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Liam thinks that Zayn smells like home. And cigarette smoke and comic books. And something else. Something more vague than that. Something that makes Liam feel a little more welcome than he should. A lot more welcome, actually (he isn’t sure what it is; not yet, at least. He intends to find out). And maybe this is all a little creepy to be thinking. Okay, a lot creepy - thirty-seven shades of creepy - but that doesn’t particularly matter because, to hell with it. Liam feels what he feels and, well, this feeling is not terrible in the least bit. But then Liam’s mother is announcing that “Zayn is family now,” and that Liam needs to treat him like a brother, and so do the others (the others aren’t present at the moment; but there are three of them. Louis, Niall, Harry) in a stern tone - probably the sternest tone he’s ever heard come from his mother. Right there, in his own living room, Liam’s heart shrivels up and dies on the spot because he certainly would not kiss his brother on the lips (nor anywhere else for that matter) and that seems to be the only thing he’s thinking of doing with/to Zayn at the moment.
And, Christ. Zayn has tattoos. Like, actual tattoos. And, okay, WOW, they’re everywhere, and the thought of Liam running his hands over them (all of them) and maybe even snogging the hell out of Zayn is so back in his mind. He’s mentally scolding himself. Brother, Liam. This bloke is your brother. Zayn starts to chew nervously on his bottom lip and looking up through THOSE eyelashes - which is so not helping Liam one bit - and it’s so adorably pathetic that Liam nearly dies along with his heart. “Hey,” Zayn says, though his lips are hardly moving and you can barely tell it’s him who’s speaking. Liam’s mother leaves the pair as Zayn goes and sits beside Liam on the couch. “I’m Zayn. Zayn Malik.” And, okay, Liam’s screwed if Zayn has that accent on top of everything else.
“I-I’m Liam. Payne. Uh… so like, you’re my brother now? For good, and stuff? Because sometimes mum says ‘brother’ and means ‘brother-for-now’ and, just like, I wanna be sure if you’re staying for a long while.” And Liam absolutely knows he’s screwed if this is what comes out of his mouth every time he tries to talk to the boy.
“Oh. Uh. I think I’m for good? So, you’re stuck with me I guess. I mean, I’m not positive or anything. I wasn’t really paying attention, but I’m half-sure that I’m staying. I mean, if that’s all right with you, I guess…”
“Oh, yeah, no I’m; yeah, that’s great, actually. Brilliant,” Liam mutters. And it isn’t like he doesn’t mean it or anything because what he’s seen of Zayn is brilliant and spectacular, but that’s just it. Maybe he’s a little too great for everyone’s own good (and Liam’s safety, that plays a major role). So, as politely as he can, Liam excuses himself and trots off to find Louis.
+
Louis is one of Liam’s three (now, it’s apparently four) adopted brothers. He’s mad - completely and utterly mad - but, at the moment, Louis’s sort of Liam’s best friend (he always has been, and probably will be forever). Also, he’s seen Liam cry a million and seven times and it doesn’t really phase him anymore (unlike Niall, who’ll have a mini-panic attack and probably call for an ambulance. Or Harry, who’d order a pizza and just tell Liam to move because he’s blocking the telly). Louis’s been there from the start - as in, they met when Liam was seven and Louis was nearly ten. So Louis feels even more like home than Zayn does.
But, oh that’s just fabulous, Louis has got Niall pressed up against the bedroom wall when Liam walks in. It seems a little creepy to Liam. Creepier than thinking that Zayn smelled like comic books and cigarettes. It’s all Liam can do not to vomit - they’ve been brothers since they were nine years old; they actually though they were brothers for three years before Liam’s parents set them straight, and now they’re kissing in Louis and Liam’s shared bedroom, making sounds that brothers should not make in the same room as each other. Great.
Liam doesn’t bother with his manners (he thinks he kicked them out the front door before he came up here) and instead just throws himself onto his bed - which is thankfully far away from the Louis/Niall Porn Show - and groans until Louis breaks away from Niall and sighs. “Sorry, Nialler. I’ve got to go mother Liam now,” he says (he actually says that) and kisses Niall’s forehead before moving over to see what’s the matter.
“How long does it take to fall in love?” Liam asks against a pillow, and Louis just has to stroke his hair at how absolutely pathetic that sounds, so, naturally, he does. He’s about to answer with an ‘oh, Liam’ when Zayn walks through the door, his bags in hand.
+
Living with Zayn as a brother actually goes pretty smoothly for the first bit. He and Liam talk about superheroes and comics. Zayn talks about art and singing. Sometimes about writing, as well, and, all right, perhaps it isn’t going as smoothly as it should because Zayn still has that bloody accent and those amazing eyelashes and he seems to be subtly flirting with Liam (or is it just his imagination?). Liam wonders where the nearest bridge is so he can just fling himself off of it. Not necessarily in a suicidal way, but more like a god, I’m so sick of this way. THIS meaning Zayn of course, along with keeping Louis/Niall a secret (which kind of sucks because Liam is genuinely happy for them). Not to mention, he’s always dragged into Harry’s ongoing conversations about how much he loves Taylor Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Is and - ugh - Liam’s cried himself to sleep more times these past few weeks than he’s proud of.
+
And then, one Wednesday at some ungodly hour in the morning, Zayn comes into Liam’s room (Louis is now rooming with Niall and Harry’s with Zayn - at least, that’s where he’s supposed to be), smelling of home and comics and cigarette smoke, and, honestly, Liam shouldn’t still be scared of Zayn, but he is. Very much so.
So, when Zayn jumps into bed with a crying Liam, curling up beside the slightly younger boy (only by eight months) Liam flinches away, trying to not make a fool of himself, and not to touch Zayn, either. Which doesn’t work in the least bit since Liam’s pressed against a wall and Zayn has an advantage.
“I could hear you crying through the walls, Liam,” he says in this immensely saddened voice, pity seeping through his words. “I know that something’s wrong, so don’t try pretending it isn’t.”
Liam makes an unidentifiable noise that probably sounds like a cat being thrown into a blender (which describes how Liam feels at the moment). “I’m sorry,” Liam whispers into the wall.
“You have no reason to be sorry, Liam. It’s fine,” Zayn assures.
“Not what I meant,” Liam mutters as Zayn turns him around so that they’re face to face, pressing a light kiss to his brother’s forehead.
“Then what do you mean?” Zayn asks, running his fingers through Liam’s slightly overgrown and completely unruly hair.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Liam says, and before Zayn can press any further into it, he’s fast asleep on Zayn’s chest, his nostrils filling with the scent of home and comics and mystery.
+
A few nights later, Louis and Niall become LouisAndNiall.
It’s in the middle of dinner - spaghetti and meatballs - and they’ve been planning their coming out for weeks now (they told Liam simply because they tell Liam everything). It’s Liam’s father who brings up the whole “So, how’s it going with the ladies?” routine, and Liam honestly couldn’t despise him any more than he does now. Harry answers that he and Taylor are still going strong (adding in a hair flip and a cheeky grin). Liam says his relationship status is ‘nonexistent’, Zayn cheers that he’s a single pringle, reaching across the table to give Liam a high-five. And then it’s Louis who stands up and says - yells, actually; at the top of his lungs - “I love Nialler.”
At first, the others think it’s a joke. But then Niall’s blush gives it away, and Louis is leaning down to kiss Niall full on the mouth just to prove it.
Liam’s dad’s face goes into its Poker Mode while his mum’s lights up with joy as she badgers them with detail-demands. And it isn’t that Liam’s dad is homophobic or anything, but. Well. Two of his sons are dating each other, and it more likely than not counts as incest, even though they aren’t properly related.
“Excuse me,” his dad mumbles, getting up from the table abruptly and leaving the dining room to escape to God-Knows-Where (maybe Canada). He slams the front door on his way out, which brings tears to his mother’s eyes. She keeps them at bay, whilst Niall sobs away on Louis’ shoulder.
“He’ll get used to it,” Louis mutters into Niall’s blond hair. “Don’t worry.”
+
Liam’s dad does not get used to it, and, by the end of his month, his parents are well on their way to divorce. In fact, his mother had just announced the separation at dinner, and Liam was more than a little torn up over it. He had immediately excused himself from the table and bolted up to his room. He heard someone else follow him, and, oh hell, it was Zayn. Liam, surprisingly, doesn’t find it in him to care, so he just continued running up the stairs, which was in no way a smart thing to do because, halfway up, he tripped and landed face first onto the carpet.
Zayn was at his side then, pulling Liam up and leading him into the bathroom. When they got there, Zayn sat Liam on the sink and started to clean the boy’s bloodied lip. “C’mon, Li,” he’d said with this adorably sympathetic voice as Liam’s cheeks began to flood with tears. “You’ll be fine.”
Now, Liam’s crying into Zayn’s shirt on his own bed, Zayn shushing him in his angelic accent, telling him that It’ll be alright. Zayn no longer smells like cigarette smoke and it just makes Liam that much sadder.
+
Zayn and Liam are sent away with Liam’s father after the divorce. Neither of them are happy about leaving their brothers behind. Or moving in with Liam’s dad. Liam has to bite his tongue so he won’t cry.
Liam’s dad moves far, far away from Liam’s home. He supposes it’s now a good thing that Zayn smells like home, so at least he’ll have that to hold on to.
Zayn and Liam share a room at their new house. It looks absolutely horrid from the outside, battered and rundown, but it’s sort of cozy on the inside. And not as dingy. They’re room is big enough for two twin beds, a desk, and Zayn’s comic book collection. They’d basically been sharing clothes ever since Zayn moved in, so it was just a pile of mixed clothing on the bottom of the closet floor (they’re teenage boys; they don’t hang things up). Their bathroom can hardly hold all of Zayn’s hair products, and Zayn acts like it’s the end of the world when Liam tells him to put them all under the sink.
For the next week, their father searches for a job, doesn’t find one, and goes to the bar go get wasted every day (except on Sundays, when he just gets drunk at home). He doesn’t care if Zayn smokes, so he does; he doesn’t care if Zayn takes Liam to get a tattoo, so he does; he doesn’t care if Zayn and Liam get into fights at school (it’s usually because someone’s picking on the other), so they do. He just doesn’t care, and, most nights, it leaves Liam sobbing into Zayn’s shirt. At least the cigarette smell is back (even though, now, it’s so strong it’s repulsive). It smells a little more like Zayn. A little more like heaven.
+
All of a sudden, Liam’s dad starts to “care” again. And it isn’t caring at all; not really. It’s more of an “Oh, you got in trouble at school? C’mere. Maybe I can slap some sense into you” sort of thing, and it is terribly complicated to cover up a lot of the bruises on Liam, since his are twice as bad as Zayn’s (he’s always taking the rap for things that Zayn does like smoking on school property or getting into a fight with a classmate) and, well, people begin to become suspicious. Like, really suspicious. And sometimes his father gets bad enough that the two boys have to sleep outdoors on the patio to keep away from it all (even when it’s forty degrees out and Zayn and Liam have to huddle in close under the patio furniture and Liam’s tears freeze on his cheeks - and, okay, yeah Liam’s emotional. And, at times like those, Zayn has to sing Liam to sleep with a child’s lullaby, and Liam knows it’s pathetic, but it works). Zayn doesn’t smell like home, but the cigarette scent intensifies. Liam doesn’t like it, but he keeps quiet (for he is nothing if not polite).
+
It’s late one night when their father sort of loses it. He’s had a lot to drink and Liam and Zayn are moments away from bolting out the door and hiding under the picnic table, when their father slams Zayn up against the wall and punches him in the eye. Hard. And, when Liam goes to help Zayn up - like he always does - Liam is knocked back with a kick in the stomach and a punch in the mouth. Zayn yells his name with such anger that Liam isn’t sure how his father isn’t running for the hills as fast as he can.
Zayn seems to think that he should actually fight back, which Liam regards as an all around terrible idea, seeing as an all around terrible idea seeing as - in the movies - that never turns out well. And, as it turns out, Liam is right and Zayn is very, very wrong. With an apologetic glance towards his bloodied brother, Liam all but sprints out the back door, phone in hand, 999 already dialed. They go through the whole situation (“sir, calm down. Can you tell me where you are? Help is on the way” etc. etc.) and, by the end of it, Liam is honest-to-god sobbing, pleading with the gods that for the damned ambulance to hurry up because, from what Liam can see through the window, his brother is on the floor, a halo of blood around his head. It takes at least five minutes for the ambulance to arrive, and those five minutes slowly kill Liam. He’s hyperventilating and his phone is on the ground somewhere nearby, but he can’t be sure of where, since, after he hung up, he sort of threw it as far as he could (which really wasn’t very far because he couldn’t see through his tears very well).
Zayn is half-dead when they find him, and his father is already there, overdosed on… well, everything, actually. Mostly the alcohol, but other drugs were a large part of it, as well. Zayn makes it to the hospital all right, and he ends up needing a few stitches and a lot of rest. He takes an hour and thirty minutes to regain consciousness, and, when he does, he keeps asking for Liam, which is sweet and all that, but Liam’s sort of busy, talking to one of the short, old-lady social workers about where his mum lives and what her phone number is. When the doctor comes to retrieve him, Liam could cry with joy (but he’s done enough of that, so he just grins), and it must be something in his eyes that makes the social worker let him free for a moment. Or maybe it’s because she pities the fact that he lived with an abusive father for over half a year. Whatever it is, Liam doesn’t really care. He bolts down the corridor to the room that Zayn’s holed up in.
Zayn’s all right, bruised and battered and only half awake - but all right. And, if Liam’s honest, he’s still pretty beautiful, but his smell his gone, swapped out for the sterile scent of the hospital. Liam can’t wait until that’s gone because he isn’t the least bit fond of it.
When their mother arrives, she’s crying and apologizing and hugging the two, and their brothers aren’t doing any better, wrapping the pair in chokeholds until they realize that it might not be such a grand idea to do so. Louis plants a million light kisses all over Liam’s face, and he holds Zayn’s hand, saying he’ll kiss him when he gets better since it seems a little painful on Zayn’s side to kiss him now. Harry all but attacks Liam and Zayn both - never mind the pain - he’s on the verge of tears, sobs already escaping his lips. Niall acts like it’s nothing of a few seconds - all nonchalant and carefree - before he breaks down bawling, saying he’s sorry, he’s sorry because it’s all his fault. Zayn and Liam assure him that, no it isn’t, and that, even if it was, they’d forgive him.
It takes a few days until they can leave the hospital for good, and Liam’s mum has to rent a hotel room for the time being, though Liam never actually sees it. He never even leaves Zayn’s hospital room. This time, Zayn needs Liam. He sings Zayn to sleep, he kisses Zayn’s hair, he tells him everything’s going to be all right, even when they both know that nothing will be okay.
+
It tales a week and a half at their mum’s house for Zayn to start smelling like home again, and it’s a very long week and a half. Zayn and Liam don’t go to school that week - for Zayn, it was doctor’s orders; for Liam, he… well… just wanted to be by Zayn’s side - and they basically spend the week huddled together on the couch, watching old Disney movies and reruns of Friends. Zayn vows to never smoke again, and Liam just nods, nuzzling further into him. Liam vows to never be like his father, and Zayn hums in agreement. Liam makes a few silent promises to do something about this whole Pretty-Much-Being-In-Love-With-Zayn thing before the end of the week. Or the month. Or. Or the year?
But, either to Liam’s delight or horror (he hasn’t decided yet), Zayn beats him to it. One night, when he’s sliding into Liam’s bed, his lips sort of find Liam’s and start… moving. And, okay, wow. Kissing Zayn is better than he imagined it would be. It’s warm and wet and Zayn impossibly tastes like home and it is absolutely wonderful. But Zayn pulls away far too soon for Liam’s liking, saying sorry like a mantra and shaking his head. “I… I don’t know what came over me,” is his excuse. “Just. I am so sorry, forget it ever happened, okay? I just… I dunno. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long now, and I-”
Zayn attempts to continue, but miserably fails because the rest of his words are being swallowed by Liam. Their mouths move feverishly against one another’s, and Liam wonders if this is a dream, or maybe if he’s died and this is the afterlife (if kissing boys is all the afterlife consists of, Liam never wants to leave), but - whatever this may be - Liam doesn’t want it to end.
+
The gods are good to Liam, apparently, because it doesn’t stop, and one night ad dinner, he and Zayn become LiamAndZayn, and it goes over so much smoother than Louis/Niall did.
+
A few nights after, Liam lies in bed, the back of his head resting on Zayn’s chest, just thinking as he stares up at the ceiling. Zayn wakes up to find him like that in the morning, and he asks him what’s up.
“Nothing,” Liam says. “Just thinking of… home. I guess.” Which isn’t a lie. He was thinking of Zayn, and that’s home enough for him.
Liam turns his head in towards Zayn’s chest and inhales.
Comics, Vague-ness, and Home.
Always Home.