Archive of Our Own

Day one

“Zayn. Zayn, love.”

“Piss off.”

“Zayn Malik, don’t you tell your mother to piss off!”

“It’s four am!” Zayn whines, burrowing his face into the pillow. “Nothing is worth getting up at this time for!”

“You’ve made that clear in the past, love.”

“Mum, let me sleep!”

“Well then, you can be the one to explain to Danny and Ant why you missed your flight,” his mother huffs, trying and failing once again to yank the duvet off him. “Zayn. Now!”

“This holiday was a stupid idea,” Zayn grumbles as he rubs at his eyes. “I don’t understand why we had to book a flight for half seven in the morning.”

“Because I’m paying half, that’s why,” Trisha snaps, throwing Zayn’s towel at him. “Now shower and get dressed. I’ll make you some toast.”

“Thanks, Mum,” he mumbles, reluctantly sliding out from under the duvet and clicking his back. “Be down in ten.”

Twenty minutes later he finds himself in a taxi with his two best friends (who won’t stop singing despite the fact that it’s fuckface o’clock in the morning) and he’s already one hundred percent done with the idea of a lads’ holiday.

“Ayia, Ayia, Ayia fookin’ Napa!” Danny screeches right in Zayn’s ear, making him jump. “Oh, cheer the fuck up, Malik, we’ve got ten days in sexy sunny paradise to look forward to.”

“Think of all the girls in bikinis,” Ant says gleefully on his other side. “How easy they’ll all be after six shots of tequila.”

“You’re both disgusting,” Zayn hisses.

“Ah, yes, I always forget your little penchant for cock,” Ant says, pulling him into a headlock. “We’ll go gay clubbing at least one of the nights if that’s what you want, bebz.”

“I’ve never snogged a guy before. Might be a nice little holiday experiment,” Danny puts in, nudging Zayn playfully in the ribs.

“Please. Stop talking,” Zayn groans, already wondering why he ever thought this was a good idea. Ten days he has of this. He’s already had enough after half an hour.

They arrive at Manchester airport and check themselves in before Danny insists they have their first pint to soften Zayn’s first flight nerves. They settle for a pokey Wetherspoons and Zayn orders a stiff drink and a plate of eggs on toast.

They’re just paying for their orders when they hear a lot of shouting and a large group of people are suddenly hurrying through towards their gate. A few seconds later a string of paps are seen following them, the shouting getting louder as they snap photo after photo of, to what Zayn can see, just four teenage boys walking.

“Who’s that?” Danny asks, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of their faces.

“Looks like that boyband,” Ant says. “What are they called, First Direction?”

“One Direction,” the bartender corrects, sidling over to them. “Got teenage girls swooning left, right and centre. My little girl has a big thing for the one called Liam.”

“Which one’s he?”

“The taller one, not the one with the curls but with the almost Mohawk. Think he’s wearing a snapback now, mind.”

Zayn’s eyes follow the group, his eyes settling on the one he assumes is Liam. He’s tall and broad, a red snapback resting on his head and a black vest leaving very little to the imagination covering his lean body. He definitely doesn’t lick his lips.

“Yeah, we’ve got pictures of him covering the house. Not sure about their music, though; the kind to get stuck in your head for hours so you find yourself humming it all the bleedin’ time,” the bartender continues. “Can’t tell my girl they passed through here, she’ll kill me for not doing anything about it.”

Danny and Ant snort but Zayn’s still transfixed, his eyes still trained on the way Liam’s arm muscles seem to ripple as he pulls his suitcase along behind him, laughing at something the blonde boy next to him has said. His face almost makes Zayn’s breath hitch. Almost.

The thing is, One Direction are one of those bands that everybody’s heard of (their faces are on practically every product in every shop, Zayn swears) but Zayn’s never properly looked at them. They always look so young and innocent on their merchandise but right now… well, Liam’s look can only be described as sinful.

“…right, Zayn?”

“Huh?” Zayn says, snapping out of his reverie as Danny flicks him hard on the temple. “Ow, fuck! What was that for?”

“You were ignoring us,” Danny tells him. “Anyway, we were just saying about this is your first time flying anywhere.”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” Zayn says, shaking himself back into the present.

“Nervous?” the bartender asks.

“I don’t… not really,” he shrugs. “Should I be?”

“Nah, you’ll be fine, lad,” the bartender smirks. “Just be wary of the loop de loop the plane does just after it takes off. Some first timers can’t hack that.”

Danny and Ant snort loudly and Zayn narrows his eyes. “They do not do a loop de loop.”

“They do, we just didn’t want to make you nervous,” Ant says solemnly. Zayn bats him away, pretending to scoff but now he’s terrified. A loop de loop? He’s definitely going to vomit.

He doesn’t have much time to think about it because after they’ve finished their breakfast they’re being led towards the gate and onto the plane. The plane is pretty empty and they end up being directed to the first aisle. Zayn yawns as he flops down into his seat on the aisle (he flat out refuses to sit at the window), buckling himself in and ignoring Danny babbling in his ear about what they’re going to do when they arrive.

“We’re going out tonight, right? Zayn?”

“Whatever, as long as I can nap first. Just shut up,” Zayn sighs, letting his eyes drop closed.

The pilot starts making announcements and his stomach lurches as the plane starts moving forward towards its runway.

“Chill, bro,” Danny murmurs as Zayn tenses next to him. “You know we were kidding about the loop de loop.”

“Absolute wanker,” Zayn snaps, fingers gripping the arm rests tightly. “This is horrible, how do people do this on a regular basis?! Remind me to get a job that keeps me firmly on the ground.”

“Yeah, yeah, Malik, just sleep it off, yeah?”

Zayn flips him the finger and lets his eyes drop closed, keeping his hands gripping the arm rests to the point where his knuckles go white.

The plane finally gets up into the air and despite the fact that his stomach is still in knots, he starts to drift off to sleep as the gentle hum of the plane’s engine becomes a calming background noise. Danny starts snoring on his shoulder in what feels like no time at all and Ant has his headphones in so Zayn settles down, letting his grip on the arm rests loosen and his legs stick out.

The next thing he knows, he’s being woken up by a swift kick to his ankle. He jerks and his eyes fall open, blinking a few times as he tries to orientate himself.

“Oh, bollocks, I’m so sorry,” a voice to his right says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Zayn blinks his eyes open and he’s met with the apologetic smile of the Liam boy he’d been staring at earlier from the pub. He sits up hurriedly, scrubbing a hand over his face as he tries to formulate words.

“No, no, it’s, like, it’s fine, bro, yeah,” he stammers, smiling through his blush. “Was just dozing anyway.”

“I’m still sorry,” Liam says, shrugging sheepishly. “Anyway, I… the loo…” he says, nudging his head in that direction. Zayn nods quickly, waiting for Liam to disappear before shaking his head to wake him up properly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to experience some turbulence so could you return to your seats immediately and fasten your seatbelts, thank you!”

Zayn looks over to Danny and Ant with a look of terror but they’re both sleeping soundly. He knows they’ll never let him hear the end of it if he wakes them up so he resigns himself to just grip the arm rests again, his stomach churning like hell.

“Excuse me, sir, I know you’re in first class but would you mind just sitting here until the turbulence has subsided?” a member of the flight crew rather timidly asks a returning Liam, gesturing to the empty aisle seat on the opposite side to Zayn. Liam nods, sliding into the empty seat before his eyes train over to Zayn.

“Are you okay, man?”

Zayn nods, cracking one eye open to look at Liam who’s looking over at his worriedly. “Yeah, I, yeah. I, um, this is my first ever flight, so, like, I’m kinda nervous.” He huffs out an embarrassed laugh but Liam just grins.

“I was the same, don’t worry. One of my mates, his name’s Louis, he told me that plane’s do loop de loops after they take off and I was petrified! ”

“These two told me the exact same thing,” Zayn snorts, gesturing over to his sleeping friends. “Top pals, we have.”

Liam’s grin doesn’t falter. “My name’s Liam. What’s yours, new flying buddy?”

“Zayn,” Zayn replies, taking Liam’s outstretched hand with a silent prayer that his own hand isn’t too sweaty. “So you were in first class then?”

Liam goes red. “Um, yeah. Sorry.”

Zayn snorts again. “Mate, if I could afford first class, I’d be there too. You don’t need to apologise.”

Liam gives him a small, almost grateful smile. “So you’re going on a lad’s holiday, then?”

“Yeah, something like that. Just, like, a goodbye kind of thing. We all worked together during our gap years and now we’re all off to different unis, so…” He trails off, blushing when he realises he’s given Liam from One Direction half his sodding life story when he asked him a yes or no question.

“That’s really cool! That’s kind of what we’re doing, kind of,” Liam says brightly, seemingly oblivious to Zayn’s embarrassment.

“What, you and your bandmates?” he says without thinking.

Liam opens his mouth and then closes it again, flushing a deep magenta. “Uhh, y-yeah, yeah.”

Zayn feels like a complete twat. “Shit, Liam, I’m sorry. Just, like, I know who you are. Well, I know of you, don’t ask me to name any of your songs though because I probably couldn’t.”

Liam lets out a small, almost surprised laugh at that. “Okay, wow, well, thank you for admitting it.”

“Wait, what? Why wouldn’t I?” Zayn asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised at how many people think they can get away with not knowing who we are in a bid to try and get something from us,” Liam shrugs. He attempts a high-pitched voice. “Ooh, noooo, I had noooo idea you were that guy from that band! What’s your name again? The Wanted, was it?”

Zayn laughs loudly, covering his mouth with his hand when he remembers just how many people are sleeping around him. “Oh wow.”

Liam’s cheeks are pink again but he’s laughing too. “Yeah, it’s quite embarrassing. Unlucky for them I’m under contract not to sleep with anyone unapproved by my security team first. Not that I, um, well, never mind.”

“Jesus,” Zayn says, eyes wide.

“It comes with pros and cons, this life,” Liam shrugs again. “Wouldn’t change it though.” He shakes his head before turning to Zayn again. “So you’re off to uni? What are you going to study?”

“Biochemistry,” Zayn says. “It’s not, like, my favourite subject but careers and all that.”

“Sounds interesting though,” Liam says earnestly. “I was never clever enough for uni. If I wasn’t doing this I’d probably be training to be a fireman or something like that.”

“See, I could never do that,” Zayn grins. “All those early morning starts. I could barely make it out of bed for this flight.”

“It is awfully early,” Liam laughs. “Sadly it’s something I’ve had to grow accustomed to. A lot of them to catch a lot of planes.”

“Sounds like hell,” Zayn pulls a face. “Makes me almost glad I didn’t go on the X Factor in the end.”

“You applied to be on the X Factor?”

“Er, yeah, actually. Same year as you guys won,” he mumbles, his cheeks going pink again.

“We didn’t win, we came third,” Liam corrects, though it’s not cruelly done at all. “Imagine though, I could have met you there, like, at boot camp or something. How come you never went through with it?”

“My mum couldn’t get me out of bed,” he says, ducking his head when Liam laughs. “What? I really like sleeping!”

“It’s just funny,” Liam giggles. “Bet you’ve got a cracking voice though.”

“And what makes you say that?” Zayn asks.

“Well, someone with a face like yours can only have many other good qualities, am I right?”

Zayn stares for a second. “Liam from One Direction, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he shrugs but Zayn can see the tips of his ears go pink. “Is that not… are you not…?”

“It’s not that, believe me, because I am,” Zayn says quietly. “But, like, are you?”

“Not to the rest of the world,” Liam mumbles back. His eyes go wide. “Shit, I…”

“Liam, I’m not going to out you,” Zayn says softly. “Nobody should come out until they’re ready, I know that.”

Liam smiles. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Zayn smiles back. “Now you should go back to flirting with me so I can flirt back.”

Liam smiles so wide his eyes crinkle. “Like, obviously we just met and stuff but if, you know, you wanted some holiday fun, if you get where I’m coming from; well, I’m always an option.”

“Oh fuck,” Zayn whispers, half to Liam and half to himself. “You’re serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Liam says, still looking worried that he’s crossed a line. “Only if you want to though, like, obviously I’m not going to try and seduce you if it’s a lost cause because then I’d look like an idiot but, yeah, I do fancy you a little bit.”

“Only a little bit,” Zayn says as teasingly as he can, his heart thumping against his ribcage. “Top seduction, that.”

Liam grins despite the fact his face is the same colour as his snapback. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “So, um, are you staying in Napa or are you going somewhere else?”

“No, no, in Napa,” Zayn says. “We’ve got some, like, hotel apartment thingy where we’ve got like two bedrooms and a bathroom and a kitchenette. It was dirt cheap so probably not close to where you’re staying at all.”

“I have no idea where we’re staying,” Liam admits. “Usually we don’t even get told so we can’t tweet about it and let the fans know where we are. But, like, can I have your number?” He blanches. “Shit, is that too forward?”

“Liam,” Zayn says with an eye roll. “You just asked if I’d want to sleep with you and now you think asking for my number is too forward?”

“I don’t do this very often, can you tell?” Liam says with a nervous chuckle as he tugs his phone out his pocket. He swipes it unlocked and opens a fresh contact page, handing it over to Zayn who inputs his number with shaky fingers.

“Me neither,” Zayn admits. “Not many people back home know I prefer boys, so, like, I don’t act on it all that much.”

“You can’t tell anyone yet though,” Liam pleads. “It’s not… the label doesn’t want me to come out just yet.”

“I promise you, I won’t,” Zayn reassures. “I have no intention of outing my holiday fling, not before we’ve started anyway.”

“I had no idea it could be this easy,” Liam says timidly.

“You think I’m easy?” Zayn says, raising an eyebrow.

“God, no!” Liam says, eyes widening in horror. “No, god, no, I didn’t…”

“I’m joking, Liam, it’s okay,”
“Oh thank god,” Liam sighs out. “I thought I’d completely misjudged the situation and you were just laughing at me.”

“You were the one who just called me easy,” Zayn points out, though he’s smiling so Liam knows he’s joking. “Liam, I’m kidding, it’s fine.”

“Good, because I don’t get to do this very often and I don’t wanna fuck it up before it’s even begun,” Liam grins. “Do you, like, want to meet up tomorrow then? I’ll take you to dinner or something.”

“Wining and dining me before we make sweet love?” Zayn coos, ignoring how hard his heart is pounding under his shirt at the very thought of finally getting laid after so long.

“Something like that,” Liam beams, taking his hand and pressing a kiss into his knuckles like a prince. The seatbelt sign above their heads pings off again and he unbuckles his seatbelt, looking almost regretful. “I should probably go back before I’m missed. I was only using this loo because Niall was in ours. But thank you, Zayn, and I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” Zayn gulps, still blushing from Liam’s brief kiss. “Tomorrow, yeah?”

“Tomorrow,” Liam agrees with a smile.

He disappears towards the back of the plane and Zayn sits for the rest of the flight wondering what the fuck just happened.

The plane lands and they have to wait for a while until all of first class gets off first before they can trudge off the plane and into the stifling heat that is Napa. They hurry to baggage claims and then hop into a taxi, which drives them the short distance to their grotty looking hotel for an extortionate fair.

“What crawled up your arse and died?” Ant says, sitting on top of Zayn as he flops facedown onto one of the bed and sighs heavily. Zayn yelps and rolls him over to the floor, glaring down at him.

“You,” he snaps back. “Making me get on a plane.”

“Yes, but,” Danny says as he pulls Ant to his feet, “you’ve been weirder since we got off the plane. Jumpy, even.”

He sighs. “I’m just tired,” he lies, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Didn’t sleep all that well on the plane.”

“Diddums,” Danny snickers, flopping down on the other bed in the room. “Okay, so I vote we rotate between that other bedroom. If someone’s pulled, they get dibs, yeah?”

“Sounds fair,” Ant agrees. They both look at Zayn expectantly.

“Sounds fair,” Zayn mumbles in agreement. “Although I don’t think I’ll be needing it much.”

“Oh c’mon, Zayn mate, don’t be so self-deprecating!” Danny says, slapping him on the back. “You’re a catch and it’s unlikely you’re going to be the only fairy in the whole of Ayia Napa.”

“S’true,” Ant grins, giving Zayn a slobbery kiss on the cheek. “We can go gay clubbing tomorrow if you fancy?”

“Shall we just go with the flow?” Zayn says, unsure of how to tell his two best friends he’s actually got a date with a famous boybander tomorrow evening instead. Liam had asked him not to out him so he can’t tell them, right? Is it even a date?

Turns out it’s easier than he had thought to blag it. After long naps, showers and a hurried dinner of the super noodles Trisha had shoved in his suitcase they head out to a bar. Danny and Ant order a round of shots straight away and it only takes a few of those to loosen Zayn up nicely, thoughts of Liam slipping from his mind as he lets another drink slip down his throat.

Day two

Zayn wakes up to a sizeable headache, a full bladder and an empty flat.

He’s naked save for his boxers and he groans reluctantly as he peels the duvet off himself to pad to the toilet. Once he’s pissed, he sticks his head into the other bedroom but it’s completely empty, one bed still in the same unmade state Danny left it in after his nap.

He pads back to the bed and fishes around in the blankets for his phone, pulling it out and opening his group WhatsApp message with the two of them.

oiiiii where are your sorry arses?????

He lets his eyes drop closed until he feels his phone buzz under his pillow again, showing a reply from Danny.

pulled!!!!!! she is helllaaaa fit bro

Zayn snorts.

youre at hers then?

yeah bro just finished round two now gna shower see you in an hour!!!!!!

Zayn texts back a be safe you animal and locks his phone again, shoving it under his pillow and closing his eyes again in the hope that he can sleep his headache off.

He’s woken up what feels like seconds later by the door unlocking, a body colliding with an abandoned suitcase and a muffled curse. He groans, peeling the duvet off from over his head and weakly flipping off whoever woke him up.

“Mate,” Ant croaks weakly, sliding into the bed next to him. “Mate, I’m dying.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn replies, burying his head in the pillow. “My head hurts too much for your whining.”

“Mate,” Ant repeats, rolling over to stare at him, “I think I’m in love. This girl I pulled, fucking wild and so, so sexy.”

Zayn snorts, rolling himself over so they’re looking at each other. “Can I be best man?”

“Oh my god, Zayn, you don’t even understand. She’s honestly, like, my dream. And she wants to see me again.”

“What’s her name?”

“Leigh-Anne. Like she’s got these amazing eyes, afro hair and this body; my god, Zayn, I think even you would have been tempted.”

Zayn groans. “It doesn’t work like that, you arse.”

“Yeah, well,” Ant hums. “I’m telling you, she’s got these thighs… OW!”

Zayn stuffs his pillow back under his head and burrows under the duvet. “Shut up.”

“Fine,” Ant grumbles, tugging the duvet up over him.

Zayn wakes up a couple of hours later to the smell of McDonald’s and the sight of a grinning Danny dangling an enticing bag of food above his head.

“Afternoon, sleepyhead,” he says. Zayn snatches the food out of his hand and opens the bag, the glorious smell of unhealthy food curling his toes and making his hangover dissipate rapidly.

“Afternoon, you slutty slut,” he says through a mouthful of fries. “How was your night?”

Danny just grins, gesturing with his Fillet-o-fish to the lovebites littering his neck. “Wild!”

“Again with the wild,” Zayn groans, digging into his nuggets. God, they’re wonderful. “You’re equally as disgusting as your brother.”

“Just because you didn’t pull,” Ant says, flipping him off as he emerges from the bathroom.

“Who says I didn’t?” Zayn says.

“Did you?”

He’s about to open his mouth to give some form of witty retort when his phone vibrates under his pillow, this time from an unsaved number, but he knows who it is.

hiiiiii zayn its liam. just wondering if u still wanted 2 see me 2night lol xxx

“Yes, actually,” Zayn says, hurriedly locking his phone. “His name was Liam.”

“Ooooh, Leeyum?” Danny says, drawing it out. “Did you shag him in your bed or at his?”

“Here,” Zayn says, “but he didn’t stay the night.”

“Poor Zaynie,” Danny teases. “So you’re not seeing him again?”

“Actually, he’s taking me out tonight,” Zayn says smugly, only feeling a little bit bad about lying.

“Oooh, get you!” Ant says, chucking a chip at him. “Your turn, Danny. What was your pull like?”

“Top shag,” Danny beams. “Gorgeous girl, she is too. She even has a sexy name. Sophiaaaaa.”

“Exotic,” Zayn drawls sarcastically. “Are you seeing her again?”

“Maybe. She’s a great girl, fucking phenomenal shag. We’ve swapped numbers but I figured I’d try my luck again tonight, who knows?”

“When are you seeing Leigh-Anne again, Ant?”

“You’re both seeing yours again?” Danny asks incredulously. “Bloody hell, maybe I should text Sophia.”

The two brothers start bickering so Zayn unlocks his phone and opens his conversation with Liam again, biting down on his bottom lip.

Yeah of course liam. what time, babe? xxx

The reply comes almost instantly.

half 6? ill pick u up frm ur hotel? Xxx

You were serious about the wining and dining? Xxx

well if u can deal with expensive room service cos i cant take u out in public thn ye ;) xxx

Already sounds better than the food i’ve been eating the past 24 hrs. my hotel is called the Koas Hotel, near the strip xxx

therell b a driver waitin 4 u in the foyay! Xxx

Zayn’s already too fond of the way Liam spells. He grins as he locks his phone, thinking about how many teenage girls across the world would kill to have the conversation they’ve just had. He looks up and nearly jumps at how intense his two mates are staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you pull the guy or did he shoot you straight through the heart with Cupid’s bow?” Ant asks with a shit-eating grin.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re grinning worse than this tosser,” Danny says, jabbing Ant in the stomach. “Was he that good in the sack?”

“You have no idea,” Zayn says, his heart thumping. “So what are you two doing tonight anyway?”

“Leigh-Anne again, if I play my cards right,” Ant winks. Both Danny and Zayn groan.

“Hideous,” Zayn says, sticking out his tongue.

“What? Shags all round!” Ant yells gleefully, grabbing his brother in a headlock. Danny bats him away but he’s grinning too and by the end of it Zayn’s grinning, pleased for his two best friends.

They end up spending the rest of the day by the pool, toasting in the sun while Danny and Ant leer over their sunglasses at the girls in bikinis. Zayn ignores them, rolling onto his stomach and dozing in the heat until just after half five. He bids them goodbye and heads back upstairs to his bedroom where he showers thoroughly (he isn’t sure which way Liam will want to do it so it’s best to be prepared), styles his hair, dresses in skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt, cleans his teeth and then heads down to the foyer.

Avoiding the gaggles of already drunk screaming girls, he takes a seat on one of the uncomfortable sofas and waits with clasped hands, bumping his knees up and down in anticipation. It’s been too long since he’s had a good shag and he can hardly wait.

“Are you Zayn?” a voice above him suddenly says. He only jumps a little bit as he looks up and sees a beefy bloke with an Irish accent and a crew cut.

“Er, yeah, I’m Zayn,” he says, standing up nervously.

“Follow me then, please. My name is Preston, I’m one of Liam’s security team. I have some contracts for you to sign in the car but you don’t look like a psychotic fan, which is always a start.”

Zayn laughs apprehensively, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as he follows the bloke out into the car park. The car he’s lead to is sleek black with tinted windows and Preston opens the door for him before sliding round to the other side and buckling in next to him.

“Right, Zayn lad,” he says, knocking on the partition so the car starts up. “Before we let you in young Liam’s room I have a few questions followed by a privacy contract for you to sign. Nothing against you or nothin’ but we can’t take any risks, I’m afraid. Are you willing to sign?”

“I, er, what are they for?” Zayn asks dumbly.

“Just to make sure you agree that this is consensual, you weren’t seduced or forced into it by any of us in his security team and that you won’t leak your holiday affair with Liam of One Direction to the press. It’s just a precaution, you know?”

“Oh, right, er, sure,” he says, taking the pen and scanning over the contract. It’s not anything he hadn’t anticipated (although the threat of being sued if he talks to any journalists about this week makes him feel a little bit ill) but he signs it easily enough.

“Lovely,” Preston says, snatching it off him and tucking it inside a manila folder. “It’s about a twenty minute drive, son, you good with that?”

“Yeah, course,” Zayn says, shuffling back. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and finds a text from Liam, which he opens with a grin.

u been collectd yet? Xxx

yeah i’m on my way so should be about twenty minutes xxx

:D :D :D xxx

“Is that Liam by any chance?” Preston asks with a snort.

“Um, yeah, he…”

“You know, that lad is bloody nervous about tonight,” Preston continues. “The others have been ribbing him all day for it. He doesn’t do this very often.”

“Yeah, he, er, he said,” Zayn says, locking his phone and wriggling it back into his jeans. “Shouldn’t I be the nervous one though?”

“What for? He’s just a kid with an exceptional job, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Zayn says, staring out the window. “Just not every day you need to sign a contract for a shag, you know?”

“Yeah, but that’s for management, not him,” Preston points out.

Zayn hums and nods, suddenly more nervous than he thought he would be. “Um, so, I can’t tell my mates who I’m on holiday with where I’m going either?”

“Well, what did you tell them now?”

“Um, that I was with this lad I pulled last night. They stayed out with other girls so they bought it easy enough.” He laughs nervously.

“Well, I mean, if you can avoid it for now then I’d rather you did,” Preston says matter-of-factly. “Just to avoid all issues if you can. We really can’t risk his sexuality coming out now, not with this new European tour coming up.”

“Right, right,” Zayn nods pathetically.

“Not that it should be that way,” Preston says quickly when he sees how forlorn Zayn looks at that. “But we need to keep the girls wanting, you understand?”

Zayn nods again, reassured that at least he’s not in a car with some homophobic arsehole. The butterflies don’t die down until they reach Liam’s huge hotel, a grand and expensive looking building that towers high up into the Cyprus sky. He gulps, running a hand through his hair as he realises just how underdressed he is.

“We’re going in the back way,” Preston grunts. The driver takes them round to a rather scrappy looking entranceway and they end up driving underneath the hotel into a dark car park, which does nothing to ease Zayn’s nerves.

“There’s a private lift to their floor,” Preston explains, gesturing for Zayn to get out the car before he leads him over to the elevator doors. “We’ve hired out the entire sixteenth floor and one of the pools for them. Sounds extravagant but once we had a girl break into the hotel by climbing in a bin, so we have to be careful.”

“Jesus,” Zayn mutters, stepping inside the lift and letting Preston input the key code. The lift springs into action and shoots them up to Liam’s floor, Zayn taking a deep breath as the doors ping open. He steps out and follows Preston down the hallway, where he raps his knuckles on room 1612.

Liam opens the door seconds later and his face spreads into a wide grin when he sees Zayn next to Preston. “Hiya,” he breathes out nervously and Zayn grins, murmuring quick words of hello back.

“Here ya go,” Preston grins. “If you need me you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Preston,” Liam beams back. “You’re a star. Where would I be without you?”

“Just try to keep it down, yeah?” Preston replies. “I’ve already had it up to here with loud couples on this tour so far.”

Liam snorts before turning back to Zayn, who is still standing awkwardly in the doorway wondering what the hell he’s doing. “Come in, yeah?”

Zayn nods, ducking his head as he steps into the most lavishly decorated room he’s ever been in in his entire life. He whistles, impressed, and Liam flushes.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it? I still can’t get my head around the fact that I get to stay here.”

“It’s nothing like I’ve ever stayed in, that’s for sure,” Zayn grins, sitting himself down on the plush sofa. Liam comes over and sits opposite him, grinning awkwardly and so adorably that Zayn can barely stand it.

“Sorry,” he breathes out after about thirty seconds of silence. “I meant it when I said I don’t know what to do in situations like this.”

Zayn snorts a laugh and looks up. “Well, lucky for you I do this quite a lot,” he says, ducking forward before he can second-guess himself and presses his lips onto Liam’s.

Liam makes an almost surprised sound but his hands find Zayn’s shoulders easily enough, eventually coming up to cup around Zayn’s neck and he kisses back fervently. Zayn happily parts Liam’s lips with his tongue and settles comfortably in Liam’s lap, adjusting himself after a few moments when he feels Liam’s semi pressing into his thigh.

“Fuck,” he breathes, kissing him again, harder this time. “You’re so hard already, Jesus Liam.”

“I told you I don’t do this very often,” Liam says, his cheeks flushed bright red with a combination of arousal and embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t,” Zayn assures, grinding down into a squirming Liam’s lap. “It’s really hot.”

“You’re really hot,” Liam smiles back, tugging him in for another kiss. “Oh fuck, Zayn.”

He shifts so he’s pressing Zayn onto his back on the sofa, his hands moving from Zayn’s neck down his sides so they’re tugging on the hem of his t-shirt. “Get this off,” he mumbles into his mouth and Zayn reluctantly lets go of Liam’s beautiful arms so he can raise his own above his head, letting Liam slide the sweaty material up and off him.

“You too,” he pants back. Liam grapples to tug his own vest off his body, dropping it to the floor because he grabs at Zayn’s face and kisses him harder, more insistent. Zayn’s own jeans are starting to feel about ten times too small and he grinds up, knocking their bulges together again.

“How, shit, how do you wanna do this, babe?” Liam grits out, sliding his hands down Zayn’s tattooed torso. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Zayn groans, back arching as Liam starts kissing down his collarbones. “Can I fuck you?”

“Anything you want,” Liam says, punctuating each word with a sloppy kiss. “Here or b-bed?”

“Bed,” Zayn pants after a few moments, torn between wanting Liam on his hands and knees and just staying here so they can just grind against each other until they come.

Liam places one last kiss over Zayn’s playing card tattoo and shuffles to sit up, tugging Zayn up with him. They kiss filthily one last time before Liam reluctantly pulls away and stumbles clumsily off the sofa towards the bed. Zayn follows, finally sliding his jeans down to free his aching dick. Liam mirrors him, kicking off his shoes and socks and clambering onto the huge bed.

Zayn licks his lips as he watches Liam roll over and rummage in the bedside table for the bottle of lube and a strip of condoms, his tan back glinting with sweat and his muscles rippling deliciously. He hurries onto the bed and rolls Liam over, climbing on top of him and licking into his mouth, drowning out Liam’s noise of surprise.

His hands wander down Liam’s lithe body and dip slightly under the waistband of his Calvin Kleins, cupping his arse. He grins as Liam’s entire body squirms and he breaks the kiss so he can tug Liam’s boxers down to his ankles, his cock snapping out and curling up towards his stomach.

“Fuck,” Zayn breathes out, shuffling back up to kiss Liam again. Liam moans into it and palms Zayn’s own bum, tugging his boxers down as far as he can from their position. Their cocks knock together and they both groan so Zayn reaches across Liam’s body and grabs their supplies, kissing his way down Liam’s abs until he gets to what he wants.

“Hands and knees for me, babe?”

Liam rolls over and props himself up, letting Zayn run his hands over the soft skin of his back and arse before he opens his cheeks ever so slightly, running a dry finger over his hole teasingly. Liam groans and presses back so Zayn makes quick work, grabbing the lube, uncapping it and spreading it across his fingers.

“Ready?”

“Fuck, like yesterday,” Liam groans and Zayn chuckles as he presses his fingers in between Liam’s arsecheeks once more, just circling the hole.

“Hurry up,” Liam says through gritted teeth, rocking back on his knees to try and take Zayn’s finger inside him. Zayn presses it inside slowly at first but then picks up the pace as Liam growls from above him, pumping it in and out as fast as he can given just how fucking tight Liam is.

He slides another in without warning and Liam groans, clenching around him hotly. Zayn pumps his fingers in and out, adding more lube so he can slide in a third. He’s so painfully hard and Liam isn’t helping, the moans he’s making as Zayn scissors his fingers and brushes over his prostate practically pornographic.

“Ready?” he croaks and Liam nods hurriedly, sticking his arse up higher. Zayn rips a condom from the strip and slides it on himself as Liam pumps himself back to full hardness, groaning as the tip of Zayn’s dick slides between his cheeks.

“Zayn!”

Zayn grips Liam’s hips hard as he starts to press in, thumbing across them as Liam groans at the stretch and burn. He inches in slowly, panting at how fucking wonderful Liam feels wrapped around him like this.

“Oh Jesus,” Liam groans, his hands gripping the sheets and pulling them into him. Zayn uses extreme self-control not to just pull back and drive into him as hard and fast as he can and waits for Liam to give him the OK, clenching around him a few times before he chokes out a “move, Zayn, please.”

Zayn adjusts his grip of Liam’s hips and pulls back, snapping his hips and driving back in. It takes a few minutes to pick up a rhythm but Liam eventually starts grinding back to meet Zayn’s thrusts, his thighs trembling and his hands gripping the sheets.

The sounds leaving Liam’s lips are sinful and Zayn is having a hard time staying composed. He wants to reach around Liam’s sweaty body and wrap a hand around his cock but he also wants to draw this out.

He can feel Liam trembling so he makes a snap judgement and pulls out, rolling Liam onto his back before guiding himself back in. “You good?”

“Mmhmmm,” Liam whimpers, wrapping his legs around Zayn’s waist and tugging him in deeper. “Oh, fuck, Zayn, more, please.”

Zayn grabs Liam’s ankle and throws it over his shoulder so he can drive in harder, unable to stop his grin as Liam moans obscenely. He pistons his hips harder, knowing he’s nudging Liam’s sweet spot over and over as Liam throws his head back, tiny noises leaving his lips on every upward thrust.

“Touch yourself,” Zayn pants, reaching forward to guide Liam’s hand to his prick from where it’s clenching in and out of the bed sheets. “Yeah, fuck, Liam, come for me.”

Liam pumps himself hurriedly; his face strained and sweat dripping down his brow at an alarming rate. Zayn’s belly tightens as he watches and feels Liam fall apart beneath him, his fist still milking him through the last of his orgasm as Zayn’s own hits. His hips stutter and he supports himself on Liam’s knee as he comes hard, eventually slumping forward to lie next to Liam.

Liam’s breath is hot against the back of his neck and he grins as he comes down, rolling onto his back so he can sit up and tug the condom off with minimal mess.

“Bloody hell, Zayn,” Liam says as Zayn rolls off the bed and pads towards the ensuite bathroom. “I haven’t come that hard in ages!”

“Glad to be of service,” Zayn calls back over the running tap. He comes back with a some tissue for Liam, who smiles as he mops up his white-streaked belly. “Was that okay, then?”

“Okay?” Liam asks incredulously. “That was, like, the best bottoming experience I’ve had in a long time.”

Zayn grins, pressing a kiss onto Liam’s forehead. “Glad to be of service,” he says again. “Erm, can I have a fag on your balcony?”

“Yeah, sure,” Liam says, padding naked across to the bin to throw the tissues away. “Give me a sec and I’ll join you.”

Zayn grabs his jeans from the floor and unhooks his crumpled boxers from them before digging in his pockets for his packet of cigarettes. He sticks one between his lips and tugs his boxers up, heading onto the balcony and lighting up.

He’s leaning against the railing, surveying the stunning horizon that Liam is privy to when he hears the door slide open and then there’s a topless body to his left, a cigarette also held between his teeth.

“Lighter?” he asks and Zayn hands his over. Liam cups his hand over the flame and inhales the sharp smoke before handing it back to Zayn, who smiles and leans across him to put it on the table.

They stand in a comfortable silence for a while, Zayn turning back to look at the skyline while Liam goes to wrap a tentative arm around his waist.

“Liam,” he says after Liam’s pulled his arm away shyly for the third time, “I have literally just had my cock in your arse and you’re worried about putting an arm around my waist?”

“Sorry,” Liam mumbles, but he tightens his grip, letting it rest almost possessively at Zayn’s side. “I like cuddling after sex, I guess.”

“You’re adorable,” Zayn grins, leaning into his side and stubbing his cigarette out on the railing. “Not adorable enough to have bought me dinner before our fuck, mind, but adorable all the same.”

“Hey!” Liam says indignantly, flicking his ash to the ground below. “You kissed me.”

“That I did,” Zayn chuckles. “But in all seriousness, I’m bloody famished.”

Liam grins, sliding his hand into Zayn’s and tugging him back inside, Zayn’s lighter forgotten on the table.

Liam phones for room service and they end up eating burgers and chips in their pants on the sofa while The Inbetweeners plays on in the background. It’s not how Zayn envisioned spending his holiday but Liam is fit and a good laugh and the food is really fucking tasty so he can’t complain.

He hears his phone vibrate at around half ten and he untangles his legs from Liam’s to find it in the pile of clothes still littering the floor. It’s Danny, of course, asking if he’s coming back for their night out.

“Liam?” he asks. “Liam, did you want me to stay or should I go back to my mates?”

“Stay,” Liam says quickly. His eyes go wide and he backtracks. “I-I mean, if you want. I was going to ask if you wanted to shag again but if you want to get back…”

“Nah, let’s shag,” Zayn decides, typing out a quick reply. He goes back over to the sofa and slides his phone onto the coffee table before crawling back over into Liam’s space. “You have such a way with words.”

Liam doesn’t reply, just wraps his arms around Zayn’s neck and kisses him.

Day Four

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Huh?” Zayn yawns, rolling over to face Liam. He hasn’t left Liam’s room in over thirty-six hours, going home on the Friday morning and coming back Friday afternoon for another enthusiastic romp. He’s exhausted and covered in love bites and he kind of wants to just cuddle and fall asleep but clearly Liam has other plans.

“I said, tell me about yourself.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow.

“What, we can’t be friends on the side? Is all I am to you a piece of meat already?” Liam crows, putting his hand on his heart dramatically.

Zayn pretends like he wasn’t nearly rendered speechless by the way Liam’s muscles flexed under the moonlight when he moved his arm like that and just grins softly.

“Okay, okay. I’m twenty, twenty-one in January. I’ve got three sisters. I’m from Bradford in Yorkshire. My celebrity crush is Frank Ocean. Is this the kind of thing you’re after?”

Liam grins wider, nodding. Zayn keeps his eyebrows raised but continues.

“I have a dog called Harley. I listen to mostly RnB but I’m a sucker for some Pink Floyd. My favourite food is probably KFC or my mum’s spag bol. Anything else?”

“God, I love people who tell me normal things,” Liam groans, rolling his head back. “Nobody talks to me like that anymore except the boys and my family. Everyone’s always ‘ooh, Liam, do you know this person?’ or ‘would you be able to send Simon Cowell my demo?’”

“That was going to be my next question,” Zayn says solemnly.

“Wanker.”

“So, tell me about you then,” Zayn encourages.

“Okay, um. Two sisters, two parents. Wolverhampton born and bred. I have a dog called Loki and I listen to mostly RnB but I’m a sucker for a pop banger. I fucking love KFC and I have this thing for hot boys with lots of tattoos.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” Zayn coos, running his finger through the smattering of hair on Liam’s chest. “Maybe I should change my celebrity crush to you, you charming little shit.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” Liam drawls back, moving closer to capture Zayn’s lips in a kiss. “Even if you do smell a little bit.”

“Well, excuse me,” Zayn says indignantly as he pulls back, “but somebody didn’t want to let me leave the bed.”

“What a knob,” Liam says, kissing the pout off Zayn’s face. “Can I suck you off in the shower?”

Zayn groans. “I want to sleep, Liam!”

“I want to give you an orgasm, Zayn!” Liam whines back, licking his cheek. “And tomorrow we don’t get to shag because apparently our friends want us or some shit so c’mon!”

“Urgh, fine,” Zayn grumbles, shoving the duvet off and stomping towards the bathroom, pretending he’s not incredibly excited to feel Liam’s delicious mouth around him. Liam slaps his arse and grabs him around the middle, sucking a mark onto Zayn’s shoulder and he keens, turning around to kiss him properly.

The water hits Zayn’s back and he jumps because it’s bloody freezing but it’s easy enough to distract himself because Liam is warm and pliant around him, sucking on his bottom lip and groping his bum hard.

“Fuck, you’re so fit,” Liam whispers, barely audible above the water. Zayn groans and kisses him again, unable to get enough of Liam’s mouth and Liam’s hands and Liam’s scent and Liam.

Liam breaks the kiss to slide down his body, kissing along his collarbones and nipples before he drops to his knees, lips trailing along the don’t think I won’t tattooed there. He looks up with wide eyes as he takes Zayn in hand and strokes him to full hardness, lips pressing a gentle kiss onto the tip before he takes Zayn in his mouth and sucks him down.

Zayn has never had anyone suck him like Liam does. Liam isn’t incredibly experienced, which is fine because neither is Zayn, but he makes up for it with pure enthusiasm. He takes Zayn down as far as he can, tightening his mouth and sliding himself up and down with obscenely filthy slurps. His eyes are wide and leaking but they’re full of sincerity and questioning like everything to do with Liam is, wanting to make it good for Zayn as well as for himself.

“Liam,” Zayn croaks, thumbing away some of Liam’s tears before he can stop himself. “Shit, Liam.”

Liam bobs his head faster, taking Zayn down further while his fingers leave bruises on Zayn’s thighs. Zayn keens, his back arching as he spills down Liam’s throat. Liam gags but takes it in his stride, slurping around him to make sure he caught every drop.

“Liam,” Zayn says again, sliding his back down the wall and cupping Liam’s neck so he can kiss him messily. He crawls on top of him, still attached at the mouth and starts pumping him, stroking him to a quick and messy orgasm in just a few minutes.

Liam bites down on Zayn’s bottom lip as he comes, his wet body slumping tiredly against the glass of the shower as Zayn pulls himself out of Liam’s grasp to let the water wash the spunk from between their bodies.

“Jesus,” Liam groans, dramatically flopping his body back as Zayn grins and leans over him for another kiss. “Now, aren’t you glad you got out of bed?”

“Incredibly,” Zayn drawls, propping himself up on his knees and extending a hand to Liam to pull him to his height. “Pass us the shampoo, will you?”

“Is that all the thanks I get for a dynamite blow job?”

“Thank you for the blow job,” Zayn says, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulders and kissing him again. Liam drops the bottle of shampoo and wraps himself around Zayn again, slipping his tongue into his mouth and smiling into the kiss.

It takes a while but eventually they make it back to bed, damp and naked and shattered. Zayn collapses straight back onto the side he’s been sleeping on while Liam heads over to the curtains to draw them.

Zayn’s eyes are shut but he feels Liam’s now familiar weight dip onto the bed a few moments later. He’s not expecting Liam’s large hands to trail down his back and then up again.

“Zayn?” he whispers.

He thinks about ignoring him but nobody falls asleep that fast so he makes a sleepy noise of acknowledgement.

“Never mind,” Liam says after a pause, pressing a quick kiss on the side of Zayn’s head before flopping down onto his side of the bed.

Zayn’s just about to drop off when he feels Liam scrabble out of bed and then he hears the sound of the balcony door open before the faint yet familiar smell of tobacco reaches his nostrils. He sighs and rolls over, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to get up and make sure Liam is okay.

A few moments later, the balcony slides closed again and Liam gets back into bed, lying himself flush with Zayn and draping an arm across his waist.

“You’re going to be so difficult to let go, you know,” he thinks he hears Liam whisper after a few moments. He tenses but Liam just snuffles and pulls him closer.

He stays awake longer than he’d care to admit thinking about it.

Day five

“I’ll see you on Monday though, yeah?”

Zayn wants to say no. He’s already in too deep already and Liam definitely is too.

“Yes.”

“Zayn Malik, where the fuck have you been all my life?”

Zayn grins, dropping his backpack to the floor and engulfing Ant in a massive hug. He’s happier than he thought he’d be to be back in his shitty hotel room with his shitty best friends eating shitty noodles cooked on their shitty stove.

“Look at your fucking neck, you animal!” Danny shouts. “You slaaaaaag!”

“Yeah, yeah, leave it alone,” Zayn scowls as Ant pokes at a particularly big bruise under his jaw. “He’s a biter.”

“Have you just had sex for forty-eight hours straight then?”

“Pretty much,” Zayn can’t help but turn his scowl into a grin thinking about it. “He did buy me room service a few times, to be fair. We took a couple of naps, watched some films.”

“And neglected us,” Danny says, pretending to cry into his brother’s shoulder.

Zayn looks sheepish. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s just…”

“Mate, we’re fucking joking,” Ant says, shoving his brother off. “This fucker’s been with Sophia and her friends and I’ve been with Leigh.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, suddenly wondering why the fuck that information makes him want to go straight back to Liam’s.

“But we’re going out as lads tonight, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely!” Zayn says, eager to snap himself out of his Liam daze. “I wanna get properly smashed again.”

Turns out that getting properly smashed isn’t a very wise move.

“Anthony,” Zayn slurs a few hours later. “Anthony Riach, best buddies since the age of three!”

“Aye, that’s us,” a decidedly less drunk Ant replies, draping an arm over Zayn’s shoulders and plucking the shot out of his hand before he downs it. “Besties til the grave!”

“Anthony Riach, I think I like him too much,” Zayn giggles, reaching for another shot.

“Like who? Your boy toy?”

“He’s so fit,” Zayn whines, resting his head on Ant’s shoulder. “He’s got, like, the best body ever. And he’s taller than me and he’s got this fucking mouth…”

“Zayn,” Ant says, eyes going wide as he claps a hand over Zayn’s mouth. “If I am not allowed to talk about the wonderful merits of Leigh’s thighs then what your holiday shag can do with his mouth is definitely out of the question.”

“He’s so sweet too,” Zayn continues blindly. “Like I know he’s rich and famous as fuck and he could have anyone he fucking wanted but he wants me, isn’t that something?”

Ant chokes on his shot. “Famous?”

“Sssssshh,” Zayn says, clapping his own hand over Ant’s mouth. “Nobody is meant to know he’s famous. No, wait, they can know he’s famous. They just can’t know we’re fucking.”

“Zayn, what the fuck?” Ant says, steadying Zayn’s shaky body. “Who is this guy?”

“Can’t tell youuuuu,” Zayn singsongs. “I signed a contract and I don’t want to get in trouble!”

“So you like him a lot but you can’t talk to anyone about it?”

“Yep,” Zayn says, popping the P. “We can’t be together, like, ever, so I just need to enjoy this while it lasts.” He flops down onto a bar stool forlornly.

“I thought you only wanted a holiday thing though?” Ant asks, sitting opposite him. “You’re going to uni in three weeks, you definitely don’t want to be tied down.”

“I know,” Zayn pouts, reaching for another shot. At least vodka isn’t betraying him. “I know that.”

“Oh bebz,” Ant says as he watches Zayn neck back another two shots in a row. “I don’t want to put you on a downer, obviously, but you have known him for five days, mate. How much can you know about each other? Not enough to think you love him.”

“I don’t love him,” Zayn says with as much exasperation as a drunk person can muster. “But I definitely could. But he can’t love me back.” He slumps onto his elbows. “This fucking sucks.”

“Why is everybody over here so sad-looking?” Danny’s voice says from behind him. He turns to see his best friend beaming at them, his arm around a beautiful girl in an orange top and short white denim shorts.

“Zayn’s having boy trouble,” Ant says gently, clapping a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “I’m not sure he should keep drinking, to be fair.”

“What kind of boy troubles?” Danny asks, grabbing Zayn’s shoulder and twirling the bar stool around. “Oh, this is Sophia, by the way.”

“Pleasure,” Zayn slurs, holding his hand out limply for her to shake. “I’m Zayn.”

“I know, babes,” she smiles shyly. “Do you want me to leave so you lads can chat?”

“Nope, s’fine,” Zayn shakes his head wildly. “I’m just gonna drink more, I think. Boys are stupid.”

“Boys are stupid,” Sophia agrees, kissing Danny on the cheek.

“Whatever, let’s just party!” he yells, tugging her round for a proper kiss. Ant sighs but lets Zayn lean on him as they go back onto the dancefloor.

“And next tonight in Pop Tarts we have a pop classic by everybody’s favourite One Direction!” the DJ shouts down the mic. Zayn groans.

“Ant, I wanna go.”

“Why? Are you gonna hurl?” Ant says, hitching an arm around Zayn’s back to keep him standing.

“I don’t wanna listen to Liam,” he whines, trying to drag Ant out.

“Liam’s here?” Ant wonders aloud, turning to stare back into the crowd but Zayn shakes his head wildly, yanking him outside. “Wait, famous…. Fucking… Zayn, are you screwing Liam from One Direction? The one’s we saw in the airport?”

“Sssssshhhh!” Zayn shouts, tugging him into an alleyway. “It’s a secret.”

“Fuck, Zayn,” Ant groans, pressing his hands into his eyes. “How the fuck…?”

“Some giant fluke,” Zayn hiccups forlornly. “Kinda wish I wasn’t.”

“What do you want to do? Should I take you home?” Ant asks. Zayn shakes his head, toppling forward slightly.

“We can keep going after the song,” he mumbles into Ant’s shoulder. “Just lemme close my eyes for a sec first. Can you get me another drink?”

“Zayn, no,” Ant warns but Zayn ignores him. He just needs a little nap, that’s all.

He’s vaguely aware of a hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging him away from the loud sounds of the strip but he’s too drunk to really care. Oh well, here’s a bed. He can have that nap now.

“I’ll just have a nap then I’ll come back out,” he promises whoever brought him back. “Just gimme a few.”

“Yeah, whatever mate,” Ant’s voice tells him, tugging his shoes off his feet. “Try not to puke on your duvet.”

He’s out before he even hears the door close.

Day six

“There we go, let it all up, big guy,” Ant says, stroking down Zayn’s bare back as he pukes up everything he drank last night.

“Fuck!” he groans weakly, pushing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes. “Can you get me some water?”

Ant nods, disappearing for a second before he reappears with a bottle from the mini-fridge. Zayn takes it as he stands up on shaky legs, cracking it open and leaning against the sink as he flushes the loo.

“What the fuck happened last night?” he croaks between gulps.

Ant steps sheepishly from one foot to another. “If I told you you drank about fourteen shots in an hour and then One Direction came on in a club would I need to say anything else?”

Zayn chokes on his water.

“I’m not judging!” Ant hurries to say. “And I won’t tell Danny, I promise. But Zayn, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Sounds like you’re judging to me,” Zayn says, grabbing his toothbrush.

“I’m not, I swear, I just… I just want to make sure my best friend isn’t some famous dickhead’s holiday experiment.”

“He’s not a dickhead,” Zayn says warningly, spitting out a mouthful of foam. “And I’m not. He can’t come out yet because they think it’ll affect ticket sales or something fucking stupid that doesn’t make sense in 2013.”

“Bloody hell,” Ant mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Where the fuck did you meet, for a start?”

“On the plane,” Zayn says, pushing past him to flop on the bed. “His loos were occupied so he came through to ours and there was turbulence so he was asked to sit next to us.”

“And I slept through that?” Ant asks incredulously, leaning against the doorway. “Jesus.”

“Look,” Zayn says, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I really fucking like him and I was drunk, okay? You really fucking like Leigh but it doesn’t mean anything’s going to come of it, right?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But what?”

“We’re going to be living in the same city, Zayn,” Ant says, flopping on the bed opposite. “Her at Manchester Uni, me at Manchester Met. It wouldn’t be the most difficult thing in the world. I mean, after freshers, of course, but, you never know.”

“Oh fuck off,” Zayn snaps. “Trust fucking fate to work in your favour while I fucking fall for the pop star who can’t love boys.”

“What are you talking about love for? It’s been five days, mate.”

“I know, I know,” Zayn groans, fisting his hands in his hair. “I need to snap out of it, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do,” Ant says. “Mate, you agreed it’s going to be a holiday thing, right? So it’s only feeling like a big deal because it’s happening right now, yeah? By the time you’re back in England and at uni shagging your way around London you’ll forget about him.”

“I suppose,” Zayn mumbles. “Just… promise you won’t tell Danny? Or Leigh, or anyone really.”

“Promise,” Ant agrees, holding out his hand for Zayn to clasp. Zayn grips it back, grateful to have a friend like Ant. “So when are you seeing him next?”

“Tomorrow,” Zayn says, reaching into his suitcase for a t-shirt. “He’s got some band thing today.”

“Fairs man,” Ant says. “So you and me can chill today then, yeah?”

“Oh god, please,” Zayn says. Anything that takes his mind of Liam is incredibly appealing.

They end up spending the day at the beach, Zayn dozing off his hangover while Ant plays his DS beside him. A few girls approach them asking if they want to come swimming or play volleyball but Ant politely declines for both of them, glinting his signature grin.

“Hey, Ant?” Zayn says, padding back shirtless with two trays of chips after his nap. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot, bro,” Ant says, digging in his bag for some sachets of ketchup leftover from their McDonald’s.

“Has my being, you know, gay, ever bothered you or whatever?” he says all in one breath.

Ant drops the chip he’s holding.

“Zayn, fuck,” he splutters. “Have we ever made you feel that way?”

“Well, no, but you know,” Zayn says, burning bright red. “I was never sure.”

“You dickhead,” Ant says, wiping his mouth. “I thought you were gonna tell me off for being a crap friend. I never really thought about it, to be fair. You were still the little fuck who shoved a crayon up my nose in nursery.”

Zayn snorts. “Sorry mate.”

“Nah, neither of us ever gave a shit,” Ant promises, shovelling in another mouthful of chips. “As long as you’re happy and getting laid on a regular basis, yeah?”

“Wassup?!” Danny yells from behind them again. “Turn your phone on, Malik, I’ve been looking for you fuckers all day!”

“Oh sorry, bro, it’s in our room,” Zayn says, scrunching his face. He’s definitely not left it there so he’s not thinking about Liam.

“What have you dicks been doing then?” Danny asks, flopping down onto the sunlounger and stealing a handful of Zayn’s chips. “Still moping, Zaynie boy?”

“Not gonna lie, I’ve felt better,” Zayn says, coughing out a nervous laugh. “But I’m here on a mate’s holiday, yeah? And you’ve probably been shagging all day so you can’t comment.”

“That I have, my friend,” Danny grins. “But you’re right. Just us guys tonight, yeah? I’ve missed you dicks.”

“We live together,” Ant points out.

“Semantics,” Danny says, waving him aside. “Zayn’s not getting as drunk as last night, am I right?”

“Fuck, no,” Zayn groans.

“Where did you go anyway? I turned around and you were gone.”

“He needed air and then he fell asleep in an alley so I took him home,” Ant jumps in as Zayn’s eyes go wide in mild panic.

Danny doubles over with laughter. “Class act!” he cackles, clapping Zayn on the back who shoots Ant a grateful grin.

That night, Zayn lets Ant and Danny take him to a club and he ends up grinding with a couple of guys but they all feel wrong.

He downs more shots and tries not to think about it.

Day seven

party 2night nd i want u to meet the guys. ur gonna come yeah? :D :D :D xxx

Zayn glares at his phone like that’ll get him out of this as Preston picks him up and directs him into the car. He’s wearing dark jeans and a floral jumper and he’s left his fringe down (definitely not because Liam said it made him look edible when it was down, not at all).

“So, like, this party’s away from cameras and stuff, yeah?” he asks Preston as they approach the hotel.

“Yeah, it’s at the poolside the lads hired out for the two weeks they’re here so it’s only them and a few of their team. It’s not a secret amongst friends, don’t worry.”

Zayn sighs, relieved that he’s not going to have to avoid Liam and look like a spare part. He unbuckles his belt and follows Preston out and into the lift up to the pool. He can hear pop music blaring and people shouting and laughing and his hand itches to slide itself into Liam’s.

“Zaynie!” Liam yells as soon as he and Preston step out the lift. He wobbles over and pulls Zayn into a tight hug, stumbling over an abandoned beer bottle. “You’re here!”

“Are you drunk, Liam?” Zayn giggles into his shoulder, trying not to dwell on just how much he’s missed having Liam’s arms around him. Liam giggles back, pressing kisses into his jaw and he has to use extreme self-control to pull back, eyes racking over Liam’s face. “You are drunk, babe.”

“It’s a party, I can be drunk,” Liam shrugs, winding his arm around Zayn’s waist and leading him clumsily over to where he was sat. “I want you to meet my boys.”

Zayn realises with a panic that he can’t actually remember the names of any of them apart from Liam. They’re spread across two sun loungers – a blonde lying across one with a pint in each hand and on the other a taller one with curly hair lying with his head in the lap of a shorter one with a face full of scruff.

“The infamous Zayn!” the scruffy one chirps, holding out his hand for Zayn to shake. “This fuck hasn’t shut up about you for a week. You must be an incredible shag!”

Zayn blushes as he shakes his hand. The curly one sits up and rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry about this one, he’s a bit of a prick when he’s drunk,” he says, but it’s fond. “I’m Harry, this is Louis and that’s Niall.”

“Zayn,” Zayn says with a little wave. Liam giggles again and nuzzles into his neck. “Nice to meet you all.”

“At long bloody last,” Louis says, snatching one of the pints from Niall’s hands. “Thought Liam was going to harbour you forever and we wouldn’t meet until your wedding day.”

Zayn pales and Liam gasps into his neck.

“Louis!” Harry chastises mournfully, covering his mouth with his hand. “Stop trying to embarrass Liam.”

“It’s what I was put on this earth to do,” Louis whines back, twisting his head away from Harry.

“Do, er, do you want a drink, babe?” Liam asks into his neck, his breath hot and stuttering. Zayn nods and Liam kisses the corner of his mouth before disappearing over to the bar. He stands awkwardly in front of the sun loungers, unsure of what to say until Niall shuffles over and tugs him down to sit next to them, handing him his pint to sip.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he instructs, pointing his finger right in Zayn’s face. “Liam wants you here possibly more than he wants us here.”

“S’true,” Louis chips in.

“Will you all stop making Zayn look so panicked?” Harry whines. “Ignore these two, Zayn, they’re just drunk.”

“Oi, you,” Louis snaps, slapping Harry’s cheek lightly. “Stop showing me up.”

“How’s your holiday been so far?” Harry says, ignoring Louis. “You know, aside from the sex with our bandmate.”

Niall cackles and Zayn grins through his blush. “It’s been alright, thanks. I mean, shagging your bandmate has been the highlight so far but the beach is also quite nice.”

Louis and Niall both cackle loudly at that. “We’re heading to the beach tomorrow,” Harry says with a grin. “We have to hire it out to avoid paps, it’s bullshit.”

“It was your idea,” Louis points out.

“Yes, and you know why,” Harry hisses. Louis shakes his head and disappears off to the bar.

Zayn chats idly with Niall and Harry for a few more minutes, eyes darting every now and then to where Liam and Louis appear to be doing shots together at the bar with a young woman with a shock of blonde hair.

“So when do you go home?” Niall asks after a while.

“Umm, in three days actually,” Zayn says. “I hadn’t actually realised how fast it had gone.”

“So you’re going to kidnap him for the next few days again then?” Harry teases. “Not that Liam would let you go anyway.”

Zayn laughs nervously, unsure of what to say until he feels a familiar weight curl up to his other side.

“Hi Zaynie baby,” Liam hiccups in his ear, sitting down on the edge of the sun lounger and resting his face in Zayn’s neck. “Got you a drinky.”

“Thanks, love,” Zayn murmurs, accepting the bottle of Budweiser and taking a hearty swig. “You okay?”

“I might be a little drunk,” Liam stage-whispers. “But that’s okay because it’s a party and I’ll drink if I want to.”

“A little drunk? Is that why you were just at the bar for twenty minutes?” Harry asks with a quick laugh.

“I was doing shots with the other Lou,” Liam pouts at him. “Zayn, c’mon, shall we dance?”

“I don’t dance,” Zayn says, shaking his head hurriedly. “No, no, no.”

“Zaaaaaayn!” Liam whines. “Please? For me?”

Zayn laughs, taking another swig of his beer before pressing his lips quickly onto Liam’s. “Maybe in a few shots time, babe.”

Liam brightens at that, disappearing off to get yet more shots. Zayn grins wide as he watches Liam sashay away and when he turns back Harry is watching him amusedly.

“What?” he asks, flushing.

“You two,” Harry grins, leaning back on his sun lounger smugly. “Just… look at you two. You light him up like nothing I’ve ever seen, Zayn. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

Zayn ducks his head, wishing he had more alcohol in him before he’s told stuff like this.

“S’true,” Niall says, draining his pint. “Liam really likes you, mate. And he doesn’t like many people.”

“I…” Zayn starts, cutting himself off when Liam presses a shot into his hand. “Thanks, babe.”

He downs the shot quickly, followed by a couple more in quick succession. Harry can’t stop grinning smugly over at them as Liam leads him around, introducing him proudly to their crew and friends, keeping him pressed closely into his side. Zayn meets countless people whose names are already forgotten by the time he’s on his sixth or seventh shot and eventually lets Liam drag him onto the dance floor, not really drunk enough for this but wanting to do it for Liam.

“You’re so fit,” Liam hisses into his ear filthily, draping his arms around his neck. “So fit that everyone’s jealous.”

“Liam, fuck,” Zayn groans, hands finding his hips.

“So fit,” Liam repeats, tugging him closer. “So fit and a good fuck, wanna keep you for a long time.”

“I go home in three days,” Zayn says quietly, half-hoping Liam won’t hear him and half-hoping he will so he has an excuse to get away.

“We can work around that,” Liam giggles, sucking a lovebite into his skin of his neck. Zayn groans, partly from embarrassment and partly from the fucking wonderful feeling of having Liam pressed up against him like this. “I have an idea, you see.”

Zayn wants to ask what the idea is but then an empty shot glass hits Liam in the back of the head and he bites down into Zayn’s skin hard before he looks up indignantly, stumbling slightly.

Louis looks gleeful, accepting a high-ten from Niall as he beams drunkenly over to them. “PDA elsewhere, Payno!”

“You have literally fucked Harry in the bus bunk below me!” Liam calls back. Louis’ face goes from a beam to one of panic and then Liam claps a hand over his mouth. “Shit.”

Zayn looks between the three boys and Liam, mouth open slightly in confusion. “Are they not out either?”

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you!” Liam moans, resting his forehead on the top of Zayn’s head. “That’s even more of a secret than my sexuality.”

“Oh,” Zayn says dumbly. He slides his hands into Liam’s and makes the quick decision to tug him over there.

“Hey, guys; look, I know I don’t know you all that well and I get that I wasn’t meant to know or anything, but I’m not gonna out you, I promise.”

Harry and Louis look up, standing only a slight distance apart like they could still deny it if they needed to.

“I’ve already said this to Liam – everyone needs to come out when it’s right for them to come out, you know? I don’t want, like, your money or fame or anything, I promise.”

Louis still looks sceptical, moving his hand away as Harry tries to hold it.

“I’m under contract too,” Zayn says desperately, feeling insanely guilty for how hurt Harry looks in that split second. “I can’t say anything about this week to a journalist without my arse getting sued, I promise.”

Louis nods slowly, finally taking Harry’s hand in his.

“It’s not…” Harry starts.

“Thank you,” Louis says quickly. He suddenly seems a lot more sober than he did five minutes ago. “You weren’t supposed to know because Management want to keep as few people in the know as possible but yeah. Thank you.”

“Sorry, Lou,” Liam mumbles from behind Zayn. “Forgot.”

“I should have known you would, you arse,” Louis snaps, curling himself into Harry’s side. “But you’re forgiven for picking an alright bloke, for once.”

Zayn smiles, tugging Liam behind him and pulling one of his arms over his shoulder. Liam buries his nose in Zayn’s thick hair and Zayn grins over to Harry shyly, who has Louis tightly pressed to his chest.

“Well,” Niall says. “I’m going to find my own person to snog. Well done, Liam, thank you, Zayn, get a room next time though, yeah?”

“Thanks, Ni,” Liam says forlornly. Zayn turns to kiss the pout off his face and Liam grips him tightly as he stumbles to turn. Zayn grins.

“Should we get you to bed?”

“S’only eleven,” Liam mumbles petulantly, looking around him. Zayn thumbs across his hips.

“We could have a party of our own,” he whispers. “A party where you put your dick in me, maybe?”

Liam grins, kissing him again. “I do want you to meet everyone properly, you know,” he hiccups. “Maybe when you’re not so drunk.”

“Cheeky shit,” Zayn says, pulling back and bopping Liam on the nose. “I want to meet them too though. Especially the lads, like, properly.” His hand trails down to Liam’s crotch. “I wanna get acquainted with something else right now though.”

“Haz, Lou?” Liam stutters, ignoring Zayn’s shit-eating grin. “We’re, um, we’re gonna go.”

“Bloody good,” Louis snaps. Harry runs a gentle hand up and down his chest and he sighs. “Nice to meet you, Zayn. Sorry you’re lumbered with this tosser.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Zayn says, almost tipping backwards as Liam stumbles again. “Hopefully I can meet you again when this one isn’t struggling so much for balance.”

“Yeah, we’d like that,” Harry says with a smile. “Goodnight, you two!”

“Be safe!” Louis calls over his shoulders as him and Harry walk towards the bar. Liam’s starting to sway drunkenly so Zayn winds a supportive arm around his back and leads him towards the door, blushing as catcalls aimed at Liam and him fill the air.

Liam flips the poolside off clumsily and lets out a giggle as he’s lead into a lift. He quickly presses himself up against Zayn, who laughs into his neck as he stumbles slightly when the lift jerks into life.

“You are so fit, Zaynie,” he murmurs again, cupping his face for a kiss. Zayn kisses back with his face still plastered into a grin. He trails his fingers up to Liam’s neck, grabbing his hand as the lift doors ping open and leading him down to his room.

“Never seen anyone like you before,” he continues as Zayn slips his hands into the back pockets of his jeans for the card key. “When I saw you on the plane I thought I was getting, like, some kind of air sickness or something.”

“Yeah, alright, love,” Zayn says, finally getting hold of it and opening the door for them. “I’m going to get a big fat head if you keep on.”

“You’d still be fucking fit,” Liam says dopily, taking off his snapback and putting it on Zayn’s head. “Will you ride me in my snapback?”

Zayn just kisses him, frogmarching him back towards the bed until his knees hit it and they collapse into the duvet in a tangle of limbs. Liam’s hard in his jeans, rutting up against Zayn’s thighs as they kiss.

“Wait here,” he murmurs against Liam’s lips. “Let me just go for a piss and then I’m all yours.”

“Seductive,” Liam slurs. Zayn kisses him quick before hopping off of him, peeling his jumper off on the way and shucking his jeans in the bathroom. He empties his bladder then pads back to the bedroom, snorting when he sees Liam snoring lying spread-eagled across the bed.

“Give me a couple of minutes, babe, then I’m all yours,” Liam murmurs. Zayn scoffs, bending down to tug Liam’s shoes off before rolling him over so he can slide his jeans down.

“Not tonight, Li, don’t worry. Lift your hips for me a sec.”

“S’not fair,” Liam whines dramatically. “We only have so much shagging time left. Let me fuck you, go on.”

“Nope,” Zayn says sweetly, chucking Liam’s trousers to the floor and curling up onto his chest. “Sleep for Liam.”

“I don’t normally get this drunk, I swear,” Liam mumbles into his bare shoulder. “I’m just sad today.”

“Why are you sad, Liam?” Zayn asks teasingly. “Too much money in your bank account?”

“No,” Liam says mournfully, drawing out the O sound. “You’re going soon and you shouldn’t so I’m sad.”

Zayn doesn’t know what to say to that. Liam just tightens his grip around Zayn’s middle.

“Stay.”

“Of course I’m staying,” Zayn says softly, kissing Liam’s cheek. “G’night, Li.”

“Night, Zaynie baby,” Liam mumbles, his breath warm as he lets out a long yawn.

Zayn stays a wake for a long time, Liam’s words playing over and over in his head long after he’s passed out in his arms.

Day nine

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Liam murmurs into Zayn’s sweaty neck. They’ve just had another fantastic fuck, Liam sitting in Zayn’s lap and riding him to a messy, drawn-out orgasm while Zayn’s teeth left red marks all across Liam’s chest

“Plane’s at 11am,” Zayn replies, exhaling a long breath and turning to look at Liam. “Why? You wanna work out how many shags we can squeeze in before then?”

“Yes,” Liam deadpans. “But not just that. I wanna spend time with you too.”

“Thanks, pal,” Zayn yawns, rolling onto his stomach. The sheets pool around his waist and Liam grins as he slides himself off the bed, padding naked towards his suitcase.

“I got you a present.”

“What?” Zayn grunts, rolling over. “Liam, why?”

“Because I wanted to,” Liam shrugs, plopping himself back down onto the bed. “I didn’t think I needed a reason to treat you.”

Zayn eyes the box in his hand suspiciously. “Liam, you really shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t need anything,” Liam insists, turning the box over nervously in his hands. “This week has been enough on its own. I just… I wanted to get you something.”

“Well, gimme,” Zayn beams, sitting up and making grabby hands like a child on Christmas. Liam smiles as he hands it over and Zayn presses a happy kiss into his lips as he pulls the wrapping paper off.

“Liam,” he says lowly as the wrapping paper unmasks the word Cartier written in gold on the black box. “Liam, Jesus.”

“Open it,” Liam encourages, suddenly looking quite shy. Zayn slides the lid off the box with a lump in his throat, opening it up to a pinky-gold watch with intricately decorated hands and a smooth, shiny finish.

Zayn has got literally nothing to say. He’s frozen in shock, his mouth open and his eyes wide in a combination of panic and complete and utter confusion.

“Do you… do you not like it?” Liam asks quietly, eyes searching over Zayn nervously.

“Liam,” Zayn croaks out, “what the fuck?”

“Wha…?”

“How much did this fucking cost?” Zayn asks, his voice quivering. “This probably cost, like, twice of what I earn in a whole year.”

“Well, it’s not for me,” Liam shrugs. “I saw it and I thought it was beautiful and I… I wanted you to have it.”

“No, fuck, Liam, I can’t accept this,” Zayn says, snapping the lid back on the box and shoving it back in Liam’s hands. “People who are sleeping together don’t buy each other fucking twenty grand watches.”

Liam freezes. “Is this… do you really think this is still just two people sleeping together?”

“Well, that’s what I fucking signed up for,” Zayn snaps, pulling the sheets up to fully cover him. “What the hell did you think, Liam?

“I thought you…”

“I don’t … I haven’t fallen in love with you or anything, Liam,” Zayn says, and it comes out colder than he intended. “This isn’t some romantic story where the holiday romance becomes a real one. I mean, come on!”

“I don’t love you either,” Liam croaks, eyes wide with hurt. “I don’t, but fuck Zayn, you can’t actually just think that this doesn’t run a little deeper?”

“I signed up for some holiday fun,” Zayn snaps, air quoiting the last two words. “We made it clear from the off where we stood.”

“I didn’t expect this to happen!” Liam shouts back. “Of course I didn’t expect to end up feeling like this, I mean, I’m not even out so I didn’t…”

“Exactly!” Zayn shrills. “You’re not out, so if we continue I’m your dirty little fucking secret. And I was fine with that when it was just for orgasms but if I let you mean something to me?”

“Do you want me to come out?”

Zayn lets out something that sounds something like a hysterical snarl. “Liam, Jesus Christ, you can’t offer shit like that for someone you’ve known for nine fucking days! And we both know you can’t!”

Liam crawls over and tries cupping Zayn’s face in his hands. “Could we not… do you want think this is worth trying? You’re so… I’ve never met anyone like you before and I want you to stay, Zayn, please.”

“Liam,” Zayn groans, gripping Liam’s wrists. “We will not work.”

“Why don’t you want to try?” Liam asks helplessly.

“Because,” Zayn explodes, “there are so many things that could, or would, tear us apart! So what I become your dirty little secret, yeah? And then I go to uni, where for the first time in my life I can sleep with who I want, and I can’t because I have a boyfriend, yeah? But I’m not allowed to tell anyone I have a boyfriend, am I? Meanwhile, you’re gallivanting across Europe for fuck knows how long while people throw themselves at you and you have to pretend you’re interested because you’re very heterosexual and very available. It wouldn’t work!”

“Wow,” Liam says in a small voice, dropping his arms to his side and standing off the bed. “Yeah, right, wow, that’s true. We wouldn’t work, would we?” He clears his throat, eyes going narrow as he continues. “Even though I know that I could never cheat on anyone, let alone someone who I have feelings as strong for as you for.”

Zayn gulps.

“And I also thought that you’d think I was worth more than just some anonymous meaningless sex, but clearly I thought wrong,” Liam continues, eyes no longer meeting Zayn’s. His voice is thick and Zayn realises he’s holding back tears.

“It’s not meaningless,” he says quietly, climbing back over to Liam, this time cupping his face. “But it can’t work. I don’t want to remember you as that one failed relationship with a pop star I once had.”

Liam nods, his fingers thumbing over Zayn’s hips as he sniffs back his tears. Zayn does the only thing he can think to do to stop himself from bursting into messy tears and smashes their mouths together.

Liam kisses back almost bitingly, fisting both his hands in Zayn’s hair and pressing him onto his back so he can hover over him. They kiss and they kiss, hands roaming everywhere, until Zayn’s mouth feels bruised and he’s hard against his belly. He can feel Liam gently starting to rut against his thighs so he breaks the kiss and fumbles around for the bottle of lube in the sheets.

“Fuck me.”

Liam nods, ducking down to kiss him again, slower this time. Zayn moans and ruts up, spreading his legs underneath Liam’s weight. Liam breaks off from his lips but starts kissing down his body and Zayn is so turned on he thinks he might come on the spot.

Liam fingers him open so slowly, spending time working his thick fingers over his sweet spot and scissoring him open until Zayn is literally trying to force his hand out with his own. Liam eventually relents, leaning over him to grab a condom before ducking down and kissing him hard again.

He rolls the condom on and guides his prick inside Zayn, pressing in slowly as Zayn’s back arches off the bed as it adapts to the intrusion. Liam presses in inch by inch, trailing his lips over Zayn’s sweaty skin before he’s hovering over him again.

Zayn’s eyes are wide as Liam bottoms out, his hips grinding in small circles to help Zayn get used to the stretch before he finally pulls out and thrusts back in again. Zayn tilts his head back and Liam kisses him again until he’s fucking him harder and he’s built up a steady rhythm, meaning all they’re really able to do is pant into each other’s mouths.

Zayn’s nails are leaving crescent moon shapes in the skin on Liam’s biceps as he clings on, his whole body jerking with the power of Liam’s thrusts. He cries out into Liam’s mouth when he finally hits that spot, fingers digging harder into Liam as he fights the urge to attend to his neglected prick.

Liam’s own hand comes down between their bodies to start jerking him and Zayn groans as the dry palm encases his sensitive length, a thumb swiping over the head clumsily to lubricate it as best he can. Zayn exhales sharply, chanting Liam’s name as he starts pumping him harder and harder.

He grabs Liam’s wrist from him, dragging it up to his mouth and licking it messily. Liam wraps it back around him, his eyes still locked with Zayn’s as he strokes him to his climax, moaning Liam’s name almost too loudly as he spills over his fingers.

Liam goes to pull out but Zayn practically whimpers a “no, keep going,” and Liam drives in harder, fucking Zayn until he comes a couple of minutes later. He goes to pull out but Zayn wraps his arms around his neck and pulls his sweaty body flush with his own, panting.

“There is nothing about that that was meaningless,” he whispers, kissing Liam’s forehead. “But we can’t keep going, you understand that, right?”

“Yeah,” Liam says softly. “Yeah, I know you’re right.”

They hold each other until Zayn starts squirming and then Liam pulls out carefully, leaving Zayn feeling empty and sadder than he’d care to admit. Liam steps off the bed to dispose of the condom and Zayn sits himself up, grabbing his boxers from down the side of the bed hurriedly.

He dresses while Liam’s cleaning himself up in the bathroom, stuffing his various belongings that have accumulated here over the week into his backpack.

“Oh,” he hears Liam say behind him and he whips round. Liam’s still naked, standing in the doorway to the ensuite looking like he’s about to cry again.

“It’ll be easier if I just go,” Zayn says in a rush, zipping up his backpack. “I don’t… I still need to pack my stuff in my room and, you know, the guys…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam mumbles, hurrying past him to grab some boxers of his own. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Um, here,” Zayn says, putting the Cartier box back on the bed. “I really cannot accept this.”

“Please keep it,” Liam says, eyes wide and pleading. “At least… something to remember me by, yeah?”

“No, Liam, I…”

“Just take it, please.”

Zayn hesitates but eventually nods, ducking his head as he slides the watch into his bag. Liam’s pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt and Zayn presses his lips together hard as he looks him up and down for presumably the last time.

“Can I kiss you goodbye?”

Liam’s head jerks up like he wasn’t expecting that at all. He nods hesitantly and steps towards him, thumbs stroking up and down his hips as their mouths meet for one final time.

Zayn grips the back of Liam’s neck tightly as he licks into his mouth, kissing him long and languid like he doesn’t want to stop. He kisses him until he just can’t anymore, until the burning in his lungs gets too much and he pulls away, willing himself not to cry.

“This is so dumb,” Liam chuckles wetly. “I’ve known you for nine days, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Zayn says mournfully, kissing him softly one more time, chasing his lips until they both straighten up and separate. “This has been one of the best weeks of my life, Li. I hope you know that.”

“Same,” Liam says, taking the hand that was lingering on Zayn’s waist and dropping it to his side. “Do you want me to call Preston for you?”

“Nah, I’ll, um, get a taxi or something. You’ve paid for more than enough,” Zayn titters nervously, waving his backpack. Liam nods, taking a step back.

“I’ll, um, I’ll see you when I see you then, I guess,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Zayn nods as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, murmuring his agreement.

He takes one last look at Liam before he hurries out of there, towards the lift and down into the foyer before he can think too much. He scrubs a hand harshly across his face to attempt to stall the threat of tears before hurrying out of there and towards a cab.

“Where to, mister?” the driver asks, accent thick.

“Kaos Hotel, please,” he sniffs back, not letting himself look back at the grand building behind him.

“Say, what you doing here if you staying in Kaos?” the driver asks as he turns out of the entrance and onto the main road.

“Visiting a, um, a friend,” Zayn mumbles, really not wanting to continue this conversation. He is absolutely not going to cry in front of a taxi driver.

“Rich friend,” the taxi driver comments, oblivious to Zayn’s strong desire not to have any kind of a conversation at all. “Lady friend, maybe?”

“Something like that,” Zayn replies bitterly, digging his hands into his eyes again. The driver looks at him in the rear view mirror and whistles.

“You look tired.”

“I am tired,” Zayn snaps, pressing his hands into his eyes harder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, mister, I understand. I know that look. Heartbreak,” the driver says sympathetically.

“I… yeah, something like that,” Zayn replies meekly, staring out the window and willing the car to drive quicker.

He gets back to his own hotel and trudges up to his room, unlocking his room and shuffling through the mess of clothes and suitcases.

“Zayn, my man!” Danny shouts as he emerges from the second bedroom, arms in the air excitedly. He drops them when he sees the look of misery on Zayn’s face as he flops down onto the bed he’s not slept in for three nights. “What the hell happened? I thought you’d be shagging this Liam guy’s brains out for your last night.”

“No,” Zayn mumbles, yanking the duvet over him. “Are you guys going out then?”

“Not before you tell me what’s happened,” Danny says concernedly, kneeling on the floor next to him. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Like physically?”

Zayn’s eyes go wide in horror. “What? No, fuck, no!”

“Then what the fuck happened? You literally look about five seconds off a crying fit.”

Zayn shuffles up, grabbing his backpack and unzipping it so he can dig around for the box. He tugs it out and pulls it open, almost laughing as Danny’s eyes go comically wide and his mouth drops open like a cartoon character.

“Zayn Malik, what the fuck are you doing with a fucking Cartier watch?”

“Liam gave it to me.”

“You been sleeping with a sugar daddy?” Danny gapes at him.

“Something like that,” Zayn groans, closing the box and putting it on the bedside table. “He gave me a fucking Cartier and then basically asked me if we wanted to carry on what we’re doing.”

“And you said no to someone who bought you a fucking expensive as shit watch after ten days of fucking?” Danny asks incredulously. “What the fuck, Zayn? More importantly, who the fuck?”

“It wouldn’t work,” Zayn insists, yanking the duvet over his head again. “We would never work out.”

“Are they married?”

“No, wha… who do you think I am?” Zayn snaps.

Danny holds up his hands in defence. “Just had to ask, bro. I ain’t gonna judge you, whoever it is. I kinda wanna be sleeping with him too, to be honest.”

Zayn sighs. “Okay, but you absolutely have to promise to keep this to yourself, like, forever.”

“Swear on my life.”

“Okay, you remember the boyband we saw in the airport? One Direction?”

Danny whistles proudly. “You shagging a rich boybander? Hell yeah, bro!”

Zayn chuckles weakly, nodding against his pillow. “Liam from One Direction.”

“Well I’ll be fucked,” Danny says disbelievingly. “Bloody well done, for a start!”

“More like bloody well done for fucking falling for him, Zayn you twat,” Zayn huffs, rolling over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I had to get out of there, Dan. I can’t be with him so I needed to get out of there.”

“Woah, why, bro?” Danny asks, furrowing his brows. “Sounds like you’ve both got it bad for each other.”

“Because I’m not going to be some pop star’s dirty little secret,” Zayn spits, hiding his face in his hands to will himself not to cry. “He’s not out, he’s going to travel the world while I’m at uni and it just… it just wouldn’t, okay?”

“Zayn…”

“Can we not?” Zayn begs, not looking at him. “Can we just accept I’ve made my decision about someone I’ve known for nine fucking days and drop it, okay?”

Danny hesitates but drops it. “Okay. Whatever you think will make you happy, bro. You coming out with us tonight?”

“Probably not,” Zayn croaks. “I kind of want to wallow and not watch you snog Sophia’s brains out for your last night.”

Danny grins sheepishly. “Yeah, about that. We’re, er, we’re gonna give it a go when we get out of here.”

“You too?” Zayn shrills, making a growling sound in the back of his throat. “What the fuck is this place? Soulmate fucking city?”

“Apparently,” Danny says, smiling at Zayn sadly. “Look, Zayn, I just… she only lives forty five minutes away. And, like, she’s just bloody brilliant and I…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m really happy for you,” Zayn grumbles. “Just don’t come crying to me when everyone at uni wants to sleep with you and you can’t.”

“Fuck off,” Danny scoffs, punching him playfully on the shoulder. “There’s no harm in trying it anyway. We’ll see what happens.”

“Lucky prick,” Zayn mumbles. “Where’s Ant?”

“Probably with Leigh,” Danny shrugs. “Said he’d meet me here at tenish, what time is it now?”

Zayn fumbles for his phone. “Quarter to. Are you sure you don’t wanna come out with us? It’s our last night of our lad’s holiday!”

“Have you and Sophia got plans?”

“Nothing I can’t cancel for my best boy,” Danny says, waggling his eyebrows. Zayn finally gives him a small smile.

“I still think I’m good, yeah? I just want to sleep, if that’s okay.”

“Whatever you want, bro,” Danny says. “Normally I’d kick your arse out of bed and tell you to grow a pair but I’ve never seen you look this fucking sad before. Do you want us to hang around?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Nah, you go. Have a sick night, make good choices, try to be quiet if you bring them back for a shag.”

Danny gives him a wide grin. “Sound advice, Malik. If you need anything, give us a ring, yeah?”

“Will do,” Zayn says, rolling over and closing his eyes.

It’s only when he hears Danny leave the hotel room does he finally let himself have a cry.

*

Liam has never had his heart broken before but he’s pretty sure that that’s what just happened.

Because he’s just let Zayn – one of the few people he’s properly spoken to and connected with and let in over the past three years – walk the fuck away from him. And now Liam has no idea what the fuck to do.

Because he knows everything Zayn said was a fair argument for why they couldn’t – and shouldn’t – be together. He knows if he ever broke Zayn’s heart he’d never forgive himself. But this boy, this bright, beautiful, fun, wonderful boy who gave Liam so much in the nine days they spent together has gone and made it clear that he doesn’t want to take what Liam was offering, so Liam doesn’t have much of a choice but to let him go.

Liam’s never been much of a crier, is the thing. Even when he lost his granddad on tour and wasn’t able to go home for the funeral he’d only cried for a few minutes just to get it out of his system. But now he lets tears fall, tears of frustration and upset and just the fact that there were times this week where he was almost convinced he’d found someone who’d want to be with him despite the shitty situation he finds his personal life in.

He flops onto his unmade bed and cries miserably into his hands, unsure of what the fuck to do or where the fuck he can go from here. What’s worse is he feels like he’s overreacting – he’s known Zayn nine days yet he feels like he’s genuinely lost someone from his inner circle, someone who he had a connection with that he hasn’t felt before. He’s never fallen this deep before; never had the opportunity to, really, but now he’s convinced he shouldn’t have let it go this easily.

“Liam? You in there?”

The sound of Louis’ concerned voice snaps him out of his funk and he looks up. He isn’t sure if he really wants to be held by anyone that isn’t Zayn right now, if he’s being honest with himself.

“Liam, open up!”

He sniffs, wipes his eyes with the collar of his t-shirt and steps towards the door, twisting the knob slowly.

“Oh, Li,” Louis says softly, biting his lip when he sees Liam’s red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. “Oh, fuck.”

“He’s gone,” Liam croaks, letting Louis lead him over to the bed. “He’s gone and he didn’t want to continue it.”

“Babe,” Louis says, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulders. “Why are you crying? You don’t cry.”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Louis!” Liam cries exasperatedly. “He’s not… we weren’t together or anything, I don’t…”

“Liam, it’s okay,” Louis coaxes, stroking over Liam’s stubbly head. “I know he meant a lot to you.”

“I could have loved him,” Liam whispers after a pause. Louis’ hand stills but Liam barrels on. “I wasn’t quite there but I could have. Give me another couple of weeks and it would have been a sure thing.”

“Liam,” Louis says, sitting up and cupping his face. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“It’s not fair,” Liam spits, trying to pull out of Louis’ hands. “He was so reasonable about it too. I feel like such an idiot for thinking he’d want to continue this.”

“What did he say?” Louis asks carefully.

“That it wouldn’t be fair for me to keep him a secret, that it isn’t fair to expect me to come out for him, that we both knew what we were signing up for and it’s easier if we just keep it that way because he wants to remember how good it was.”

“Which is fair,” Louis says slowly. “Look, Li, I know it’s been hard for you, like, hiding and shit but I’m glad you didn’t just hand your heart to the first boy you felt you had a real connection with.”

“You did,” Liam whimpers petulantly.

Louis sighs. “Yes, I did, but Harry and I took a fucking big risk in doing so. We could easily have fucked up the band if we didn’t work out, you know?”

“But…”

“And that’s why we’re not coming out,” Louis continues, gripping Liam’s face tighter. “Because we don’t want to risk fucking it up for you two guys, not to mention for half the bloody world if they can’t hang on to the pipe dream that one day Harry Styles will fall hopelessly in love with them.” He grins, thumbing away a stray tear.

“Why would it fuck it up, Louis? Why does us being gay mean so much shit for our personal lives?” Liam spits, tears falling freely now.

“It’s not fair, babe,” Louis says, mopping Liam’s tears with his sleeve cuff. “It’s not fait but you can’t spend your life moping about this. Spend tonight moping, yes, but I know you, Liam Payne, and you can’t let this bring you down. Think about how amazing it’ll be to tour an entire fucking continent with your three best mates while we sing to the fucking world again.”

“You say that like that hasn’t been my life for the last three years with you,” Liam croaks, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder. “But I know. I do know. It’s just gonna be a little raw for a few days.”

“And really shit, I know, babe,” Louis says, kissing the top of his head. “Do you want to come play some FIFA with Haz and Ni?”

“Nah, I’m alright, I think,” Liam says, kissing him back. “I just want to be alone really.”

“Is it wise to be alone in a bed that probably still smells like Zayn?”

“Louis.”

“Sorry,” Louis shrugs, his fingers dancing across Liam’s scalp. “We love you a whole fucking lot Li. If you need us, you know where we are, yeah?”

“You too,” Liam murmurs, pulling out of Louis’ arms. “I’m just gonna shower and sleep for a bit, yeah? But thanks for coming to check on me and all.”

“You know I always will,” Louis says, giving him a slight wave before he wanders back down the hall.

Liam closes the door behind him, scrubbing a hand across his face as he pads back to the bed. He falls on his back into the sheets, ignoring the fact that the smell of Zayn is lingering there more than he thought it would. He blames Louis for pointing it out.

He mopes for a few more minutes before he pads out onto the balcony, grabbing his packet of cigarettes from the coffee table on the way. He opens the packet and puts one between his lips, reaching for the lighter on the table.

He realises with a jolt that the lighter is in fact Zayn’s, a brushed silver Zippo with his family name carved into the side. His hands are shaking as he lights his fag, inhaling the sharp smoke tight into his lungs. Fuck.

He thinks back to when Zayn must have left it out here, their first night together when Zayn had dropped the lighter on the table to drag him back inside so they could eat, ordering dinner and curling up together while they ate dinner. It was recreating a scene he’d seen himself on countless occasions, Louis settling between the V of Harry’s legs while they shared a plate of something, pouting adorably whenever the other would take the biggest slice of the pizza or gently thumbing any excess from corners of mouths.

And after the food had settled in their bellies Zayn had taken Liam to bed again, blanketing Liam’s entire body with his own and sliding in and out of him for what felt like hours. He already doesn’t know what to do with himself now he doesn’t have Zayn to do that with.

He smokes an entire pack of Zayn’s forgotten cigarettes before he can get his hands stop shaking.

Day eleven

Zayn gets home and goes straight to bed.

Day twenty-five

It’s been two weeks since he came from his holiday and Zayn is bloody miserable.

He was so convinced that leaving Ayia Napa and therefore leaving Liam would snap him out of his funk but it really hasn’t. If anything, he can’t stop pining and he hates himself for it because this is his fault, his decision and therefore his cross to bear.

And the thing is, Liam’s probably moved on already. He’s off around the whole of Europe with his best friends, having the time of his life while beautiful people throw themselves at his feet on a daily basis so he’d be stupid to still want him because he has so much choice out there, people who will want him back.

The other problem is, of course, that Liam is bloody everywhere.

He’s on the front of every single product in Tesco, on posters and billboards, on music channels and starring in adverts. His stupid sincere face with his stupid brown eyes and stupid dopey smile and the birthmark that Zayn has sunk his teeth into are everywhere he fucking looks.

The rational part of his mind tells him he’s being a stupid arse – it was always just a holiday fling, wasn’t it? It was always just going to be a fling and normal people don’t spend this much time pining and feeling like shit over someone they barely know. But Liam’s there, there’s always there, like an unscratchable itch deep under Zayn’s skin and it’s becoming more and more unbearable as the days go on.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, my arse, Zayn thinks bitterly to himself on the walk to work one morning. If anything, this time apart is just making him angry – angry at himself for walking away and for making Liam think for a split second that it was meaningless, but also he’s angry at Liam for having a job that stops them being together, angry at Liam for touring the world and leaving him behind to fester in shitty little England but mostly he’s angry at Liam for taking no for an answer.

He wears his stupid watch every single day because as much as he wants to tuck it far away along with his other memories of Liam, it’s the nicest present anyone has ever nought for him and he’s so touched that Liam saw something that beautiful and delicate and thought of him. He feels like he’s in some kind of grieving period the way he’s attached to it, like it’s okay to torture himself a little longer because he needs it to tell the time, after all, and so what if that makes him think of Liam?

Danny and Ant try to distract him as best they can, taking on shifts with him so he doesn’t have time for his mind to wander and taking him out in the evenings and trying to introduce him to new people for when they go to visit Leigh or Sophia.

He gets a stupid tattoo of a bird on his hand because Liam had a feather on his arm and he wants to match that for some stupid reason he can’t put his finger on. He remembers them joking about it one night, watching some show about idiot teens who get regrettable tattoos on their drunken holidays, getting matching tattoos or the names of people they’ve only known a few hours. He’s now one of those people and he simultaneously loves and hates it.

It’s one night a week before he’s due to move to university when it really hits him hard.

He’s sat with his sisters flicking through the TV channels when his mum sticks her head through to the living room.

“Will you stick it onto BBC Three, Zayn love? I want to watch the Eastenders repeat.”

Zayn nods, clicking the channels over. The credits for some documentary roll and then the sixty second celebrity news between programmes launches.

“Hello, I’m Tina Daheley and I’m here with your sixty second celeb update. Our top story tonight, is boybander Liam Payne finally off the market?”

Zayn’s entire body goes cold.

“The One Direction heartthrob was seen leaving a café in Stockholm with backing dancer Danielle Peazer and they looked pretty damn cosy together as they were papped walking down through the city centre before heading for a romantic lunch. Are girls’ hearts worldwide about to be broken?”

Zayn tears himself off the sofa and thunders upstairs, already about ten seconds from a breakdown. He scrunches his eyes closed as he flops onto his bed but all he can see are the pictures of him, him in that stupid black vest and that stupid snapback with his arm around that beautiful girl’s waist.

There’s a tentative knock at his door and Doniya sticks her head round, her face bearing a confused expression.

“What was with you just then?” she asks, leaning against the doorway.

“Leave me alone.”

“Zayn, you looked like a child who’d just had its favourite teddy bear taken away from it. Since when did you give a fuck about One Direction anyway?”

“I don’t,” Zayn snaps, rolling over to bury his head in the pillow. “I couldn’t give any less of a fuck, to be honest.”

“Bullshit,” Doniya huffs. “You’re about to cry, I can hear it in your voice.”

“Just fucking drop it, Doniya,” Zayn growls.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby brother,” Doniya coos, sounding half sarcastic but half genuinely concerned. “Are you harbouring a secret crush on him in the hope that’s he’s gay, is that it?”

“Leave it,” Zayn warns.

“Did someone called Liam break your heart?” She gasps. “Did they leave you for a girl?”

“Evi-fucking-dently!” Zayn yells, his dam suddenly breaking. “He told me he was fucking gay and there he is on the TV with some fucking beautiful girl who he’s going to be so happy with and I’m left here like a fucking mug.”

Doniya just stares.

“And the worst fucking part is that could have been me with him but I told him I didn’t want that so I’m left here in shitty Bradford being fucking miserable while he goes off with her. But I told him I didn’t want it so it’s my fault.”

“Are you… are you talking about actual Liam from actual One Direction?”

“Yes, I fucking am,” Zayn snarls, tugging at his hair. “I’m so fucking gone for him and the stupid, selfish part of my head thought he’d hold on to me but clearly he’s moved the fuck on so isn’t that wonderful?” Tears are pouring down his cheeks now, his walls breaking as he voices every built-up worry he’s been holding in for the last two weeks.

Doniya slides over to him and lets him cry into her chest, stroking up and down his back and shushing him gently as he gulps for air.

“First of all, what the fuck?” she asks softly, gently brushing his fringe out of his face. “You’re in love with actual Liam from actual One Direction?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I’m in love with him,” Zayn hiccups. “Can you be in love with someone after nine days?”

“Maybe not,” Doniya murmurs, “but he clearly means a lot to you if you’re still hung up on him. I take it he was your holiday fling?”

“How do you know I had a holiday fling?”

“You came home with a lovebite the size of my fist on your neck,” Doniya points out. “And also you’ve had a right hump on since then. Me and Mum thought it would pass in a week, figured you were just nervous about starting uni or whatever but, fuck, Zayn, I didn’t think you’d go on holiday to Ayia fucking Napa of all places and fall in love with a pop star.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Zayn says weakly.

“Bullshit,” Doniya snaps. “Look at you.”

“Either way, he’s got someone else now.”

“Yeah, that is kind of shitty of him,” Doniya says. “But maybe it’s what you need. If he’s moved on maybe you can too?”

“I suppose,” Zayn grumbles. “It’s easier said than done when he’s fucking everywhere, can I just say? Who knew he was that bloody big?”

“Spare me,” Doniya giggles and Zayn groans, playfully shoving her away.

He ends up spending the rest of the night curled up with his big sister, telling her the whole story of start to finish. She’s incredibly supportive of the whole thing, pretending to cover her ears when Zayn mentions some of the times they shagged and agreeing that Zayn did what was best, given the situation. He feels so much lighter now he’s gone and told someone, especially someone like Doniya who has always prided herself in being able to tell Zayn when he’s being a fucking idiot.

Doniya eventually gets up and goes to bed, leaving a smacking kiss on his forehead and the reassurance that there will be plenty more fish in the sea when he finally goes to uni.

He has to use even more extreme self-control than usual not to google Liam Payne before he goes to bed and torture himself some more, but that’s not really anything new.

Day twenty-six

It’s Liam’s birthday today. Zayn doesn’t know why that makes today worse, but it does.

He doesn’t text him.

Day thirty-two

It’s been four and a half weeks since he met Liam Payne, three weeks since he left him and now Zayn is finally moving to university.

His mum and Doniya drive down the four hours to London with him, waiting patiently while he collects his keys to his flat and helping him move his boxes rammed full of everything he owns into his new bedroom.

It’s hard work but they finally get it done and once it’s all crammed into his flat (thankfully bottom floor, he fucking hates stairs), he bids his family a reluctant farewell for their long drive back up to Yorkshire. He surveys his new room for a few minutes before he starts unpacking, finding his docking station first and plugging in his iPod before sitting at his new desk to fill in his itinerary sheet.

There’s a knock on his door a few minutes later and he pauses his music before he pads open to answer the door. He’s met with the sight of a shortish blonde girl with big eyes and a bright purple smile.

“Hello, love!” she chirps merrily. “I’m Perrie, I’m in the room next to you.”

“I’m Zayn,” he smiles, extending his hand for her to shake. “How long have you been here?”

“About an hour?” she muses, Geordie accent thick. “I think we’re the only two so far as well. If you fancy I’m just making a cuppa, want to postpone packing and all that.”

“That’d be great,” Zayn grins, following her into their shared kitchen.

Over the course of the day, Zayn meets the rest of his flatmates – a ginger lad called Ed, two more bright and bubbly girls called Jesy and Jade, a nervous younger looking kid called Aiden and two foreign exchange students who disappear to their rooms instead of making conversation. They make plans to spend their first night of freshers as a group and eventually all mutually agree to disappear into their rooms to finish unpacking.

Zayn unpacks quickly, making up his bed and neatly folding all his clothes into his wardrobe while Usher croons in the background. He’s just carrying his toiletries down the hallway to put them in the shared bathroom when Perrie’s door opens and her smiling face sticks out.

“Zayn, pet, me and the girls are doing some shots, you fancy one?”

“Always,” Zayn replies, quickly dropping off his stuff and following her into her room, where he’s met with the sight of…

Row after row after row of One Direction posters.

His mouth drops open and he tenses, Liam’s face boring into him from all sides.

“Are you judging my posters, Zayn?” Perrie asks, hands on her hips. “And here I thought we could be friends.”

“I, er, well, I’m not judging, per se,” Zayn stammers, fingers suddenly itching for a cigarette. “Everyone loves a bit of pop music, don’t they?”

“I’m so in love with Niall Horan,” Perrie swoons, staring at one of her posters of him. Jesy and Jade giggle, Perrie tutting at them as she reaches for a shot. “Can’t wait to make him my husband when I see him at Wembley in, like, four weeks!”

“Who’s your favourite?” Jade asks through her laughter. “Personally I think Liam’s the fittest.”

Zayn snatches the shot from Perrie and necks it down.

“Aw, is Zayn too manly to admit to finding another man attractive?” Perrie teases playfully, pinching his cheek. Zayn chokes a little bit on the burn in his throat and shakes his head.

“What? No!”

“Whatever, love,” she says with an eye roll. “You look like you need another shot or six.”

“Please,” Zayn chokes out, necking the vodka down welcomingly.

Six shots later he’s swaying around the kitchen with Perrie under his arm as the rest of the girls dance to the Spice Girls. Perrie rests her hand on his chest and looks up at him.

“I’m sorry if I offended you earlier,” she murmurs. Zayn looks down at her, confused.

“Offended me when?”

“When we were talking about One Direction,” she says, looking up at him. “You looked, like, really upset when I was teasing you for finding Liam attractive, so yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Oh god, it’s… it’s fine,” Zayn sighs. “It’s, right, it’s another story for another day, okay?”

Perrie furrows her eyebrows but nods and Zayn is so, so grateful she lets it drop.

The six of them end up joining up with the flat above them and the group of them stumble to a nightclub. Zayn is at the right level of drunk that he’s drunk enough to dance but not drunk enough to be stumbling all over the place and he lets the girls drag him onto the dancefloor.

It’s only when the DJ switches the beat to something slower and Perrie winds her arms around his neck, shaking her hips slowly that Zayn realises what’s happening.

“Perrie,” he says slowly. She smiles, tilting her head and leaning in for what he assumes is a kiss and he has to step back gently. “Perrie, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” she smiles, ducking her head for another kiss.

“Perrie,” he says again, sliding his hands down her arms to tug her off him gently. “I’m not, I don’t…”

“You don’t wanna?” Perrie pouts, looking confused more than upset.

“I don’t… I don’t like girls,” he murmurs, cringing as he says it because he knows that always sounds like a lame excuse.

Instead of being annoyed, she just throws her arms around his neck again. “I knew it!”

Zayn hugs back, though he’s confused as anything. “You knew?”

“Well, obviously I didn’t know,” Perrie says, taking his hand and leading him off to a quieter booth. “But I just thought I’d try, you know? See whether it was worth me letting myself fancy you or not.”

Zayn stares.

“But this is so much better!” Perrie squeals, clapping her hands gleefully. “Means I can still hold out for my Niall and I get the gay best friend I’ve always wanted.”

Zayn has to laugh at that, resting his head on her shoulder. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Understanding what?” Perrie snorts, looking at him. “That chasing after you would have been futile?”

“Something like that,” Zayn murmurs.

“Oh, smile, love,” Perrie coaxes, knocking his chin up. “You turned me down, I should be the mopey one.”

“’m not mopey,” Zayn pouts and Perrie laughs. “Let’s dance again, yeah?”

Perrie winks and drags him back onto the dancefloor, wrapping one arm around his waist to meet the rest of the group.

Zayn goes to sleep that night incredibly grateful that there are people like Perrie in the world.

Day thirty-nine

“You should go! It’ll be good for you!”

Zayn purses his lips, glaring at Perrie from over the rim of his mug, who glares back.

“You need to expand your horizons, babe!” she snaps, throwing a piece of raw pasta from their already-filthy kitchen counter at him. “Just go!”

“But it’s the last night of our freshers week,” Zayn argues. “I wanna come out with you guys.”

“No, you need to get laid,” Perrie tells him. “Even Aiden’s gotten laid this week. Go and meet people who might shag you.”

“I told you, I don’t need a shag…”

“You fucking do,” Perrie snaps, throwing another piece of pasta. “Believe me, Zayn, you might think you’re fooling people but you’re not fooling me.” She flops into a chair. “I broke up with someone before uni too, you know.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn splutters. “I haven’t, I mean, I wasn’t…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Perrie shakes her head. “I know heartbreak when I see it, you twat.”

Zayn fishmouths at her, not sure what the fuck else to do because not even Doniya picked up on it for a good few weeks.

“And I’ll get it out of you one day soon, Zayn Malik,” she continues, pointing an accusing finger at him. “But until then you clearly need to shag this guy out of your system and the easiest way for you to do that is going on this LGBT night out.”

Zayn sighs. He was convinced he was getting better, convinced that with the distractions of meeting new people and going to introduction talks that he was thinking about Liam less and therefore moping less but apparently Perrie can read him like a fucking book.

“I don’t want to nag,” Perrie says, her voice softening. “But you need this. I needed it and it feels good, you know?”

“What happened with you?” Zayn asks slowly, softly, not wanting to overstep a line.

“Oh, you know,” Perrie says, waving a hand like she’s trying to wave the whole thing off. “He was my first love and he’s still in Newcastle. We didn’t want to have to deal with the distance so we broke it off. Nothing grand or anything.”

“Oh, babes, I’m so sorry,” Zayn says, reaching for her hand.

“It’s fine,” Perrie says, waving her hand again. “I’ll get there. And so will you,” she reassures, squeezing his fingers. “Now go and get dolled up.”

So that’s how Zayn finds himself with Aiden and a bunch of other people he doesn’t know in a different bar with a group of new people. They’re all lovely so far but he still feels out of place, like they all know he doesn’t really want to be here.

He solves his problem by drinking lots, taking shot after shot with Aiden and letting some of the prettier boys buy him a drink as he gets steadily drunker. He loosens up enough to let some guy lead him onto the dancefloor, grinding his arse into his crotch as the steady thrum of the bass beats through him.

“You’re really fit,” the bloke whispers in his ear. “What’s your name, babe?”

“Zayn,” Zayn says, trying not to cringe at the words coming from the mouth of someone who isn’t Liam. “What’s yours?”

“David,” the bloke says, and this time Zayn does properly cringe because it’s definitely not Liam. “Can I kiss you?”

“Er, yeah,” Zayn says before he can second-guess himself. He turns in David’s arms and presses their lips together.

Zayn’s drunk enough to kiss him filthily, hard and biting as David’s fingers dig into his hips. They kiss for a long time, alcohol and lust coursing through Zayn’s veins as David continues to grind against him to the beat of the song.

Two hours later, Zayn is smashed and has loosened up nicely, hanging off David’s neck and kissing him at any given opportunity. He’s half hard in his skinnies and he’s getting more and more agitated as David keeps grinding his crotch into his bum, one hand dropping to palm Zayn’s bulge.

“Back to mine?” he breathes into Zayn’s ear and Zayn nods hurriedly, letting David tug him out of the club and towards a taxi.

David also lives on campus and Zayn ends up getting snogged up against the door of an accommodation block just a few away from his own. He kisses back, hanging across David’s neck as he rummages around for his door fob before leading him into the lift up to his own flat.

“Wanna blow you,” David says huskily as he presses Zayn up against his flat door. He sucks a lovebite into the weak spot on Zayn’s neck and he keens, gripping David’s forearms. David leads him down to his room and they kiss again, hard, before David is grinning and dropping to his knees.

He unbuckles Zayn’s jeans and slides the zip down, snapping his boxers down to free his erection before taking half of him in his mouth, sloppy and clumsy with drunken finesse.

Zayn supports himself with a hand against the wall and groans as David’s mouth takes him even further down. He’s drunker than he thought he was, swaying awkwardly as he fists one hand in the back of David’s hair.

David stares up at him with wide, brown eyes and Zayn’s mind flashes to Liam for the first time that night. He jolts as he remembers Liam’s own tight, wet heat around him and David gags with it, pulling off with a glare.

“Sorry,” Zayn mumbles, standing himself up again and smoothing David’s hair down in what he hopes is a comforting way. David opens his mouth again and takes him back in, slurping him down and staring up at him again.

When Zayn comes, it’s with Liam’s name on his lips and not David’s. David pulls off and looks really annoyed, snapping Zayn’s boxers back up almost aggressively. “It’s David.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mumbles again, stumbling again as he goes to pull his trousers up. “Want me to do you?”

“Do you want to do me?” David scowls, wiping his mouth with his hand. “Or do you want to do Leeyum?”

“I, er…” Zayn stammers, too drunk for this. David snorts, standing up and yanking his door open.

“Wow, Zayn, wow,” he scoffs. “I thought you liked me.”

“I did like you,” Zayn hiccups.

“Did?” David asks with raised eyebrows.

“But then you looked like Leeyum,” Zayn slurs miserably, slumping his shoulders.

David scoffs. “Look, I know we’re both a bit drunk, mate, but I don’t think you can really bounce this back right now.” He gestures to the door and Zayn trails out miserably.

He stumbles down the stairs, fishing in his pocket for his phone because he needs Liam, he’s not drunk enough to get through this without Liam and he’s had enough of not having Liam so he pulls up the phone number he’s ignored for weeks on end.

It goes straight to voicemail and Zayn chokes on a sob, flopping himself down on the patch of grass outside the building. He thinks about hanging up but then the beep tone sounds for him to leave a message and his dam collapses.

“Fuck you, Liam Payne,” he spits down the phone. “Fuck you so much. I can’t… you’re so fucking… you’ve made my life so fucking hard, you fuck! I can’t stop thinking about you and I even pulled and I couldn’t stop thinking about you then! And he kicked me out because I said your name because I needed to pretend it was you! You! You fucking own me and I miss you so fucking much and I don’t know why the fuck I’m calling you when we both know where this stands.”

He laughs bitterly. “I miss you and I wear your stupid watch every day and I think about you all the fucking time, even when I’m with other boys because nothing is you anymore! But everything is you! Your fucking face is on everything and my flatmate is obsessed with you.” He groans. “I cannot catch a fucking break. And the worst part is you’ve found someone new and I don’t hold up to her at all because she’s a girl!” He laughs shrilly. “A girl who you can love and kiss and go out with in front of the world while I stay at home and fucking pine like some pathetic twat.”

He huffs a laugh, falling onto his back while tears spill down his face. “I don’t know why the fuck I’m even calling you. It’s costing me a fucking fortune and I don’t know if you’re even worth it.” He sniffs pathetically. “Bye, Liam.”

He drops his phone onto the ground next to him and cries into his hands for god knows how long until he feels a hand wrap around his wrist.

“Love?” Perrie’s wonderfully familiar voice says gently from somewhere above him. “Zayn, love, sit up for me.”

Zayn struggles but eventually sits up, resting his head on her shoulder so he can cry into her dressing gown. She doesn’t say anything, just cards a hand through his hair and holds him close, glaring aggressively as returning drunkards yell catcalls and insults at them.

“Zayn, babe,” she says slowly after Zayn’s sobs subside to just pathetic sniffles. “Let’s get you into our flat, yeah?”

Zayn nods weakly, feeling more sober now he’s had a cry but still leaning on her to steady himself as she curls her arm around him and leads him towards their building. She digs around in her dressing gown pocket for her keys and yanks them out, unlocking the door and bringing him into the kitchen.

“I was in here making a brew anyway when I saw yous outside,” she says, flicking the kettle on. “Do you want one?”

“Coffee,” Zayn croaks weakly. “Please.”

“Sure, sure,” she says, bustling round the kitchen and filling two mugs with milk and sugars. Once she’s set them down on the kitchen table she turns to him properly, mopping at the last of his tears with her dressing gown sleeve.

“I don’t… you don’t need to feel obliged to tell me what’s wrong or anythin’ but you’re obviously hurtin’ bad,” Perrie says slowly after a pause. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, like if you’re crying because you’re drunk or if it runs deeper, you know?”

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a while. Perrie waits patiently, nursing her mug of tea until he says “I fucked up, Pez.”

“Fucked up how, sweetheart?” she asks kindly.

“I think… I think I’m in love with someone,” he says, testing the words on his tongue. “And I told him that I didn’t want to be with him and now he’s found someone else, but I can’t stop loving him, I…” He pauses, willing himself not to burst into tears again.

“How do you know, love?” Perrie asks gently. “Is he in a new relationship on facebook or something?”

Zayn laughs bitterly. “If only it was that simple.”

“How do you mean? I’m confused.”

Zayn gives her a sad smile. “You’re going to fucking kill me if I tell you. It’s just… I’m really not supposed to tell anyone but I feel like I need to tell someone here, I don’t…” He trails off.

“Zayn, love, anything you tell me I promise I will keep to myself, yeah? As long as it’s not Niall Horan you’ve been shagging I don’t think I’ll kill you.” She goes for light-hearted but then her eyes go wide. “Oh my god, you’re actually in love with Niall, aren’t you?”

“Not quite,” Zayn says with a small laugh. “Try Liam instead.”

Perrie doesn’t say anything, just lets her eyes go comically wide. “You’re… you know… you’ve… I… Liam Payne… what?!”

Zayn nods sadly. “I met Liam on holiday in Napa this summer and we started, well, it was just sex to begin with.” He laughs bitterly again. “He asked if I wanted to carry it on, I said no and I’ve regretted every single fucking second since.”

“Well, I don’t fucking blame you!” Perrie shrieks, swatting at his arm. “You let go a member of One Direction, you arse!”

“Pez, please,” Zayn groans into his hands, “don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

Perrie’s near hyperventilating. “And he loved you back? HE LOVED YOU BACK?”

“Perrie, can you please just focus for a fucking second?” Zayn whines, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Can you just tell me what the fuck I’m going to do?”

Perrie ignores him, slapping his arm hard. “You mean… you mean it’s you?”

“What’s me?” Zayn asks, frustrated.

“Oh my god, Zayn, do you not know?”

“Is this the reaction of someone in the know?”

Perrie sighs exasperatedly, yanking her phone out of her pocket. “Do you go on social media ever?”

“Not really,” Zayn admits. “Facebook sometimes, why?”

“His twitter feed these past few weeks! He’s been tweeting such cryptic things, proper sad things and there’s been so much speculation on twitter and tumblr, but it’s about you!”

“I’m still not following,” Zayn sighs.

“Evidentally,” Perrie snaps, unlocking her phone and opening the twitter app. “Right, Real_Liam_Payne.” She types it out and scrolls through, murmuring under her breath. “Here!”

Can’t be without you

Zayn feels like his throat has closed up.

“And then the day before he tweeted this!” Perrie says, scrolling down and thrusting the phone back in his face.

Worse thing I ever did was let you go

“He never could fucking spell,” Zayn mutters almost fondly under his breath, fresh tears threatening to spill. He wipes them away hurriedly. “But that doesn’t matter, Per! He’s got someone else anyway!”

“What, that dancer he was spotted with a few weeks ago? Danielle?” Perrie scoffs as Zayn nods, waving her manicured hand behind her. “They’re not together, are they fuck!”

“WHAT?”

Perrie rolls her eyes. “They’re childhood friends, Zayn. They get papped together all the time because she dances with them but they’ve known each other for years. A new romance story about the two of them comes out every month or so but she’s got a boyfriend and evidentially he doesn’t swing her way.”

“But he had his arm around her waist,” Zayn says dumbly. “The pictures I saw a few weeks ago he was proper cuddling her.”

Perrie opens Safari and types something into the searchbar. A few seconds later, the phone is thrust under his nose again. “Look! She broke up with her boyfriend, it’s on the Daily Mail. He probably just took her out to make her feel better.”

“Oh my god,” Zayn says wetly, suddenly feeling like the world’s biggest twat. “Oh my god, I definitely fucked up.”

“Why now, babe? And explain to me why you told him you couldn’t be with him in the first place anyway, please, because I’m really struggling with the concept of turning down a member of One Direction, you absolute tosser.”

“I, um,” Zayn laughs because he doesn’t know what else to do. “We met on holiday and we started sleeping together, yeah? And I really liked him then but he’s not out and he can’t be out so I didn’t want to be his little secret. Still don’t really, but I’m starting to warm to the idea because I just miss him so goddamn much.”

“I would say that’s fair enough but I’d give anything to be Niall’s dirty little secret,” Perrie giggles. “So you’ve not spoken since?”

“I didn’t want to text him because we aimed for a nice, clean break, you know?”

“Yet I’m sensing it was him you were yelling at down the phone for a good five minutes out there?”

“Oh, fuck,” Zayn groans, scrubbing angrily at his face. “I pulled, Pez, I pulled and I said Liam’s name instead of the bloke’s.”

Perrie chokes out some kind of hysterical laughter, covering her mouth with her hands as she cackles. “You did what?!”

“He lives like four buildings down too, I’m going to see him all year! God, I’m such a fuck up!” he groans, slamming his head onto the table.

“You said the wrong name, that’s class!” Perrie screeches, tears of laughter running down her face. “Oh, Zayn, love.”

“What do I do, Pez?” he groans, bright red with embarrassment. “What the fuck do I do?”

“I guess you wait, babe,” she says, wiping her tears on her sleeve. “See how he reacts to the voicemail and go from there. And maybe try and avoid this bloke for the rest of your life.”

“Oh lord,” Zayn groans, resting his head on her shoulder. “Jesus, I’m so embarrassed. That’s never happened before, I swear.”

“You’ll be alright, Zayn,” Perrie reassures, tapping his cheek lightly. “If it’s meant to be it’ll fall into place. Liam’s back in England soon anyway, you know.”

Zayn stills.

“Yeah, I’m seeing them at Wembley in, like, twenty days, not that I’m counting or anything,” she says with a yawn. “Maybe he’ll ask to see you when you’re both here, who knows?”

“Oh,” is all Zayn says. Perrie kisses his cheek.

“Come on, we should probably get you to bed. You look fucking shattered and I definitely am. We can do some more soul searching in the morning.”

“Thanks, Pez,” Zayn croaks, standing up and opening his arms for a proper hug. “You’re a proper pal, you are.”

“I know,” Perrie smiles, squeezing him back. “In fact, I think I deserve a present for all this hard work. How about Niall’s phone number?”

Zayn laughs into her neck. “I don’t actually have it, I’m afraid. But if Liam ever wants to talk to me again then I’ll see what I can do.”

“Love you,” Perrie says, squeezing him quickly before pulling away. “Sleep well. Don’t mope too hard.”

“I’ll try,” Zayn drawls, unlocking his own room.

He doesn’t realise how exhausted he actually is until he gets inside, barely shucking his leather jacket and shoes before he collapses on his bed and falls fast asleep.

Day forty

Of all the things Liam was expecting to wake up to, a hysterical drunken voicemail from Zayn was not one of them.

He blinks at his phone a few times to make sure he’s reading the name flashing across the screen right before unlocking it and pressing on his voicemail, shakily holding his phone to his ear.

His heart breaks as he hears Zayn’s drunken slurs, his harsh yet sad words that convey everything Liam’s also felt for the last month pouring down the receiver. When it’s finished he plays it again, mainly just to hear Zayn’s voice for the first time in forever.

Before he can think too much, he opens up his text conversation with him because if there’s even a chance that he can get Zayn back then he’ll take it.

hi. got ur voicemail. jst wanted 2 make sure ur ok. i miss u zayn xxx

He gets a response after just a few minutes.

Hi Liam. I’ve been better, can’t lie haha. I miss you too xxx

wud it be bad if i called u now? i think we need 2 tlk xxx

This time the response takes a little longer but eventually…

god yes call me please xxx

Liam’s dialling Zayn’s number before he’s even finished reading his reply.

“Li?” Zayn’s voice says hurriedly and Liam’s breath hitches.

“Hi, Zayn,” he says slowly, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. “I, er, hi.”

“You already said hi,” Zayn says, a tiny laugh in his voice.

Liam laughs awkwardly, clutching the receiver to his ear. “How’s your head?”

“Killer,” Zayn says with a groan. “I think freshers has killed me.”

Liam laughs. “I’m still sad I never got to see you properly drunk. I bet you’re adorable.”

There’s an awkward pause.

“I miss you,” Zayn says suddenly, filling the silence. “I miss you and I’m sorry I left you that stupid voicemail because it was so rude and so unfair because I didn’t know all the facts and I…”

“I’m not seeing someone,” Liam blurts. “She’s just a mate, I promise.”

“I, er, I know,” Zayn says. “My new flatmate at uni is, like, your biggest fan and she told me about it. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, you didn’t know,” Liam says, shrugging even though he knows Zayn can’t see him. “Did you mean the rest of it though?”

“Er, the rest of what?” Zayn asks, gulping audibly.

“Do you remember what you said in the message? You were pretty drunk, babe.”

“Liam,” Zayn groans. “Please don’t call me babe, not right now.”

“Did you mean it?” Liam repeats, ignoring him because he needs to know. “About how you can’t stop thinking about me and you… you wear the watch every day and stuff?”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah,” Zayn eventually croaks. “I do.”

“Do you want to be with me?” Liam practically whispers. “Have you changed your mind?”

Zayn groans. “I do want to be with you,” he whimpers. “But I don’t want your life. I’m not made for your life. I just, fuck, Liam, I just want you but it doesn’t work like that.”

“We could make it work,” Liam insists. “We could try it for a while in secret, see if we work enough to pursue this into the public eye. And you can walk away at any time, I swear, I’ll set up a meeting with management, like, right now to see how we can work it…”

“Liam, I can’t ask you to do that for someone you’ve known properly for nine days,” Zayn interrupts gently. “And even if you did it, you might just realise you like the idea of me rather than actually me as a person, you know?”

“There’s something between us though,” Liam cries, gripping the phone like a lifeline. “There is something really big there and it could fall to pieces but it could be amazing, Zayn!”

“Liam, I…”

“Can we try? Please? I know it’s not great but just… I miss you, so much every single fucking day and if we can just starting, I don’t know, texting or something because it’s clearly not getting easier for both of us,” he pleads.

There’s a long pause.

“Okay,” Zayn says eventually. “I’m probably an idiot for doing this because I don’t know how it’s going to work but okay. I… you’re worth it, I think.”

“Yeah?” Liam says, his entire face breaking out into a beam. “You mean that?”

“I do,” Zayn says, his voice sounding a little choked. “God, Liam, I just… I feel so guilty that you thought I thought it was meaningless but it never was and I care about you so much. I’ve just been so set on this idea of uni and coming away from home and having some fun, you know?”

“I get you,” Liam says, because he does. “I just think we could be even better.”

“We’ll see,” Zayn says, and Liam can practically see his sad smile. “I, er, I should probably go. My first ever lecture is in twenty-five minutes and I have no idea where I’m going.”

“That’s okay,” Liam says. “Will you text me after?”

“Um, yeah,” Zayn says. “Yeah, I will.”

“Thank you,” Liam smiles, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to you in a bit then.”

“I guess we will,” Zayn replies. “Bye, Li.”

“Bye, babe,” Liam says, hanging up before Zayn can tell him off for his word choice. He bites his lip and holds his phone close to his chest, his heart pounding. He feels lighter than he has in fucking weeks already, dizzy with excitement at the idea of texting Zayn later.

He smiles as he crawls out of bed and into his ensuite, beaming at his reflection. It’s going to be slow, he knows, but things could finally be starting to get better.

Day fifty-eight

i rlly need 2 tlk 2 u :/ :/ :/ xxx

Zayn had opened the text from Liam just as he was going into a two hour lab, cursing under his breath at Liam’s spectacular timing. He stuffs his phone in his pocket and tries to focus on the task in hand but his mind is elsewhere, which means he ends up apologising profusely to his lab partner as he nearly fucks up their entire work.

He rushes out of there and shoots Liam a desperate text.

Sorry Li, was in a lab. Whats up love? xxx

Barely seconds later Liam’s name is flashing across his homescreen so Zayn answers the call with furrowed brows.

“Liam? Everything okay?”

“No,” Liam says, voiced tinged with worry. “Management didn’t take very well to our meeting.”

Zayn groans.

“They want me to get a beard,” Liam virtually whispers and Zayn’s blood runs cold.

He knew this would fucking happen, he knew. And the worst part is he’d really lulled himself into a false sense of security these past few weeks, talking to Liam every single day for most of the day, even FaceTiming a few times and feeling happier than he has in months.

But this? This is exactly what Zayn knew he couldn’t handle – seeing Liam hamming it up to the world as a straight guy with some beautiful girl on his arm while Zayn sits and pretends that he isn’t happy, he isn’t in love, isn’t able to tell people besides Doniya and Perrie how fucking proud he is or how much he fucking misses him.

And two nights ago Liam had asked him on Skype whether he can ask Management about Zayn being a little bit more present in his life; not as a boyfriend yet but as someone he was seeing. Zayn had felt like a thirteen year old with a crush, beaming as he had nodded shyly and said okay, even though he knew he really fucking shouldn’t.

“No,” he says, cutting Liam off from where he’s babbling a load of apologies into his ear. “No Liam, I… I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Liam says with a gulp.

“That’s seriously the condition of us fucking seeing each other, you getting a beard?” Zayn growls. “So I definitely become your dirty little secret then. You can’t bounce back from that, Li. You can’t just have a beard and then come out with me later on, I deserve more than that.”

“I know you do, Zayn,” Liam says desperately. “I know this is the one thing you didn’t want but, like, at least then they’d work around it so we could see each other and…”

“And what, Liam?” Zayn shouts, ignoring the fact that he’s in public. “See each other when you have the fucking free time and the ability to sneak me somewhere before you get your delightful beardy pap shots and I get knocked under the table as less important, all because I’m not a fucking girl. And if this is the precaution that they’re taking when you’re just seeing someone, can you imagine what the fuck would happen if we actually got in a relationship?!”

“Why does it matter?” Liam yells back. “Why does it matter if we’re the ones who know the truth and we’re happy?! It works like that for Harry and Louis!”

“That’s another story!” Zayn snaps. “That’s your life and you’ve adapted to it! I can’t just adapt to the fact that I have to hide the fact that I fucking love you and I’m not allowed to act on it or have people know; that’s not who I am, Liam!”

“You’re in love with me?” Liam practically sobs. “Is that really how you’re going to tell me?”

“I didn’t say it like that,” Zayn growls. He suddenly really wants to throw up.

“You just said it, Zayn, Jesus Christ.”

“I can’t let myself, Liam,” Zayn chokes out. “Maybe if the circumstances were different I could, but I can’t watch you parade around with some girl and have you pretend like I mean jack shit to you.”

“You could never mean jack shit to me,” Liam says firmly. “I fucking care about you so much, Zayn, I…”

“Can we just…” Zayn interrupts, rummaging for his keys like a madman in his backpack. “Can I just have some time to think, please?”

“Think?”

“I need to just…” Zayn sighs, thundering into his flat and locking himself in his bedroom. “I need to think. I can’t think straight right now and I need some time to work out what I want.”

“Zayn…”

“Liam, please,” Zayn begs. “Just, like, a couple of days. I’ll ring you when I know you’re back in England.”

“Maybe we could meet up then, yeah? Please?”

“I’ll let you know,” Zayn says, fisting a hand in his hair. “I can’t… I won’t let myself fall again if it’s going to hurt too much, Li.”

“I’ll do anything, Zayn,” Liam says and it sounds like he’s crying. “Anything, I swear.”

“Just give me, like, a few days, okay? I just, I need to work out where my head is.”

“I care about you so much, Zayn,” Liam says again, voice thick.

“I know,” Zayn whimpers back. “So do I. And that’s why I’m doing this. Because I care about you too much to break your heart, okay?”

“You’re going to break it either way,” Liam says wetly.

“Bye, Liam,” Zayn says, scrunching up his face to try and least postpone his tears. He manages to hang up and toss his phone away before they fall and he buries his face in his hands, breathing heavily.

He lies in his room in silence, fingers itching for either a cigarette or his phone.

What the fuck are you doing?, he thinks bitterly to himself. Why does this matter so much?

His mind drifts back to when he saw Liam on BBC3, walking with his arm around the girl’s waist. Even now it makes him feel sick and he wasn’t even with Liam at the time, and the very idea of sitting back and watching the world see Liam with someone else while he sits and pretends he doesn’t care fucking hurts.

But this is Liam and he’s already established that having Liam in his life hurts a lot less than when he’s not.

He knows pretty much from then on what he’s going to do, but whether it’s a wise move or something he’s going to regret is a completely different question.

Day sixty
Perrie has never been so excited in her entire life.

Months of waiting have come down to this moment and even though she's going alone, she's honestly bouncing with excitement because she's finally going to be in the same building, same room, breathing the same air as Niall Horan.

She skives her day at uni and takes the brief journey to Wembley, joining the queue of girls decked out in One Direction merchandise and waving banners, screaming along with the rest of them as a several long black tour buses pull into the venue.

She ends up tagging along with a group of girls and they manage to get two rows of people to the front. She squeals internally when she realises just how close she's going to be and even though it's a long fucking wait she's seeing her favourite band at Wembley, goddammit.

After what feels like hours of waiting through a dire support act, the stadium lights go up and four bodies jump onto the stage, running down a slope and onto the catwalk into the middle.

"Good evening, Wembley!" Louis yells and the crowd goes fucking mental.

Perrie cranes her neck, heart in her throat when she sees Niall in front of her with his guitar in his hand, strumming away the opening beat of their latest single. Liam isn't far behind him, singing his verse and jumping to the beat enthusiastically.

She knows the surge of anger she feels as Liam raises his hand and waves to a gaggle of screaming girls on the other side of the catwalk is completely irrational but she can’t help it. She watches as he sashays along the catwalk, dancing filthily against either one of the other boys or for the crowd and her fists clench at her side. She aims to ignore it, instead focusing on Niall and attempting to hone in on the fact that the boy who broke her new best friend’s heart has to do this for the audience.

It's towards the end of the encore that the unthinkable happens.

There are two songs left to sing - their biggest hit and their second most recent single. The concert is still going full-pelt and the other three still look incredibly excited, high of the adrenalin and the atmosphere. Liam, on the other hand, seems to be getting more nervous - whispering more to one of the other lads or having his voice wobble ever so slightly during his solos.

The opening bars to You & I start but instead of Niall opening it like he usually does, Liam takes the microphone, letting the opening bars play on a loop behind him.

"Wembley," he shouts and cheers around him. "Wembley, it's been an honour to play here, in the biggest stadium in our own country! I just want to say thank you so much to each and every one of you before I say a few words which may change things around here a little bit."

The crowd keeps on screaming.

"Recently, I... I fell in love with someone, one of the greatest people I've ever met and I messed it up."

The screams are positively deafening and Perrie's mouth nearly hits the floor.

"I messed it up because I was naive enough to think that just wanting to be together is enough and it just isn't," Liam continues, looking at his three bandmates almost desperately, who all shoot him a thumbs up. "And the person knew that but I went ahead and screwed it up anyway!"

He takes a deep breath. "So what I'm really saying, guys, is that I'm sorry I lied to you but the thing is, I'm gay!" he yells, opening his arms wide as he screams it to the crowd. "I'm gay and I'm in love with this stupid boy who I hope still loves me even after I've treated him so badly!"

Perrie bursts into tears.

"And I'm not going to say his name yet because I think our relationship needs some time to recover first," Liam continues, wiping at his own eyes. "But Zed, baby, I love you. I don't know if you'll even see this, let alone take me back but I love you and I'm so so sorry." He throws his arms up in the air. "Oh, and this song is for you, babe."

Perrie doesn't know what the fuck to do. The song launches up and Niall wraps his arms around Liam's back as he sings his opening lines, Harry and Louis standing around them like a protective cocoon. The stadium is in anarchy; girls sobbing and wailing at the loss of Liam's heterosexuality, girls cheering on this allusive Zed and people generally completely befuddled at what just happened.

By the time the concert's over, Perrie has shoved her way out of there and is loitering outside, frantically tapping her foot as she dials Zayn's number.

"Pez, how was it?" he asks enthusiastically as he finally answers. Perrie bursts into tears again.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he says worriedly. "Perrie, Pez?"

"Zayn Malik, you need to google Liam Payne right now!" she screechess, wiping her eyes. "I can't believe... you won't believe..."

"Woah, Per, breathe a second," Zayn gulps. "Why do I need to google Liam? What's happened?"

"Just fucking do it!" she shrills. "So help me god, do it now!"

"Alright, alright," Zayn says. She hears his laptop open and him tapping away on the keys. "Holy shit."

"Are there any videos?!"

"Um, yeah, wait, Pez, what the fuck happened, he... did he just came out on stage?!"

"Yes!" Perrie shouts, jumping up and down on the spot. "He told the world he loves you!"

"Per..." Zayn says slowly. "Are you... he told the world about us?"

"He didn't say your name, just called you Zed. Said it was up to you because he wasn't even sure if you were gonna see it or even take him back but yeah, he's out and he did it for you, Zayn."

"That stupid fucking git," Zayn sniffs. "What an arsehole. God, I love him so much."

"You do?" Perrie squeals, ignoring the passers-by shooting her strange looks. "This is the best news ever!"

"What do I do, Perrie?" Zayn moans, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Call him, you stupid twat! Call him and tell him you love him!"

"But I'm not sure if..."

"ZAYN MALIK, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON' T DIAL LIAM'S NUMBER THIS VERY SECOND I WILL COME HOME AND I WILL KICK YOU SO HARD BETWEEN THE LEGS..."

"Alright, alright," Zayn says with a sniff. "Thanks, Perrie."

"Now!" Perrie shrieks and hangs up. Unsure of what else to do, she joins the almost stationary line of people fighting to get out of the stadium, heart pounding under her tour t-shirt.

*

Liam has just received the bollocking of a lifetime but he couldn't give any less of a shit because right now he feels freer than he has in three years.

"You shouldn't have done that, Liam!" his publicist, Jackie, is screaming at him in his dressing room. "You're going to get so much hate and parents are going to rip up tickets!"

"Oh, give it a fucking rest!" Lou snaps from the other side of the room where she's packing up her make up brushes. "He came out, he didn't announce he was a murderer on stage."

"With all due respect, Louise, you don't have to deal with the media shitstorm that's about to hit," the publicist snaps.

"With all due respect, Liam is my friend and you're talking to him like he's a commodity, not a person," Lou deadpans, coming over and standing beside Liam, crossing her arms angrily.

"Look," Liam tries to reason, "I had to do it to save my relationship, okay? I said a few weeks ago that I didn't want to hide this relationship if I didn't have to and there's not a lot we can do now so let's just go on and make this a positive thing, yeah?"

"Oh yeah?" Jackie sneers. "And how do you propose we make people ripping up your tickets and tweeting you vast amounts of hate a positive thing, you stupid boy?"

"You can start talking to him like a human being, for a start," Liam's security guard, Paddy, says as he lets himself into the room. "We can hear you screaming from two rooms away and frankly it's disgusting."

"You can say it's disgusting when you have to do damage control," Jackie counters.

"Don't talk to us about damage control when you haven't seen how low Liam has been these past few weeks when his relationship went tits up," Lou snaps. "Let the boy love who he wants."

"You people clearly understand nothing," Jackie says. "You have no idea what this is going to do to the image we've spent millions on crafting for you lot." She sighs. "Okay, you better tell me some stuff about this boy so we can work on his image."

"What the fuck does his image have to do with you?" Liam asks incredulously.

"Well, you can't date just anyone," Jackie scoffs. "What's his name then? Zed as in Zachary or something?"

"It's Zayn ," Liam says defensively.

"Zayn as in an ethnic name?" Jackie says exasperatedly. Liam's eyes go wide in horror and he hears both Lou and Paddy gasp behind him.

"As in he is Pakistani, yes," he says angrily.

Jackie sighs again. "I suppose we can work with it. Cultural diversity and all that. Would be easier if he was white, I must say."

"Oh, must you?" Liam spits back sarcastically. "I mean, really it's none of your damn business where the fuck he's from or what the fuck he does or who the fuck he even is because I'm the one who's in love with him, not you, and frankly I think it's a fucking disgrace that you felt the need to say this shit just to get at me."

"I'm not saying it to get at you, I'm saying it so you try and understand things from my way," Jackie says, rolling her eyes.

"Your racist, homophobic, business point of view way that's making me and my best friends feel like shit because three of us happen to prefer dick over vagina and that affects your album sales?"

"Hey, you signed up for this life," Jackie shrugs. "That's entertainment."

"You need to leave," Lou says angrily, wrapping her arms around Liam's neck comfortingly. "You need to get the hell out and get a fucking reality check, love."

"We all heard your racist and homophobic slurs too," Paddy says, crossing his arms menacingly. "Enough to file a complaint against you, you cow."

Jackie sighs again. "Be my guest. Everyone at the firm will just tell you the same thing."

"You need to leave," Lou repeats. Jackie waves a taloned hand at them before strutting out, hair bouncing across her shoulders.

"Fuck," Liam says, holding himself closer to Lou. "That was hideous."

"What a twisted bitch," Lou snaps, pressing a long kiss on the top of his head. "How fucking dare she?"

"I mean it about the complaint, Liam lad," Paddy says, clapping him on the shoulder. "What a cow. You didn't deserve any of that."

"Thanks," Liam mumbles. "We should put one in. Like I get it's one thing for me to come out on stage and to cause a scandal that way but to start on Zayn..."

"Is fucking ludicrous," Lou finishes for him. "Speaking of lover boy, have you spoken to him?"

Liam shakes his head before digging in his pocket to yank out his phone.

"Shit, I've got eight missed calls from him," he says dumbly. "Um, okay, I'm going to call him. Shit."

Lou claps her hands excitedly. "I'm so excited for you, Li!"

Liam smiles nervously as he presses the call back button. He clutches the phone close to his ear, cursing when the engaged tone sounds.

"It's engaged, what do I do?"

"Do you know where he lives?" Lou asks.

"Vaguely, I... it's like student housing not that far from here." He jumps up. “I better go find him.”

"Want me to drive you?"

Liam nods hurriedly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and following Paddy out of there into the lift. They get down to the car park and Liam hops in the passenger seat of Paddy's car, nerves and excitement thrumming through his veins.

"Is it the University of Westminster accommodation?" Paddy asks as he programmes the satnav. Liam nods quickly and then Paddy's spinning them out of there, foot pressed down hard on the accelerator.

The problem is, the crowds leaving the stadium are still a nightmare and there are families of all ages walking slowly down the long road out of there so all Paddy can do is crawl the car forward at five miles an hour.

"Oh fuck this," Liam groans. He tugs the hood of his hoodie up and pulls his snapback lower over his face. "Paddy, I'm gonna make a dash for it."

"You are not," Paddy shouts, but Liam's already out the door. "Liam!"

Liam runs, ducking his head and hurrying through the stragglers. They start to fan out towards the end of the road so he breaks into a run, keeping his head low as he picks up speed.

He's just rounding a corner when he smacks into another body hard, knocking them into a wall. Their phone goes flying and Liam skids to a halt, picking it up and handing it back to the person, who is babbling angry swear words at him in a thick Geordie accent.

"You fucking tit- oh my fucking god," Perrie gulps, taking her phone and clutching it to her chest. Liam puts a finger over his mouth and sends her pleading eyes as he adjusts his snapback.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry but I need to go..."

"I’m friends with Zayn!" Perrie blurts. Liam freezes.

He looks around frantically, eyes eventually settling on an alley where he gestures for Perrie to follow him down. He leans against the wall, getting his breath back before looking up at the girl in front of him, who looks absolutely bloody terrified.

“You’re friends with Zayn?” he pants. She nods quickly.

“I’m, er, I’m Perrie, I don’t know if he’s talked about me at all…”

“His flatmate? Big fan, got a thing for Niall?”

Perrie snorts shyly. “I’m going to kill him for that. But yeah, yeah that’s me and I just got off the phone with him. He says he can’t get hold of you.”

“Oh god, I was in this fucking hideous meeting about it, they didn’t let me go. I had to run off because I need to fucking find him.”

“I’ll take you,” Perrie offers. “He’s currently at home tearing his hair out because he can’t get hold of you.”

“Shit,” Liam hisses, yanking his phone out his pocket. “Shit, I’ve missed another call.”

“It’s, like, a five minute walk to our accommodation,” Perrie says. “Like, we live in the Wembley student court. It’s half the reason I applied here.” She flushes as she slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Yes please,” Liam says hurriedly, oblivious to Perrie’s embarrassment. “Um, can we, like, hold hands or have me walk with an arm around you or something? Nobody will suspect it’s me then, do you see?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Perrie nods, giddy with the notion that a member of her favourite band just asked to put his arm around her. “Let’s go.”

Liam flips his hood back up and holds out his hand for Perrie to take. She slides her hand into his and they both keep their heads bowed as they duck out the alleyway, hurrying down the crowded sidewalks.

In what feels like no time at all, Perrie is digging in her bag for her keys as they arrive at a gated complex of tall apartment buildings. She lets them in and leads him hurriedly down the pathways to her building. She lets them in to her building, opening the door to her flat and leading him inside.

“That’s Zayn’s door there,” she whispers, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “He should be in there. Go knock, yeah?”

Liam nods. “Thank you so much,” he whispers back.

“Perrie, Pez, is that you? I can’t…” Zayn’s voice says before his door is yanked open and he stops dead in his tracks, staring at the pair like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Liam?"

"Hi," Liam says after a nervous pause.

“Hi,” Zayn says back, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “You didn’t pick up your phone.”

“I didn’t get a chance to, they dragged me into this awful meeting about my reckless behaviour,” Liam says, taking a step forward. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re such a twat,” Zayn says, face breaking out into a nervous smile as he steps closer to Liam too. “You’ve made it absolutely impossible for me to hate you.”

“You still want to hate me?” Liam says, moving his hands forward gingerly towards Zayn’s hips. Zayn rolls his eyes and slaps him, hard before yanking him in and slamming their mouths together.

Liam cups the back of Zayn’s head with his hands and smiles into it, ignoring the throbbing in his cheek because Zayn is warm and pliant in his arms, kissing him deeply after so fucking long that he doesn’t stop until he’s completely out of breath.

“You complete and utter tosser,” Zayn says, resting their foreheads together. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Kiss back?”

Zayn slaps him again, but gentler this time. “Why did you come out to the entire world? You knew there would be so much backlash and you did it anyway, you fool.”

Liam shrugs. “I just love you, I guess.”

Zayn groans and rolls his eyes. “I love you too, you arse.”

Liam’s grin spreads across his face until his eyes crinkle. “Thank god. I was worried I did it for nothing.”

“It was never nothing, you absolute…”

Liam kisses him again, frogmarching him backwards through into his bedroom until they fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Zayn pushes Liam’s hood down, knocking his snapback to the floor and grips his face while Liam’s hands tug him closer around his middle.

They kiss and they kiss until their mouths are swollen and Liam can’t remember why they stopped doing this in the first place. When they eventually pull apart Zayn keeps his hand on Liam’s face, stroking down it gently.

“Can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers. Liam hums happily, draping a hand over his waist and stroking gently over his lower back. “How did you even get here?”

“I ran into Perrie,” Liam grins. “Like literally ran into the poor girl. Remind me to introduce her to Niall as a sincere apology and a huge thank you.”

“How…?”

“I don’t know,” Liam shrugs. “Because not even the gods above can separate the two of us, maybe?”

Zayn groans again. “You’re awful. You’re awful and that speech of yours made me cry.”

“You saw it?”

“Perrie rang me near hysterical at the end of your show,” Zayn explains. “Told me to google you right this instant. So I did and it made me fucking cry.”

“Are you okay with this?” Liam asks worriedly. “Because I didn’t say your name so you don’t have to come out with me or anything but we can just see where it goes and…”

“Liam,” Zayn says, eyes scanning over his face. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you but I wasn’t sure how the fuck to go about it but… you know I was going to phone you and tell you I wanted to give it a go anyway, yeah?”

“You were?” Liam says, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” Zayn laughs softly. “Having you and just having you cover it up for a while started to seem a hell of a lot more appealing than not having you at all.”

“You sappy twat,” Liam says, feeling a little bit like his heart might burst. “We’re going to make it work, we will. I’m back in England for two months now, you know, so that makes life easier, doesn’t it?”

“So you’re up for spending your two months off hiding in my shitty uni room eating shitty takeaways and having lots of making-up-for-lost-time sex then?” Zayn grins.

“I mean, if you’re offering,” Liam chuckles, nuzzling into Zayn’s neck. “Might have to go to a few meetings about that thing I just did.”

“What was the meeting you were just in?”

“Some dickhead publicist being wonderfully homophobic towards us,” Liam groans, letting Zayn stroke down his head. “I actually kind of just ran out and didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

“Liam!” Zayn gapes at him.

“I had to see you!” Liam argues, pulling back to pout at Zayn adorably.

“So I’m harbouring a fugitive?” Zayn grins cheekily.

“Something like that,” Liam grins. “Who gives a fuck anyway? They don’t own me.”

“You crazy bastard,” Zayn giggles. “Shall we really piss them off and not let you return until tomorrow?”

“Fuck yes,” Liam beams, his laugh turning into a moan as Zayn attaches his lips to his neck.

Day three hundred and sixty-five

“Liam, fuck!”

Liam just smirks as he adds a second finger, pumping them in and out vigorously as Zayn bites down onto the meaty flesh of Liam’s shoulder to stop himself from crying out louder. Liam has one arm wrapped around Zayn’s waist to support him as he presses him harder against the wall of the supply cupboard, his other deep inside Zayn.

“Fucking hell,” Zayn moans as Liam brushes over his sweet spot, alternating between crooking his fingers and scissoring him open. “Liam, Liam, stop. Gonna come if you don’t fuck me soon.”

“As you wish,” Liam says, voice low and thick with arousal. Zayn scrabbles forward and digs inside the pocket of Liam’s jeans for a condom, slotting the foil packet in between his teeth so he can wrestle with the button on Liam’s jeans and shove them down.

Liam pulls his fingers out and strokes himself a few times while Zayn rips the packet open with his teeth, handing it over to Liam with shaky fingers to slide down himself.

Zayn wraps his arms around Liam’s neck and braces himself as Liam guides himself in, pressing in inch by inch before he starts fucking Zayn in earnest up against the wall. They’re not being quiet by any stretch of the imagination – Liam manages to knock over a mop and bucket and Zayn’s not even bothering to muffle his moans anymore – but it’s their anniversary, goddammit, and they’ve been trying to sneak away for a shag for nearly three hours.

Liam is seconds away from his climax, his thrusts getting sloppy and erratic as he chases his pleasure when there’s a pounding on the door.

“You sick bastards!” Louis’ voice screeches. “Fucking in a cleaner’s cupboard. Even Haz and I haven’t stooped that low!”

Liam groans and Zayn whimpers, trying to fuck down onto Liam’s dick from where he’s pressed against the wall.

“Yes, you have,” comes Niall’s voice. “You fuck wherever you damn please.”

“We’ve never fucked in one though,” Louis argues. “There’s maybe been a blowie or seven but never…”

“Can you guys please sod off?” Zayn grits out, biting his lip as Liam wraps a hand around his cock. “This is really not a good time.”

“Why are you guys all hanging around a cupboard?” asks Perrie.

“We’re listening to Zayn and Liam having a shag,” Louis tells her.

“Oh bloody hell,” she swears. “Niall, c’mon, this is unfair!”

“Nah, babe, this is payback for the amount of times we’ve been sexiled from your flat,” Niall explains. “Fuckin’ Payno getting all them renovations done at his flat while we were only back in the country for three weeks.”

Liam chooses that exact moment to simultaneously bite down on that spot on Zayn’s neck that drives him fucking wild coupled with a particularly wonderful flick of his wrist has Zayn coming with a strangled cry. He fucks him hard through it, eventually coming a few moments later with a grunt.

He collapses forward, resting his sweaty forehead on Zayn’s chest as the four of them outside groan and traipse off, groaning about bloody exhibitionists. He giggles as he kisses across the angel wings and Zayn cradles his head, panting as they both come down from their high.

“What a shag,” Liam breathes, gingerly pulling out and eliciting a groan from Zayn. “Happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary to you too,” Zayn chuckles, kissing Liam’s forehead as he comes back up to face him after tying the condom. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Liam grins, stealing another quick kiss as he tugs his jeans up. “God, fuck, as if they heard all that.”

“Kinda hot though,” Zayn says, waggling his eyebrows as he tugs his t-shirt back on. “Bet you fifty quid Louis makes an innuendo about it in the interview.”

Liam snorts, kissing Zayn again slower, longer, before grabbing his hand and unlocking the cupboard door. They walk hand in hand down the corridor to the green room entrance, blushing as they get through the door and everyone, including their crew members, starts whooping and catcalling them.

“You shits,” Zayn tells them, flopping into a spare seat and pulling Liam onto his lap. “It’s our anniversary, leave us alone.”

“Not your real anniversary though,” Harry points out, “so it doesn’t count.”

“It is our real anniversary,” Liam pouts. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with him since the day I met him.”

Everyone in the room groans, except Perrie and Harry who coo happily.

“Don’t cater to him, babe,” Niall stage-whispers in her ear. “He’s just trying to prove a point that he’s in the cutest couple when they’re clearly not.”

“We clearly win that title,” Louis snaps playfully, turning around and kissing Harry messily. This time everybody groans, including Perrie. Niall throws his shoe at them.

“As much as I hate to break up, um, this,” their new publicist, Courtney, says, gesturing dismissively at Harry and Louis’ melded bodies, “partners out, everyone. Interview starts in five.”

“Love you snookums,” Niall drawls sarcastically, planting a huge smacking kiss on Perrie’s mouth and ending up with purple lipstick all over him. Lou tuts and hurries over to wipe at his mouth aggressively and Perrie snorts, following Zayn out of there with a shake of her head.

The interview starts up and there’s thunderous cheer as One Direction take the sofa, waving happily to the crowd. The interviewer, a glamourous American lady shakes all their hands and grins over at them. It starts fairly simple, questions about the tour and the upcoming album until talk turns to relationships.

“So all of you are spoken for now, am I right?”

“Yes we are,” Liam tells her, beaming.

“It’s actually Payno here’s anniversary today,” Niall chips in, sliding a hand behind his shoulder and squeezing. “One year with his boy.”

“Is that right?” the interviewer asks enthusiastically. “And how are things going?”

“Perfect,” Liam grins. “It’s been tough, I can’t lie, but Zayn has been worth every single second and it was a hundred percent worth me coming out when I did.”

“Oh, yeah?” the interviewer asks, encouraging him to go on. “What makes you say that?”

“Payno’s never been a big fan of closets,” Louis chips in loudly. Liam flushes.

“Not only that,” he coughs (he can practically see Zayn’s smirk from backstage), “it wasn’t fair lying to the fans but also it was the right time for me because I was just sort of starting this relationship at the time and our old management brand wanted me to get a beard and I flat-out refused. Zayn didn’t want to be a part of some covering up scandal so if I hadn’t have done something then I might have missed out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me, yeah.”

“A bearding scandal, that seems quite demoralising,” the interviewer says with wide eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t stoop, Liam, good for you!” There’s a round of applause and Liam can’t stop his grin.

“We like to think that we’re more than just a band,” Harry adds on, dropping an arm over Louis’ shoulder. “Like we like to think we’ve made it easier for people to come out and that it is completely normal and part of everyday life to have a happy, healthy, committed relationship with someone of the same gender for those people who still don’t think you can.”

“You guys seem so mature about this whole thing, it’s really refreshing to hear,” the interviewer tells them.

“That’s what we were aiming for,” Harry says, cuddling Louis closer and gaining a coo from the audience.

“Anyway, we’re out of time, which I’m sure Liam in particular is very pleased about if it’s his anniversary,” the interviewer winks. Liam chuckles awkwardly, hiding his face in his hands as the audience laughs loudly. “Thank you very much, everybody give it up for One Direction!”

The four boys skip off the stage and Liam wraps his arms around Zayn the second he sees him, kissing him enthusiastically and ignoring the others.

“No more interviews,” he grins. “Home?”

“God, yes,” Zayn groans against his lips.

“Paddy?” Liam calls over his shoulder. “Paddy, can we go?”

“Wait, aren’t you coming for food with us?” Niall asks, arm around Perrie’s waist. “I thought we were throwing you a celebration.”

“I mean, that’s a lovely thought,” Liam grins, “but…”

“But no,” Zayn finishes, dropping his arms from around Liam to take his hand.

“Wait, then if you’re going home already why did you need to shag in a cupboard?” Perrie asks incredulously.

“Because someone woke us up before we could have morning anniversary sex,” Zayn snaps, glaring as Paddy appears in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You deserved it, Malik; the amount of times we’ve run late because you’ve been titivating your feckin’ hair…”

“Can we just go?” Liam moans, dragging Zayn down the corridor before the rest of them can rib them any further. Zayn waves fleetingly over his shoulder, giddy with excitement as they rush to their car and back to their hotel.

“I got you a present,” Liam says once they’re in the car, nipping at Zayn’s earlobe. Zayn groans.

“I fucking hate it when you buy me presents.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll like this one,” Liam grins, biting at his shoulder.

“I’ve only got two wrists, if it’s another fucking watch…”

“It’s a bit cheaper,” Liam says. “It’s sort of longer, and thicker, and more curved, and it vibrates…”

“Oh, god, yes,” Zayn whimpers as Liam trails his lips up his neck. “God, Liam…”

“I don’t get paid enough for this job,” Paddy groans. Liam and Zayn both laugh and Paddy puts his foot down, speeding down the highway until they get to the hotel.

“I would say keep it down but it’s going to fall on deaf ears, isn’t it?” Paddy groans, disappearing into his own room as the lads ignore him and fall into their own room, kissing harshly.

Two hours later, Liam is lying on top of Zayn’s sweaty chest, completely fucked out and sated as Zayn’s soft hands stroke down his arm.

“Liam?” Zayn whispers, voice heavy with sleep. “Liam, can we spoon?”

“Course,” Liam says, shuffling up so Zayn’s curled up against his chest. “Nap before round two? Then we can have a fag and then I’ll order you some room service and we can watch Inbetweeners.”

“We are not recreating our first date, that’s fucking lame and something Harry and Louis would do,” Zayn yawns, pulling Liam closer to him. “How about in an hour you wake me and then I rim you instead?”

Liam makes a happy hum of agreement, kisses Zayn behind the ear and dozes off to the steady lull of Zayn’s breathing and the steady ticking of the Cartier watch that sits takes pride of place on Zayn’s wrist.