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Liam stared down at his phone, eyes narrowed. Louis promised the guy would be there by 7:30. It hadn’t been 7:30 for - Liam looked at the time - nearly half an hour.
“Can I get you anything?” someone asked.
Liam looked up into the expectant eyes of his waiter. The guy had a slight smirk on his face, just the left side of his mouth turned up a bit, and wide eyes. Liam tried not to notice the way that the white shirt he was wearing contrasted not only with his skin tone but also with the inky designs on his arms.
“Um,” Liam looked at his phone one more time before closing it with a sigh. “I’ll just have a coffee while I wait.”
The guy wrote that down on his notepad and then frowned at Liam. “You waiting for someone? You’ve been here almost half an hour.”
Liam shifted uncomfortably. He was aware of how pathetic he looked. In fact, he was aware of how pathetic blind dates were, too, but Louis had insisted, and Liam was kind of helpless where Louis was concerned, because Louis vaguely terrified him.
“He was supposed to be here when I got here,” Liam admitted. “Or she, actually.” Because Louis hadn’t specified whether the date was a girl or a guy, and Liam hadn’t asked because he didn’t really plan on making anything of tonight anyways, not that he really had a preference for either sex. Liam liked people, that was it. There was no comparing of soft skin versus calloused hands, or sweet perfume versus spicy cologne. He liked both.
“Aren’t you a little young for a blind date?” the guy questioned, tucking his pen behind his ear. Liam couldn’t help but think that it probably would have been just as secure in his high-styled hair.
“I’m not that young,” Liam protested.
“How old are you, then?” the guy demanded boldly.
Liam blinked at him. “Twenty.” His eyes raked over the boy’s nametag. “What about you, Zayn?”
Zayn’s smirk was full blown now. “Twenty-one. And I think you’re a bit too young and, to be quite honest,” Zayn leaned down a bit so that Liam got a strong whiff of some delicious cologne that seemed to be laced with the smoky smell of cigarettes, “too attractive for a blind date.”
Liam jerked back, just a bit, and Zayn straightened, smirk still in place.
“I’m so sorry,” said a feminine voice to their left. “Liam, right? I’m Danielle. Louis - the prick- gave me the name of the wrong restaurant, and-,”
Liam stood up and Zayn stepped back so that Danielle could get through. “That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Louis has a habit of those types of things.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Danielle had soft brown eyes and a wide smile that was not malicious at all, a complete contrast to the sharp eyes and the annoyed smirk on Zayn’s face. She sat down in the booth and Liam followed.
“Menus, then?” Zayn asked. Liam noted the way his voice sounded lower and more resigned than it had just moments ago.
“Yes, please,” Danielle said politely, all the while her eyes were on Liam.
Zayn left them to read over the menus after that, but Liam didn’t miss the way Zayn’s fingers slid against the palm of his hand when he’d passed Liam his menu, or the way Zayn had winked at him as he backed away from their table.
“Not a bad place, right?” Danielle asked while scanning the menu. “I’ve never eaten here before. You?”
Liam shook his head. “Louis eats here all the time with Harry though, apparently.”
“Hmm,” Danielle murmured. “Want to split on an appetizer?”
Liam hated sharing food, to be honest, but he just nodded. “Sure, whatever you want,” he added, because Danielle seemed sweet enough so far and he had promised to make an effort, even if he didn’t really feel anything there between the two of them, no initial spark of anything that might develop into something more.
Danielle looked up in the direction that Zayn had disappeared and a moment later he reappeared, notepad at the ready. “You ready to order?”
“We’ll just get an appetizer for now,” Danielle said swiftly, smiling brightly. “The party platter.”
“Anything to drink?” Zayn asked her.
“I’ll get a chocolate milkshake, I think,” Danielle decided while looking over the menu once more.
Zayn wrote that down and then turned to Liam. “What about you, Liam?”
Liam coughed. “Just a, um, refill. On my coffee. Please.”
Then Zayn was gone, once again. Liam watched him go before pulling his eyes back to Danielle. “So, Louis didn’t exactly tell me much about you,” he admitted.
Danielle’s smile widened, if that was possible. “Honestly? I think we’re in the same boat.”
Zayn didn’t return for a full ten minutes, all of which it took for Danielle to tell Liam what she was studying (“I’m taking political science but also interning at the dance studio on Sutton Avenue.”), her idea of the perfect first date (“Going to a club and dancing, actually, but those kind of dates don’t usually end well, so, this is better.”) what she’d wanted to be when she was younger (“I wanted to dance backup for Destiny’s Child.”) and why she’d even agreed to a blind date (“Louis is very persistent, and for once I’m actually glad that I listened to him.”)
It wasn’t that Liam thought she was boring. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Danielle was a stream of words and smiles and laughter. Except they didn’t have anything in common, really. Liam was the type of person who hated having eyes on him, and dancing was definitely not something he voluntarily did, and he wasn’t exactly sure what political science even was.
“Firefighter,” Danielle repeated when Zayn returned and slid a giant platter, filled with fried food after fried food, in front of them, and the milkshake in front of Danielle. “That’s brilliant. You’ve got the shoulders to really fill out one of those uniforms.”
Zayn leaned over and poured fresh coffee into Liam’s cup, careful to keep his eyes on Liam. His voice was quiet, too quiet for Danielle to hear what he said, when he whispered, “You definitely do.” And then he pulled back again, a carefully collected look on his face. “Do you want me to take your menus, or do you plan on ordering something after the appetizer?”
“The second one,” Danielle told him as she reached for an onion ring.
Liam helped himself to an egg roll while Zayn left them again. They continued to chat, revealing things about themselves, giving opinions on the latest movies or songs.
“Do you mind if I head to the bathroom for a moment?” Liam asked, interrupting as Danielle was halfway through a long story about choreographing a routine to the Spice Girls when she was younger.
“Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. Liam got up, catching the smile on her face as she pulled out her phone and started texting under the table.
Liam headed across the restaurant and ducked into the bathroom. He pulled open the door to a random stall and then tugged out his phone and sent a quick text to Louis.
Does it make me a bad person if I think she’s lovely but I still want to stab myself with my fork?
Louis’ reply came almost instantly. Need me to come get u out of there?
Liam sighed and sent him back a quick no. He wasn’t going to do that. He’d do the rest of the date and then, after that, he’d get Louis to tell Danielle that he just wasn’t feeling it.
He washed his hands, even though he hadn’t really went to the bathroom, and then walked out. He hit a solid body on the way through the door, shoulders knocking together painfully.
“Sorry,” Liam said quickly, reaching out a hand to straighten whoever he knocked into.
“Should be saying that to your date, yeah?” Zayn asked, eyebrows raised. “Considering the way you’ve been eye fucking me the entire time she’s been there. Really gives the blind date thing a whole different meaning, because your date really is blind.”
Liam’s eyes darted to his table, where Danielle was happily sipping her milkshake, oblivious to Liam and Zayn.
“I haven’t-,”
“Yeah, you have,” Zayn told him. “And if you want this night to end in some real fun, I’ll be in the green car out front in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen?” Liam shook his head. “But you’re serving us-,”
“My shift ends in ten and Miranda takes over for me. See you later Liam,” Zayn told him, walking off towards the kitchen. “Or not.”
Liam swallowed and straightened his shirt. The thing was, Zayn was not his type. In fact, Zayn was clearly the opposite of Liam’s type. Liam liked people more like him: reserved, relaxed, quiet. Definitely not the type of guys who propositioned strangers at their own work place.
Liam went back to his booth with Danielle and sat down. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly.
“No problem, want a sip of this? It’s delicious,” she said as she already began to slide her milkshake towards him.
Liam took the obligatory sip and then handed it back to her. “More of a strawberry guy myself, to be honest.”
Danielle made a face. “Really? But nothing’s as good as chocolate.”
Liam shrugged.
A few minutes later a woman came over to their table and cleared their things. “My name’s Miranda,” she said, smiling thinly. “I’m taking over for Zayn.”
Liam jerked suddenly, and dug into his pants. He pulled out his phone and looked down at the blank screen. “Oh,” he said, trying his best to sound convincing. “There’s a problem back at my apartment. Apparently Niall’s tried cooking again and - oh, crap, he’s - I have to go.”
Danielle looked alarmed. “Is everything okay?”
Liam sighed. “Hopefully, but I really have to go. Can we get a check?”
Miranda nodded and cleared the rest of their table before hurrying off. Danielle dug into the purse that Liam hadn’t even noticed she’d been carrying. She pulled out a pen and quickly scrawled on a napkin. “Another time, then? And next time we’ll actually get to dinner, maybe?”
“Definitely,” Liam lied, feeling a twinge of guilt. He grabbed the napkin with her number and shoved it roughly into his pocket. “I had a great time. You’re wonderful, really. I’m sorry.”
He felt bad enough that he waved off any of Danielle’s attempts to pay half the bill. He didn’t feel bad enough to linger behind and chat with her though, or to not get into the green car that was idling out front of the restaurant moments later.
“What’d you tell your date?” Zayn asked as he pulled away from the curb. He was still wearing the white button up shirt but the top few buttons were now undone, revealing more hidden tattoos on his collarbone.
“Um,” Liam rubbed his hands on his pants. “I didn’t. Exactly.”
Zayn snorted. “Didn’t peg you for the type to leave halfway through a date.”
“Yeah, well.” Liam couldn’t deny it, because he wasn’t that person. He really, really wasn’t. So what the hell was he doing, exactly?
When they came to a stop sign Zayn absently tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Your place or mine?” he asked, turning to Liam finally.
Liam’s tongue felt too thick in his mouth. He wasn’t inexperienced. He’d had a few serious relationships, kind of. He wasn’t the type of person to just screw around with someone he’d just met, though.
“Yours,” Liam answered, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than he felt.
Zayn’s lips tilted up in that smirk again, and Liam wondered whether that was just something he always did, or if it was because Liam amused him for some reason.
When they pulled into the lot of an apartment building, Zayn paused. “I have a dog,” he explained. “That’s not an issue, right?”
Liam shook his head, smiling. “Definitely not. I love animals.”
Zayn mimicked his smile, revealing a set of white teeth. “Good,” he told Liam as he headed towards the building. “’cause I’m gonna fuck you like one.”
Liam scrambled to follow Zayn towards the door. Zayn didn’t hold it open for him, the way that Liam definitely would have if it were the other way around. He felt incredibly awkward on the elevator ride up to Zayn’s floor, too. He wasn’t sure what to say or do. Zayn, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease.
The second Zayn opened the door to his apartment he was jumped by a seriously giant dog. “Down, Mira,” Zayn ordered, snapping his fingers. The dog sunk back down to all fours and looked expectantly up at Zayn before noticing Liam standing behind him. “Go lay down.”
Mira looked at Liam and barked once before trotting off into the apartment. Zayn led Liam in and then shut the door behind him. Liam started to toe off his shoes when a pair of arms encircled him from behind, and then slightly dry lips ghosted over his neck. He let his head tip back at the contact, wanting more.
“Bedroom, couch, or we can do it up against the door,” Zayn offered. His tongue moved with his lips this time and then he blew on the wet spot on Liam’s neck, making him shiver.
“Um,” Liam tried to think as Zayn’s hands started undoing the belt on his jeans. “Bedroom?”
Zayn chuckled. “Figured you for a bedroom type of guy.”
Liam wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but Zayn let go of him and then started through the apartment, calling, “Coming, Liam?” over his shoulder as he went.
Zayn’s apartment had one bedroom and a large living room. The bedroom itself was filled with a queen sized bed, a dresser, a tiny table beside the bed with a lamp, and then a modest sized TV on a stand across from the bed. Other than that, there weren’t really any personal items. No pictures or knicknacks or clothes on the ground.
“You look like you think a bit too much,” Zayn said when Liam stepped into his room. “Shut the door,” he added. “Then come here.”
“Right,” Liam said, nodding. He closed the door and hesitantly walked over to where Zayn had sunk down at the edge of the bed, legs spread wide enough for Liam to slot himself between them.
Zayn’s arms went around his waist. The bed frame wasn’t all that tall, and Zayn was about level with Liam’s stomach. He pushed up the material of Liam’s shirt and kissed along the trail of hair there that led lower. “Pull out your phone,” Zayn ordered.
Liam blinked at him. “What?”
“Pull out your phone,” Zayn repeated, looking up at Liam. It was obscene, really, the way he looked; his pupils blown wide, lips slick, giving Liam all his attention, especially when he was only inches away from where Liam was already pathetically straining against his boxers. “And call Louis.”
“Call - wait, how do you-?”
“Call Louis.” Zayn’s fingers started undoing Liam’s belt again, and then they worked on the button of his jeans, too. “Thank him, yeah?”
Liam was pretty fucking confused, to say the least, because how the hell did Zayn know Louis? And why was he telling Liam to call him? And was there really anything Liam wouldn’t do right at that moment for the boy with the dark eyes and sinful smirk? Because he really didn’t think there was, as he reached for his phone, buried deep in his pockets.
Zayn was undoing the zipper on Liam’s jeans while Liam tried to dial Louis’ number with shaky fingers. He pressed call just as Zayn tugged Liam’s jeans down his legs. Liam sucked in a harsh breath. “What are you-?”
“Don’t hang up on him,” Zayn instructed. “Wait for him to hang up on you.”
Liam could only nod dumbly as the phone rang. Zayn gripped him through his boxers as Louis answered with a bright, “Liam! How was your date?”
“Um,” Liam was having issues thinking straight. “Zayn - Zayn said to-,” Zayn pulled down Liam’s boxers, “to say thank you.”
Liam might not have any idea what the fuck was going on, but Louis apparently did. “Harry!” Louis said loudly. “It worked!”
He could hear Harry saying something in the background but none of it really registered because Zayn was grabbing his cock and licking the tip, and Liam wasn’t really able to do anything but stare down at him.
Zayn swirled his tongue over the tip of Liam’s cock and then his lips followed, until he was moving down, down, lips meeting his hand.
“Wait, are you with him?” Louis asked. “Are you-,”
“Oh, fuck,” Liam groaned, because Zayn’s hand moved from his cock to his ass, and Zayn was pulling his hips forward, taking more of Liam in his mouth.
“Are you two -oh, gross, Liam, honestly. I expect this from Zayn, but- Harry, Zayn’s defiling our Liam.”
“About time,” Harry said loudly.
“Tell Zayn’s he’s a prick and to be gentle,” Louis ordered. “And I’m hanging up, you perverts.”
The phone went dead and Liam let his hand drop to his side, unable to put it away just yet because he couldn’t focus on moving his body when everything was the wet warmth of Zayn’s mouth and the feeling of Zayn’s throat as he took him in all the way to the base.
And Zayn? Zayn was smirking. There was no way he wasn’t. He was smirking around Liam’s dick, and Liam had never seen someone look so smug and enticing in his life.
Zayn pulled off him moments later and Liam was man enough to admit that the sound he made because of that was needy. “He hung up?” Zayn asked as he lazily stroked Liam at the same pace his mouth had just been going. Liam nodded. “Good,” he said, moving up farther on the bed.
Liam watched in fascination as Zayn tugged off his button-up shirt. Underneath, Zayn was a mix of caramel coloured skin and dark ink. Liam would have carefully undid each of the buttons, just in case, but Zayn apparently didn’t care if it ripped, he just wanted it off.
Liam tugged off his own shirt as Zayn undid the buttons on his dress pants and then slid them off, soon followed by his boxers. Liam tried not to blush, he really did, but he’d just met this guy and suddenly they were both naked before each other, and things were going much faster than Liam was used to.
“Get over here,” Zayn beckoned, sitting up a bit against the headboard of his bed. Liam got in beside him, and Zayn threw his legs over Liam’s hips so that he was affectively straddling him. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re dangerously attractive, Liam?”
Liam blinked up at Zayn, who was scratching his nails roughly down Liam’s chest. He left little red marks in his wake, ones that faded before he started up again. “No,” Liam admitted, because he wasn’t, really. He was average and definitely not dangerous looking.
“You’ve got these eyes,” Zayn explained, fingers now ghosting over Liam’s ribs. Liam felt goosebumps break out over his skin. “Innocent eyes,” Zayn elaborated, and Liam couldn’t remember the word innocent ever sounding so completely not innocent. “But your lips- fuck, next time I’m fucking your mouth, yeah?”
Liam hadn’t known there was going to be a next time. He might not be an expert on random hook-ups, but he was pretty sure they were supposed to be a one time thing. “Okay,” Liam found himself agreeing anyways, because doubted he’d have the ability to say no to Zayn ever.
Zayn replaced his rough nails with his soft, wet lips, kissing slowly down Liam’s chest. When he came back up he nipped lightly at what Liam knew was the birthmark on his neck. Liam just wanted him to move. The way Zayn was sat on atop him had their cocks nearly perfectly lined up, but Zayn’s weight was balanced just right on top of him, making him unable to lift his hips to get the kind of friction that he needed.
“Zayn,” Liam groaned.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Come on,” Liam urged.
Zayn leaned up and smirked at him. “Fuck you’re impatient.” He leaned over and reached under the bed, finding a condom and a bottle of lube.
Liam had had sex with guys before, but normally he was the one on top. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being bottom, but normally Liam was the type of person who liked the be in charge, in control. The way Zayn touched him or looked at him, though, let him know that he definitely was not in control at the moment.
Zayn moved languidly down Liam’s body until he was between his legs. He hooked his fingers around Liam’s ankles and spread his legs wider on either side of his body. Liam felt exposed and helpless, really, to whatever Zayn was about to do. And he found he didn’t mind a single bit.
Zayn kissed the inside of Liam’s thigh lightly while he slicked his digits, and then the cold, slick feeling of lube covered fingers moving against his entrance had Liam throwing his head back against the bed.
“You’ve got a great ass,” Zayn said conversationally. “I’d take you from behind if I wasn’t looking forward to watching your face as I fuck into you.”
Liam whimpered, from both his words and his fingers, which still weren’t really doing anything. They were just there, soft, teasing, not pushing in. And then Zayn bit down hard on the inside of his thigh, Liam cried out, and he pushed the first finger in.
Zayn dragged his finger out slowly, letting Liam feel every inch of it move inside him. When he pushed back in, Zayn’s eyes flicked from Liam’s face down to where he was fingering him, like he couldn’t decide which one he enjoyed watching more. Finally, he seemed to decide, and he held Liam’s gaze for a long moment before roughly adding a second finger.
Liam waited for the burning stretch of it but it never came, because Zayn crooked his fingers just right and Liam’s hands fisted in the bed sheets as Zayn brushed against that spot inside him, the one that sent shivers up his whole body. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if he was ever going to get annoyed of the smirk on Zayn’s face, and figured that no, he probably wouldn’t.
He was going to have bruises littering the inside of his legs for days, he knew, because Zayn seemed to have a fascination with biting and sucking on the skin there. His inner thigh was too sensitive but the slight pain was a helpful distraction from the drag of Zayn’s fingers in and out of him, sometimes impossibly slow and sometimes gloriously fast.
Zayn didn’t get a chance to add a third finger before Liam was grabbing his bicep, pulling him up the bed. “I’m good,” Liam assured him. “I’m good. Just--,”
“Yeah? Right,” Zayn nodded, and fumbled for the condom. For the first time that whole night Liam felt that maybe Zayn wasn’t as collected and calm as he pretended to be.
Zayn flicked the condom wrapper onto the floor, followed quickly by the bottle of lube after he’d slicked himself up. Liam expected him just to get on with it, was willing to beg him too, even, but Zayn leaned forward and kissed Liam first, slow brushes of his tongue inside Liam’s mouth.
“I’m going to ruin you,” Zayn promised against Liam’s lips.
Liam leaned his head back onto the pillow once more, and Zayn’s teeth dug into his neck as he pushed in. He definitely felt the consequences of his impatience as Zayn moved into him, felt every inch of him as he went, just on the wrong side of painful.
Zayn’s hair was no longer perfectly styled, and a bead of sweat slid down his temple and jaw. Liam hadn’t realized, until then, just how much he missed the heavy weight of someone on top of him, or the way someone’s eyes burned into his as they looked down at him.
Zayn let himself fall forward so that his head was tucked into Liam’s neck. “You okay, babe?” Zayn asked.
“Move,” Liam ordered. “Please.”
Zayn chuckled but it was shaky, and the fingers of one hand dug into Liam’s hips as he pushed himself back up, while the other went to Liam’s leg, pulling it so that it wrapped around Zayn’s back. Zayn’s eyes were heavily lidded slits when he pulled out slowly, slow enough that Liam wanted to whimper but refrained from doing so by biting on his lip, and then he unexpectedly snapped his hips forward. If it weren’t for the leg wrapped around his back, Liam probably would have been pushed up higher on the mattress.
“Move,” Zayn repeated as he set up a rhythm that really couldn’t be considered a rhythm. Just like he had with his fingers, Zayn pushed into Liam quick and perfect, only to slow and drag it out moments later. “Moving enough for you?” he asked breathlessly.
Liam didn’t trust his voice, so he dug his nails into Zayn’s back in reply. Zayn’s eyes squeezed closed at that and Liam realized that he liked it, and then reached up a hand to tangle in Zayn’s hair and gave an experimental tug. Zayn keened, hips stuttering. “Fuck,” he groaned.
Liam, ridiculously enough, grinned at that, feeling a bit of control come back to him. At least, until Zayn’s eyes popped open and he grabbed Liam’s other leg, this time hooking it over his shoulder. The position gave Zayn momentum, and he really pounded into Liam then, letting him know that he’d been holding back before.
Liam’s mouth was open in a soundless ‘o’ as Zayn hit that spot inside of him. His own cock lay flat against his stomach, painfully hard still. He figured it wouldn’t take more than a few quick strokes to have him coming between them, but Liam couldn’t lift a hand to fist himself, not with the way Zayn was wrecking him, leaving him unable to do anything but lay there and take it and love it and fuck, Zayn really was going to ruin him.
“You should see yourself,” Zayn gasped out, eyes wide. “Fuck, you’re -I need you too-,” Zayn seemed just as incapable of forming proper thoughts as Liam, but he, thankfully, was able to get a hand around Liam’s cock. There was no real finesse in the way he jerked Liam off, his calloused hand moving to a different rhythm than his thrusts.
Liam didn’t care because, between Zayn’s hand and his cock, Liam was just shy of being perfectly overwhelmed by it all. It wasn’t until Zayn released him just long enough to lick a stripe up his own hand and then curl it around Liam’s erection again that he finally crossed that bridge, the tightening in his stomach loosening as he came over Zayn’s fingers.
Zayn let Liam’s leg drop from over his shoulder as Liam went blissfully limp and loose from his orgasm, having only enough energy to dig his fingers into Zayn’s waist as he kept going. And then Zayn slowed and let out a shuddering breath, eyes locked on Liam’s as he finished inside him.
Zayn was slow and careful as he pulled out, and Liam could only let his legs fall closed as Zayn flopped onto the bed beside him. His face was sweaty, but so was Zayn’s, droplets of it clinging to his hairline. Liam realized, in that moment, turning to look at him, that Zayn was impossibly beautiful.
Zayn’s eyes fluttered closed, but that smirk was once again back in place. “You good, Liam?” he asked, still not opening his eyes.
“Past good,” Liam admitted.
Zayn blinked at him. “You look wrecked. I’ll get you something to clean up, wait a minute.”
Liam could only watch as Zayn got out of bed and tugged on a pair of boxers. Liam kind of wished he didn’t, because there was something elegant about the shape of Zayn’s thin legs that had him urging to grab Zayn’s hand and pull him back into bed.
“Don’t get up,” Zayn told him as he padded out of the room.
The moment he was gone, Liam closed his eyes. He felt a bit gross, his own cum drying on his stomach, but other than that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so completely satisfied from sex. But then, once that feeling settled a bit, his mind started racing. He’d ditched off his date. He’d hooked up with someone whose last name he didn’t know. Actually, except for where he lived and worked and the fact that he had a dog named Mira, Liam didn’t know a thing about Zayn.
He didn’t normally do things like that, because he thought too much, put too much worry into everything. If he had been thinking more straight when he’d met Zayn, none of this would have happened. And he couldn’t find it in himself to really regret it.
“Here,” Zayn said when he returned a moment later. He passed Liam a damp cloth. “You don’t look like the type of guy to fuck and run, but still. I don’t have to worry about you ducking out while I make us coffee, right?”
“Right,” Liam agreed, sitting up. “I wasn’t planning on going yet. Unless you wanted me to, that is.”
“Definitely not,” Zayn said with a grin. “But, if you do get dressed, leave the shirt off.”
Liam looked down at his chest with a frown, but when he looked back up Zayn was gone. He sighed and cleaned himself off a bit before pulling on his boxers and pants. He held his shirt in his hand for a long moment and then put it back on the floor. He didn’t know what to do with the cloth, so he got up and hung it on the knob of the closet door.
Liam perched on the edge of the bed, wondering what the hell was going to happen now. He had a lot of questions involving how the hell Louis and Zayn knew each other, and whether or not Danielle thought he was a prick (not that he would be devastated if she did, but still, she had been nice and he hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings) and if this was just a one time thing.
When Zayn came back again, this time he had two coffee mugs in one hand, a cigarette tucked behind his ear the way he had with his pen at the restaurant, a DVD in his other hand, and a lighter hanging out of his mouth. Zayn silently passed him one of the coffees and put the other on the side table before placing the lighter and cigarette beside it.
“The Dark Knight Rises ?” Zayn asked, holding up the DVD.
Liam frowned at it. “How did you know--?”
“Louis,” Zayn answered, moving towards the TV. Liam hadn’t noticed the DVD player sitting on top of it until then. “Said you were a fan. Lucky enough, so am I.”
“How do you two know each other?” Liam asked as Zayn put in the DVD and turned on the television.
Zayn sat up higher on the bed than Liam, and Liam stood up and moved to sit beside him. Zayn hit a few buttons on the remote, and the loading screen for the movie came up. He didn’t press play, though.
“Harry’s been my best mate since we were thirteen,” Zayn admitted. “He and Lou come to the restaurant all the time, and the two of them talk you up a bit. I guess I kind of developed a bit of a crush on you, even though I’d never met you.”
“Wait,” Liam said, shaking his head in confusion. “So Louis tricked me into the blind date so that--,”
“I didn’t know,” Zayn corrected quickly. “I just thought you were some hot guy who’d been stood up, but then your date came in and said your name, and I remembered Louis mentioning that you had a blind date that night and it sort of clicked.”
“So then you seduced me into ditching her off and coming home with you,” Liam finished, a reluctant smile on his face. “I feel used.”
“That’s probably more from the sex,” Zayn pointed out.
Liam blushed but said, “Probably right.”
“So,” Zayn dragged out, smirk falling off his face. His eyes searched Liam’s face. “Batman?”
Liam stole the remote from Zayn’s hands and pressed play. “And then maybe tomorrow we can go out and get something for dinner?”
“Or we could go out for breakfast,” Zayn suggested, raising his eyebrows.
Liam swallowed. “Or that.”
-
Two months later, Zayn came home to find Liam on his couch with Mira sitting beside him, her head in his lap. He walked over to his boyfriend and kissed him chastely on the lips before handing his phone to him.
Liam took the phone, frowning, and turned it on. His eyes widened and he dropped it as he scanned the screen. Zayn knew that what Liam had seen was a picture message from Louis with the caption, “Payback’s a bitch, and so are you!”
Liam looked at Zayn, horrified. “Was that a picture of Harry and Louis having--?”
“Mhm,” Zayn confirmed.
“Sometimes I hate them,” Liam groaned.
“We still owe them, though,” Zayn admitted, picking his phone up from where it had landed on the floor.
Liam smiled up at him. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “We kind of do.”