Chapter Text
“Honey, are you sure you don't need me to run out to the store and get you more underwear -”
“Mum,” Liam exclaims in embarrassment, eyes darting around him to make sure none of the other students around him have heard that over the shuffle of feet and excited chatter surrounding him. He feels his cheeks grow hot, and his mother frowns like she can feel it too.
Well she can, everyone around him can. The way he burns hotter than the summer sun above them drags the attention of his classmates to him, more so than the words spoken by his mother. Sometimes, he wishes he were like Zayn, able to hide from everyone’s sight just to avoid the irritated eyes narrowed at him.
“Everyone wears them, dear,” she sighs.
He ignores that, shaking his head as he drops his suitcases to find the key to his dorm room deep in his pocket. She has been fretting over everything he has packed all morning, insisting he needs more than five toothbrushes, unhappy with the fact that he wasn’t packing the whole medicine cabinet despite the fact there is an infirmary on campus. Even taking his shirts out from his suitcase and refolding them, fussing over and over about how I told you how to fold these properly, Liam.
“I have plenty,” Liam mumbles.
“Well, fine,” she sighs again. It is a noise he can’t wait to be away from for the next year. “You know, I can't believe Malay denied your request for a new dorm.”
Liam grimaces at the annoyed tone of his mother's voice as he opens the door. Their dorm hasn't changed any since he left, though he knows that is because Zayn doesn't spend much time in here over the summer unless he is in his room. He closes his eyes, trying to sense the other lad inside but he gets nothing.
“I'll have a talk with him -”
“Mum,” Liam says, as he grabs his suitcases. He avoids her eyes, knowing he is going to be scolded when she finds out that he didn't actually tell the Headmaster that his mother wanted him to be moved. “I don't need to move.”
“That Malik boy is a danger, honey.”
Liam huffs out a sarcastic laugh as he drops his bags in the entryway. His mother's eyes narrow as her hands plant firmly onto her hips, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered by the angered look on her face.
“Oh yeah, his invisibility is very life threatening. However the fact that I turn into an oven that makes other people feel like they are going to have a heat stroke is no worry at all.”
A patient look crosses his mother’s face as she reaches up to place a palm to his burning cheek. At least she has stopped flinching every time Liam’s temperature spikes up, though the redness of her own cheeks still bothers him.
“You are not harmful, honey. I will talk to Malay about this if you do not want to, have a good semester.”
Liam nods, tucking his fingers into his pockets. There is no point in furthering the discussion, since he knows his mother won’t listen to anything he has to say. He just hopes Malay won’t find him another dorm room. “Yeah, alright. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She looks past him, smiling softly. “Have a good semester, Scout.”
Liam flips around, eyes searching until he finds the tuft of coarse, black curly hair and faintly sees the outline of Scout’s facial features. Their skin is the same pale blue as the dorm walls, making them blend easily in.
Scout’s eyes open before they step forward, skin falling back to its normal dark shade of brown. “Oops.”
Liam chuckles before kissing his mum on the cheek. “See you.”
When she leaves, Scout comes over to help him with his bags, a grimace on their lips. “Sorry for eavesdropping. I couldn't help it, you made the room fuckin’ hot, man.”
Liam sighs. He always does. “It's alright. Just don't tell Zayn, yeah?”
“I got you,” they say, following after Liam towards his room. “I wonder why she hates the Maliks though, they're legends.”
Liam shrugs. He has always wondered the same thing, and he has asked a million times and has never gotten a proper response. Something to do with the amount of things they could do, how people who have too many powers were always dangerous. His mother just rambled on about how they couldn’t be trusted, though she never said why she felt that way.
It is ironic, since Zayn is probably the only person Liam trusts.
He had tried to keep it from her, the fact that Zayn lived with him, for as long as possible. But it was hard with how snoopy his mother was, and his inability to not answer the phone whenever Zayn called over the summer. It had caused a chant of those irritated sighs for weeks towards him.
“I don't know,” he mumbles, pushing open his bedroom door. It is completely empty other than the furniture, but the blinds are pulled up and the air conditioner is already blowing like Zayn had turned it on this morning. He smiles softly to himself before propping the suitcase on his bed. “Have you seen Zayn?”
Scout shakes their head, making the beaded earrings hanging from their ears jingle. “Nah, probably in his spot.”
Liam finds himself grinning again, a fondness blossoming in his chest over how strange Zayn is for finding peace in a place as creepy as the burned down building on the edge of campus. A place that should be more haunting to him than anyone else.
Scout wrinkles their nose, their dark brown eyes bright with amusement. “Go burn him to death with your pining, not me.”
Liam barks out a laugh, shoving Scout away with a playful and embarrassed punch in the shoulder. They were the last to move into their dorm out of all of them, arriving at the start of last year while the rest of them have been together since the beginning, but the quickest to catch on to his painfully obvious feelings for Zayn.
“Shove off,” he laughs, ignoring the steady building heat over his skin.
+*
It is a creepy place, dark and quiet. The walls and ceiling are filled with holes and cracks, the windows shattered and the rows of counters that managed to survive the fire covered in black burn marks. He has cleaned up some of the ashes from the ground, the broken glass and indistinguishable items a few years ago. Malay had allowed him to bring in a table to do his work, though it didn’t come without question as to why Zayn would want to study here.
It is just peaceful, even though it shouldn’t be. It is quiet, and the coldest place, though the summer sun burns through every hole and crack. And no one comes in here, thinking it is haunted or just creeped out by the fact that someone died in here -
Zayn traces the name, raised on a gold plaque against the wall. It makes his chest ache reading her name, but he is also comforted by it. He has nothing of hers, no memory, just nothing - except this room, this plaque that barely made it, and a small emerald necklace that he wears around his neck.
He sits at his desk, a text book laying open despite the fact that it is summer - and he is probably the only student that has to study on their break. All of his other classmates are off enjoying the holidays, their family, their freedom. Not that he doesn’t understand why Malay wants him to constantly study and practice, but the pressure of being the best to live up to the Malik name is starting to get tiring.
He lets his eyes fall closed, hands laid on his lap as he focuses on the spot at the low of his spine. It has gotten easier, creating that coolness over his skin that feels like ice melting over him. He can multitask now, no longer needed his full attention to keep invisible. He doesn’t have full control though, it still takes him by surprise, sometimes when he gets nervous or embarrassed.
Zayn opens his eyes as he reaches his hand out. He smiles proudly when he doesn’t see anything other than the room around him. It used to freak him out, not being able to see himself and how it would take over him randomly and without warning. Malay has insisted that he will soon see the development of another power, that he can feel it or whatever, but Zayn isn’t so sure.
The sudden warmth that drifts through the room takes his attention, making his heart leap in his chest. There is something distinctive about it, though he can’t quite put a finger on why he knows the heat is from Liam rather than anything else. A pulse takes over his skin, like a blanket of a heart beat is covering him and he shifts off the table.
It is fast, the heart beat, making concern fill him as he feels the spike of the temperature, the closer he gets to the other lad. That usually only happens when Liam is upset somehow, or feeling something strongly, and he stumbles over the tile floor to find him.
It has been months since they have seen each other. Liam, like the others, had left the school for the summer months. Though he went to football camp rather than home for most of it, something about it being a distraction from his constant busy mind - and being able to hide his constant warmth while running underneath the summer sun.
He hasn’t changed much, Zayn thinks when he spots him in the entryway of the building - the only part of the building that remains mostly intact. His skin has darkened some, and there are streaks of gold in his hair from the sun. He wears a white shirt wrapped tightly around his chest, his black jeans hanging low on his hips.
“Zayn?” Liam calls out, tucking his fingers into his pant pockets. He too is afraid to venture too far into the wrecked building, having once said he gets a creepy feeling while in here. Zayn once convinced him to walk in further, but Liam had gotten so hot he had been afraid for the other lad and quickly rushed back out.
Zayn doesn’t speak up, but Liam’s eyes shift over him and a smile takes over his lips before he starts looking around again. “I know you’re in here, Zed.”
“How did you know?” Zayn says back, and Liam’s eyes dart across where he stands.
Liam shrugs, his full lips fighting off the grin trying to take over them. “Dunno. Just knew.”
Zayn tiptoes closer and Liam’s eyes follow as if he can see him. He knows he can’t as Liam’s brows push together and his eyes move over his general space, but sometimes Zayn swears he can with the way his eyes always seem to follow in his direction whenever he is trying to hide away from everyone.
“I reckon it’s ‘cause you’re cold,” Liam murmurs, shifting his weight onto one foot. Up close, Zayn can see how red his face is, and the line of sweat that covers his brow. That heat washes over him as he gets near, but it isn’t uncomfortable like their roommates claim it to be. It wraps around him, settles in his bones and comforts the wrack of nerves in his belly that annoy him because it has been three years, and he still feels them around Liam.
Zayn reaches out and brushes his fingers against Liam’s neck, over his birthmark, to feel the pulse under his skin that matches the beat against his own. It makes Liam jump, lips parting around a surprised breath. “Am I?”
“Yeah,” Liam says without hesitation. “Let me see you. Missed you.”
He appears back in front of his best mate, trying not to be obvious about the way Liam’s words make his heart feel too big for his chest. But a smile breaks against his lips, painful in the way they push against his cheeks and he knows it is obvious. Liam’s eyes find him instantly, and they spark so bright they could be blinding. “You did?”
“Yeah. You, the group, the school,” Liam goes on, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.
“Have a bad summer?” Zayn asks in concern, wanting to reach out to him. He wants to press himself against Liam’s chest really, because he has missed him so much. He loves his alone time, but he has missed being able to sneak into Liam’s room at night when he can’t sleep because of his nightmares; seeing those sleepy heavy eyes early in the kitchen each morning, with a cup of coffee waiting for him.
He has missed the constant warmth surrounding him, and the soft smile that constantly takes over his lips. He has missed Liam’s laughter, and the way he over does it whenever he laughs at something stupid Zayn says or does. His constant touches, the pads of his fingertips dragging over his back or tickling under his chin. His banter with the other boys, and how often he pushes his lips into a pout when they tease him.
There is a softness about him that feels like a secret just for him, and he has missed that the most. The way Liam will drop his voice and trace his fingers against Zayn’s skin, eyes so warm despite the concern or sadness that usually holds his features when he softens for him like that.
“No,” Liam chuckles, cocking his head to the side as he raises his brows. “Well, I did almost give the goalie heat stroke during one of our games. But other than that, not bad.”
Zayn rolls his eyes, not wanting to laugh at that. “Have you been practicing like Malay -”
“Yes,” Liam interrupts, though not unkindly. It is just a topic he gets frustrated with easily. “Loads, still no better at controlling it though.”
Zayn sighs but Liam reaches out, tucking his fingers underneath his chin. The others say when Liam is this hot it hurts to touch him, and he has seen them constantly flinching away whenever Liam gets upset, but it doesn’t feel like he is being burned. He can just tell how hot he is, the same way he can tell what emotion is causing it. “I think I need my tutor. The best in the class -”
“Quiet,” Zayn grumbles, swatting Liam’s hand away. “I’m not the best.”
“Headmaster Ho thinks so.”
Zayn presses his lips together, giving Liam a hard look. “That’s shit, mate.”
Liam quirks up a questioning brow at him. “Oh really?”
Zayn rolls his eyes, pushing past him. “Come on, Li, I’m sure you need help unpacking.”
Liam grins, following after him. “Or you just want to steal more of me shirts.”
Their dorm room is on the first floor, allowing a door that leads outside and one that leads into the hallway of the building, towards the lobby. There is a kitchen big enough to fit three at a time, and a living room with two couches and a chair. The hallway extending off the living room leads to their three bedrooms, with two per bedroom, and their bathroom. It had seemed massive when he was alone, but now it feels as if there is no space as his roommates move in with the help of their families.
“Ay Zayner,” Niall greets, clapping him on the back as Zayn reaches for his mum who is all smiles. His blond hair is lighter than usual, practically white now, and a sunburn covers the tip of his nose, contrasting shockingly with his paler skin. “Missed me?”
“No,” Zayn jokes as Mrs. Horan pats him on the back. “Missed your mum, though.”
“Oh no,” she laughs, swatting him on the chest as Niall glares at him. It isn’t threatening though, as Niall’s best attempt at looking scary makes him just look grumpy.
“Didn’t miss you either,” Niall grumbles, glancing at him and then Liam. “Didn’t miss burning to death every time Liam looks -”
“Hey,” Liam interrupts, causing a wave of heat to radiate off of him. It makes Niall’s face crumple even more, his pale skin trying to match the color of the tip of his nose. “I missed you.”
This relaxes Niall’s features, and he gives them a grin that is more fitting for him. “I missed you too. Though, I’m serious about the burning to death.”
Liam snorts before he gives Niall a big hug. “And I didn’t miss you accidentally flying items at me head.”
“One time!” Zayn hears Niall exclaim as he walks off down the hallway, laughing under his breath. “That was one time! And emphasis on the ‘accidentally’!”
“It was a plate,” Liam laughs back. “You could have killed me, mate.”
His bedroom is the last on the left, across from Liam and Niall’s. He eyes the crack of his door before pushing it open, revealing his roommate, Ned, shuffling through the suitcases he has opened on the bed closest to the door.
“Ay!” Ned greets, grinning up at him. His brown hair is pushed up into a tall quiff, square framed glasses hanging off his long nose. His shirt is an array of obnoxious shapes and colors, which he always tries to wear instead of the plain, white button up shirts that are part of their uniform. (It never works out well, but Ned still tries it like he hasn’t been written up over a dozen times for it.) “Did you invite Blast in here? The room looks like a tornado hit it.”
Zayn grins, leaning against the door. His boots are strewn across the floor along with a few packs of colored pencils and his blankets ruffled, there is a pile of clothes on top of his desk and some thrown over his bureau rather than in it. But it isn't that messy.
“Been busy.”
Ned raises his eyebrows. “Been on adventures with Headmaster Ho?”
“No,” Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “He has given me more work to do than I get in a school year, I swear.”
The other man wiggles his thick brows as he props himself onto his bed. “Secretive work?”
Zayn rolls his eyes at that. Every so often Ned asks this, but the only secret he can think of is Malay still walks around his house with his kitten slippers on, even though they look older than he is. “No. Why do you always think Malay has all these secrets?”
Ned sighs, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. “‘Cause I can't read his thoughts. It's like hitting a brick wall. He must be hiding something. And plus, all old wise people have secrets, right?”
“Yeah, he is hiding how annoying he thinks you are.”
Outside the room, he hears Liam’s soft chuckle and it warms through him. It is quiet, and distant, but he knows Liam is approaching. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he just does.
“I take offense to that,” Ned says seriously, but his eyes are bright and there is a slight quirk in his lips. “Asshole. is that why I can’t read your thoughts either?”
Zayn only shrugs, giving him a playful grin as Liam steps into the room to say hello to Ned. He is annoying, but Zayn is quite fond of the other lad. Even though half the time they bicker more than anything else.
“Stop being so nosy,” Liam chuckles, clapping his hand to the one Ned holds out for him.
Ned wrinkles his nose, eyes darting back to Zayn as he points to Liam with his thumb. “All this one thinks about is dick.”
Liam shoves him playfully, his face bright red and a wave of hot embarrassment rushing off of him. “That's not true.”
“You think with your dick at least,” Ned says before he is scrambling across the room in a fit of laughter to dodge the fist Liam threatens him jokingly with. He stops, eyes widening before he blurts out a loud laugh. “Your heart? Liam that's fucking corny.”
Liam presses his lips together, waving a hand of dismissal at him. “I hate you.”
“Love you too bro,” Ned calls after him as Liam pads out of the door.
Zayn giggles quietly, elbowing Ned in the side as he tries to hide behind him. “Leave him be.”
Every year, on the night of their first day back, their dorm is crowded with everyone from their floor. Music plays in the background, almost as loud as the chatter in the living room - which is mostly just Niall laughing and talking shit with Liam, Louis and the girls from the next room over.
Ned is just as loud as Niall though, as he talks about his summer while he pours juice into red solo cups. He talks to Griff mostly, who stands in front of the stove. Zayn stands beside him, picking at the fries he lays on a plate despite the fact that they burn his fingers and tongue.
“Back home,” Griff says to him quietly. His lips quirk up some when he speaks. “I made it rain over my auntie’s boyfriend’s house for ‘bout like, five days because he broke her heart. Headmaster found out somehow.”
Zayn snorts out a laugh as Griff grabs the plate away from him to place more fries onto it. “Was he mad?”
“Nah,” Griff laughs. “Clapped me on the back said ‘good man’ and told me not to do it again.”
“Oh wow,” Scout exclaims from where they sit on the counter after squeezing their way into the crowded kitchen. “And he gave me detention for accidentally scaring him in the hallway.”
A rumble of laughter fills the kitchen. “Well,” Ned says, pointing an accusing finger to them. “You were skipping class.”
“Details,” Scout exclaims, waving their hand in dismissal.
“And you know that is one of the things Headmaster hates the most,” Liam adds as he comes into the room. Zayn’s eyes drag over to him immediately. He admires the soft smile on his lips, the amusement in his eyes and even the way he walks. His beard has grown thicker over the summer, and he wants to threaten Liam into never shaving it again.
“Yeah,” Scout agrees, fingers itching over the tuft of their hair that fluctuates between black and black tipped with blond every few minutes. “He hates that almost as much as Cook’s Monday surprise.”
Liam huffs out a laugh, coming over to the sink to drop his plate into it. His side brushes Zayn’s as he turns on the water, the heat from him radiating over his skin. “Everyone hates Cook’s Monday surprise.”
“Tomorrow’s Monday,” Zayn whispers to him quietly, though he doesn’t know why he feels the need to drop his voice. It is probably for the same reason he feels he doesn’t want anyone else to see the smile on Liam’s face that softens his whole expression. He wants it to be just for him.
“And fuck, tomorrow’s Monday,” Niall grumbles as he squeezes into the room. He reaches for a hat hanging on the coat rack by the front door before placing it on his head. “Leemo, you better cook tomorrow.”
Liam looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, fuck that. I have Professor Styles’ class tomorrow, and Professor Green’s. You know they are going to assign like eighteen assignments the first night.”
Niall groans in complaint. “Shit. Maybe Ned.”
Ned laughs as he sips out of his cup and hands one to Scout. “Nah, ask Harry while you’re at his place.”
Everyone stops and looks at Niall, who's face grows redder than Liam’s when he turns into a furnace. “I am - no, I am going for a walk. Just a walk. To look at the - nature. By myself. Totally solo.”
Ned furrows his brows at him in, an amused and confused look on his face. “Dude, I can read your mind, remember?”
Niall narrows his eyes at him, grumbling something with more cuss words than Zayn can count before he turns around and stomps out of the door.
Liam turns off the water before placing the plate in the sink. There is amusement in his features, making him burn brighter than ever. “Will you help me? With Green’s work? I’ve always understood Styles’.”
Zayn nods, pinching his hip and returning the smile. “‘Course, I’ll help.”
“Thanks,” Liam says quietly as he washes off his hands with the dish towel hanging above the sink. He steals a fry, wiggling his thick eyebrows in this adorable way before heading back out towards the living room.
“Ay,” Ned says, handing a cup to him. “Wanna know what Liam was thinking? It wasn’t about dick this time. Well, not technically. I wouldn’t be surprised if it led there.”
“No,” Zayn says immediately, narrowing his eyes at Ned. He understands the other lad can’t help but to read thoughts, but he knows Malay has taught him well enough that most of the time he has to choose to read thoughts in order to hear them. But Ned is addicted to being nosy, the way Griff is addicted to studying, the way Scout is addicted to shopping, and the way Zayn feels addicted to Liam. “That’s an invasion of his privacy.”
“He was practically yelling in his mind, dude. I didn’t even try to listen,” Ned insists. He wiggles his brows, lips quirking up. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? He - ”
“I’m sure,” Zayn interrupts, frowning at him.
Ned huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he claps Griff on the back. “Okay, if you say so.”
Zayn presses his lips together, glancing between Griff’s amused face and Ned’s. He presses them together harder until his teeth dig in, craving to know but refusing to give in and invade Liam’s privacy. Especially since half the time, Liam seems preoccupied by thoughts that make his brow stressed and creates a sad look in his eyes. “I do.”
Ned laughs as he sips at his drink. “When he comes into the room, I don’t even have to read your thoughts to know what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah,” Griff laughs, shutting off the burner. “It’s obvious, bro.”
Zayn frowns as the cold sweeps up his back. It only increases the laughter that he knows isn’t meant to be harmful but embarrasses him anyway as he walks out of the room.
In the living room, Jade sits in one of the chairs with her fingers brushing through Jesy’s hair, who sits on the floor in front of her. Liam is on the couch, legs spread and an arm behind his head as he talks about something with Leigh-Anne curled up on the other side of the couch. There is a lot more people in the room, standing around the couches in small groups, eyes on the television but all Zayn can see is Liam.
He weaves through the people with little ease, taking a few elbows and wandering eyes from the people who want to apologize for knocking into him but can’t find him, before he gets to Liam. Liam’s brows crumple together before they look for him, but he settles beside Liam so he doesn’t have to look too much.
“What is it?” Liam says under his breath, his expression immediately falling into one of concern.
“Nothin’,” Zayn whispers back, squeezing into Liam’s side as Liam moves over some to fit him, so Leigh-Anne won’t accidentally kick his thigh and notice him there. Liam pulls his eyes away from Zayn, as Leigh-Anne looks back at him, pretending he isn’t there.
“I’ve got something for your birthday,” Zayn goes on quietly, biting at the grin that so easily takes over his lips when he is with the other lad.
Liam struggles to keep the smile off of his lips as he brushes his fingers against his shoulder so gently it probably wouldn’t be noticed by anyone, but it is all he can notice. He waits for Leigh-Anne to finish speaking before he excuses himself and lets Zayn stand up first.
Liam follows after him, though he doesn’t make himself visible as they walk between people and down the hallway. His fingers never leave his hip, the rough pads of his finger tips gripping into the bare of his skin and the start of his briefs and Zayn is quite sure Liam isn’t aware.
Not that he minds, of course. He has thought too often of Liam’s fingers there, pushing under the start of his briefs until the material was sliding past his hips. On every part of his skin really.
Zayn rolls his eyes at himself, at how easily he can get wrapped up in thoughts of Liam’s bare skin as he pushes open his bedroom door and returns so Liam can see him. A lopsided grin takes over the other lad’s lips as he steps in beside him.
“What is it?”
“You’re not going to think it’s funny,” Zayn says, nervous suddenly that Liam will actually hate his attempt at making a joke. Though he would never admit it, it would just be obvious in his forced laughter that he thinks comes off as genuine.
Liam frowns, lips pouting out some. “Probably will.”
Zayn gives him a long look before he reaches into his nightstand, pulling out the sketchpad he leaves there. He flips through a few pages of half finished drawings before he finds the one that had made him laugh for much longer than he would like to admit.
He hands it to Liam, whose brows scrunch together immediately. “What is it?”
Zayn grimaces slightly as he points to the stove he drew, beside a long rectangular piece of glass drawn very lightly. “It's us.”
Liam blurts out a laugh, seemingly genuine with the deep crinkles that appear by his eyes. “Why are you a tall square?”
Zayn feels a flame take over his cheeks as he shrugs. “I’m glass. Like, you can see right through me.”
“I love it,” Liam huffs out as he holds the sketchpad properly to rip the page out carefully. Zayn waits for it, staring at him in excitement as he reveals the page underneath that one.
Liam glances up at him as he places the stove picture on the nightstand. It had taken him ages to draw the next one, especially because when drawing Liam he gets so easily distracted by every detail. From the shape of his lips to the thick of his fingers. Tracing out his thighs had been a nightmare, because Zayn’s mind had flooded with thoughts of his mouth on the inside of them and the drawing had gone forgotten after that.
“Is this me?”
He wears a red and black suit with a bright yellow H stitched over a solid black diamond on his chest. One fist is clenched shut, the other opened with steam pouring up from his palm. Zayn had drawn him a bit more muscular than he really is, and had obsessed over finding the right pink to shade across his cheeks.
“You can't tell?” Zayn asks.
Liam stares at it for a long moment, a look of amazement on his face. “You made me a superhero.”
Zayn snorts, fondness blossoming in his chest from how adorable the other lad is. The idea had popped into his mind after thinking about a conversation they once had, tucked into Liam’s bed one night while Liam talked softly about how he liked the idea of having powers to do good in the world. His words coated in a fear that his would only lead him to do the opposite. “Yeah, Heatwave.”
Liam huffs out a laugh. “I reckon that name is already taken babe, but I love it.”
Zayn tucks his smile against Liam’s shoulder, tickling his fingers against his back. “Good, I'm glad.”
+*
Liam has always found it hard to sleep on his first night back at the Academy, too excited and overwhelmed by the power that pulses through the campus. The cold air blowing onto him makes him a bit more comfortable; Niall’s snoring not as annoying yet. He stares up at the ceiling, mind too busy to let him relax enough to fall asleep.
It is the reason he has failed so miserably at the meditation practices Malay has instructed him to do. He can never quiet his brain, can never focus on his breathing or a certain body part for more than a few seconds before his mind is being plagued with frustration and self-doubt.
He covers his face with his palms, exhaling before he hears a soft thump in the distance. He frowns, pulling his hands away so he can focus on the way it steadily builds.
Liam pushes up, his own heart trying to match the erratic pulse that feels as if it is against his skin. He only glances at Niall for a moment before he is pushing up and heading to the last room like there is a string connected to him, tugging him there.
The door creaks as it opens, but Ned doesn't move a muscle. Zayn does though, shifting across his sheets with his fingers gripping into them. His brows are knitted together, lips parted around quiet but harsh breaths.
It creates an ache in his chest that burns deep. He wonders if it is the same nightmare making him toss and turn in his sleep, the one of his parents dying. He can’t count the amount of times Zayn had tiptoed into his room after one of those, hands shaking and eyes swollen like he had cried before wiping his tears away to come into Liam's’ room.
Liam tiptoes over to settle on the edge of Zayn’s bed. He presses a palm to Zayn’s cheek, brushing his thumb over his warm skin, focusing on his wish to comfort the other man.
He feels his palm growing hot and Zayn nuzzles into it, exhaling out before he stills and the tension in his face slowly seeps away. There are moments where he flickers between being invisible and being seen, as if he is trying to hide from whatever plagues his dreams.
Liam stays there like that for a while, stroking the other lad’s skin until his brows scrunch and his eyes move behind his eyelids like he is waking up.
+*
Tap, tap, tap.
Zayn sighs, watching the pen that he beats repeatedly over his notebook. Liam is the only one in the class actually taking notes, scribbling furiously across his notebook to keep up with the rushed voice of their teacher. Scout beside him is half asleep, their face rested against the textbook and eyes flicking open here and there. Ned has his headphones on in front of him, allowing him to hear a whisper of the music he listens to.
He barely slept the night before, having woken from a repeat of nightmares that made him feel like his skin was on fire. And every time he woke, the room was burning hot like Liam had been in it. It comforted him more than he would like to admit, though the moment sleep took over him the nightmares flooded back.
“Can anyone tell me the average amount of abilities one can possess?”
Zayn flicks his eyes up, shifting back on the chair as the professor’s eyes fall onto him. He doesn’t raise his hand though, not when Liam does so beside him.
“Mr. Malik?”
Zayn shrugs, eyes darting down towards his notebook. He knows the answer, but Liam is right there - raising his hand to answer and he is obviously diverting his eyes as not to be called on.
“Three,” Ned blurts, tickling three fingers into the air. He turns around, glancing at Liam with a smirk on his lips before resting back against the chair.
“Correct, Mr. Malik,” Professor Green says pointedly, eyes narrowed towards Ned. “Has there ever been persons to possess more?”
Liam raises his hand again, but Green’s eyes dart over him like it is Liam that is the invisible one and not Zayn. “Ms. Thirlwall?”
Jade jerks her head up, a confused look on her face. “Um, yes?”
“Right,” Professor Green says. Zayn sighs when he sees Liam’s shoulders slump. The heat radiating off of him is the only heat that hurts him, the one that is created by Liam’s anger, or sadness. But it doesn’t burn him, it just makes his chest ache. “Now what do the statistics show about this?”
Liam glances up, but he doesn’t raise his hand this time. Instead the heat grows, his face getting hot and Zayn wants to fall invisible so he can get away with kicking Professor Green in the shin or shove that piece of chalk he hovers in the air up his big nostril.
“They show,” he goes on, wiggling his fingers so the piece of chalk starts writing the words he speaks across the chalkboard. “That only about ten percent of our population has three or more abilities, however, 86% of the inmates at Inis Correctional are gifted with more than four abilities. Why is this?”
Liam shifts then, as the Professor looks around for someone to respond. He gets up from his seat and throws his bag over his shoulder, eyes to the ground and ignoring the Professor that finally notices him.
“Power trip,” Zayn answers loudly as he picks up his textbook and shoves it into his bag a bit more roughly than he intended. “The more power you have, the more you let it get to you. You think you’re better than everyone and allat. Studies show it leads to violence, and everyone at Inis is violent.”
Zayn pushes up from his chair, thankful that he can’t radiate heat like Liam because he feels like blasting this Professor with everything he felt radiating off of his best mate. “People can have power trips for all kinds of reasons. And though they might not always lead to violence, they can still be harmful nonetheless.”
He can feel Professor Green’s eyes on him as he pushes out of the classroom, leaving behind a whispered chatter from his classmates. He pushes it out of his mind, instead focusing on the echo of a heartbeat and the trail of heat leading him to Liam.
He finds him outside, sitting on the steps leading up to the building. He doesn’t move when Zayn steps out, or when Zayn sits beside him.
“You didn’t have to follow me out.”
“I did,” Zayn says immediately, knocking his shoulder against Liam’s. “Professor Green’s a dick, mate.”
“Yeah,” Liam huffs out, glancing away from where he stares at his red hands and at Zayn. He loosens the tie around his neck before undoing the top button of his dress shirt. “It’s like I’m the only one struggling with my power, so everyone just assumes I am struggling with everything else.”
Zayn wraps an arm around him, pulling Liam close. It makes his chest ache every time Liam tells him that he feels that way, but he can’t tell him he is wrong for feeling the way he does when Professor Green isn’t the only one who treats him that way. “You’re wicked smart babe. Take your exams and throw it back at them when you get that perfect score.”
Liam chuckles, tapping his fingers against Zayn’s thigh. “I'm just gonna go for a run, blow off some steam.”
Zayn gives him a lopsided grin. “Want me to join you?”
Liam quirks up a brow, a grin playing on his own lips. “You? Can you keep up?”
He rolls his eyes, letting go of Liam to stand up and to jog in place. He actually hates running, and he knows Liam knows that. “Come on.”
Liam stands, tucking his hands into his pockets. “No offense but you run like a penguin, Z.”
Zayn pushes him playfully in the shoulder before he takes off, leaving Liam standing there with a look of surprise on his face before he starts running after him.
He can’t keep up really, especially not in his dress shoes, but Liam never runs past him, making sure he is never more than a few inches ahead and even falling behind so Zayn is in front of him here and there. He doesn’t say anything, but the constant grins that get thrown his way makes it hard for Zayn to keep his eyes ahead.
“This helps?” Zayn huffs out as they circle around the building that is used mostly by those with water related powers. He has never been inside before, but the bottom floor is covered by tall windows that allow him to see the massive pool inside.
“Yeah,” Liam huffs out, his face a bright shade of red but no other heat surrounds him other than the one from the summer sun.
“Strange,” Zayn murmurs to himself. His own heart thumps quickly in his chest, his body warming up from the movement of his legs and arms. “Have you found anything else that makes you um, feel not hot?”
Liam laughs, racing ahead of him a bit until he stops to jog in place. When Zayn reaches him, he takes his hand and presses it against his sweaty neck. “See, still hot. But just like, a regular person.”
Zayn wrinkles his nose, ignoring the flutter in his chest when Liam doesn’t let his hand go. “Well, I like you better than regular people, anyway.”
His fingers tap against his wrist, eyes flicking down as if to show off the soft of his lashes. “Well, I can't really stand you but -”
“Knob,” Zayn grumbles in offense, pushing Liam playfully in the chest. He jogs backwards, wiggling his fingers to indicate Liam to follow. “I'm your best mate, you like me just fine.”
Liam only shrugs, fingers reaching out to tickle against his belly before he runs past him. “Yeah, you're right.”
+*
“Green is a fuckface,” Ned says roughly as he pads into the living room with Scout where Liam sits, placing a cold rag against the back of his neck. After his run, he had flamed up, and Zayn had told him he could shower first to cool down but Liam insisted that Zayn could.
Liam nods, sliding the rag down to his chest. His shirt lays discarded on the table, covered in sweat. The run had helped to cool him down, but it had stopped working when Zayn ran into Liam, his body hard against his as Liam wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him from stumbling.
“Seriously,” Ned goes on, sitting beside him. “You knew every answer.”
Liam doesn’t respond. He is used to it. All of his Professors make him feel like he doesn’t know anything, even the Headmaster. Who is the worst of all, constantly pushing him to do stuff he can’t do and making it seem like it is so easy for him to just do it.
“I put gum on his seat,” Scout says as they take the chair. They fiddle with the end of their dark green uniform skirt, a proud grin playing on their lips. “He’s been walkin’ around with it on his butt and shit, doesn’t even realize.”
Liam lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Thanks, Scout.”
Scout shrugs like it isn’t anything. “No one messes with my friends.”
Zayn pads in then, making Liam stiffen as his eyes drag down his bare body. Only a red towel hangs low on on his hips, letting him see the water droplets that slide down his chest, the ink trailing up his arms and torso. He always knew Zayn had a lot of tattoos, but it always takes his breath away when he sees just how many.
“Oh god,” Ned complains, pushing away from Liam as he flares up, diverting his eyes from Zayn but it doesn’t stop his thoughts from focusing on Zayn’s bare skin. Scout barks out a laugh, covering their face as they shake with it.
“Um,” Zayn starts, shifting awkwardly. His brows clench together a few times in concern as he looks at Liam. “You can use the shower now.”
He turns then, practically tripping over his feet. Ned shoves Liam as he gets up, cackling out his laughter. “Told you all you think about is dick.”
Liam ignores that as he pushes his way into the bathroom. He is getting used to it, though he still feels a bit of hate towards the heat that constantly covers his skin. The way it builds whenever his emotions spike, even a small amount.
Liam stares at the mirror in the bathroom, at the sweat lining his brow and the red covering his cheeks. It runs from his throat to the start of his chest, where his heart pounds unevenly. He cups the edge of the sink, looking down at the cool water that streams from the faucet before he cups his hands underneath it to splash his face.
He feels ridiculous. The worst part about this all are the eyes that glance his way, the concern that takes over Zayn’s face whenever he flares up. Like Zayn is worried that he is upset or something, when really he is just flustered because of his stupid feelings for the other lad and Ned had been kind of right about him thinking with his dick, because it is so easy for Zayn to send a spark of arousal through him. He feels like a teen going through puberty half the time, his dick perking up from even the smallest thought of Zayn’s body.
Liam groans into his palms, the cool water slipping down his chin and trickling down his neck. The only good thing about the whole situation is that it makes Zayn’s cheeks darken with a blush as he feels the heat from Liam, and he is the only one who doesn’t grimace and sweat like it makes him uncomfortable.
A knock at the door drags Liam’s face away from his hands and he shuts the water off as he hears that familiar voice that makes his heart pick up in his chest.
“Li? You alright?”
Liam groans quietly as the heat snakes down his back. It makes the cooling drops smoke slightly from his skin. He wishes after three years of being around Zayn that he would be able to control this by now, but it only feels as if it is getting worse. He has seen Zayn shirtless plenty of times, and he feels embarrassed for having to run and hide in the bathroom trying to erase the thoughts of his fingers and lips on Zayn’s skin just to cool down.
“M’okay,” he calls through the door.
“Then let me in.”
Liam looks up at the ceiling, lips pressing shut around another groan he wants to let out before he shuffles to the door and unlocks it. He knows Zayn isn’t going anywhere, knows the other lad is insistent on making him cool down whenever his heat spikes up.
Zayn is frowning, lips pouted out and brows knitted together as Liam opens the door. He doesn’t hesitate to press his palm to Liam’s forehead, like the burn on his skin doesn’t bother him. It bothers most people, makes them flinch away or leave the room. He wears a shirt now though, one of his own with the first few buttons unpopped and revealing the emerald pendant he always wears.
“Breathe,” Zayn murmurs, expression soft as he slides his palm to Liam’s cheek. Liam complies, counting to three as he inhales before exhaling slowly. He does this a few times, and it works a bit, though the heat settles in his belly from the gentle way Zayn touches him.
“Again,” Zayn instructs, stepping closer as he moves his palm to the center of Liam’s chest. The pace of his heart spikes up, but the heat doesn’t take over, nothing out of the ordinary at least. Just what Liam considers normal heat, for him.
“I’m okay,” Liam insists, but Zayn’s fingers slide up to his neck, cupping it as his thumb strokes over his pulse and he wants to pretend to not to be okay for a moment just to have Zayn keep touching him like this. “I promise.”
“What happened?” Zayn murmurs, pulling his hand away like he is satisfied with the way his temperature drops. “I thought the run helped?”
“Nothin’,” Liam murmurs, trying to hide his embarrassment. His eyes linger on the part of Zayn’s lips, and it is so quiet around them, the room still lingering with a warmth that doesn’t compare to the warmth in Zayn’s eyes. It would be so easy just to close the space between them, to slot their lips together in the way Liam always craves to, but he would either hurt Zayn physically by accidentally burning him to death or hurt himself when Zayn pushes him away.
“Liar,” Zayn mutters, lips quirking up. He curls his fingers around the brim of Liam’s dress pants, tugging him forward. “Come on, it is cooler outside and I need a smoke.”
Liam doesn’t tell him that it doesn’t matter if it was below zero outside, his body will always be hot, but he lets Zayn guide him, savoring the feel of Zayn’s fingers slotting between his own.
Ned and Scout are still in the living room, and Niall has joined them, whispering about something that makes their lips press tightly together the moment him and Zayn walk into the living room.
“Hey,” Ned chuckles, nodding his chin towards them. The heat in Liam spikes as he furrows his brows, and a whoosh of cool takes over the skin of his hand as Zayn disappears.
When Liam’s emotions spike he goes hot, affecting the people around him and the temperature of the room. But Zayn goes invisible, though Liam is still trying to learn the cues that cause him to disappear. Nerves, he thinks, though he is never sure of what his best mate is nervous about.
His hand is tugged slightly though Zayn’s hand is gone from sight and then Ned is gasping, face crumpling into a glare as he cups his knee. He flicks them off as Zayn tugs him closer to the outside door, making Niall laugh from where he sits on the lazy boy near the television.
“Leave them alone, Ned,” he hears Niall mutter as Zayn opens the door. “I feel like I’m burning to death. I’m begging ya, leave them alone.”
When he turns, Zayn is in front of him again, a blush taking over his cheeks, and he doesn’t let Liam’s hand go despite the heat he feels there. Zayn doesn’t say anything, only falls to his side and looks up at where the sun hides behind the clouds. It is a bit cool outside as the days start to become shorter and cooler, with a bit of a breeze blowing over his skin and it feels good.
The summers are the worst, except for when he is running. He feels normal then, but after a game or practice, he had to lock himself in his room with the air conditioner blasting on high for the rest of the day.
“He’s a dick,” Zayn mutters as he starts walking to the gazebo in the center of the yard, the one Liam can normally find Zayn at when he needs a smoke.
“He’s alright,” Liam lies, knowing him and Zayn are good friends. He doesn’t actually mind Ned much, he just can get annoying with the constant jokes. He knows Ned knows how he feels about Zayn, and he is nervous Ned is going to stop teasing him about telling Zayn and actually tell him.
Zayn looks at him, nose wrinkling and something bright in his eyes. “Liar.”
Liam gives him a guilty shrug as Zayn lets go of his hand and digs in his pants, producing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out, distracting Liam by the way his lips wrap around the end before he shoves his fingers back into his pocket to get a lighter.
He wonders if it is his ability that makes him react more than he normally would, to be more sensitive, because his belly twists at the sight, making Zayn’s eyes flick up towards him. The others’ know more about their abilities than he knows about his own. He is still trying to figure out what he can do with it other than be uncomfortable, what the purpose of it is, how to control it, more importantly.
But really, he thinks it is just being around Zayn, that makes him like this.
Zayn inhales before passing the cigarette to him, the flickering flame causing an uncomfortable swoop in his chest. He watches Liam as he exhales, a look on his face that Liam can’t read. “The other lads say it’s uncomfortable, your heat.”
Liam stays quiet, letting his lungs fill with the bitter smoke that rolls over his tongue.
“I like it,” Zayn admits, quietly like he isn’t sure if it is okay to say. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”
Liam’s lips quirk up some, eyes finding Zayn’s soft features. It feels better when Zayn touches him, though Zayn creates the heat. It isn’t as uncomfortable as when he is angry or upset. They both consume him, but he can handle the heat in his chest from Zayn; he can’t handle the heat that smokes and flames inside of him when he is angry.
“Good, I don’t want it to.”
Zayn takes the cigarette from him, cocking his head to the side before he puts it to his lips. His eyes drop, watching where he toes at the wooden board he stands on. “Maybe you do have more control over it than you think.”
Liam only shrugs, exhausted of the subject, though he knows Zayn only wants to make him feel better. “I reckon you’re just somewhat immune to other people’s powers.”
The other lad blurts out a laugh, a bewildered look on his face.“What? What makes you think that?”
He has always thought so, though it never made sense because Zayn does look like he gets warm when Liam is upset, but he can bear it. Ned has said before he has tried to read his thoughts, but it feels like there is a block up that he can’t get past. Jade has raged on Liam before when he accidentally gasped too loudly and woke her up, but when Zayn screamed over a spider one night, she never woke up.
“Dunno,” Liam says instead, giving him another shrug. “Just figured that’s why I don’t effect you.”
“You definitely have an effect on me,” Zayn blurts before he stills, eyes going slightly wide. “I mean, um -”
It is sudden, the way he disappears without a word, cigarette falling to the wooden floor. Liam stomps it out, letting out an awkward laugh as he tries to search for him. “Zayn, what is it?”
“Nothin’,” he hears a few feet away from him. “You do have an effect on me. But a good one, a really good one.”
Liam walks forward, reaching out towards the sound of his voice but ahead he sees the door to their dorm open and close a moment later.
+*
Flames flicker in front of him, sliding up the walls and sizzling across the tables. The smoke is thick in his nose, burning his eyes but he can’t look away from the black that rises towards the ceiling.
There is a shadow of a man behind the flames, his voice angry as he yells. His eyes water, making it hard to see him, his heart pounding so loud against his eardrums that he can’t make out what he is saying.
Panic makes his throat tight, but he screams. He screams, and screams until thick fingers are circling around his wrist and a set of warm eyes come into view. They have flames of their own, but these ones settle the fear inside of him.
“Wake up,” Liam says, tracing a finger down Zayn’s cheek. “It’s okay, sunshine. Wake up.”
Zayn gasps, eyes blowing out wide as he stares up at the ceiling. The room is quiet other than the soft sound of Ned’s snores, and the sound of wind blowing through the opened window. It makes the room cool, which he is thankful for as his body is covered in sweat.
He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, clenching his eyes closed for a moment as he tries to catch his breath and remind himself he is in his own dorm room, not the room in his dreams. He always has these dreams, ever since he was younger. But it wasn’t until recently that Liam’s face started to pop up in them.
Zayn pushes up to shut the window - wondering why Ned left open if he hates when Zayn does it - when he spots the mark on the wall beside the window frame.
He sucks in a breath, tracing over the spiral shape. It looks as if it is painted onto the wall, but he knows it will fade. They always do.
He shuts the window, before shuffling out of the room as quietly as possible. He doesn’t know why they appear, or what they mean, but they always seem to comfort him. They had popped up at Malay’s for years. He had been nervous about moving to his own dorm in the Academy, thinking that they would go away, but one showed up his first night.
Zayn curls his fingers around the door knob across from his room and slowly turns it. Thankfully, Niall sleeps like the dead, but Jade’s ability to hear even the tiniest of sounds has always made him careful to be quiet even though she is in the dorm room to the left of them.
Liam’s bed is across from the door, and there is enough light from outside that he can see the way his mouth has fallen open. He lays spread out on his mattress, one hand against the stone wall his bed sits against and the other tucked under his pillow. The blankets are crumpled at the bottom, where they permanently reside, and his shirt and joggers lay in a bundle on the floor.
He feels a bit weird, admiring the bare of Liam’s skin for a moment longer than he really should. The dark makes shadows across his skin, worsening the scarred skin covering the side of his abdomen. He lingers his eyes down to his toned thighs, to the ripple of his muscles and the black material that stretches tightly over his hips, before he rips them away and settles them onto his face. He is beautiful, and there is a pressure in his fingers that makes him feel like he might crumble apart if he doesn’t touch Liam.
He does so, carefully as not to wake him up, tracing a finger over the round of his nose before he climbs into the bed beside him. Liam’s face crumples and relaxes, the arm under his pillow coming to him automatically. Only a moment passes before Zayn feels that cool air seep down his spine, the drop in his belly that tells him he is disappearing. Liam tightens his arm around his shoulders, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows and shifts to make more room for him.
“You’re cool,” Liam mumbles tiredly, turning his head so his lips knock against Zayn’s forehead. “Bad dream?”
“Mhm,” Zayn mumbles, flattening his palm over Liam’s chest. He is always hot to the touch, like he constantly has a fever, but when he sleeps he is the coolest - only a little warmer than himself. He blasts the air conditioner, which always makes Niall have to sleep with at least four comforters. Though one time, Zayn woke in the middle of the night to find Niall dragging his mattress into his bedroom with his teeth chattering against each other.
“About your parents?”
“Just the fire,” Zayn tells him, looking up at him. It is easier to be with Liam when he is like this, invisible to the eye, because he doesn’t have to get embarrassed about the look he knows his face takes on every time he looks at the other lad. There is a confidence that fills him when Liam cannot see, that allows him to touch Liam idly the way he always craves to. That makes his tongue throb with the words he always wants to say but he always ends up swallowing them down.
Liam flicks his eyes open, brows scrunching for a moment as he curls closer so their chests are aligned. He reaches out blindingly, eyes darting around before his palm comes into contact with Zayn’s cheek.
“Sleep, I’ll make sure no more nightmares come to you,” Liam says sleepily, though it is no promise he can keep. Zayn lets go of the feeling, allowing Liam to look at him for a moment before he is snuggling his face into Liam’s chest.
“I wasn’t there when my parents died,” Zayn whispers against his skin. There is an ache in his chest, one that has not faded though it has been so long he barely remembers them. “I don’t get why I dream of it.”
Liam doesn’t respond, and Zayn doesn’t need him to. Everyone knows the story, but Liam is the only one he talks about it with. Because Liam just listens, without apologizing for his loss and making him feel like he is being pitied for being an orphan.
“Maybe the person who uh, the one that killed them could plant memories into people’s head. I heard that’s something people can do.”
Liam’s chin knocks against the top of his head as his arm curls around his waist to pull him closer.“I thought it was an accident, the fire?”
Zayn sighs, pulling back some so he can rest his head on the pillow and look at Liam, though his body feels too cold the moment they are no longer touching. “Malay doesn’t think so.”
He was too young to remember the articles that had gone around after their deaths, he doesn’t remember moving from his home and into Malay’s. He wouldn’t even remember what his parents looked like if it weren’t for the internet, having searched the moment Malay told him that they had died in a fire when he was four.
The articles said it was an accident, while they were in the lab late one night. But none of them had mentioned what they were working on that could have caused it, only mentioned the last magical item they had created being bought by Inis Correctional to stop the inmates from being able to use their powers.
He had asked Malay what they were working on, and he said nothing dangerous. Reading over notes that he had sent them, that was all. Nothing that would have caused a fire as angry as that.
“Why does he say that?” Liam asks quietly.
Zayn only shrugs, feeling his throat tighten again. Liam’s face softens even more, though it feels impossible, before he is curling an arm back around him to pull him closer. He can feel Liam’s heartbeat against his chest, and he lets his eyes close so he can focus on that for comfort.
“Do you ever have nightmares?”
Liam nods, fingers brushing through the hair at the back of his head. “Yeah, used to have them a lot when I was younger.”
“Of what?”
There is a long moment before Liam finally answers, the words whispered so quietly that Zayn has to strain his ears to hear them.
“Of being burned.”
When Zayn wakes, he snuggles his face into Liam’s pillow, soaking in the scent of his cologne for a moment before he realizes Liam is no longer in bed with him. He frowns, rolling over and getting Niall instead.
He sits on his bed, his hands out in front of him and fingers spread. Between them is his breakfast plate, which hovers over his lap. He stares at it with a look of complete focus on his face before he grabs it into his hands and then looks up at Zayn to give him a proud grin.
“Wicked,” Niall says more to himself than anything.
“Try it on your fork, the laziest form of eating,” Zayn mumbles as he shifts up from Liam’s bed. Niall’s face lights up as he points at him.
“Good idea, mate. One problem, I’m not very good at moving stuff yet in any other direction besides up. Like I can, but it usually ends up flying across the room at some point.”
Zayn chuckles as the door opens, and in steps a wet Liam. Droplets of water slip down his skin, causing a small amount of smoke to wisp off of his skin as his eyes find him.
“Mornin’,” Liam mumbles, dragging a hand through his hair before he turns to his closet. Zayn eyes his back, the muscles rippling across them and the few freckles that cover his skin. His eyes slide down his spine, to where a towel he is pretty sure is his own, rests low on his hips. His scars wrap around to his back, four thin lines across his skin that have always reminded him of finger marks.
“I hate you guys,” Niall mumbles, shifting up from his own bed with his plate in his hands. “You’re overcooking my food, Liam, chill out.”
“Sorry,” Zayn hears Liam mumble, knowing his cheeks are burning red as Niall narrows his eyes at him. He sighs, shifting up from the bed and plucking a biscuit from Niall’s plate.
“Leave him alone,” Zayn warns without malice. Niall is one of his best mates, and he knows Niall isn’t trying to be harmful towards Liam, but it is something Liam feels really guilty about. And the need to be defend Liam is like a habit he can’t, and doesn’t want to, break. “Or I’ll ask Griff to make it downpour on your birthday.”
Niall only frowns before he turns and heads out the door, grumbling something that sounds a lot like fuck off under his breath.
Liam gives him a lopsided grin over his shoulder the moment Niall slips out of the room, his eyes bright before he turns back into his closet. “Did you sleep better?”
Zayn ticks his fingers against his thigh awkwardly. “Yes.”
They had stopped talking after Liam said he had nightmares of being burned, though there had been a thousand questions on his tongue. He doesn’t know where his scars came from, but there is no denying he was burned. They are large, covering one half of his abdomen and side, and streaking across his back. He has never talked about them, never acknowledged the fact that they are even there.
And it had been at the front of Zayn’s mind until he finally fell asleep after Liam’s soft snores filled the room.
“I have a meeting with Headmaster Ho before class,” Liam tells him, pulling out one of his uniform button up shirts from the closet. “We are going to search for the core of my power. Again.”
Zayn grimaces, remembering how frustrating it had been when he had first done that. And Liam has less patience, always getting frustrated when it comes to his power. “Just remember to relax and focus, yeah?”
Liam nods, pulling on his shirt as more steam billows from the water droplets crawling down his skin. “I know.”
+*
There is a ball of frustration in his chest that just makes him feel hotter. Every word passing Malay’s lips aggravates him, and he digs his fingers into the wooden part of the chair to try and ease the pressure building across his skin.
“Liam,” Malay says patiently. “Relax. Just breathe, no need to get frustrated.”
Liam wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t. “It isn’t that easy.”
“It is,” Malay tells him, head cocking to the side. “You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Your insecurities are making this harder than it has to be. The more frustrated you become, the more you lose focus, the hotter you become.”
Liam lets out a quiet laugh, eyes flicking up at Malay as hurt rattles through his chest at his words. He is insecure, always feeling incompetent but that is because people always make him feel like he is. He doesn’t need Malay to remind him, thanks.
“Okay, I’ll just get over them.”
Malay smiles softly, unaffected by the sharp of Liam’s words. “Fine, think of something that always makes you heat up. Close your eyes, and think of that, the feeling of the burn across your skin. Focus on where it comes from and then focus on making it go away.”
Liam frowns before he does as Malay asks, closing his eyes. His mind wanders for a moment before settling on golden brown eyes, the perfect slope of his nose, his tongue that never seems to be able to stay put in his mouth and it always drags a fire down Liam’s spine.
His gentle touch, the way he is more concerned about Liam than anyone Liam has ever cared for. His thick eyelashes, and the beard that has been growing thicker since the summer and Liam just wants to brush his mouth over his jaw to feel the tickle of the coarse hair against his lips. The brightness that takes over his face whenever he laughs out this addictive giggle, that makes him look brighter than any flame.
It burns, a little above his navel before it drags through the rest of him. He hears Malay gasp quietly, but he focuses on Zayn’s face planted to the back of his eyelids. He smiles softly to himself, as his chest fills with a fondness that is stronger than the arousal curling under his navel. He is so affected by the other lad it makes him laugh sometimes.
“Okay, Liam,” Malay says firmly, making Liam open his eyes. His face has darkened with heat, and a drop of sweat slips from his hairline. “Where did you feel it?”
“Um,” Liam says, feeling a flare of embarrassment as he points to the middle of his stomach. He isn’t sure if that is where it starts or if thinking about Zayn just made him aroused again -
Malay doesn’t laugh though, but nods and wipes at the sweat on the back of his neck. “You weren’t feeling bad emotions? Anger, hurt?”
“No,” Liam says easily, shifting in his seat. He places his hands in his lap, feeling that fondness squeezing his chest like it is trying to knock the breath away from him, like looking at Zayn always does.
“Love,” Malay says quietly, grinning at him and then frowning when Liam feels a rush of heat leave his skin. “Use that to make it go away. That’s what grounds you.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Liam mumbles. “If love makes me hot -”
“Focus on that emotion, Liam,” Malay interrupts. “While containing the heat inside of you, where you indicated. You need to learn not to let your emotions flare you up.”
He sucks in a breath, focusing on how cold Zayn’s fingertips are and it works enough to drop the temperature a bit more so than doing what Malay asks him to do. He does try though, to keep the heat settled above his navel but he can’t keep it from trailing across his skin and settling around his bones.
“That is your solar plexus,” Malay goes on, turning back in his seat to the large bookshelf that sits behind his desk. “Which, I should have expected.”
He pulls a book out, a thin paperback with at least a dozen sticky notes popping out of the sides. “It is the third chapter, read it. And next time we meet tell me what you think that means for you.”
Liam takes the book, flipping through it until he finds the third chapter. He only grazes his eyes over it, picking up words like self acceptance and personal control that makes a sinking feeling wash away that warm feeling he had felt a moment ago.
“Okay,” Liam mutters, shifting up from the chair.
“Oh and Liam,” Malay says, holding up his finger before digging in the drawer beside him and pulling out an envelope. “You’ve received another letter from your father, do you want me to throw this one away too?”
Liam stills before he can get to the door. “Yeah, burn it.”