Archive of Our Own

It’s sticky… it’s wet… and it’s so wrong, but it’s so easy…

“So how do you want this to end?” Niall slurs, with a pop from his lips as he pulls his mouth off of Zayn’s cock.

Zayn can’t really recall how this all began. It has been going on for… years, now, if he really thinks about it. It’s always in a drunken rush or a high haze. Neither of them have to think about it, and that’s why they do it.

Zayn opens his eyes and looks down at his friend settled between his legs. Zayn does not really understand how Niall is single. Sure, he may not be in love with the guy, but he can admire how bright Niall’s lips look post-blowjob; admire the thickness of his cock as he jerks off desperately; admire the not-so-subtle moans that slip from his lips. And to top it all off, Niall is his best friend, so there is another layer of appreciation that Zayn may see over anybody else.

“How close are you?” Zayn whispers, his hand wandering down his own body to grab his dick.

“Pretty close, how about you?” Niall responds roughly, his voice sounding wrecked from the blowjob he just gave.

“Nearly there,” Zayn suggests while lightly licking his lips, “I could probably get off relatively easy if we just grind.”

“Fine by me, but you’re doing all the work,” Niall chuckles as he lies himself next to Zayn on his bed.

“God, make me do everything, don’t ya?” Zayn laughs as he rolls on top of Niall.

“Oh yeah, and that fifteen-minute blowjob I just gave ya was all fun and games for me, huh?” Niall quips as his body involuntarily arches into Zayn.

Zayn then aligns his body on his best mate, resting his cock on top of Niall’s.

“Oh…” Niall whines every so lightly as Zayn moves his hips against him for the first time. Zayn feels Niall’s leg open up beneath him, wrapping themselves around his waist to keep the friction in place.

“Yeah, touch me,” Zayn demands as Niall’s hands urgently cling to his back, shallowed claw marks now stretching up Zayn’s body (though very faintly given that Niall tends to have very short nails due to the bad habit of chewing on them when his nerves overtake him).

Surprisingly, Niall’s face surges upwards and desperately kisses his friend. It is not like kissing is completely foreign to them. Though, Zayn is typically more used to it when they are stoned, when everything is slow and lazy and unintentional. But this time they are drunk, which usually means direct and quick. Zayn won’t argue with Niall’s lips though. They are both about to cum, kissing comes rather naturally. Given the circumstance, Zayn believes he is way passed to point to be objecting to a kiss as he humps his mate.

Their kiss deepens as tongues swirl around each other. Niall’s hands quit the attention on Zayn’s back and land upon his cheek bones, Niall keeping the kiss intact. Zayn is once again surprised by the intimacy Niall currently acts upon, but again, it’s Zayn and Niall. It’s really not that surprising.

Zayn allows his full body weight upon Niall so he will be able to grasp Niall’s face as well. This feels really good; Niall feels really good. Zayn oddly enjoys the recent growth of facial hair upon Niall’s cheeks. It’s quite the change from the usual hairless birds he’s accustomed too, but the fuzz upon Niall’s cheeks adds a new kind of texture that Zayn does not mind dragging his fingers across.

But… Niall’s cheeks feel damp, which they shouldn’t unless he’s crying. And he shouldn’t be crying with all the pleasure they are experiencing. And Niall would tell Zayn if he was in any pain right now, Zayn reminds himself, batting away the thoughts in his head. The liquid must be leftover pre-come or spit from the blowjob earlier. At least, that’s what Zayn tells himself.

Zayn breaks the kiss to focus on the issue at hand, well the issue in both his and Niall’s groin. He rests his forehead upon Niall’s so all of his attention switches to his hips, him rhythmically rubbing himself against the boy below him. He hopes for Niall to be feeling as good as he does. Moans and whines continue to stream out of their mouths. Zayn can feel himself approaching the point of no return as the whimpers of Niall start to lessen. Something feels a little off. Zayn feels like he is being watched, but that cannot be the case since they are in a near pitch black room with the door shut. Niall’s roommate Harry passed out long ago before this started, so it could not possibly be him either.

Opening his eyes to investigate, the first thing that Zayn notices is bright blue eyes looking up in awe of him. Zayn swears he sees stars in Niall’s eyes for how brightly he gazes at him, something that unnerves Zayn to his core.

“What you lookin’ at there, buddy?” Zayn awkwardly laughs.

“You just… look so beautiful,” Niall sighs with a smile.

“What?” Zayn stutters, his hips quit moving given the conversation.

“Bro! Uh, I mean…” Niall attempts to reiterate.

To take focus away from the conversation, Niall quickly wraps both of his hands around his and Zayn’s cocks, jerking them fast against each other.

“Oh, fuck, Niall,” Zayn grunts, already being so close to orgasm just a few moments ago, “I’m gonna-“

“You can, cum for me,” Niall orders, gripping both of their dicks hard.

“Shit!” Zayn groans, cum shooting out of his cock onto Niall.

“Fuck…” Niall whines as he follows a few strokes afterward. Zayn collapses on top of Niall, both of them exhausted after their rush of energy. Once their breathing return to their usual speed, Zayn rolls of off Niall to stare up at the ceiling.

“Great as always mate,” Zayn chuckles while he comes down from euphoria.

“Mind cleaning up?” Niall yawns, “You kinda made a mess of me.”

“Oh, that was all me?” Zayn playfully glares, “I seem to remember you being the one to make us cum.”

“Zaayyynnnn…” Niall whines.

“Fine, fine,” Zayn gives in, reaching down off of the edge of the bed to pick up any random cloth to wipe them off with. Zayn first cleans off Niall, trying to be as gentlemanly as possible, before wiping off anything left over on his stomach.

Niall’s eyes fight to stay open as he watches Zayn take care of him. Finally, Zayn throws the random cloth back onto the ground, Niall’s eyes continuing to flutter.

“All fucked out, huh?” Zayn questions.

“You tend to have that effect on people,” Niall agrees, “At least from the rumors I’ve heard.”

“My best friend gossiping about me? My god,” Zayn chuckles, “Can’t trust anyone these days.”

“I haven’t said a thing.” Niall struggles to word, “Just… what I heard… you can trust me… more than anyone… promise…”

“Go to sleep bud,” Zayn orders while he lightly drags his fingertip over Niall’s eyelids, forcefully closing them for Niall, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mhm,” Niall mumbles as he rolls over, curling into the wall his bed is against.

Zayn watches Niall for a moment, making sure his friend does drift to sleep as he was told to. Light snores quickly spill from Niall’s lips, granting Zayn a breath of reprieve. Zayn stretches back over the edge of the bed to find his underwear to slip on before he sleeps. He always found it kind of weird for two friends to sleep in bed naked together. He doesn’t know why that is the line he drew in the sand, and why sucking dick didn’t make the cut, but he doesn’t argue with his usual conditions. Niall sleeps naked, Zayn usually doesn’t.

Once he reaches to the spot where he threw his underwear off at, the cloth feels oddly damp, which it shouldn’t, given they were dry when he removed them. Then Zayn realizes his mistake: the cloth he wiped Niall and himself clean with earlier was his underwear. And there is no way Zayn is sleeping in cum-soaked boxers.

“Niall,” Zayn whispers, “Psst, Niall?”

The snores continue.

“Niall!” Zayn shakes Niall’s shoulder to get his attention.

“What?” Niall growls, reminding Zayn he is never to wake up his friend before noon.

“I accidentally cleaned us with my underwear, can I borrow some of yours?” Zayn requests.

“Uh… yeah, you know which drawer,” Niall groans, before rolling back over.

“Thanks…” Zayn sighs as he rolls out the bed, his bare ass landing on the cold carpet. That’s when Zayn realizes it’s pitch black. Even if he could remember which drawer Niall keeps his underwear in, he wouldn’t be able to see it.

He will have to play a guessing game to figure it. Niall’s dresser only has four drawers, so it shouldn’t be too hard. He crawls over and opens up the first drawer. He feels around inside to touch folded t-shirts and sweaters. He can’t wear those as pants. He closes the bottom drawer and opens up the second highest, but what he finds is the last thing he expects.

The left side of the drawer contains rolled up jackets, but the right half… Zayn touches closed envelopes?

Zayn should not keep feeling around. This is Niall’s personal room; Zayn was given permission to wear some underwear, not snoop through his best friend’s cabinets. But Zayn is a little drunk still, and without really thinking about it: he grabs his phone, turns on its small flashlight, and pulls out the first envelope in the stack. As his light shines above the top of it, Zayn sees in Niall’s handwriting To Zayn Malik.

What Zayn thinks inspecting the letter. Why would Niall be writing things to him when they nearly talk every day? Looking at the next letter in the stack, he sees the next one is addressed to him as well. It’s a pretty large stack of letters for one person.

Zayn peeks over his shoulder to make sure Niall is still asleep, and he is. Zayn does not think too much harm could come from reading one of these. They’re addressed for him anyways; Niall wrote them for him. Perhaps Niall was going to give them to Zayn soon, maybe even tomorrow?

Quietly, Zayn opens up the first envelope and pulls out the letter. Unfolding it, he sees a date marked about 3 years ago, a short time after he first met Niall at university.

Dear Zayn,

I don’t know why I have been thinking about this a lot lately, but I have to get it off my chest. Maybe if I write it down I will get it out of my head.

I keep remembering back to the day I first met you, because I was going through one of the shittiest times of my life and you made it so much less shitty.

It was about two months into my first semester at the University of Exeter. I had a really good clique of mates at my dormitory, I started to get into the swing of classes, and things were finally feeling homey. I had known a certain fact about myself for a long time, but I often found reluctance in admitting in to the world. But it was the twenty-first century! If there was anytime to do it, it was now.

I came out as pansexual to my friends, because why the fuck not? They’re my bros. And honestly, they’re gay as hell.

But that’s not how they saw it. They told me off with a bunch of gay slurs, shunned me from hangouts, and would cast glares whenever they saw me. I didn’t even like going back to the dorm knowing the treatment they’d inflict on me. And given their reaction, I was terrified to tell anyone else about my sexuality and what happened to me because of it. I couldn’t even tell my family about this. I never felt more alone in my life.

About a week into that, I walked around the cafeteria trying to find a seat for dinner, and I couldn’t spot an empty table to save my life. Fear flowed through my veins, thinking I’d be forced to sit with that group again.

After doing one lap around the cafeteria, my heart pounded. But when I turned around to glance one last time, I saw… you. You there, trying to grow out facial hair for the first time given how patchy it was, sketching away on a notepad, with only a bowl of cereal on your large tray. A bowl of cereal for dinner? You fucking maniac.

So I slowly drift over to your empty table, your eyes occasionally looking at me before looking back at your drawing. I cautiously set my trey down and pulled out a seat. It was quiet, unnervingly quiet as I started to eat in between your sporadic glances. I felt like I was not wanted there, but you didn’t directly say it like my so-called friends did, so I didn’t move.

Finally, “Why are you here?” you asked rather coldly.

I froze, nearly choking on my food with your straightforwardness. But I had barely spoken to anybody in like… what, 8 days? I tried to think of something to hold my composure, maybe even a lie. But hell, everything just spilled out.

“I don’t know! I came out as pan a week ago, and now no one will talk to me, no one will sit me! I don’t even like going home, and I just saw you and this empty table because I know I wouldn’t be accepted anywhere else. And-“ I rambled to you, this stranger, as my voice became weak and shaky.

“Stop,” You ordered me. With food still hanging out of my mouth, I watched you carefully set down your pencil next to your tray. I was terrified.

“You don’t have to worry about that here,” You confirmed with a gaze that somehow peered deep into my soul, “You can sit with me as long as you need to.” And with that, you picked your pencil back up and continued sketching.

“Why- Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.

“Well if you can’t tell,” You chuckled, “I myself have qualities which are outside of my control that are disliked by other people. I’m not white in a white-majority country, and I’m Muslim in a country that isn’t. If I don’t like being treated negatively for the way I am, why would I do that to someone else?”

“You don’t think I have a choice in this matter?” I questioned, a thought that had been running through my mind all week. When my mates told me off, they kept saying I chose to be like this. I had started to believe them.

“Doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?” You replied, “You are who you are, and it does not matter why I think you are the way you are. I know these are near incomparable situations, but even if you do have a choice in the matter, I also chose to be Muslim. And if you don’t have a choice in the matter, then you are the same as why my skin is brown. Either way, I understand you then.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to contain the sob in the back of my throat, “I really needed to hear that.”

“Don’t worry about it, uh… Not to make this weird, but we just had a really emotional talk and I don’t even know your name? What is it by the way?” You requested from me.

“Niall! Niall Horan,” I quickly extend my hand to you, a little too excited that it seemed like I finally had a friend who accepted me for being… me.

“Zayn Malik,” You shake my hand, “But I must go. I have a class on the other side of campus I gotta get to.”

There must have been an obvious disappointment on my face, because you quickly followed that up with, “So, I’m studying to get a degree in education with a minor in art, so most of my classes are in the afternoon and evenings. I don’t usually have breakfast because I sleep through it. But I usually get lunch around 11:30 and dinner around six every day, if you happen to be here at the same time?”

“Yeah that’s my schedule too,” I lied.

“Sweet, see you around mate?” You ended with as you gathered up your belongings and left me at the table.

I was just blown away by you Zayn. And part of me thought maybe it was just a one-time occurrence that I should have just enjoyed for the moment, but the next day I left my morning class early just to make it your meal time. There you were: this time having food that was obviously for dinner as your brunch. You saw me and waved me over, conversation easily flowing without the need for such serious topics.

About a week into our friendship, my friend Harry defected from my old mates. As you and me were talking, he appeared in front of us with an uneasy facial expression. He quickly apologized for his actions, saying the guys got him all riled up over nothing. When I gazed over at you, I could see your eyebrows buried deep and your lip pouting. The only thing that could explain that would be you feeling protective of me in front of someone who hurt me. I could not deny that made something burn inside me.

He then admitted that me coming out gave him courage to comes to terms with himself, with his gender feeling extremely fluid and not having a proper label for his sexuality. People were just hot, he said. I saw you soften to Harry with his revelations while I shoot you glance, as questioning if I could ask Harry to join us. Somehow you understood and pushed out a chair for him.

I know it appears like I’m rambling about nothing, but you don’t understand how much meeting you meant to me and changed my life. You proved to me that people could like me just the way I am, and you made the world feel a little less cold. Before we talked, I felt so trapped and excluded by an identity I did not have any control over, and you were the first person accepted me for that identity.

I’m just trying to say… I hope in our friendship, I make you feel the same way. I really appreciate you for who you are.

Don’t ever change buddy,

Niall

p.s. unless you want to change, then I’ll support you 100%

Zayn couldn’t help but gleam as he finished up the letter. That letter was so sweet, and sincere, and so Niall. Niall was not to type to hide his fondness or affection for people. Zayn knowns Niall cares for him deeply, but this letter was so emotional. Zayn did not realize how profoundly he had changed Niall’s life by simply saying a few sentences to each other. It was the foundation of their friendship, Zayn just did not know that foundation helped define Niall’s self in the future.

He should really be happy with what he just read and shut the drawer. He should respect Niall’s privacy. But that letter made Zayn feel so warm and fuzzy inside. The fact that there were several more letters that could make Zayn feel just as good… it is all too tempting. The phrase if you’re going to do something wrong, do it right rang through his head. He already read one of the letters, something he should not have done, he might as well keep going.

So Zayn folds the first letter back into its envelope and sets it back down beside him. He picks the next letter up and opens it as well.

Dear Zayn,

Fuck, this is weird, so weird, but I gotta get it outta my head and I have no one I can talk to about this. Sure I could mention it to Harry, but he’s your mate too. And you know drunk Harry, can’t keep his fucking mouth shut and he may let it slip to either you or your roommate Liam so damn I’ll just say it here…

You touched me today. It wasn’t the first time you did, but… it felt different.

So, I was just chilling in my room, shooting the piss, when my phone pings. It’s a message from you and you tell me to meet you at our uni’s greenhouse because you got something to show me that reminded you of me. That’s all the way across campus from my dorm, but damn, I can never tell you no. I slip on my shoes and trot there as fast as I can.

“Took you long enough,” You said as I enter to the main hall of the botany department.

“So what do you have to show me?” I asked a little impatiently.

“Cutting right to the chase,” You huffed, “follow me!”

You started to jog down the hallway, though I was quite out of breath from my run to see you. I liked to think of myself as in shape, but spending evenings smoking at your flat was taking a hit on my lungs apparently.

You looked back and rolled your eyes, “Come on!” With that, you reach back and grab me by the wrist. I swear you full-on sprinted, me dangling violently behind you.

“Zayn!” I yelled as I struggled to keep up with you. But to no avail did my whines slow down your speed. You pushed open the doors to the greenhouse and we pass several types of colorful plants that the room grows through the dark winters of England.  

“There it is,” You claimed as you brought our feet to a halt. I did not understand what you meant until I saw your nose take a whiff of bright flower in front of you.

“It’s you,” You smiled as you showed the flower to me.

It’s a sunflower. And I get it, haha, all you guys joke ‘Niall is the human embodiment of sunshine’. With those bright yellow petals stretching out from brown center, similar to my brown roots below my blond-dyed hair. But that is not what shook me.

I looked down and noticed that your fingers were still absentmindedly wrapped around my forearm. And suddenly your fingers burned, but in the best way possible.

Like god-damn Zayn, for a brief moment I wished I was blind just so you’d have to pull me everywhere we go.

I then felt something beaming into my skull, so I gazed back up at your face to see you granting me the brightest smile I’d ever seen. As if you were so fucking proud of yourself for finding this flower that made you think of me. So fucking proud that I was there to see it with you.

“It’s beautiful,” I commented, unable to completely comprehend everything surging through my body.

I noticed the little wrinkles in the corner of your eyes as you turned your head back towards the flower. At the same moment, you finally let go of me.

And Zayn, you know I hate the idea of tattoos. I’m such a fucking weakling when it comes to my pain tolerance. You’re a fucking mad man for having them run up and down your body.

But in that moment, I wanted to tattoo your fingerprints around my wrists just so I would never forget how it felt to have your hands on me.

What the fuck, why the fuck would I think that?

You’re my best mate. I love you man. Why the fuck would I want a tattoo of your fingerprints on me?

I know you don’t have an answer for me, because I don’t either, which is why I’m writing this.

Thank you for showing me that flower, Zayn. It was really revealing, in a more questions than answers kinda way.

Your mate,

Niall

‘That was… different’ Zayn thinks to himself as he folds the letter back into its envelope. He barely remembers that memory himself. He could have been high as balls when he saw that flower and made Niall come see it. He does not have to read the rest, but he’s already came this far.

Niall was right in on regards. These letters are raising more questions than revealing in answers. Zayn must keep going.

He opens to third letter.

Dear Zayn,

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What just happened?

I didn’t mean to… I was just drunk… and…

It's the end of my first year at uni. You, me, Harry, and Liam were at some random house party to celebrate the end of finals… and to forget we had even taken them in the first place.

I thought the punch was nonalcoholic, so I kept pouring more liquor into my drink, only to learn two drinks later that the punch was actually already spiked. Strong. I was fucked up.

“Hey, I’m going to go out for a smoke. Wanna come with?” You asked me quietly as I struggled to stand up without leaning on you or the wall next to me.

“Uh, yeah, sure, fresh air sounds refreshing,” I slurred following you outside.

You shut the back door of this person’s house, giving us some privacy. I did not realize how loud that party was until the silence rang through my ears. I did not realize how drunk I was until there was nothing to distract me.

After a few moments, I looked over at you staring into the night without a cigarette in your hand. Your calmness shocked me given how out of control I felt.

“You alright there?” I asked.

“It all gets a little too much for me sometimes,” You replied as you finally pulled a cigarette out, “I get the point of celebrating and partying. But it’s a big switch from being alone for the past week focusing on revisions, to then be put into a house full of people I don’t know nor do I want to know.”

“We can go if you want,” I suggested, “I really don’t mind.”

“You’re made for this mate,” You answered while blowing smoke, “I’m not. Anxiety and all. Now that we know how I am, are you alright?”

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

“You’re literally shaking right now,” You explained obviously.

That’s when I noticed you’re right. It was such a warm spring day, but with the sun set, it was quite the chilly evening for May. I thought I was swaying because of the alcohol, but goosebumps lined my body as I vibrated to keep myself warm.

“Guess gym shorts and a tank top don’t hold in heat,” I agreed, rubbing my biceps for warmth.

“Come here,” You commanded, reaching your arm out for me. Without thinking about it, I stepped into your embrace. You had your right arm around my shoulders as I cuddled into your chest. You continually blew smoke, doing your best to avoid my face.

I couldn’t help but smirk at how warm your body was. I honestly could have fallen asleep for how comfortable I felt in that moment.

“I don’t know… I would have preferred a night in with just you, me, Liam, and Harry smoking, drinking, talking the piss. A little more intimate than this thing. Even if it was only you and me playing FIFA until the sunrise.” You described as you tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with your foot.

I lift my head to see the shadows cast across your face; the tiniest lines forming from your eyelashes and your beard. Everything in my vision blurred around your face.

“It means a lot you would offer to leave all this when I know you’re having a good time. You’re a really good friend Niall, one of the best friends I’ve ever had if we’re being completely honest with each other. Gonna miss you over break,” You told me, as the hand you had around my body lightly stroked my arm.

“You know I’m just a phone call away,” I mumbled, “Only gonna be two months…”

“I know both of those facts, just weird seeing you nearly every evening and then nothing,” I watched a cloud of warm air exit your mouth as you explained yourself.

“I could come visit you,” I suggested, “Ireland ain't that far away.”

“Wouldn’t want you to waste your money on lil’ old me,” You sighed.

“It would never be a waste if it was for you,” I confirmed.

You smiled at me, and I don’t know what came over at me. I want to blame the alcohol but…

I surged forward, my lips landing upon yours. There wasn’t tongue nor a makeout, but I kissed you. Your lips were so soft, but the stubble above and below your lips was so rough. The perfect combination in my opinion.

We both just stood there for a moment, not really reacting to the other. Then my chest started to pound. Fuck, you were just telling me how great of a friend I was, and then I kissed you? Were you going to freak out, yell at me, and never look my direction again? Given the history with my old friends, the possibility was not impossible. I was scared to even break the kiss knowing you would have to react once I done so.

And then… you laughed? Fucking laughed into my mouth, into our kiss.

“You’re fucking drunk!” You shrieked with a playful shove of my chest.

“So fucking drunk, Zayn,” I quickly admitted.

“Let’s get back to the party, I’m sure everybody is wondering where you are at,” You commented as you pulled me back inside, your arm still hanging around my shoulder.

While it did sting that for the most part you ignored my kiss, looking back I know I couldn’t have expected a better reaction.

You’re straight. Yeah, you spend all your time with the guys, but I’ve seen you out and about flirting away. You and Perrie have that off again on again thing for what feels like forever now.

So now that I am back in my dorm for the last night before I leave for summer holiday (thanks for your help getting me home by the way), sobering up while I scribble out this letter, I just want to say thank you. You called me your best friend tonight, and maybe the alcohol had me misinterpret that. And it was not your words that proved that tonight, but your actions.

You could have reacted so negatively to my mistake, but you didn’t. You rolled with the punches like you always do. You didn’t let my messy lips change how you saw me and who I am in your life. I’m just Niall and you’re just Zayn, as it should be. This really showed your character as a person, and I really appreciate that for how it is.

My brain was too fucking tipsy and blurry to say it tonight, but now I know: you’re my best friend too.

Gonna miss you buddy. Hopefully see you sooner than later,

Love always,

Niall

Zayn cannot help but warmth in his chest as he relived the moment that him and Niall became best friends. He remembers after coming back from holiday him and Niall were a lot closer, but he didn’t realize his reaction to technically their first kiss was what brought about this. He never really thought about how the anxiety from his previous coming out experience freaked Niall out after the kiss, so Zayn feels very relieved that his actions were able to calm Niall down from what could have been something very bad for both of them.

But the more Zayn reads, the more it makes him wonder what could be in the further letters. The events on the letters so far are still about two years ago. What other events occurred that could be on Niall’s mind?

Zayn peeks over his shoulder to confirm Niall is still sleeping, unknowing that his personal secrets were spilling into the eyes of his best friend. But there lays Niall, curled into the wall with the occasional snore leaving his body.

He can’t stop now. On to the next letter.

Dear Zayn,

I didn’t make it to Bradford over summer holiday. The money was a little too much. I was concerned we didn’t try too hard because of the kiss, but as soon as I saw you back at uni, I knew that wasn’t the case. We were closer, as if the summer we hit pause on our friendship and then we picked it back up. We never talked about that night again, but it was probably for the best. I wanted to pretend like it never happened too.

Last spring, you floated an idea to me and Harry about us three and Liam renting some house together. It would save money and we all spend our time together anyways. It was just economical, you argued!

But I shot down the idea, saying that it would be a lot for all of us to live together, that I had heard horror stories of mates ruining their friendships by getting a place together. I didn’t want to risk that with us, or so I thought.

You seemed a little hurt, but understood. Me and Harry would room together in a scholarship hall, while you and Liam looked for a house close to campus, eventually putting an ad online for a third roommate.

And that’s how we got Louis.

Louis is a great guy! I love him to death. But… the more time I spend at your house recently, the more I realize why I told you no in the first the place.

Your three’s house is the automatic group gathering place, me and Harry coming over all the time.

I recently came over to your house unannounced, because it’s weirder if me and Harry don’t come over than if we do. I walked in on a usual sight: you and Louis passing a joint between the two of you. But you two were… sitting unbearably close to each other on the couch. Might as well have been cuddling. And hey, that’s totally cool. A cuddle between mates is nothing.

In that moment though, that’s not what I thought. This flare of jealousy flooded through me. The next thing I knew, I had planted myself in the inch gap between you and Louis’s bodies.

“Umph!” Louis exclaimed as I pushed myself down.

“Starting the party without me I see,” I declared as I snatched the joint out of Louis’s hands.

“There’s a whole other couch over there Niall!” Louis quickly pointed out.

“This one looked more comfy,” I lied, taking a hit.

“This is the couch he always sleeps on,” You defended, wiggling to find a comfortable position against me.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why he picked this spot,” Louis mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

Life went on, as I tried my best to bury that feeling that shook me to the core. I don’t own you. We are best friends but that doesn’t mean you can’t touch our other friends…

Until it happened again. But this time it wasn’t any of the guys… it wasn’t even a guy.

You and your roommates hosted a party. As usual, me and Harry passed out on your couches as the party came to an end (though he mysteriously disappeared into Louis’s room in the middle of the night). So I’m lying on my favorite couch (as you pointed out), scrolling through twitter in the morning, when I hear a door and soft footsteps come down the staircase. I assume it’s you, hopefully  to make me breakfast.

“Morning mate,” I called out.

“Ah!” A girl screamed, quickly covering up her breasts.

My eyes shoot up to see a beautiful blonde bird wearing nothing but a man’s flannel shirt. She had not buttoned it up, though her hands now firmly cover up the entirety of her chest.

“I didn’t think anybody would be down here,” She awkwardly chuckled.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I laughed, “How about I close my eyes real quick and let you button yourself up?”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” She agreed with a smile.

So I covered my eyes and laid back into my pillow as I waited for her to finish.

“You can open your eyes now,” She finally sighed, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, uh, have a good night?” I cautiously question.

“Very good,” She gleamed, “Uh, I was actually trying to find the bathroom but I didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so peacefully asleep.”

“You actually already passed it when you came down the stairs. There’s another through the kitchen,” I pointed.

“Thanks,” She nodded.

“You a friend of Liam’s?” I dared to ask.

“Uh… no, Zayn’s actually.” She admitted as she stepped around the couch.

I shouldn’t have asked that question. It wouldn’t have done me any good knowing who she had stayed the night with. But I did. And it felt like a stab to the chest.

Because as she was in the loo, all I wanted to do was run up those stairs, jump in your bed, and kiss you the moment she walked backed in so she would know she’s not welcome here. To show her that you are not hers. To show her that you are mine.

I know I can’t do that.

Now I realize why I told you no to being roommates, because deep down I knew I would eventually feel like this. Every day I would have had to live with you and see you cuddled up with Louis, or see Gigi or any random girl you bring home. I would have felt jealous, and then guilty, every time.

I’m sorry Zayn. I hope I don’t accidentally ruin our friendship. It’s the last thing I want to do. I don't feel this all the time or every day. You’re my best friend above all else. But apparently I’m not good at sharing. I don’t like other people touching you. I’m never going to do anything about it though. You’re a free soul, and I have no rightful claim on you.

On the rare nights when I hurt the most, a small part of me wishes I was straight so I couldn’t feel this way about you. Just so I could fully appreciate you for being the friend you are and nothing more. I simply want to squish it, and compartmentalize, and never think about it again.

I will do my best for the both of us.

Your friend always,

Niall

Zayn now feels heartbroken as he finished up the letter. Niall has so much guilt simply for what… having feelings? Niall’s feelings make him who he is. And he has guilt about them? He wants to quit feeling? That would mean Niall wouldn’t be Niall.

Damn it, Zayn was so proud three letters ago that he helped Niall feel comfortable with his sexuality, and now to some extent, Zayn is causing Niall to wish he was different; to wish he was straight. That makes Zayn sick.

But to Zayn’s knowledge, Niall has never tried to be straight. He’s still happily pansexual, going on the occasional date with whatever person he wanted. While that letter seemed so sad, Niall does not act like it. Either Niall is a very good actor, or things got better. That is why Zayn has to keep reading: to figure out if Niall is actually content or faking it. If he’s faking it, Zayn has to do all in his power to make it better.

Zayn opens the next letter in the stack.

Dear Zayn,

It happened again… but this time, it wasn’t my fault?

So Louis got ahold of enough weed to make edibles. Ya’ll were so excited. It was just us guys as Louis said edibles were a lot stronger than anything we had tried so he didn’t want to be taking care of everyone if there were lots of people over (as if Louis is the one who takes care of people when he’s wasted).

Fuck, Louis was right. They were hella strong, maybe a little too strong for my taste. But guess who didn’t listen to him? Harry fucking Styles.

Harry ate one, didn’t feel anything. Ate another, still nothing. Grabbed another brownie while also taking a shot of tequila. Louis warned him to slow down: it takes a while for them to kick in, but Harry is too head-strong for his own good.

Another shot and edible. Then bam: Harry was floored.

Literally laying the ground with his world spinning. He began whining that he was going to throw up. Everyone else was too stoned to help out, but I stood up, pulled him to his feet, and walked him upstairs to the bathroom. He thanked me profusely, apologizing in a drabble that I could not understand. I set him next to the toilet with the lid up and his head hanging over the side.

I shut the door but felt guilt for leaving him there alone. What if he passed out and choked on his vomit? What if he fell into the toilet and drowned? I knew there existed a very low chance of either things happening, but the edibles created some pretty vivid images in my head, so I chose to stay close. Facing the bathroom door, I sank to the floor and leaned against the opposing wall, so I would be able to hear Harry if he called for help.

Being that high caused time not to feel real. Everything was slow and fast at the same moment. I would occasionally hear Harry moan, alerting me that he was at least alive, but I peacefully zoned out.

“Hey, where you been?” You knocked against my right side, sitting on the ground beside me.

“Just keeping an eye on Harry,” I looked over to you smiling widely at me.

“Door is shut mate. I don’t know what your eye is seeing,” You teased.

“An ear, Zayn. There, you happy for proving me wrong?” I sighed.

“One of my favorite hobbies,” You rested your head against the wall behind us.

“How does it feel?” I questioned.

“Everything is so slow. I feel so at peace,” You leaned heavily on my shoulder as if gravity was stronger than it usually was.

“Time’s not real anyhow,” I stated.

“Harry will be fine on his own,” You tried to convince me, "If you wanted to get your ass kicked in Fortnight?"

“I prefer being here I guess,” I lied.

“Niall, you are such a good friend, and a good person. Everybody is too baked to even think about anybody else, but here you are having your own solo-party in this danky old hallway just to make sure your mate is alright,” You explained, though I could tell you were having a difficult time keeping a consistent train of thought, “I really admire that you are who you are, you know?"

“I’d like to think any of us would do something like this for each other,” I admitted, “And what do you mean 'everybody is too baked to think about anybody else?' You’re up here with me, right? You thought of me?”

You look a little taken aback by my statement for how direct it was, as if it hit you that I was right: you were thinking about me. Your dark eyes gazed into my soul, though they also drifted down to my lips.

Then you kissed me. It was not forceful like the first time I kissed you; this was tender and slow. I couldn’t even fight it. I sunk into your lips as we both opened our mouths. Tongues gently snaked around each other.

The buzz of the weed enhanced every taste and feeling. I thought I would hate the taste of cigarettes in someone’s kiss, though my god you tasted fantastic. I licked around your mouth to capture all of could.

My hand grabbed ahold of your cheek, my thumb petting the beard that covers it. Rarely, our teeth will clank together, but that’s only because we’re learning each other’s rhythm. I’d honestly take a fist to the mouth if it meant I had the chance to kiss you again.

“Niiiaaaaaalllllllll.” I heard Harry moan from the bathroom.

We broke the kiss and looked at each other, a grin cemented upon your face.

“Sorry about that, I’m really stoned,” You chuckled.

“It’s alright. Just a kiss between mates,” I tried to sound more casual than I felt.

“Just a kiss between mates,” You slowly agreed.

“We could do that again,” I suggested.

And then I told a lie: “It doesn’t have to mean anything."

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” You repeated again as we kissed once more.

“Niall!” Harry yelled louder, “Will you come hold my hair back?”

“I don’t think you can ignore him much longer,” You whispered.

“Probably not,” I would have ignored Harry for hours, “You mind running downstairs to get him a glass of water?”

“Anything for you sunshine,” You stood up. You reached down and helped me to my feet. As I rocked into your body by the force of your pull, I was tempted to kiss you again, but I had to recognize the moment had passed. I was scared that if I kissed you too much in that moment, I may never get the opportunity again.

But you were still there holding my hand, our chest pressed against each other. Maybe that moment had passed, but perhaps another had begun.

Burp! A large sound echoed out of the bathroom.

“Seriously, get that water,” I laughed as I shoved you lightly down the hallway.

We didn’t kiss the rest of the evening, but we spent the remainder of the night with Harry in the bathroom. It was all easy and fun like we always are. I don’t think I’d ever want to change us, Zayn. Sure, the brief thought of a date would rarely filter into my mind, but when I really think about it, I have someone who I make out with when we’re not in the right state of mind who also happens to be my best friend. Like isn’t that the goal? All the benefits and none of the drawbacks?

Happy you are the way you are too mate,

Niall

Zayn stares dumbfounded at the letter. In his head, he always assumed Niall made the first moves, especially when it came to kissing. But as long as Niall remembered correctly, and Zayn can’t really defy him here, he kissed him first here. While he does not remember much of the night itself, he does recall that their friendship became a lot more … physical after that. Then it was like every party and high hangout, they would mysteriously disappear to make out in a bathroom or random bedroom.

Maybe Zayn likes kissing Niall more than he himself likes to admit.

On to the next letter:

Zayn,

Whoa, that was new… but damn, I don’t regret a second of it.

It started out like any of our nights actually… You and me making out in someone’s bathroom. We were spread out on the tile floor, you comfortably on top of me with a rug underneath us.

We had been at it for a while. I was surprised no one had come looking for us, nor asked to use the room for its actual purpose.

“Getting kinda late, isn’t it?” You broke our kiss.

And it was, definitely long past midnight. I assumed you were starting to sober up, ending our fooling around session.

“You got work tomorrow, right?” I sighed, a little let down that it was over for the evening.

“Yeah, nothing too early though,” You admitted, pushing back a lock of my hair behind my ear, “Just some hours at the café. If I went there hungover, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Hmmmm not wanting to stay out late anymore? Getting old Malik,” I joked with a quick grab of your ass.

Then I felt something, and I don’t mean emotionally for once. You throbbed against my thigh. I can’t act like it was the first time we were ever hard against each other while we made out, but it was the first time a grab caused such a reaction.

Your eyes jolted open, your cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as you rolled off of me.

“Take me home,” You looked me dead in the eye, the seriousness killing me.

“Okay…” I replied nervously.

You stood up and went to the mirror, fixing up your hair, you conceited twat, “You go down before me, and I’ll be out a few minutes after as usual?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you outside?” I asked cautiously. I stood up and straightened out my clothes, trying to hide my own erection.

“Mhm,” You responded shortly, directing all your attention toward the mirror.

I did my usual gig: carefully left the loo while I made sure there was no one waiting out in the hallway, made small talk with everyone in the party while I batted away any questions asking where me or you were at, said goodbye to the hosts, then waited for you outside.

I looked down the street in the direction of your flat. It’s the final year of your undergraduate, and things have changed a lot. You decided to get your own studio, saying you needed your own space. Louis and Liam got a smaller apartment together, while Harry and I finally moved off campus and found a place of our own as well. You come off as a broody loner Zayn, but I can sense you like us still around, ruckus and starting trouble. You picked a great place though, nearly everything was in walking distance from your flat: all the bars, uni, your job, even me.

You stumbled out of the house a few minutes after me. I turned around quickly and caught you as you fell into my arms, laughing your ass off.

“Yeah, I thought I was sobering up, turns out I’m not!” You laughed as you threw your arm around me.

“Or did you take another shot or two while I was waiting for you out in the cold?” I chuckled, helping you stand up straight.

“I’ll never tell,” You whispered, kissing me on the cheek.

“Let’s get you home drunkie,” I ordered as we made our way down the boulevard to your place, arm and arm around each other.

I pulled the keys out of your pocket as we rode the elevator up to your floor.

“That party was sick,” You mumbled leaning against the wall of the increasingly unstable elevator.

“How would we know? We spent half of the time cooped up in the bathroom,” I sighed under my breath.

The elevator creaked open and we walked down your hallway. The lights above our heads flickered as I put in the key, you mindlessly humming a tune I could not recognize. You shoved past me as you disappeared into the pitch-black flat. I entered myself and locked the door. Then when I flicked on the entrance light and turned around…

And there you were: standing shirtless, one hand behind the back of your head stretching, the other sensually rubbing over the tattoos on your chest, until your hand goes south, your fingertips grazing your well-defined abs. Were you flexing too? I couldn’t tell exactly, but there you were standing as the epitome of raw sexual energy, staring me down as if I was your prey.

You bit your lip and rolled your head back in the direction of your bed. You took a few steps and then flopped upon the mattress.

“Niiiaalllll,” You whined.

“So you could take off your shirt, but not your shoes?” I mocked as I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Help,” You whined as I watched you try to kick off your shoes, though it would have been impossible given the fact they were laced boots.

“God, what would you do without me?” I untied and slipped them off your feet.

“Sleep with shoes,” you chuckled as you tried to pull down your black skinny jeans without undoing the button or the zipper, “Too tight.”

“You’re worse than a bloody toddler,” I could not help but grin as I reached for your fly.

But as my fingers touched the teeth of your zipper, your hand forcefully landed upon the top of mine and pushed into your groin. There I felt you completely hard, your boner digging against the fabric. Now I knew what you meant by too tight.

“Zayn,” I whimpered as I tried to retract my hand, though you only pushed harder against me.

“Please,” Is all you could moan.

“We've been drinking,” I tried to remind you.

“So have you."

“I don’t want to do anything that you would regret,” I whispered, “Your friendship means more than anything to me.”

“I want to do this. I just didn’t want to do it in someone’s bathroom when they could walk in,” You explained softly, “I didn’t take any more shots before we left the house, I promise.”

“How drunk are you?” I questioned, because God damn simply feeling the outline of your cock made my pants feel tight as well.

“Drunk enough to know I want to do this, not drunk enough to where you’d be taking advantage of me,” You grinned, nearly repeating verbatim the line from Friends when Monica and Chandler first hooked up, the show I made us binge-watch last winter holiday.

“That’s the perfect amount,” I also quoted as I gripped you a little tighter, causing a low hiss from your lips, “At any moment you want me to stop, you just say the word, okay?”

“God damnit Niall, just take off my fucking pants,” You ordered but your voice sounded weak, needy even. It was more of you begging me than demand.

I pulled the jeans off, observing you in the unbelievably tightest pair of boxer briefs I’ve ever seen. Your erection obviously pushing against the fabric for desperate release. I gawked at how beautiful you looked. I can’t deny I hadn’t imagined this moment: actually seeing and feeling you. Now it’s here and you look better than I could have ever dreamed of.

“Come on babe,” You command as your hips restlessly thrusted into the air.

“My god, and you think I’m needy,” I laughed as I settled myself in between your legs. My hands traveled up your legs, gripped your thighs, and then I stretched my finger to the bottom lining of your briefs. I heard your breathing hitch as my hands moved even higher, grabbing onto the elastic band.

But then I was having fun. It was my turn to torment you a bit as you do in all those fit outfits you wear. I began smearing kisses up your right thigh as I continually dug my fingers underneath the band, brushing my fingertips against the sensitive hairs above your cock. You whined in response. I was in complete control, and I loved every second of it. Your pleasure was at my mercy.

I took it a step further, probably a little farther than intended, but I knew you would tell me to stop if you didn’t want it. My lips passed the lower lining of your underwear, softly kissing your balls through the fabric. My tongue licked up of the length of your covered cock. To test one final theory (or as just an excuse to further touch) both of my hands went under your body from beneath your thighs, firmly grabbing onto your ass and giving a strong squeeze. Your cock throbbed hard against my face, similar to experience in the bathroom earlier.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You begged me, one of your forearms covering over eyes.

“You don’t like this?”

“I don’t like that your hand is not wrapped around my cock yet,” You hissed desperately.

“I can change that,” I eagerly responded. Without my reluctance, I grabbed the elastic band and swiftly pulled them down to your knees.

Wow. I just stared for a bit at the magnificent piece of manhood in front of me. The length, the girth, the curvature of it, was perfect. If you ever fucked me, I knew it could easily hit that sweet spot without much pain.

To regain my active attention, you beat your cock against your stomach a few times. I didn’t know the sound of a dick being smacked on their own abs could sound so hot. My eyes jump up to your face, which has the cockiest smile I’ve ever seen. In that moment, you owned me and we both knew it.

I wrapped my fingers around your prick, giving a firm tug till I found your most sensitive spots.

You came nearly embarrassingly fast, not that I was judging. It was late, we were tipsy, and it was our first time doing something like this. I had no room to judge given how fast I was to cum as well. But you looked beautiful every second of it. The way you tried to hide your moans, the way that sexy v-shaped muscle above your groin flexex, and how you looked prettier than your best drawing when cum rained down upon your chest and abs.

“Holy shit Niall,” You sighed deeply, “It’s true what they say: guys do know a cock better than girls.”

“Takes having one, to know one,” I chuckled as I wiped my hand on your blanket.

You grabbed your old shirt off the ground and wiped yourself up. When you look up to me, your eyes immediately jolt down to my pants. I was so mystified by you, I completely forgot about my rockhard member.

“Should I?...” You started to ask.

“I can take care,” I commented, looking down at it myself, “Don’t want you doing anything you’d be uncomfortable with.”

But you leaned further up, your hand landing upon my upper thigh, “It’s the least I can do.” Your fingertips grazed my bulge, a shiver traveled up my spine, “Can you take it out for me?”

I stood up on my knees while I unbuckled my belt. Springing out of my pants, I exposed my cock just inches from your chest.

“That’s… that’s a penis,” You mumbled, not moving while you stared at it head on.

“It won’t bite, I promise."

You nodded while your hand slowly reached up. As your fingers brushed against my prick, it bounced in response, briefly causing you to recoil. I watched you have a little pep talk in your head, reminding yourself that cocks occasionally moved when hard.

It was a little painful at first, but you learned your way around my cock. You squeezed just right, ran the sensitive skin up and down my length, kept up a fast pace. You appeared just so focused on the task, you staring down my cock as if you were trying to intimidate it into an orgasm. It was so cute.

“I’m gonna-“ I attempted to warn you. You tried to pull yourself back to avoid the shot but neither of us had the reaction time to prevent anything. I came so hard, five large streaks now covering your chest. Both of us looked at splattering, not really knowing how to react to cumming on your best mate.

“Ew,” you chuckled, seeing the irony of being grossed out by cum when it was the intention of our actions.

“Sorry about that,” I reached over to hand you the shirt you had wiped with earlier.

“I don’t know what I expected to happen,” You cleaned yourself off, “A bunch of steamers to shoot out of your cock like a party popper?”

“Cumfetti?” I quipped.

You screeched in laughter, “That was the worst pun I’ve ever heard.” God damnit Zayn, why can’t you laugh all the time?

Then I laughed because you laughed. Eventually we settled into a comfortable silence, slightly awkward given it started to hit us that we had just gotten each other off. It was not uncomfortable enough to demand some alone time.

“Don’t mind if I crash on the couch? Home is a fifteen-minute walk from here. Too tired to trek that far.”

“I know how uncomfortable that thing can be,” You hinted at, “You can sleep in my bed if you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t want to kick out of your bed,” I suggested.

“I’d be in it too,” You explained, “I love you buddy, but not enough to give up my bed.”

“Yeah, sure then, if you don’t mind,” I peeled off my clothing besides my underwear.

“Not really a post-orgasm cuddler, so you know,” You drew a defined boundary while scooting over to make space for me. As fucked out as we were, it didn’t take more than a few minutes for either of us to be fast asleep.

We woke up in the morning and didn’t mention what happened the previous night. I nearly brought it up, so I knew where our lines now were, but the boys invited us out for a hungover brunch and that was that.

I don’t believe this changes anything. You appear confident enough in your heterosexuality to do what you want, and that is something I truly admire. I oddly find this all funny: one moment I could be giving you a handjob and the next be having dinner with our mates, as if it were nothing.

What I like most about is that this doesn’t change our friendship. We still do stupid things like get drunk as I wingman for you. While there is the tiniest stings of jealous as I do so, knowing I could give you the same as she most definitely will, I don’t want to change us. We are perfect just the way we are; no need to reinvent the wheel. And I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself if I damaged our intimacy by taking anything a step too far.

Your friend always,

Niall

Zayn peers over his shoulder to see Niall now lying on his black, still knocked-out cold. His mouth hangs agape with a little drool leaking out the side. He looks so innocent like this, even though he was just taking a dick up the mouth a little more than half an hour ago. Zayn does not know how Niall can balance those two personas: fun innocent party boy and someone who desperately sucks Zayn’s dick at any chance.

Guilt now rests in Zayn’s stomach. From all that he is reading, Niall should not be happy. It is not something directly he said, but the way he tells his story. The use of the phrase ‘as usual’ as if the repetitive behavior of Zayn hiding what they were doing annoys, if not hurts, Niall. Niall scoffed when Zayn mentioned how much he enjoyed the party, for Niall to point out they barely attended it. And the continuing theme of jealousy, towards his friends or towards Zayn’s female exploits. If Zayn was feeling this negatively about a sexual situation, he would have backed out by now. Why would Niall still be doing this?

Well now Zayn has that question to answer.

Zayn,

I’m fucking creepy.

We had one of our ‘get high and wank each other off’ sessions which is becoming increasingly frequent. I honestly believe we are starting to use alcohol and weed as a ruse to do what we do. Because when you text me ‘hey can I come over and smoke us up?’ I know what it means, and you do too.

But now you are asleep in my bed, blissfully snoozing off the high. I cannot sleep though, so here I lay… watching you sleep.

Which I know is so wrong and weird, but I cannot help it. You lay next to me, wearing only underwear with the sheets riding along the elastic band of your shorts. Your defined muscles rise and fall with each breath. The shadows from your eyelashes stretching indefinitely long.

I wish I could draw like you Zayn, because the image in front of me is beyond perfect. Even if I had twice the talent of you I still would not be able to capture all the beauty spilling from your skin.

But at least I can write a song. On a separate sheet of paper, I already have the rhythm and melody written out. Of course I will have to change a few facts so you won’t know it’s about you. So when I write ‘The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air’ I mean ‘the smell of your cologne’, and ‘In the pub that we met he's got his arms around you’ it’s actually ‘In the lunchroom we met you got your arms around her’. Sure it’s not subtle, but it will mask what I’m feeling for now.

Because I get it now: I’m so far gone for you. It’s far too late to pull back. It’s like I’m rolling down the side of a mountain, at such speed I can't stop until I hit the bottom. But I will happily continue on my way because there are rare nights when I touch your skin and feel you lips on my chest, and somehow that makes very bruise I received from the fall worth it.

I know I cannot tell you this because it really does not matter. You continue to say you’re straight no matter how commonly we hook up now. But as someone who is pansexual, I know sexuality is more fluid than society gives it credit for. Technically, you can hook up with men and still be hetero-romatic.

There is a small fact that does help me sleep better at night. When I look at your type of girl, Perrie, Gigi, etc. wanna know what they have in common? They kinda look like me. With the blonde hair and bright eyes… So at times like these when I watch you sleep in bed, imagining how easy you and I could be, I like to think that in a world where you were emotionally bisexual or gay, you and I could be a thing. It appears I am already your type seeing the similarities and how often we hook up.

Maybe in a parallel universe, you’re kissing my forehead after some sensual love making and you’re whispering in my ear all the things you love about me. Maybe there’s a parallel universe where we share your studio flat instead, where we don’t feel the need for walls in between us. But in all actuality, both of those are as likely as a universe where us five are in a world famous pop band. I shouldn’t focus on these fantasies.

Speaking of those asshole. I know another reason why I cannot tell you any of this, and unsurprisingly it is because of our friends. Those little shits are always cockblocking.

Harry and Louis ended whatever they fuck they were doing. While they appear on good terms and remain friends, we cannot claim our group is unscathed by the situation. There still exists the smallest tensions during get-togethers. They don’t hangout on their own anymore; it’s always in a group. It’s like they want to avoid each other, but they can’t. Because it is true they care about each other immensely, both platonically and romantically, and now they are stuck between a rock and a hard place, where being apart and being together hurts. I would never want that for us.

I don’t think they get it yet, but I know why they broke up. They both had too much to give for only one person at this young age, if at any age. Louis with his creative wild side and Harry who is so unshamingly himself… it’s like they were so perfect for each other it was too much. While their love was beautiful, it was nearly a crime to share it only with another.

That’s the exact reason why I can never tell you how I feel. I don’t mean in the way of ‘you are out of my league’. I don’t believe in that concept, but in the sense of I don’t ever to limit you. You are you, unbounded and artistic and… too much for me. Too much for anyone really. I wouldn't want to bound you while your potential is still forming.

It’s really too bad I will never tell you how I feel though, because seeing you right now, all I want to ask is… Zayn, do you believe in soulmates? Because I wouldn’t mind watching you sleep for the rest of my days.

Yours truly,

Niall

Zayn slowly folds up the letter, as if he is feeling the emotions of the writing through the paper like braille. All of Niall’s words are real and honest. Zayn now feels guilty for reading something so intimate. It feels completely unconsenual, as if Zayn is watching him at a zoo with Niall unwilling trapped behind the glass.

But Zayn does not know how straight he is anymore because… oh no, oh no. The only thing keeping Niall together was the idea that if Zayn wasn't straight he would have fallen for Niall… but Zayn isn’t so sure of the fact anymore and Niall knows it. Dread now fills him. There are two more letters left, and Zayn remembers a lot has happened from the date of the letter he just read to the present day.

Things could get a lot worse.

Zayn,

Forget my last letter, because I was completely mistaken with the idea that there was nothing more beautiful than you asleep next to me.

I was way wrong because I now know there is nothing more beautiful… excuse my vulgarity… than how you look with your lips wrapped around my cock.

It was a usual evening, us both chilling and smoking at your house. We cuddled up on your couch, passing the blunt back and forth while we giggled away.

“Thanks for coming over,” You blew smoke out of your mouth, “You always know how to relax my nerves.”

“No, thank you. I was having a really shitty day. I needed this.”

I snatched the blunt out of your hand and took a hit, but it was extremely harsh. I coughed a bit as I handed it back to you, “There isn’t much left, you can have the last of it.”

You examined and the blunt and scoffed, “There’s definitely enough for both of us. Here, I’ll show you how.” You pulled the blunt against your lips and took in a slow drag. Not that surprising. But the next thing I know, your right hand is on the back side of my head, pushing me towards you. Your lips press against mine and you pry my lips open with yours. Hot smoke passes between lips into my mouth.

For the first time in my life, I understood the words ‘I needed them like oxygen’.

You pulled back with the smuggest smile as the smoke escaped through my lips in a parting breath.

“I should never doubt your abilities,” I chuckled, “You sure there isn’t one more hit left for us to share?”

“Check my lungs,” You suggested as your head drifted towards mine. I grabbed your face and we lazily made out on the sofa. I would happily waste hours of the day if we could do this and nothing else.

“I couldn’t find anything,” I huffed trying to catch my breath, “Let me keep searching.”

“God, weed makes me so horny Nialler,” You whined as you started kissing down my jawline.

“I am quite aware of that fact,” I attempted to play it cool.

“So fucking horny,” Your lips suckled along the veins of my neck, “I could really go for a blow job.”

“Oh really?” I nearly gasped.

“Mhm,” You nodded as your hands rolled my shirt up to my armpits, “But I am a man of honor, so I wouldn't expect one’s good deed to go unpunished.”

“Well you won’t hear me complain about such a transaction,” I whimpered as your lips left my neck and teased my right nipple.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Your sweet mouth traveled down my abdomen, “You’ll need to tell me if I’m doing anything wrong or could improve on.”

“I doubt you will hear me complaining,” I admitted as you moved to the floor and settled in between my legs. With our joint effort, we wiggled me out of my jeans. But I could still see some apprehension in your eyes as we watch my member’s growth in length before our eyes.

“You alright there?”

“Yes, I want to do this,” You then corrected, “I mean, I really want that blowjob.”

“I could always give you one without…” I hinted at.

“I really appreciate the sentiment,” You answered sternly, “But all I really want for you to do is tell me to shut up and suck your cock.”

“Shut up and suck my cock?” I commanded extremely weakly.

You pressed a soft kiss on the tip of my dick as your hand pumped gently at the base of my shaft. Your tongue slithered across my head, during which I could not help but moan. You gradually sunk deeper into it. You could only make it halfway down the length, but that wasn’t bad for your first try.

“Wow,” You commented in relief, “This doesn’t taste as bad as I thought it would.”

“Just gotta wash it every day like any other body part,” I replied bluntly, only wanting you back to my dick.

“Tastes a lot different than pussy,” You hummed, “But nothing worth whining about.” You seemed to sense my desires because your lips then wrapped back around me.

I wish I could have taken a picture of this moment because this type of beauty deserved to be hung in a museum. I gazed down my body at you, your cheeks hollowed like when you pull a drag from your cigarette. Your head bobbed up and down as your tongue was doing unspeakable things to me. Your fist held me firm at my base, the skin pulled back, as a way for it to look like you were taking in more of my length than you actually were, but you would never hear my criticism.

And then you looked up at me, with those bright brown eyes searching for any sign of confirmation that your efforts met what was good. Fuck Zayn, why you gotta look at me like that? Because I literally felt my heart tearing in two and I have no idea why.

All I did set my right hand upon your cheek bone and stroked your skin so gently with my thumb, “So good babe. You’re earning something nice from this.”

Your eyes jolt at the reminder that you’d also be getting head too. You then sucked tighter, gripped me harder, and saliva ran down my length.

This is too much for me; you’re too much for me.

I quickly pushed you off as I grabbed myself. Within a few tugs, I came all over myself. Thank god you rolled my shirt up minutes before. I then looked up at you, now standing up straight with the surest look of accomplishment I have ever seen, “Well, now I know I can get both genders off with just my mouth. Gonna put that on the resume.”

“Don’t get too cocky there,” I winked, “There are a lot more than two genders.”

“Niall, come on,” You rolled your eyes, “Can’t you just be grateful?” You then grabbed your bulge and shook it at me.

“Have something there for me?” I leaned up.

“Is my best mate gonna return the favor?” You unbuttoned your pants. 

“What are best friends for?” I wrapped my hands around your waist, you pulling your pants down as I squeezed your ass. I swear I have heard these words in a porno before.

Your cock nearly smacks me in the face as it springs free, you quickly kicking all of your clothes off. I don’t start as cautious as you did; I’m much more experienced at this than you are. You filled my mouth with half your length easily, but mama didn’t raise no quitter.

I slowly stretch out my throat, taking further inch after inch. I steady myself by gripping your waist firmly, cautiously warning you that I couldn’t even take one thrust from your hips. Soon I feel your trimmed bush brush against nose as I take in your scent. A slow moan travels around your cock as my tongue messages the underside of it.

“What the fuck Niall…” You whispered.

I quickly pull off your cock, gazing up at you because I assumed I did something wrong.

But your eyes looked so soft yet surprised at the same time, “Don’t stop. I just don’t understand how the hell you can do that so good.”

“It’s just a cock,” I chuckle as I wiped some precum off my face, “It’s not that difficult.”

“Give a lesson to my future girlfriends, yeah?” You chuckled as you lightly swayed your cock towards my face.

I rolled my eyes, and just to shut you up, I quickly took you back into my mouth. A pleasure filled hiss escaped your lips as your head continually hit the back of my throat, the occasional gag suppressed by your member.

Eventually your hands rest on my cheeks, holding me delicately as I continued to work you. I could feel the occasional shudder from your hips: I could tell what you wanted.

“Niall?” You questioned, “Do you mind if I…?”

I nodded and braced myself as your grip upon my skull tightened. You thrusted roughly into my mouth, your cock going further down my throat than I thought it could. I won’t protest though; couldn’t even if I wanted to. Even if at times I could barely breathe and had to suppress a gag so I wouldn’t bite you, the swears of my name that leaked from your lips were worth every second.

“Yeah, take it,” You demanded as your balls slapped against my chin, “You like me fucking your mouth?”

“Mmmmmm,” Is all I could muster as a sound, my eyes beaming up at you as I watched your body rock into me. Our eyes met, you biting your lower lip as you used my throat.

“Mind if we trade places?” You breathed heavily after a few minutes of thrusting, a light coat of sweat covering your body, “I haven’t done this in awhile I guess.”

You laid on the couch with myself now settled between your legs. Looking at you like this, waiting for me to do anything gave me a filthy idea. I lifted up your legs and placed your thighs over my shoulder, your feet dangling behind my back, bring my face even closer to your groin.

“What are you doing down there,” You squawked as your body jolted.

“You trust me, right?” I questioned as I grasped your cock.

“Of course,” You answered.

“This gonna feel a little weird for a moment,” I responded, “But it will feel great.”

You nodded as I stuck your cock in my mouth and coated it in saliva. I then wrapped my hand around your dick, jerking you off fast. I placed my lips against your thigh, slowly kissing my way towards my planned destination. My tongue then licks a thick stripe against your balls.

“Whoa buddy,” You wiggled, “Don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Give me a moment,” I pleaded. As my tongue teased and worked you, you slowly sunk comfortably into the couch. Sucking on your balls, pleasure-filled grunts once again flowed from your lips.

“Holy shit,” You groaned, “No one’s touched me like this before.”

“Was I right, or was I right?” I winked.

“Get that tongue back to work,” You demanded desperately.

You looked so wrecked like this: your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as you thrusted your hips into my grip. I felt you getting close as your dick throbbed and your thighs tried to squeeze me into your crotch.

“I’m gonna,” You panted, “Please, suck em.”

Doing as I commanded, I sucked both of your nuts into my mouth, licking ravishly against them.

“Look at me,” You somehow understood though I had my mouth full. You opened your eyes and stared down at me as I gazed back at you with your balls in my mouth and your cock nearly pressed against my face. I needed you to look at me. I needed you to know that this was my moment, that I was doing this to you like no else could.

Then a fountain of white exploded, drops landing on both me and you. Cum rained down, covering my face and your stomach.

“Sorry, I…” You whimpered as I milked the last out of you until you were too sensitive to be touched.

“It happens,” I laughed as I licked you off my lips.

You shot me a confused look, as if you were a little grossed out that I wanted to swallow you, “Do you want a towel or something to wipe your face off?” Then your eyes trailed down my body, seeing my chest covered as well, “Or maybe a shower?”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I chuckled, “Care to join me?”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your head, “How about you do that, and I’ll get out my bong and order us a pizza?”

“Sure?” I agreed cautiously as I went to your bathroom.

I really do not understand the lines you draw. I suck your cock but then you act like showering with me crosses a line. As if sharing that space creates an intimacy that you do not want to be a part of, but spending all evening making out is just a physical release.

I don’t comprehend everything you do, but perhaps that is why I like you, perhaps that’s why I keep coming back to this. You always keep me guessing, as if once I am sure I understand you, you go off and do something completely unexpected.

Though part of me wishes I had something I could plan on… or expect… because I know we can’t do this forever.

Niall

Zayn sighs as he refolds the letter into its envelope. He swallows down a feeling of guilt. He’s using Niall. That’s easy to see now. Zayn takes and takes and takes… sure, he gives Niall some too. Niall gets off as well. But Niall deserves better than this. Niall is always the one bending his standards and needs to keep Zayn happy, and maybe keep Zayn in this arrangement.

Why would Niall put up with this? Niall can do better; easily obtain all the things he’d want from someone if he so made the move to.

Deep down, Zayn knows Niall deserves the best. While this may be the best thing for Zayn, it’s not for Niall.

As Zayn dreadfully grabs the last letter, he notices the writing on the outside is written rather messily… perhaps even frantic. The last few letters appeared so calm and articulate, but the writing on this looks so different.

Dear Zayn,

I think I’m in love with you.

I don’t know how I hadn’t considered the possibility until I saw and learned what I did tonight… But now that I have a word for it, it all fits into place, which is the last thing I need right now.

As nearly all of these letters have started out: we were at a house party getting smashed.

I drank and drank, because at this point I think I’m using alcohol or weed as a way to get close to you. Because I don’t feel closer to anyone than in those brief desperate moments we share in a haze of numbness and passion.

It’s wrong, I know, to use a substance for that. I did not believe there was any other way to express such emotions for each other. Well, emotions for me, actions for you.

You disappeared for a while, and drunk me got worried for your well-being because I always worry about you guys when we’re drunk, but I worry most about you.

I stumbled up the stairs expecting to find you in the bathroom trying not to vomit. But as I turned the corner into a hallway, I found you: pressed up against a wall.

I wish I could say that was an uncommon sight. You still have the occasional hookup with girls, because you are allowed to. Normally it was a girl pressed against the wall, not the other way around.

But it was not a girl you were snogging with. Oh no: it was Louis.

I froze as you two were so engrossed with one another you did not even notice me watching. My world stopped as I prayed my eyes were deceiving me, hoping I was so drunk this was some mirage my brain was making up. As I heard the wet sounds of your mouths colliding, I knew it was not the case. You were kissing another boy who wasn’t me.

I stumbled backwards down the stairs, my hand grasped desperately to the wall. This didn’t make sense… that… that was our thing, that you did with no other boy but me.

The alcohol didn’t help anything as rage flooded through my body. I know it is childish, but I never wanted to see that happen again. But I know I had no place to make a scene of it all… but I knew someone who did. I was tattle-tailing, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Harry!” I yelled running back into the midst of the party.

Of course, it did not take long to find Harry given his size and aura. He turned around and cast me smile, “What’s going on Nialler?”

“Okay, don’t freak out, but I think you have the right to know this,” I lied, all I wanted him to do was freak out.

“Making me a little nervous there bud,” He awkwardly chuckled.

“I think I caught Zayn and Louis…” I replied.

“Oh, I know,” Harry sighed.

“You know?!” I hollered.

“Yeah, uh, Louis talked to me a while back saying he wanted to make a move Zayn, but also wanted my permission before doing so. He didn’t want our group to be even more weird than it already is. I laughed when he suggested it. I said yes just because I wanted to see him fail, but he said he had proof Zayn was not as straight as he said he was. Guess he was right,” Harry explained nonchalantly.

“But you dated Louis,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but we're moving past whatever we were, and what better way to mend our friendship than letting him make out with our hot friend?” Harry continued to elaborate on, “Louis mentioned wanting to take Zayn on a date. I didn’t think he would say yes, but if you caught them kissing in the hallways…”

“How could you do this?!” I shouted, “Don’t you care about me at all?!”

Fuck. I meant to say Louis. I was supposed to say don’t you care about Louis at all. But I said me, because that’s what I actually meant in my heart.

“And what do you mean care about you…?” Harry’s eyes opened wide once understanding what I meant, the realization hit him like a pile of bricks, “Oh… Niall, I’m so sorry, I had no idea...”

My eyes burned red with tears as I pushed around my roommate. I had to talk to one more person to ensure this made sense. I got the Louis side of the story. I needed the you part.

I searched and searched, and after five minutes I find Liam and some girl chatting in a vacant corner. The girl gave me a friendly wave, but I ignored her as my eyes locked onto Liam.

“You alright there?” Liam questioned with honest concern in his eyes.

“Louis and Zayn: what do you know?” I barked directly. Liam looked at the girl regretfully, and she sensed that we needed a moment alone. She kissed Liam on the cheek as him and I stepped out to the back patio.

“I didn’t know it was Louis, but I knew there was some guy…” Liam mumbled.

“How?” I questioned.

“Being the good roommate and clean freak I am, when Zayn lived with us I’d occasionally wash Zayn and Louis’s clothes. To sound even weirder, I could start to tell their clothes apart even when they weren’t wearing them. One day I was picking up clothes off of Zayn’s floor to wash, when I noticed a pair of underwear on the ground that wasn’t his… shit the five of us are way too close now that I say it out loud… I didn’t think they were Louis’s but I could definitely tell they weren’t Zayn’s,” Liam tells me.

Mine. I remember the time I was rushed and couldn’t find my underwear in your messy room. Liam found my underwear.

“To be honest that wasn’t too weird. It could have been yours or Harry’s if you two had changed in his room. But a year ago when he still lived with me... I had stayed the night at Danielle's house, but she had work early the next day so I went home after we had… uh well anyways. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake anyone up, but as I came around the corner of the kitchen, I saw Zayn naked showing someone out. Even though it was quite dark, I noticed the hair of the person was short and the person said goodbye in a deep voice. I quickly hopped back so Zayn wouldn’t see me. Our group is pretty open about sexual expression, so I felt if he was comfortable in being gay or bi he would have told us, so I never mentioned I saw that out of respect for his privacy,” Liam further explained.

That was also me.

“But since Louis lived with us at the time, I knew neither of those instances would have been him… maybe Zayn just needed some random meaningless flings to figure himself out?”

Random?... Meaningless?... Flings?... is that all I am to you?

“Why are you acting so surprised? I assumed if he had told anybody this stuff, it would have been you,” Liam asked me with a slap on the shoulder. Then I felt the tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t even stop them, “What’s wrong?”

“I gotta go!” I yelped as I hopped off the patio and ran around the house.

“Niall!” I heard Liam yell, but as the distance grew between me and him, his calls disappeared into the night. I was running home but I didn’t know why. I knew I was not going to feel better there. Everywhere was tainted with you.

What do I do now, Zayn?

Should I feel good knowing that I helped you find yourself? That I was a step on your path to self-realization and acceptance?

Well I don’t, no matter how shitty that sounds. I didn’t want to be a piece of the puzzle. I wanted to be the puzzle.

I could ignore whatever feelings I had when I believed they didn’t matter, because in no way in this world could you ever be with me, because you couldn’t be with men at all.

I always assumed that if you did like men, it would have automatically been me. I know I don’t own you or anything. You are your own person who can do what you want to.

But now I know Zayn… it’s not that you don’t want men… you just don’t want me… a nd now my feelings matter even less than they ever had.

You used me. Well I used you too. We used each other. You used me because you never thought of the possibility of me getting hurt. I used you because I lied when I said it all could mean nothing.

I was so scared of rejection and losing the little part of you I had that I didn’t do anything. I rode this car into a wall. Now Louis is doing all the things I wanted to do. Am I mad at both of you? Yeah. But am I more mad at myself for not doing anything? Hell yeah.

Just what the fuck Zayn... You always made me hide in a bathroom or take you home. Why does he get to make out with you in the hallway? Is there… is there something wrong with me? That you don’t want people to know about me, but you don’t mind them knowing about him?

And now I’m writing this letter and tearing apart every questionable instance in the three years of our friendship along with myself. As I hear Harry enter our flat calling for me, I know I can no longer run from this. I now have to face the music and reality.

Because, fuck it, now I know I love you Zayn.

Since nothing can possibly feel worse than this; worse than love,

Niall

Zayn blinks several times, not believing all that he just read. He has definitely sobered up by this point so he knows the words did not move around and make up such a story.

He feels like he violated Niall’s trust. He peered into the deepest and darkest corners of his best friend’s soul. Even if the letters were addressed to him, he did not have permission for such intimacy.

He just read his best friend’s heart being broken in half, and it was his fault. Zayn wishes so hard that there was another letter in the stack that proves Niall is alright deep down underneath it all. But the drawer is now empty. Zayn folds up the last letter and stacks them back into the drawer where he found them, so there exists no proof of his snooping.

When he finally turns around to face his friend, Niall looks like a porcelain doll in Zayn’s eyes. His skin shines so white in the moonlight, and after such a revealing set of letters, Niall now appears so fragile and breakable. The only true color that shows from Niall in the current moment are the pink on his lips, which draws Zayn’s eyes for attention.

Zayn forgets about the underwear, because there are now so much more important things happening than having something to sleep in. He sneaks back over the room and crawls into bed, still examining Niall with such cautious eyes. He places a gentle hand upon Niall’s chest hair, gently trying to stroke any subconscious worries out of Niall’s chest.

That’s when Zayn realizes he has never kissed Niall sober before. For so long Zayn has convinced himself that it was always the alcohol or weed that made him do such things, but now that he has a date with Louis the next night, maybe it’s time to admit he’s in more control of his actions and emotions than he tells himself.

It’s just a kiss. Zayn just wants to know what it feels like, to kiss Niall in a completely conscious mind. He wants to feel Niall and nothing else. He doesn’t want to feel high or drunk or anything else: just Niall.

Zayn slowly lowers his head and presses the softest kiss onto his best friend. Oddly, it doesn’t feel any different than any other kiss they’ve shared. He doesn’t have an urge to pull away or feel disgusted. It’s as simple as it always been. Zayn then briefly imagines all the money he could have saved on weed and alcohol if he had only realized this sooner, but it’s better to suppress such a thought.

Surprisingly, a soft hand lands upon Zayn’s cheek, further pulling him into the kiss. A mouth opens as tongues dance around each other. This is better than any letter could have been written as.

“That’s the only way I will be allowed to be woken up, for future reference,” Niall chuckles as Zayn pulls away to breath.

“Have you been awake?” Zayn’s voice shakes, fearing the Niall knows he read the writings.

“Nope, you woke me up,” Niall sighs, “Though to be frank, I don’t think I have it in me for another round.”

“That’s not why I did that,” Zayn explains.

“Then why?” Niall questions, looking very confused, which oddly breaks Zayn's heart because Niall acts so foreign to Zayn being affectionate with him. They're best friends, at least, shouldn't Niall at least not be shocked to Zayn being sweet with him? Especially given how physical their friendship is?

“I dunno…” Zayn trails off, “Just wanted too.”

“Hey…” Niall’s hand lands upon Zayn’s left pec, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Zayn answers nervously.

“I remember you said that you don’t like to cuddle after, but… I do… and I don’t know how many more times we will be doing things such as this together… could we…?” Niall’s eyes divert from Zayn, unable to directly ask such an intimate thing from his best friend. As Niall’s cheeks brighten pink, Zayn can’t imagine turning down such an honest and simple request.

“No biggie,” Zayn ignores the pounding in his chest, “Like spooning or?”

“Uh, no, just lay down, yeah?” Niall commands.

Zayn follows with the order, settling into the bed. Zayn then feels Niall throw his bare leg over his waist. Niall’s hand reaches over Zayn to grab his far pec and buries his face in the crook of Zayn’s neck. Within a few moments, they find a relaxed placement against the other in the bed.

Zayn always believed that crossing such lines with each other would be awkward or uncomfortable, but this all feels so easy. It can’t be this easy.

“Sweet dreams buddy,” Zayn whispers as one of his hand wiggles until it finds a place on Niall’s back, pushing Niall’s warmth into him.

“Nighty-night,” Niall sighs, quickly slipping back to sleep.

A moment of silence passes as Zayn’s eyes close as well, fully ready to sleep off all that he has learned and experienced tonight.

“I love you…” Niall whimpers so lightly, not entirely conscious anymore.

It’s too much. It’s all too much. Zayn feels his legs jump and his body tense up. He wants to run out of this room, this apartment, maybe even this town. He knows he has intimacy issues, leading to bad breakups with Perrie and Gigi, and that hasn’t changed. With all of this Zayn doesn’t know if he can handle everything that Niall is and feels. Because there’s one reason why Zayn has always avoided this. Niall is so much, so good and pure. Of course he has his faults, but that doesn’t change that Niall deserves the best. Zayn doesn’t know if he can deliver on what Niall deserves. Fuck, he can’t right now.

But Niall’s dead weight upon him prevents him from doing so. Niall’s fingers unconsciously rub soothing circles onto Zayn’s chest as a soft kiss pressed itself into Zayn’s neck.

For the first time in Zayn’s life, maybe he is happy he has something holding him down.

As his heartbeat slows, he finds relief in Niall’s thigh draped over his own, not caring that their flaccid cocks are nearly rubbing into another. Within a few moments, Zayn finds himself asleep just as Niall.

--------------------------------------

Zayn wakes up to the alarm of his phone going off and a lot less Niall. When he opens his eyes, Niall is once again sleeping against the wall, Zayn still naked in bed. The alarm reminds him that he has a shift at the café within an hour, much to his dismay. Careful not to wake his friend, he rolls out of bed, finds the extra pair of his work uniform that he keeps at Niall’s, and dresses. Remembering that his friend drank much more than he did the night before, Zayn heads to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and pills.

“You shoulda slept on the couch,” Harry startles Zayn, whose eating breakfast at the table.

“Uh, thought you’d still be asleep,” Zayn sighs as he reaches up towards the cabinet for a cup, “Just, uh, fell asleep in there.”

“I mean it Zayn,” Harry states more sternly, “It isn’t right.”

“I… uh…” Zayn leaves the kitchen as fast as he can. Once he reenters Niall’s room, he sees Niall now awake, though a pillow covers up his head.

“You mind shutting the window blinds?” Niall whines.

Zayn easily complies, “Here some ibuprofen. Drink this up, you’ll thank me later.”

Niall leans up and does as he’s told, though the second he finishes the last of the water, he collapses back into bed.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” Niall whines playfully.

“You’re completely ridiculous,” Zayn laughs as he absentmindedly pets Niall’s chest. Niall absolutely glows upon Zayn’s touch, as if just Zayn’s fingertips could cure the worst hangover.

Zayn immediately retracts his hands, feeling an uneasy flutter in his stomach, “I should probably be getting to my shift.” He stands up, zips up his jacket, and picks up his backpack from the ground.

But as he exits the room, “Zayn?” Niall mumbles.

“Yeah?” Zayn doesn’t turn around from his position in the doorway.

“I just wanted to say… I hope your date with Louis tonight is everything you want it to be… You, more than anyone, deserve something good in your life…” Niall declares ever so weakly.

Zayn shouldn’t, he knows he’s shouldn’t, but as he takes his final step out the door, he turns his head slightly to look at Niall. Niall made his comment while looking towards where Zayn’s hand had just touched moments ago. He can’t even look in Zayn’s direction. Niall’s fingertips graze over his chest, as if he was trying to feel a leftover warmth from Zayn’s palm.

Zayn remembers from his brief psychology class that when a person is lying, they tend to break eye contact. While Zayn wasn’t looking at Niall, Niall’s eyes were nowhere towards his. Zayn knows that Niall’s sentiment is true, but his words are false. Niall wants Zayn to be happy, Zayn has no doubt about that, but not this way. Not in a way that also causes Niall to lose his happiness.

“Thank you, Niall,” Zayn replies cautiously as he closes the door, “I’ll see you later.”

As he leaves the apartment, he catches Harry still at the dinner table, now drinking tea and reading a book. Harry takes a long sip from his cup, never breaking eye contact with Zayn, while Zayn flees the silent confrontation as fast as he can.

--------------------------------------

Zayn can’t shake the feeling that something is off the rest of his day. He hoped that the coffee shop would be busy enough to distract him from his thoughts, but with every brief moment of silence he experiences, Niall’s writings fill his brain.

He almost wishes he could unread the words because he was perfectly fine with their arrangement only twenty-four hours ago. But to be fair, the arrangement wasn’t perfectly fine then. He only didn’t know there was something wrong. And now he does.

Niall’s words were so pure and honest. They were Niall, and Zayn cannot deny that someone thinking so highly of him makes him feel powerful in a way.

So much so that Zayn forgets about the date with Louis until his manager reminds him that his shift is over. Once looking at the clock, he remembers that he has to meet Louis at some restaurant he picked out exactly one hour from that moment. He clocks out and runs home to shower the odor of Niall off of him before meeting up with someone else.

When Zayn walks into his apartment, he hits the switch to turn on the main light. When he does so, the insides of the bulb burn bright, pop, then go dark. The flash reminds Zayn of lightning flashing.

Zayn’s eyes jump to his bed where he briefly believed he saw a figure lying down. As he eyes readjust to the darkness, the figure turns out to be a couple pillows bunched up under a blanket.

But now this time it is Zayn having a flashback, not Niall:

It was a stormy night last summer. Harry and Louis had just ended whatever it is they were doing, so Harry went home for the weekend to find comfort in his mother. Meanwhile, Louis and Liam went out for a night on the town in London, so Louis would not have to think about what was going on.

Out of fear that your and Harry’s flat could flood since you both lived on the bottom floor, you asked to come over to my place (though I knew the truth was you just didn’t want to be alone given the rare, severe weather).

The weather was a lot worse than even I expected. Rain pounded, wind howled, thunder cracked. The power went out as lightning flashed. The only thing left that we could do without power was drink…which led to…what it always leads to.

After finishing, I went to the kitchen to grab us a couple more beers. A few candles were lit around my flat, but for the most part, we were at the mercy of the sporadic lightning bolts for light.

When I turned the corner from the kitchen into my open bedroom/living room, I saw you laying on my bed looking out the window watching the storm. The scattered flashes from the raging storm lit you up like the most alluring photograph. Your fingers occasionally beat a rhythm against my bed, tuning to that of the rain on the roof. Yet it was not your fingers that I focused on. As my eyes traveled over your body, the only thing covering you up was a sheet that rested loosely along your hips, the thin fabric hiding nothing. I could see every curve and muscle of your body.

You appeared at such peace, and fully content watching the natural movie taking place through the glass patio door. And then, I just had the urge to touch you. To feel every crevice and pore on your body. I wanted to the trace your veins with my finger tips and lick every muscle. But Niall, we had not drank for a couple hours when I was having such thoughts. I was completely sober. Yet I was still thinking such dirty things about you, which I shouldn’t because… I don’t think such thoughts about any guys, let alone so descriptive, even for girls… but I guess maybe it’s time to admit that you aren’t just any guy.

I guess you could feel my eyes dissecting every part of your body, because you turn your head towards me with the… fuck, Niall, the most sinful smile on your face, like you purposefully cast the spell that was ravaging my insides. Your eyes went up and down my body as you placed one hand upon your neck. Slowly, you dragged your fingertips down your collar, your chest, before stopping where my bed sheets met your hips.

“Ready for round two?” You tempted me as your eyes jumped down to my crotch. When I looked down there myself, I could already see my cock rising just from that pure expression of lust in your eyes.

I wasn’t necessarily horny, and I wasn’t drunk, but something about you made me want more. You cautiously bit your lip as you finally grabbed the sheet and teasingly pulled it down your hips and legs until your full nudity presented itself to me, your cock growing as well in reaction to mine. Should friends be doing this to each other, Niall? Both getting turned just at the sight of each other’s bodies?

“Uh… I…” I mumbled. I literally came minutes ago, and I’m already at it again. But hell, it should be illegal to look at someone the way you looked at me then. It would cause any person to break their own morals.

“Hell yeah!” I quickly threw back my beer as a way to justify what I was about to do to you and let you do to me. I placed my empty bottle and your full bottle on top of my tellie. I ran to my bed and jumped on top of you, though I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly because I landed on top of you with a loud thud which should have been painful.

But then you started to giggle, and I started to giggle, and then we were just laughing… and grabbing… and touching… and your lips met mine and I was gone.

You proceeded to kiss my jawbone, my neck, leaving light colored hickies next to the tattoos on my chest, and then wrapped those lips around my-

Ping! Zayn’s cell phone rings and buzzes in his pocket, uncomfortably close to the boner now squished in his pants from imagining that memory. Zayn lets out an uneasy sigh as he pulls out his phone to see a message from Louis, giving him the address of where they would be meeting.

Yeah… the date. Zayn shakes his head as if that would remove the image from his mind.

He then takes a shower, all while trying to ignore his own urges to wank off to what he just imagined, gets dressed, shaves, and then head to the pizzeria that Louis had suggested to him.

---------------------------------------------------

Zayn trots into the restaurant a few minutes late, though Louis does not seem to mind. Louis is already sitting a table, playing a game on his phone while he waits for his date. He really tidied up for this: Louis trimmed his beard and sleeked his hair back, assumingly to impress Zayn. Zayn cannot deny his friend looks hot.

“Z!” Louis stands at attentions of his date, “I was beginning to think you left me for dead here!”

“Sorry, crazy day at work,” Zayn lies as he takes his seat.

“What happened at work?” Louis asks.

“Uh… well… nothing really, just people being people,” Zayn sighs as he opens a menu.

But things don’t mesh between Louis and Zayn as they usually do. Normally they laugh and joke and play off of each other’s words. But every one of Louis’s attempts is deflected with a nearly-rude short reply from Zayn. Zayn can see the frustration mounting on his date’s face, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He has enough problems as it is, he can’t be go fixing problems outside of his head with the one’s in his head running amok.

And now Louis is just staring at Zayn, waiting for any kind of conversation to make this date actually enjoyable. Zayn can’t focus on this right now. He can’t focus on anything but Niall’s words streaming through his head. Then, one question pops into his mind. One question he has been asking himself since he read the letters. And then it slips out of his lips.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“Whoa! What the hell? his is just a first date, and you’re thinking about soulmates?!” Louis yells in defense, “I just want a good time and you’re thinking-“

“No, I don’t think you’re my soulmate, you idiot,” Zayn answers bluntly, “I just meant in the concept.”

“You never seemed like someone who would think in such a way,” Louis mumbled.

“No, it’s just something Niall… said…” Zayn whimpers.

“Oh, did he finally tell you how he feels?” Louis says so casually. A small urge to punch Louis in the mouth pops in Zayn’s head. Like Louis knew before Zayn? Like Niall’s feelings didn’t matter?

“What?” Zayn coughs.

“Niall has feelings for you,” Louis states plainly, “It’s pretty obvious.”

“How? How do you know?” Zayn questions.

“Well uh… it’s how I knew I could make a move on you,” Louis reveals, “I caught you two… uh, a few times?”

Zayn drops his fork at the revelation. He never expected to have a talk about Niall on any date he would go on, “When?”

“Well…” Louis rightly laughs, “When one night I was staying over at Harold’s, but we had some stupid fight so I slept out on the couch. In the middle of the night I awoke to you walking into the kitchen for some water wearing… beautifully nothing, then sneaking back into Niall’s room. I had assumed you had went home when me and Harry went back to his bedroom earlier in the evening, but I guess I was wrong. Don’t worry I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t think too much of it until me and Harry broke up, when I then purposefully caught you and Niall hooking up in a random bathroom, confirming any suspicions that I had.”

Zayn holds back That doesn’t mean he has feelings for me. It's just a thing between mates. But he can't any longer. It was a forced delusion on his part. He knows Niall. It's so obvious now. The way his cheeks flushed whenever Zayn complimented his outfit. The way Niall had his order memorized from his favorite falafel place when Zayn was too smashed to order. The way Niall would drop everything just to suck his-

“Zayn?” Louis declared, “Do you know Niall at all?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn growled, "I'm not going to deny it's a thing, but it wasn't always."

“What it means is… if Niall’s been fooling around with you for years now, it’s because he has feelings for you, or he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. Just look at his history. He’s had ample opportunities to hook up with several people who woulda fallen to their knees for him, but he hasn’t. In fact, I'm super sure I've seen Niall turn other people down at parties just so he could focus his attention on you. He only fools around with people he likes. And now, you two have been doing this thing for over a year, a thing he wouldn’t do with just anyone. Come on, Zayn. Knowing all that you know about Niall, what else does it add up too? He’s not you: He doesn’t separate this stuff.”

“I guess… maybe…” Zayn agrees, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“The soulmates one?” Louis inquires, to which Zayn nods.

“No. Nobody has control over my destiny but me, nor is there nobody waiting for me. If we are well together, then we’ll stay together. If we don’t work well together, we will break up. Harry is a lot like Niall. He wanted to believe that we were destined to find each other, when I just thought we happened to be at the right place at the right time, and then we weren’t,” Louis answers honestly, "What about you?"

“I don’t know if I believe in the concept… but I kinda like the idea of being with someone who has a chance to believe that we could be. Maybe I want someone to change my mind…” Zayn answers.

“Then…” Louis sighs, “It sounds like you are on a date with the wrong person.”

And like that, all the magic and chemistry between the two was gone. It was previously hot and passionate, but now analyzing both of their personalities, romantically they don’t make sense.

“We’re still like bros, right?” Louis chuckles, "Because I do really enjoy hanging out with you."

“Yeah of course, you twat!” Zayn laughs right back, “No hard feelings. We tried, yeah?”

“We tried,” Louis winked, “But just to clarify, you’re now paying for your half of the check.”

“You wanker,” Zayn rolls his eyes, but agreeing with the notion.

 ---------------------------------------------------

Zayn goes on a long walk after leaving the restaurant. Wandering through Exeter, he doesn’t have to worry much about his safety. He needs to clear his mind. He can’t go home because as he tried that before: Niall has tainted everything.

Louis and Niall are so different. Louis goes for what he wants. He didn’t care what Zayn wanted in regards to an identity. Zayn remembers bits and pieces of the night Niall caught them kissing. Louis had been flirty, which isn’t surprising since he’s a flirt with everyone. It’s his nature, but Zayn couldn’t deny he liked the attention. Then Louis told him he had a secret and pulled him to the upstairs hallway. Zayn turns his ear for Louis to whisper into, but Louis grabbed his face and planted one on him. He nearly freaked out, but the alcohol running through his blood and the memories of Niall kissing him kept him at ease. Then it was happening and Zayn didn’t mind if it kept going. Towards the end for the end of the night, Louis told Zayn they were going on a date, and realizing how natural it felt kissing Louis, maybe that was alright. Maybe he’s alright liking boys as well as girls.

But Niall… Niall is so considerate and understanding. He respected Zayn’s boundaries and never forced labels upon them. He carefully watched the lines Zayn created to always keep him at ease. And that’s why Zayn liked Niall: because Niall respected Zayn’s identity and definition. Even if they regularly hooked up, Niall never told him that he wasn’t really straight. He let Zayn be who he wanted to be.

The situation could just be fun. Most of the girls Zayn fooled around with wanted more and Zayn didn’t always have that desire. Well, after reading those letters, maybe Niall actually does too… He is too damn accommodating, putting Zayn’s own desires above his own. If Niall had just… Zayn doesn’t know how he would have reacted if Niall had pulled the same stunt, but Zayn can’t imagine the regret Niall now feels for never making the move when Louis got it on his first try.

When Zayn pulls himself out of his thoughts, he is now in front of Harry and Niall's apartment building. His feet must have led him there subconsciously. He knows he must talk to Niall, but he isn't sure what he even wants to say. They cannot continue on in the status quo. If they did continue with their spontaneous hook-ups, then Zayn would be purposefully using Niall unlike the accidental way he has been. Zayn takes a deep breath as he pushes open the lobby door.

As Zayn is about to knock on their door, he can hear a muffled conversation on the other side:

“Will you quit moping and go crash that date already!” Harry whines.

“I’m not moping,” Niall says bluntly, “Besides Zayn is straight and-“

“Will you quit saying that! He’s on a date with Louis. That is like the least straight thing a guy can do,” Harry corrects Niall, “There’s a difference between accepting someone’s chosen identity and lying to oneself, and you Niall are lying to yourself.”

“Maybe it’s just easier to say he’s straight… since that way I don’t have to think how… he doesn’t want me…” Niall mumbles.

“I understand that,” Harry agrees, “But you gotta do something, or you’re going to regret it.”

“Oh like I won’t regret fucking up our friendship by doing that!” Niall declares, “And Louis is my friend… I don’t want to ruin their date for the both of them.”

“Fuck Louis!” Harry jeers.

“I think you gotta some unresolved anger there, friend,” Niall points out.

“Even so. With what you and Zayn two have been doing, it’s completely logical that you would fall for him. I’m sure he would understand that,” Harry tries to convince him.

“Harry…” Niall whimpers.

“Or how about this? You and me go to the same diner together and pretend to be on a date! That will get him all riled up and jealous,” Harry suggests.

“For him to get jealous, he would have to have feelings for me,” Niall points out.

“Please, I hate seeing you like this. You have to do something,” Harry commands.

“Harry, if you want me to paint your nails, you’ll shut up about this, kay?” Niall demands.

Harry sighs dramatically, “Fine, sorry for caring about your wellbeing.”

Zayn takes a deep breath, giving himself a few moments to collect his thoughts and so the two wouldn’t think he overheard their conversation.

His fist knocks on the door.

“Whoooooooooo is it?!” Harry sings from inside.

“It’s me,” Zayn answers.

Zayn then hears a brief hushed conversation, both Niall and Harry lowering their voice so he couldn’t understand what they would say.

After a few seconds, “Cooooommeeee iiiiinnnnnnnnnnnn. Door’s unlocked!”

Niall and Harry are way too trusting in the world to always leave their apartment door unlocked, but maybe that’s why Zayn keeps them around, to counter his cynicalness. He steps into their living room to Harry sitting upon the couch, his feet sitting upon a pedestal, as Niall sits on the ground painting Harry’s toenails.

“What’s going on here?” Zayn questions upon the scene.

“Well I wanted to have a girls’ night, but Niall wanted to watch golf tournament going on in the States, so we compromised on I’d watch such a boring sport with him in agreement that he does my nails and skin routine,” Harry explained simplistically.

“It’s not boring,” Niall mumbles, focusing upon his task at hand.

When Zayn sets his gaze upon Niall, he notices Niall doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. On further examination, Niall looks so exhausted. He has dark rings around his eyes and the color appears drained from his face. But this isn’t a new look. He’s had this same demeanor for the past couple weeks. Zayn attributed the stress to school, but now that he believes he knows what’s going on, he can trace it back to the night Niall saw…

“You’re here early. I didn’t expect to see you till tomorrow morning,” Harry states with a cheeky grin, “How was the date? Sucked, didn’t it?”

“It wasn’t… a date,” Zayn answers carefully, “Niall?”

Niall’s eyes jolt open upon his name, but he doesn’t look in Zayn’s direction, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind if we talk?” Zayn hints at.

“Go ahead,” Niall commands weakly.

“Uh… in private?” Zayn clarifies.

Niall takes a deep breath as he closes the bottle of nail polish. Harry sends Niall the most sympathetic look in history, trying to reassure him that everything is going to be alright. But Zayn doesn’t know that. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say.

Niall steps in front of Zayn as they walk to Niall’s room, but Niall looks as if Zayn is an executioner and he’s leading Niall to the gallows. What’s Niall so afraid of?

But as they step closer to the room, Zayn remembers the events from the night before… or that he thinks he remembers? He was drunk last night. What if he dreamed everything? What if Niall didn’t write him any letters? What if Zayn is about to make the biggest ass of himself in history? Sure, he just heard their conversation from the hallway, but this fear engulfs him, overriding every logic sense in his brain.

“Hey Niall?” Zayn questions as they step into the room, “The walk here was kinda long. Do you mind getting me a glass of water real quick?”

“Sure?” Niall asks a little confused.

The second Niall returns to the hallway, Zayn dives across the room, his fingertips barely missing the handle of the drawer. He scurries until he sits in front of the dresser, yanking open the cabinet.

There they are: the letters. But Zayn has to make sure those three words are there. Those three words that matter so much. He tosses most of the letters over his shoulder, leaving the last letter in his hands. He rips open the letter, leaving little thought to hiding whatever proof he has of his conquest. He pulls out the letter, skims it as fast as I can.

Then he reads: “now I know I love you.”

Thank god Zayn thinks to himself.

“Here is your wa-AT ARE YOU DOING?!” Niall screeches from the doorway.

Zayn shoots up and turns around, the open letter still present in his hand. Terror is imprinted upon Niall’s face, his mouth agape. They stare at each other for what feels minutes on end, though it couldn’t have been more than a matter of seconds.

Then Splash! The cup water slides out of Niall’s hand, spilling all over the ground. Luckily the softness of the carpet prevents it from shattering.

“Niall!” Zayn hollers as he jumps into action. He steps into Niall’s bathroom, grabs a towel, then returns to the room. Now on his knees in front of Niall, Zayn picks up the glass and presses the towel into the carpet.

"Is everything alright back there?" Harry calls from the living room.

“Yes, Niall is just being dramatic,” Zayn accuses, but when he looks up at Niall from his place on the ground, he can see Niall’s hands trembling, his face frozen in fear. Then red. Niall’s eyes burn a dark red as tears begin gathering. All anger leaves Zayn as he lets go out of the towel and stands up.

“Why… why were you reading that?” Niall whimpers, “You weren’t… you weren’t ever supposed to read that…”

“It wasn’t my first time if it makes you feel any better,” Zayn tries to alleviate Niall’s fears, though he notices it doesn’t affect anything, “I don’t mean like I read it often, I mean. I read them for the first time last night.”

“Then I know why you are here,” Niall’s voice shudders, the tears beginning to overflow.

“You do?” Zayn asks, honestly wanting an answer since he doesn’t even know the answer to that statement.

“That you had a really good date with Louis… and you want to make sure that we are… friends… just friends,” a tear streams down Niall’s left cheek.

Instinctively, Zayn raises his right hand and places it upon Niall’s cheek, wiping away the lone tear with his thumb. Niall’s face then sinks into Zayn’s palm, as if that’s Niall’s safe place. Niall’s cheek squishes against Zayn’s hand, to which Zayn cannot help but smile at how precious Niall is.

“The date kinda sucked actually,” Zayn admits easily. Niall perks up, finally looking Zayn in the eyes for the first time tonight.

“So guys aren’t for you, huh?” Niall questions.

“I don’t think it’s about guys or girls… I just don’t think it was Louis,” Zayn answers, “Why didn’t you fight for me, Niall?”

“Why didn’t I fight for you?!” Niall repeats sadly, “You kept dating girls, telling me you were straight, then the second Louis gets emotional with you, you just jump in?! Why weren’t you fighting for me?”

Zayn nearly jumps back at Niall’s directness. But Niall’s right, Zayn kept telling Niall no in the subtle ways he did, and then Louis just went for it and Zayn followed. Zayn guesses Niall has a little right to be upset.

So Zayn steps back and opens up Niall’s closet. He throws a plaid shirt upon Niall’s bed while he continues to dig, “Do you by chance have that suede jacket you look good in?”

“Uh, I think it’s in the back up my closet,” Niall replies, to which Zayn grabs it and then throws it on the bed as well.

“Put those on,” Zayn commands as he steps out of the room.

“Why? Where are we going?” Niall stutters.

“Out,” Zayn finishes as he shuts the door, to give Niall some privacy to change.

“So what’s all the commotion going on in there?” Harry asks as Zayn stands in the front room waiting for Niall, “You better not be hurting my precious Nialler.”

“Me? Never,” Zayn declares.

Niall then steps into the room, wearing the red plaid shirt with the top buttons open, some of his chest hair sticking out, and the brown suede jacket. His cheeks were still flushed red from his previous cry, but he look stylish none the less. One could even say beautiful.

“Damn Nialler! You know how to tidy up!” Harry leans up in praise of his friend, “If you go out looking like that, you’re definitely gonna get laid.”

“Zayn picked it out so,” Niall mumbles, his cheeks blushing pink from attention this time.

“Are we all going out? Hold on, just give me five minutes!” Harry jumps to his feet.

“You taking five minutes to get ready? That’s the biggest lie I ever heard,” Niall chuckles.

“Uh, this is more of a me and Niall kinda thing,” Zayn explained weakly, taking a step closer to his sharply dressed friend.

“What are you two doing then?” Harry questions skeptically.

“Going on a date,” Zayn confirms. Niall spins his head around so fast, Zayn’s surprised the thing didn’t fly off.

“Oh,” Harry falls back into the couch with the most devilish smile, like his eyes are saying I fucking knew it, “Well I don’t want to hold you two up. Make sure to have my roommate home before midnight, Zayn. I’ll be sure to make myself scarce by then.”

“Before midnight?” Niall laughs, “You’re not my mother.”

“Watch that mouth or I’ll call her,” Harry threatens, to which Niall immediately backs down.

“You ready to go?” Zayn grows impatient.

“Yeah sure,” Niall agrees, both of them exiting the flat to escape Harry’s interrogation as quickly as possible.

As they make way down the hallway, it feels like any other dinner night the two would go on, making small talk to fill the silence between them. But Zayn remembers this isn’t any other dinner. It’s a date.

Before they step outside, Zayn pulls Niall against the wall, presses his body into his, and places a kiss onto Niall’s cheek, “Harry was right. You look breathtaking tonight.”

“What? Me?” Niall stutters, trying to hide his grin but to failing to do so, “Can’t even compare to you.”

“Shut up and take the compliment,” Zayn giggles as he presses another kiss.

“A strong beautiful man bossing me around? You’re making me weak in the knees,” Niall chuckles, “We might have to skip dinner.”

“You skip dinner?” Zayn retorts, “Never.”

---------------------------------------------------

Zayn takes Niall to a jazz bar on the main road through town. While not terribly big, the room has a dance floor in the center with tables against the surrounding walls. The lights are turned down dim, attempting to create some ambiance.

But as Zayn watches Niall, Niall appears very uneasy. His knee gyrates in anxiety, he may even occasionally bite his nails, before noticing that he is doing so and lowers his hand. Only to shortly return to the habit moments after stopping.

This isn’t Niall and Zayn at all. Normally it’s fun, easy, and without a thought. Did Zayn fuck things up? Did he take things a step to far?

As fear now spreads through Zayn, his mouth opens, with the only thing that has been running through his head all day. A question that did not go well the last time we asked it.

“So, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Niall stops moving, his eyes widen, he looks up at Zayn, and then-

Niall’s laughing. He laughs so hard he pounds his fist against the table trying to calm himself down. The rest of the restaurant looks towards the direction of the commotion. But upon seeing Niall laugh genuinely for the first time in weeks, Zayn finds himself laughing to. He doesn’t know what’s so funny exactly, but Niall is contagious, in all forms of the word.

Finally, as he wipes a tear from laughter off his cheek, “Oh my god! You read every letter?”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn admits, “I know I shouldn’t have. It was a totally breach of privacy, but once I read that first letter in total praise of me, I just couldn’t stop.”

“This is definitely the most embarrassing first date I have ever been on,” Niall chuckles.

“Hey, you didn’t scare me away, even if you are a creep that watches guys sleep,” Zayn winks.

“That was like one time! Okay, a couple,” Niall laughs again, “I guess I should apologize too.”

“What do you have to apologize for?” Zayn asks.

“I should have told you what I was feeling sooner… I wasn’t exactly sure all of it until I saw you and Louis… but I knew to some extent… I just really liked what we were doing together and was scared that if I said anything, it’d all be over,” Niall explains.

“It’s alright. I don’t know what I would have done in your position either given that I kept trying to confine my sexuality to one box… I don’t know how I would have reacted if you would have told me,” Zayn agrees, “How about from now on, we just always tell each other what we are feeling. No secrets?”

“I can do that,” Niall nods.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?” A waitress asks, interrupting the couple.

“Uh, just water for me. Get him whatever he wants though,” Zayn orders to her.

“You aren’t drinking tonight?” Niall questions.

“I kinda wanted to try this sober for once,” Zayn admits, “If that’s alright with you?”

“I’d like that,” Niall smiles, “I’ll have coke, Thank you.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Zayn reminds his date as the waitress disappears.

“Hm?” Niall hums.

“Soulmates?” Zayn repeats.

“Uh… I don’t know…” Niall attempts to clarify, “I like the idea of free will; it’s kind of scary that I may not have a real choice in the matter with my life, that everything has always been destined for me to lead to someone… but at the same time, it’s comforting to think that even if I fail uni, get fired from my job, lose everything… that person is still going to love me. Or better yet, every roadblock on that street called life led me to who loves me more than anyone… I know that sounds silly…”

“No, it’s not silly at all,” Zayn refutes, “Actually, when you explain it like that, it sounds nice. Like, it isn’t that I don’t have real choice in my life, it’s just that all these choices I choose to make are leading to where I’m supposed to be anyways.”

“Exactly,” Niall gleans to which Zayn cannot help but grin back at. When Zayn looks down, he sees his hand is now extended across the table, his thumb lightly stroking Niall’s hand soothingly, something he did without ever realize he did it. Niall then intertwines their fingers, also rubbing Zayn’s hand with his thumb as well. It’s calming, for both of them, all of their feelings don’t need to said through words.

Niall then raises Zayn’s fist up to his lips and presses a soft kiss onto the knuckles. Zayn cannot believe that he blushes at the gesture. “As much as I love holding your hand, I need mine to look at the menu,” Niall chuckles with a release of his grip.

Zayn nor Niall do not know how what took place cleared the air between them, but from that moment on, the date sails smoothly as any other date the two has been on. They talk about their day, joke about school and their part-time jobs. It feels as if it is just like any other hangout they have gone on together, but it’s different. It’s new and oddly exciting.

As they eat, Zayn notices that Niall is moving again. This time not in anxiety, but with rhythm. Zayn looks around the room to see a three-person band with a lone singer on the elevated stage. A few couple are on the dance floor, swaying together with the music.

Niall continues to absentmindedly rocking to the beat, to the point that Zayn cannot help but ask: “Do you… like to dance?”

Niall immediately stops his motion, but answers honestly, “Uh, yeah, actually I love to when I’m in the right mood.”

“But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance,” Zayn states.

“Well… uh… You don’t like to,” Niall explains, “Whenever we go out, you always try to steer us to bars and away from clubs. And when we do go to clubs, you tend to sit in the corner of the room to drink so I join you over there.”

“But if I don’t like to dance doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. If you’d prefer to be out on the dance floor-” Zayn argues.

“I, honestly, just prefer being with you,” Niall reveals.

While Zayn is touched by the remark, some guilt also swells in his gut. He doesn’t like the idea of Niall missing out on opportunities for him. And he reminds himself that if he was on a date with a girl and she wanted to dance, he would have conceded.

“Would you come dance with me?” Zayn requests.

“You don’t need to do that,” Niall awkwardly laughs, though from the gleam on his face Zayn knows he wants to.

“I do, come on, please,” Zayn stands up and extends his hand out.

“Gonna make me look like a complete twat if I turn you down now,” Niall happily sighs as he sets down his silverware.

Zayn leads them both to the middle of the floor. He isn’t quite sure how to dance, especially to the slow rhythm of the current jazz song. He shuffles side to side, looking down at his feet to make sure to move in line with them. He has no idea what he’s doing out here. Making a complete ass of himself is the proper term for his movements. He’s so sure Niall would not want to be seen dancing with a walking twig like himself. But as he raises his head up to ask Niall if he’d rather sit down, Zayn sees something he doesn’t expect to.

Niall can dance. He can move his feet in a thought out pattern. He can swing his hips perfectly to the rhythm. His arms do not flail about, but move exactly how they should to such a dance.

“Holy shit Niall,” Zayn swears.

“Huh?” Niall quits moving.

“Don’t stop!” Zayn commands as he sets his hands on Niall’s hips, pushing and pulling him to repeat his previous movements, “I just didn’t know…”

“There’s a lot you may not know about me,” Niall winks.

As they continue to dance, Niall looks so in the zone. Zayn tries to mimic Niall’s moves but fails horribly, which causes Niall to laugh over and over again at his embarrassing attempts. Even though Zayn knows Niall is laughing at him, not with him, Zayn now needs that laugh more than anything. Like music to his ears, Zayn would keep making a fool of himself all night if it meant that genuine Niall laugh would flow throughout the room.

As the next song drifts into a slower tune, and Zayn continues to watch Niall in amazement, he feels as if he’s never going to forget the words from the song that seem to be written for Niall and him:

I always thought I might be bad

Now I know that it’s true cuz,

You are so good

And I’m nothing like you.

Realizing that he could not possibly keep up with Niall’s speed for the rest of the night, Zayn firmly grabs onto Niall’s hips and pulls him against his body. Sensing what Zayn was wanting to do, Niall wraps arms over Zayn’s shoulder and his hand meets behind Zayn’s neck. They slow dance to the rhythm, when one sways, the other moves naturally in the same direction.

Niall tucks his head under Zayn’s chin, his face pressed against Zayn’s neck. Zayn feels Niall’s grin pressuring his skin, and it burns. Burns in the best way possible. Burn in the way that Zayn would never forget. It maybe the best feeling he has ever felt in his life. He’s almost mad at himself that they had not done this sooner, but it all led here. And now it’s happening.

They continue to dance way past the point of their food going cold.

---------------------------------------------------

Zayn wakes up to Niall’s face pressed against his bare chest, small snores spilling out of his lips. Zayn smiles at the image in front of him. This is much better than waking up to Niall curled against the wall as the morning before, meaning that Niall purposefully rolled off of Zayn then. This confirms Zayn’s new theory that Niall is cuddly as hell, which is something he is perfectly alright with and makes complete sense knowing Niall’s personality.

After a few moments, Niall feels Zayn’s body mildly stretching along an increased heart rate from below the muscles Niall lies on. Niall grins so wide up at Zayn, as if his teeth are screaming I finally got you, something that makes Zayn’s heart melt.

“Morning dude,” Niall simply starts out his day with.

“Niall,” Zayn states sternly, “I had my tongue buried in your asshole last night. Don’t call me dude anymore, it’s kinda weird.”