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o1.
It's late December and they're both running late, a full day of interviews and radio performances and meet and greets with people that Liam can't even remember off the top of his head, even though he know that he probably should. The wake up call to the room they're staying in came forty-five minutes late, and by the time they're both packing up and ready to go, the car's and the others are waiting for them. Liam steps outside, to join the other three, looking a bit too long at Niall who's munching happily on a bagel and coffee. Pulling his arms around himself a bit tighter, he shivers as the nip of the wind hits the back of his neck, a yawn hitting him and making him even chillier.
"Here," Zayn says, pushing a hot cup into his hands, the steam and the smell of what can only be described as perfection hitting him before he even has time to blink and realize what has happened, or that Zayn had even disappeared from his side on the way down from the room.
Liam makes a face, a grin pulling at his cheeks, taking a sip of the too hot coffee which immediately warms him from deep within, positive that it's just the beverage that does it. "You are the best," he murmurs, lips pressed against the plastic lid, ignoring the obvious barbed comments from Louis about why didn't Zayn get one for all of them. Zayn flips him off, muttering about only having two hands, and Louis is still grumbling as Harry grabs onto his wrist, pulling him away in the direction Zayn had come from.
He watches as Zayn takes a sip of his own coffee, watches him mumble something to Niall and begin to laugh and roll his eyes as the other boy wanders off in hopes of finding something else to eat before the driver comes to collect them. Coffee and sugar and milk and something else he can't find the words to describe on his lips, Liam smiles softly as he looks at Zayn, meeting his eyes. "And to think that it just take a coffee to win me over like that. Who would have though?"
Zayn looks up at him, watching him curiously, before his mouth pulls into a slight smile, his shoulders rolling into a shrug. Effortless, that's the word that comes to Liam's mind as he takes it all in. Everything about Zayn is effortless movements and easy smiles and quick laughs that hit him in places he never knew existed until now. "It's what I do best," he admits after a beat, teeth grazing over his bottom lip as if he's pondering something for a moment, before smiling again.
Liam can only blink, because he doesn't know how to react, and stares for a moment at his smiles. Switching his coffee to his other hand, running his forefinger and thumb together, hands warm and needing something else to keep them warm in return, he takes a step forward, before tucking his fingers against the collar of Zayn's jacket, curling them up against the base of his neck, memorizing the way that Zayn trembles slightly against the new sensation of warmth against him. He opens his mouth to try and find the words to say, but only a soft "Thank you" comes out, quickly pressing his lips against the corner of Zayn's mouth.
o2.
Being in a band definitely has it's perks, and Liam wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Except, well, maybe for when they're stuck on the tour bus for who know how long and having a little thing call personal space seems to be a thing of the past. It means bunks, it means tight space, it means being in each other's faces every minute of the day.
Sometimes literally.
There's enough bunks for all of them to each have their own place to sleep, but somewhere along the way, the place got so messy and cramped that one of the bunks became the designated place to store any extra crap they have, because God knows they can't be bothered to put any of it away when they're too busy trying to convince their driver to stop at every possible rest stop.
Since there's only four bunks, two of them have to share every night. It'd be easier to just clean the crap out of the fifth, he thinks sometimes, but he's not one to complain. Early in, a sort of unwritten rule falls into place. Harry and Louis share one night, who laugh and smile and have no problem with it as they seem to just fit against one another, their bodies made to work together and fit that way, and if Liam wakes up in the middle of the night and looks over and the curtain to that bunk is closed, he just closes his eyes and turns over, not thinking anything of it in the slightest. The next night, Zayn and Liam have to share. Liam wants to know what makes Niall so damn special he gets a bunk to himself the whole time, but when he's forced to share with him one night and ends up on the floor finding out that Niall kicks in his sleep the hard way, he doesn't say anything else.
Every time he shares with Zayn, the two go to sleep, facing opposite ways and trying to keep their distance from one another, although it's near impossible in a crowded space like this. Yet more often than not, Liam will wake up up in the morning, his legs tangled with Zayn's, scissored together as their limbs become a tangled mess of an embrace, sharing a pillow and body space with Zayn.
It's not quite dawn as Liam looks out the window, the only thing in sight for miles being open road and the heavy horizon in the background, a deep grey color starting to light up the sky. He tries to turn over slightly, not wanting to wake Zayn up, which is difficult considering that one of Zayn's hand is tangled in his shirt, grabbing a fistful of material. The slightest movement Liam makes shifts the bunks and rocks Zayn a bit, and he winces, settling back down immediately.
"Shit, sorry," Liam mumbles, his fingers reaching up to run through Zayn's hair, threading through it and brushing it away from his face as his eyes open, soft and unfocused with sleep. Zayn doesn't say anything, just shifts even closer, his body pressing up against Liam's to the point where Liam can feel the sharp angles of hips meeting hips. He presses his face into the hollow of Liam's neck, lips brushing over the skin and his breath warm.
"Liam," he says, and Liam can feel the smile against his skin, even though it's more than clear that Zayn's not really awake. It's early in the morning, impossibly early, and yet now Liam is more awake than ever as he can hear it in his head. It's right there, and he knows he should just say it, but he can't bring himself to. The moment's quickly gone, and he just lays his head back against the pillow, listening to the even sound of Zayn's breathing and watching the rise and fall of his chest.
o3.
It's pretty warm for March, which is a bit of a blessing considering that the charity festival they were playing at was outdoors. Not that that would've stopped them, anyways. Playing to a live audience is one of their fortes and it feels like it's been ages since they've been on a stage this big, playing to a group so alive. As soon as Liam steps into the arena, already hearing the long guitar chords that echo and the steeping melodies of the piano thrum through the venue, he feels alive again. He feels at home.
They're the last group to go on, because they're supposed to be the 'big name group' to attract the majority of the fans and hopefully attract the biggest number of donations. The set list is comprised of five songs, and as they're waiting in the wings, watching as the stage is put together, Liam looks out and is slightly stunned by how far the crowd seems to go on and on. It's just people upon people upon people, and no matter how often he tells himself that he's going to get used to this eventually, the fact that all of these people are here to see them - listen to them - leaves him speechless. Breathless, even.
"Not getting caught up in some nerves now, are you?" he hears behind him, and there's a warm hand cupping the back of his neck, and he already knows who it is without even having to turn around. Zayn is smiling quietly, his lips pressed together in a smile as he looks out as well, and all Liam can do is take in his profile for everything it is - the curve of his lips and the slope of his nose and the angles of his jaw...and it's not till Zayn turns back to face him that he realizes he's been watching him the entire time. Zayn's smile grows as Liam feels himself blush slightly, and the other boy leans in, squeezing his shoulder in an exchange that to anyone else would seem beyond simple. But Liam knows. He always knows, because he knows Zayn.
As soon as they hit the first chorus of What Makes You Beautiful, it's obvious that something is...something's off. Underneath the cheering is a darker sound, an angry one, a mean on that's beginning to swallow the excited yelling and screaming and cheering and cast it's shadow over the entire arena. Liam knows they've been booed before, he understands that there's people out there that have issues with them and who they are and the music they make, and he knows more than that there's nothing he can do about it.
By the time they're heading into One Thing, it's growing louder. Angrier. It's overtaking the entire crowd, and it's almost like watching a car crash. He knows that it's going to turn ugly soon...chaos delving deep and coming up like it's never been unleashed. He looks out over the crowd, glancing at the others who either seem oblivious to what's happening, or are doing their best to try and ignore it. Niall's on his right, and Liam can see the worry as he bites down on his lip. Louis's on his left, and for a moment, they lock eyes, as if Louis is trying to tell him to calm down. Then it's gone, as Louis pulls him mic away from his face and his expression changes quickly to fear as his eyes look over Liam's shoulder, yelling about a bottle.
As Liam turns, following where Louis' eyes are, all he can see at first is something blue flying through the air, and if anything hadn't been said, he would've just guessed it to be another article of clothing thrown upon the stage by one of their many enthusiastic fans. But it's not, and he knows that it's not, and he can't do anything except watch, the song slowly dying out apart from the background, as the bottle flies forward, taking Zayn by surprise as it hits him in the head and knocking him backwards, his mic dropping to the ground as he crumbles down afterwards.
The music cuts out quickly, and at first all Liam can hear is the yelling still, his eyes still fixed on Zayn. But as he doesn't get right back up, doesn't pull himself back up to his feet and laugh or make a joke or do anything except lay there, all Liam can hear is his own heart pounding in his ears, before he's pushing past Niall and Harry. As he crouches down, looking at Zayn who's blinking at him blearily but not really seeing him at all. "Zayn," Liam calls out, his hand grabbing at his clothes, before he's running it along his neck and over his face, looking at the quickly forming bruise just above his eye.
Zayn just groans, closing his eyes again as he suddenly goes pale, and as Liam can hear Louis making snarky comments to the audience about throwing bottle back at them, he pulls Zayn's arm over his shoulder, pulling him up to his feet. The dead weight almost knocks Liam over at first, but Niall's there to grab Zayn's other side, and for a brief moment Liam wonders how long he had been there, if he had seen everything that Liam was feeling.
Liam drops Zayn into a chair and crouches in front of him, an ice pack shoved into his hands by Niall who looks just as lost as he does on what to do. Zayn looks at him, and probably actually seeing him for the first time, before he winces, swearing under his breath. Liam notices how his voice is thick as he does, which pretty much confirms that he has a concussion, but he smiles anyway despite feeling like he was going to throw up. "I thought your relationship with the lovely beer bottle was strictly platonic. Because from what I just saw, she clearly wants more from you. That show of passion...wow," he mumbles, gingerly pressing the ice pack against Zayn's forehead, his other hand finding it's way up to cup the other boy's jaw, thumb running lines over his cheek comfortingly. He does is best to keep his tone calm and teasing, afraid that if he doesn't he'll end up dwelling too much on it and not stopping until he found the idiot who threw the bottle in the first place.
Zayn lets out a raspy laugh, his head dropping against Liam's shoulder. "You worry too much about me," he says quietly, still laughing slightly, and Liam can feel the vibrations rumble through every bit of him.
Liam snorts, shaking his head. "I hope you would do the same for me if I was hit in the head with a bottle." As Zayn picks his head up to look at him, finally meeting his eyes, his own smile fades slightly. The other boy's eyes are big and dark and wide and not right, but .
"It's because you love meeeee," Zayn sings, grinning widely as his hand comes up to cup Liam's cheek, thumb clumsily brushing across his bottom lip.
Biting down on the lip hard enough to draw blood, Liam doesn't say anything - just brushes some hair out of Zayn's face and fixes the ice pack, while reminding himself to breathe.
o4.
It's dark in the hotel room and for some reason Liam can't stop laughing right now, because with every time that Zayn tells him to be quiet, he starts to laugh again, even when Zayn goes as far to cover his mouth with a hand, Liam can't stop, can't stop fucking giggling.
Because they're used to blatantly ignoring the 'do not disturb' signs that they hang on the doors, barging in uninvited without any warning as they simply swiped their keys into each other doors. However, tonight when Zayn and Liam went to Harry's door, seeing the sign and figuring it was just Harry trying to hoard the room to himself, they walked in, not expecting to see his bare ass as soon as they walked in. Nor were they expected to see the long limbs of someone else stretched out underneath him, heavy breaths the only sounds filling the room.
Without even thinking, they slammed the door behind them, and then quickly hurried to the other room across the hall, Liam laughing hysterically as Zayn tackled him to the bed in an attempt to keep him quiet. "You want to deal with a sexually frustrated Louis right now?" he hissed in Liam's ear, his hand still clamped down over his mouth, which only made Liam laugh more, shaking underneath Zayn's hold. With a frustrated groan, Zayn turns, rolling over so he's on top of Liam, hand still pressed over his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" he asks, starting to laugh himself. Liam doesn't say anything, but just laughs more.
There's voices right outside the door, and rather than deal with whoever it is, Zayn just wants Liam to shut up so they'll appear invisible for a bit. Hurriedly, he presses his mouth over Liam's in an awkward kiss, their lips and teeth bumping as Liam continued to laugh for a moment until he realizes exactly what was happening. He stays still for a moment, before kissing back, slowly at first, then tangling one of his hands in the back of Zayn's hair as if he's afraid that if he lets go, this will all end too soon.
Zayn slowly pulls away, and he looks down at Liam, his eyes wide and questioning, almost like he's scared of what just happened. Like he's scared of how Liam's going to react to it all, and it's the most vulnerable he's seen him in ages. Liam doesn't say anything, but just curls a hand at the back of Zayn's neck, pulling him back down into a kiss as he grabs at the hem of his shirt.
It's like they're moving in slow motion at first, clothes being stripped off and shred onto the floor, lips traveling over newly exposed skin, shy smiles and soft laughs exchanged in a turn of events that was never supposed to happen. But as Liam looks up, watching and biting his lip as a jolt of pleasure hits him, hips bowing upwards and back arching off of the mattress as Zayn rolls his hips slowly again, there's a part of him that wonders if this is where the story was supposed to lead to. That through everything, through the past three years, it was just a long time coming.
His hands are wandering over every bit of Liam, almost like he was trying to memorize his body underneath his fingertips, pressing down just hard enough to leave soft, barely-there bruises against the skin. Bruises that Liam knows will be there tomorrow, will remind him of this all over again, and at the point all he can do is tighten his grip further in Zayn's hair, yanking him downward in an open-mouthed kiss. Zayn buries his face in Liam's neck, teeth grazing over skin as he rocks forward, pressing his hips against Liam's over and over, until Liam's falling apart at the seams, an string of incomprehensible noises fall from his lips.
Head falling back against the pillow as he took breaths, not saying a word as Zayn finally collapses to the bed beside him, Liam doesn't know what this means now. He doesn't know what's going to happen to them, or to their friendship, or what's even going to happen in the next five minutes. But right now is all he wanted, and as he looks at Zayn, he knows he wouldn't have taken anything back about what just happened.
♥
For something so monumental, it happens relatively normally. Although, looking back, Liam really isn't that surprised.
The telly is on in their hotel, and it's late, really late one night. Harry and Louis are tangled up in one bed, arms and legs wound together and chest rising and falling in sync. Niall's curled in an arm chair, hat dropping down over his eyes as his head starts to bounce, trying to fend off from sleep with every passing moment. Liam's laying down, his head pillowed against Zayn's thigh and blinking sleepily at the television.
He looks up at Zayn, only to notice that the other boy isn't watching the TV but is instead watching him, frowning and biting his lip as he does. Liam opens his mouth, about to ask what's wrong, but he doesn't - chooses to wait instead and rolls off of Zayn, leaning up on an elbow.
"I'm in love with you."
The words hit him out of nowhere, and for a moment, Liam is pretty sure that he can't find his next breath, because those are the words that he'd never expected to hear, never thought he would hear. And yet they're right there in front of him, and Zayn's saying them and beating him to the punch and he's right there and this is real.
Yet, somehow, it doesn't feel as big or monumental as it should. "Okay," Liam whispers, his voice shaking slightly as he sits up more, blindly reaching out and finding Zayn's hand within an instant. It doesn't feel strange or weird or different...because those words were there all along, just waiting unspoken between them. "Okay," he whispers again, sitting up with a pulling at his lips. "I'm - me too. I love you too," he says quietly, smiling as Zayn runs a finger along his jaw,
Liam lets out a nervous laugh, because what the hell, what is happening, what is this. All the words that Liam could never bring himself to say are finally out in the open and they're mutual and he feels like he can't breathe...until Zayn's hands are tangling itself themselves in the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him close and kissing him harder than he's ever been kissed before and Liam doesn't think he's ever experienced something that seems so real, feels so real.
Until it hits him - this is real. He kisses Zayn back like he's wanted to, like there's no reason for them to have to hide in some dark hotel room or pretend that what's there doesn't exist. It's desperate and needy and hungry and full of every words he has to say to Zayn right now but can't.
So he lets the kiss speak for itself, holding on until he can't kiss anymore, because every that needed to be said has been said, and all needs now it Zayn.
That's all he's ever needed.