "What, you want to live in this one forever?"
Niall rolls his eyes, punching Zayn lightly on the leg. "You'd probably call me cliche, Mr. Cynical."
Zayn laughs. "No, I actually agree with you on this one. Like, it is ridiculously cliche, but I can deal with it." He looks over at Niall, head tipped back, eyes closed. He's bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon, and Zayn knows how he feels. He'd live in this minute forever. Niall would accuse him of being a sap if he voiced these thoughts, so instead he says, "Have you applied sunblock in the past hour?"
Niall grins. "Yes, Mom," he replies, opening those navy eyes and swatting at Zayn's leg.
"Hey, you're gonna thank me when you're sixty and have nice skin because I kept telling you to apply sunblock."
"You're gonna keep in touch with me while we're sixty?" Niall asks, his tone light.
Something about the question pangs in Zayn's chest. "Duh. You and I are going to move to New York City or something, and you'll be an American literature professor, and I'm going to nag you forever about sunblock."
"Well. I won't do anything to stop you," comes Niall's reply, tipping his head and smiling softly. It's so adorable Zayn nearly forgets his own damn name.
Zayn smirks. "Even when I'm dead. I'll haunt you from the grave," he says, wiggling his fingers in a creepy motion.
Niall laughs. "Again, I won't stop you." He thinks for a second, a pensive look taking over his face. "Hey, you're not allowed to die before me, alright?"
Zayn opens his mouth to protest when Luke ambles over, tripping on thin air. Niall giggles, and Luke flips him the bird. "Are you guys talking about death?" he asks, stretching out on his back with his hands tucked behind his head.
Harry, who was sitting a few feet away and only seemed to be half-listening to Louis' rambling, chimed in: "Perfect conversation for a beach day, right?"
Niall shrugs, looking down at the sand. "I was making Zayn promise he'd die after me."
Harry cocks an eyebrow. "And what does Zayn think about this?"
"Zayn thinks that Niall is having an existential crisis and needs to chill with binge-watching The Good Place," Zayn says, fully aware he's talking in the third person.
Harry makes an indignant squawking noise at that. "Hey, I love The Good Place. What do you have against Ted Danson?" Zayn notices Niall smile quietly at the ground, where he's tracing nonsensical doodles into the sand.
"Nothing, nothing." Zayn looks around at their little gathering; Michael and Ashton are bent over what looks to be a Magic the Gathering card set; Zayn makes a mental note to rib them about it later. The birthday boy himself is being dragged into the ocean, by Louis. Zayn is not surprised.
Harry flounces back off to chatter aimlessly at the others, and Zayn nudges Niall in the ankle. "You wanna walk into town and get ice cream? It's getting kind of late."
Niall, who Zayn knows like the back of his hand, deflates. A flash of relief washes over his face, and he nods.
They pack up their belongings, shoving sunscreen and towels into Zayn's backpack, and bid farewell to the others. "It's only four. You know you guys are welcome to stay," says Liam, nose previously buried in a book. His voice is nothing if not kind.
"I've actually got to bike my sister over to her friend's," Zayn says apologetically. He can feel Niall fidgeting behind him. "Well, we're off."
"Shoot me a text and we'll go to the driving range, yeah, Louis?" Niall says quietly.
Louis' head pops up from where he'd been sprawled out on his towel. "For sure," he says, beaming.
Zayn and Niall walk across the beach, a comfortable silence sitting between them. They rinse their sandy limbs and climb on their bikes, riding into town. Zayn can feel the random bits of sand and scattered pebbles crunching under his tires, can feel the sun warming his face.
Zayn glances over at Niall, face tilted up to meet the sun. "Hey," he says loudly, over the noise of traffic and chattering families. "Why'd you say that I wasn't allowed to die before you, earlier on the beach?"
"Because I'm not attending your funeral," says Niall, not bothering to look over. He says it simply, as if Zayn should know automatically.
"Why? You'd make sure they have a great playlist. Heaven knows Saf would play Beiber or something."
"I love Beiber. It's like you don't even know me sometimes."
Zayn laughs with his head thrown back, because it's a nice day, and he's next to his best friend who he may or may not be in love with, and that's totally fine.
Life doesn't get much better than this.
-
Rainy days are something Zayn absolutely adores. The sky is gray, and his mother doesn't nag him about going to the beach or the park. This means that Zayn can lounge around his room and do virtually nothing.
Except for this rainy day in particular. The sky seems to be on the verge of falling down, and a rain-soaked and sopping Niall collapses into Zayn's spinning desk chair.
"Uh- hi?" Zayn greets from where he was previously digging through his closet, organizing his comic books.
Niall's hair is dripping into his eyes, and he sweeps it off his forehead. "I'm bored," he says, peeling off his hoodie and draping it over the back of Zayn's chair.
"That's lovely. Did you have to bike all the way here to tell me that?"
"You jerk," retorts Niall, no bite behind his words. "I want to go to the library."
Zayn gestures to his stacks of comic book, organized by fictional universe. "I had big plans today. Plus, I'm reading already, aren't I?"
Niall throws his hands into the air, shouting, "My best friend likes comic books more than he likes me!" to the ceiling.
If only you knew, Zayn thinks ruefully, but instead says, "Five more minutes? I'll put these away and then we can go."
Niall slides out of the chair, the horrid jean cutoffs he's wearing today soaked all the way through. "Can you lend me some pants? And maybe a cup of hot chocolate?" Niall asks hopefully, gesturing to his sopping wet hoodie.
"'course, my joggers are in the-"
"Drawer second to the top, Zayn, I know," Niall cuts in, already rooting through his clothes.
Zayn sighs, tucking his comic books into their respectable shelves. "You might as well just live here."
"I know, I really should." Niall skips to the bathroom, presumably to change, and Zayn can hear him throwing his shorts into the hamper.
There's footsteps walking down stairs, and Zayn's mom goes, "Tea? Of course, hon, you don't even need to ask."
Zayn rolls his eyes. There's a reasonably good chance that his mother loves Niall more than she loves him.
He throws on a windbreaker and steps into his Converse, walking into the kitchen to the sight of Niall and his mother sitting at the island, chatting over mugs of tea. Zayn digs out an umbrella from the coat rack, slips on his shoes. "You ready to go, or do you want to hear more of my mother's work gossip?"
Niall makes an affronted noise. "I'll have you know that I find the drama of a small town nursing facility extremely fascinating."
"You're so weird." Zayn waves to the door. "Coming?"
"You're not biking in that weather, are you?" Zayn's mother asks, eyes shooting daggers at Zayn.
Zayn resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, mother, I have no common sense and want Niall and I to get killed."
Zayn's mother sends a smile that says what can you do? at Niall, and Niall shakes his head and shrugs.
"Okay, we're leaving now," announced Zayn, grabbing Niall's wrist and dragging him out the door. They stand on the porch while Zayn opens the umbrella, then crowd underneath it and start the walk to the library.
"Your mom said you were interested in a fine arts school?" Niall says offhandedly, as they begin the walk down to the library.
Zayn shrugs. "There's still another year until I have to get serious about college," he says, stepping in a puddle and watching it splash. "You know drawing and painting are just hobbies of mine, but my parents want me to get serious about it."
Niall's watching him with a strange look in his eyes, something akin to wonder. "Zayn, I can't even draw a straight line without a ruler. You're really talented, admit it or not."
"I don't think sketching you on napkins at the diner really counts as talent."
"Hey, I like my napkin portraits, thank you very much," Niall says, laughing. "You'd be the perfect art student. All moody and angsty."
Zayn shoots Niall a What's that supposed to mean? look, and Niall shrugs.
"You're always brooding and sulking. Like, if you were a color, you'd be gray."
"What a harsh thing to say to an artist," says Zayn, no hurt in his tone. "And who are you to stereotype me as an art student, Mr. 'All Irish People Aren't Loud and Like Beer.'"
Niall sniffs primly, turning his nose up to the stormy sky. "When I say all I mean me. You're lucky I haven't taken you to a Horan family reunion."
Zayn shrugs, says, "You and I would probably just sit in the corner and read or something."
"This is why I can't take you anywhere," Niall replies, a happy smile playing on his lips.
Although Zayn loves the light atmosphere hanging around them, there's something he couldn't get out of his head. (No, it's not his stupid crush on Niall, he'd come to terms with that ages ago.)
"Hey, Ni?"
"Hey, Zayn?" Niall replies, stepping in a particularly large puddle and soaking the tip of his Converse.
"Remember the other day, at the beach? When I asked if we could go back to yours?"
Niall nods, waiting for Zayn to go on.
"Are you guys really having renovations? I know it's none of my business but I don't remember you ever mentioning it, and I'm really sorry if I'm overstepping, I just-"
"Zayn! It's fine," Niall cuts him off, a soft smile playing on his lips. It disappears quickly, his eyes getting unfocused and closed off. "There's not much to it. My parents have just been fighting a lot lately."
Anytime Zayn has seen Bobby and Maura, they seemed in love and happy to be together. Didn't they just take that trip to New York?
"Oh, Niall, I'm sorry. I had no idea," Zayn says carefully, as they stroll up to the library.
Niall flashes him a smile, once again at full brightness. "Parents fight, it's fine. Just didn't want you to see that."
Zayn poked Niall in the side, earning a laugh from the other boy. "Tell you what: feel free to come over to mine whenever they're too loud. Sneak in my window or something."
"Oh, Zaynie," Niall laments, "how did I get so lucky with you?"
I'm the lucky one, Zayn wants to say. You have no idea.
-
Zayn has always felt the most at peace when in the pitch dark, listening to music and staring at his ceiling. He feels in control of everything, feels like life can slow down for a of couple minutes and he can just be.
This is where Zayn is tonight, earbuds in and playing an Orangutang album. He feels the tendrils of sleep nudging him, and is halfway there before a rapping at his window startles him awake.
Flipping his duvet back and pulling on a shirt, Zayn pads over to the window to find a pair of wide blue eyes looking back at him. Zayn gets a strong wave of deja vu, back to the night he and Niall went to Dairy Queen and the beach.
Unlatching the window and pushing it up, Niall crawls through, clad in flannel pajama pants and a worn t-shirt. "Hi," he whispers, voice rough. Zayn notices his red-rimmed eyes, but decides to not push anything.
"Hey," Zayn says back, locking his window and sitting on his bedroom floor, where Niall has collapsed. "What's up?"
"Oh, you know. My parents are having a right row." Niall sighs, lines of exhaustion engraved in his pale face. "It always starts with something small, you know? Like, my mom forgets to thaw the chicken for dinner. And all of a sudden they're screaming about how my dad works too much and Greg and I need a stable father figure."
Zayn feels helpless, feels like saying I'm sorry won't suffice. "You know I'm here, Ni," he says softly, giving Niall's hand a quick squeeze. He moves to pull his hand back, but Niall catches it, entwining their fingers.
And that's- well. Now is not the time to dwell on that.
"You want to watch a movie or something?" Zayn offers, wanting to take Niall's mind off of whatever's going on at home.
Niall smiles, sad and sleepy. "D'you think we could just go to bed, actually? I'm fucking wiped." He gives Zayn's hand a final squeeze before letting go and closing his eyes.
"Of course," Zayn says, already leaving to get the air mattress. When he goes to step out of his bedroom and into the hall closet, however Niall's voice pipes up from behind him.
"Can we just- we could just share your bed."
Zayn thinks his heart has stopped. He can feel the blood rushing to his face, but he turns around, eyes wide and face (hopefully) unassuming. "As long as you're okay with it. You know I toss in my sleep."
But Niall's already getting up off of the floor and crawling into Zayn's bed, all the way over to the side nearest to the wall. He buries himself in the duvet, until all that's visible is his nose and a shock of blond hair falling into blue irises. "Just c'mere, Zayn," he orders, drowsiness making his words soft and sleepy.
And, well. Zayn could never really say no to Niall.
Zayn follows suit, and then they're face-to-face, not touching, but close enough that Niall can reach out and pinch Zayn's side. "Thank you," he whispers, "for being here."
The late hour of the night and the weight that's seemingly settled on Zayn's shoulders suddenly remind him of how exhausted he is, and he knows he has to watch what he says. This is most certainly not the time for big revelations. So Zayn just sends him what he hopes is a warm smile, and says, "No need to thank me."
Niall seems to radiate warmth from him, and Zayn drifts off feeling like he's laying in the sun.
-
A pale arm thrown across Zayn's waist, scrawny wrist resting just inches away from his. Lithe legs tangled with Zayn's. The steady rise and fall of a chest pressed behind his back.
This is what Zayn wakes to the next morning. He tries not to panic.
Although Zayn has no clue of what exactly to do in this particular situation, he does know Niall sleeps like the dead. (Niall once passed out on the entire three hour car trip to the lake with Zayn's entire family in the car. Zayn has no idea how he didn't wake up to the sound of Safaa and Doniya fighting over the snacks.) With this information, he gently disentangles himself from Niall, making sure to replace the duvet over Niall's sleeping form without a sound.
The clock in the hallway reads just after 10:00. Zayn thanks the powers that be that his mother let them sleep in today, seemingly abandoning her strict "out of bed at 9:30" rule. God knows Niall needs some rest.
Padding into the kitchen, he sees a note from his mother stuck to the refrigerator, informing her children that Safaa had an early lacrosse game and she had to leave at an ungodly time to bring her. He also sees Doniya at the stove, scrambling eggs. She turns when Zayn enters, pulling a face.
"Mom let you sleep in today," she says, stating the obvious. "I can't remember the last time she let me break the 9:30 rule."
Zayn sighs, too overwhelmed from sharing a bed with Niall the previous night to come up with a clever response. He just mumbles, "Niall's over," and goes about pouring himself a bowl of cereal.
Doniya seems to be in an interrogating mood, as the explanation seems not to suffice for her. "What does that have to do with anything? Mom's just about adopted Niall. The rule applies to him." She tilts her head at Zayn, in a what's your next excuse going to be? manner.
Spoonful of off-brand Frosted Flakes on their way to Zayn's mouth, he goes to answer with something about a history project.
Zayn supposes he should start drinking coffee, because the history project comes out as, "His parents are fighting and he snuck in during the night and I let him stay because I'm in love with him."
Zayn visibly winces when he processes what he said.
To Doniya's credit, she looks bored, if anything. As if Zayn's confession was something as mundane as the weather. "Is this supposed to be news to me?" she asks, stirring the eggs.
Spoon back in his bowl and cereal long forgotten, Zayn stares at his older sister, trying to find the sarcasm in her tone. He does not succeed. "Uh... what?" Zayn says, eloquently.
"You should see yourself in the mirror when he's around. It's like your teen angst bullshit clears instantly if you're within a twenty feet radius of Niall."
A chorus of oh, fucking shit is repeating itself around Zayn's head. "I'm not that obvious," he says to his corn flakes.
"Yeah, you are," Doniya says. She gesticulates with the spatula in her hand, pointing it at Zayn. "You are a hopeless romantic, I'm sure of it. You ever gonna do anything about it?"
"Sometime in the next millennia," Zayn says vaguely, as the idea of ever confessing his feelings make him want to change his identity and move to Mexico.
Doniya's muttering something about pining and Zayn being pathetic when Niall wanders in, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. "Couldn't believe it when I looked at the clock," he says in lieu of a greeting. "I actually feel somewhat well-rested."
Zayn's shooting daggers at his older sister, daring her to make a sly remark to Niall. She ends up just turning around, shooting him a smile. "Mom's getting soft. I think you're her favorite child," says Doniya, nodding towards Niall. "Eggs?"
"Is that even a question?" Niall retorts, grabbing a paper plate and scooping an ungodly amount of food onto it. He also pops two pieces of toast in the toaster oven, and then rummages around for sugar and cinnamon.
"Top left cabinet," Zayn says, knowing Niall's food habits like the back of his hand.
"Thanks, Zaynie," Niall calls back, head in the refrigerator now. Doniya snorts at the scene and walks out of the kitchen, mouthing a tell him at Zayn.
Zayn flips her the bird.
"I'm sorry about last night." Niall's voice is quiet, and his eyes don't meet Zayn's as he closes the fridge and pours himself a glass of orange.
Zayn pokes Niall in the side, eliciting a laugh out of the other boy. "Don't be sorry," says Zayn, buttering a piece of Niall's toast and sprinkling some cinnamon sugar on top. "I meant it when I said you could come by any time."
The blond boy plops down on a stool next to Zayn, now munching on his breakfast. "It was just too much. I felt trapped."
It hurts Zayn's heart to hear Niall speak those words. It's as if his heart has blackened and his body is falling, falling, falling.
Of course Niall's not sunshine and smiles all the time. He has layers. Everybody does. He cries when he's stressed and gets upset when he's alone in large crowds and loses his temper when he's deprived of sleep. Zayn has seen it all. But this- this is new. Niall should never feel trapped. He should be free.
"Thank you for leaving," Zayn says, instead of declaring that Niall deserves the sun and the stars and everything in between. "Thank you for coming here." Thank you for trusting me with all this.
Niall gives Zayn a soft smile that goes straight to his heart. A pale hand reaches out and squeezes Zayn's, the warmth lingering for a fleeting moment. The air feels comfortable, like they could live in this second forever and be content.
Niall shatters the silence when he speaks. "So, you wanna go to the beach?"
-
Zayn can't remember the last time he actually wanted to go to the beach. So no, Zayn does not want to go to the beach. However, he does want to pull Niall out of this hole his family problems have dug him in, and therefore says yes, he'd love to go to the beach.
The way Niall's eyes widen the minute Zayn responds makes him think that maybe Niall knows he's bluffing, but it's a beautiful day, and Zayn has plenty of comic books to work his way through.
So they're off, and choose to bike around to the main part of the beach instead of the sparse area in front of Zayn's house. He supposes Niall wants to be surrounded by people, wants to get caught up in other peoples' lives for a few hours.
The sun seems insistent on burning a hole in Ocean Isle, and all of the clouds seem to be clustered in another corner of the universe. Zayn thanks the gods every day for his dark complexion, which is in stark contrast to Niall's. Before they left Zayn's house, he had hovered over Niall and rubbed sunscreen on his nose like a proper mother. Niall made sure to tease him about it for the entire bike ride.
Now they're sprawled out on beach towels, the once bright print faded from overuse. Niall's on his back, Ray-Bans on and blond hair ruffled. He's squinting up at a book, sun blocked-nose wrinkled, and Zayn is stupidly in love with him.
Speaking of stupid, Zayn is interrupted from his own activity (he'd been lazily sketching the scene before them in graphite) when the one and only Luke Hemmings strides up to them, with Louis in tow.
Zayn thought this was the beach, not hell. Is this what purgatory looks like?
"Fancy seeing you here," says Luke, sitting down next to Zayn and digging through the cooler Zayn packed. He pulls out a Pepsi, and Zayn fights the urge to reach out and shake it like a little shit.
"I'm lifeguarding this summer," Louis explains, coming to plop down cross legged next to an unbothered Niall. "Luke found me on my lunch break."
"Why're you here, though? I thought you couldn't stand the beach," Zayn says warily. This is a fact of life; Luke hates the beach even more than Zayn does, which is saying something.
"Ah! Well, you know, it's a nice day and all... and- I wanted... to see you guys..?"
Luke's stuttering caught the attention of Niall, who set his book down with a dog-eared corner. "Lucas Hemmings, are you seeing someone?" Niall grinned with mirth in his eyes.
At this, Luke's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he shook his head vehemently. "No! Of course not!"
Zayn knew a bluff when he saw one (hello, he was in love with his best friend who he spent all of his time with) but decided not to pry. Poor Luke chewing on his lip now, and Louis was conferring with Niall, muttering in a low voice.
What the fuck was even happening anymore?
Besides the fact that Zayn has no fucking idea what was going on, it feels nice to be caught up in someone else's drama for a little while, to forget about Niall's family problems for a while and indulge in some useless teenage gossip. Zayn could tell Niall felt the same way, saw that his smile reached his eyes and the line of his shoulders was no longer tense and straight.
Sometimes the sun is the best cure for a hurting heart.
Of course, Louis opens his mouth and fucking ruins it. "So, Nialler, what's going on with you and Jesy?"
Niall, who had previously been drawing nonsensical squiggles in the sand, is gaping at Louis, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "We just- we went out a couple times, is all."
It feels as though something has fallen from a tall height in Zayn's chest. He didn't even know that Niall knew Jesy, who's an acquaintance of Zayn's from geometry class. Louis, oblivious as ever, continues with his interrogation. "I was with Jade the other day, and I guess Jesy can't shut up about Niall. She has a massive crush on you, dude."
Luke, actually using his brain for once and putting two and two together as to why Zayn's shooting him panicked looks, changes the subject. "Jade? Are you seeing someone, Louis?"
All the while Niall is staring down at the sand, upset. Zayn's torn between kicking something and dragging him away from the beach, demanding to know what the hell went on between him and Jesy, and why he never knew.
Niall and Zayn discussed relationship stuff. All best friends did. However, it had been a while since Niall had showed any interest in a girl. (Zayn isn't one to assume peoples' sexualities, but Niall has never even alluded to not being straight.) Because of this, it shocks Zayn to know that Niall has been keeping something from him.
It also hurts. It hurts that Zayn can be trusted with family problems but not some teenage crush.
While Louis and Ashton squabble, now bickering over whether Liam will get a partner before Louis, Zayn finally spared a glance at Niall. The blond boy is already looking at Zayn, something like wistfulness in his eyes. When their eyes meet, something like guilt flickers in Niall's expression.
However much Zayn would like to stomp away, declaring that he's Niall's best friend and has a right to know these things before they happen, he thinks about the morning. How Niall said he felt trapped. How Zayn had woken up in Niall's arms.
In the grand scheme of things, Niall could have a girlfriend. He could be happy and carefree and not worry about his parents fighting and Zayn would be the best friend Niall needed him to be.
And they'd all go on okay.
Zayn is going to be whatever Niall needs him to he. If that's a totally platonic best friend, then so be it.
-
Zayn's resolve is crushed and burned to hell on a particularly clear Sunday night. The stars are out, and the moon is a waning gibbous, casting milky light out onto Niall's roof and making everything below look ethereal.
This is one of the rare nights that Zayn is at Niall's house, instead of the latter at Zayn's. The Horans seem to trying their best to get along with Zayn in their presence, which he finds bizarre and uncomfortable. All throughout dinner, Niall had knocked his foot into Zayn's ankle whenever Maura shot Bobby a passive aggressive comment. It felt like an unspoken apology.
It also made Zayn count to ten in his head and remember all of the reasons he's given up having a crush on Niall. Of course, feelings don't go away overnight. They float into the corners of your soul like dust, and the tiniest particles never really leave your heart.
However, Zayn has made a valiant effort to avoid looking at Niall's toned back when they're at the beach, or remind himself to avert his gaze whenever he catches himself staring at Niall's thin wrists. Is it hard? Extremely. Will Zayn spend any less time with Niall than he had before? Absolutely not.
Which is how Zayn finds himself on Niall's roof, after crawling out of his window with blankets and pillows. The night is clear enough to see clusters of stars, and they reflect in Niall's eyes.
Zayn is falling, falling, falling, and he's trying to reel himself in before he gets pulled into a black hole. It's difficult, though, when Niall is sitting right next to him. Niall laughs like he has sunshine flowing through his veins and the corners of his eyes get all crinkly when he smiles at Zayn and really, it's as if the universe is out to get Zayn.
"Hey, Zayn?" Niall's soft voice breaks the comfortable silence between them.
"What's up?" Zayn asks, turning towards Niall. He tries to school his expression into one of nonchalance, like he wasn't just waxing poetic about his laugh.
"You remember the other day, at the beach? When Louis brought up Jesy?"
Oh, does he mean when Zayn decided to put aside his pathetic feelings for his best friend because their friendship was too valuable? He vaguely remembers.
"Yeah, I do."
Niall looks down at the blanket spread in his lap, courtesy of Maura Horan and her Target obsession. He twists his fingers in the tassels that line the side, eyes not meeting Zayn's. "We're not... me and Jesy aren't dating, or anything. Like, she isn't my girlfriend."
Oh. Okay. Zayn's heart has set off in a frenzy at this information, but he manages to get out an, "oh?"
Niall's chewing on his lip, hands restless. "Yeah. Like, she's nice and all, just liked her as a friend."
This clarification gives Zayn the courage to look Niall right in the eye and ask, "why didn't you tell me? Even if it didn't work out?"
To Niall's credit, he doesn't look fazed by the question at all. "It feels weird, discussing my love life with you," he says, his tone not negative. "I have no idea why. But, like, it's always felt strange."
Niall's looking at him, eyes telling Zayn that he hopes Zayn understands what Niall's trying to say.
And for the record: Zayn has no idea what Niall's trying to convey. He doesn't know how to take it, in a way that's completely platonic and friendly. So Zayn settles for what he does in times of awkward silences: cracks a joke and lands it with an easy smile. "Well, I don't blame Jesy for things not working out. She was probably sick of hearing you play Bieber on acoustic."
Niall squawks, shoving Zayn in the shoulder. "Don't lie, Zayn, you love my cover of Boyfriend."
"People also love cocaine, doesn't mean it's good for them."
They bicker, and they laugh, and it all feels like before Zayn fell in love. He revels in the feeling. It's as if his airways have been steadily filling with water; each smile on Niall's face and the laughs that startle the people around them are like tidal waves. But when it's just them, Zayn's okay. He can smile and know it reaches his eyes, know it's because Niall is his best friend in the entire universe.
He wouldn't give up anything to take that for granted.
But- but, they're just a handful of words away from being more than friends. Zayn has been toeing this line for what feels like an eternity. The what if's of it all press heavy on his mind, on his head, on his shoulders. Niall could feel the same way, or Niall could never look Zayn in the eye again.
It's risky and it's sacrificing the old normal Zayn feels surrounding him, but perhaps he doesn't want the old normal again.
Niall's head is tipped back on the windowpane, babbling about something funny Louis texted him. His eyes are blue, blue, blue, and if Zayn looks close enough there are splotches of greenish yellow at the center. The moonlight paints his cheeks in a shade akin to porcelain.
Zayn feels like his heart is about to fall out of his chest. He clears his throat, shifts to face Niall, blanket sitting loosely in his lap. "Hey, Niall?" he says softly, and all of Niall's fidgeting attention is turned on Zayn.
"Hey, Zayn?"
"So, um," Zayn beings eloquently, not finding himself able to look Niall completely in the eye, "I've been... thinking, lately."
When Zayn pauses, searching his head for words and coming up clean, he chances a glance at Niall. The other boy has his duvet wrapped around his narrow shoulders, and his head is tipped ever so slightly to the side. He smiles softly, says, "Risky, that."
Zayn chuckles. His eyes find his hands, twisted and fidgeting in his lap. "Yeah. It is, isn't it? Anyway," Zayn says, and he needs to pick up the pace, needs to get the words out before they can become lost in fear or anxiety. He's mulling it over until, his mouth speaking on its own accord, he blurts, "Sometimes it hurts to look at you."
Zayn glances up again. Niall's eyebrows furrow slightly. He's not angry, not mad, Zayn can see it in his eyes. He just looks confused. Zayn takes Niall's lack of words between them to continue.
"Sometimes, when you're all lit up, it's hard to look at you and not fall a little bit in love," Zayn whispers, finally meeting Niall's eyes. "You walk into rooms beaming and your laugh is more contagious than the flu and really, Niall, how could I not fall in love with you?"
Niall looks floored. He's opening and closing his mouth, but no words come out. His eyes are a bit glassy, and Zayn hopes that it's not because he's upset.
"And I'm sorry," Zayn continues, when the stretch of silence between them has almost grown unbearable. "I didn't mean to."
And then Niall, the little shit, starts to laugh. It's wet and teary and his smile is a bit wobbly, but his eyes are crinkled at the sides and impossibly blue in the twilight. "Oh, Zayn," he says, nose crinkling. A hand finds the back of Zayn's neck, gentle and warm, and before Zayn knows it, Niall's lips are pressed to his.
It's nothing more than a chaste kiss, but everything Niall needs to say is displayed there, loud and clear. They pull back at the same time, still in each other's space. "No need to apologize, you idiot," Niall says, no bite in his voice. "I love you. I'm in love with you."
Zayn thinks his heart is going to jump out of his chest and begin doing cartwheels. His mind is playing through every romantic comedy cliche he can think of, and somewhere in the back, there's a Taylor Swift song. But right before his eyes, well, there's a boy with blond hair and blue eyes and a smile that could light an entire planet.
Zayn tangles their fingers together, says, "Took us long enough, huh?" and Niall's resounding laugh is something he could listen to every day and never get sick of.
They spend the rest of the night stealing sweet kisses on the roof and prodding the other about details. Allegedly, Niall had an epiphany about his feelings for Zayn at the beginning of the summer. He had not locked himself in his room and had a crisis, but rather locked his feelings away in a box labeled "Things Niall Horan Cannot Dare to Hope For." However, both boys agree that it was pointless to try and block their feelings out.
They're an inevitability. Always will be.
-
Having a boyfriend is pretty cool, Zayn thinks, but when he's your best friend, it's a hundred times cooler.
They fall into a rhythm easily during the last month of the summer. Things start to piece themselves together, through new experiences and old routines.
Zayn's mother was absolutely ecstatic to hear that this boyfriend of Zayn's is Niall. She'd reminded Niall over and over that he's like a second son to her, and that she's supportive of their relationship, friendship, whatever it is between them.
Doniya, on the other hand, had snuck into the room when Zayn and Niall sat down with Trisha and delivered the news. She'd sipped from her glass of water, rolled her eyes and said, "About time!" but left the room with a smile.
Zayn hates and loves her fiercely.
Niall, on the other hand, isn't out to his parents yet. Zayn has reassured him billions of times that it's okay, no need to rush things, they can take their time. And some days it wears on Niall, Zayn can tell by the set of his shoulders and the tiredness in his eyes. On those days, they'll sprawl out on the couch, limbs tangled together and hands in hair, and watch some shitty Netflix comedy special.
They're so familiar with each other that it doesn't feel like very much has changed, and yet everything has. Luke Hemmings, the fucker, had the smuggest grin on his face when Zayn and Niall showed up to their spot on the beach holding hands. Zayn flipped him the bird, but Luke just patted him on the back and gave him a sincere, "I'm happy for you, man." It's probably the most genuine thing Zayn has ever heard come from Luke's mouth.
Zayn gets an overwhelming wave of deja-vu when someone raps at his bedroom window, crawling through before Zayn has even opened his other eye.
It is the weekend before sophomore year, and Niall spent the entire week with his dad. After Niall's parents decided to legally split, his dad moved to an apartment inland. Niall's happier now, without the fighting and the yelling. The dark circles under his eyes are not so prominent anymore.
"...and then freaking Greg nearly lights the kitchen on fire. Don't let him ever cook, Zayn," Niall chatters away, not bothering to close Zayn's window. He collapses right on Zayn's bed, and they sit side by side, backs against the wall and legs tangled in front of them.
"Missed you," Zayn says, voice rough with sleep.
"Oh, did you, now?" Niall grins, pillows his head on Zayn's shoulder. They had texted and FaceTimed sporadically throughout the week, but it never compensated for Niall's actual presence. Now, Zayn grabs Niall's hand and twines their fingers, an action that's become natural over the past month.
"Nah, not really," Zayn teases. He can feel Niall's smile. The other boy's eyes are drooping, and Zayn nudges him in the ankle with a foot. "Hey, don't fall asleep. Remember what my mom said about sleepovers?"
Niall outright laughs at this, despite the late hour. "No deflowering yet, right, Mr. Malik?"
Zayn groans, burying his face in his pillow. "You're a dork."
"You like me," Niall reminds him, chin propped on Zayn's shoulder.
"Shut up," is Zayn's eloquent response. He has to remind himself to stay awake, even though the weight of Niall is slowly but surely luring him to sleep.
Niall lifts his head, smiles that heart crushing smile, and says, "So. You wanna go to Dairy Queen?"
And Zayn has never been good at saying no to Niall.