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Liam was wiping down the bar when the front door opened, the place still empty enough that he could hear the chime above it. “Good ev-” he started, stopping when he saw who it was. The silver hair was new, but the face was the same. “Lou, your mate’s here,” he shouted to the other bartender who was just coming in from the back with some fresh bottles of tequila and margarita mix.
“Good thing I brought this up then,” Louis said, smiling at Liam before turning to his friend, and pouring mix into a blender with ice. “Hey, Zee. The usual?” Zayn nodded, glancing down the bar towards Liam, smiling. Zayn lifted his hand in a small wave that Liam turned his back on.
Liam wasn’t normally rude, but he already knew what the night ahead was going to bring. Louis would keep giving Zayn brightly coloured drinks, and, by closing time, Zayn would be falling down drunk. When it was time for Liam to tell him to leave, he would hit on him with the worst lines, slurred by alcohol.
He’d been dealing with the cheesy lines for months. Those had been easy to ignore, but, last week, Zayn had stood from his stool, and fallen. Liam, being Liam, had caught him before he’d hit the ground. Once he was stable on his feet, Liam tried to let go, but Zayn had held on tighter, trying to kiss Liam.
Don’t get Liam wrong, Zayn was an attractive guy. Totally the kind of guy that Liam would go up to in a club, except for the constant excessive drinking. Liam didn’t drink much, health problems from his youth, although cleared up now, never allowed him to develop the taste for alcohol that most people his age had. He would have a beer now and again, but had never actually drank to get drunk.
Liam grabbed a rack of glasses, backing himself out of the kitchen to return to the bar, the weight of the glasses straining his muscles. He nearly dropped the rack when he reached the bar, shooting Louis an apologetic look. “Alright, mate?” Louis asked, popping the cap on a bottle and sliding it down to Liam’s friend Niall who had come in while Liam was in the back.
“Yeah.” Liam started wiping down the counter, glancing up when the door chimed again. “Harry!” he shouted at the newcomer.
“How come you don’t greet Zayn like that?” Louis asked, staring at Liam, hands on hips, expression curious, yet irritated at the same time. Liam’s eyes shot to Zayn’s usual stool, but it was empty. “He’s in the loo. So?”
“Harry doesn’t get falling down drunk, and hit on me every time he’s in here,” Liam said, quietly. “Zayn makes me uncomfortable.”
Louis started laughing. “Zee? Drunk? Are you serious? The boy’s never touched a drop in his life.” Louis shook his head, laughing. “Dad was an alcoholic. Hates the stuff.”
“But all the drinks you give him every week,” Liam argued, jerking his head towards Zayn, who had just returned, and was slurping the last of a bright red margarita.
“Virgin,” Louis said, laughing. “Just like him.”
“What?” Liam was certain that he’d not heard him correctly.
“You heard me,” Louis said. “Nice guy. Give him a chance, yeah? Getting a bit tired of seeing his hurt eyes every time that you pass.”
Liam was confused, but he did manage to smile at Zayn the next time their eyes met. He chuckled when Zayn blinked, his smile growing even wider. Zayn kept to his stool at the end of the bar for the night. When it was time to close, Liam sent Louis to the kitchen while he approached Zayn.
Settling onto the stool next to him, he passed Zayn a bottle of water. “Heya, handsome,” Zayn slurred. Liam laughed loudly. “I like that sound.”
“Wanna hear a story?” Liam asked, smiling when Zayn nodded, a cautious look in his eyes. “So, there’s this guy that comes in every week and gets really drunk, yeah?” Liam looked at Zayn, his eyes widening as Liam talked. “He hits on me, making me feel terribly uncomfortable, to the point I really can’t even bring myself to look at him.”
“I’m sorry,” Zayn mumbled, picking at the label on his water bottle.
Liam kept talking as if Zayn hadn’t said anything. “Which is a shame, because he’s a really nice looking bloke.” Liam shrugged when Zayn’s jaw dropped. “Except, it turns out, this bloke has never been drunk in his life. In fact, he’s never even had alcohol in his life, even one time.” Liam turns completely on his stool to face Zayn. “So, I’m trying to figure out why he pretends to be drunk to hit on me?”
Zayn’s head dropped to the bar. “I didn’t know I was making you that uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted, but why did you do it?” Liam laid a hand on Zayn’s shoulder, smiling when he sat up, to turn and look at Liam.
“It was easier. If you flat out rejected me, I could blame the alcohol, and no harm done. Except, you never rejected me. Until last week, you were always really kind, so once I’d started, I couldn’t figure out how to stop.”
Liam was chuckling. “You threw yourself at me, begging me for one kiss last week!” Liam pointed out, bopping Zayn on the end of the nose.
Zayn covered his face with his hands. “I know. I said I was sorry.”
“And I told you, apology accepted.” Zayn spread his fingers, peeking at Liam from between. “However, if you really feel that terrible about it, I know how you can make it up to me.”
“How?” Zayn’s hands dropped from his face, expression hopeful.
“You can take me to see the new Captain America movie,” Liam said, smiling, tapping Zayn’s “Zap” tattoo.
“Deal,” Zayn said, sliding off the stool to his feet. “Thanks, Liam.”
“No problem,” Liam returned, scribbling his number on a napkin before offering it to Zayn. When Zayn tried to take it, Liam wouldn’t let go. A small tug of war ensued, leaving Zayn laughing when he finally took possession. “If you’re lucky, and the date goes well, maybe you’ll get a kiss.”
“Just one?” Zayn asked, his eyebrow quirking as he tucked the napkin into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.
“To start,” Liam quipped back, placing a hand on the small of Zayn’s back to escort him out of the bar.