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It was hot. It was so fucking hot.
They were halfway through the US leg of the tour. It was the middle of summer, it was hot, the AC had crapped out on the tour bus, and Niall couldn’t for the life of him remember the last time he’d had a decent hug, and he was starting to get a bit jittery about it.
It felt like a burning under his skin, always there, always making him feel on edge; a physical sensation at the back of his teeth, causing him to flinch away from anyone who gets too close. He couldn’t really understand it - he was aching for the proximity of another body, for the sensation of skin against skin - but it was almost like that desperation had led to the very cure to his famished state becoming the cause of his pain. Even the slightest brush of a hand against his arm caused him to whimper under his breath, fighting against the cry that wanted to escape.
He could just about keep quiet for the group hug before they went onstage, but the night before, he’d pulled back quickly with a quiet whine, and Zayn had definitely noticed, if the concerned frown was anything to go by.
Niall knew he needed to do something, and soon, before he ended up really ill (google had been his friend and told him all about the problems associated with touch starvation, which appeared to be exactly what he was going through).
As they all climbed onto the bus following the Dallas gig, Niall barely said a word before he climbed into his bunk and firmly pulled the curtains shut around him, curling up against the wall and shuddering repeatedly. He fumbled for his headphones, tugging them over his ears and flicking on his iPod, finding his favourite Eagles album to try and soothe him. Hugging himself tightly, he let out low whimpers into his pillow as waves of pain rattled through him.
He felt the bus start up and begin to rumble its way through the city, making its way out to the highway towards Denver for the next gig, due to start less than 24 hours later. Between the music and the movement of the bus, Niall slowly began to slip into sleep.
Some indeterminable time later, he awoke with a jump and a mild expletive, which turned into a yelled exclamation when he registered the feel of someone’s hand on his bare shoulder.
“What the fucking fuck?!” he demanded, trying to push the hand off.
“It’s just me, Ni,” Zayn murmured, not letting go. “Calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm fucking down?” Niall spluttered. “What the fuck are you doing in my fucking bunk, you cunt?”
“Hey!” Zayn said sharply. “Calm your shit! That’s enough of that.”
Niall whimpered as Zayn still held onto him, but backed down a little.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “But please, let go.”
“Not a chance, babe,” Zayn said easily. “I know what’s wrong with you.”
“There’s nothing fucking wrong with me,” Niall immediately protested.
“Yes, yes there is,” Zayn replied. “We’ve noticed. We’ve all noticed. That you’re flinching whenever we touch you, that you’re sequestering yourself away from us when we’re watching films or playing games.” He paused for a moment as though considering whether or not to share what he was about to, before shrugging a little. “Plus, Harry looked at your laptop and saw your search history about touch starvation.” He gently nudged at Niall’s shoulder with his hand. “So we’re going to help.”
“You can’t help,” Niall choked out. “It hurts. You’re actually hurting me by just touching me.”
“I know, babe, I know,” Zayn said apologetically. “But I promise - we looked it up too. This is how we resolve it.”
The curtain surrounding Niall’s bunk got yanked back swiftly, revealing Louis, Liam, and Harry.
“Basically, you’re shit out of luck,” Louis said bluntly. “We’ve had a word with management - Harry’s got a gastro problem -” at this, Harry grunted and bent over, clutching his stomach, “- so we’ve been able to push the Denver gig back 24 hours to give us some time with you.”
“Zayn was leading the charge to run interference,” Liam elaborated. “He’s going to be the main one getting you back to normal, but we’re all going to be involved. It’s just… going to be a process. One that we’re all committed to.”
“You’re important, Ni,” Harry added. “And we’re sorry that you’ve been left to feel that you’re not. We never ever meant for that to happen. And we’re sorry that you’ve been made unwell by our stupidity.”
“You’re not stupid,” Niall protested weakly, his eyes filling with tears. “You’re all great lads. I love you lot.”
“We love you too,” Zayn said firmly. “So let us look after you.” He carefully rearranged how Niall was laid next to him, and shifted so that they were touching a little more. “We’re going to spoil the shit out of you, Nialler. So, be prepared for a whole bunch of loving.”
Harry shimmied his shoulders, before starting to sing softly:
“Gimme all your lovin, all your hugs and kisses too…”
“You can keep your kisses to yourself, you gangly fucker,” Niall pointed at him.
“Oi!” Louis protested.
“Or give them to him,” Niall corrected.
Liam reached over to gently touch Niall’s hand over the blanket.
“We’re all here for you,” he repeated. “And please, don’t push us out again.”
Niall took a shaky breath and nodded quickly.
“Thanks, lads,” he murmured. “Means a lot, really.”
With that, the curtains were closed again, leaving Niall and Zayn alone in the small space. Strangely though, Niall didn’t feel anything resembling the claustrophobia that would normally begin to close in on him. He looked at Zayn, searching his face for answers to the myriad of questions he couldn’t verbalise. Zayn gazed steadily back, his expression far more open than it normally was, unwilling to hide anything from his friend.
“Why are you doing this?” Niall whispered after a while.
“Because it should never have happened to you in the first place,” Zayn immediately replied. “Because I dropped the ball. Because I should’ve noticed. I spend so much time watching you and watching what you’re doing. So how the fuck did I miss that you’ve been hiding away from us because you hurt every time you’re touched?”
“I was hiding it,” Niall sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“You never have to apologise,” Zayn interrupted. “This is not on you at all.”
“But it is,” Niall shrugged.
Zayn huffed softly, before he gently touched Niall’s chin with a finger.
“Can I do something?” he asked nervously.
“Um… o-okay?” Niall looked a little anxious as he agreed.
Zayn swallowed hard and then leaned in, gently brushing his lips against Niall’s. Niall inhaled sharply, expecting the stinging pain to fire through his face, but instead only felt the tender touch of Zayn. He whimpered softly and leaned into the kiss, giving just as much as he was taking from Zayn, slowly sliding his hand up to gently cup Zayn’s jaw.
Outside, the sounds of their kisses could be heard in the lounge area. Louis pulled a face.
“Do we sound like that?” he asked Liam, leaning into Harry a little more.
“Worse,” Liam said flatly.
“Leave them be,” Harry huffed, cuddling Louis closer. “It’s sweet. And if it helps Niall, that’s even better.”
“You’re such a romantic,” Louis grumbled, hiding his face in Harry’s throat.