Work Text:
'Can you cover for me tomorrow?' asks Zayn when his shift ends for the night. He straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at his reflection. His hair flops down on his forehead and Zayn looks all of fourteen years old.
Louis cocks an eyebrow at him. 'Hot date?'
'Yeah. Guy's built like a brick house.'
'Didn't know you were into blokes like that,' says Louis as he pushes Zayn away from the tiny mirror so he can have a go at the spot on his face. 'Damn it, look at this! I'm hideous!'
Zayn smirks. 'You know you're still going to get lots of free drinks tonight regardless of that huge zit you can see from outer space.'
'You're a dick, Malik. Maybe I won't take your shift and - '
Zayn hugs the older man and pats his shoulder. 'Be a friend, Lou. I always help you out when you pull.'
Sighing, Louis shakes his head. 'I am an amazing best friend, aren't I? Alright, you can go on your date but you will owe me.'
'You mustn't count favours, Lou,' says Zayn with a grin. He pecks Louis on the cheek. 'Alright, I'm off, thank God. Tonight I've got a date with a time-travelling Doctor and Indian takeaway.'
'Lucky you,' mumbles Louis as they squeeze out of the tiny EMPLOYEES ONLY loo. 'I've got to deal with the pissed louts who keep chatting me up and ordering me drinks that I still have to make. I don't even have a date this Valentine's. My life is crap.'
Zayn grabs his bag and slings it over his head. He smirks and kicks Louis in the shin before pushing open the backdoor. 'Yeah,' he agrees, 'it is.'
Zayn's flat is a small box in a crumbling building in a shit part of the city. The radiator breaks down during cold days and his fan makes this weird screeching noise that makes Zayn fear for his life when the weather is hot as Hell. His kitchenette is mostly a countertop, sink, fridge, and cooker; fortunately Zayn can't cook. It's a far cry from his previous flat but Zayn doesn't care. He loves this place and all the annoying problems that come with it (not so much when those problems actually get in the way of his comfort) and he's never going back to his old one, or the semi-detached, five bedroom house in the suburbs he grew up in.
He toes off his trainers and heads straight for his sofa. His telly's still sulking after Zayn threw a shoe at it during one of his moods, so he drags his laptop onto his lap, opens a carton of chicken tikka, and goes through his bootleg copies of Doctor Who. The couple upstairs are in a fierce row and Zayn turns up the volume. The sound of the Tardis dematerialising drowns the shouts of 'you cheating bastard!' and 'fat, ugly cow!'
It's sort of lonely, Zayn has to admit. He's been looking forward to this all day but now that he's actually sat on his sofa, just picking at his food and unable to give the Doctor the attention he deserves, Zayn is sick of his own company all of a sudden. While solitude is brilliant, especially after being surrounded by people at work, there are times when Zayn wants another human presence to distract him. Usually he can count on Louis and Niall for that but lately they've been too busy to hang out. Zayn is the only one with loads of free time; sometimes he's smug over it, like when they complain about their busy schedules, but mostly he's worried that it might mean his life is sucking more than usual.
Sighing, Zayn stops the Doctor mid-extrapolation and pulls up his iTunes instead. He puts his takeaway on the coffee table. Zayn lies on his stomach, face buried in his arms, and closes his eyes. The acoustic guitar drifts into smooth, perfect vocals and Zayn exhales softly. So this is what's missing. Zayn drifts to the sound of Liam Payne's voice singing about one more chance.
His friends say Zayn has a problem but Zayn likes to think of it as a hobby. A grown man who has been dedicated to urban music his entire life can spend a few hours (a day) trawling through Fuck Yeah Liam Payne without it being as weird as the lady who lives with thirty cats, because it's really not. Louis likes to point out that the level of sadness is more or less the same. By this time in their well-worn argument, protective about his life choices, Zayn retorts that it's better than dating people who always fuck and leave.
('You are delusional!' screeches Louis, thoroughly offended, and turns to Niall for support. 'He is, right, Nialler? As if Zayn isn't heartbroken because he's in love with a popstar. That's like loving a figment of your imagination because you're the one putting all these characteristics to a stranger's face and - admittedly amazing - body!'
Zayn scowls and throws a cushion at him. Louis ducks behind Niall. 'Shut up! I am not in love with him. I simply like his music.'
'This coming from the man who scoffs at Justin Beiber!'
'Liam's got indie pop roots, okay? And not the pretentious sort.'
Louis rolls his eyes. 'Is there any other kind?'
'He's still much better than Justin Beiber,' Zayn defends.
This is when Niall finally gets into the row with an indignant, 'Oi, don't belittle Justin in front of me.'
By silent, mutual agreement, Zayn and Louis take out their frustrations by teasing Niall.
'Justin, is it, Niall? I didn't know you two were on a first-name basis!'
'When's the wedding, man?'
'You should hyphenate your surnames like you're posh. Horan-Beiber. Sounds like an STD, doesn't it?')
It's not as if Zayn obsessively stalks Liam or something. Sure, he follows Liam on Twitter, likes his Facebook page, fills his laptop storage with Liam's music and diary videos, and has about twenty bookmarks dedicated to him, but that's normal for a fan. At least Zayn doesn't write fan fiction. (Definitely not because he gets irrationally jealous thinking about Liam with someone else; he's not that kind of fan.)
Zayn genuinely enjoys Liam's music, his brilliant voice, his tender meaningful lyrics. It's not something he usually prefers but there's always an exception to a person's playlist. Plus, Liam has those big brown eyes and sunny smile and adorable personality and abs -
Zayn's not in love (he's not an idiot, no matter what Louis thinks) but it's perfectly normal to have a celebrity crush.
When Zayn is younger and full of optimism, he dreams of becoming a famous artist. His parents stop speaking to him after he switches majors and Zayn is forced to leave his posh flat for the one he has now and takes on three jobs to support himself. After uni, he gets hired by the pub he still works for and Zayn reassures himself it's a temporary thing and he'll start painting again for real.
He never does, though, and as one year turns to two, Zayn tells his friends he'll settle for being a mildly admired artist and will go back to art soon. Then two becomes three and becomes four.
Zayn's loses his optimism somewhere between long shifts at the pub and burying his disappointments in partying with random strangers in hazy clubs. Eventually he becomes another sob story in this shit world.
But it isn't completely terrible. He has Niall and Louis, two of the best people he's ever known who continues to stick by him even when he's being a right moody twat. He loves them dearly and without them he'd probably be dead by now. He has his sisters, who defy their parents and still love him as much as before.
Then there's Liam.
Zayn gets that there are people in the world who entrust their hopes and miseries in the hands of famous stars who they think they can relate to. It's more blatant with musicians because they are the voices that sing of your pain, joy, longing, love - of your everything. They're the ones who seem to know your soul and write the words that tell the story of your life or the life you desperately crave, and somehow they become the people you want in real life because they make you feel less alone. It's the same with characters in books or films or television programmes; actors, writers, artists. It's a bizarre relationship because it's based entirely on similar experiences and emotions between complete strangers, and sometimes it’s strong enough that people literally cry when faced with their heroes.
And Zayn never thought he'd be like that. He uses music as an outlet when he's unhappy but it's always the songs and not the singers. Until Liam Freaking Payne happened.
It's mostly curiosity, at first, when Zayn's browsing through the music store and he sees the poster of a face he vaguely remembers seeing on X-Factor just as a new song plays on the speakers. It's soft and sweet, a bit pop, a bit acoustic, a bit reminiscent of Death Cab For Cutie. The lyrics are surprisingly poetic and the voice: smooth, low, and beautiful, tugging at something inside Zayn's chest. Despite himself he asks the girl behind the till whose song it is.
She looks at him, at his ripped clothes, his stubble, his bleached fringe, his tattoos and lazy dark eyes. Zayn resists the urge to cross his arms defensively and merely lifts an eyebrow. She blushes and points at the poster Zayn's been ogling. 'Liam Payne. You know, from X-Factor? It's from his first album, Try To Be Good. It's, ehm, brilliant.'
Zayn leaves without buying anything and the song gets stuck in his head for the rest of the week. It doesn't help that he keeps hearing it on the radio. Radio 1 seems keen on playing it over and over.
'That's a good song,' Louis remarks a few days later when Zayn's humming the chorus under his breath.
Zayn shrugs and says, 'It's alright,' even though he's memorised it by heart and belted it out in the shower once or twice.
Louis says, 'Liam's album is great. Have you had a listen yet?'
'Not really my thing,' answers Zayn. 'Song's just stuck in my head.'
It's the truth, too, until Zayn starts coming across Liam Payne everywhere. The funny thing about the Internet is that even when you're not actively seeking something out, you find it anyway and get sucked in against your will. The same curiosity, and the remembered lilt of Liam's voice, makes Zayn click on the music video, then the next one, and the next, until Zayn's heard the entire album at least twice before he goes Fuck it and buys it on iTunes. Louis' right; it's actually good and not at all the tween fantasy Zayn expected when he saw the bulk of Liam's fanbase online. Zayn's surprised by how much he likes it. He's never enjoyed anything other than hip hop and rock classics. Liam's music definitely swims in pop mainstream but it has moments of profoundness that makes Zayn ache. When he slips into that dark place in his head, out of all the songs in his iPod, he find himself gravitating to the ones sung by the boy with the earnest brown eyes and softly curling hair. Zayn definitely understands the reason why Liam's fans are mainly female.
Curiosity gives way to attraction to admiration then to something Zayn doesn't even want to think about because it's pathetic as hell. When his friends find out about his new fixation (Louis hacked his laptop, the wanker), they tease him mercilessly. Zayn still maintains he's only a casual fan and ignores Louis' list of reasons on why he's really not ('Number 13: you downloaded his season of X-Factor and watch it whenever you're sad, even though you know you'll end up more depressed in the end when he loses. 14: when you're angry you play that video diary of him saying the lamest chat-up lines while making faces and you laugh every time, Zayn. You've got a problem, mate.')
It's not a problem. Zayn knows he'll never meet Liam in real life, or be any of the things he imagines, because real life just does not work that way.
But if he sometimes dreams about Liam or compares his dates to a bright smile and puppy eyes then, then, then.
Zayn still believes it's not a problem.
10 Feb 3:14pm
@Liam_Payne
Finally back home! Good to see London again. Hullo everyone.
The thing about London is it's not really a big city, it just feels like one. Niall insists that he has come across every person living in London at least once. Considering the fact that Niall usually has the morning shift at the busiest Starbucks in the city then he's probably right. Famous footballers and politicians stride into Niall’s Starbucks in droves. His latest run-in happened last week when he gave Daniel Radcliffe a free raisin muffin. The picture of them and the muffin is currently Niall's phone’s wallpaper.
Zayn figures some people are just lucky like that. He and Louis have wasted many hours in the coffee shop but haven't seen anyone even vaguely famous yet.
At least Niall's never met Liam while he’s at work, because that would be unspeakably unfair and Zayn will be forced to hate Niall on principle, and hating Niall is probably a crime in some countries.
But then life seems to take pleasure in being a bitch to Zayn because as he's trying to get one of his sketches right, his phone chirps with a Twitter update.
12 Feb 8:26am
@Liam_Payne
Met a very nice chappie at Starbucks who gave me free tea. Cheers mate!
Zayn stares, the image of a quiet shadowy woodland disappearing from his head as he tries to understand the Tweet because there is no fucking way -
12 Feb 8:30am
@Liam_Payne
Oh yah he was Irish too! Nice to meet an Irish fan! Not a lot of those for some reason haha
When Niall rings him thirty seconds after, Zayn answers with a succinct, 'Fuck you.'
Niall laughs. 'Mate! It was awesome! I met Liam Freaking Payne and he was ridiculously nice. I gave him tea on the house, right, and he insisted on paying for it. In the end I had to force the cup into his hands and he, like, bought me one of those cream pastries I love in exchange. Weird lad, that Liam.' He sounds sort of giddy and a bit like Zayn when he's had too many pints and can't help babbling about the adorable things Liam does.
'Fuck you,' repeats Zayn. He was supposed to drop by the cafe but got caught up in his drawing. Zayn manages not to hurl his pencil across the room because he's poor and can't afford to buy himself quality art supplies on a regular basis.
'Aw, don't be sad, Zayn,' cajoles Niall. There's the sound of paper crinkling. 'I got you his autograph! Would have been his number but I thought that'd be weird, even if I told him it's for you, someone he doesn't know. Anyway, he's well fit, for a bloke.' Now Niall's just taking the piss. 'You're right about his eyes, like chocolate. And he was all sweaty as well, having just gone on a run. Flushed in the face and beaming like mad. Too bad he didn't take off his shirt so I could see the abs you natter on about.'
So unfair Zayn could cry.
Zayn has half a mind to cancel his date and wallow in self pity because the world officially hates him. Louis refuses to let him, though – the same Louis who had laughed long and hard when he heard the story and then had slapped Zayn lightly on the cheek for being daft. In the end, Louis had to pry the piece of paper (with Liam's signature and a smiley face scribbled on it) from Zayn's fingers, promised to buy a tastefully expensive frame for it, and kicked Zayn out of his own flat with the reminder to get laid because Louis is working on his day off for Zayn’s arse so said arse better have a good time.
So now Zayn's sat by himself in the restaurant, waiting for his date to arrive, scrolling through Twitter like the stalker he pretends not to be.
He had saved Liam's Tweet about Niall since it really is kind of brilliant. He’s rereading it for the thousandth time and wishing it was about him when someone taps his shoulder. For one wild moment between fantasy and reality, Zayn thinks it’s Liam but when he looks it's only Clifford, his date.
Zayn probably ought to omit the 'only' there considering he's on a date with the guy. Clifford is a paramedic and he's gorgeous with grey eyes and a long nose and a body like a machine. To most people, Clifford is a great catch.
'Hi,' says Clifford with a smile. 'This seat taken?'
Zayn locks his phone and smirks. 'It depends. Are you good company?'
'Pretty good, especially when the date is over and I take you home with me.'
‘In that case, better sit down and prove it.’
Clifford grins and does as he's told. They order dinner and make small talk. It's nice, Zayn thinks. Clifford's an interesting guy and he's dead confident, touching Zayn and making innuendos throughout the meal. He's exactly Zayn's type, unlike Liam who's probably shy and courteous when he’s out with someone, blushing at every accidental and not-so-accidental touch -
Stop it right there, Zayn tells himself firmly and steers his thoughts elsewhere, such as Clifford's thick shoulders and arms. He's much bigger than any of Zayn's past flings. Size difference isn't exactly his thing but maybe this is what he needs, something new and unknown.
There is no doubt where the night is heading when Clifford grabs his hand and pulls him close outside the restaurant. Zayn smiles and kisses him and it's nice. All of it is just nice.
'You're buzzing,' Clifford mumbles into his mouth.
Zayn grins. 'Not yet but I will be.'
The other man pulls back and rolls his eyes. 'I meant your phone.'
'Oh, right.' Zayn takes out his mobile and sees Louis' name on the screen. He debates on whether he ought to answer it as Clifford's hands slide down his waist.
With an apologetic shake of his head, Zayn steps back and says, 'Sorry but I should take this. Might be important.' Knowing Louis, it could also be absolutely nothing. Still, it says something about the date if he's willing to risk spoiling the mood. 'What is it, Lou?'
'Oh my God, Zayn, oh my God!' Louis yells shrilly.
He has to pull the mobile away from his ear for a bit. When Louis stops shrieking, Zayn asks again, worriedly this time, 'What's the matter? Are you alright?'
'Fuck me, Zayn; you have got to come to the pub now now NOW!'
'What? I'm still on my date!' Zayn glances sideways at Clifford. 'What the bloody hell is going on with you?'
Louis makes a noise in his throat like a cat being trod on. 'He's here, Zayn. Oh my God. He's here in our pub!'
'Who?' asks Zayn, bewildered.
'Liam Payne, you fucking tit!' Louis shouts. 'So get your arse here right now or you will miss him. Christ, he’s fit as fuck. FYI, if you're not here in thirty minutes, I'm going to seduce him.'
Then Louis hangs up.
Zayn stares at his mobile with blank eyes. He needs a moment to process this. Because. First Niall meets Liam and gets a sweet shoutout. Then Louis calls him to say Liam is at their pub where Zayn is supposed to be if he isn't on a date with a bloke he doesn't really fancy all that much.
Clifford shuffles impatiently. 'Zayn?'
The moment ends with a snap that echoes through Zayn's head and Zayn literally scrambles. 'Yeah sorry, but I gotta go,' he says, already walking away and waving his arms like a mad person for a taxi because fuck trains, this is an emergency. 'Uh, sorry, but I really need to – bugger, TAXI!' he hollers, startling the people strolling past. Clifford stares at him like he’s gone mental. Zayn probably has. The only thing running through his mind is Liam Liam Liam I’m going to meet Liam! in a voice suspiciously reminiscent of the squeaky one his thirteen-year-old self used to have.
Magically, for once in his life, an empty cab stops in front of him. Zayn gets in and barks the address before tacking on a meek ‘please’ when the cabbie stares at him through the rearview mirror.
He fumbles for his phone and sends Louis an emphatic text:
IF YOU SEDUCE HIM WE ARE DONE FOREVER.
The reply he gets is a worrying :D.
Zayn has seen Liam only once before, shelling out pounds he could have used to buy new paints for a decent seat to a small, acoustic gig. He's sincerely glad Louis and Niall aren't with him because they will definitely not let him live this one down, especially when he tears up for the first song. It's Breathe With Me and Zayn is in ecstasy when Liam's voice fills the intimate space until it seems like it's just the two of them. He's not the only one who feels this way as every face on either side of him is tilted back in rapture. Zayn forgets about the fact that he's probably the only guy here not dragged by his girlfriend because for the rest of the night Liam smiles and laughs and acts utterly daft.
He knows it's absurd but Zayn cannot stop the surge of genuine affection in his chest for this person on stage he doesn't know but wants with every fibre of his being. The one wearing the blue shirt and dark green trousers, hair falling softly into his eyes. The one with the voice that sends shivers down Zayn's spine.
When Zayn gets home with the biggest smile on his face and still singing under his breath, Zayn can admit to himself that he might be slightly in trouble.
He stumbles through the backdoor and straight into the loo. He's horrified when he sees the rat's nest that calls itself hair on top of his head. He had sprinted the last few blocks after traffic waylaid his cab and Zayn is not ashamed to have done it. He quickly tries to fix his hair into some semblance of style when the door bursts open and Louis cries, 'You're finally here! Come on, Zayn, hurry, hurry, hurry!'
Zayn takes a deep breath and tries to find that cool dude he used to be. 'Chill, Lou, I've seen him before.'
Louis is unimpressed. It's like he can see straight inside Zayn’s chest to where his heart is doing a crazy samba. 'I don't have time for your lies, Zayn. This is different from a concert and you know it.'
Now that Zayn's pretending to be unruffled, he's actually calming down a bit. 'Come off it, Louis, do you think this is a movie? So Liam's here – ' His inner self gives a squeal ' – but it's not as if anything will happen. He's used to people throwing themselves at him and what's one more crazy fan? I've got my pride, Lou. And he's straight.'
The other man cups the side of Zayn's face and tilts it up. Louis' blue eyes are very kind. 'Jesus, Zayn, you really fancy him, don't you? Well, then, this is your chance! What's wrong with taking the risk of talking to him? I know you'll be chuffed even with a simple hello. And fuck your pride; this is Liam Payne, the guy you've fancied for ages! This could be your chance for something, anything. This is your opportunity to star in your own chick flick! Besides, you and I both know he's not as straight as his management tries to make him seem. He had that suspicious thing with that French actor last year.'
'Don’t remind me,' grumbles Zayn. Those cosy pictures had plagued his nightmares for weeks. He rubs a hand over his face and peers at Louis. 'He's alone?'
'Yep. Doing the quiz.'
'By himself?' Zayn had forgot about the pub quiz tonight. 'He hasn't been mobbed?'
'A few people have gone over for a chat but mostly they're giving him distance.' Louis straightens Zayn's button-down and eyes him critically. 'You're slightly sweaty but you'll do.' He pouts and gently punches Zayn on the shoulder. 'How are you always so gorgeous, damn you.'
Just then Paul pokes his head in and growls, 'Louis, what are you doing back here? Who's minding the bar?'
Louis puts on an innocent face. 'Oops, I forgot I'm supposed to be working. So sorry, Paul. Let's go, Zayn.'
Paul stares at them as they slink off. His gaze narrows at Zayn. 'It's that lad, innit? The one with the face who caused the commotion earlier.'
'Zayn's future husband, yeah,' says Louis cheerfully and snags the plate of chips on the kitchen counter. 'Ta for this, Paul.'
'Cheeky sod, that'll come out of your wages!' Paul shouts after them as they enter the front of the pub. It's crowded for the weekly pub quiz, regulars and newcomers alike in teams of four to ten.
Louis grins and shoves the plate into Zayn's hands. He points blatantly to one of the tables in the corner, and Zayn follows the line of his finger until he sees the figure in the jumper and jeans, scribbling diligently as the quizmaster, Perrie, throws question after question to the teams. Zayn's fingers clench around the plate and he swallows.
Louis shakes his head at the look on Zayn's face. 'Geez,' he mutters fondly. He fills a glass from the tap and hands it to Zayn.
'No, Liam doesn't drink. One kidney,' mumbles Zayn as he takes deep breaths, mentally psyching himself up.
Louis cracks up. 'It's for you, loverboy.'
'Oh. Cheers.' He drinks half of it in three long swallows and puts the glass down.
Louis gives him a thumbs-up and a small nudge. 'Now go, before someone else steals him from you. Namely me.'
Zayn drags himself forward, gaze fixed on the man tapping on his iPhone. He's not the only one, either, as eyes flicker in Liam's direction and then away, only to go back with the subtle tilt of camera phones. Zayn frowns and then lifts his chin up and lengthens his stride. Zayn is attractive, confident, and cool; he usually has people eating out of the palm of his hand in thirty seconds flat (Louis and Niall timed it for him on one occasion). Zayn isn't chicken shit or a swooning maiden, not even for Liam Freaking Payne.
Nonetheless, Zayn hesitates when he's fnally behind Liam, who is still jotting answers to Perrie's geography questions. And before Zayn can even think about it, he says, 'You spelt Guatemala wrong. There’s only one "t".'
Liam's head snaps up and their eyes meet. Zayn falters and he barely manages to stifle his whimper. He is so close he can see the dark shade of Liam's eyes, the arch of his thick eyebrows, the slight curl of his caramel hair (growing again, thank God), the birthmark on his neck that's featured in a few of Zayn's fantasies.
The pictures and videos don't do him justice at all; Liam is more beautiful than Zayn thinks is possible. Zayn's inner fanboy squirms with want before he realises what he just said. 'Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to, uh, um, er – ' He grimaces and drops the plate of chips on the table with a rattle. 'Compliments of the house.'
Liam stares at him with wide eyes. 'Yeah. Um. Thanks.' He bites his lower lip, shakes his head a little, and then smiles. Smiles at Zayn. 'Thank you, really. For the spelling check as well, but won’t you get in trouble for helping me - '
Crap, thinks Zayn as a jolt goes through his chest at the sight of Liam's grin, I am a swooning maiden.
' – erm, sorry, I don’t know your name?'
Zayn panics because what the fuck is his name? 'I'm – '
'Zayn Jawaad Malik,' Louis supplies, appearing out of nowhere with a smirk. He sets down two glasses on the table. 'Here you go, babe, the orange juice you wanted. Let me tell you, we don't usually serve fruit juices here. Had to go to the petrol station across the street for a carton of Tropicana.'
Liam's eyebrows shift down. 'You didn't have to do that, Lou.' He sips his orange juice. 'But thanks. I love Tropicana.'
Zayn's gaze swerves briefly to Louis and the older man gives him a shit-eating grin. 'He calls you "Lou"? I thought you said thirty minutes,' Zayn hisses at him when Liam is momentarily distracted by something Perrie announces.
'You snooze, you lose,' Louis whispers back. He directs a wide smile at Liam. 'So I'm just gonna head back to my post before I get fired. The pint's for you, Zayn. If you need anything, Li, just give me a shout; I'll bend over backwards to please you.' With an outrageous leer at a red-cheeked Liam, Louis starts to turn around but then stops. A look settles on his face that Zayn has seen countless times in the past, usually before something catastrophic happens.
'By the way, Liam, Zayn here is your biggest fan. He's a total fanboy. Practically lives in your tag on Tumblr, he does.'
Zayn is going to kill Louis.
He winks at Zayn and jogs back to the bar where there's a line of disgruntled customers waiting.
Zayn is going to kill Louis and hide the body where no one will ever find it. Niall can help. Zayn's sure he can convince Niall to be his accomplice. He is blushing so hard he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. This is the most humiliating moment of Zayn's life and there's a lot to choose from. After he murders Louis, Zayn can find a rock he can crawl under and never leave because Liam Payne is –
Giggling behind him.
'Er, Zayn, is it?' says Liam in between sniggers. 'You can sit down if you want.'
Biting the inside of his cheek, Zayn slowly turns to look at him.
Liam is grinning from ear to ear, tiny crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. He points to the vacant chair across from him with his pen. 'You're on a break, yeah, since Lou brought you a pint. Go on.'
He sits, disbelieving.
Liam’s eyes sparkle. 'I'm Liam Payne, by the way, but I've got a feeling you already know that.'
A second later, Zayn covers his face with his palms. 'Fuck, sorry about Louis. He's an arse.'
'I'm sure he can be,' says Liam. 'But - Zayn, interesting name.'
Zayn peeks at him from between his fingers. The other man is still beaming at him. Zayn's brain sort of short-circuits at the sight. He's still mad at Louis, but maybe he'll downgrade from homicide to battery, such as kicking him in the bollocks.
'For the record, you don't look like one of my fans. You've got stubble,' Liam jokes, obviously trying to make Zayn feel better and Zayn does, despite the joke being crap. Liam makes a face. Zayn practically melts on the inside. Be cool, man.
'Sorry, that was lame, yeah?' Liam runs a hand through his short hair. 'I'm bad at conversation.'
'You're,' Zayn has to clear his throat, 'not the only one. I mean. Me too.' He rolls his eyes and points to himself with a shrug. 'See? This is proof right here.'
Liam laughs again. Zayn feels like he ought to start a tally: The Number Of Times I Made Liam Payne Laugh. It's the highlight of Zayn's life so far, or ever, and he's alright with that. (He can already picture Louis shaking his head at him in pity.)
'You don't seem like the type who's awkward with people,' Liam tells him. The pub quiz is all but forgotten. He waves a hand at Zayn. 'You're cool. Like, with the tattoos and stuff. I bet you smoke too.'
'Guilty,' says Zayn. Liam thinks he's cool. He's blushing again. Well, it never went away.
'Those can kill you, you know.'
Zayn can't stop the roll of his eyes. 'Christ, really? Someone ought to put that on the pack.'
A lopsided smile appears on Liam's lips. 'I reckon you hear that a lot, huh?'
'All the bloody time. I'm thinking about quitting, though. I hear it's bad for the teeth.'
Liam mimics Zayn's shocked tone. 'No, are you sure? Who cares about breathing as long as you've got pearly whites.'
Zayn is so fucking giddy. 'Twit.'
Grinning, Liam clinks his glass against Zayn's pint. After a few shy attempts at trading random facts about each other, they end up chatting about nothing important one moment and something vital in the next. It's the sort of conversation that Zayn's only read about or seen in the cheesiest films. Zayn is insanely comfortable, the chorus of Liam Payne Liam Payne softening to a murmur in the back of his head as they talk, talk, and laugh. Zayn likes how Liam uses his hands to make a point; how his eyes nearly disappear and his cheeks bunch up when he really smiles; how he's so normal and down to earth and nice. Zayn hasn't been bored or distracted once.
They eventually fall into silence but it's not awkward at all. Zayn takes a sip of his pint before swirling the amber liquid inside the glass. He sneaks a glance at Liam and finds Liam already looking at him. A very becoming blush spreads on Liam's cheeks and he hastily averts his gaze, fiddling with his pen. Zayn's toes curl in his trainers as hope suddenly beats its wings against his heart.
Louis is right. Why can't Zayn take a chance when he's always jumped in the past? And if life can find a tiny fleck of pity for him, then maybe, just maybe, Zayn’s wildest dreams will come true.
So Zayn jumps.
'Actually, Louis wasn't kidding,' he says, breaking the silence, fingers pressing tighty against the damp glass between his hands. Liam tilts his head curiously. 'I am a fan. Massive, in fact. When you Tweeted about my friend Niall earlier I just about lost my head – '
'Hang on, Niall from Starbucks? The Irish lad who gives free teas?'
'And anything else on the menu to every famous person who comes in during his shift,' says Zayn dryly.
A strange look flits across Liam's face, too fast for Zayn to decipher. 'He's the one who told me about this place. Said it's got decent food and a friendly atmosphere.'
Bless you, Niall Horan.
With a wink, Liam reaches for a chip and pops it into his mouth. 'He's right, too: about the food and atmosphere. How do you ruin something like chips, anyway? All you do is put them in the fryer and wait for them to turn golden.' Liam waves a chip in the air and frowns. 'Although I do remember Mum putting something charred and bitter on my plate and calling them chips when I was growing up.'
'You're kind of a dork in popstar clothing, aren't you?' I love you I love you oh my God how are you real?
Sinking back in his seat, Liam purses his lips. 'Damn, you've figured me out.'
Zayn sighs dramatically. 'I feel jaded by the truth.'
'I'm so sorry I'm not the brooding, mysterious stereotype. My team tried to turn me into one but it's just not me.' Liam eyes him speculatively. 'You, on the other hand, could certainly pull it off.'
'Yeah?'
'Give me and the other superstars a run for our money.'
Zayn cups his chin in his palm. 'You really are sweet as sugar. No wonder the girls go mad for you. And the cougars. It's not only because of your lovely voice.'
Liam has this habit in interviews or gigs where he ducks his head when embarrassed and he does it now and it makes Zayn want to die. Or snog the hell out of him. They smile shyly at each other.
The flirting is heavy and obvious, and Zayn is over the fucking moon; he never expected Liam to be like this, confident and bashful in turns. And it's so easy to talk to him: Liam is funny and silly and fucking adorable. He's even better than Zayn imagined. If this is a dream, he doesn't ever want to wake up.
(If Zayn doesn't think about it, this could be another date with some random guy Zayn met in the coffee shop or wherever else clandestine meetings tend to go down. Only Liam can never just be "some random guy" because in whatever world, Zayn reckons Liam will always be special.
If Zayn was already in trouble before even having met Liam, then he is definitely fucked now.)
He catches sight of Louis over Liam's shoulder, hopping up and down and clapping over his head. Zayn wants to flip him off because he's attracting too much attention but he can't help but grin into his drink.
'So, um, about what you said,' says Liam, toying absently with his straw. 'Are you, do you really like my music?'
Zayn doesn't even hesitate, the words tumbling out of his mouth. 'Yes, absolutely. You're fantastic. I'm not much for pop but you totally blow me away. You're not like the other hokey, generic acts out right now. You're real.'
Liam is staring owlishly at him in surprise and Zayn licks his lips, rethinking his whole spontaneous risk-taking policy because he hadn't meant to say it quite in that way.
A faint pink tinge spreads on Liam's cheeks as the silence stretches. Zayn grips the edge of the table. Louis' words echo in his head: This could be your chance for something, anything.
In for a penny, Malik.
'I'm not trying to freak you out or anything, but when I feel pissed off or depressed or whatever, I don't turn to Frank Ocean or Usher or Justin Bloody Beiber; I listen to you. There's something about you, Liam. Like. I don't now.' Zayn chuckles self-consciously and rubs the back of his neck. He can't look at the other man. 'I never, ever thought I'd get the chance to meet you, let alone talk to you for more than a few seconds. I'm usually so eloquent but you make me nervous. You're Liam Payne but you're also just this regular bloke. A totally hot one and um, shit,' Zayn curses and claps his palm over his mouth. He groans. 'I'm really not this creepy, I promise. I'm sorry.'
'No,' says Liam quickly. His eyes are intense as they study Zayn's face. 'No. Thank you. That was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me.'
Zayn looks at him from under his lashes. 'Yeah?'
Liam sounds slightly breathlessly when he says, 'Yeah. Honestly. And I think you're gorgeous too. Ridiculously gorgeous.'
'Oh.'
Liam finds Zayn attractive. More than. Zayn really, really wants to kiss him. He drinks his beer instead. Flirting is all well and good but they're out in public, and no matter how long Liam stares at Zayn's lips, they can't. (The idea that they could, though, that Zayn could actually kiss Liam, totally makes his fingertips tingle.)
He sits down on the impulse to jump Liam's bones. 'Not completely straight then?' he asks softly, mindful of prying ears. The women at the next table have been ogling both of them for a while.
Liam's lips quirk. 'Not completely straight,' he repeats in quiet confirmation and Zayn mentally pumps his fist.
'Oh,' mumbles Zayn again, gaze dropping to the other man's mouth. They are pink and full, slightly parted, and something hot and electric slithers down to Zayn's gut. His eyes flick up to Liam's. Suddenly it's hard to breathe.
A knife could cut through the sexual tension but it's the unexpected ring of Liam's mobile that does it. Liam startles and scrunches his face comically. He takes his phone from his pocket.
'Excuse me,' he says, and presses the device to his ear. 'Hello?'
Zayn leans back in his chair and lets out a long breath. He tries not to eavesdrop on Liam's call, looking around the pub as the quiz goes on and spotting a bunch of kids discreetly cheating on their mobiles. Zayn makes a mental note to tell Perrie later.
The bright peal of laughter from Liam drags Zayn's attention back to him.
'Harry, no, you didn't!' Liam is saying, mouth curved in an exasperated but fond smile. 'Where are you now? Yeah? That's not too far from the pub I told you about. Come here instead.'
Zayn bites down on his frown.
Liam rolls his eyes. 'I haven't been molested, Haz, you dramatic twat. It's a nice place.'
Nicknames? Zayn crosses his arms.
'You coming, then? Brilliant. See you.' Liam puts away his iPhone and smiles at Zayn.
It's none of his business but Zayn can't help saying, 'Are you meeting someone? Because I can go - '
Liam sits up straight, looking slightly alarmed. 'Please, stay. That was just my best mate, Harry. He was helping out Grimmy but got into a row with him over a few track choices.' He scratches his jaw and looks over his shoulder. 'But, ehm, aren't you supposed to be working? Louis looks swamped.'
Damn, mate, relax. Best friend, he said. Zayn shrugs one shoulder and props his elbow on the back of the chair. 'I'm off duty tonight.' He aims a brash smile at Liam. 'I came here because Lou said there was a certain popstar in our pub.'
'Is that supposed to impress me, Zayn?'
In for a pound. 'Hmm, yeah. Ditched my date just to see you.'
Those brown eyes grow wide, indifference forgotten as Liam leans forward. 'You're taking the piss.' An awed sort of look appears on his face, like he can't believe Zayn, or anyone else, would do that for him, when they've probably done worse.
Zayn's grin turns sheepishly. It does sound a bit daft. 'Nah, man, I'm telling the truth but I swear I'm not a stalker.'
'Your actions sort of contradict your words,' Liam points out but then he sniggers. 'I can't decide if I ought to fear for my life or be flattered.'
'The latter, definitely. You're safe with me, Liam.' Zayn tries to look as sincere as possible.
'That's what all the crazies say at first.' Nibbling thoughtfully on his bottom lip, Liam slants him a look. 'But maybe it's not my life I'm exactly worried about.'
Zayn's heart stutters. Does he mean - 'That'd be safe too,' he whispers.
Liam nods, like he's made a decision. 'Listen, Zayn - '
'Leeyum!' someone suddenly cries and a tall person made out of curly hair throws himself on top of Liam, lips pecking him on the cheek.
Zayn half gets out of his chair, ready to kick this wanker's arse because who the hell does he think he is, when Liam giggles and engulfs the guy in a hug. Zayn sags back down, jealousy poking his chest like an annoying finger. He grits his teeth when the bloke begins dropping kisses all over Liam's face.
Liam giggles like a kid. 'Stop! Hazza! Come on!'
Harry pulls back with a grin. 'Missed you, mate.'
Rolling his eyes, Liam runs a hand through the other man's dark curls. 'We were only apart for a week, Haz, and we saw each other four hours ago!'
'Four hours is a lifetime. You shouldn't make light of my separation anxiety,' admonishes Harry. His eyes land on Zayn, narrows, and then they somehow fall into a staring contest. Zayn will be damned if he blinks first.
Liam shoves Harry off his lap and onto the chair beside him. 'Cut it out, mate. Zayn, meet Harry. Harry, Zayn.'
Harry does not look away as he slings an arm round Liam's shoulders. 'So. Zayn.'
Likewise, Zayn keeps his gaze steady (even as his eyes start to prickle). 'Harry.'
'What's your intention with my Liam here?' asks Harry bluntly. ''Cause let me tell you, no one is good enough for him.'
Zayn blinks. A second later, so does Harry, his smug grin bringing out dimples.
'Hazza!' Liam scowls and shrugs his mate's arm away. 'Don't be a twat.'
'What? It's my duty to protect you, Liam. He might take advantage of your innocence.'
'He's not - '
'I'm not - '
Liam and Zayn look at each other and burst out laughing.
Harry pouts, eyebrows high up over guarded green eyes. 'Feeling like a third wheel over here,' he finally whines and scoots closer to Liam.
'That's quite a guard dog you have, Li,' says Zayn. He catches sight of Harry's scowl and he snorts. 'More like a guard puppy.'
Liam ruffles Harry's hair. 'He's too overprotective for his own good.'
Harry sniffs and tosses his head back. 'It's because you always manage to attract the creepiest admirers. Remember Danielle? Nate? Cara? Peter? The Room 132 Incident?' He glares suspiciously at Zayn. 'Do I need to add your name to the list?'
Zayn makes a rude gesture. 'Piss off, mate.' He turns to Liam. 'What's the Room 132 Incident?'
'You aren't in the inner circle,' Harry answers snottily.
Liam huffs in amusement and picks up his pen to thwack Harry lightly on the forehead with it. 'We have no inner circle, Harry. Grimmy must've pissed you off something fierce for you to be so charming tonight.'
'Don't mention that two-faced spawn of Voldemort and Satan to me,' Harry growls, slapping the tabletop with his palm. 'He is the most irritating, annoying, infuriating, pretentious hipster son of a - '
Zayn smirks, amused despite himself. 'Boyfriend?'
Liam cackles as Harry splutters. 'You, I don't like you for Liam,' Harry declares before he gets to his feet. 'I'm going for a pint. Want anything, Li?'
'I'm good, thanks,' says Liam. Harry bumps him on the head with a fist and mutters, 'Fucking juice.'
When Harry goes to the bar, Liam faces Zayn and, lips still twitching, explains, 'He's talking about Nick Grimshaw, you know, from The Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Harry helps him out sometimes. They've got a complicated relationship.'
'Ah.' For a moment, Zayn forgot that Liam is actually famous. It must be a sign of personal growth. 'Is Harry a singer like you?'
'He sings beautifully,' says Liam with another one of his small, fond smiles, 'but he prefers working behind the scenes. He's my manager, actually. We've known each other since Reception.'
Zayn can't even imagine a wee Liam. He's seen pictures, of course, but to have known him as a little kid must be something else. Zayn will probably overdose from the cuteness.
He spots Harry talking to Louis at the bar. Harry pulls out his phone but Louis is staring at the curly-haired man with amazement on his face. Zayn knows that expression. Interesting.
'I'm sorry about Harry, by the way,' Liam apologises with a wince. 'He's a great guy, really. He just doesn't take to new people well or he's been with Grimmy recently.'
Zayn chuckles. 'And he's your manager? I'm surprised you even have a career.'
Before Liam can answer, a hand lands on his shoulder and they both glance up at Harry.
'That was fast,' says Liam.
Harry makes a face. 'Sorry, Liam, but we need to go. Gary rang. People have been Tweeting that you're here and the media's outside. They're also camped out in front of your flat. You'll have to spend the night at mine.'
Liam's face falls. He glances at Zayn. 'Oh, but can't we just ignore them and hope they'll go away?'
The corner of Harry's mouth pulls up. 'Afraid not, mate. Go on and say goodbye to your new,' a dirty look at Zayn, 'friend. We'll head out back. I've phoned for a car. Wallis should be here in a bit.'
Zayn is not at all prepared for Liam to leave. Who knows when he'll see Liam again, if ever. And the night had been going so well that Zayn had thought -
Liam blanches and looks at Zayn, obvious disappointment in his eyes. 'I'm sorry to leave like this, but - ' He bites the corner of his lip.
Zayn waves a hand and pretends it doesn't bother him. 'No, I get it. Media frenzy surrounds you. Must be frightening.'
'You've no idea, Zayn,' says Liam with a heavy sigh. His eyebrows are pinched together and he looks tired. He rubs a fist over one eye. 'I only wanted a quiet night out for once, you know? Haven't had one in years.'
Without thinking, Zayn reaches out and hugs him, the edge of the table digging into his stomach. They both freeze at the same time. The reality of Liam in his arms catches up to Zayn, but before he can panic, Liam returns the embrace tightly. Liam feels warm and solid and scarily perfect. Fuck, don't go, Zayn thinks.
When they pull apart, there's a soft smile curling Liam's lips. 'Thank you,' he murmurs.
Zayn clears his throat, face afire. 'N-No problem.'
Harry tugs Liam away from Zayn but he's watching Zayn thoughtfully. 'Li, we've got to go.'
Zayn stands up and grabs the empty plate and glasses. 'I'll lead you out,' offers Zayn, unwilling to be away from Liam's presence. He's going to soak it up for as long as possible. 'I work here,' he explains to Harry.
There is a definite buzz in the air that's got nothing to do with the quiz. Perrie looks flustered since no one is listening to her as people follow Liam's trek through the pub.
Liam shuffles closer to Zayn. 'Please applogise to Perrie for me. I've ruined her pub quiz.' His breath ghosts across the back of Zayn's neck.
'Oh, uh, yeah, sure,' mumbles Zayn distractedly.
Louis hurries over to them, running a hand through his hair. 'Hey babe, running out on me without saying goodbye?' His eyes drift to Harry. 'I'm completely gutted.'
Harry shoulders his way in front of Liam and sizes Louis up. Louis preens at the attention.
'Hello there, beautiful,' says Louis with the smile that's got him laid every single time. 'Can I buy you a drink? On the house, of course.'
Harry rolls his eyes. 'Bugger off, pervert, we're in a hurry. Go be smarmy somewhere else.'
'Aw, you're making me fall for you even more with your sweet words!'
Placing a hand against Zayn's spine, Liam leans in and whispers into his ear, 'Expect fireworks. Harry's very rude to people he fancies.'
'He must fancy me then,' Zayn laughs.
Fingers dig into his back. 'I hope not,' murmurs Liam. The low timbre of his voice sends another wave of shivers through Zayn and he swallows his gasp.
'Liam, car's nearby,' Harry says with a glare in Louis' direction. It's nothing like the looks he's been directing at Zayn. 'The exit's through here, yeah?'
Louis pushes open the door and sweeps his other arm in a grand gesture. 'Your exit, my Lord.' He gives a low bow then straightens with a step forward, their faces suddenly closer than before.
Harry blinks and scowls down at his phone again. 'Thanks,' he mutters, the slightest hint of colour on his cheeks. He hurries into the kitchen with his shoulders drawn up sharply. Liam's fingers slide off as he follows Harry and Zayn misses the touch instantly.
Zayn catches Louis' shining gaze as the other man eagerly trails after him. 'Get his number, I beg of you!'
'He's a git. And he called me a creep,' says Zayn.
'He sounds perfect for me because you are a creep.' Louis sticks his foot out and Zayn calmly hops over it. 'You owe me. Please, Zayn?'
'How can I get his number when I can't even ask for Liam's?'
'You sad, sad excuse of a man,' mocks Louis, trying to hide behind Zayn when he spies Paul ahead, holding a knife. 'To think I put so much faith in your pulling powers in the past.'
Zayn steps aside and says, 'Louis,' in a loud, drawling voice.
'You dick,' Louis growls.
Paul's head whips around and he grabs Louis by the collar and shakes him. 'Tomlinson, why the fuck are you here?' he barks.
Zayn dumps the dishes in the sink and leaves Louis to make his excuses. Liam and Harry are talking in hushed voices by the backdoor that leads to the small alley. Zayn wipes his hands on his jeans and licks his lips. He desperately wants to ask for Liam's number, to maybe see him again, but his tongue feels thick in his mouth and he can't think straight. What if Liam says no?
What if Liam says yes?
He takes a decisive step in their direction just as Harry twists the door open and suddenly it's chaos.
Flashes go off and there are shouts of 'Liam! Liam! Over here, Liam!' as hands clutch at any part of Liam they can reach. Harry yells and shoves the paparazzi back but there are too many of them.
Zayn sprints forward and knocks away the fist tugging on Liam's jumper. Liam flinches back when a camera nearly clips the side of his face and Zayn loses it.
'Get off, arseholes!' Zayn snarls and grabs Liam's wrist and a handful of soft jumper and hauls him inside. Louis, Paul, and the washer, Tom, rush to help them.
'Get him out of here!' Harry orders. 'Ouch, that was my foot, you fucker!'
'Harry!' Liam tries to twist himself free but Zayn holds on tightly.
'He'll be fine. Let's go, Li,' says Zayn urgently and he all but drags Liam back out to the pub. He catches a glimpse of Louis knocking back the guy who must've stepped on Harry's foot and can't help but chuckle. 'See? Louis to the rescue.'
'I'm so sorry about this,' moans Liam as they sprint past a bewildered Perrie and a bunch of excited customers with their mobiles up in the air. They stumble out onto the cold street, breathing hard from the adrenaline zinging through them.
Zayn lifts an arm. 'TAXI!'
A cab pulls over in the next second. Hunched over his knees and gasping, Liam still looks impressed. 'That's a cool superpower, Zayn.'
'I only discovered it today,' he quips. He pulls on the handle. 'Get in, you.'
'There he is!' someone roars. 'LIAM! Who is that with you, Liam?'
Liam and Zayn exchange a look before they both dive inside the cab. Zayn throws out the first address that comes to his mind.
Zayn is freaking out. He's got his chin cupped in his hand, face turned towards the window, and his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. He's keenly aware of Liam sitting a few feet away. Liam has been mumbling reassurances into his phone for the past fifteen minutes, no doubt trying to convince everyone in the world and their mum that he's fine.
(It's Harry who calls first in hysterics. Zayn can hear his voice even from where he's sat spewing words like 'kidnapping' and 'ransom' and 'creep' and is tempted to reach into the mobile and deck him. If Louis wants to date him, he better do it somewhere far from Zayn - like Antartica.
'Harry, Haz,' Liam interrupts sharply, shooting Zayn a penitent glance. 'I'm alright, stop worrying. Are you okay? Wait, what? Really? Oh Hazza, you massive dolt.'
Curiosity piqued, Zayn mouths, 'What?'
Liam mouths back, 'He kissed Louis and then punched him - What? No, no, you don't have to - um, wait a mo - Zayn?'
Zayn tilts his head.
'Where are we going?'
Shit. Zayn's eyes widen. 'My flat.' He bites his lower lip. 'It was the first thing that came to my mind. I can drop you off here if you want. Or - or wherever you want.'
Liam holds his gaze as he tells Harry in a soft voice, 'Don't bother with the car, Harry. I'll be fine.')
They are five minutes from his flat and Zayn is frantically trying to recall if he did the washing up (he's picturing a tower of dirty dishes on the sink). Did he bin the takeaway boxes or leave them scattered on the lounge? What about his laundry? He usually just drops his pants wherever. Zayn mentally slaps himself. There is no reason for Liam to enter his bedroom. None at all. Unless Zayn is a good host and offers Liam his bed. Without Zayn in it. But if Liam asks -
'Hey,' Liam calls softly, hand touching Zayn's arm. His fingers are warm and Zayn's entire being focuses on those five points of contact.
He gives an inquisitive 'Hmm?' or risk blurting out all the thoughts in his head if he says anything more than that.
'I'm sorry about what happened, with the paps and shit,' Liam says, lowering his head so the shadows shift across his face, hiding his eyes. His grip tightens slightly. 'You didn't have to do any of that. Like, you've been so great and I got you chased out of your own pub. I'm so fucking sorry, Zayn.'
The only thing that comes to Zayn's mind is: You're so hot when you swear.
He covers Liam's hand with his, squeezing gently. He already hates the contrite, distressed look on Liam's face.
'Liam,' he says, angling down so he can meet Liam's eyes. Zayn's neck twinges but he ignores it. 'It's cool, yeah? I don't exactly regret saving you from the insane paparazzi. Seriously. They're sharks and you're the helpless seal. It was like watching The Animal Planet.'
A weak smile tugs on Liam's lips. 'It's worse in America. They hide in the bushes or climb over your car. Sometimes they even sneak into your hotel shower and decide to give you the scare of your life. The last one's the Room 132 Incident, by the way, and she turned out to be a fan posing as a reporter.'
Zayn wrinkles his nose, appalled. 'It's always worse in America.'
'But they've got all the sun,' Liam points out. 'Everyone loves the sun.'
'Skin cancer, Liam,' Zayn reminds him and Liam throws his head back and laughs.
The Number Of Times I Made Liam Payne Laugh: 12.
But their mirth quickly fades and a loaded silence takes over. Zayn's neck is screaming murder but he's trapped in Liam's hooded eyes, glimmering with affection. His own are wide and he can only guess what his face is revealing (hope, desire, longing) when they are jerked back to the here and now as the taxi stops.
'Either you propose or get out,' the cabbie says, supremely amused, looking over his shoulder at them. 'This is your stop, innit?'
Somehow Zayn's fingers have managed to squirm their way in between Liam's without his notice. He pulls back reluctantly and reaches for his wallet.
Liam stops him. 'I've got it, yeah?' He hands the cabbie a couple of crisp twenties.
Zayn hates when his date pays for him, only Liam isn't exactly his date. Still. 'You don't have to - '
'Zayn, I got you involved in my mess,' says Liam firmly. 'The least I can do is pay for the cab.'
Liam doesn't look like he'll budge an inch (and how hot is that?) and Zayn sighs, pushing open the door. 'You're too nice for your own good.'
The cabbie snorts derisively and pokes his head out the window. 'I like this lad better than that French one you went out with last year. Stick to home, lad, although you're going to break me little girl's heart if you're with this one.'
'Cabbies, worse than bartenders,' Zayn mutters as the cab drives away. He digs out his keys.
Liam looks around him with a faint smile. 'Might take his advice,' he remarks casually, sticking his hands into his pockets.
Zayn drops his keys. He fusses with them for a while, head down, as an excuse to hide his burning cheeks. He can feel Liam's gaze on him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. A cold breeze eases the fire on his face as he unlocks the front door and steps inside.
There is no lift so they take the stairs, the hush from earlier returning but the tension growing tenfold. Zayn clenches and unclenches his hands. There are so many thoughts in his head he can barely keep up. The sound of Liam's footsteps slightly out of sync with Zayn's is loud in his ears.
They reach his door. The 12C tacked on is crooked and fading. Zayn's keys jangle noisily. With his hand on the handle, Zayn grimaces and warns, 'My flat's quite small, and the floor creaks, and um, it's rather messy right now. Not exactly the five-star accommodations you're used to.'
Liam brushes his hand on Zayn's shoulder fleetingly. 'It's fine, Zayn. If you want, I could go. I mean, I've imposed enough.'
Zayn huffs; as if he's going to let Liam leave now. He just needed to speak to lessen the anxiety in his belly since he doesn't know what will happen in the privacy of his flat.
'You'll be chased by the media again if I send you away, and I bet Harry will track me down and skin me alive,' Zayn says lightly, turning the knob.
When they're inside, Zayn flicks on the light and he breathes a soft sigh of relief when no takeaway cartons, soiled dishes, or dirty socks greet them.
Liam removes his trainers and pushes them to the side with his foot. He follows Zayn to the lounge obediently but his gaze flits around with blatant interest.
Zayn wonders what Liam thinks of the place. He knows Liam had grown up in a humbler environment than Zayn did but became famous (and rich) at the age of eighteen, so he must not have any experience with grotty flats and dodgy flatmates and worrying about the heater.
'I like it,' says Liam with a smile. 'Cosy.'
Zayn rolls his eyes. 'Stop being so nice, it's freaking me out. The flat's awful and the neighbours - '
'You slept with my boyfriend!'
'You stole mine first, you cunt!'
' - right on cue,' says Zayn wryly, 'are shamelessly loud. It's just terrible but it's home.'
Liam chuckles and crosses his arms. 'That's what I mean. It's got that lived-in feeling, you know? Mine's very bare and clinical. I usually kip over Harry's when I'm home. God, that's so cliché, right? But actually, Harry and I used to share a flat before realising we were better off on our own because we already spend most of our time with each other at work. Also, Harry's a neat freak and I like to make a mess once in a while.'
Zayn wants to know more. Everything.
He coughs and pads towards the kitchen. 'Do you want something to drink? Water?'
Liam shakes his head mutely and Zayn stops. Liam is staring at the floor, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Zayn grips the back of the sofa, feeling at a loss. He honestly has no idea what to say or do next, but he knows what he wants and if some higher power gives it to him, Zayn will be forever grateful. He'll even give to charity. Be less mean. Stop smoking. Recycle.
Take a chance, Zayn reminds himself. He squares his shoulders. 'Li - '
'I like you,' Liam blurts out, peering at Zayn with a tiny frown. 'A lot.'
Zayn gulps down the Fuck at the tip of his tongue. His heart knocks against his ribs in an attempt to offer itself to Liam, rattling him from corner to corner.
'But - '
Oh.
Liam scrubs his hands over his face. 'I fancy you like mad,' he repeats, and he really should stop because now it hurts Zayn to hear it, 'but my life is so crazy. I travel all the time and I'm rarely at home. I don't even get to see my family as much as I want to and I just know that if I start something with you, it will mean something. I can't explain why. Zayn,' he exhales, looking lonely and entreating, 'I'm sorry. Anything serious or even casual is out of the question right now and, and I don't date fans. It's the Golden Rule we - Haz and I - decided after what Danielle - ' Liam cuts himself off and his shoulders slump.
'I should have said so in the beginning and I kept meaning to tell you but then you'd say or do things that made me swallow my words. I've never felt so at ease with someone I haven't known my entire life before. You make me want to break all the rules. There's something about you, Zayn, and I want to. I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you, but I mustn't. I can't.'
Silence.
Zayn stares at Liam's sad, beautiful face for a long moment and then whispers, 'I have a spare toothbrush you can use. Let me go get it.'
He spins on his heel and flees to his bedroom. Zayn sags against the door and tips his head back. His vision is blurry. 'Fuck,' Zayn mumbles, digging his knuckles into his eyes, 'fucking hell.'
Of course Liam is right. He claims there's something special about Zayn but ultimately Zayn is just another fan. He's not worth enough to break the Golden Rule (he heard the capital letters) for, to convince Liam to try and take a chance like Zayn had - and look how well that's worked out for him.
All night Liam has been giving him encouraging signals and suddenly he takes them back? Fuck him, then, Zayn thinks angrily and thumps the back of his head to clear his thoughts.
Zayn's just another pathetic fan who won't say no to a one-time fuck with Liam Payne even now.
Sneering at himself, Zayn heads to the bathroom to get Liam his bloody toothbrush. He is halfway across the room when the door flings open without warning. Liam stands in the doorway, eyes focused on him.
Zayn stiffens, all too aware of his damp cheeks. Before he can even think of what to say, Liam stalks forward, cups his face, and kisses him.
Stunned, Zayn holds himself still until Liam softens the kiss and slides his tongue between Zayn's lips; they part almost instantly.
'Bugger my rules,' Liam tells him, nipping at Zayn's mouth in apology. 'I fancy you and I'd very much like to see where this goes.'
Zayn can't push him away because Zayn's an idiot, hands already twisting in the soft material of Liam's jumper to keep him in place, but he still grumbles out an annoyed, 'Dickhead,' that prompts Liam to brush their noses together.
'Sorry,' murmurs Liam, slotting his mouth over Zayn's again.
'You're lucky you're Liam Payne,' says Zayn. He takes a step back, then another, and another, dragging Liam with him by his pullover and snogging him thoroughly at the same time.
Liam breaks away with a breathless giggle. 'I don't know what that means!'
'Sure you don't, babe.' Deprived of Liam's mouth, Zayn instead bites and sucks on the birthmark that's tormented him for years because Zayn figures he's allowed now. The thought makes his cock twitch. He can see and touch and taste every part of Liam. It almost feels like a religious epiphany.
'Zayn, come on,' whimpers Liam, a sound Zayn wants in his playlist as soon as possible. Liam grinds into him with a tight roll of his hips.
'Yeah, alright,' he agrees, just as out of breath. Zayn is so astoundingly happy that he doesn't give a fuck when Liam crumples his perfectly styled hair in his hands and nudges his head up for another wild kiss.
Not even remotely a morning person, Zayn wriggles away from the soft lips trailing down the middle of his back. 'Grmphhl,' he mumbles irritably, pushing his face into the pillow that smells wonderful and new, like cinnamon.
'Babe, I gotta go,' someone whispers into his ear, the voice rough and low, and Zayn's had that voice singing in his ear for years.
Zayn sniffs and curls into a ball. 'Bye then,' he grunts, even though he doesn't want the voice to go, ever.
A chuckle, just as good as clever lyrics. 'Good to know I'll be missed.' Gentle palms tilt his head sideways and a kiss is placed on his mouth, even better than Zayn's favourite song.
When Zayn properly wakes up, stretching and savouring the soreness resulting from fantastic sex, does everything come rushing back. Zayn's eyes snap open and he sits up, before going, 'Ow, ow,' when his bum throbs.
A second later, the biggest, sappiest, most incredulous smile splits open Zayn's face and he grabs his pillow - cinnamonLiamLiam - and muffles his scream with it. He's entitled to show a little happiness.
His joy is short-lived, however, when he discovers that Liam left already and Zayn missed it. Zayn checks his clock. 12:15. No wonder the other side of the bed is stone cold.
'Shit,' Zayn groans, flopping back down on the mattress, arm over his eyes. He'd rebuffed Liam's attempts to say goodbye too. Zayn is the worst. Liam must be having second thoughts by now and Zayn doesn't even know Liam's number so he can ring and convince the other man that no, really, he's only cranky when he wakes up (which is, admittedly, a big fat lie). Zayn throws his arms wide in a tantrum and feels something wrinkle under his wrist.
He turns sideways. One of his crumpled sketches is pinned down by his hand. Zayn lifts up on one elbow and grabs the paper. Scribbled underneath the anatomical study Zayn had done on the male sexual organ a few weeks ago is Liam's slanted writing:
This is really good. I love the shading. Quiet reallistic. hope you were in a good mood when you drew this. I'd hate to see how small you draw my dick if your cross with me :)
This is my number btw. Ring me anytime yeah? would have checked your phone for yours but you pushed me away when I asked permisson. I'm hurt Zain. Zayn? Zane? I really need to know so please tell me when you text!
Unfourtunately I'm busy today but maybe we can have dinner tom? It could be like a regular date if your not into the whole valentines thing but hopefully you are :D
ps: this is Harry's number give it to your mate Louis. I reckon the fireworks will be specktacular.
pps: I'm sure their are spelling mistakes here. sorry I suck at spelling :( I swear I'm a grown man
ppps (!): on my way out and found this drawing of me, the one made to look like a jigsaw puzzle. Its brilliant! don't know why it's in the bin so I took it hope you don't mind :D
pppps: sleep well
Zayn goes through a cycle of emotions as he reads the note for a second, third, and fourth time. There's amusement, surprise, excitement, glee, relief, and embarrassment (and a small hint of mockery since spelling is effortless for Zayn, but mostly it's buried by oh my God why so adorable). Zayn can't help but giggle because he's never sincerely celebrated Valentine's Day before and now he has the perfect date for it. He can probably bribe Louis to take his shift again, especially since he's got Harry's number as his trump card.
He commits Liam's number to memory before reaching for his mobile (goes to search for it in the mess on the floor only to find that his clothes have been neatly folded and placed next to his laptop on the small table by the window; his mobile sits on top of his trousers and Zayn laughs long and loud and adoringly) but then pauses when he sees the ten missed calls and twenty-five messages blinking on the screen.
He opens the latest one with a feeling of dread.
From: Waliya
OMG ZAYN YOU KNOW LIAM PAYNE?
'Oh God,' Zayn mutters as a horrible idea occurs to him. He reads the messages before that and they express the same disbelief, congratulations, and teasing because apparently everyone in his life knows about his infatuation with Liam.
The text from Cher explains everything.
Check Tumblr mate you're all over it! And there's an article already on ONTD and from Perez Hilton: Liam Payne's New Beau-friend? You're famous! Well, by association but we'll take it.
Zayn's hands grow sweaty. He should have expected it, really. They'd been photographed getting into the taxi together, and who knows how many people took their picture when they'd been chatting in the pub. Zayn swallows and firmly shoves the anxiety away. If he wants to be with Liam (very fucking much), then he should get used to it. He knows he'll definitely go to pieces about all of this but now's not the time.
From: Louis
Tell me you slept with him. If you didn't then I'll be justified in kicking your ass. Btw you were right about Harry being a wanker I hate him I hate him I haaaaaate him and his dimples
Zayn taps out a quick reply.
If I slept with him it's none of your business. Are you sure? Because I might possibly have Harry's mobile number but if you hate him then I'll just chuck it. He's a prat anyway.
He hits send, glances at the note resting on his lap, and hurriedly opens a blank text.
Lou. I'm on bloody ONTD and I have a date with LIAM tomorrow. Is this really my life???
To Niall he sends:
Thank you thank you thank you you are my favourite forever! Love you Nialler.
He cocoons himself in the duvet and closes his eyes. His mind's a jumble of keyboard-smash thoughts and exclamation points but Zayn tries to focus on just Liam instead. Easy. A smile curves his lips, that shivery giddy feeling expanding in his chest again, and it takes a few seconds before Zayn notices his mobile vibrating.
From: Louis
YOU SLAG! So proud of you, Zayn. So the abs: real or photoshopped? And did you lick them? You had better! Yes, Yes Zayn, welcome to your life starring Katherine Heigl and Hugh Grant (guess who you are!) And NO NEVER! I want to forget Harry and his dimples even exist. DON'T give me his number. THROW it away. DELETE it.
'Subtle, Lou,' Zayn chuckles. 'Also, no bloody way I'm Hugh Grant. I'll take Colin Firth any day.'
From: Niall
Good on ya mate. I knew you'd get on s'why I told Liam about the pub. Love you too you crazy bastard.
Zayn loves his life.
13 Feb 9:32am
@Liam_Payne
Thanks a bunch to the very nice lads at 1D. Best Tropicana I've ever had.
13 Feb 9:44am
@StylesCommaHarry
I hate you @Liam_Payne. How could you???
13 Feb 10:12am
@Liam_Payne
:) Love you too @StylesCommaHarry
13 Feb 10:14am
@StylesCommaHarry
I also hate your smileys. That's so immature @Liam_Payne
13 Feb 9:45am
@GrimshawShow
@StylesCommaHarry @Liam_Payne Now now lads, not online!
13 Feb 10:02am
@StylesCommaHarry
Get a life @GrimshawShow #Sadoldman #Foreveralone
15 Feb 2:05am
@Liam_Payne
Wow it's late and I'm knackered but what a night! Happy Valentine's Day again, Z <3