Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1932768.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Zayn_Malik/Liam_Payne
  Character:
      Zayn_Malik, Liam_Payne, Niall_Horan, Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson, Josh
      Devine
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Alternative-Universe, Barebacking, Childhood_Friends, Dirty_Talk,
      First_Love, First_Time, Frottage, Hand_Jobs, High_School_AU, Making_Out,
      Masturbation, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Underage_Drinking, Underage_Smoking,
      Unresolved_Sexual_Tension, Secret_Relationship, Secrets, Slow_Burn, Slut
      Shaming, Smut, Virgin_Zayn
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-10 Completed: 2014-08-10 Chapters: 21/21 Words: 54482
****** Boy Most Likely ******
by saltwatergirl
Summary
     Zayn’s the chair of the abstinence club, Liam’s the last person
     anyone expected to join it.
Notes
     Thank you so much, Equallydestructive for the beta read.
***** Chapter 1 *****
“My mum works at the clinic, she saw the entire thing,” Tiffany whispered as
she leaned in closer to Roberta. “Apparently that girl, Evelyn, was crying. Her
parents were shouting at her ‘cause she wouldn’t tell them who it was.
Eventually she broke down and gave them Liam’s name,” Tiffany paused
dramatically, looking pleased that Roberta was hanging to her every word, “then
her dad left the clinic with amurderous look on his face.”
Zayn gave up any pretence of note-taking. Sitting at the back of every class
had its pros and cons, and today he was experiencing one of the cons; having
front row seats to ‘Previously on Liam Payne’ as Roberta and Tiffany gave their
two cents on the biggest thing to ever happen at Monmouth Secondary High
School. The buzz on the grapevine was that weeks before the new school year
began, golden boy Liam Payne had gotten a girl pregnant, then the girl’s
parents had forced her to have an abortion.
Everyone knew Liam Payne. He held school and inter-county colours in rugby and
cricket. He was a prefect, an academic all-rounder, and a teacher’s pet which
made the scandal even more scandalous. Zayn had never seen anything remarkable
about Liam. The guy was of average height, average built, and hada fondness for
cutting his hair military-short. He also had the tendency of smiling too much.
He was hardly worthy of the adulation he received from students and teachers
alike. Finally everyone was realising that Liam’s golden boots weren’t so
golden after all,which resulted with Zayn’s first hour of the new school year
spent seated at the back of Mr Elliot's geography class listening to Roberta
and Tiffany do what they did best.
“Liam has a black eye,” Roberta whispered while twirling her blonde hair on her
finger. “Evelyn’s dad sure gave him a good going over.”
“S’not like he doesn’t deserve it,” Tiffany said. “And that girl’s a total slag
if you ask me. You’d think that she-’’ Without warning, Mr Elliot turned
around, causing the girls to immediately look down and pretend to be taking
down notes of the stalagmite formation he’d drawn on the board. Mr Elliot’s
eyes roamed around the room slowly. Stopping once, he didn’t detect anything
amiss. He turned back around to resume his writing.
“Liam should know 'no glove, no love’,” Tiffany said, causing Roberta to giggle
into her hands.  Zayn glanced at the clock in front of the class. Barely
fifteen minutes in. He sighed and started to doodle in his geography notebook.
 
                                      ***
The final school bell sounded and Zayn carefully packed his books away. Today
was a Monday and this meant he had an Absolute Club meeting. With last year's
Year 11s  gone off to Sixth Form College, Zayn would be chairing the club, a
task that he was trying not to be apprehensive about. Most people couldn't wrap
their heads around the fact he was a virgin, let alone part of a club where
people vowed to remain virgins until they fell in love. People thought it was
strange or something only girls did. Zayn didn't pay attention to what they
thought; he had never felt the need to answer their rude questions about his
virginity. “Is it because you’re scared?” Sandy, a boy in class, had asked. “Or
you don’t know where to put it?”
Sure it had been awkward when he'd first started attending Absolute meetings.
The other ten members had all been female and Zayn was the only new (and male)
member that year. But that had surprisingly ended up working to his favour
because hanging out every Monday (and sometimes on weekends) with what the
other lads in the school considered fit, ‘sexually unfulfilled birds’ had given
him some sort of street cred. The questions and the lewd jeers had completely
ceased when Eleanor Calder, the founder of the club, took him as her date to
the Winter Formal. After she finished Year 11, she passed the torch to Danielle
Peazer, but Danielle had completed Year 11 and was gone, leaving Zayn as the
longest current member -and by default, its chair.
The club had changed in the years he had been in it. By the end of Year 8, two
boys had joined and the following year, three, and last year, five. This year,
including himself and the eleven girls, there were seventeen Absolute Club
members. This was the most members the club had had since Eleanor had founded
it six years ago.
Mr Winston was the club’s administrator. He was also the only teacher Zayn
liked, mostly because he taught Zayn’s favourite subject; English. He taught it
in a way that Zayn found it enjoyable to the point where he always looked
forward to English period.
When he got to Mr Winston’s class, Zayn peered in to find him seated at his
desk, marking. Zayn knocked on the open door.
“Come in,” Mr Winston called out.
“I’m here to set up for the club meeting,” Zayn said as he dropped his backpack
on one of the student desks.
“Please push all the desks back and set up nineteen chairs in a circle. The
handouts are in the club-box over there. Thanks, Zayn,” Mr Winston said as he
resumed his marking. Zayn pushed the desks and chairs back. Once he had the
chairs set up, Zayn collected the handouts and placed one on each chair. There
were eighteen, one short. Zayn went to his bag and pulled out the club roster.
There were seventeen members and with Mr Winston, it made up eighteen. Zayn
walked back to the circle and picked up the extra chair to return it to the
back.
“We need nineteen chairs,” Mr Winston said.
“I've got seventeen on the roster.”
“We have a new addition,” Mr Winston rested his marking pen on his desk. “Liam
Payne is joining Absolute.”
                                      ***
 
The club meeting was scheduled to start at three and Liam was late. When
everyone had taken a seat, Mr Winston announced that they would wait for
another few minutes. Five minutes passed and Liam was still a no show.
“I think we can proceed with the meeting,” Mr Winston said. He opened his copy
of the handout. “I see new faces joining us. I'd like everyone to introduce
themselves.” There was a loud knock on the door before Liam pushed his head
inside. Everyone turned to look at him and he had the decency to look bashful.
“Uh, sorry. I went to the wrong venue.” Liam glanced around before he saw the
vacant chair and walked towards it, the black eye he sported clearly visible
from across the room.
“Since you’re the newest member, would you like to introduce yourself?” Mr
Winston said. “Afterwards, we'll do the introductions clockwise.”
“I'm Liam. I play rugby, cricket, and I'm in Year 11,” Liam said. The girl next
to him spoke next. Zayn was last and he introduced himself as being in Year 11
and the chair of the club. 
“If you're joining us today then I believe you’re familiar with what Absolute
is about.” Mr Winston balanced his notes on his knee and looked around. “It's a
club for students who wish to wait to be in love before they engage in sexual
intercourse. In this day and age, young people are having sex at a younger and
younger age. They’re often not emotionally mature enough for it and most of
them do regret having done so. This club is a safe environment where we have
candid conversations about sex and provide you with tools that you can use in
real life to maintain your vow of abstinence.” Zayn sneaked a glance at Liam
who was looking at Mr Winston with keen interest before he glanced away again.
Mr Winston was still speaking. “If you have already engaged in sexual
intercourse, we’ll teach you why sexual abstinence might be something you can
consider in the future.” Mr Winston gave Zayn a nod.
“The club meets every Monday in this classroom,” Zayn said. “There’ll be a few
projects that we’ll take on that might occur over weekends or other school
days, we'll inform you of these closer to the dates. At the end of the school
year we have a ceremony where the club members make formal pledges and these
rings,” he held up his left hand where he wore a silver purity ring, “will be
handed out. Let’s open to page two of the handout.”
 
                                      ***
After the club meeting, some of the new students lingered, asking him and Mr
Winston questions about Absolute. Once done, he left Mr Winston's class to find
Liam waiting for him in the hallway. Zayn pulled his backpack straps tight
across his chest as Liam walked up to him.
“How was your first meeting?” Zayn asked. Liam fell in step with him as they
walked towards the exit.
“Different from what I expected.” Liam held open the door and Zayn walked
through it.
“Why is that?” Zayn asked as they walked down the steps. The front entrance was
completely deserted as school had ended three hours ago.
“I expected more heavy handed lectures about why sex is evil,” Liam said. “But
that wasn’t the case.”
Zayn shifted his feet. “I'm going that way.” He pointed down the street to the
general direction of his house.
“I'll walk with you,” Liam said. He started to walk where Zayn had pointed.
“Why?” Zayn asked as he followed after him.
“I live two blocks from your house.”
“No, you don't.”
“You live on Mulberry Lane, in that house with the blue roof tiles. There are
two pink bikes on the front lawn,” Liam said as they walked out the front gate.
“Yes, how do you know that?”
“I live two blocks from your house. My family moved about two years back. Oh,
and our mums are friends.” Liam spoke as if all of this was matter-of-fact.
Zayn yanked off his school tie and stuffed it into his bag. He dug out a
cigarette all throughout aware of Liam watching him. “You smoke?” Zayn didn't
answer, choosing instead to light his cigarette and take a deep drag.
“Hey Zayn, can I ask you a question?”
Zayn exhaled and watched Liam through the cloud of smoke. Here it goes. He’d
been waiting for this question ever since Liam decided that they should get
better acquainted. “Ask ahead.”
“Why did you join Absolute?”
“You mean, why am I a virgin?” Zayn took another drag of his cigarette and blew
to his side so Liam wasn't hit with second-hand smoke. Liam nodded. “Are you in
a hurry to get home?”
“Huh?” The confusion on Liam's face was amusing.
“I want to show you something. Will your mother send out a search party if
you're delayed?”
“My parents won't be home until seven,” Liam said.
“Good. Follow me.” Zayn led Liam off the main road. They cut through the houses
to get to the path that led into the woods that were ubiquitous in their small
town. They walked until the sounds of cars grew more muted and all around them
was thick greenery. The flora was plush and fragrant, filling the air with a
dense scent of aging summer. The earth was so moist, Zayn's shoes sunk in deep
with every step he took.
After they had been hiking for ten minutes, Liam asked, “Where are we going?”
“You'll see,” Zayn retorted, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “We're almost
there.” They made a turn, revealing the clearing up ahead. Zayn removed his
backpack and dropped it to the ground before he got to his knees and started
brushing away at the leaves and twigs he'd arranged to cover the metal lid of
the nuclear fallout shelter. “If you're like me, then you've probably heard
stories from your gran about how this town was a safe-zone for city kids during
World War II. There were dozens of shelters built around the country sides in
case of any aerial attacks. This past summer I found one.” Zayn settled back on
his haunches as the metal lid was exposed.
“That's a World War II fallout shelter?” Liam kneeled beside Zayn. “Have you
been inside it yet?”
“Yeah, but just the main hall.” Zayn found the rusty iron handle and pulled
until the lid began to give. He reached for his backpack, pulled out his
iPhone, turned the flashlight on, and guided the beam inside the shelter’s
entrance. “The rest of the sections are sealed off.” Zayn pulled his backpack
back on, placed his cellphone in the front pocket of his school shirt with its
beam faced outward, and began to descend down into the shelter.
“Wait, wait,” Liam said grabbing Zayn's arm. His grip was tight, his palms
warm. Zayn wanted to shake him off, but instead he gave Liam a pointed look.
Liam let go of him and held his hands out. “How safe is it? I mean we don't
know what's down there.”
“I've been down a few times.” Zayn jumped up and down on the steel steps. Liam
started to reach for his arm again before he stopped.
“Please don't do that. That ladder is bouncing too much.” Liam said. Just
because it was fun to watch Liam Payne, big time rugby player, get flustered
because a ladder was wobbling, Zayn bounced on it again.
“It's safe. Come down after me.” Zayn climbed down the ladder rungs until he
was jumping distance from the concrete floor of the shelter. He jumped down and
once he had gained his balance, he went to the corner to light the fluorescent
camp light he kept there. He then watched Liam hesitantly climb in.  Once Liam
had stepped off the ladder, Zayn handed him the light.
“It's much bigger than I imagined.” Liam craned his head, looking up at the
circle of light haloing where they had entered. He was right. The ladder steps
were about twelve feet high and the main room was twenty feet wide. The iron
door that led off to other components was sealed, preventing Zayn from fully
exploring the shelter this past summer. Zayn went to the corner where he turned
on the other florescent camp light.
“Did you draw that?” Liam asked from behind him. Zayn turned around to see Liam
inspecting a mural Zayn had spray-painted on the wall weeks ago.
“Yeah.”
“It's really good.” The soft awe in Liam’s voice made Zayn’s face flush. Zayn
busied himself by pulling out the tin of biscuits he kept in his supply bag. He
spread a blanket on the floor and sat down before calling out to Liam.
“Do you want some biscuits?” Zayn asked. Liam nodded, approached and sank down
next to him before taking one biscuit. “So, you want to know why I'm doing the
whole abstinence thing?”
“I know it's a personal question and we're not really friends and it’s quite
rude of me to—”
“No, it's all right. You're not the first to ask.” Zayn shifted until he was
seated more comfortably. “I thought it was quite strange myself when I heard
about the club. But it all sort of made sense, like, the idea of saving
yourself for someone special. I mean, my parents met when they were young and
they've never dated other people. When they’re together it's like no one else
exists. You can tell by looking at them that their have this connection and I
want to have a relationship like that.”
“Why’d you bring me here?” Liam asked, looking around the shelter.
“During times of war, suicide rates go down. Edgar C Whisenant declared the
world was ending in 1988 and people were lining up to get married,” Zayn said
while he crushed his biscuit in his palm. “A few decades ago, guys our age were
expected to go to war. If you don’t have someone you love absolutely, then
what’s the point?” Zayn stole a glance at Liam who was staring at him. They
both looked away.
“You're so different from what I expected,” Liam said, filling the silence that
had fallen over them.
“How so?”
Liam gave a shrug. “I don't know. I just thought you'd be more... preachy.”
“Preachy?” Zayn raised an incredulous eyebrow at that. He'd been called a lot
of things in his life. Preachy was certainly not one of them. “I think people
should decide how to live their own lives.”
“Aren't you going to ask me why I joined Absolute?” Liam was tracing patterns
in the dust of the concrete floor with his fingertips; small little circles,
then spirals.
“Uhh, I might’ve heard something at school today,” Zayn said falteringly. There
was something in the defeated stance of Liam's shoulder that made him not want
to bring up what he’d heard. People had a way of blowing things out of
proportion.
“I got a girl pregnant.” Liam's voice was a whisper. He traced a square in the
dust. “Her parents talked her into having an abortion and the principal and
school counsellor figured the only way I could be ‘rehabilitated’ was to join
Absolute.”
“That-” Zayn was unsure what to say. Sucks? Blows? Is unfortunate? He cleared
his throat and tried again. “The club isn't as boring as people think it is.
You'll see.”
“I figure it's not the worst way to spend a Monday afternoon.” Liam reached for
the biscuits with his clean hand. “Tell me more about it.”
Passing the tin of biscuits back and forth between them, Zayn filled Liam in
about the club.
***** Chapter 2 *****
The next day, Zayn had chemistry first period. Like in all of his classes, he
sat in the back and tried to do as little as he could. Compared to the other
teachers in the school, Mrs Foster was all right. She genuinely liked her
subject and was animated and engaging as she explained that in Year 11 all of
her students were expected to complete a science project. They would be
partnered up and the best project would win a prize. When no one seemed too
impressed by that, she read out the teams. Zayn listened out for his name.
“Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson,” she said, looking up before she continued on
reading out the names. Louis Tomlinson was seated up front in the class and he
turned around, displeasure of the pairing evident on his face. “Now everyone go
and sit with your partner and take down the project details.” Zayn remained
rooted in his seat as other students stood and moved around. Louis watched him
for a moment before he gave a loud theatrical sigh and moved to sit in the
chair beside him.
“Would it have killed you to move to the front?” Louis said, squinting at the
board.
“No. I happen to like sitting in the back.” Zayn took out a blank notebook.
“I sit in the front for a reason. I can barely read from here.” Louis stopped
squinting and turned to face Zayn. “I hope you won't mind taking notes for me
for the remainder of the term.”
“I don't take notes.” Zayn pulled out a pen and began to doodle all too aware
of Louis gaping at him.
“But you always get top marks.”
Zayn tapped the side of his head. “I listen.” The picture he was drawing looked
too much like a certain rugby player. Zayn turned the page and began to draw a
new character, someone whose eyes weren't a warm shade of brown and crinkled at
the corner when they smiled. Someone whose voice wasn't surprisingly deep and
engaging.
Hanging out with Liam was a bad idea. They were very different. Liam played
sports. He had a huge group of friends. He got girls pregnant. Zayn wasn't
supposed to even like him. He’d made that vow to himself when they started Year
9 and Liam had returned to school, all tan arms and broad shoulders. Then
again, Liam wasn’t the boy-next-door as advertised by the plaques that lined
the school halls.
“You got that?” Louis was obnoxiously clicking his fingers in front of Zayn’s
face.
“What?” Zayn pushed his hand away.
“The project details are up. Take them down.” Louis' blue eyes were frosty.
Zayn closed his notebook and placed his pen down. “No.”
“No?” Louis narrowed his eyes. “I'm on my way to being the school’s dux. I'm
the Head Boy and the captain of this school’s cricket team. I don't do that for
shits and giggles but because I need to get into Cardiff Sixth Form College. So
'no' doesn't cut it when it’s in the way of my A in chemistry.”
Zayn rolled his eyes. This boy was way too tightly strung. He opened his book
and began to jot down the project detais. He tore the page and gave it to
Louis. “Happy?”
“Malik, when you're still in high school, no one's ever happy.” Louis scanned
through the page. “It seems simple enough. You know what? I'll do the entire
thing myself. You can go brood or whatever it is you do.”
Zayn ignored him, choosing to open a new page and draw cartoon characters
because that seemed better than pulling up his middle finger at the Head Boy.
 
                                      ***
Lunchtime arrived and Zayn trudged through the too crowded, too loud canteen.
He never sat inside but outside in the closed off lunch area. He made his way
out to his spot as swiftly as he could.
He hadn't seen Liam since yesterday. They were in different streams, sharing
only two classes, French and mathematics, which meant eventually their paths
would cross this afternoon. Zayn didn't want to bump into Liam in the canteen
where Liam might greet him or God forbid, invite him to sit at his table of
merry bastards. Louis Tomlinson wasn’t his cup of tea, as his grandmother would
say, and the prospect of sitting with him was unappealing
Then there was Harry Styles who wasn't that bad on a one-to-one basis. He and
Harry had known each other since childhood, having attended the same Pre-
Primary and Primary schools. Before Year 7, they’d been good friends, but then
Harry had met Louis and that had been the end of their friendship. They still
waved and exchanged casual words whenever they happened to see each other.
He pushed the canteen doors, hearing them slam shut behind him. Niall's blond
head was bent over a table, sharpie out, as he added more writing to the
already graffiti abundant table. Zayn placed his lunchbox on the table and sat
down.
“No greetings or anything?” Niall said as he looked up, his Irish accent still
thick when drawing out the Ts. Niall's parents divorced, his dad received a job
offer in town and they moved here. Niall met Harry who’d introduced Niall to
Zayn, then the three of them had hung out throughout the summer before Year 7.
Then high school began, Louis happened, and Harry started finding excuses not
to hang out with them. He’d been the only reason why Niall and Zayn were
friends because, apart for their appreciation for Harry Styles’ oddly funny
jokes, they didn’t have much in common, but then Niall took up the guitar and
they discovered their shared love for music, which cemented their friendship.
The two of them had been best friends ever since.
“Hello, Niall,” Zayn deadpanned.
“Hello,” Niall retorted. “I heard you’re partnering up with Tommo for the Year
11 chemistry project.” People really loved to gossip at this school.
“It's more like an arranged marriage. Plus, Louis has decided that he'll do all
the work so…” Zayn shrugged.
“So you'll get marks for jam, basically?” Niall reached into Zayn's lunch box
and picked up a chip and ate it.
“Living the dream.” Zayn pulled his lunch box closer to his side of the table,
out of Niall's reach.
“What’re you doing after school?” Niall picked up the sharpie and started to
draw on the table again.
“Not much, why?”
“I'm working on a song. I basically have the melody, but I need your help with
the lyrics. You're good with poetry and shit.”
Zayn finished eating his chips and bit into his hamburger nodding
noncommittally. “I’ll come round to yours and we'll work through it.”
 
                                      ***
When Zayn entered his maths class, he saw Liam seated at the far left, next to
the window. Liam gave him a non-perceptible chin nod. Zayn averted his eyes and
went to his chair in the back.
                                      ***
Zayn waited for Niall outside the school gates, fiddling with his school tie.
At the end of each school day, his fingers itched to get the rid of the damn
thing. His wait wasn’t long and he soon spotted Niall approaching the door,
chatting to Josh, a boy from Year 9. They lingered. Josh was grinning widely
the entire time before he waved goodbye to Niall who was finally making his way
towards Zayn.
They walked together out the school gate, past parents who sat in non-descript
sedans, basic grown-up music playing on their car radios, faces bored and
expressionless as they waited for children that were still laughing and
chatting with their friends. Soon, the students would file out into different
directions and the road would clear out until tomorrow morning and then it
would be déjà vu all over again. It was all so unremarkable and predictable.
People were predictable—that was, until they got a girl pregnant.
It was a short walk because Niall lived depressingly close to the school. They
reached Niall’s house and walked up the front lawn.
“Josh plays the drums and he's looking to start a band,” Niall said, opening
the small iron gate for Zayn. He unlocked the front door to the side garage
where Niall had set up his equipment and switched the garage light on. “That's
why I was talking to him.” It was strange that Niall had waited all this time
to say that, but Zayn nodded as he dropped his bag on the floor and sat down on
the sofa.
The Horans didn't have a family car so the garage had become a space for Niall
to play music. They also used it to store things that they had not much use for
and intended to throw away. Why anyone would want to throw this sofa was beyond
Zayn - it was so comfy. He felt around underneath to where he kept his stash of
ciggies and matches. After lighting up, he laid his head back and exhaled,
looking up into the water-logged ceiling.
“Okay, let me hear it.” Zayn took another drag, closing his eyes and he heard
the first string of Niall's guitar. It was soft, hesitant, and slow. Niall
played for a while until he faded off. When Zayn opened his eyes, he found
Niall sitting on a suitcase box of old vinyls, head bent low to the guitar in
his lap. “I like it,” Zayn said. “It's subdued and yet I feel like it has
potential to go all out.” Niall looked up and smiled. He was pleased. Zayn
could tell by the glimmer in his eyes and the pink flush on his neck.
“Can you write some lyrics for it?” Niall asked. Zayn got up and rummaged in
his backpack, cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth. He pulled out his
notebook, opened a new page, and grabbed his Bic ballpoint pen.
“Play it again,” Zayn said. As Niall played, he jotted down words. Before Mr
Winston, Zayn hadn’t thought of his poetry as anything great, but then Mr
Winston had started taking him for English and praised Zayn on his work, giving
him the highest marks in the class. Niall had also read his work and he too had
seemed impressed. It always embarrassed Zayn to read what he wrote, but the
praise he received had encouraged him to write more. After his work got
published in the school gazette, he had began to flirt with the idea of writing
professionally once he was done with Uni.
Zayn handed the page over to Niall who read through it. “It's different from
the other stuff you've written,” Niall said, lips moving, as he read through
it. He looked up at Zayn once he was done, a slightly confused frown creasing
his forehead. “It's a love song.”
Zayn reached for his notebook, but Niall kept it away from him, his frown gone
and glee ever so apparent on the widening panes of his mouth. Zayn said, “No,
it's not.”
“Yes, it is. 'listen to the sound of our hearts beating, so young, so young yet
this spark isn't fleeting’.” Niall was chortling. Zayn hoped he would choke.
“Seriously, Horan, give me my notebook back.” Zayn held out his hand.
“Why? So you can write more love songs?” Niall began to page through the book.
Zayn sprang up and snatched the book so hard one of the pages tore.
“There's private stuff in there,” Zayn said as explanation when Niall was still
looking at him mouth agape. “Do you want the song lyrics or not?”
“Yes.” Niall picked his guitar up. “Can you sing while I play?”
“I don't really-”
“Don't act all shy, like you don't know you have a good voice.” Niall strummed
once, dragging the chord. “I want to work through it before I play it for
Josh.”
“You're going to play it for Josh?”
Niall stopped playing. “We're starting a band, remember?”
“Yeah, I just thought it was a hypothetical maybe thing in the far off distant
future,” Zayn said as he tore out the page he'd written the lyrics. He tore it
quickly, leaving a large portion of the sheet still embedded in the interior
spine of the notebook.
“His dad is in a proper band, so he has all this equipment at his house.” Niall
played the first chord. “So, are we playing the song or what?” Zayn raised the
page, reading the lines. It wasn't a love song. He waited for Niall to reach
the starting point and began to sing.
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
School remained fairly bearable until Friday when the gossip millers started up
again. Geography ended and Zayn was making his way to chemistry when he saw a
large group of people heading towards the school hall. Crowds that large
usually meant assembly, but it was half way through the school day.  Feeling
curious Zayn followed three giggling girls that were reading texts from their
phones.
Zayn craned his neck, but he couldn't see anything. A group of students were
bunched together, blocking his view. Eventually he made his way to the front
and saw. Hung up from the light beams was a pair of pink knickers. Next to them
was a sign with large crude text that read: ‘School Head Girl? More like school
head slut.’
Zayn shook his head and was about to leave when Sophia, the school Head Girl,
ran into the hall, her eyes brimming with tears. A group of girls sniggered as
she walked up the steps to the stage. She gave her best netball jump, trying to
get the poster down but her fingertips barely reached.
“They mustbelong to her,” Roberta said behind Zayn.
“You'd think that she, of all people, would know better than to shag Liam,” her
friend said and they sniggered again. “I guess she was putting the head in Head
Girl.”
“She looks like she’s gonna hyperventilate,’’ someone said behind him.
On the stage, Sophia had taken off her school blazer in an attempt to reach
higher. Despite that, she still couldn't reach the poster. More people walked
in and an excited buzz of voices filled the assembly hall. Zayn calmly walked
up to the front, taking the steps in twos to get onto the stage. He leapt up
once and pulled down the poster before handing it to Sophia. She took it from
him and walked out the hall to the crescendo of students’ boo-ing and
catcalling. He was walking back down the stairs, heading to the door, when
Sandy, Josh’s older brother, blocked his path.
“Way to ruin the fun, Malik,” Sandy said.
“Fuck off,’’ Zayn said and pushed him out the way. Halfway to chemistry, Zayn’s
phone buzzed. He pulled it out his pocket and checked; an unfamiliar number was
calling him.
“Hello?” He answered as he ducked his head, hoping he wouldn't get spotted by a
teacher or one of the school prefects. Having his phone confiscated was the
last thing he needed.
“Zayn?” He recognised that voice. Zayn stopped walking and pressed his phone
closer to his ear.
“Uh, Liam? I don't know how you have my number,” Zayn said and the instant
those words left his mouth, he felt like a proper idiot.
“Your mum gave my mum the number when I asked for it. I need to talk to you,
like, face-to-face.”
'“We can meet up after scho-”
“It's urgent. Can we do it now?” Liam said. Zayn glanced down the hall.
Chemistry meant sitting next to Louis—for an hour. Not exactly the highlight of
his day.
“Meet me outside Mrs Miller’s classroom. I know a place we can talk.” Zayn
turned and headed to the other side of the school. By the time he got there,
students were no longer filling the hallways and the risk of being found by an
errant prefect or teacher had increased. Zayn looked around and couldn’t see
any sign of Liam. He was about to text him when he saw Liam approaching.
Liam's school shirt was neatly pressed as always and his tie pulled into the
perfect half-Windsor knot. His hands were pressed deep into his uniform
trousers as he walked quickly toward Zayn.
“Follow me,” Zayn said. He walked off the corridor and behind the school
building. They were definitely in the red zone and would get immediate
detention if discovered. Loitering in the hallways between classes was strictly
prohibited and so was smoking, unscholarly behaviour, alcohol consumption, and
cussing of any variety. Zayn liked to think he had broken each of those rules
at least twice by now, not that he bragged about that sort of thing.
He led Liam to his favourite spot on the school grounds. It was a little known
enclosure behind Mrs Miller’s classroom and the perimeter fence. When they got
to the enclosure he pushed the gate away from the wall and held it for Liam to
climb over. Once Liam was over, Zayn followed, got over the fence, dropped his
backpack on the floor, and sat on an old theatre seat kept there. Liam looked
around before he took his bag and placed it carefully onto a nearby school
chair before he sat.
“You saw what happened with Sophia?” Liam began, eyes downcast as he fiddled
with his backpack straps. His black eye had begun to fade. “It was my fault. I
met up with her yesterday after cricket practice. I told a mate of mine about
it and he must’ve told other people. I don't know how they broke into my gym
locker and got her um—I don't know why they did that to her.”
“I'm not sure if I'm the best person to speak to about this,” Zayn said.
“But you are. I read through the Absolute stuff and I was thinking about what
you said the other day. I don't want to be the type of person who does these
things. I need to start afresh and you can help me.”
“Liam, you don't make a pledge like that just because you're feeling guilty.”
Liam tightened the grip on the straps when Zayn spoke.
“This isn't just me feeling guilty. I want to change,” Liam said. He released
the straps and spoke directly to Zayn. “I'll be in college next year and in Uni
after that. I hate to think what I'll be like when I don't have parental
supervision or my real friends around me. I need to get it together.”
“And you think I'm the person who'll help you with that?” Zayn sat back,
itching for a cigarette but he was all out. “I’m not exactly Mr Social. I can't
tolerate most of the people in this school while you're a prefect and best
friends with the Head Boy.”
“You don't care about what people think, you don't conform, and you have the
whole abstinence thing. It’s just impressive, really.” Liam ducked his head
down.
“I'm hardly a role model,” Zayn said.
“And I try too hard to be,” Liam said. Zayn stared down at the ring on his left
hand. Absolute was about choosing to wait for someone that you could commit to,
absolutely. He recognised the lost look in Liam’s eyes - it was the same he’d
seen in his own. Who else would help Liam? The school had basically absolved
itself of him by sentencing him to the club. At least this way Liam could find
a reason to stay in Absolute beyond his mandatory one term.
“Okay, wait for me after school,” Zayn said, causing Liam to look up quickly,
incredulity apparent on his face. “Don't look so surprised that I'm agreeing to
this. I’m the chair of the club and you’re a member now. I can’t say no if you
need extra help.’’ Actually, he could have, but semantics and all that. “I've
got some material from last year that I can start working through with you
before the next club meeting.’’
 
                                      ***
After school, Liam was already waiting for him at the school gate. He stood
with his hands shoved deep in his blazer pocket as students ran by him, excited
to start their weekend. Zayn walked towards Liam and greeted him.
“I figured we could go to the shelter,” Zayn said, coming to a halt in front of
Liam. The students around them were rather loud so he raised his voice much
higher than he normally would. “Is that all right with you?”
“That's fine,” Liam said, turning to face the busy road in front of the school.
They veered from the crowds by taking a path that led towards the woods. As
soon as they were out of sight, Zayn pulled off his tie and stuffed it into his
bag. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the ridiculous style he wore
it in for school. Last year he’d been sent home with a copy of the school dress
code and a letter from the principle explaining why he was contravening it.
Something about his hair being too big. Rubbish, if you asked him. But nobody
did, so he cut his hair and kept it boring.
“You really don't like wearing that thing,” Liam said from beside him. The guy
still had his blazer on, tie neatly pulled in and his shirt collar folded just
right. There wasn’t an errant piece of lint on him.
“No, I don't. In fact I hope to find a job where I never have to wear a tie.”
Zayn pushed back a branch that was jutting out in the way and waited for Liam
to make his way underneath it.
“There aren't too many of those available,” Liam said.
“Maybe in the professions you're looking at.”
Liam glanced at him. “What do you want to do once you're finished with school?”
“A bachelors in English and maybe a post-grad in education if my writing career
doesn't take off.” They were close to the clearing now. Zayn could see the bend
that led to the shelter entrance. “What do you want to do?”
“Play rugby for as long as I can.”
“Are you thinking of going pro?”
“I'd like to, but I don't think I can.”
It was Zayn's turn to glance at Liam, eyebrow raised. “Why? You're the best
player the school has had in years.”
“But this is high school. Take me out of this setting and I'm Tinkerbell next
to those guys. I’ll play for my Uni's team, but after that, probably not.”
“So, what do you plan to fall back on?”
Liam shrugged. “I don't know. There are so many things I could go into. I’ll
have to choose carefully ’cause I get bored easily.” They reached the clearing
and Liam assisted Zayn in pulling the cast iron lid of the shelter. Zayn turned
on the flashlight on his iPhone and descended down the ladder. When he reached
the bottom, Liam followed him down. Zayn turned on the camping lights and sat
down on the blanket. Liam sat down as well, stretching out his legs in front of
himself, while Zayn criss-crossed his legs.
“I’m not sure what to expect,” Liam said.
“Well, that’s good because I’m not sure what to do.” Zayn opened his backpack
and took out the administrator guidebook. “What do you hope to achieve from
this?”
“I don’t want to sleep around anymore.” Liam pulled his legs and crossed his
arms over them, hugging them against his chest. He looked at the thin book Zayn
was holding. “What’s that?”
“It’s the guidebook for the Absolute programme. There are some questions we
normally run by new members.” Zayn opened the book. “But due to the meetings
being cut-down, we’ve stopped in recent years. I thought I could go through the
questionnaire with you. But first, would you have ever thought of joining if
you weren’t forced into it by the school counselor?”
“Not really,” Liam answered. He hurried on to add, “but that doesn’t mean I’m
not going to fully commit to the programme and learn as much as I can from the
club and from you.”
Zayn paged to the questionnaire in Chapter One. Sexual History. “Uh, so can we
discuss your sexual history?”
Liam gave a nod. “We can do that.”
“How many sexual partners have you had?” Zayn felt himself blush as he read out
the question. This was easy with new members because the answer was usually
zero. Doing this with Liam felt weird and awkward. The fact his voice sounded
reasonably steady was a feat.
“Seven,” Liam said quietly.
Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Seven? That’s um- never mind. At what age did you lose
your virginity?”
“Uh, I was eleven.”
Zayn was staring. He knew he was. Liam wouldn’t look at him. So he had to stop
staring. But, eleven? At age eleven, Zayn had been playing Pac man with Harry
at the town’s arcade and Niall hadn’t moved to town yet. He hadn’t even had his
first kiss and he didn’t even know what sex entailed let alone be having it. He
glanced at the questionnaire then back at Liam when a thought came to mind. It
was an ugly prospect to contemplate because something like that couldn’t happen
to Liam because he was so...
“Was it consensual?” Zayn asked. Liam glanced at him, brown eyes sharp. Zayn
faltered. “It wasn’t, like, forced?”
“It was nothing of the sort.” Liam was frowning, thick eyebrows burying into
one another.
“But eleven–that’s young. Too young.” An image of Harry and himself at eleven
came to mind. Skinny, concaved-chested and gangly-limbed. Hardly anything
sexual about their bodies.
Children in the proper sense of the word.
“We all start somewhere, right?” Liam said, the words forcibly casual.
“But still.” Zayn remembered Liam at age eleven. He’d had the same ugly buzz
cut, his face fuller than it was now. He was a kid smiling shyly at the back of
his class photos. Zayn glanced at the list of questions and cleared his throat.
“How do you normally feel after sex?”
“Good.”
“How so?”
“I feel relaxed. You know the feeling after a really good workout?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t exercise.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.” Zayn then asked the next question. “How do you feel about your sexual
partner after sex?”
“I usually want to get away from them.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t want to be around them anymore.” Liam looked at Zayn. “That sounds
awful. You must think I’m a dreadful person.”
Zayn shook his head. “I think it tells a lot more that you’re here talking to
me. It means you want to change. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Mr
Winston or Nurse Fields?”
“I feel more comfortable around you. Plus you know the curriculum, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m just a student. You might need a grown-up to help.”
“Grown-ups always expect more from me. You should have seen them at that
meeting on Monday.” Liam started to tap his legs as he spoke. “Principle Woods,
my parents, Nurse Fields, and even my rugby coach, all ganging up on me. All so
very disappointed. Liam, why? Not you, never you. You’re better than this. But
guess what? I’m not.”
Zayn looked down at his book, so he could do something besides stare at Liam.
It was strange, Liam Payne, the boy that every parent probably wished their
child was more like, was so different from what he had imagined. Behind the
happy-go-lucky façade was a landmine of resentment and anger. Liam really
wasn’t any different from himself. He was just more adept at hiding it.
“Do you use contraceptives when you engage in sexual intercourse?” Zayn read
out.
“Not consistently,” Liam said. “Most of the girls I slept with were older than
me and if they said they were on the pill I just went along with it.”
Zayn sighed. “Liam, you know there are greater risks to having unprotected sex
than pregnancy.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not stupid.” Liam unwrapped his arms from around his legs
and stretched out.
“No, you’re not. Just reckless.”
“You know what, Zayn? I’m not here so you can feel all superior just because
you aren’t a screw-up as much as I am.”
“I don’t feel superior. I’m just concerned that you’ve put yourself in these
situations where things could happen that a trip to a family planning clinic
won’t resolve. I’m not going to linger on this topic too long today because
there is a week in the curriculum where we cover STIs.  So we can move on to
the next question.” Zayn turned the page. There weren’t any more questions.
“That was the last one.” Zayn closed the book. “Do you have any questions for
me?”
Liam nodded. “Can you tell me what exactly will be covered in the Absolute club
in the next couple weeks? Mr Winston didn’t spend much time on that.”
Zayn thought about it for a moment. “Well, we’ve done chapter one. The second
chapter, Human Sexuality, will be covered on Monday and then we spend a few
weeks discussing peer pressure, watch a few abstinence talks, STI education,
and then we do abstinence exercises, write an essay, do community projects and
finally the club members make their pledge.”
“What are abstinence exercises?”
“It’s where we act out a scenario where someone pressures you for sex and we
provide tools on how you can navigate your way out of that type of situation.
We also call them abstinence drills - the two terms are interchangeable. Some
of them are quite fun.”
“Can we do one now?” Liam asked.
Zayn unfolded his legs to pull them up to his chest, mimicking Liam’s earlier
stance. “Uhh, we could. I’m just not sure it would work.” Liam’s eyebrows
furrowed in that frown he loved so much. Zayn’s fingers twitched because he
wanted  to smooth out the creases on Liam’s forehead. He elaborated further.
“The club normally pairs up its members into co-ed teams.”
“I still can’t see why we can’t do it now,” Liam said.
“I’m not the type of person you’d sleep with so declining sexual overtures from
me would be easy,” Zayn said. Liam smiled at that, flashing white teeth in the
semi-darkness of the shelter.
“Actually, you sort of are,” Liam said softly. Zayn inhaled too sharply, the
dank earthy smell of the shelter crowding his nostrils. Liam continued,
“someone I would sleep with, that is.”
After a long while Zayn said, “I don’t think drills are a good idea.”
Liam shrugged. “Then what do you suggest we do?”
Zayn handed him the book. “Read over the first chapter. If you have any
questions, ask me.”
Liam took the book and began to read. Zayn sat back watching him. It was a bad
idea to be here with Liam. Alone. But Liam needed his help and Zayn couldn’t
say no. Besides, even if Liam was into boys, that didn’t automatically mean he
was into Zayn.
***** Chapter 4 *****
“You’re doing what?” Niall put down his pen and gaped at Zayn, like Zayn had
grown a second head.
“I’m helping Liam with the abstinence programme,” Zayn repeated.
“I thought you hated him.”
“You know what I say about that word.”
“Hate’s a strong word blah blah and if you could hate someone blah blah it’d be
Louis Tomlinson.” Niall rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why Liam would
join Absolute. Isn’t it a little too late for?”
“The club believes it’s never too late to pledge.” Zayn glanced down at the
mathematics textbook he was supposed to be reading. Inviting Niall over to do
some Sunday afternoon studying had seemed like a good idea. Niall was naturally
astute at maths. But he was also easily distracted so instead of studying, he’d
wanted to talk about the weekend, which had led to Zayn mentioning Liam and
their trip to the shelter on Friday.
“What was it like hanging out in your secret fallout shelter with Mr Payne?”
“We were working through the Absolute guidebook. Hardly fun times.” Zayn looked
up at Niall. “Aren’t we supposed to be studying and not talking about Liam?”
“Studying is boring,” Niall said. Zayn wished he could disagree, but Niall was
right.
“You’re supposed to be a good influence on me.”
Niall chuckled at that. “I think we corrupt each other.”
“My attempts to make you a smoker have failed and so have my attempts to get
you to ink up that pasty skin. How, exactly, have I corrupted you?” Zayn asked.
Niall sat back on his chair, leaning his head against his hands.
“There’s that time you made us bunk off school so you could go get tattoos.
Then there’s that time you convinced me to hijack Greg’s car for a joyride. You
told me it would be, how did you put it, ‘sick’. You also had me steal liquor
from my dad’s cabinet to get drunk, which was on a school day and therefore
involved more bunking.”
Zayn snorted. “Everyone has bunked off at least once. It’s a rite of passage.”
“It’s also a very serious offence at Monmouth.” Niall swivelled on his chair.
“What did you and Liam talk about?”
“Uhh, club curriculum. Boring stuff. Help me with these equations.” Zayn opened
his notebook and tried to read. “I need to pass maths.” Niall paged to the next
set of trig equations.
“In example three, how would you solve for X?” Niall said. Zayn picked up his
pen and attempted the question, shoving all thoughts of Liam to the furthest
part of his mind.
                                  *** *** ***
The next morning Zayn was laying in bed, staring at the posters he had up on
his ceiling. The pictures were random things he tore out of his sisters’
magazines. There was a poster of a guy with a septum piercing glaring at the
camera, a model in her underwear walking between rail tracks, and one of
children laughing as they were spun in a merry-go-round. He didn’t know what
attracted him to the pictures, but he found in moments when he was unsure what
to do, he liked to lay back and stare up at them. The idea of seeing Liam at
school was unsettling and Zayn didn’t know why. Liam shouldn’t have the ability
to make him feel flustered and out of it–but he did.
“We’re leaving!” he heard his mum shout. She would be taking his sisters to
school before heading off to work. If he stayed in bed for the rest of the day
she would be none the wiser. It would be so easy to call the school secretary,
imitate his mum’s voice, and tell them that Zayn was sick and wouldn’t be able
to come to school today. Too easy.
Zayn sighed, pushing his blanket aside. He was going to school. He’d save
bunking off for a day when he really needed it.
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn’s morning went by quietly. Geography was first period; not his favourite
class but not the worst. Afterwards he had chemistry. He sat at the back beside
Louis. Mrs Foster told them to read chapter five so he pulled out his chemistry
book, opened to the chapter, and read through it. Once the reading time was
over, Mrs Foster taught the new section and handed out homework for them to do.
When the period ended, he walked out of class, having not spoken a single word
to Louis.
 
                                  *** *** ***
Lunch time arrived and Zayn collected his lunch from his bag. He walked through
the canteen to the back, pushed the exit doors, and froze. Seated opposite
Niall at their table was Josh. Zayn walked over, placing his lunch container on
the table.
“Hi,” Josh said, smiling widely. He had a lunch tray in front of him and Zayn’s
hopes that Josh was there to chat to Niall before scurrying off to his friends
were dashed. Zayn mumbled a response and pulled out a toasted sandwich.
Niall nudged Zayn. “Josh and I are heading over to his house to play the song
you wrote today. Wanna come with?”
“I can’t. I have a club meeting,” Zayn said.
“Oh, I forgot. Okay, maybe next time.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I heard Liam joined Absolute,” Josh said. Zayn shrugged and continued to eat.
If Josh wanted to confirm that bit of gossip he would have to get it from the
source itself. Just as if the thought of Liam had somehow conjured him, the
canteen doors opened and Liam walked out. He was holding a lunch tray and Louis
and Harry were following after him. Zayn frowned down at his food, hoping that
they would walk back into the canteen.
“Hey, guys,” Liam said, he set his tray on the table and sat down next to Josh
and right opposite Zayn. Once again, Zayn mumbled a response. He didn’t
understand. Why was Liam sitting with them?
“Hello,” Niall said brightly, nodding at Harry and Louis who were still
standing. “There’s plenty of room.” Niall shifted closer to Zayn on the bench.
Louis sat next to Liam, while Harry sat next to Niall.
“How’s the chemistry project going?” Niall asked.
“Ask Louis. He’s doing it,” Zayn said.
Louis glared at him. “The project counts for a lot of marks this term.”
“You should let Zayn help. He’s really smart,” Niall said. Zayn smiled at him
and took a bite of his sandwich
“I’m having a party,” Liam said looking at Zayn. “It’s my birthday.”
“Super sweet sixteen,” Harry said. It wasn’t even funny but Niall laughed,
Louis joining in. Liam stared at Zayn.
A response. Liam was waiting for a response. Zayn shifted uncomfortably.
“Um, that sounds nice,” he finally managed. Liam leaned over the table, his
eyes fixed on him.
“Zayn, do you want to come?” Liam asked.
Louis and Harry burst into a laughing fit. “You’re asking the wrong lad, mate,”
Louis said.
“When is it?” Zayn asked.
“The weekend of the twenty-ninth,” Liam said. Two weeks from now. There wasn’t
a way of saying no without coming across as a tosser, not when Liam had asked
him nicely.
“I’ll com—I mean, I’ll attend,” Zayn said.
“Niall, you’re also invited,” Liam said to Niall. Josh took a loud sip of his
juice reminding Liam of his existence. “You too, um uhh…”
“Josh,” Josh said.
“It’s going to be wicked,” Harry said. “Liam throws the best parties.” Zayn
couldn’t remember the last time he’d been invited to a Liam Payne Party; it was
probably back in primary school, back when it was a school rule or something to
invite your schoolmates to your birthday party. The theme was Batman so along
with a mini Batmobile, a real life Batgirl there had been a batwing-shaped
cake. Zayn smiled at the memory. Yes, it was pretty wicked.
                                  *** *** ***
After school, Zayn went to Mr Winston’s class to set up for the day’s club
meeting. Some students were already there, pushing desks to the back of the
class and taking out chairs to make a circle. With the setup work done, Zayn
sat down. Liam arrived and came over to him.
“Hey,” Liam said, even though he had just seen Zayn earlier. He sat on the
chair next to Zayn.
“Hello.” Zayn watched the rest of the students walk in one by one. When the
clock struck three, Mr Winston started the club meeting.
“Because of the troubling news I’ve heard in the teacher’s lounge I’ve decided
to change the way we do things around here,” Mr Winston said. “I understand
that we live in a highly sexualised era, which makes saying no to casual sex
difficult. It’s simple enough to talk about abstinence when you’re sitting here
in a room filled with likeminded people. But out there,” Mr Winston pointed at
the door, “are people who will prey on individuals like you. Today we’ll do
abstinence drills to teach you what to do when you find yourself being
pressured into sex by your boyfriend or girlfriend.” Mr Winston got up to
collect the attendance roster from his desk.
“We have eighteen of you in this class; seven boys and eleven girls,” he said,
going over the roster. “We’ll do the drills in pairs which means some of the
boys will go twice. In your pairs, you’ll try to pressure each other into sex.
Inappropriate language or amorous touching is not allowed. We’ll then discuss
the outcome of the drills. Any questions?” He glanced around the class.
“Um, sir?” A squeaky voice said. It was one of the new students, a boy called
Alistair. “When you say ‘pressure into sex’, what do you mean?”
“You and your allocated partner will act out a dialogue in which you or your
partner tries to convince the other into sex,” Mr Winston said.
Alistair’s pale cheeks coloured. “Ohh.”
“It’s voluntary; students who do not wish to partake can decline.” Mr Winston
looked around. There weren’t any takers. “Okay, the first set of pairings are
as followed.” He read out the first seven pairs. Zayn was partnered with
Perrie, a new student who’d transferred from London. He stood up and met her in
the middle of the circle.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she said, her arms folded across her chest.
“I’ve done these a few times, so I’m a bit of an expert,” Zayn said. “These are
much easier when you don’t have an audience. We can go out to the grounds, if
you want?” He gestured at the door.
“Uh, okay,” Perrie said. Before they walked out, Zayn stole a glance behind him
to see Liam sitting down with Michelle. He led Perrie to the school grounds and
they sat on a bench overlooking the football field.
“Do you want to start now?” Zayn asked.
“Sure.” Perrie said.
“So, we can do a scene where I’m your long-time boyfriend and we’ve just come
home from a date. We’re in a car and I’m trying to talk you into doing it?”
Zayn scooted closer to her.
Perrie nodded. “Okay.”
Zayn dropped his voice low. “You enjoy the movie, babe?”
“Um, yeah.”
“You know what the best part was?”
“Uh, no.”
“Brad Pitt and that bird in the lift.” Zayn threw an arm over Perrie’s shoulder
and leaned in closer to her. “I’d like to do something very similar to you.”
She glanced at him, her cheeks turning pink. She pulled at the hem of her
uniform and said, “I don’t-”
“Shhh,” Zayn whispered, pressing his index fingers to her lips. “People do it
all the time. It’s natural.”
She pulled away and said in a stronger voice. “I want to wait.”
“Waiting is stupid.” Zayn leaned in closer. Perrie pressed her hand squarely on
his chest and pushed him with enough force to have him falling backwards. She
was much stronger than she looked.
“No,” Perrie said.
Zayn chuckled and scooted back to where he had been sitting. “Very good.”
She smiled. “You’re convincing.”
“How so?”
“Your eyes went all…” She flushed and shook her head. “Shoving you away wasn’t
easy.” Zayn didn’t know how to take that, so instead of responding he got up
and led her back to class. He did a drill again with another girl he was
assigned. Afterwards, they convened back in class to discuss the drills with Mr
Winston. Every now and then Mr Winston stopped them to add his observations and
detail what the students should take away. Once he had spoken, he set up the
projector and they watched a TED talk about sexual abstinence titled: The Walk
of Fame vs the Walk of Shame. The meeting closed with a group discussion on
what they had learnt that day and they were given essays to prepare for next
week’s meeting. Zayn was walking out the class when he felt a hand land on his
shoulder.
“Do you want to hang out again?” Liam asked.
“I’m going home.”
“Come on, just for a few hours.”
“I’ve got homework.” Zayn walked to the exit with Liam continuing to follow
after him.
“I’m sure it can wait.” Liam pushed open the school doors for him.
“No, it can’t. I’ve got a test on Thursday. Bye, Liam.” Zayn walked away.
 
 
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
After dinner, Zayn was in his room with his earphones on, listening to music
while he did his maths homework. His phone vibrated and he reached for it.
“Hey!” A text from Liam read. His phone buzzed again and another text arrived.
“what u up 2???”
Zayn typed back a message. “Homework.”
“U really are a nerd.”
Zayn rolled his eyes. “Doing homework doesn’t make u a nerd.”
“yes, it does.” Then; “do u wanna hang out at my house 2morrow?”
“Why?”
“I wanna talk.”
“About?”
“my party, just come by – ok? :)”
Zayn found himself typing. “Okay.”
No smiley face.
 
                                  *** *** ***
The next day Zayn saw Liam during class and again at lunch time. Once again,
Liam brought Harry and Louis to their table. Josh was also there, but he moved
to sit beside Niall on the other side of the table. Zayn moved to Josh’s spot,
and he ended up sandwiched between Louis and Liam.
The conversation navigated from rugby to what was on telly last night then to
which teachers were annoying. Louis and Niall did most of the talking. Liam
didn’t bring up their afterschool meet-up, making Zayn wonder if he was keeping
it from Harry and Louis.
After lunch he had chemistry and despite their new lunch seating arrangements,
Zayn once again ignored Louis throughout the entire class.
 
                                  *** *** ***
The final bell rung and Zayn leaned against the school fence, waiting for Liam.
His wait wasn’t long.
“If you live so close to me, how come I’ve never seen you walking home after
school?” Zayn asked when Liam joined him.
“I get picked up by mine or Louis’ mum,” Liam said. Zayn had seen Louis’ mother
pull up in a fancy looking Mercedes. If Liam was foregoing his lift, then he
was trying to keep the fact he was hanging out with Zayn a secret.
“How’d you find the abstinence drills yesterday?” Zayn asked pushing off the
fence.
Liam shrugged. “Stupid.”
“Why?”
“I don’t fancy any of the girls I did the drills with.” Liam glanced at Zayn.
“I think the exercise would only work if you fancy the person.”
“The point isn’t to get tempted to have sex, but to teach you what to do in a
situation where you feel like you’re being pressured.”
“So, it’s like going over a script?”
“Basically.” They reached the main road and Liam led him left where Zayn would
normally turn right to get home. They approached the two-story house with a
cobbled stone wall and a well-kept rose garden. It looked much bigger than
Liam’s old house.
“That’s me,” Liam said and walked to the front door unlocking it. “My parents
are still at work.” He opened the door and went in with Zayn following close
behind him. He paused to take off his school shoes when he saw Liam doing so.
“Is it fine if we talk in my room?” Liam asked, turning to him.
Zayn nodded. He was led up the stairs and into Liam’s room. Looking around, he
thought it was a nice room, big with a large bed occupying most of the space
and by the door there was a student desk with a Mac laptop on it, a lamp, and
piles of prescribed textbooks. On the walls were a Man United calendar and a
centrefold of Candice Swanepoel pouting down the catwalk with a large pair of
sequenced wings floating from her shoulders. Zayn sat down at the desk, placing
his bag on the floor.
“You said you wanted to talk about your party?” Zayn said.
Liam placed his school bag at the foot of the bed and sat down. “Yes. I’m
having my sixteenth birthday party soon and I’m worried about falling off the
abstinence wagon.”
“Why?”
“I invited people I used to hang out with. I’ve slept with some of them and my
parents won’t be home that weekend. I’m worried that if the situation presents
itself I might not say no.”
“If it does, remember what you learnt during the drill exercises.”
“That’s why I invited you over. I want to do more drills with you.”
Zayn stared at him. “I don’t think—”
“I fancy you more than the girls in Absolute. The only way this’ll work for me
is if I do them with you,” Liam said. Zayn’s heart began to thud in his chest,
the words ‘fancy you’ playing in his head. “Unless that makes you
uncomfortable?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Zayn said while thinking it was a bad idea. He should get up
and leave, but Liam was looking at him expectantly. “Okay, let’s do it.” He got
to his feet, loosening his school tie. He took off his blazer, placing it on
Liam’s bed. Liam’s eyes followed the movement. “This entire abstinence thing is
stupid. We’re lads. It’s a biological necessity that we have sex.” Zayn raised
an eyebrow. He needed Liam to play along. “Plus, us wanking each other off
wouldn’t count as sex.” Zayn untucked his school shirt, and Liam’s eyes widened
as he sat more upright on his bed. “Would it?”
“I’m sure some people would disagree,” Liam said. Zayn got onto the bed,
settling his knees on either side of Liam, straddling him. He placed his hands
on the wall behind Liam, steadying himself. Something like this would never
happen if they were in class.
“What if I wrapped my lips around your cock? Would you like that?” Zayn said as
he sat down on Liam’s lap.
Liam’s eyes were dark and his arms remained immobile at his side. He licked his
lips. “Uh, Zayn...”
Zayn silenced him by pressing his lips hard against Liam’s. It wasn’t a kiss.
Kisses were nice things. This was Zayn shoving years of longing and denial into
Liam’s mouth, plunging his tongue hard, licking and tasting. This wasn’t right.
It wasn’t part of the curriculum, yet he couldn’t stop and Liam was kissing him
back, head tilted, mouth widening, hands coming up to grip Zayn’s thighs, his
fingers digging into Zayn’s trousers. Zayn ground his hips down. This was
definitely not part of the curriculum because Liam moaning and thrusting up
against him felt like pornography. Zayn pulled away, climbing off Liam’s lap to
sit on the bed beside him, panting.
“You didn’t stop me.” Zayn looked at Liam as he gasped breaths of air. “You
failed.”
“That didn’t feel like failure.” Liam said, his lips were wet with Zayn’s spit,
the front of his trousers tented up. He was—
Zayn looked away. “Well it was.” Zayn closed his eyes and pressed the back of
his head against the cool wall, trying his best to ignore the throb of his cock
between his legs. “We have serious work to do before your party.”
 
 
***** Chapter 6 *****
Sitting on the bed with Liam was too much. Zayn awkwardly got up and sat at the
desk. Liam stayed on the bed, watching him. “Well, that was-”
“Unfair,” Liam cut in. “Why did you say those things to me?”
“You wanted me too! You said the ones we did at school were lame. Was that real
world enough for you?”
“I can’t believe you said all that stuff,” Liam shook his head, “and you’re the
virgin.”
“So, that makes me incapable of talking dirty?”
“You shouldn’t. It’s indecent.” Liam sat up. “What do we do now?”
“You need to work on your will-power.” Zayn picked up his blazer and put it on.
“How?”
“I’m not too sure. I’ll look it up.”
“Can I ask you a question, do you ever—” Liam made a crude motion with his
hand. “—jerk off?” He asked, his cheeks colouring.
“Yes. I’m not a monk.”
“So, it’s not prohibited or anything?”
“Not at all.”
“What do you think about when you—”
“You said one question,” Zayn said. He got to his feet, feeling the need to put
as much distance between himself and Liam. “I need to go.” He ran out before
Liam could say anything.
                                  *** *** ***
Wednesdays meant PE before lunch. It was one of the few classes Zayn shared
with Niall. Despite the tedious exercises, he enjoyed it. They were dressed in
their PE kit: grey shorts and white t-shirts with trainers. Mr Wilson had the
class running laps around the football field. Zayn and Niall walked around
leisurely, watching their classmates jog by.
“I went to Liam’s house yesterday,” Zayn said, kicking some dirt with his
trainer.
Niall glanced at him. “You guys are hanging out now?”
“He wanted help with the abstinence stuff.”
“What kind of help?”
Zayn didn’t look at Niall because he was sure his face was giving away
everything he was feeling. “Uh, Liam wanted to do some drills.”
“Drills?”
“Abstinence drills.”
Niall stopped walking and grabbed his arm. “You didn’t.”
“I’m helping him,” Zayn said.
“Tell me that a small part of you didn’t jump at the idea of fooling around
with him.”
“We didn’t fool around.”
“So why are you suddenly incapable of looking me in the eye?” Niall grabbed
Zayn’s chin between his fingers. He peered at Zayn who widened his eyes and
glared at him.
“There! Is this enough eye contact for you?” Zayn shook his chin free and began
to walk, picking up the pace.
“Zayn, why can’t you see that this is all some plan that he engineered to—”
Niall stopped.
Zayn turned around. “Please do go on. I’d like to hear your big conspiracy
theories. Liam joined Absolute just to get close to me, so he could what? Fuck
me?”
“Yeah.” Niall crossed his arms, jutting his chin out stubbornly. “He fancies
you. Always has.”
“Liam wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Because you know him all so well. A week ago you had barely spoken to the lad
in years.”
“Things change,” Zayn said. In the distance Mr Wilson was blowing his whistle,
signalling that the class needed to finish up. “Let’s get going before Mr
Wilson zeroes in on us.”
They jogged after the disappearing trail of students.
 
                                  *** *** ***
Lunch time Zayn was the first to arrive at their table. He sat on the bench,
next to the wall. Josh arrived and sat in the seat opposite of him.
“Hey, Zayn,” Josh said brightly.
“Hi, Josh.” Zayn opened his lunch bag, pulled out his juice and a sandwich,
taking a bite.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but Niall’s always been around and
when he wasn’t, you sort of had this don’t-fuck-with-me scowl on your face.
Today’s the first time I’ve seen you scowl-free so—” Josh looked around,
checking the canteen exit. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “Do
you think that Niall’s, like, into me?”
Zayn carefully chewed on his sandwich and took a sip of his juice. Papaya. Very
nice. “That’s a question that you should ask him.”
“I can’t just ‘ask him’ because if he wasn’t, it’d become awkward between us.”
Josh ran a hand through his blond hair. “Ask him for me. Please, Zayn.”
“I will,” Zayn said, even though he was fairly certain Niall didn’t have any
designs on Josh.
A wide smile broke out on Josh’s face. “Thanks, I appreciate it loads. I know
this is juvenile but I really fancy him.” Josh opened a bag of chips and
offered Zayn some. Zayn shook his head. “If you don’t mind, can you also add a
good word for me?”
Zayn raised a brow. Josh flushed.
“I mean, you’re his best friend. If you said, ‘that Josh is sort of all right’,
he’ll take it to heart. Maybe you can convince him to get over the guy he’s in
love with.”
Zayn frowned, “What guy?”
Josh paused, a chip half way to his mouth. “You don’t know?”
Zayn shook his head. He was sure he would remember if Niall had mentioned there
being someone he was interested in. After Harry, they were all they had in
terms of friends. They shared everything: sexual orientation discovery, first
kisses, parent’s financial problems, everything. Now Josh, of all people, was
telling him that Niall had a secret crush that Zayn didn’t know about. It
didn’t make sense.
“What did he tell you?” Zayn asked leaning across the table.
“He told me this in confidence.”
“I’m his best-friendand I’ll do you those favours you asked. Tell me.”
“He was over at my house this one time in my dad’s studio.” Zayn nodded
impatiently. Josh went on. “Anyway, we were talking about songs we like and he
put on The Killers’ Here With Me–we’ve been practicing its guitar chords—he
said that it reminded him of this guy he’s been in love with for years. He got
proper intense and emotional. He said he’s starting to realise that he and this
guy are never going to happen and—”
The canteen door opened and Harry made his way through, flanked on both sides
by Louis and Liam. Zayn sat back on his chair.
“Hello everyone,” Harry said, as he sat down next to Josh, Louis sat next to
Harry and Liam went around the table to sit next to Zayn, smiling as he did so.
“Hey,” Liam said.
“Hi.”
“Where’s the Irish lad?” Harry asked.
“I have no idea,” Zayn replied.
“I’d thought, since he’s your only friend and all, you’d keep better tabs on
his whereabouts and Lojack the fuck out of him.” Louis said, peeling an orange.
Zayn glared at him and began to get up to leave because he was only inoculated
for one daily dose of Louis Tomlinson. Liam pressed a palm to his chest.
“Louis, Zayn and Niall have kindly let us sit with them so there’s no need to
be rude,” Liam said. Louis stopped peeling his orange and raised his eyebrows,
his gaze following Liam’s arm where it was still pressed against Zayn’s chest.
“I never asked to be let into their sad two-man cabal.” He put the half peeled
orange down and got up. “Just because you’re playing nice to get him to bend
over for you, don’t expect me to do the same.” He grabbed his lunch tray and
stalked off into the canteen, the door banging loudly in his wake. Liam dropped
his arm and glanced at Zayn.
Zayn was acutely aware of every pair of eyes at the table on him. “Liam, is it
true?” Zayn asked quietly.
“Josh, let’s take a walk,” Harry said, pulling Josh up to his feet, not giving
him time to take his lunch. When the canteen door closed behind them, Liam
spoke.
“If you have to ask me that it means you don’t trust me,” Liam said.
“Based upon what I hear about you I shouldn’t be surprised you’d join the
abstinence club just to fuck its chair,” Zayn said.
“I really thought you wouldn’t judge me based on idle school gossip. You know
what? Forget it.” Liam grabbed his lunch and walked back into the canteen.
Zayn was left to end his lunch break the way he began it, alone.
 
 
 
***** Chapter 7 *****
‘Spent the summer just laying out in the sun. Time seems to move so slow when
you’re taking it as it comes. Maybe we were just too young.’ Zayn pulled the
headphones off. Was it true? Was Niall in love with him? If he was, why hadn’t
Niall said anything?
When Zayn arrived home, he had marched straight to his room, locking himself
in. He heard supper getting served and one of his sisters had called for him.
Zayn hadn’t answered. He then heard his mum declare that he was having a moody
spell and then he was blissfully left alone.
He had taken out his iPad and downloaded the song Josh had mentioned. An hour
later, he lay in bed with his headphones on, listening to the song as he
overlaid memories of interacting with Niall with a ‘Niall is in love with me!’
sepia tone. Surely he had it wrong? He reached for his phone and pulled up
Niall’s number, dialling him before he could talk himself out of it.
“Malik,” Niall said after three rings. His voice was low and raspy, like he had
been sleeping.
“Did I wake you?”
“Nah, I was just napping.” There was a rustle and the line muffled before Niall
spoke again, much clearer this time. “Never fall asleep on my dad’s sofa. My
neck is cramped to hell.”
“I spoke to Josh during lunch today,” Zayn said. “He fancies you. He wants me
to put in a good word for him.”
Niall yawned on the other end of the receiver. “Did you have to call me at
eleven at night to tell me this?”
“I told him I’d get on it,” Zayn said. He paused before he continued. “What do
you think about him?”
“He’s a kid.”
“He’s only two years younger than us.”
“Those two years sure do make themselves felt,” Niall said. “I’m not into him
that way. He’s just a mate.”
Zayn looked at his iPad where Here With Me was still playing. “Niall, you’d
tell me if you fancied someone, right?”
There was a long silence.
“Yeah,” Niall said eventually.
“Because we’re best friends and we tell each other everything?”
“Yeah. Zayn, are you all right?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, okay,” Niall said.
Zayn hung up, put his headphones back on and listened as the song started up
again.
                                  *** *** ***
During classes, Zayn took a detour to the boys’ bathroom. While he was at the
urinal, Harry Styles came in.
“Get out,” Harry said to a Year 8 boy washing his hands at the wash basin. The
boy turned off the tap and quickly rushed out the loo. Harry locked the door
and stood in front of it. Zayn did up his zipper and went to wash his hands.
“What?” Zayn said.
“That shit Louis was on about yesterday is exactly that–shit,” Harry said.
“Liam would never do something like that.”
“So, he doesn’t fancy me?”
“He does—you know that already, he’s told you.” Harry walked towards Zayn,
coming to stand next to the basin, catching Zayn’s eye in the mirror. “He needs
help. The things he does, he’s reckless and I know if we—if you don’t help him,
he’s just going to do something he can’t take back.”
Zayn turned off the tap, wiping his hands on his trouser legs before he faced
Harry. “I want to help him as much as I can, but at the end of the day, I’m
just a student. If Liam’s problems are as deep rooted as you say, maybe he
needs to speak to someone–a grown-up.”
Harry blinked, looking away. “Liam’s parents have already tried that. He was
talking to a therapist in town, but it didn’t work and this was before he got
that girl pregnant. His dad has basically washed his hands of him.” Harry
looked at Zayn. “Things have gotten bad for him at home.”
“Why’d Louis say those things yesterday?”
“Louis’ problem isn’t with you and Liam.”
Zayn frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Louis has his own issues. He just projects them out on you.”
“The hate Louis has for me is not imagined.”
Harry sighed. “He doesn’t hate you per se.He only thinks that he does because
of–just ignore him and he’ll come around. Will you continue to help Liam?”
“Yes, but half the time I’m not sure if what I’m doing is working.”
Harry smiled, his eyes going soft at the edges. “It is.”
 
                                  *** *** ***
Before lunch, Zayn sent a text to Niall. “We need 2 talk.”
Zayn was going to suggest his hideout outside Mrs Miller’s class, but Niall
responded. “I know a place.”
The bell rang and Zayn left his bag in class, meeting Niall outside the school
hall as Niall’s text had instructed.
“Follow me,” Niall said, leading Zayn into the hall. Their footsteps echoed on
the wooden floor as they walked to the front of the stage and took the steps
that led to the back.
“Where’re we going?” Zayn asked.
Niall threw him a smile. “You’ll see. It’s great.” They reached the top of the
stairs. Niall pulled out a key, opening the large backstage door before he
gestured for Zayn to step inside. Zayn walked in the room, looking around. From
the smell of it, the room hadn’t been used for a long time. There were boxes of
equipment from old theatre productions stacked around. He reached into one,
pulling out a white mask from the school’s production of The Phantom of the
Opera. He put it down before running his fingers through layers upon layers of
dust.
“It’s cool, innit?” Niall said from behind him.
“It looks like a horror film set,” Zayn said. He wiped his fingers on his
trousers and walked to the high set window to look out. He could make out the
woods that ran behind the school. He turned to Niall and smiled. “But cool.”
“I knew you’d like it. You can sit there.” Niall pointed to a box which was
less dusty than the rest of the stuff in the room.
Zayn took a seat, and pulled his lunch out. “How’d you find this place?”
“Mrs Foster asked me to pull out some lab coats for class last week. They store
them with the drama stuff.” Niall grabbed his own box and pushed it forward to
sit opposite Zayn. “I may’ve ‘forgotten’ to give her back the key.”
Zayn inspected his sandwich. Tomato and cheese was not exactly his favourite,
but his mum insisted on making it for him. “I think we may’ve abandoned poor
Josh to the wolves,” he said as he took a bite.
Niall shrugged. “He’s got his own mates if he doesn’t want to sit with Liam and
the boys.”
“You do remember what I said to you last night?”
“About Josh fancying me?”
“Yeah.”
“He and I are just mates.”
“But he wants more.”
“I’m not into him like that,” Niall said. He put the sandwich back into his
lunchbox. “What’s up with you playing matchmaker?”
“He told me that there’s a guy you fancy–have fancied for years.” Zayn said
quietly. “Why haven’t you told me?”
Niall stared at him. “He had no right to tell you that.”
“I’m your best friend,” Zayn said. “I tell you everything.”
“Yeah, like your rendezvous with Liam.”
“Liam has nothing to do with this. You’ve been keeping this secret long before
I began working with him.”
“Working with him?” Niall snorted. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“He needs my help.”
“And a good snog is just what the doctor ordered?” Surprised, Zayn gaped at
him. Niall rolled his eyes. “You thought I didn’t know about that? He told
Harry and Harry isn’t good at keeping secrets.”
“Unlike you?” Zayn said.
“I wasn’t keeping it from you,” Niall said. “Zayn, you don’t pay enough
attention to me for it to be considered a secret.”
“I don’t understand,” Zayn said.
“Twenty three times,” Niall said as he hung his head. “Twenty three times,
you’ve visited my house and you’ve never asked where my father is.” Zayn’s
heart sunk as the last couple of times he had been at the Horan’s ran through
his mind.
There was his visit last week when he’d written lyrics for Niall. There was two
weeks ago, before the new school year started. Then there was during the school
holidays when he and Niall had spent most of their time either at the shelter,
at Zayn’s house playing Xbox, binge watching American TV shows, or in the
garage with Niall’s guitar out and Zayn singing old school Craig David. No Mr
Horan in sight.
Zayn’s memories of Mr Horan was of a man in blue overalls and a thick odour of
sweat and tobacco clinging to him - a man who was always half-way through the
door, a utility bag in hand, as he was off to work. Zayn hadn’t seen him in a
while but that was normal. Niall’s dad worked a lot. Didn’t he?
He glanced at the sandwich Niall was tearing thick crusts off. Peanut butter
and jam. Niall didn’t like peanut butter and jam, yet this was the third time
he was having it this week.
“Niall, where’s your father?” Zayn asked.
Niall tore the final side of the crust and threw it back in his lunch box. “He
left at the beginning of summer because he got a job in Denmark.”
“Your dad left you?”
“Greg’s dropped by a few times, leaving money for me because Dad forgets
sometimes.” Niall shrugged. “I didn’t tell you, because I know you, Zayn. You’d
get hung up on details. You don’t leave any room for other people to ever need
you, you brood, the world sucks and you’re too arty and sensitive to deal with
things.”
Zayn stared at his half eaten lunch, memories of them in Niall’s garage coming
to mind. They always hung out at Niall’s because his house was more fun since
his father was never home. Zayn had said that to Niall once. He heard the laugh
Niall gave then, sharp and brittle. Hollow. Zayn felt himself start to tear up.
Fuck, why hadn’t he noticed? The solitary toothbrush in the glass cup in the
bathroom. The half empty fridge. Niall cutting grass when the weeds had started
to cover the small path leading to the front door. The growing pile of mail on
the kitchen counter.
Niall laughed, the sound clipped and cold. “I tell you my dad abandoned me and
of course you cry and make it all about you. Typical.”
“What have I done to make you think that you couldn’t tell me?” Zayn brushed at
his cheek.
“Me! Me! Me! Zayn, you’re self-absorbed and play a good victim.” Niall was
shouting now, pale cheeks beginning to flush crimson. “You’re this egg that I
tiptoe around because with just the slightest of pressure you’re going to
crack.” He got up, hastily packing his lunchbox into his backpack. “Don’t break
your little heart over my situation. Go angst over Liam and how far you can
fool around with him, oh excuse me, ’work’with him, before you’re not
considered a virgin anymore.”
Zayn got to his feet, his lunchbox falling off his lap, as he reached to grab
Niall’s arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, honestly. We can tell my mum, she’ll
know what to do. Maybe call the NSCPCC.” Even though Niall was trying to push
Zayn away, he held on as hard as he could. “Please, Niall.”
“I’m notreporting my father like he’s some sort of criminal,” Niall said,
turning to face Zayn. When he was certain that Niall wasn’t going to leave,
Zayn let go of him.
“What he’s done isn’t right,” Zayn said softly. “You’re a kid, you can’t be by
yourself.”
“I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Zayn said. “Come stay by my house.”
Niall shook his head. “I don’t need your pity.”
“We sleep over at each other’s houses all the time. Come stay over at mine for
a few days. Please.”
“Don’t tell your parents about my dad,” Niall said, the anger Zayn had glimpsed
earlier being swept away behind a thick curtain that Zayn had never known was
there.
“I won’t.” The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch.
“I’ll go home, pack an overnight bag then I’ll come over,” Niall said before he
left the room. Zayn sighed and followed after him.
 
                                  *** *** ***
‘Niall is in love with me!’ turned into a greyscale ‘Niall’s dad abandoned
him!’ The memory sequence was playing over and over in Zayn’s mind as he sat at
the back of Mr Elliot’s geography class. When Niall’s father left three months
ago, why hadn’t he noticed? God, he really was self-absorbed. Niall’s sadness
wasn’t over an unrequited crush. Liam asking for his help wasn’t some
Machiavellian, Cruel Intentions-esque scheme to sleep with him.
While Mr Elliot’s back was turned, Zayn pulled out his iPhone and typed: “I
shouldn’t have listened 2 Louis yesterday. I still want 2 help.” He re-read the
text, and sent it to Liam. The phone vibrated sooner than Zayn expected. He
checked the new message.
“Can we meet 2day???” Liam’s text read.
“Sorry, 2day is out. Maybe 2morrow after school?”
“@ the shelter?”
“Sure.”
 
                                  *** *** ***
Niall arrived at Zayn’s house after six. Zayn guided Niall past the living room
where his youngest sister sat watching The Vampire Diaries.
“Hello,” Niall said to her.
“Hi, Niall,” she said, sitting a bit straighter on the sofa and flipping her
ponytail over her shoulder.
“Niall will be staying over for a few days,” Zayn walked towards the steps.
“Really?” she said, sounding far too breathless for Zayn’s liking.
“Yeah, really. So don’t blast that Gareth Gates CD you like so much.” Zayn
smiled as he walked up the stairs.
“I don’t listen to Gareth Gates!” he heard her shout as he and Niall reached
the top of the stairs.
“Yes, she does,” Zayn said. He opened the door to his room. “She sings along to
Spirit in the Skyand does these little dance moves.”
Niall raised the large bag he was carrying. “Where do you want me to put my
stuff?”
“Check to see if there’s space in my wardrobe.” Niall opened Zayn’s wardrobe. A
T-shirt, jeans, and a dirty school shirt fell out. He turned and looked at
Zayn.
“I think I’ll just leave it under your desk.” He pushed his bag under the desk
then sat down on the chair, swivelling the wheels and spinning three times
before he said, “Did you tell your parents I’m staying over?”
“Yes.” Zayn jumped onto his bed and pulled out his iPad. “My dad wanted to call
your dad to check if it was okay with him but I talked him out of it.”
“Do you think they suspect something’s wrong?”
Zayn shook his head. “My parents can be dense. I’ve managed to hide my tattoos
from them and my smoking.”
“Where’m I sleeping?”
“Take my bed.”
“I can’t do that. It’s your room.”
“You’re my guest.”
Niall rolled his eyes. “That’s sounds so formal like.”
“Okay, I’ll set up my sleeping bag on the floor and we’ll take turns having the
bed over the next couple of nights.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Then we’re sorted.” Zayn opened iTunes and started to browse. “Uh, tomorrow I
promised I’d meet Liam after school. We’re going to the shelter.” Niall did
another spin on the chair and when he finished his rotation, Zayn nudged the
chair with his foot. “Is that okay with you?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You don’t like me hanging out with Liam.”
“Zayn, I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not going to dictate who you see.” Niall
pushed himself away from the bed and back to the desk, reaching for his cell
phone. Zayn considered asking Niall about the guy he liked, but then thought
against it.
                                  *** *** ***
After supper, Zayn lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern the
shapes of the posters he had stuck up on it. It was a futile task; the room was
too dark and all he could make out was a vague, dark blackness. He heard a
rustle from the floor and Niall was whispering his name.
“Yes?” Zayn said quietly.
“The floor’s uncomfortable, can I get into bed?” Niall asked. Zayn started to
get up, ready to offer up his bed when he felt Niall press a warm hand on his
shoulder. “Don’t get out. We can share.”
Zayn nodded and when he realised Niall couldn’t see him he said, “Sure.” The
mattress sank as Niall got on and Zayn rolled onto his side, facing the wall.
He expected Niall to get in head-to-toe like they had in the past when they
shared a bed. When Zayn felt Niall press his face against his neck, Zayn
realised that he hadn’t. Zayn reached for Niall’s arm, pulling it over his
waist, intertwining their fingers. Niall’s breath hitched.
“He didn’t even say he would be out of the country,” Niall whispered, his voice
thick with emotion. “‘Got a job. Good job, big money’. Then he was gone. He
hasn’t even called to see how I’m doing. Mum’s barely making ends meet with
Gran getting sick so I couldn’t bother her. So, I asked Greg, but he’s got a
wife and a baby to take care of.” Niall sniffed. Zayn squeezed his hand and
waited. “I’m sorry for what I said about you being self-absorbed. I didn’t want
you to know ‘cause when we hung out life still felt normal. I didn’t want you
to look at me different.”
“I’d never-” Zayn said.
“I know,” Niall said. He returned the hand squeeze and whispered. “Zayn, you’re
the best friend I could ever have asked for.”
Zayn felt the pin prickle of tears. Niall couldn’t say that, not when he had
been oblivious to the personal tragedy Niall had been living through the last
few months. Not when he’d had thoughts about how he was better than this crap
school in a crap town and dreamed about moving away to Uni and meeting
different people, exciting people. Not when he’d wondered if he’d outgrow Niall
one day like he had his old cricket gloves. He swallowed the lump in his throat
and turned around, trying to find Niall’s eyes in the dark.
“I haven’t been a good friend,” Zayn said. “But I will be. I promise.” He
reached blindly in the dark to find the shape of Niall’s face. He lowered his
head to press a kiss on Niall’s temple. No matter what, he’d be the kind of
friend that Niall deserved. He wouldn’t let him down. Not ever again, he vowed
silently in the dark room.
                                  *** *** ***
In the morning, Zayn was woken by his father shouting that he was leaving to
drive the girls to school. It was Friday so his mum would have already left. He
turned around in the bed to find the space next to him empty. Niall was up.
Zayn glanced around his room and noticed that the sleeping bag had been put
away. The piles of clothes he’d thrown off the previous night were neatly
folded on top of his laundry basket. Zayn yawned and sat up, checking the time:
six thirty. Still early. He was rubbing his eyes when Niall walked in, a white
towel wrapped around his skinny waist, his blond hair wet and matted on his
forehead.
“Morning,” Zayn said, averting his eyes.
“Morning.” Niall reached for the bag underneath the desk.
Zayn left the room when Niall started to dress. Closing the door behind
himself, he let out a breath. It was awkward. He didn’t know why, but it was.
He had seen Niall naked many times but today it’d felt weird. Zayn roughed a
hand through his hair and went to shower.
                                  *** *** ***
That day in maths class, Zayn moved to the second row on the left, next to the
windows. Next to where Liam usually sat. Unlike the rest of the class who
walked in with the agility akin to Egyptian mummies, Zayn came in early to
maths with the sole intention of stealing Sandy’s place. When Sandy walked in,
saw his place was taken he gave Zayn the evil eye, proceeding to another seat.
Liam came in shortly after that, head down, his hands shoved deep in his
trousers. When Liam looked up, he saw Zayn and froze. For a moment, Zayn
thought he was going to sit somewhere else, but Liam approached and sat down
next to him.
Zayn surreptitiously scribbled a note and passed it to Liam. From the corner of
his eye, he saw Liam read it before he wrote something on it and he passed it
back.
While the teacher rummaged in her desk drawers, Zayn looked down. It read, “I’m
sorry too.”
                                  *** *** ***
They walk out of class together, shoulder to shoulder, their backpacks bumping
occasionally.
“What do you have next?” Liam said when they were far enough from the door to
not block the exiting students.
“English,” Zayn said.
“I’ll see you at lunch?”
Zayn was about to say yes when an idea came to him. “Let’s bunk off school.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “What?”
Zayn lowered his voice, waiting for one of the prefects to walk pass. “Let’s
bunk off. We could head to town, buy pizza for lunch, get some beer, and go to
the shelter.”
“Um-” Liam didn’t look convinced.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Won’t we get into trouble?”
“Only if we get caught. I’ve done this too many times for that to happen.” The
corridor was starting to empty. Before they could lose the opportunity to leave
school grounds without being seen, Zayn yanked Liam’s arm and began to pull him
towards the exit. “Come on, trust me.” Liam glanced behind them, made up his
mind, and followed Zayn. They made it out of the school without anyone stopping
them. As soon as they were out of the gate, Zayn increased his pace, hoping to
put as much distance between them and the school as possible.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Liam said.
“You’ve never bunked off school before?”
Liam shook his head. “I’m a prefect so the short answer: no.”
“I’m amazed.” They took a left turn and Zayn reduced his pace. “Since you’re a
newbie, I’ll explain the ins and outs of bunking off. The first thing you want
to do is get out of your school uniform as soon as possible. Even the most
unsuspecting adult questions a student in uniform walking around town during
school hours. We’ll stop by my house to change.” They crossed the road to take
the shortcut to Zayn’s house. “The second thing is have someone call the school
and explain your absence at afternoon reg. The third thing is to make sure you
have a good explanation in case you bump into your parents, or worse, teachers
out of school, in civvies, during school hours.”
“Sounds like you’ve done this a lot,” Liam said as they got further and further
away from the school, an easy smile playing on his lips, his feet light as they
entered instant suspension territory.
Zayn winked at Liam and said, “You have no idea.”
 
***** Chapter 8 *****
The walk to Zayn’s house was silent apart from the heavy thud of their feet
hitting the pavement. With the birds silent and the streets empty, midmorning
suburbia seemed so apocalyptically deserted that it was simple to imagine that
he and Liam were the last two humans left on Earth. However, the fact they were
the only people on the street did not stop Liam from anxiously looking behind
them every few minutes. The few times a car drove by he’d stiffen, only
relaxing once it had driven pass. They soon reached his house and Zayn unlocked
the front door and they stepped in.
“I’ve never been inside your house before. It’s nice,” Liam said. Zayn mumbled
a thanks and led Liam upstairs. He opened his bedroom door and walked in,
heading to his wardrobe. He rummaged around, looking for clothes that would fit
Liam. Zayn found a Batman T-shirt that was normally baggy on himself and pulled
it out. He dug further and pulled out a pair of trousers. He handed the items
to Liam.
“Put this on,” Zayn said. Liam stood by his desk, looking around, inspecting
the posters all over the room. Liam absently reached for the clothes. Zayn
turned around, shrugging his blazer off. He took off his tie, shirt, and then
changed into an old Nirvana T-shirt. Zayn kicked off his school shoes. With his
back still turned to Liam, Zayn pulled off his trousers and put on a pair of
black jeans. When he was done dressing he turned around and was met with the
sight of a shirtless Liam slowly pulling on the T-shirt.
“Uh-” Zayn stammered, his eyes fixed on the smooth panels of Liam’s stomach. He
found himself incapable of doing anything apart from staring. He turned around
to rummage through his wardrobe. This was a stupid idea, that’s what it was.
The last time he’d been alone with Liam, they’d ended up kissing. Sure, it been
part of the drill, but still, the kiss had been electrifying and there had been
a part of him that hadn’t wanted it to stop. He threw his school clothes in the
wardrobe and slammed it shut before he turned around again, hoping Liam had
finished getting dressed. This time he was met with the sight of Liam fully
dressed in his clothes looking at him expectantly.  “Do the trousers fit you
okay?” Zayn asked.
Liam did a weird standing semi-squat. “They’re a bit tight.” Zayn followed the
movement of Liam’s hips. He was right. The trousers were tight, distractingly
so.
“They’ll have to do ‘cause I don’t have anything else.” Zayn went to his desk
drawer and opened it, looking for the spare cash he kept there.
“Is your wardrobe so full that you have to keep clothes in a gym bag?” Liam
asked, tapping the bag under the desk with his foot lightly.
“That belongs to Niall. He’s visiting.” Zayn found the cash he was looking for
and pocketed it. When he turned around, he saw that Liam was still looking at
the bag.
“You and Niall are pretty close, yeah?”
“He’s my best friend.”
“But you used to hang with Harry before?”
“Before high school and Louis, yeah,” Zayn said.
“Why’d you stop?” Liam asked. Zayn didn’t know the answer himself. One minute
he, Harry, and Niall were friends, but then high school started and Harry met
Louis. That was the end of it.
“We weren’t children anymore. We grew apart,” Zayn said.
“That’s not how Harry tells it.”
“Oh, what does Harry say?”
“That you and Niall ousted him when high school started.”
Zayn raised an eyebrow. “We ousted him?”
Liam gave a shrug. “That’s what he said.”
“Harry was the one who stopped being friends with us.” Annoyed, Zayn grabbed
his rucksack from underneath the bed and checked that it had the essentials.
Cigarettes, his lighter, sketch pad. Sorted.
“You’re getting cross,” Liam said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Can we not talk about Harry?”
“Okay,” Liam said. They exited Zayn’s room after putting on some trainers. Zayn
locked up and they walked down the front lawn to stand outside in the silent
street.
“To get to town, we’re going to need to take the bus.” Zayn glanced at his
wristwatch. From his knowledge of the bus route, the next bus would be at
midday. It was barely eleven. Fuck. “But the next one will only arrive at
twelve.”
“We could head to the shelter,” Liam said.
“We could. But where’s the fun in that?” Zayn looked up and down the street. It
was basically deserted and quiet apart from the occasional barking of a
neighbour’s dog. Old Mrs Dale was visiting her grandchildren in the city. He’d
heard her asking his mum to look after her plants while she was gone. She had
given very specific details on what time to water them and how much water to
give them. Mrs Dale had an ancient Corolla that she hardly ever used. The few
times Zayn had been roped into doing yard work for her, he had seen it parked
in her garage, covered by a grey tarp. “I have an idea.”
Liam gave him a look. “I don’t think I’m liking your ideas.”
Zayn smiled. “You’ll like this one,” he said as he headed across the street
towards Mrs Dale’s house.
“I’m going to regret bunking off school with you, aren’t I?” Liam said,
following after him.
Zayn laughed and reached for Liam’s arm, pulling him along. “It’ll be fun.”
Mrs Dale’s house was situated at the end of the cul-de-sac. Zayn did a quick
sweep of the street, confirming that no one was around. He walked up the path
of the house and dug around the pot plants in front of the door until he found
the house keys.
“Tell me that we’re not breaking into someone’s house.” Liam was frowning and
he kept looking around like he expected Scotland Yard to appear out of nowhere
and arrest them.
“It’s cool. Mrs D gave my mum permission to come in and water her plants.” Zayn
opened the front door and beckoned Liam to follow after him. Liam appeared
hesitant. Zayn rolled his eyes and grabbed Liam’s arm, pulling him in the house
and locking the door. “We’re only going to borrow her car.”
“What?!” Liam exclaimed. Zayn walked through the living room. The room had that
dank stench of a house that had not had a person living in it for a while. Mrs
Dale had a fondness for Golden Retrievers and there was a collection of
pictures, dolls, and statuettes of the breed all around the house. Zayn went to
the kitchen and he found the door that led to the garage, unlocking it.
Zayn flipped the light switch and located the car keys that were hung up on a
key hook. He grabbed them and pulled the tarp off the car, coughing as dust
catapulted into the air, straight into his nostrils. He pressed the button
which opened the garage door, unlocked the driver’s side, and then the
passenger side for Liam. After Liam climbed in, Zayn started the engine and his
first attempt to reverse out resulted in the car shuddering then stalling.
“Are you sure you know how to drive?” Liam asked.
“Niall gave me a couple of lessons,” Zayn said as he started the car again,
focusing on not releasing the clutch too soon. The car slowly began to roll
backwards onto the driveway. He eased onto the deserted street. He pressed the
garage remote on the house keys and the garage door rolled down.
“How could Niall possibly have taught you how to drive? He’s under the legal
driving age, like us, and he doesn’t have a car.”
“Niall’s Irish. They learn to drive when they’re six or something. His brother,
Greg, has a Citi Golf and whenever he comes by, Niall takes me down to the old
mill factory and we practise.” Zayn shifted into first gear and began to drive
down the street. The car’s movements were halting and he was going at a snail
pace of forty kilometres an hour, but he was driving nonetheless. Niall would
be proud. Zayn glanced at Liam, who had a death grip on the door. He gave Liam
a wicked smile. “Check my driving? Sick, yeah?”
Liam smiled, loosening his grip on the door. “I’m sure there are some people,
including my eighty year old Gran, who would complain about the slow pace. But
then who am I to judge? I can’t drive.”
Zayn came to a stop at the traffic light. “I could teach you, if you want?”
“I’d like that.”
 
                                  *** *** ***
They get to town before the midday people-traffic began. Zayn managed to find a
parking spot that didn’t involve him parallel parking. First, they started at
Pizza Hut and ordered pizza (large, barbeque chicken with extra cheese), then
they crossed the street, heading for the bottle shop.
“Are you sure they’ll sell to us?” Liam asked as they approached the shop.
“Believe me, money talks to this lot,” Zayn said. “Stop smiling, look angry,
and they won’t ask any questions.” They entered the shop and Zayn walked
straight to the back to grab a six-pack of the cheapest beer he could find. As
an afterthought, he also grabbed two cans of Bacardi Breezers and headed to the
checkout till. The man working checkout gave him and Liam a slow up and down
with rheumy blue eyes before huffing a breath and cashing the items. Zayn paid
for the beers and they headed out.
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Zayn said once they were out the store, waiting
to cross the street. They went to Pizza Hut and collected their pizza, heading
back to the car. “I got my tattoos done just up around the road.”
“Your parents don’t mind?” Liam asked, gesturing to the microphone tattoo on
Zayn’s arm.
“My parents haven’t seen them.” Zayn opened the car door and he placed the
brown packet full of booze in the back. He opened up the passenger door for
Liam.
“They don’t know?”
Zayn nodded. “I got them towards the end of the summer holiday. I’ve been
wearing long sleeves since then. My older sister caught a glimpse, but she’s
cool and won’t say anything.” Zayn started the car. He pulled out of the
parking spot without stalling, which was really something considering Liam was
looking at him all wide-eyed, making Zayn more self-conscious of his driving.
Liam really shouldn’t do that; stare at him like he was the coolest guy ever.
Because he wasn’t. Not really. Not in the areas that mattered.
They drove out of town, cars now lined up bumper-to-bumper at the traffic
lights as the midday lunch rush began. They got to the neighbourhood and drove
to the local park where Zayn left Mrs Dale’s car at the edge of the woods. He
and Liam walked the rest of the way. Before they went down into the shelter,
Zayn texted Niall that he and Liam had bunked off and needed a ‘grown-up’ to
call and explain their absence. A spot of the flu for himself and the cold for
Liam. Thanks.
Niall responded that he’d be on it. For a moment, Zayn felt guilty that he was
skipping school the day after Niall had told him all his problems, but he also
knew Niall. Confessions whispered in the dark were too much to face in the
harsh light of day. Space would do them good.
They got to the clearing and Liam put the beers down, pulling off the iron lid
of the shelter. He descended down and Zayn handed him the pizza, followed by
the alcohol. Zayn climbed in after Liam, easing down the lid until only the
smallest fraction of light came in. Liam switched on his cell phone flashlight.
Once Zayn hit the floor, he went to the corner and he found the matches and lit
the lamps. Zayn sat cross-legged on the blankets as Liam set the pizza and
beers down and sat down beside Zayn. Liam opened the pizza, took a slice, and
then offered the box to him.
“Are we going to do more drills?” Liam asked as he bit his slice of pizza.
Zayn shook his head. “I’ve given it some thought and did a few Google
searches.” He took a slice of pizza. “I think your problem stems from impulse
control.”
“Impulse control?”
“Yeah, when we did the drill you wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t pulled
away,” Zayn said. “If we can teach you better impulse control, I think you’ll
be able to think more clearly when you’re, um, aroused, and then we’ll solve
your teen sex addict problem.”
Liam broke the crust off his slice and nibbled. He shrugged. “I don’t know. My
parents took me to a therapist earlier in the year. It didn’t work out.”
“You’ve got me now. I’ll talk you through it,” Zayn said, his voice sounding
way more confident than he felt. He opened the six-pack, pulled out a beer,
cracked it open, and took a sip. He pulled out another can, offering it to
Liam. “You want one?”
Liam took it and grimaced when he took a sip. “This tastes horrible.”
“The buzz you’ll get is worth it.”
“I’m sure my therapist’s head would explode if he saw me now. He said I have a
‘predisposition for addiction’.” Liam took another sip.
 Zayn paused, beer midway to his lips. “You’ve never drank before?”
“I’m working on getting a rugby scholarship. ‘Alcohol is empty calories’, Mr
Wilson always says. So I’ve just kept away.”
“But you party with college kids.”
“I never drink with them.”
“What do they say about that?” Zayn asked. Liam Payne was a paradox. Charming
and shy, yet ploughing his way through all the fit college girls. Partying with
all the big college boozers, while somehow managing to teetotal his way through
it.
“They’re cool with it. I was doing other stuff with them,” Liam said. Seeing
the confusion that was playing out on Zayn’s face Liam added, “Sex stuff.”
“Ohh.” Zayn opened his rucksack and took a cigarette out, lighting it. He took
a long drag of it before pulling out his notebook. “Okay, I think we can
start.” He glanced at Liam who had finished eating his pizza and sat cross-
legged, can cradled in his hand. “Uh, we need to face each other.” Zayn scooted
forward until he was seated opposite Liam, their knees almost touching. In the
dim light of the shelter, Liam’s eyes were fully dilated and black, wide and
staring. Zayn swallowed his last mouthful of beer and threw the empty can
aside. He read through his notes and said, “The first thing we’re working on is
your sense of presence. We do this by increasing your awareness of your bodily
sensations. You must close your eyes, describe to me what you’re feeling, like
what jumps out to you about the state of your body.”
Liam nodded and closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath. “I’m slightly cold
but not terribly so. Er, I can see bits of light through my eyelids.” He
stopped, exhaled, “Is this all right?”
“Yeah, go on.”
“My heart rate is elevated.”
“Why?”
Liam licked his lips, his eyes still screwed shut. “You make me nervous.”
“What else?”
“It smells a bit damp here.”
“Take a deep breath.” Zayn watched Liam breathe deeply then exhale. He glanced
at his notes then said, “That’s very good. How does your body feel right now?”
Liam furrowed his eyebrows. “I feel tense.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ve done all this research to help me and I’m worried that
I’m going to screw things up.”
“Don’t worry.” Zayn took one last drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he stubbed
out his cigarette. He read out from his notes, “Your body is a mass of atoms.
To be free from anxiety you need to stop fighting what you feel. You need to
embrace it. Fear is nothing but atoms.” He stopped reading and assessed Liam.
“Now, I want you to take deep conscious breaths, in and out. Really focus on
reducing your heart rate and relaxing.”
“Okay.” Liam inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“What’re you feeling now?”
“My pulse rate is slowing.”
“Good.” Zayn placed the notebook aside and took off his T-shirt. “Now open your
eyes.” Liam blinked as he focused, his eyes scanning over Zayn’s body. He
frowned.
“Um, I don’t understand.”
“The guy who developed the impulse control programme believes ‘what you resist,
persists’. You need to be fully present in whatever state you’re in.”
Liam raised a brow. “So, you want me to get hard?”
“I don’t want you to run away from what you feel.” Zayn reached for his own
belt and unbuckled it. In the too quiet shelter, the metal chain hit the
concrete floor loudly. Zayn unzipped his trousers and sat back on the heel of
his hands, his black pants exposed and tented out by his semi-erect cock. He
watched Liam watch him, Liam’s brown eyes taking in the tattoos on his.
“What’re you feeling right now?”
Liam licked his lips. “My heart rate is up again. My throat is dry and-”
“And?”
“I’m starting to feel warm all over.” Liam reached for the bottom of his T-
shirt and pulled it off in one quick, sleek movement. And fuck, Zayn had known
that Liam was an athlete, but seeing the living proof mere centimetres from him
was different. He pressed his fingers harder on the cool, concrete ground and
focused on keeping his breathing steady. This wasn’t for him. He wasn’t
supposed to be enjoying it. This was to help Liam. Focus on Liam.
“What else?” Their eyes met in the dimly-lit shelter. Zayn held Liam’s gaze
momentarily, before he let his eyes roam over Liam’s body in the manner he
would have liked his hands to. Liam’s chest was broad for a teen. He was mostly
hairless apart from the dark brown hair that scattered over his lower stomach
leading down, down to his crotch.
“My dick’s hard,” Liam said. He leaned back on his hands, taut stomach exposed
to the shelter air.
“What’re you going to do about that?”
“Normally I’d jerk off, but I think that’d be considered indecent in the
context of what we’re doing here,” Liam said. “Zayn, what do you suggest I do
about it?”
Zayn’s breath caught in his throat. There were several explicit things he
thought they could do about Liam’s hard-on. There was: what he was supposed to
do, what he wanted to do versus what he shouldn’t do. Zayn raised his left
thumb and touched the silver ring he wore. “Take off those trousers,” Zayn
found himself saying. He was expecting Liam to protest. Liam didn’t. Instead he
quickly unzipped the trousers and pulled them off, tugging at the legs until he
was free of them. He threw them behind his shoulder and looked at Zayn.
“Now what?” Liam said.
Keeping his eyes on Liam, Zayn pulled off his own trousers before sitting back
cross-legged, his left knee bumping Liam’s right one when he settled back down.
He let Liam look. It was okay because he was looking at Liam too and looking
wasn’t breaking the rules.
“Did it hurt?” Liam said and for one absurd second Zayn thought he was going to
complete the sentence with when you fell from heaven.Instead it was, “When you
got your tattoos done?”
Zayn glanced down at his arms and chest, shaking his head. “Not a lot. I have a
high tolerance for pain.” Liam raised a hand to hover over Zayn’s chest,
outlining in the air the pair of tattooed wings.
“I like this one.” Liam leaned in close, his cologne permeating Zayn’s lungs,
his finger hovering millimetres from Zayn’s skin. When Liam looked up, their
faces were so close he could feel Liam’s breath touch his cheek. Up close,
Liam’s eyes weren’t brown. His irises were swollen black and they bore into
Zayn as he stared at him. Zayn exhaled and the motion closed the distance
between his chest and the tips of Liam’s fingers and for one treacherous second
he wanted to press into the touch. Instead Zayn inhaled and moved away, the
contact ending, his skin breaking into goose bumps.
“You said I make you nervous. Why?” Zayn asked, his voice low. A whisper.
Liam he leaned to inspect the writing on Zayn’s sternum. When he spoke his
voice was quiet. “You know why.”
“I don’t.”
“I fancy you,” Liam said, he still wasn’t looking at Zayn, which wasn’t a bad
thing because Zayn could let his eyes roam over Liam’s body. Up close, Liam’s
skin was so soft looking. His shoulders, arms, and legs were tan but the inside
of his thighs were a creamy white. “And you’re,” Liam looked up at Zayn, their
eyes locking, “beautiful.”
Zayn stopped breathing. He couldn’t bear to look at Liam anymore. He tore his
eyes away, staring at the grey walls over Liam’s shoulders. They sat, Zayn
acutely aware of Liam’s eyes roaming over his body. He kept his own eyes on the
wall and allowed himself to be studied. He was vulnerable and exposed; laid
bare. His too skinny arms, his knobby, bony knees, and his blotchy heart tattoo
which probably looked girly and tacky to someone like Liam. He wasn’t athletic,
not in the way Liam was. He hid behind his scowl and aloof air. He shifted,
bumping Liam’s knee again, but he didn’t move away, allowing that to be the
only contact between their bodies.
“You never answered my question,” Liam said.  Zayn met his eyes and fought the
urge to swallow, his throat was suddenly dry. Because–fuck, Liam was biting his
bottom lip and his cheeks were flushed and pink. Sexy.
“What question?” Zayn was glad his voice was unaffected. Not like that was any
help because if Liam happened to glance at his groin his erection would be
clearly visible.
“How do you jerk off?”
“I believe the question was ‘what do I think about when I jerk off’.”
Liam smiled. “You could answer that too.” Zayn shifted forward, the point of
contact between them increasing when his knee slid up further as it pressed on
Liam’s upper thigh.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s private.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you everything about my sex life. It’s only
fair that you tell me something about yourself.”
“I only asked you those questions because it was a requirement of the
programme,” Zayn said. Liam licked his lips again and scooted forward,
resulting in Zayn’s knee sliding up until it pressed into the soft, warm skin
of Liam’s inner thighs.
“Please,” Liam said, his eyes smouldering in the dimly lit room.
“I like to do it in bed at night.” Zayn closed his eyes, his breathing becoming
shallow and erratic. “I like to be naked because my skin heats up.” He
swallowed and leaned back onto his hands, palms flat on the ground. He felt
Liam shift closer and he wondered what Liam was doing. Was he looking at him?
Could Liam see the outline of his cock in his pants? He wanted to know, but he
was too scared to open his eyes because he didn’t know what he would do once he
knew. He raised his head, letting the cool air of the shelter waft through him.
“I don’t look at porn–I mean I used to, when I was younger. But I find that the
stuff that I think about–um–it gets me off the best.”
“And what do you think about?” Liam’s voice was deep. He sounded so close, like
if Zayn shifted a fraction, their cheeks would brush, and if Zayn tilted his
head to the right, just a little bit, their lips would touch.
“I think about-” Images flashed before Zayn’s eyes. Men. Naked. Erect cocks.
Tongues licking. Thick fingers gripping arse cheeks. Stuff he used to secretly
draw before he burned it, afraid his mum, or worse, his dad, would find it.
Stuff that got him hard. Stuff that got him off. “I imagine men-”
“Yes?” Liam whispered.
Fuck, Zayn could feel his dick throbbing in his pants. He wanted to palm
himself just to ease some of the pressure. He could feel the prickle of sweat
at the back of his neck. His entire body felt hot and he didn’t want to be
talking–not like this anymore. Zayn opened his eyes. Liam was just as close as
he thought he would be. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss.
“I imagine guys fucking each other,” Zayn said. Liam took a sharp intake of
breath. The dazed out, sultry burn in his eyes was so intense that Zayn felt
scalded. The flush of heat growing from his cheeks, running down his chest,
engulfing his heart. Zayn hung his head, his nose brushing against Liam’s
chest. He let his lips rest against Liam’s warm skin. Too close, yet he
couldn’t move away. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“I asked.” Liam’s voice reverberated through his chest right against Zayn’s dry
lips when he spoke. Zayn licked his lips, inadvertently licking Liam. Maybe
that had been his intention. Who knew? Try as he might, Zayn couldn’t discern
anything he could identify as being Liam. Just the vague taste of the beer he
had been drinking earlier. Zayn shifted, his nose brushing against Liam’s
throat, his now saliva-wet lips hovered over Liam’s heart, just above his left
nipple.
“Because it turns you on?” Zayn asked.
“Yeah.” Liam shifted closer. Zayn’s left knee was now fully pressed against
Liam’s right inner thigh.  Zayn felt Liam press a kiss on the side of his neck
before nuzzling it with his cheek. “Is this all right?” Liam whispered.
No, Zayn thought. “Yes,” Zayn said instead. He had to remember why he was doing
this. It wasn’t to cuddle against a half-naked Liam Payne. What step were they
on? Presence. Liam needed to be fully present. Zayn allowed himself one last
deep breath, taking Liam’s scent into his lungs, and if he touched his lips on
Liam’s chest when he moved away, what did it matter? He pulled back. Liam
seemed reluctant to stop the neck nuzzling. Zayn raised his hand, gripped
Liam’s shoulder, and pushed him back. Liam’s eyes were slightly unfocused when
he looked at Zayn. He squeezed Liam’s shoulder before he let go, shifting back
so his knee wasn’t against Liam’s thigh anymore. “I want you to inhale deeply.
Focus on everything you’re feeling and when you have noted everything, I want
you to say, ‘I’m back’.”
Liam closed his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and stilled. “I’m back.”
Zayn nodded. “Good.”
 
                                  *** *** ***
They dressed on opposite sides of the shelter, their backs to each other. Zayn
pulled on his jeans, gently easing the zipper over his tented-out pants. His T-
shirt was next and he quickly pulled it on and tugged as far down as he could
until it covered his erection. When he was dressed, he turned to find that Liam
was done. He stood facing Zayn, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Now what?” Liam asked.
“According to the book you note all negative vibrations: self-doubt, fear,
anxiety,” Zayn said, trying to keep his eyes from dropping to Liam’s crotch.
Liam was still hard and yes, those pants were too tight because it was fucking
obvious. “Once you’ve done it regularly, you can learn to be conscious where
you were impulse-driven in the past.”
“It’ll be my birthday soon so how long is this supposed to take?”
“It doesn’t say.”
Liam walked towards him, uncrossing his arms. “Do you think I’ll be ready by
then?”
“I’m not sure. How do you feel it went?” Zayn asked.
“I feel like if you had licked my chest any longer, I would’ve pushed you onto
your back, got on top of you and rutted against you until I came,” Liam said.
Zayn blinked, fighting the urge to step back or cross his arms because he knew
Liam was doing this on purpose. It was payback. I can’t believe you said all
that stuff.Liam stood before Zayn, just as close as he had been earlier. He
lowered his voice. “Zayn, you tell me, is that success or failure?”
Zayn closed his eyes. His heart was beating too fast. His hands were clammy.
His skin had that heated sensation that told him he was blushing. His cock
still throbbed in his pants. Zayn took a measured breath before he opened his
eyes. “I’m back,” he said.
 
 
***** Chapter 9 *****
After dinner, Zayn and Niall hung out in his room. Niall didn’t ask why he had
bunked off school with Liam. It was still early, only nine, and Zayn was too
buzzed to go to bed. Niall had picked up his guitar from his house and he sat
on Zayn’s bed, leaning against the headboard, playing an unfamiliar song. Zayn
was lying on his back on the sleeping bag, on the floor, his iPad forgotten
after he had done some useless online surfing. If Niall hadn’t been there, Zayn
probably would have turned off all the lights, stripped, got into bed, and
jerked off, most likely while thinking about Liam. So, maybe it was a good
thing Niall was here.
“You’re being extra broody today,” Niall said from the bed, head down as he
strummed.
“Just thinking, s’all,” Zayn said.
“About Liam?”
“Maybe.”
“How did he take to bunking off school?” Niall set the guitar aside on the
floor and got onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.
“He was worried about getting caught, but he got into it as the day
progressed.”
“You’re still helping him with the abstinence thing?” Niall asked.
“Yeah.” Zayn’s cheeks began warming as he remembered what he and Liam had
gotten up to earlier. He’d pushed things too far. He shouldn’t have told Liam
to undress. Fuck, he shouldn’t have undressed himself. He shouldn’t have kissed
Liam’s chest. Zayn wasn’t even sure if any of it was helping Liam in any way
and he only had Harry’s word to go on, “Liam said something weird about Harry
today.”
Niall turned onto his side and peered down at Zayn. “What’d he say?”
“That Harry said that we’re the ones that stopped being friends with him,” Zayn
said. “From what I remember, Harry dropped us the minute Louis smiled at him.”
“Uh-” Niall said. Zayn got onto his elbows because he expected a more enthused
reaction than that, because Niall had been there when it all went down when
Harry met Louis. The greatest love story never told. Niall was pulling at the
bed threads, not quite meeting Zayn’s eyes.
“What are you keeping from me?” Zayn asked.
“Josh told you about the guy I fancy, yeah?” Niall asked. Zayn nodded. “When my
dad moved us here from Ireland, it was awful. It was right at the beginning of
summer and I didn’t know anyone. I’d go to the arcade and everyone was in their
cliques and I’d play some games, eat ice-cream, and go home, feeling like shit
because I missed my friends. One time I went to the bakery and I met Harry. He
was nice. Friendly. When he found out I was new in town he invited me to hang
out at his place. You weren’t around- I think you were in Yorkshire visiting
your cousins.” Niall shrugged. “I hung out with Harry every day and what was
supposed to be the worst summer of my life evolved into possibly the best and I
sort of-” Niall sighed and resumed to tug at the thread of the duvet.
“You sort of what?” Zayn coaxed.
“I fell for Harry,” Niall said, cheeks turning bright pink. Zayn sat up
because- Harry was Niall’s secret crush?
“You and Harry?”
“It was never me and Harry,” Niall said, letting go of the duvet to roll onto
his back, talking to the ceiling. “He was the only person I could really talk
to at the time. He was kind, sweet, charming, but he was my friend, my only
friend, and I couldn’t just tell him that I fancied him. It would’ve ruined
things. So we hung out and then you came back and you were cool, chilled, and
it was great. The three of us. Then Louis.”
Yes, Louis. The storm cloud on everyone’s sunny day. Zayn said, “You never told
Harry how you felt?”
“I tried, but then I thought it would be easier to stop talking to him and let
him go hang out with Louis and Liam. At least I wouldn’t have to sit opposite
him during lunch, or sleep over at his house and hurt because he doesn’t like
me back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Niall sighed. “He used to make these cinnamon rolls for me. He always
managed to get some on his hair and clothes and he’d just smell of it.
Sometimes I can’t stand the smell of cinnamon because it reminds me of that
summer with him.”
Zayn got up and he leaned across the bed to squeeze Niall’s shoulder. He didn’t
know what to say. He’d known Harry for most of his life and having grown up
with him, his feelings towards the lad are akin to what you felt for a sibling,
but he could see the attraction. Harry was chivalrous in the way that was
almost archaic. He made friends easily without trying because he had this way
of making you feel like you were the only person in the world when you spoke to
him. He made you feel like you mattered. That was probably why it had hurt so
much when Harry wasn’t sitting with them during lunch break and chose to spend
his weekends cheering at Louis’ cricket matches. Whatever Zayn had felt when
they had lost Harry’s friendship had probably been a thousand times worse for
Niall.
“Niall, why didn’t you tell me this before?” Zayn eased himself onto the bed,
lying on his side. Niall turned to face Zayn, shifting back to make more space
on the small bed.
“I didn’t mean what I said, about you being self-absorbed,” Niall said, dark-
blond eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. “I guess it’s because I knew you’d feel
compelled to choose sides or something. And I couldn’t let you do that because
Harry was your friend long before you knew I existed and it would’ve been sad
for something like that to go to waste.”
Zayn smiled. “What makes you so sure I would have picked you?”
“Because I know you,” Niall said, “and you do what you think is right. You
wouldn’t have let me start high school friendless.”
“You sure about that?”
“Dead certain. Plus, you picking Harry would’ve meant you having to hang out
with Louis,” Niall said. Zayn couldn’t hold the grimace that overcame him.
Niall laughed. “Exactly. Louis andLeeeeeyum.”
“Sounds doable.” Niall leaned close, nose poised just above Zayn’s neckline.
Was Niall sniffing him? Zayn pushed Niall’s face away. “What the hell?”
“When did you start wearing Only The Brave?” Niall asked wryly. Zayn sniffed
his arms. Liam’s cologne must have rubbed off on him earlier when they were-
“I tried some on at the mall,” Zayn said.
“I’m sure you did,” Niall said. “What else did you try on?”
“Liam’s cock–that is what you want me to say?” Zayn said. Niall was gaping at
him, mouth hanging loose. Zayn couldn’t help but smile at the shocked
expression Niall was wearing. Fucking brilliant.
“Bloody hell, I can’t believe you just said that.” Niall shook his head. He
reached a hand to ruffle Zayn’s hair. “My work here is done.” Zayn shook him
off. Niall patted his head once before he sobered and asked dead serious,
“Zayn, do I need to be worried about you and Liam?”
Yes, Zayn thought. “No,” Zayn said instead. “I’ve got it.”
Niall regarded him, his blue eyes searching. Whatever the hell it was he was
looking for, he found it because he nodded and pulled Zayn into his arms. Zayn
relaxed onto his right shoulder, vaguely wondering if this was normal. They
never used to be like this before, before the new school year. Before Josh’s
garage band sessions. Before Liam. Was this some type of co-dependency fostered
from years of it just being the two of them? Zayn wasn’t sure. It felt nice.
When it was him and Niall, just the two of them, Zayn never had to be more than
what he was. Niall found him funny. Niall didn’t mind that he was rubbish at
sports. Niall was safe and a million miles away from the fever dream that was
Liam.
                                  *** *** ***
“I think u should know” Liam’s text said.
Zayn glanced at Niall who was engrossed in the football game playing on the
telly. It wasn’t even live as it was DVRed by his dad weeks back. Niall’s
satellite connection had been disconnected since the account was in arrears and
Greg couldn’t afford it. So, Niall had missed a lot of his football. Today was
dedicated to catching up.
“I should know what?” Zayn texted back.
“I prob shouldn’t say.”
Zayn rolled his eyes. “what?????”
“I may have jerked off da minute i got home last nite,” Liam’s text said. Zayn
glanced at Niall, who was muttering manically at a footballer that had missed a
penalty.
Zayn typed on his phone, “did u feel like u were compelled to do so?”
“I was very turned on,” Liam’s quick text said. “the front of my pants were
drenched wet with pre-cum. I practically had 2 peel them off.”
Fuck. Zayn’s fingers were frozen over the touchscreen keys. He didn’t know what
to say to that.
“I thought I was gonna go out of my mind if u didn’t touch me” A new text from
Liam said.
“But you’re fine.”
“I really wanted 2 touch u…”
Zayn licked his lips and typed, “That would have been irresponsible.”
“Did u want 2 touch me?”
“Later, Liam.” Zayn texted and put his phone away. Niall’s team must have
scored because suddenly Niall was on his feet happy dancing around the living
room.
“I told you we’d make it to the Champions League,” Niall said. Zayn felt his
phone vibrate in his pocket. He ignored it.
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn didn’t check his messages. He didn’t want to see any more of Liam’s texts.
He shouldn’t have allowed things to escalate so far the last time. Getting
half-naked while alone with Liam was probably the worst idea he’d had in a long
time. Zayn switched his phone off and tossed it in the furthest, most unused
corner of his wardrobe.
After the football game they put on their trainers and headed for Niall’s
house. The bag of stuff Niall had brought with him had contained enough clothes
to keep him going for a few days. Zayn’s mum only did laundry on Sundays which
meant that if Niall wanted clean clothes he would either have to borrow Zayn’s
or collect some from home. Niall opted for the latter.
Apart from the overgrown grass, there was no way to see from a glance that no
one was home at the Horan house. They walked up the driveway and Niall let them
in through the front door. Zayn hung back in the living room, looking at the
framed family photos mounted on the wall unit. Young Niall dressed in a sports
jersey, on the way to a game. Toddler Niall on a bike in the backyard of his
old house. Mr Horan dressed the smartest Zayn had ever seen him with Niall’s
mum, smiling at the camera at some company year-end function.
“That was a year before they divorced,” Niall said from behind him. Zayn turned
around. In hand, Niall had a stack of folded clothes and was carefully placing
them into the duffle bag he’d brought with him from his bedroom.
“They look happy,” Zayn said.
“I don’t remember them fighting.” Niall pulled the drawstrings of the bag
closed and tossed it onto the small living room table. “One day they were
together, my mum cooking breakfast for us every day, and then she’s moving out
and they’re divorcing. Then my dad decides that we should move to England.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last Christmas when I visited her in Ireland. She calls me whenever she can,
but long distance telephone bills don’t come cheap.”
“Don’t you think she needs to know?”
“So she can worry and work herself into an early grave trying to take care of
her elderly, infirmed mother and me? No thanks.”
“Niall-” Zayn said.
“Just drop it, Zayn,” Niall said, his tone sharp. “Please.”
Zayn raised his hands, palms facing outward. “Okay. I won’t bring it up again.”
He looked around. “Is there anything else we need to take with us?”
Niall glanced around. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Let’s bounce then.”
They left the Horan house and headed back to Zayn’s. Even though he had dropped
the matter with Niall, Zayn still felt that it wasn’t fair that Niall wasn’t
telling his mother that his dad had dumped him to live overseas leaving him
with non-existent financial resources and only dead-beat Greg for support. He
hated to think what would’ve happened to Niall if he didn’t have Zayn. He
certainly couldn’t rely on Greg. Niall had thought that Zayn didn’t need to
know. Most likely Niall was making the same judgment error with his mum.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Zayn managed to avoid Liam the first few classes on Monday which was quite the
feat considering that their school was not big to begin with, but he and Liam
were in different classes for the most part. Maybe he knew Liam’s timetable and
which corridors to avoid at certain times. His run was brought to an abrupt end
when he walked into the boys’ lavatory to find Liam washing his hands at the
basin. Zayn froze, hand on the door, considering if he could go back without
Liam seeing him. Any plan of action dissolved when Liam turned around and
spotted him.
“Hi, Zayn,” Liam said, yanking paper towels out of the dispenser and drying his
hands.
“Hey, Liam.” Zayn closed the door and walked to the urinal. He unzipped his
zipper and began to urinate. Once done, he zipped up, washed his hands, and
dried them with paper towels.
“Are you avoiding me?” Liam asked.
“No,” Zayn said. He went towards the door but Liam quickly stood in front of
him, blocking him. Zayn crossed his arms. “I need to get to class.”
“Is it because of the texts I sent?” Liam dropped his head, mumbling to the
floor. “I knew I shouldn’t have send them because you’re not like that.”
Zayn narrowed his eyes. “Not like what?”
“You know.”
“Honestly, Liam. I don’t.”
Liam looked up, meeting his eyes. “Into sexting.”
“Is that what you were doing?”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” Liam said. “You should completely ignore the
other texts I sent you.” Liam stepped closer. Zayn stepped back. “If you
thought the first lot were ‘irresponsible’, those were full out reckless.”
Zayn hadn’t read the texts. On Saturday, when he’d switched his phone back on,
he had seen the messages notification icon number increasing, but he had
ignored them. On Sunday when Niall had left for band practise, curiosity had
almost gotten the better of him and Zayn had come close to reading them. He’d
been in his room, headphones on, listening to some old Blue tunes as his thumb
hovered over the message icon, but he decided no. After that, no more messages
had come from Liam.
“Liam, you can’t be sending me stuff like that,” Zayn said. “It’s not helping
with what we’re trying to do.”
“I may be a mess and screw up a lot but I try not to lie to myself,” Liam said
as he stepped in closer to Zayn, leaning forward, speaking directly to his
lips. “When we were down in that shelter in nothing but our pants, I wasn’t the
only one with a hard-on.”
Zayn flushed and pushed Liam out of the way, walking towards the door. The
sound of students walking to class was dying down and he was going to be late.
Liam tugged at his arm, pulling Zayn away from the door before backing him up
against the wall, bracketing his body. Zayn found his arms coming down onto
Liam’s hips, drawing him close. Liam dipped his head down into the juncture
between Zayn’s neck and shoulders, breathing in deep. He raised his hands,
shoving Zayn’s blazer off Zayn’s shoulders. Zayn closed his eyes and leaned
back. Liam loosened Zayn’s school tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of
Zayn’s shirt. When he lowered his lips, this time they were pressed to Zayn’s
bare skin. Liam opened his mouth and began to suck at Zayn’s skin. Zayn pressed
his fingers deep into Liam’s hips, pulling him closer. They shouldn’t be doing
this. He should push Liam away and go to class. Anyone could walk in any
moment. A student, a prefect, a teacher.
Zayn opened his eyes when he felt Liam lick up his neck and scrape his teeth
against Zayn’s skin, which felt suddenly too tender. Zayn raised his hands and
blindly reached up from Liam’s hips to the back of Liam’s head, pulling him up.
He pushed himself off the wall and rotated their positions so that he was the
one bracketing Liam. He kept Liam’s gaze as he reached for Liam’s belt, resting
his hand there for a moment. He untucked the tail end of Liam’s shirt, his
fingertips brushing against Liam’s exposed stomach. He quickly bunched up
Liam’s shirt with one hand and stepped back, bent down low, and licked up
Liam’s stomach until his tongue reached the shirt and he couldn’t access more
skin. He raised his free hand and placed it over Liam’s abs, feeling him quiver
under his touch. He straightened up and leaned close to whisper into Liam’s
ear.
“What do you want from me, Liam?” Zayn let his hand drift lower, feeling the
changing texture of Liam’s skin where his palm was met with a thickening trail
of hair. He stilled his hand as he got to Liam’s buckle.
“I think it’s clear.”
“Not to me,” Zayn said. “You say you don’t want to slut about the school and
then you fool around with Sophia. You say you want me to help you change but
then you send me dirty texts, corner me in the bathroom, push me up against the
wall, and do things to me.” Zayn gripped Liam’s belt. “What do you want?”
“I want you,” Liam breathed.
“You can’t have me,” Zayn said. Liam reached between them, loosening the grip
which Zayn had on the belt.
“I don’t believe you,” Liam said. He guided Zayn’s hand over his crotch. Zayn
could feel Liam’s erection through the material of the trousers. The grip Liam
had on his hand was loose and he could easily pull away if he really wanted to.
But he didn’t. He kept his hand there, staring at Liam, not moving. Barely
breathing—
Someone was pushing the bathroom door open. Zayn let go of Liam to turn around
and button up his shirt, pulling his tie in place.
“Oh hi, Liam,” Zayn heard a vaguely familiar voice say. He turned back around
and saw Sandy.
“Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone or you’re spending another term playing
reserve,” Liam said while tucking his shirt in.
“Breathe a word about-” Sandy noticed Zayn for the first time and red bloomed
on his cheeks when he saw Zayn’s blazer on the floor. He assessed Zayn, who was
still fixing up his tie and took in Liam who had just finished tucking his
shirt and had gotten down to pick up the blazer to hand it to Zayn. “Uhh, I
didn’t, um, see anything,” Sandy said, looking away.
“Good,” Liam said. Zayn took the blazer and put it on. He really needed to get
to class. He walked to the door and reached for the handle. “Zayn,” Liam said
behind him.
“Yes?” Zayn turned.
“I uh-” Liam faltered and glanced at Sandy, who hastily entered a nearby stall
and shut it closed behind himself. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
What you resist, persists. Zayn nodded. “Yeah.” He opened the door and hurried
to class.
 
                                  *** *** ***
The lunch time bell rang and Zayn got his lunch from his bag heading to his and
Niall’s usual spot. Josh and Niall were already there, blond heads bowed down
over the table, half eaten lunch shoved aside while they stared at a cellphone
screen.
“Prefects better not see that or it will get confiscated,” Zayn said, sitting
down opposite Niall. Josh mumbled a greeting and continued to watch whatever
video he was streaming on his phone. “What’re you guys watching?”
“We found a cool video of my dad performing a gig in the nineties,” Josh said.
He pushed the phone across the table so Zayn could see. “It’s sick.”
Zayn looked at the grainy nineties style footage of a group of men performing
in a smoky club. “Which one’s your father?”
“The bassist,” Josh said. Now that Josh had said it was clearly apparent. The
bassist was a dead ringer for him. That is, if Josh dropped out of school,
developed a coke problem and grew a rat tail.
“Yeah, it’s pretty sick.” Zayn bit into the chicken and mayo sandwich his mum
had packed for him. “How was band practice yesterday?”
“We completed the song you wrote,” Niall said. He reached for the phone where
the YouTube video was still playing. He closed the video and fiddled around
until music began to play. “Here’s a recording. It’s not finished yet, but it
sounds pretty good.”
Zayn ate his lunch while the song played. The guitar strings were familiar and
reminded him of the countless summer days he and Niall had spent goofing around
in the garage. He smiled when he heard a soft voice begin to sing the lyrics he
wrote.
“Who’s singing?” Zayn asked when the song reached the chorus. He looked at
Niall who had become focused on eating his lunch as soon as he’d pressed play
on the song.
“Uh-” Niall began.
“Niall’s singing,” Josh interjected brightly. “He’s got such a good voice.
Sounds lovely, dunnit?” Niall wouldn’t meet Zayn’s eyes and chewed on his
sandwich while looking at a point just above Zayn’s shoulder.
“Yeah, it does.” Zayn kicked Niall under the table. “How come I’ve never heard
you sing?”
Niall rolled his eyes, “You’ve heard me sing.”
“Not like this. It’s-” Zayn listened as Niall sang the last line and the tune
faded. “Amazing.”
Niall flushed. Josh glanced between the two of them, an assessing expression on
his face. He looked like he was about to say something but the canteen doors
opened, Louis, followed by Harry and Liam, walked in.
“Hello, old friends,” Louis said brightly as he sat down next to Zayn.
“Hi,” Harry said sitting next to Louis. Liam sat next to Josh, mumbling his
greetings. Zayn drank his chocolate milkshake, wishing that the earth would
open up and swallow him down into its deepest depths. He’d spent the greater
part of the past hour trying to shake away the memories of what he and Liam had
done in the bathroom, while sporting a semi that wouldn’t go down and praying
the teacher wouldn’t call him up to write on the board. Just when he thought
he’d gotten Liam out his head, he’d absently pulled at his collar and placed a
finger on the spot where Liam’s lips had been. His skin had given a twinge of
pain. As soon as class had ended he’d gone to the bathroom, loosened his tie,
and unbuttoned his collar to study the love bite on the base of his throat. It
was much larger than he’d expected and a dark, angry red. He immediately did up
his collar, pulled his tie into place and shoved everything about how he’d
gotten that love bite out of his mind.
He’d succeeded, until now. Liam’s eyes was on him and Zayn remembered what it’d
felt like when he’d had Liam’s cropped head, hair sharp and bristle-rough in
his hands, Liam’s mouth, warm and wet, forming a tight seal over his skin. The
battle in Zayn’s mind consisting of whether he wanted to draw Liam in closer or
to shove him away.
“The chemistry project is done, Zayn,” Louis said. Zayn tore his eyes away from
Liam and glanced at Louis.
“When are you handing it in?” Zayn said.
“Tomorrow,” Louis responded. He glanced at the phone where Niall’s song was
looping. “What’s this indie Damien Rice shit?”
Harry took the phone, increasing the volume. “I recognise this voice.” He
listened for a beat then smiled broadly. “Niall?”
Niall’s face was redder than Zayn had ever seen it. “Josh and I are forming a
band.” He picked up his Sprite and took a long swallow.
“This sounds really good,” Harry said. Niall was now beetroot red. Louis
grabbed the phone back from Harry and switched the song off.
“You recognised his voice,” Louis said. “When have you heard Niall sing?”
Harry shrugged. “Lots of times.”
“‘Lots of times’ like when?” Louis’ voice had a tone that he normally reserved
for Zayn. Harry glanced at Niall, who quickly looked away. Zayn looked at Liam,
wondering if he had the faintest idea what was happening. Liam shrugged. Josh
looked like he wanted to be back at his table in the canteen with Sandy or his
Year 9 friends.
“Niall and I are friends, so he’s sung to me a few times.” Harry said. “I know
Zayn’s good at drawing and Liam’s ace at Assassin’s Creed. You know why?
Because they’re my mates.”
“But you haven’t fucked Zayn or Liam,” Louis said. “At least Ithinkyou haven’t,
because at this stage I guess I’m not sure anymore.” He got up and stomped
away, banging the canteen door loudly. Zayn glanced at Niall who had a stricken
look on his face. Liam’s eyebrows were lifted in surprise, so this was news to
him too. Harry’s eyes were wide and he was tearing up. No one said anything for
a moment.
“I think, um, I mean, there’s a project I have to do,” Josh said. He grabbed
his lunchbox and hesitantly took his phone before he practically sprinted away.
“Louis doesn’t have a right to be so shitty,” Zayn said when the canteen door
closed behind Josh. “I know he’s your boyfriend, but he’s a piece of work.’’
“He’s not always like that,” Harry said as he brushed a tear away. He stole a
glance at Niall who was seated back, arms crossed. “Niall, I told him that as
part of our full disclosure when we started sleeping together.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Niall said. His voice was gravelly and he cleared
his throat.
“I want to,” Harry said, glancing at Zayn. “This is for you too, Zayn. When
Louis and I started to get serious, I told him that I had lost my virginity
during the past summer to a friend. I didn’t tell him who it was.” Harry looked
away and went silent. “He knew I used to hang out with you two and he saw me
talking to you, Zayn, a few times, and assumed it was you.”
“What?” Zayn said.
“I tried to tell him that it wasn’t true, but he thought I was lying to protect
your Absolute image.” Harry sighed and sat back. “He became really fixated and
took it out on you. This past weekend I told him that it was Niall I had slept
with. I guess he’s still upset.”
“It’s a crappy thing for him to do regardless if he’s pissed off or not,” Liam
said.
“I’m not making excuses for him. I just wanted you to know where his anger is
coming from,” Harry said.
“He doesn’t have the right to do this.” Niall said, getting up, indicating that
Liam should shift so he could get by. “Head Boy or no Head Boy, he’s getting
his arse beat.”
Harry stood up. “Niall, don’t. This isn’t worth getting expelled for.”
“So it’s okay for him to call you a slut?” Niall asked.
“He didn’t call me a slut.”
“No, he just implied it.” Niall pushed his way past Liam, heading towards the
door. Zayn turned around to watch Harry follow after Niall.
“Don’t do this,” Harry pleaded. “Please.” Niall turned around.
“You listened to the record I made for you,” Niall said softly. “That’s how you
could recognise my singing voice.”
“Yes,” Harry said. He glanced back at the table. Zayn turned around so he
didn’t look like he was listening. He glanced at Liam, whose face was set in a
stern frown. Zayn went over that summer in his mind, trying to see if there
were any looks or suspicious touches that he may have missed. Nothing came to
mind. It was the three of them, practically chained at the waist. Then school
started and then—
But there had been that weekend he had attended his great aunt’s wake in
Liverpool. Originally, he was supposed to visit Harry at his stepdad’s
farmhouse, but his mum insisted he go to the funeral. He’d told Niall to go
ahead, that he’d go next summer, then school had started and by the time next
summer arrived, Harry was no longer their friend and he was rarely seen without
his adoring boyfriend at his side.
“You knew how I felt all this time, and you didn’t say anything?” Niall sounded
like he was close to tears and Zayn felt his heart ache for his friend.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
“I love you. That’s what every single song on that CD said. I love you. I need
you. Love me back,” Niall sounded like he was crying. Zayn glanced at Liam,
uncertain if he should get up and comfort Niall. Liam reached across the table
and squeezed Zayn’s hand.
“I didn’t know what to do.” Harry drew in a wheezy breath. “I didn’t want to
hurt you.”
“No, because it’s so much better to let Louis do it for you.” Zayn heard angry
footsteps and the canteen door being shut. Liam let go of his hand and got up.
Zayn turned around and saw Liam pulling Harry in for a hug.
“I knew Niall was in love with me that’s why—” Harry hiccupped and buried his
face into Liam’s blazer, his words warbled by the thick material. “I wasn’t in
love with him but cared for him, a lot. I thought that, I mean, most people
aren’t that lucky their first time. I thought I could give him something.
School started afterwards and I met Louis—” Harry began to sob and Liam rubbed
his back, not stopping when the bell sounded.
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn walked to class in a daze. As soon as he took a seat at the back of the
class, he rummaged deep into his backpack and discreetly typed out a message to
Niall. “Are u ok??” He pressed send and tried to focus on whatever the teacher
was saying in front of the class. He checked his phone repeatedly, but there
wasn’t a reply from Niall. He was about to put his phone away when a new text
came in from Liam.
“Can I see u after the club meeting?” Liam texted.
“Yeah,” Zayn quickly typed.
“Can u come by my house??””
Zayn paused. The last time he had been at Liam’s house—his face heated. He
didn’t trust himself around Liam, not after what happened earlier today. He
twisted the silver ring on his left hand, re-reading the text. He sighed and
typed. “I don’t think i should.”
“Becoz it’d b ‘irresponsible’?”
“Becoz when it comes to u i don’t think i can keep my hands 2 myself.” Zayn
pressed send and sat back, his heart thudding too quickly. He clenched and
unclenched his fist, barely hearing what Mrs Miller was saying. When he glanced
at his phone, there was a new message from Liam.
“I promise I’ll be the perfect gentlemen :)” Liam’s new message read.
“I’ll talk 2 u later.” Zayn switched his phone off and tried to focus on
whatever Mrs Miller was going on and on about in front of the class, but there
were too many thoughts swirling around in his head for him to even begin to
concentrate on school work. There was that thing with Liam in the bathroom.
What the fuck had that been? He could feel the bruise pulse hot on his neck. He
had enough work keeping his tattoos hidden from his parents so surely they
would notice if he started wearing polo necks and scarves all of the sudden. He
didn’t even know how he was even going to begin to explain the love bite to
Niall because there was so much you could keep hidden when you were sharing a
small bedroom.
Then there was the shit that had gone down at lunch. Niall/Harry/Louis. The
trifecta of doom. It was obvious that Niall hadn’t told him the entire story
when he had given him the big reveal of his secret crush on Harry. It hurt when
he really thought about it. Two weeks ago he thought he knew everything there
was to know about his best friend, but now Zayn kept finding out more secrets.
Big secrets. When he’d had his first kiss, he’d told Niall. Now he found out
that Niall had already slept with Harry weeks before then. God, he must have
seemed so lame and childish going on about first kisses when Niall had already
done so much more.
He couldn’t help but wonder if there were other things that Niall was keeping
from him.
 
 
***** Chapter 11 *****
‘Zayn Malik, please report to the Principal’s Office.  Zayn Malik, please
report to the Principal’s Office,’ the school intercom announced at final
period. All heads turned to look at Zayn and he sat back, crossed his arms, and
waited for Miss Carter to excuse him. She was new, youngish, and a bit
indecisive when it came to school protocol and she stood in the front of the
class, arms poised out mid-air, chalk clutched between her thumb and
forefinger, thinking.
“Class is almost over,” she said when the intercom went silent. “This section
is crucial for next week’s test, but whatever it is, it must be important if
Principal Woods is calling you out of class. Zayn, you’re excused.” Zayn got up
and headed towards the door. “Wait!” he stopped walking. “Pack your things in
case you’re still with the Principal when the bell sounds.” Zayn went back to
his desk, packed away his unused notebook, pencil case and walked out of the
class.
During his time at Monmouth, Zayn had become quite familiar with the
Principal’s Office. His first appearance occurred in Year 7 when he violated
Monmouth’s stifling Code of Conduct by styling his hair ‘too big’. He’d been
sent home with a written warning and he had subsequently gotten a haircut in an
attempt to mimic the boring hairstyles that his classmates wore. Then there had
been the time when he and Niall had been play-fighting and one of the prissy
prefects had reported it as ‘brawling’. They’d been given a week’s worth of
detention.
Zayn wondered what it would be this time.
Maybe one of his teachers had followed up with his parents and they knew he
hadn’t been sick on Friday, or maybe Sandy had ratted to a teacher about seeing
him and Liam in the bathroom. Either way, Zayn couldn’t say he’d object to a
suspension; a few days chilling at home would be nice. He could catch up on his
comics and binge watch a few TV shows-it’d be like a second summer holiday.
The hallways were deserted and his sole companion was his own heavy footfall as
he walked to the reception office. He entered the foyer, approached the
secretary’s desk, and waited for her to finish talking on the phone. Through
the frosted glass of Principal Woods’ door, he could see a few silhouetted
figures seated inside. Their voices were raised and for the first time since
he’d been called up, he felt a frisson of fear.
“You can go through, Mr Malik,” Miss Shelton said. Zayn tried to read her
expression. Was that disapproval in the shake of her head? Did her eyes relay
messages such as, ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’? He shook his head,
focussing on getting as much air in his lungs and willing his hands to be
steady. He blinked once, twice, and stepped into the office.
 
                                  *** *** ***
It was worse than he had imagined. Seated in Principal Woods’ office was his
mum, Mr Winston, Nurse Fields, and Principal Woods. They all turned and looked
at him expectantly.
“Take a seat, Zayn,” Principal Woods said. Zayn walked to the free chair and
sat down. He glanced at his mum quizzically. She gave him her I’m-disappointed-
in-you look and he quickly glanced away. “I’m sure you know why you’ve been
summoned.” Zayn gave him a blank look. There were so many things he’d done in
the new school term that could have resulted with him being summoned to the
Principal’s Office on a Monday afternoon. He wasn’t about to list out his many
transgressions without knowing which of Monmouth’s many rules he had been
caught breaking. “Niall Horan was absent at afternoon registration. We have
reason to believe he left the school premises after lunch.”
“Niall’s bunking off school?” Zayn asked.
“We called his father’s work number and we were told that Mr Horan had been let
go months back,” Principal Woods said. “We tried all the numbers we have on
file to contact Mr Horan, but they have all been disconnected. Your mum is
listed as Niall’s emergency number and we eventually called her. She informed
us that Niall has been staying with your family.” Principal Woods sighed and
adjusted his wire framed glasses. “Zayn, kindly shed light on this matter. Is
Niall experiencing difficulties at home?”
“I don’t know,” Zayn said.
“Zayn, sweetheart, tell the truth. If Niall is in some sort of trouble we need
to know,” his mum said, reaching out for his hand.
“I didn’t know Niall left school grounds,” Zayn said. “I swear, I last saw him
during lunch.”
“Do you know how we can get a hold of his father?” Nurse Fields asked. Zayn
shook his head. “Maybe his mum?”
“She lives in Ireland,” Zayn said.
“I’ve got her number,” his mum said, pulling out her phone. She read it out
while Nurse Fields took it down.
“Is there anything you would like to say to us before we contact Niall’s mum?”
Nurse Fields asked as she reached across Principal Woods’ desk for the
telephone. Zayn shook his head. He watched her dial before he glanced at Mr
Winston who was seated back, feet crossed at the ankles. Why was he even here?
Nurse Fields dialled the number and listened for a while before she hung up.
“No one’s answering.” The entire group was watching him, their eyes suspicious.
“He got into an argument during lunch so he must still be pissed off,” Zayn
offered because he couldn’t take the drawn-out silence anymore. “He probably
went home to cool down.”
“I noticed Niall wasn’t present at English period. Once I confirmed that an
adult hadn’t called in for him I was sure he was absconding, I utilised my free
period to take a drive to the Horan house,” Mr Winston said. “No one was home.”
“Maybe he wasn’t answering,” Zayn said.
“When I tried the front door, it was unlocked.” Mr Winston said, “I went
inside, looked around and the house was empty. It looked like it been so for a
while.”
“Zayn?” His mum asked. She looked so worried that the fear that had nipped at
him earlier grew in the pit that was his stomach. “Why has Niall been staying
over?”
“We wanted to hang out,” Zayn crossed his arms and stared down at the floor.
“As far as you are aware, is Niall’s father harming him in anyway?” this was
said by Nurse Fields.
“No,” Zayn said. It was weak and lacked conviction to all parties present
because he couldn’t trust that Niall would tell him. Oh, bloody hell. “I don’t
know,” he said eventually.  His mum patted his arm.
“You’ve asked my son enough questions. Go back to class, Zayn. I’ll see you at
home,” she said. Zayn got up and quickly walked to the door. As he was closing
it, he heard Principal Woods say that they would have to call the police. Zayn
pulled out his phone and dialled Niall. He listened as it rang and rang before
he finally hung up and typed out a text: “Niall, where r u?”
 
                                  *** *** ***
The final bell for the day sounded as Zayn was walking past Mrs Foster’s class.
He heard someone call his name and he turned to find Sophia walking towards
him.
“Hey, Zayn,” she said, approaching him. Zayn waited for her and stood aside
allowing the students walking by enough room to walk past.
“Hi, Sophia,” he said. Although they have shared a number of classes since Year
7, Zayn had never spoken to her before.
“I want to thank you for what you did,” her tone was low and she spoke quickly.
“You didn’t have to intervene but you did–so thanks.”
“It was the decent thing to do,” Zayn said.
“You’re different from the rest of them,” she said after a moment.
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I’m sure.” she leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek quickly, pulled back,
and walked away. Zayn watched her go before he turned on his heel to head to Mr
Winston’s class for the Absolute meeting.
 
                                  *** *** ***
Most of the members of Absolute were chatting outside the locked classroom door
as they waited for Mr Winston. Zayn sat a few feet away from them, his backpack
on the floor beside him, head leaned back against the wall, wondering what Mr
Winston, his mum, Nurse Fields and Principal Woods were discussing and if they
would delay the meeting. He should probably get up and tell the group that Mr
Winston might be late. But first, he’d give Mr Winston another five minutes.
Two minutes in, Mr Winston arrived. He apologised for being late while he
unlocked the classroom door. Absolute members who had been waiting outside
walked into the class and moved the chairs around. Once the circle formation
was done Zayn sat down and he and the other students present waited for
latecomers. Liam was one of the last to walk in and he took a seat at the last
chair available, three seats from Zayn’s right. He gave Zayn a quick smile when
he caught his eye.
“I believe that was the last of the stragglers,” Mr Winston said. “We have a
few admin issues to discuss. Some of you didn’t sign the attendance register
last week so please ensure you do. You’ll find it on my desk. Mrs Miller has
asked that we change the day the club meets because-” Mr Winston squinted at
his notepad, “Perrie has Interact Club duties to fulfil on Mondays.” Mr Winston
looked up. “I’m not sure if there’s a day available that won’t clash with other
members’ extracurricular activities, Perrie.”
“Can we do a quick check just to see?” Perrie asked.
Mr Winston nodded, “Can we nominate a new day to schedule Absolute meetings?”
He was met with silence. “Zayn?”
“Wednesdays are out because Liam has cricket practice.” Zayn said, looking
around the room. “Uh, Debate Club meets on Thursdays. You’re a member right,
Margaret?” He was met with a nod from Margaret. “I think most of us agree that
on Fridays nobody wants to spend a second longer at school than necessary.” A
few people laughed and Zayn concluded, “Which leaves us with Tuesdays. Does
anyone have practice or other school related activities scheduled on a
Tuesday?” he looked around, no one said anything. He said, “I guess Tuesday it
is.”
“Everyone please note that club meetings are now on Tuesdays. Same time, same
venue,” Mr Winston said. He glanced at his notepad. “That was it for admin.” He
crossed his legs at the knee and addressed the group. “Just before we begin,
I’d like to touch base with everyone about the last two sessions we’ve had. I
know the abstinence exercises are overwhelming initially and if you feel
discomfort with any topic we discuss, please inform me as soon as possible.
We’re all here to learn and we should do that in an environment that feels
safe.” he glanced around the room. “Does anyone want to share what their
experience has been with the club so far and what they’ve learnt?” The group
was quiet. Alistair raised a hand. “Yes, Alistair?”
“Uh, I’m new to the club and I’ve found what I’ve learnt so far very
informative. There’s just one thing that’s been worrying me,” Alistair cleared
his throat. “I’m not sure if any of you have this problem. Er, if you’re seeing
someone, when’s the right time to tell them about the sex abstinence thing?”
“That’s a good question, Alistair,” Mr Winston said, “and it’s one that’s been
raised in the past. Would some of our more senior members perhaps address
Alistair’s query?”’ Since he was the most senior member there, Zayn was certain
that it would be a matter of time before he was elected to answer the query. He
raised his hand.
“I’m not sure if there really is ever a ‘right time’ to tell someone,” Zayn
said.
“Any time before your wedding night,” Margaret said and some of the club
members laughed.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Zayn scooted forward on his chair. “I think it’s
important to have communication in any relationship. I think your abstinence
must be stated when you feel you’ve reached a place where you feel comfortable
to share something so personal about yourself.” He looked around the room,
careful not to meet Liam’s eyes. “Uh, I’m sure if they truly care for you,
they’ll respect your decision.”
“If I may also add,” Mr Winston began, “when it comes to disclosure, sooner
rather than later is always the best course of action. Unfortunately, there are
certain types who will seek out young people like yourselves with the ultimate
goal of taking your virginity. It’s perverse, but you need to be aware of such
things and to be careful with the characters you surround yourself with. For
today’s session, please pull out a blank page and write down all the reasons
you’re a part of this club and why you have chosen to be abstinent.”
 
                                  *** *** ***
After they wrote their essays, Mr Winston informed them that he would be
distributing DVDs of a documentary titled “How to lose your Virginity”. He only
had four copies of the film and he couldn’t screen it at school due to some
parents having objections on its content and deeming it inappropriate. Absolute
members with signed parent permission slips were to be loaned a copy to watch
at home by themselves or in groups before the meeting on the 9th of September.
The meeting adjourned and Zayn walked out the classroom. He checked his phone.
Niall had sent him a text saying he was fine and just needed some time alone.
Zayn texted a reply recounting how he was called to the Principal’s Office.
Niall apologised and told him he’d call him later. Zayn put his phone away when
he saw Liam waiting for him outside the class.
“You haven’t changed your mind right? You’re still coming over?” Liam asked as
they walked towards the front entrance of the school.
“Yes,” Zayn said softly.
“I’m sure you can muster more enthusiasm than that,” Liam said. “This isn’t
some scheme I’ve dreamt up to get you alone so I can seduce you.” They walked
out the gate, heading towards the quiet street.
Zayn glanced at Liam and said, “What was that earlier in the bathroom?”
Liam shrugged. “A momentary lapse of judgment and control. Would it help if I
promised not to let it happen again?”
“Maybe,” Zayn said. Liam stopped walking and raised his left fist, pinkie held
out. When Zayn looked at it blankly, Liam used his right hand to raise Zayn’s
hand up, pulling out his pinkie. He locked their pinkies.
“I, Liam James Payne, solemnly swear not to initiate any behaviour with you,
Zayn Javadd Malik, which might be classified as ‘sexually inappropriate’.” He
let go of Zayn’s pinkie, dropping his hand. “Now let’s go.”
They walked to Liam’s house in silence. Zayn wanted to ask if Liam had seen
Harry since lunch and if he had, did Harry say anything. But it didn’t feel
right to just bring it up so he waited until they had entered Liam’s house and
were making their way to his bedroom to raise the question.
“I saw Harry during woodwork. He didn’t want to talk about it so I stopped
asking questions,” Liam said, opening his bedroom door. Zayn walked in, dropped
his bag on the floor, and sat at Liam’s desk.
“Did you have any idea that Harry and Niall had slept together?” Zayn asked,
Liam shook his head.
“None whatsoever. I still can’t believe it.”
“If I see that weasel Louis I’m going to give him the Bradford special.”
“Hey, that’s one of my best friends you’re talking about.”
“You do realise that Louis’ a mean tosser who relishes on making others feel
like shit?” Zayn asked.
“I know he’s a bit prickly, but once you get to know him, to really know him—it
actually blows my mind sometimes the capacity he has to care about someone.”
“Are we talking about the same person here? Louis Tomlinson, school Head Boy?
Also known in the teachers’ lounge, inexplicably if you ask me, as the boy most
likely to be Prime Minister?” Zayn snipped. “Personally, I’ve always thought he
was most likely to wind up on those police posters at the Post Office with
something like ‘wanted for questioning in regards to flatmate’s suspicious
disappearance’.”
 “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around the fact Louis is a good person
because you don’t know him as well as I do,” Liam said.  “I’d hate to think
what you thought I was most likely to become before we got to know each other.”
“That’s easy: Liam Payne, the boy most likely to play for the National Cricket
and Rugby teams andrescue kittens from trees in his spare time,” Zayn said.
“You know what I think of you?” Liam asked. Zayn shook his head. “Zayn Malik,
the boy most likely to break my heart.” Zayn rolled the chair across the room
until his knees hit Liam’s bed. He stared at Liam before he spoke again.
“I can’t break something that I don’t have.”
“If you only knew,” Liam lifted his right leg and dropped it on the other side
of the chair. This way his legs were on either side of the chair and he was
caging Zayn in. Liam shifted until he sat on the very edge of the bed and he
placed his hands on the armrests, fingertips brushing Zayn’s elbows lightly.
Liam pulled the chair forward and its wheels squeaked as they made the short
journey, the sound only dying out when Liam’s face was as close to Zayn’s as it
had been on Friday at the fallout shelter.  Zayn could feel Liam’s breath on
his face and when he inhaled, that familiar scent filled his lungs. Only The
Brave, Niall had called it. How apt.
“You promised you’d keep your hands to yourself if I came over.” Zayn’s eyes
dropped to Liam’s lips before he looked up again, meeting Liam’s eyes.
“And they are.” Liam took his hands off the armrests and placed them on his own
lap. He leaned closer, his lips now millimetres away from Zayn’s.
“I also remember you saying something about not initiating sexually
inappropriate activities with me,” Zayn added.
“Kissing isn’t sexually inappropriate. It’s quite PG, last I checked.”
“Not the way we do it.” Zayn lifted his right foot and he dropped it on the
bed, resting it in the space between Liam’s spread thighs. He tapped it against
the duvet and leaned back on his chair, watching Liam. When Liam shifted
forward his crotch almost brushed against the sole of Zayn’s shoe.  A beat
passed before Zayn propelled himself away from the bed and away from Liam’s
burning eyes. “What did you want to show me?”
“So it’s back to business, Mr Malik?” Liam gave a dramatic sigh, got up, and
went to his wardrobe. He opened it and pulled out three wrapped gifts. He
handed them to Zayn and sat back down on the bed.
“What’s this?” Zayn asked flipping the card on top of the first gift.
“They're your birthday presents,” Liam said. The first card read, “Dear Zayn,
happy 14th birthday. Kind Regards, Liam.” Zayn looked up to find Liam
fastidiously studying the design of his pillow.
“Firstly, my birthday was months back. Secondly, I turned sixteen not
fourteen.”
“I know, I got that one a while back,” Liam said. Zayn read the other cards.
One was for his fifteenth birthday and the other was for his sixteenth.
“Liam... I don’t understand.”
“I could never gather the courage to give you the gifts,” Liam said. “Each year
I’d say this was the year I’d do it, that I’d somehow get to know you, befriend
you, and—,” he shrugged. “It never happened. Somehow, through a series of
screwed up events, we’ve been in a room long enough to get to know each other,
so I thought it was time you should have them.”
“Can I open them?” Zayn asked. Liam nodded. Zayn opened the three year old gift
first. It was an Iron Man comic titled Iron Man Tales of Suspense #49. “How did
you know?” Zayn asked, tracing the comic cover design through its plastic
sleeve.
“Harry mentioned you like comics,” Liam said, “and I saw from the stuff you’d
graffiti on your lunch table that Tony Stark was your favourite.”
“I never got you anything,” Zayn realised. Shit, he hadn’t even invited Liam to
his birthday parties. The guilt must have been apparent in his eyes because
Liam shook his head.
“It’s okay,” Liam said.
“But you went through all this effort.” Zayn opened the second gift. It was a
replica of Thor’s hammer signed by Chris Hemsworth. “And this must’ve cost a
lot.”
“My uncle worked on the film set when they shot The Dark World in London, so it
didn’t.” Liam said. Zayn opened the third gift. It was a small leather-bound
book. A Collection of Poems and Short Stories by Zayn Malik, the cover read.
“You had my poems and short stories printed and bound,” Zayn said as he ran his
fingers over the gold inscription. He opened the book, going over the table of
contents. There were the essays and poems he’d written for the school’s
gazette. Some he had long forgotten about, like the one he did for the inter-
school poetry competition, and the comic strip series he’d submitted to the
town’s newspaper for its school edition.
“I didn’t like the way the newspaper cut outs I had had become all yellow and
faded,” Liam said quietly. “The words you wrote deserved better than that.”
Zayn placed the gifts on Liam’s desk and looked at him, feeling his heart swell
in his chest.
“Liam, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Thank you,” Zayn said. He propelled the chair back across the small space
between Liam’s desk and bed until he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. He
got up to place his hand carefully on Liam’s chest and slowly pushed him back
onto the bed. Liam shifted, watching Zayn through half-closed eyes as he got
onto the bed, settling his knees between Liam’s thighs.  He balanced himself
with his other hand and stared down at Liam.
“Zayn—” Liam began.
“Shhhh.” Zayn closed the distance between their faces and kissed him. The kiss
was slow and languid and so different from the one they had shared the last
time they were in this room. That Zayn had kissed Liam to make a point. This
Zayn was kissing Liam because it felt right. It felt good. He eased his tongue
into Liam’s mouth while he untucked Liam’s shirt tail and then crept his hand
under Liam’s shirt, pressing his fingers onto the soft skin of Liam’s abdomen.
Liam gasped and pulled away from the kiss, “Your hand’s cold.”
“Sorry.” Zayn started to move his hand away but Liam made a protesting sound
and he stopped. He kissed Liam again, lowering his body fully on Liam, their
chests pressed tightly, his hand trapped between their bodies. He wanted to get
closer. With his body balanced on Liam’s, he brought his left hand up and used
it to hold Liam’s jaw, keeping Liam’s mouth open while he ran his tongue
alongside Liam’s, tasting him. When Zayn pulled away his lips were wet with
saliva and he was breathing hard. “I warned you that I wouldn’t be able to keep
my hands to myself,” Zayn said.
‘But Ipromised to be a gentlemen, so we cancel each other out,” Liam said. Zayn
lowered down again, kissing his smile onto Liam’s mouth. How was that for
logic?
 
***** Chapter 12 *****
On Tuesday, Zayn stopped by the bathroom, and he should have known given his
track record that he would be accosted, because that was his life now. Instead
of Harry or Liam this time, it was Louis who followed in after him. Zayn sighed
as Louis checked all the stalls before locking the door. Zayn had his wee, did
up his zipper, and washed his hands all while Louis watched from the door.
“What?” Zayn asked.
“It was wrong of me to announce Harry and Niall’s past liaison at the table,”
Louis said.
Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Is that an apology?”
“I don’t owe you an apology.”
“The same can’t be said about Niall and Harry.”
Louis stepped away from the door, unfolding his arms. “I’ve already apologised
to Harry. Niall won’t take my calls and he’s not at school today. That’s why
I’m speaking to you.”
“I don’t know where Niall is,” Zayn said. He was telling the truth. Yesterday
evening, he had arrived home around seven and Niall hadn’t been there. A quick
look around his room informed him that Niall must have dropped by at the house
at some stage because his bags were gone. He’d told his parents that Niall had
gone to stay over at Greg’s. They didn’t believe him but no one had Greg’s cell
number so Zayn hadn’t been caught in the lie. His dad had the bright idea to
contact Greg via Twitter and had logged in as Zayn and sent Greg a DM asking if
he knew where Niall was. Greg hadn’t replied which gave Zayn some time to track
down Niall so they could concoct a cover story for his continued absence and
why he was staying at his house. He’d spent the rest of the evening sending
texts, calling and trying to get a hold of Niall, all to no avail. Eventually
he went to bed hoping that Niall would be at school the next day—but that
wasn’t the case. 
“I thought you two were joined at the hip.” Louis wasn’t wearing his glasses
and this close up Zayn could see the dark shadows under his eyes.  “I know you
don’t think I’m good enough for Harry,” Louis said, eyes shifting around as he
looked at everything in sight but Zayn.
“What gave you that impression?” Zayn said.
“And you would be right. I’m not good enough for Harry, in fact, I can’t even
wrap my head around him ever choosing me over Niall,” Louis said wryly.
“Because before when I thought it was you, I thought it was fine. I got it. You
guys were ‘childhood sweethearts’. You were experimenting. I hated you, but
whatever, Harry chose me. It was bearable. But then I find out I’ve been hating
the wrong person.” Louis clenched his jaw. “I don’t know how to compete with
Niall.”
“Is this what this is to you? A competition?”
“It’s more than that. Harry’s intense. It’s all or nothing with him and right
now he’s making life changing decisions based on the assumption that we’re
going to be together for the rest of our lives. He didn’t even want to go to
Oxford, but now he’s applying at Cardiff Sixth Form College. He says that he’s
in love with me, not Niall. He was my first and Niall was his—I keep wondering
if he still has feelings for Niall.”
“If he says he loves you, then he loves you,” Zayn said. He wasn’t even sure
why he was trying to convince Louis of Harry’s devotion. The fact that Harry
Styles was head-over-heels for Louis Tomlinson was apparent to anyone who had
eyes. That’s one of the reasons that Zayn disliked Louis, because he never felt
that adoration was reciprocated. At least not fully, anyway. “I’m just not sure
if you feel the same.”
“You know fuck all about me,” Louis said, steel settling into his blue eyes.
“With a sunny disposition like that, I wonder why?” Zayn said.
“Just tell Niall when you see him that I’m sorry and if he-” Louis paused and
sighed heavily, all vitality seeming to be sucked from him with that sigh. “If
he and Harry decide that they want to give what they have a go, tell him I’ll
step aside.”
“Fine,” Zayn said. He’d lost track on the number of unanswered texts and voice
messages he’d sent Niall. He was seriously starting to worry about the lad and
was planning to stop by the Horan house after school to check if Niall had
returned home.
Louis gave him an awkward head nod, unlocked the bathroom door, and left. Zayn
glanced at his wristwatch. He was going to be late. Again. Tardiness,   kissing
Liam, finding out Niall was keeping secrets from him, and getting accosted in
the boys’ bathroom was something that was now part of his life. He ran to
class.
                                  *** *** ***
A car was parked on Niall’s driveway. It was a grey sedan with London licence
plates which eliminated Greg. Zayn walked to the front door and knocked. It was
a long while before he heard footsteps and Niall cracked the door open.
“Hey Niall,” Zayn said. To say Niall looked like shit would be an
understatement. His eyes were red-rimmed and blood shot, his hair mussed up and
not in a sexy bed-head sort of way, and the skin underneath his eyes was
shadowed with fatigue. There were voices coming from the living room. Grown-up
sounding, one male, very stern and London-accented, the other female, too faint
to make out. “Niall, what’s going on?” Zayn whispered.
“Scotland Yard has some info about my dad,” Niall said. He used the sleeve of
his jersey to wipe at his eyes.
“Niall, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” Zayn said. “Louis had no
right to ambush you and Harry like that. If you want to talk about it, I’m
here. If you want me to never bring it up again, I’ll never bring it up again.
Whatever you need.” Zayn placed his hand on Niall’s shoulder, squeezing
lightly. Niall nodded once before his face crumbled. “Shhh, shhh, come here.
It’s all right.” Zayn hugged Niall.
“Niall?” The woman’s voice called from the living room. Niall pulled away,
wiping at his eyes again.
“My mum’s calling,” Niall said.
“Your mum’s here?”
“She arrived this morning. Come through with me, I’m sure she’ll like to see
you.” Niall led the way to the living room where Mrs Horan was sitting on the
sofa and a suited man was seated opposite her.
“Hello.” Zayn nodded at Mrs Horan and she gave him a tight smile. He gave the
suited man a quizzical look.
“This is Detective Warren. He’s here about my dad.” Niall said. He sat down on
the sofa next to his mum and she instantly reached for his hand.
“The issue is sensitive-” Detective Warren began to say.
“You can talk in front of Zayn. He’s practically part of the family,” Mrs Horan
said. Detective Warren nodded and opened a small leather-bound notebook.
 “I believe you lodged a child abandonment suit against your husband
yesterday?” he said. Mrs Horan nodded. “We ran his name on our database and
I’ve driven down from London to personally inform you that he hasn’t left the
country. In fact, he wouldn’t have been able to if he tried.” Detective Warren
paused. Zayn glanced at Niall and his mum. Mrs Horan had a white-knuckled grip
on Niall’s hand and Niall looked like he wasn’t even breathing. Zayn felt his
heart start to speed up. Mr Horan couldn’t be-? Could he? What would happen to
Niall? Would he go back to Ireland? Detective Warren flipped a page and spoke
up again.
“Your ex-husband had a warrant out on his name for his participation in a grand
larceny scheme. He pleaded guilty after his arrest and presented himself to
begin his sentence on the 15th of June this year.”
“He’s in prison?” Niall asked.
“Yes.”
“How long is his sentence?” Mrs Horan asked.
Detective Warren checked his notes, “Three years, with a possibility of parole
after a year.”
“So he was just going to leave me on my own for a year?” Niall got to his feet,
his face reddening with anger. “That was the plan, huh? ‘I’ll let Niall fucking
fend for himself while I chill in the clink.’”
“Far be it from me to say what goes on in the mind of a man like your father.”
Detective Warren got to his feet. “You have my card so please call if you have
any further questions. I’ll see myself out.” He gave a curt nod and left.
Niall was pacing. “I can’t fucking believe this.” His mum reached for him, but
Niall shook his head and stormed out the room.
                                  *** *** ***
After supper Zayn told his parents about Mr Horan’s imprisonment and the real
reason why Niall had been staying with them the past week. First they asked a
lot of questions and since he was no longer deemed a trustworthy person, they
called Mrs Horan directly to confirm that she really was in town and Niall was,
in fact, in her care. Afterwards they gave him a long speech about honesty and
Zayn nodded, making sure he looked decently admonished, and waited for his
punishment. He was sent upstairs with no telly, Wi-Fi, iPad, iPhone or laptop
privileges for him for the next two weeks.
His sister knocked on his door. “Niall’s dad is in prison?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Zayn said.
“Will he be okay?”
“His mum’s here so she’s taking care of him,” Zayn said. She handed him an
object through the door and he took it. It was a cellphone.
“I know they took yours. Now you can check up on him.”
“Thanks.” he closed the door and dialled Niall’s number. The phone rang and
rang before it eventually went to voicemail. He hung up without leaving a
message. After a moment he dialled Liam’s number.
“Hello?” Liam said when he picked up.
“I heard you were looking for an older girl seeking a good time,” Zayn said,
doing his best girl voice. He’d been told it sounded pretty convincing.
“I think you have the wrong number,” Liam said.
“You’re not Liam James Payne?”
“I am, but I didn’t place an ad about ‘seeking a good time’,” Liam said. 
“Ma'am, I think I’ll hang up now.”
“It’s me,” Zayn said quickly, dropping the girl voice. “You’re way too polite,
by the way.”
“That’s how my parents raised me,” Liam said. There was rustling on the other
side of the line.
“What’re you doing?” Zayn asked.
“Getting comfortable.”
“This is not one of those type of calls.”
“What type of call?”
 “The type you need to get comfortable for.”
“It’s eleven pm and as far as I’m aware, those calls are the only ones made at
this hour,” Liam said. “Why’re you calling me from a blocked number?”
“My parents took my phone away.”
“Did they finally find out about your tattoos?”
“No.”
“Was it the drinking? Or the smoking? Bunking off school? Now that I think of
it, you do a lot of illicit things, Zayn. I knew I shouldn’t have let the
virginity thing fool me.”
“They found out I’ve been lying to them about the reason why Niall’s been
staying with us.”
There was silence on the other side of the line before Liam asked, “Why would
you lie about that?”
“It’s not my story to tell,” Zayn said. He turned onto his back, staring up at
the posters he had on his ceiling. “I just needed to talk to someone.”
“I’m glad you chose me.”
“Me too.”
***** Chapter 13 *****
The week went by quickly after that. He saw Liam a few times when they would
meet at the shelter, where they laid down a blanket on the floor and made out
for what felt like hours. Kissing Liam had to be one of his favourite things in
the world. In that moment when their arms were entangled, Liam’s lips against
his, breathing in unison, Zayn couldn’t think of anywhere else he would rather
be. Liam kissed him differently: he’d place his palm on Zayn’s cheek, running
his fingers along his jaw when Zayn opened his mouth for him. There was nothing
rushed or urgent about their kissing and it was like they had all the time in
the world and there was nothing else they needed but their lips on each other.
At school, when he walked passed Liam in the corridors, he’d smile, remembering
the way he’d brushed his knuckles on Liam’s cheek the day before. Liam would
smile back and Zayn felt like he was walking on cloud nine.
Niall was on excused leave because his mom had taken him to Ireland with her.
When they spoke at night, Niall seemed unsure whether he would come back to
finish the year at Monmouth. Zayn wished he would because he couldn't imagine
what the rest of the school year would be like if he didn’t have his best
friend beside him. He wasn’t the only person who missed Niall. He now sat with
Josh, Sandy, and the rest of their friends during lunch and he saw the crushed
look on Josh’s face whenever Niall was mentioned. Harry and Louis seemed to
have reconciled and were back to being coupley. They sat with Liam during lunch
and Louis had even tried to call him over to join them. Zayn had declined,
because at the end of the day he was on Team Niall. Louis kept up his nice guy
act, giving Zayn all the credit on their chemistry project when they presented
it in class. Whatever.
Zayn made his way to the room above the auditorium because he had PE next and
he didn’t feel like going. It wasn’t any fun without Niall and he hated the
exercise. He pulled the stage curtains aside and made his way to the steps
behind the stage. The door to the room was ajar so he pushed it open, walked
in, and froze when he spotted Liam and Sophia in what appeared to be a heated
argument.
“Liam, it’s my decision to make. You can’t—” Sophia spotted Zayn and she
immediately went silent. Liam turned around.
“Uh, sorry for interrupting,” Zayn said, watching as Liam stepped away from
Sophia.
“Zayn, we were just—” Liam began.
“You don’t need to explain, Liam,” Zayn said. He glanced at Sophia. “Hi,
Sophia.” She gave a tight smile in return, folding her arms across her chest.
“I’ll see you after school,” he said to Liam before he pulled the door shut and
pressed his head against it for a moment as he fought down the red sting of
jealousy that was churning in his gut. He decided that he’d go chill in his
spot behind Mrs Miller’s class instead. Fuck PE.
                                  *** *** ***
They met up at Zayn’s house because it was raining and the shelter got all
mouldy and swamped when it rained. Liam’s mum was working from home so his
house was out. Zayn’s sisters were back from school and they gave him a look
when he led Liam through the living room; in return he gave them his best
don’t-ask-questions-and-get-lost look.
Zayn locked his bedroom door and he jiggled the handle just to be sure, and
since his sisters could be nosy, he covered the keyhole with his school tie.
Liam sat down on the bed, his school bag abandoned on the floor, watching him
with a raised eyebrow.
“You don’t want to know,” Zayn said. He dropped his bag on the floor, took his
blazer off, and pushed Liam onto his back, climbing on top of him. They kissed.
Zayn ran his fingers along Liam’s nape. Liam’s hair was starting to grow out
but it was still too short for him to pull, so he scraped Liam’s scalp with his
fingernails. He was rewarded by a low, pleased moan escaping from Liam’s mouth.
They were definitely getting really good at snogging. Zayn felt Liam grip his
hips and then he was being flipped back onto the bed and Liam was hovering
above him, eyes roaming over Zayn’s body.
“I get the feeling you like this better,” Zayn said, running his hands up and
down Liam’s forearms. “Being on top that is.”
“I can get a bit bossy,” Liam said with a smile. He leaned forward, but instead
of kissing Zayn, he ran his tongue up along Zayn’s neck, leaving Zayn’s skin
goosebumped in its wake. He pulled away and whispered in Zayn’s ear. “It’s my
birthday tomorrow.”
“I know,” Zayn said. He placed his hands on Liam’s hips before daring to slide
them lower until he gripped Liam’s arse. “What does the birthday boy want?”
Liam stared down at him, brown eyes wide and searching. “Ask me tomorrow and
maybe I’ll tell you.”
He dipped his head down, capturing Zayn’s mouth with his own. Zayn spread his
thighs further apart and raised his hips. The first time their groins brushed
together, Liam froze and pulled back. Zayn opened his eyes and saw Liam staring
at him, mouth hanging open as he breathed harshly. Zayn bucked his hips up
again, ensuring Liam knew that the contact had not been accidental. They’d done
this a few times this week, rubbing up against each other, with Liam stopping
and pulling away when they came close to coming. Those other times it had been
in the shelter, far removed from their real lives. It seemed so much more
serious when they were in his bed but he ignored the niggling worry and did it
again and this time Liam thrust down against him, their cocks brushing through
the layer upon layer of clothing separating them.
He could hear his own harsh intakes of breath and the patter of rain against
his window. Liam’s lips were warm and wet and their kiss grew deeper, his
tongue plunging into Zayn’s mouth. It felt good, incredibly so, and Zayn spread
out further, gripping Liam’s arse and writhing up against him. He was going to
come this time if he kept this up, undoubtedly. No way he couldn’t with Liam
rutting down hard against him, the friction of Liam’s body against his feeling
beyond spectacular and much, much better than anything he’d ever done to
himself. The weight of Liam on him, his familiar scent, the heat where their
groins touched. No way could he hold back and he bucked up harder, moaning when
Liam licked into his mouth and eased a hand down between their bodies, placing
it over Zayn’s clothed hard-on. When he pressed his palm down, Zayn whimpered,
grinding up against it. Liam pulled his hand away and he kissed Zayn once with
finality before he eased himself off Zayn to settle beside him. Zayn panted for
a while before he turned to lay on his side, so he was face-to-face with Liam
who was also still breathing hard. They looked at each other as their breathing
slowed down, the only sound in the room being the soft hiss of the rain hitting
the window.
“What’re you thinking?” Zayn whispered.
“I can’t believe it’s only been two weeks since we started this,” Liam said as
he raised his hand to cup Zayn’s face. “I feel like a different person.”
“Less sex addict-y?” It was meant as a joke, but it sounded flat and serious to
Zayn’s ears.
“I feel like I always want to be with you.” Liam’s eyes were serious. “Like if
I ever was inside of you, I’d never want to leave.”
“Liam-” Zayn felt the heat flush out across his cheeks. Liam ran his thumb
along Zayn’s lower lip and Zayn felt the words of protest die out, because the
way Liam was looking at him hit him square in the chest and there wasn’t room
for doubt or questions. Liam dropped his other hand to place it over Zayn’s
heart.
“Your heart’s racing,” Liam said. Zayn looked away unable to bear the brunt of
Liam’s gaze. “Why?”
“You’re making me nervous,” Zayn admitted.
“Anxiety is just atoms in the body.” Liam’s smile was definitely on the smug
side.
“Good to know you were paying attention.”
“It was quite difficult, considering that you were almost naked at the time.”
“Do you remember the next step?”
Liam thought for a moment then said, “You must focus on your body, your
breathing and get back to yourself.” Zayn closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply,
focussing on the feeling of Liam next to him and all the different individual
pressure points where their bodies were in contact. He buried his face into
Liam’s neck, trying to get as physically close as possible. Is this what
Absolute had spoken about? Because this feeling felt beyond anything he could
ever have imagined. Did Liam feel it too? All those meetings after school, the
late night phone calls, the soft kisses and the gifts Liam had bought him. It
all had to mean something. He had to mean something to Liam.
“You’re still thinking,” Liam whispered, pressing their foreheads together.
“Come back.” Zayn focused on the warmth of Liam’s skin and he synced their
breathing, gradually lowering his heart rate.
“I’m back,” Zayn said, opening his eyes to find Liam already staring at him,
his lips curved upwards, eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I know you are.”
***** Chapter 14 *****
Zayn could hear the loud raucous of the party all the way down the street.
There were people outside Liam’s house, standing around a car blaring Lil
Wayne, faces hidden in shadows apart from a few who sucked on cigarettes, the
sharp line of their faces getting lit up by the red ambers. Liam had said the
party would start at eight. It was only seven, but it already appeared to be in
full swing. Zayn made his way past the car, recognising a few guys from school;
rugby players like Liam. The front door was open so he walked right in. The Hi-
Fi was blaring some tune he didn’t recognise and there were far too many people
inside the living room. Girls dancing in groups of twos and threes, couples
snogging on the sofa, groups of guys with beer bottles firmly gripped in their
hands,
But no one he could approach and talk to. He was digging around his trouser
pocket for his phone when he felt a heavy hand drop on his shoulder. He turned
around.
“Since when do you go to Liam’s parties?” Sandy asked. The lad was three sheets
to the wind by the look of him: his hair all dishevelled, eyes bleary, voice
too loud. Zayn side-stepped him and the hand on his shoulder fell away.
“Liam invited me,” Zayn said.
“I haven’t told anyone about walking in on you and him snog—”
“Yeah, that’s good. Where’s he?”’ Zayn said.
“Last I saw him, he was outside by the pool.” Sandy pointed with his beer
bottle out to the patio, then took a sip from it.
“Thanks.” Zayn began to walk towards the patio but Sandy clamped his hand down
on Zayn's shoulder again.
“When’s Niall coming back? Josh misses him. You should see the lad. He’s a
proper mess,” Sandy said, beer breath wafting up to Zayn as he leaned close.
Zayn shrugged. He wished people would stop asking him that. He wasn’t the
reference library for everything Niall Horan related. All he knew was that
Niall was with his mum in Ireland. After he’d missed the entire week of school,
word had gotten around the gossip circuit that his father was in prison.
Murder, some were saying, while others said that Niall’s dad was a hitman for
the Irish mob. Zayn didn’t bother to correct them.
“I don’t know,” he shook off Sandy’s hand once again and headed to the patio.
The French door was open and he stepped out. Out back, there was a thatched
gazebo fitted with a barbecue stand with groups of people congregated around
it. In the pool, more people were having fun dunking each other, shrieking and
laughing. Looking around he couldn’t spot Liam. He went back inside and
upstairs to Liam’s room where he knocked on the door.
“Come in!” a voice called out. Zayn pushed the door open to find Liam, Louis,
and Harry seated on Liam’s bed, looking at the door expectantly.
“Hello,” Zayn said.
“Close the door before someone sees,” Liam said.
“Sees what?” Zayn asked as he closed the door.
“From Tommo to Liam, with love.” Louis said and pulled up the pillow he’d been
using to hide a bag of weed. “Liam’s about to get his high on.”
“I’m not too sure about that,” Liam said.
“Light up and enjoy. It’s your birthday,” Louis glanced at a sleepy looking
Harry. “Even Harry has tried it. What’s the verdict, Haz?”
“Hundred percent.” Harry tried to do a thumbs up but appeared to have
difficulty at it and chose to rest his head on Louis’ left shoulder instead.
“See? Hundred percent,” Louis patted Harry’s head. “I think we need to leave
the star-crossed lovers alone.” He grabbed Harry by the left arm and pulled
him. “Adios. And you’re welcome, by the way.” They left the room, shutting the
door close.
Zayn made his way to the bed, sitting down beside Liam. “Hello,” Zayn said.
“Hey.”
Zayn lifted the bag of weed and inspected it. “Are you gonna light up?”
Liam shook his head. “No, I want to keep a clear head tonight.”
“How’s your day been so far?” Zayn asked.
“Meh,” Liam said.
“Well it’s about to get much better.” Zayn unzipped his hoodie and eased it off
his shoulders letting it fall onto the floor.
“Zayn, what’re you doing?” Liam asked. Zayn pulled off the T-shirt he was
wearing.
“Undressing.” Zayn threw the T-shirt onto the growing pile of clothes on the
floor. The vest he wore underneath came off next, leaving him bare-chested.
Liam stared up at him.
“That pinkie swear we made wasn’t a joke to me.” Liam started to rise from the
bed.
“Don’t get up.” Zayn placed his hands on Liam’s hips, stilling him. He
straddled Liam, settling his weight fully on Liam’s thighs. “You promised. I
didn’t say anything. And I think we’re already miles away from ‘sexually
inappropriate’.” Zayn reached for his own belt buckle and undid it. He pulled
it free from its loops and threw it to the floor where it landed with a
resounding clunk. “Besides, what’s that saying? ‘Once you’ve gone too far it is
hard not to go all the way.’ Because it is hard.” He lifted one of Liam’s hands
and brought it over to his own groin. “I’m hard, can you feel it?” He pressed
Liam’s hand harder against his cock and his eyes fluttered shut. Zayn pulled
their hands off his groin, bunched his pants and trousers down to his knees
with his other hand, and when he returned their joint hands Liam was touching
his bare cock for the first time. And fuck, it felt good. Zayn panted out, “I
don’t want there to be clothes between us anymore.”
The minute he finished speaking, Liam used his full strength to flip them
around so Zayn was on his back, his hard cock jutting out between them. Liam
looked at him before he returned his hand to Zayn’s cock, pressing his palm
down against it. Zayn threw his head back and moaned, hips thrusting up
involuntarily. Liam took his hand away and Zayn opened his eyes to watch Liam
rolling off him and the bed.
“You once accused me of wanting you because you’re a virgin. You were right.”
Liam stood next to the bed, arms crossed. “Because the truth is-I like it. I
like the fact you’ve never had anyone’s hands on you. That I could be the first
person to—I’ve imagined it.” Liam’s face was flushed and his chest heaved.
“And I once said you couldn’t have me. It wasn’t true.” Zayn got up from the
bed to stand before Liam, his trousers falling to his ankles. “Because I want
you to be my first.’’
“Zayn, what about your abstinence pledge?’ Liam asked. Zayn tugged the silver
ring off his left hand and it made a soft clink when he placed it on Liam’s
nightstand.
“I promised I’d wait until I was in love,’’ Zayn said quietly. He picked up
Liam’s hands and placed them on his own hips before entwining his arms around
Liam’s neck. “Absolutely and completely in love. Which is what I am.’’
“Zayn-” Liam shook his head like Zayn’s words pained him.
“I love you, Liam.’’ Zayn pressed his lips to Liam’s. “I know you love me
too.’’ He kissed Liam while pressing their bodies together. Liam’s gripped his
hips tight and Zayn felt himself being lowered backwards onto the bed. He made
room for Liam between his legs as he moved his hands from around Liam’s neck to
Liam’s arse. He nipped at Liam’s lower lip and moaned when Liam retorted by
thrusting hard against him. He was still lost in the kiss when Liam began
pulling away and he released a frustrated sound when he lost lip contact,
opening his eyes to look up at Liam.
“We need to stop,’’ Liam panted out. Zayn shook his head, trying to pull Liam
back down. Liam allowed himself to be pulled. He kissed Zayn, moving against
him. Liam groaned and pressed harder against Zayn, his tongue sliding into
Zayn’s mouth, nipping at Zayn’s lips with his teeth, murmuring something.
Zayn’s skin felt like it was on fire and he knew that this was what he had been
waiting for. This dizzying madness, the liquid lava in his veins. It had been
Liam all along. Liam with his kind, warm eyes. Liam who kissed him softly and
so sweetly. And now, they would finally have it all.
“I want this but I don’t deserve it,’’ Liam whispered against Zayn’s lips. Zayn
shook his head. Liam pulled away again, resisting when Zayn tried to hold him
down. Zayn opened his eyes to find Liam looking at him with slumped, defeated
shoulders and his eyebrows knitted.
“What’s wrong?’’ Zayn asked.
“Sophia’s pregnant.’’ Liam whispered, his eyes clouding over. Zayn dropped his
arms, feeling cold all over as Liam rolled off his body to lay beside him.
“Is it yours?’’ Zayn asked as he pulled up his pants and did up his trousers.
“There’s a good chance that it might be.’’ Liam said. Zayn got off the bed and
picked up the rest of his clothes, pulling them on as quickly as he could. “I’m
sorry.’’ Zayn ignored him, zipping up his hoodie, and looked around on the
floor for his belt. “It was before we happened. Zayn, look at me.’’
Zayn buckled his trousers, headed to the door and quietly let himself out.
                                  *** *** ***
 
At home he dialled Niall’s number and listened to a computerised voice telling
him that the number he was trying to call didn’t exist. He dialled again, got
the same voice before he threw the phone across the room and buried his face
into his pillow.
 
***** Chapter 15 *****
                           *** Seven Years Later ***
The mural was turning out to be one hell of a motherfucker. He had been working
on it since he rolled out of bed at eleven in the morning. It was now six and
his arms burned from being held up for so long. The damn thing was due in two
days and he wasn’t even half-way done with it. Okay, maybe if he’d immediately
started working on it when he got the assignment a month back he wouldn’t be
pulling long ass shifts trying to complete it, but he was an artist, and
artists needed to be inspired to work. With inspiration so difficult to come by
he’d found himself completing fewer and fewer pieces recently, which was okay.
He freelanced here and there and got enough money to pay for his studio flat
and didn’t end up on the streets.
Not that Niall would ever let that happen. He called Zayn every couple of days
to check that he was still alive. He also intermittently appeared on his
doorstep armed with a bag full of groceries and a determined look on his face.
He’d then strong arm his way into the studio and insist on cooking and feeding
him. It was annoying because genetically Zayn was small-boned and no amount of
cottage pie would put weight on him, but Niall couldn’t be convinced.
Zayn was about to take his videogame break when there was a knock on his front
door. He put down his paintbrush and wiped his hands before he went to answer.
“You’re not eating,’’ Niall announced while he pushed his way in. Zayn stepped
aside because there was no stopping the lad once he got all worked up.
“Let me guess; your magic eight ball told you that?’’ he asked.
“No, my eyes.’’ Niall set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter
before he opened Zayn’s fridge and grimaced. “I think something died in
there.’’
Zayn went to the living room to start up the videogame. He heard Niall close
the fridge along with the sound of drawers being opened and closed and then the
tell-tale click of the gas stove.
“I’m not hungry!’’ he yelled out to Niall who ignored him. He couldn’t
concentrate on the game so he switched it off and turned on the telly. Some
random National Geographic show was on and he watched. Pots were clinking
against the stove and then there was the sound of the tap running and then
chop, chop, chop. A hiss of a pan and soon the most delicious smell of frying
food was wafting to him and his stomach began to grumble. The sofa sank down
and he turned to look at Niall.
“You miss him,’’ Niall said unceremoniously.
“Saying goodbye to that loser was the best thing I ever did,’’ Zayn said. He
muted the telly and turned to face Niall. “You said it yourself, Matt is going
nowhere slowly.’’
“I’m not talking about Matt,’’ Niall said, eyes serious the way they got
whenever he brought this subject up. Whenever he brought him up.
“Liam,’’ Zayn said. “You think I’m still in love with him.’’
“I know you’re still in love with him,’’ Niall said. “It’s pretty apparent to
everyone except you.’’
“‘Everyone’ being you and your boyfriend?’’
“Yes, he and I agree on this. We know you, Zayn. You can’t lie to us.’’
Zayn said slowly and deliberately, “I’m not still hung up on Liam. It’s been
years.’’
“Then why do you go mental when someone mentions him?”
“I get angry because he destroyed me and it took ages for me to rebuild who I
was,’’ Zayn said, his voice far more sharp than he intended. He sighed and sat
back on the sofa, staring straight ahead at the telly. “But I did, eventually.
And I moved on.”
“To Stuart, then Christopher and Ethan. Then there was that French art dealer.
Let’s not forget Lloyd, Jordy, and the other Christopher who was your English
Lit professor and married, by the way. Then Tariq, Shaun, and finally that
washed-out writer, Matthias,’’ Niall said. “That’s a whole lot of ‘moving on’
for a guy who was once the chair of the abstinence club.’’
“Not all of us can meet the love of our lives in high school like you and
Harry,’’ Zayn said.
“Maybe you did.’’
“Maybe I’m making up for lost time. Maybe abstinence club me wasn’t the real
me. Because when it comes down to it, true love doesn’t exist. Not out of fairy
tales, anyway.’’
Niall looked at him pitifully. “You don’t honestly believe that?’’
“Yes, I do.’’
“He really hurt you, huh?’’ Niall reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I wish
I had been around to help you through it.’’
“It doesn’t matter. It’s water under the bridge now anyway,’’ Zayn said. His
stomach gave a violent growl. “How much longer until the food’s ready?’’
“I thought you said you weren’t hungry.’’
“I lied.”
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn’s head had barely hit the pillow when he heard knocking on his door. It
was one in the fucking morning for fuck’s sake and he was seriously tired from
painting that fucking mural. It better not be that loser Matt, thinking that
Zayn would throw him one again. Last week had been a one-time thing. They were
not happening.
Zayn slowly got up and made his way to the front door and opened it, silently
cursing whoever it was on the other side.
“Hey, Zayn,’’ Harry said, smiling brightly. Zayn gave him a bleary-eyed glare
in return.
“If you’re looking for your boyfriend he left ages ago,” Zayn said, leaving the
door open behind himself as he went to the sofa.
“I know. I’m here to see you.” Harry pushed the door shut and came in,
foregoing all the vacant seats to sit next to Zayn. “How’re you?”
“No.”
“‘No’ what?” Harry asked.
“I’m not going to his party,’’ Zayn said, his voice hard. “Niall and Louis
ganged up on me earlier tonight during dinner, so I’m telling you the same
thing I told them. No.”
“He wants to see you,” Harry said softly.
“I don’t care.”
“He’s been apologising for years.”
“I don’t care.”
“Seriously, what does he have to do for you to forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” Zayn said, because it was the truth. He’d been willing to give
Liam everything that night, seven years ago. He’d been sure that what he felt
for Liam was real and most importantly that Liam felt the same way. He’d
thought that they could have it all. But that wasn’t the case. Sophia was
pregnant and Liam was saying it was his. How could he have been so stupid? Two
weeks of kissing and touching and he was willing to throw away all of his
beliefs because Liam Payne had looked at him twice.
And the worst part was that he wished Liam hadn’t stopped them, he wished they
had gone all the way before he found out the news, because having Liam would’ve
been better than not having him at all. Zayn had known all along the type of
person Liam was and Liam hadn’t made any pretences about it. He was the idiot
that decided to fall in love with Liam regardless.
Seven fucking years later and it still hurt.
He and Liam were never going to have it all—not the soul-scorching love he’d
been promised by Absolute. Not Liam running his hands all over his body,
kissing him and making him go wild. Not Zayn’s first time together, slow and
sexy, gentle and loving. Never that.
“Just do one thing for me,” Harry said. Zayn sighed. He was tired and it was
late and that stupid, stupid mural was ages away from being done. He didn’t
need Liam’s broken telephone messages right now. But Harry was Harry and Zayn
couldn’t be mad at him because Harry thought he was doing a close friend a
favour.
“What?” Zayn said.
“Stop punishing yourself for falling in love with him,” Harry said. “I’ve been
watching you over the last couple of years, Zayn. Sleeping with guys who don’t
give two shits about you isn’t going to change what happened. You’re swallowing
poison and hoping Liam will die.”
“I like sex. Believe me, Liam is the furthest thing in my mind when I’m fucking
those guys.” Zayn’s voice was taking on an edge, but he couldn’t hold back.
Harry’s sage advice and Niall’s piteous looks were getting old. He was a
fucking adult and what he did with his life really wasn’t any of their
business. “You and Niall can stop keeping tabs on me and making everything
about Liam because it isn’t.”
Harry shoulders sagged and he looked defeated. “Hey, at least I tried.” he
spread out his arms and Zayn lowered his face into the crook of Harry’s
shoulder. “Just take care, yeah?” he said before he kissed Zayn’s temple.
“Yeah,” Zayn replied.  Harry was mumbling something about having to go home and
needing to sleep because he had work in the morning and he was leaving. Zayn
was too exhausted to get up from the sofa and he rolled to lay on his side,
falling asleep with the memory of Liam cupping his face, calling him beautiful.
                                  *** *** ***
“Hey Zayn, my man,” Louis said as he let himself in. Zayn was in his living
room working on the mural and it wasn’t going well. The company that had
commissioned the piece wanted something to hang up at its new corporate
offices. The words ‘refined, simple and elegant’ may have been used. Zayn had
been paid half his commission weeks back and he had already more than spent it.
Angry red and purple welts weren’t exactly ‘refined, simple and elegant’ and
the more he tried to salvage it the worse it became and he grew more pissed
off. Fuck.
He wiped specks of paint off his arms and went to the kitchen to collect
drinks. He took out two bottles of Heineken and walked back into the living
room to find Louis standing in front of the mural. Zayn handed Louis the beer
and they studied his handiwork.
“It’s not done yet,” Zayn said.
“I’d hope not because it looks like shit.” Louis grimaced and walked to a sofa
to sit down. Zayn followed after him. “But don’t listen to me, everyone’s a
critic and all of that nonsense.”
“What brings you around these parts?” Zayn asked.
“Can’t a friend visit a friend these days without being accused of having
ulterior motives?” Louis said.
“Not twice in two days. You had dinner with me and Niall just last night which
was a feat in itself because you hate this part of town. You’re always worried
someone will strip your 6-Series.”
“That’s a valid fear as it’s been known to happen.” Louis looked around Zayn’s
studio flat. “Admit it, you got this place cheap for a reason.”
“The owner was immigrating to Australia. They were desperate.”
“That they were.” Louis took a sip of his beer and then said too casually,
“What are you doing this Friday?”
Zayn narrowed his eyes. “Again?”
“Again what?”
“You’re trying to convince me into going to Liam’s stupid party. Again.”
“You do know that some people would literally sell a kidney to get invited to a
Liam Payne party?” Louis said.
“Just when I thought you’d outgrown your tosser ways you go and say shit like
that.”
“I’m not being snobbish. It’s the truth,” Louis said. “And we’re all tired of
your hate boner for Liam. It’s time you buried the hatchet. Whether you fuck
him or he fucks you, it doesn’t matter as long as you two fuck somehow.”
“How did I get so lucky to have the Three Kings travel so far to bear such
words of wisdom for me?” Zayn said as he finished his beer in one sip. “I’m not
going. In fact, take my invite and raffle it on Twitter. I don’t care.” He got
up and grabbed his paintbrush, angrily jabbing it into the paint.
“Good luck with that thing because it looks like you’ll need it,” Louis said as
he got to his feet. “I’d stay and love you but I have to go because this isn’t
my station.”
When the door closed behind Louis, Zayn gave up pretence of trying to paint and
sank down onto the floor, staring up at the mural. The colours were too dark;
threading and weaving in wretched shades of red, purple and black. There was no
finesse to the lines, just dips and random shapes. There was no fixing it.
                                  *** *** ***
He had finished showering, finally washing off the paint he’d gotten all over
himself when he heard someone knocking on his front door. Maybe the whole lot
had decided to go Dr Drew on him and do an intervention. Zayn quickly pulled on
a pair of his sweats and a loose T-shirt before going to the living room. He
pulled the door open and froze.
His hair was longer than Zayn remembered it, styled into a coif, his skin more
tan. He was dressed expensively. Dark Ralph Lauren blazer, a white button-down
shirt, and a pair of stone washed designer jeans. He had a pair of Bvlgari
sunglasses perched on his head and his eyes were dark and serious, his thick
eyebrows burrowed in a frown.
“Hello, Zayn,” Liam said.
***** Chapter 16 *****
Zayn left the door open, retreating into the living room to stand by the
window, crossing his arms as he stared down at the busy street. The sun had set
hours ago and it was mostly dark outside apart from red and yellow car
taillights glowing like hundreds of fiery moths on the motorway. He heard the
click of his front door and the rhythmic patter of Liam’s footsteps as he
walked in, the footfall dying out when Liam came to stand behind Zayn, his tall
frame reflected on the glass window. Liam had his hands shoved deep in his
jacket pockets and his shoulders were hunched over, feet shuffling, looking so
much like the boy Zayn remembered. 
“It wasn’t mine,” Liam said from behind him.
“I know,” Zayn said.
“Then why won’t you-”
“Because it could’ve been.” Zayn watched as Liam’s reflection stepped closer to
him and he turned around, holding out his hand in a stop motion. “You said so
yourself.”
Over the years, Zayn wondered if he had distorted the memory of those few
weeks. Surely Liam’s kisses hadn’t been intoxicating to the point that nothing
else compared. The guys that followed had always fallen short, their kisses
never making him feel like he could combust. Everything they gave him was
astutely lacking to what he’d shared with Liam and the more he tried to capture
that feeling he had lost, the more far away from it he became, which made him
conclude that none of it had been real. Time had distorted the memory,
saturating the colours, making them much brighter than they really were. The
Liam he missed, the Liam he ached for, had been an illusion.  
“Liam, why are you here?” Zayn asked.
“Louis gave me your address a while back. I found myself driving around and I
ended up here.” Liam gestured around Zayn’s flat.
Zayn could barely hear what Liam was saying because he couldn’t focus. His eyes
drank Liam in, noting how he was broader and more solid. Liam’s eyes were that
beautiful shade of brown he remembered, maybe even more so with his cheeks
framed by a five o’clock shadow and his tan offsetting the brilliant white of
his teeth. That kid he’d known back in high school was cute, but this grown-up
version of Liam was devastatingly handsome. Sure, Zayn had seen him over the
years, from a distance, at a shared friend’s party, or in a grocery store
during Christmas break when he’d gone home to visit his parents or later, when
Liam’s career took off, in tabloid magazines, but never up close like they were
now.  Liam was the same but also different. Same voice, same speaking
mannerisms, different smell. The scent coming off him was like dark spicy wood.
Very adult. Very posh.
“So, you found something that didn’t bore you, huh?” Zayn said.
“And you don’t wear a tie when you go to work.” Liam gestured at Zayn’s baggy
joggers and T-shirt.
“One of the perks of working from home.”
“I’m having a party.”
“I heard.”
“The lads tell me that you’re not attending.’’
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“You know why. It’s glaringly obvious why. I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Zayn brushed his way past Liam to sit on the sofa.
“I’ve said I’m sorry over and over again.” Liam followed after him. He sat on
the sofa opposite Zayn, eyes blazing. “It’s not like I cheated or lied to you.”
Zayn crossed his arms, feeling the pressure in his forehead turn into a throb,
and stubbornly looked away. No, Liam never lied. He just shattered his heart,
s’all. No biggie. “It took everything I had to stop. You were half-naked in my
bed saying you wanted me to take your virginity. I could’ve, you know, fucked
you and let you find out about Sophia afterwards. But I didn’t.”
“Wow, that was so noble of you, Liam. How could I ever thank you?” Zayn said
sarcastically. “Please leave. I’ve got work to do.”
Liam regarded him for a moment, then said, “I spend far too much time thinking
about those days.”
“Reminiscing about your golden years?”
“No. Replaying those weeks I spent with you.” Liam smiled sadly. “How when the
light hit your eyes a certain way they’d look like spun honey. The way your
voice got animated when you’d talk about the books you loved. That time you
tried to explain The Mayor of Casterbridge to me. Mostly I wonder how the boy
who was so kind, gentle, and warm to me could become so cold.”
Zayn got to his feet. “You made it that way. You never wanted to join Absolute
and you figured while you were in it, you’d mess with its Chair.”
“That isn’t true. Zayn, you know it’s not true.” Liam stood up, his voice
rising. “All I ever wanted was to be someone you could care about.”
“I don’t believe you.” Zayn stalked to his door and swung it open. “Get the
fuck out.”
“It was always you, Zayn.” Liam approached him, standing in front of the open
door. He reached out and placed his palm on Zayn’s cheek. Zayn closed his eyes
because—god damn it -no one had ever touched him the way Liam did. No one had
ever looked at him the way Liam did. Like he was something precious and awe
inspiring. “You’re even more beautiful,” he heard Liam whisper and he couldn’t
stand it.
“Just leave,” Zayn choked out. Liam removed his hand and Zayn slammed the door
shut after him, kicking it a few times for good measure.
                                  *** *** ***
He didn’t go back to the mural; even Picasso couldn’t save it at this point. He
switched off all the lights in his flat, dragged his blanket from the sofa, and
climbed into bed, pulling it over his head. Only when he was firmly tucked in
did he let the tears that had been threatening ever since Liam touched him
fall.
                                  *** *** ***
It was pitch black when something woke him. Ringing. His cellphone. Zayn
scrambled around in the dark until he found it under his spare pillow. “Matt
Calling” the glowing screen told him.
“What?” Zayn said.
“Babe, I’m outside,” Matt said.
“It’s late and I’m tired.” Zayn rolled onto his back as he spoke. Last week was
a one-time thing and he and Matt weren’t going back to whatever they had been
doing. It wasn’t dating. No, a commitment had to be given from either parties.
They weren’t friends with benefits. To be that, he’d actually have to consider
Matt a mate and he couldn’t stand the guy. The sooner Matt got it into his head
that they weren’t happening, the better. He didn’t need him grovelling around
when everything was hectic at the moment. The stupid mural, his meddling mates,
Liam and the party-
“Hey Matt, what are you doing this Friday?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“Do you want to go to a party with me?”
“Yes,” Matt said. Then, “You gonna let me in?”
“No, go home.” Zayn hung up.
 
***** Chapter 17 *****
Antonia Duncan, the Titan Industries’ CFO, did not look impressed. She stood,
arms on her hips, black stilettos tapping on Zayn’s paint-splattered floors. He
could’ve worked harder on presentation, but at this stage he was sure that
nothing could salvage his pitch for the mural.
“This is not what we agreed on, Mr Malik.” she spun on her heel to face him,
her lips a thin unhappy line.
“I took some liberties with the project,” Zayn said. She raised one perfectly
arched brow.
“We wanted clean. Elegant. Refined. Yet you gave us the opposite.” she shook
her brown bob in disdain. “I would dare say that you more than took liberties.
This piece is not Titan.” She gave the mural one last look before she retrieved
her handbag from Zayn’s coffee table. “We expect a full refund to clear our
account before the twenty-fifth,” she said, exiting his flat.
Zayn sank down onto the sofa, staring at his painting.  His first paying job in
months and he’d ruined it. He ruined everything these days.
                                  *** *** ***
Opulent was the word that came to mind when he saw Liam’s estate. It was on the
outskirts of town, out in the country side, one hundred and eighty acres of
land, an eight thousand square foot main house, miles of landscaped gardens,
and a squash court were some of its features.  A multitude of exotic sports
cars were parked up front when they drove in. Matt leaned out his window to
whistle as he checked them out. They hopped out and handed the keys to an
overeager valet that had magically appeared.
“Your friend- is he rich or something?” Matt asked, looking up at the three-
story mansion. It was white with tall black shutters outfitting the windows and
a posh looking balcony protruded from one of the upstairs rooms, providing what
was surely a spectacular view of the expensively manicured lawns.
“Or something,” Zayn said.
According to Forbes Magazine, Liam had a net worth that was probably greater
than their entire small town population combined. After he’d been expelled from
Monmouth, he’d completed Year 11 at home via an online school while taking a
bridging course from Hartlepool Sixth Form College. Upon completing Year 11, he
got a rugby bursary from the institute. Liam went on to have a stellar two
years playing for the school and once his A-levels were completed, he received
a scholarship to play for the University of Exeter where he had a successful
three years before blowing out a knee during a game and having to retire from
playing professionally.
Liam took a gig on the campus radio, DJing part-time in the weekend slot. A BBC
1 executive heard his mix compilation and asked him to submit some of his work
to its new artists playlist where it became popular, receiving extended air
play. Liam graduated and got the morning weekday gig at BBC radio were he DJed
and produced in his spare time. Last year he and Niall opened their own record
label, signing up a few artists. Niall’s band became their calling card and the
first single they released went on to become insanely popular and their follow
up album blew up iTunes. Now Liam was ridiculously rich and apparently eager
for the entire planet to know it so he was throwing a homecoming party.
In the foyer waiters held out welcoming cocktails. Zayn accepted one and sipped
it as they were led into a large hall room full of expensively dressed guests
standing in clusters, laughing and talking. The place was teeming with the
blonde, tanned, and botoxed and some of the faces were vaguely familiar, but
not friendly. Zayn finished his drink and swiped another from a passing
waitress.
“Someone’s thirsty,” he heard a voice say from behind him. He and Matt turned
around.
“Danielle?” he said and she gave him a huge smile before pulling him into a
hug.
“Zayn, the years have been extremely kind to you,” she let go of him.
“Likewise, you look great,” Zayn said. And she did. Her skin was radiant and
the short cocktail dress she wore showed off her killer legs.
“Who’s this handsome fellow?” she asked, glancing at Matt.
“Danielle, this is Matt,” Zayn said, turning to Matt, “and Matt, this is
Danielle. We attended the same high school.” He watched Matt and Danielle shake
hands.
“So, I’m finally attending a Liam Payne party,” Danielle said, looking around
the humming room. “It’s quite posh, if I do say so.” Across the room, a redhead
gave a loud shriek, waving frantically at Danielle. “Oh my god, that’s Stacey!”
she set down her glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “We should catch up some
time,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to Zayn’s cheek. Zayn agreed and then
she was off, disappearing into the crowd.
“Your friend’s smoking hot. You ever tap that?” Matt asked, still leering in
the direction where Danielle had headed.
“I need the restroom,” Zayn said and left the room. He took a corner down the
wide corridor and he opened the first door he came to and found a book-adorned
library. He closed it and continued down, walking past the dining hall where
the catering staff were running around, setting up tables. He turned left,
found the bathroom, went inside, urinated, washed up, and walked out back into
the corridor.
He looked left and spotted Liam at the foot of the winding stairs, talking to
one of the guests. Zayn spun on his heel and walked in the opposite direction,
away from the swirling jazz music and the teleprompter laughter, slid the
French doors open and stepped out in the quiet garden.
It was completely dark out, the sky a black starless mass, warm late summer air
caressing his face. Liam’s garden was beautiful; very Old England, outfitted
with trimmed rose bushes and row upon rows of primrose plants.  Like most
manors in Monmouth, it had a large hedge maze.
Zayn walked through the garden heading to maze’s entrance. The maze’s walls
were tall, about seven feet of thick green leaves and brown branches, the
entrance of it was lit by a lamp pole, glowing a jaundiced yellow. Zayn stepped
inside it, looking left then right, thinking. The gravelled paths were
identical and there was no way for him to know which would lead to the
multitude of dead-ends it possessed.
“I wouldn’t advise that.” Zayn turned around and there was Liam, dressed in a
tailored suit, walking towards him, gesturing at the maze. “You could get lost
in there.”
“Maybe that’s my intention.” Zayn stepped inside the maze, the gravel crunching
loudly beneath his feet, and the echo of Liam’s footsteps followed behind him.
 
“Who’s that guy you brought?” Liam asked.
“My fuck buddy,” Zayn said over his shoulder.
He came to a fork and randomly went right, because, when it doubt, that’s what
you did. He walked quickly, Liam following close on his tail, the party sounds
growing fainter and fainter, and the leafed walls of the maze seemed to get
taller, but he wasn’t going to stop. He picked up his pace, turned at a corner-
fuck, a dead end.
Zayn turned around and pushed his way past Liam, returning to the direction
they had come in. This time he went left, pounding his feet harder onto the
gravel, the resulting loud crunch oddly satisfying.  They came to a split once
again and Zayn took a right, then a left, and fucking Liam kept following after
him. He came to another dead end and Zayn planted his hands on the leafed wall,
leaning against it as he breathed for a moment.
“I don’t hate you, Liam,” Zayn said, all the anger deflating. Liam was close
behind him and when he felt a hand being placed on his middle, he didn’t move.
Liam wrapped his hands around him, laying his head on Zayn’s shoulder.
“You’re lost.”
“I don’t want to be.” Zayn turned around, allowing Liam to pull him into a hug.
Zayn’s hands couldn’t stay still and he found them wandering up the planes of
Liam’s back, exploring, by touch, where the boy he remembered and the man he
held differed.
“Let me help you, like you helped me,” Liam whispered and he was kissing him
soft and sweet. Gentle, warm hands came up to cup his face. Zayn kissed him
back like he was drowning and, yes, it was everything he remembered. Scorching.
Searing. Too much. He ran his hands roughly through Liam’s hair, yanking at it,
shoving his tongue into Liam’s mouth while pressing his hips hard against
Liam’s, only stopping when Liam pulled away.
“I don’t want our first time together to be rushed,” Liam whispered. He leaned
in close, something around his neck catching the moonlight, glinting a pale
silver. Liam mouthed in Zayn’s ear. “Let’s go inside. I want to strip you,
spread you out on my California King, and put my mouth on yours,” he kissed
Zayn. “My tongue,” he licked Zayn’s lips, “and my cock inside you. I want to be
with you, not just tonight, but always.”
He thrust against Zayn’s body. Zayn shook his head. No. “I want to fuck. Right
here, right now.” Zayn reached down between their bodies to squeeze Liam’s cock
through his trousers, feeling the thick, rigid heat of it. “Take it or leave
it.”
Liam groaned with anguish, pushing Zayn against the leafed wall, kissing him
hard on the lips before he retreated and stoically walked away without a
backwards glance.
Zayn watched Liam’s back retreat, leaving him alone in the maze. 
                                 *** ***  ***
He left the party without bothering to look for Matt and drove straight to the
all night store. He raced his car into the parking lot, jumping out, and he
ignored a patron protesting that he was parked over the line. In the brightly
lit hardware store, Zayn was aware of a few people doing double takes of him.
He was, after all, decked out in full evening attire, complete with a black
bow-tie. He wandered into the wrong aisles before he found the one he was
looking for. He selected the colours he wanted and went to pay for them. He got
into his car and drove home. When he got there, he didn’t bother to take off
the suit, he pulled down his old mural, set up a blank canvas, and started to
paint.
Zayn had ignored Liam for weeks after Liam’s sixteenth birthday party and when
the school faculty found out about the pregnancy, they expelled Liam and
Sophia. Zayn had felt spiteful glee. For once, Monmouth’s archaic Code of
Conduct worked in his favour. Year 11 was soon over and he left town to intern
for the summer for an art magazine in London. Sixth Form soon started and two
terms into the school year he heard the news that the baby wasn’t Liam’s. That
dear old Mr Winston was the father, a scandal which had rocked Monmouth
Secondary High School right to the core, catapulting it into nationwide news
coverage. The handsome young teacher, who happened to administrate the school’s
abstinence club, and the beautiful Head Girl. All so sordid. All so scandalous.
Mr Winston had been found guilty of sex with a minor and was sent to
Pentonville Prison to serve out a five year sentence. 
After the story died down, Liam tried contacting him but Zayn told himself that
it didn’t matter, that Liam couldn’t be trusted. He’d also lost all faith he’d
had in Absolute because if Mr Winston could do what he did, sleep with an
underage student, impregnate her, and allow another student to take the fall,
then what values could he have possibly imparted to the club? What did it all
matter? Why should Zayn live by its principals?
Zayn had sex. Then he had it again, because sex was easy. He didn’t have to put
his heart on the line. He could just take what he wanted from another person
and leave unscathed. Now Liam was back in his life, infiltrating it like he’d
done before, saying he wanted more than a casual fuck and Zayn didn’t have
anything left to give.
He hadn’t for seven years.
                                  *** *** ***
He was still working on the mural when the sun began to make its appearance,
streaming through his window, first a weak orange before turning red, maroon,
then bright yellow. His arms were dead lead but it didn’t matter because for
once he felt that sliver of inspiration and he knew enough not to waste it. He
mixed more colours: mint green, oceanic blues, and scintillating silvers. With
the first piece finished, he pulled out a small canvas and started another,
then another. His arms had become too heavy to hold up when he finally put his
paint brush down and he went to the kitchen to prepare some food. He was
pouring milk into cereal when he heard a knock on the door and opened it to
find Niall still dressed in his suit, standing on the stoop, smiling up at
Zayn.
“Early morning or late night?” Niall asked, gesturing to Zayn’s attire as he
came in.
“I could ask you the same.” Zayn sat down on his sofa and ate his cereal.
“A very late night,” Niall said as he sat down. “I heard you attended the
party.”
“Yeah.”
“And Liam’s still walking so you didn’t give into your lustful/homicidal
urges.” Niall reached for Zayn’s cereal and Zayn swatted his hand. “That’s a
gold star for you.”
“Why are you at my flat and not banging your hot boyfriend?” Zayn asked. Niall
turned to face Zayn as he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small
jewellery box. Zayn looked at it, before looking back at Niall. Then it dawned
on him.
“You’re proposing?” Zayn asked.
“We’ve been together for five years. I think it’s time.” Niall handed the box
to Zayn who opened it and looked at the ring inside.
“The ring’s beautiful. He’ll definitely like it.” Zayn handed it back. “Are you
going to do it proper like, on bent knee and shit?”
“I dunno.”
“You nervous?”
“Big time.”
“Don’t be. That lad is stupidly in love with you. Has been for years.”
“What if he says no?” Niall asked. Zayn placed his bowl of cereal onto the
coffee table before he opened his arms.
“Come here,” Zayn said. Niall leaned in and Zayn wrapped his arms around him.
“He will say yes. He’d be mental if he didn’t, where else will he get someone
as kind, sweet, talented, and rich, if I may add?” He patted Niall’s arm,
stopping when Niall pulled away, frowning.
“You smell like Liam,” Niall said, peering at him, speculation playing out on
his face. “Did you two-”
“No! Nothing happened.”
Niall looked unconvinced. “That’s what you told me last time and meanwhile you
were dry-humping him on any available flat surface.”
“We were horny teenage boys and that was ages ago. There wasn’t any dry humping
last night.” Zayn paused. “Okay, maybe just the teeniest bit.”
“Please be careful.”
“I always am.”
“I mean, Liam has feelings too. You weren’t the only person who was devastated
by what happened,” Niall said softly. “He lost you, got kicked off the sports
teams, and expelled. He then spent six months caring for a child that wasn’t
his. Just remember that.”
“Okay,” Zayn said.
Niall nodded. “So, do you want to be my best man?”
“I’d be honoured.” he patted Niall’s right shoulder. Niall stared at him, his
blue eyes twinkling. “What-” Before Zayn could finish his sentence Niall’s eyes
fluttered shut and he leaned in, kissing Zayn full on the lips. Zayn jerked
back, staring at him in shock, as his hand flew to cover his mouth.
“What the hell?” Zayn asked.
“Your expression-” Niall was laughing, bent over and slapping his own left
knee, “-priceless.” Niall wheezed out. He collected himself and said, “Just
wanted to make sure that when the minister says ‘if there’s anyone opposing
this union’ you don’t jump up and declare your undying love for me.”
“As if.” Zayn wiped his mouth and made a gagging sound. “Eww.”
“Jokes aside,” Niall got up, pocketing the small jewellery box, “don’t breathe
a word of this to the rest of the lads. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Consider my lips sealed.” 
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn went to bed, taking a short nap before he woke up to pull his curtains
asunder, letting the afternoon sunlight in. He tilted his face skyward, his
eyes drifting shut, breathing in clean fresh air before migrating to the living
room where he mixed more colours and set up a blank canvas. He was unsure what
it was that he was about to paint, but he was unable to stop painting. A few
hours passed and he was setting the piece out to dry when he heard a knock on
his front door. Zayn wiped down his hands and answered.
“Hey, Zayn,” Harry said, holding up a champagne bottle.
“Oh, we’re celebrating, are we?” Zayn said as he took the bottle from Harry. “I
thought Niall would take his own sweet time and fret about it more.”
“Fret about what more?” Harry asked as he walked in.
“Uh, nothing.” Zayn went to his kitchen to collect champagne glasses. He called
out, “What’s the occasion?”
“Life’s good. Friends are better. The usual,” Harry said. Zayn returned,
popping the bottle open and filling the two glasses to the brim. He handed one
to Harry.
“I know what I want to toast,” Zayn said. “You: Harry Styles. A good mate and I
must say you did all right in life.”
“So did you,” they clinked their glasses. Zayn sat down, sipping the champagne,
and Harry joined him on the sofa.
“It’s not true. I cocked things up,” Zayn said.
“We all cock up.”
“Not like me.” he drained his glass and poured himself another, sitting back on
the sofa, allowing the alcohol to loosen his tongue. “I don’t know how to be
around him anymore. It was easier when I was angry. Now all I see when I look
at him is all the time I’ve wasted. What I should’ve said. What I could’ve
done. What we could’ve been. And now it’s too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Harry said. Zayn shook his head because that wasn’t
true. Liam called him cold. He probably pitied poor Zayn who’d taken the detour
off the high road.
“Once Liam has had someone he never wants them again,” Zayn said quietly,
looking off at the new mural. “He told me that once. Over the years I’ve read
up on him and he’s never had a steady partner. He’s seen with people but he’s
never had a long-term relationship.”
“Lazy journos made up most of those stories to sell papers,” Harry said.
“I keep wondering, if I do it, sleep with Liam, would whatever he feels for me
end?” Zayn could still remember Liam’s words, I like the fact that you’re a
virgin.  But that ship had sailed years ago. But Liam was still here, still
calling him beautiful, like it was fucking gospel.   
“I can’t tell you what to do. But can I suggest something? Maybe the reasons
he’s never had a long-term relationship is because none of those people weren’t
you.” Harry smiled wryly. “Boy most likely to break his heart, remember?”
“He told you that?” Zayn asked.
“It was true.”
“He broke mine as well.”
“I know,” Harry said softly. “I know.”
***** Chapter 18 *****
Zayn woke up early on Sunday to take a few composite shots of the mural and the
other pieces.  It was remarkable that he had completed all that work in one
day. Mrs Duncan hadn’t liked the first mural, not that he could blame her
because it had been atrocious, so maybe these new pieces could be to her
liking. He just needed her too look at his composite pictures.
Niall sent him a text during the night, saying he’d done the deed, popped the
question, along with asking if his best man could kindly do the honour of
planning his engagement party. Another text had come in listing an exorbitant
list of demands. Limo for guests, Cristal, entertainment that included a live
band (Olly Murs preferably), three course meal, a goody bag, beauty treatments
- the list went on. Niall had concluded that the co-best man could maybe help
with planning the party. The co-best man was Liam, of course. This was
ridiculously transparent but Zayn couldn’t complain because he was bad at party
planning and apparently Liam knew how to throw a party. Plus, Zayn wasn’t made
of money and Liam was.
Zayn showered, shaved, styled his hair, and spent far too much time picking out
his clothes before he settled on ripped jeans and a black T-shirt. He drove to
Liam’s, his heart fluttering the entire time. He stopped alongside the motorway
twice, almost talking himself into not continuing before he started the car and
surged forward because Niall was relying on him. He drove up Liam’s driveway,
parked, and he ran a nervous hand through his hair before he managed to make
his way up the steps and ring the fancy doorbell.
Liam opened the door in a white T-shirt, navy silk pyjama bottoms, and sleep
mussed hair. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Zayn standing there.
“Hi, Liam. I’m sure you’ve heard about the engagement by now,” Zayn said. When
Liam nodded he continued, “Niall wants the party to be this upcoming weekend
and he’s graciously offered the roles of best man/party planners to us.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Liam leaned against the wall, arms crossed, thin fabric of his
T-shirt pulled tight. “I’ll get my assistant on it.”
“You might want to forward his list of demands to the poor soul.” Zayn took out
his phone and pulled up Niall’s text. “Your number?” Liam called it out and
Zayn punched it in, forwarding the text to Liam. Once he was done, he pocketed
his phone and looked at Liam. “Was the party fun?”
“It could’ve been,” Liam said, the darkening of his eyes making what he
referred to explicitly clear.
“That was your choice,” Zayn said. He needed to leave because he didn’t know
where to look, the taut line of Liam’s exposed biceps too tantalising, the
wisps of hair peeking from the collar of his T-shirt too intriguing, and as
Liam stepped closer the look in Liam’s eyes was too dangerous, his body filling
the doorway, eyes hooded, mouth wet and open.
“Zayn,” Liam breathed out. He stepped closer and Zayn held his ground, not
moving back when Liam lowered his mouth onto his. The kiss that began was slow
and sensuous, all thoughts of fleeing banished by the wicked movements of
Liam’s tongue against his, rendering Zayn incapable of pushing him away.
Instead he gripped Liam’s T-shirt and kissed him harder, licking into Liam’s
mouth. Zayn felt himself being pressed against the door frame and he moved his
hands to Liam’s back, feeling the strain of muscle under the thin T-shirt he
wore.  His hands drifted lower until he was gripping Liam’s arse, holding him
close, not caring that they were in front of an open door and that anyone could
drive up the driveway and see them. God, he would let Liam fuck him right here,
he wanted him so badly. Zayn bucked his groin hard against him, squeezing
Liam’s arse, sucking on Liam’s tongue before pulling away.
“You feel good,” Zayn murmured against Liam’s mouth, undulating his hips
against Liam, rubbing up against him. He wanted to feel Liam’s cock, bare and
hot, in his hand, so he moved his right hand in between their bodies, easing it
in Liam’s pyjamas, Liam groaning low in his throat when Zayn gripped his cock.
“Please,” Liam said and Zayn began to slowly stroke him while kissing him. He
sped up his hand, feeling the thick, girth of Liam’s dick. Back in high school,
when they’d meet in the shelter, he’d felt the hard length of it pressed
against him a few times, but he never got to touch it and he never got to see
it.
Driven by restless lust, Zayn kissed Liam hard on the mouth before pulling back
to yank Liam’s pyjama bottoms lower on his hips, exposing his cock. It was big,
flushed red and rock hard, jutting out in front of him from a thatch of dark
curls. Zayn wrapped a hand around it, carefully pushing down the foreskin,
exposing the rosy, glistening head and ran his right thumb over it. Liam
hissed. Zayn released Liam’s cock, spitting on his own palm, before returning
his hand to Liam’s hard-on and he began to stroke him off again. He felt his
own cock throb in his jeans as he watched the flushed, wet head of Liam’s dick
disappear and reappear in his fist and he had to lean closer to Liam, rubbing
up against him, easing some of the pressure as he jerked him off. Liam gasped,
rising to his tiptoes, fucking up into Zayn’s hand, chest heaving up and down,
his hands clenched on either side of the wooden door frame, panting wetly.
“Yeah, just like that,” Zayn said when Liam thrust up into his hand. Liam let
go of the door frame with one hand, placing it beneath Zayn’s chin, tilting up
his face until he was at eye level with Liam. The hand crept up to his right
cheek, caressing it briefly before pulling away.
“Kiss me,” Liam said. Zayn leaned in, kissing him hard, plunging his tongue
into his mouth, enjoying how Liam gasped and panted when he rubbed the damp
slit of his cock with his thumb.  
“Does this feel good?” Zayn asked, pulling back to look at Liam’s flushed face,
jerking his hand up and down, not easing up.
“Yeah,” Liam’s eyes were pinched shut, his mouth open. He thrust up into Zayn’s
hand again, breathing hard, the tendons on his neck straining. His tongue
coming out to lick at his bottom lip, he said, “Zayn, kiss me again. Please.”
Zayn leaned in teasingly, brushing his mouth against Liam’s before he
retreated. Liam thrusted into Zayn’s hand, pressing his mouth forward, blindly
trying to find Zayn’s lips. Zayn gave him a quick kiss before moving away,
glancing down to watch his hand working up and down Liam’s dick, squeezing the
hard length of it. He felt Liam close a hand behind his neck and he was yanked
forward, Liam pressing their lips together while groaning desperately, his hips
jerking up before he stilled and spurted in Zayn’s hand, his fingers tightening
at the back of Zayn’s neck, and his tongue thrusting into Zayn’s mouth.
 Zayn stroked him through his orgasm, working Liam’s cock until it was coated
with come. Liam trembled as he ended the kiss, raising his face so that his
forehead was leaning against Zayn’s.
“You okay?” Zayn asked when he felt a shudder run through Liam.
“I just need a minute,” Liam replied.
Zayn let go of Liam’s softening cock and pulled away to look at Liam, who still
had his eyes closed, his hair matted onto his forehead, his cheeks flushed
pink, his lips reddened by their kisses. Beyond stunning. Zayn saw a silver
chain disappearing under the loose T-shirt Liam wore and he reached for it with
his left hand.
“Don’t,” Liam said, opening his eyes, but it was too late. Zayn unfurled the
chain from under Liam’s T-shirt, revealing a silver ring that hung from it. His
silver ring, the one he had left on Liam’s nightstand.
“You kept it?” Zayn stared at it.
“It means something,” Liam said.
“Maybe a long time ago. Not anymore.”
“Not true,” Liam said, watching as Zayn slipped the ring onto his left ring
finger, drawing the silver chain taut between them. “It means me waiting for
someone I loved absolutely.”
“I don’t understand,” Zayn said.
“I haven’t been with anyone else, since that night,” Liam said, his eyes warm
and brimming with love. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Zayn tugged the ring off like it burned him, letting it hang limply from its
chain. He needed to leave. He stepped away from Liam, noting that his right
hand was covered in Liam’s come. First he would wash up, then get into his car
and drive until he was as far away from this house as he could get. Then he’d
drive further still.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said, not looking at Liam as he brushed past him,
walking into the house. He heard the slamming of the front door and Liam’s
heavy footfall following after him. Zayn increased his pace, retracing his
steps from Friday night, walking past the living room and the study until he
found the bathroom. He reached for the handle, turned around to see Liam
shaking his head warningly, Zayn slammed the door in his face and turned the
gold key, locking it.
“What are you afraid of, Zayn?”  Liam called out from outside, banging the door
once. “Why can’t you admit that you’re in as deep as I am?”
Zayn’s right hand was covered in Liam’s come and fuck he couldn’t think while
he could still smell it. He went to the washbasin, opening the tap, and rinsed
his hand off. He closed the tap, looking at himself in the mirror hanging over
the washbasin. His lips were puffy from Liam’s kisses, his eyes wild and his
hair falling over his face. He glanced down at himself and fuck, he was still
hard. He gripped the washbasin, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.
Why was Liam holding on to something that hadn’t been real? The entire premise
of Absolute was ludicrous. Making oaths, wearing rings while waiting for The
One was absurd. He had left that fucking ring behind because it had no further
use to him. For Liam to lug it around for seven years while waiting for him was
beyond fucking stupid. There was nothing to wait for. He wasn’t that kid, Chair
of the abstinence club Zayn, anymore. He didn’t do romance anymore.
What he could do was fuck Liam, but that was out of the question because of
that fucking ring. They couldn’t be in the California King Liam mentioned
because Liam foolishly wanted fucking fireworks, candles, and romance. Zayn
couldn’t be bent over the bed, getting fucked hard like he wanted, because Liam
sought after Absolute’s prophesized love making.
He gripped the washbasin tightly, swearing under his breath. He wanted to be in
Liam’s bed. Naked. Liam putting his hands and mouth all over him. The two of
them having each other every which way, the way they should have done years
back.
He let out a breath, raising his right hand from the washbasin, and pressed the
palm of it to his crotch. Fuck, it felt good. He quickly pulled his zipper
down, shoved his briefs aside, and began to work his hand up and down his hard
cock, squeezing his eyes shut, remembering what Liam had felt like.
 “You’re going to ignore me?” Liam called out from the other side of the door.
Zayn moaned and stroked himself quicker. “Because that’s not childish at all.”
“Go away,” Zayn panted out. His hand felt good, but he needed more. He pushed
off from the basin, keeping his right hand on his cock while he looked around
the bathroom. Next to the hand wash was some type of fancy hand lotion. That
wouldn’t do. Squeezing his cock, he opened the cupboard under the sink and
looked around. Unopened toothbrushes, rolled hand towels, little packaged
soaps. He threw it all out onto the floor until he found what he was looking
for; there, in the back, was a small tub of Vaseline. He reached for it,
clicked it open, and sunk two fingers into it.
“Zayn, open the fucking door.” Liam banged the door, the wood creaking, the
sound reverberating from the marbled walls.
“No!” Zayn shouted. He pulled down his jeans and pants until they pooled around
his knees, bracing one hand on the wall, and guided one greased finger into
himself. He whimpered when it got in past the knuckle and paused before pushing
it all the way in. He pulled it out and pushed it into himself again. More, he
needed more. He eased his middle finger in alongside his index, breathed out,
enjoying the stretch, his neglected cock pulsing with need, making him wish he
had a free hand to wrap around it.
He worked his two fingers in and out of himself, chest heaving, the heavy pants
falling from his mouth and the slick sound of his fingers loud in the too quiet
bathroom. He couldn’t hold back a moan as he crooked his fingers, brushing his
prostate and fuck, he shouldn’t be doing this here. Not with Liam on the other
side of the door.
But he needed it. He fucked himself, increasing the pace, cock pulsing until he
became too desperate and pulled his fingers out, turning around so his back was
against the cool wall and immediately began to stroke his cock. It felt good
but it could be better. He let go of his cock, bending down to pick up the jar
of Vaseline, slicking up three fingers before he dropped the container onto the
floor. He perched a foot on the porcelain toilet seat, easing two, then three
fingers back in himself.  He moaned, throwing his head back against the wall,
starting to stroke base to tip and back down again.
“Are you jerking off in there?’ Liam shouted from the other side of the door.
“No,” Zayn moaned out, working his fingers in and out of himself. Liam rapped
on the door loudly.
“I can fucking hear you.” Liam rapped at the door again before a loud booming
sound emanated from it, signalling Liam had kicked it. “Zayn, open the door
before I kick it down.”
Zayn ignored him, biting down on his lower lip and snapped his hips forward,
desperate to come. As long as he was this hard and needy he couldn’t think
clearly. He needed to get off as quickly as possible so he could actually think
clear enough to get out this bathroom, out of this house, and walk away from
Liam.  
“I’ll take care of you, I’ll give you what you need.”
Zayn shook his head. He couldn’t let Liam in, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Remember when you asked what I wanted for my birthday?” Liam said, pausing his
assault on the door. “It was raining and we were in your bedroom. I said, ‘Ask
me tomorrow, maybe I’ll tell you.’ Do you know what I really wanted for my
birthday?”
Zayn worked his fingers inside himself until his hand started to cramp and he
had no choice but to pull them out. He looked down at himself; his cock was
darkened with blood and wet at the tip, shiny with the Vaseline grease. He
closed his eyes and listened as Liam continued speaking.
“I wanted to strip you naked then kiss you until your lips were pink and
swollen,” Liam called out from outside the bathroom door. “I wanted to work my
way down your body until I sucked your cock into my mouth, making you go crazy
for it because no one had ever done that to you.”
Zayn moaned but kept his hands still, his cock leaking onto his closed fist,
resting his head on the wall.
“And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d slip my fingers
into you,” Liam said.  “You’d be so tight and hot but you’d love it and beg me
to go deeper. When you had just gotten used to the one I’d slip in another and
then I’d crook them so that you’d beg me for my cock - and you would beg
because it would feel so good.”
He wanted Liam to fuck him. Even back then, when he was a kid with cartoon
heart eyes, he’d wanted it. Dreamt about it a few times. Hazy dreams of them
down in the shelter, him on his hands and knees, Liam behind him, shoving
Zayn’s thighs apart then working the thick length of his cock inside him. Most
nights he’d wake up, his cock throbbing between his legs, his hips still
driving down onto his mattress and he’d finish himself off, one hand on his
dick, two fingers in his arse, fantasizing about getting fucked by Liam. Other
nights he’d awaken, finding his pants already coated with come, and he’d clean
up and change before getting back into bed, telling himself that it was just a
wet dream and it didn’t mean anything.
Zayn gripped his cock as Liam’s words washed over him, painting vivid, hot
pictures in his brain and fuck, he couldn’t stand it. Fuck it. He let go of his
cock, pulled up his pants and jeans, not bothering to zip them up. He opened
the bathroom door before he could talk himself out of it. Liam stood in front
of him, the thick outline of his cock tenting out his silk pyjama bottoms. Zayn
reached for Liam’s right hand.
“What—” Liam began.
“Just let me,” Zayn said, leaning close to breathe Liam in as he led Liam’s
hand behind himself and into his pants, guiding Liam’s hand in between the
crack of his arse cheeks and letting him feel where he was slick and open.
“Fuck,” Liam said as he easily slid a finger into Zayn’s hole. “Is this what
you were doing in there?”
“Yeah,” Zayn said, rubbing up against him as Liam started to fuck his finger in
and out of him. Liam’s fingers retreated and he turned Zayn around, pushing him
face first into the wall.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Liam whispered, his finger returning to rub at Zayn’s
hole.
“Do it,” Zayn panted out.
Liam pulled down his trousers and pants, pushed his knees apart and spread him
open, brushing the hot, velvet blunt head of his cock against Zayn’s hole. Zayn
whimpered, beyond ready for it when Liam pushed inside of him in one smooth
thrust.
“Oh god,” Liam said as he started to fuck him, deep thrusts that had Zayn
moaning and bucking his hips back to get Liam deeper into him. Zayn braced
himself against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to breathe through Liam’s
punishing thrusts, groaning when Liam swivelled his hips, brushing inside him
in a particularly spectacular manner.
Liam panted wetly against Zayn’s ear, his teeth nipping at Zayn’s earlobe, hard
cock never missing a beat, working in and out of him.  Liam pulled out all the
way and Zayn clawed at the wall, incapable of speech, whimpering as he waited
to be filled again.
“Spread yourself open for me,” Liam said. Zayn let go of the wall and reached
both hands on either side of himself, spreading his arse cheeks. “You’re
beautiful everywhere,” he heard Liam say, feeling a finger brush at his hole,
“especially now when you’re puffy, red, and open from my cock.”
The finger circled his rim and Zayn tried to keep his knees from buckling by
pressing his torso up against the wall for additional support. He widened his
stance as best he could with his legs still trapped in his trousers. He
flattened his palms on his own arse cheeks, continuing to hold himself open,
aware that his cock was leaking all over Liam’s expensive walls, but he was too
far gone to care.  He released a breath and licked his lips, wishing Liam would
put his cock back inside him.
“I bet I could get three fingers in you easily.” Liam pushed his fingers inside
him, causing Zayn’s suddenly weak muscles to tremble.  
“Liam,” Zayn moaned as Liam fucked his fingers in him. He couldn’t keep this
up. He was going to fall.
“You want me to go deeper?” Liam asked as he pushed his fingers in to the hilt.
Zayn gripped his own arse cheeks, keeping himself spread open. “Gorgeous,” Liam
said, making Zayn flush from embarrassment. Liam worked his fingers quickly and
when they brushed Zayn’s prostate, his knees went weak and he let go of his
left cheek to reach behind him to hold Liam’s hand still.
“More,” Zayn said as he gripped Liam’s right wrist. Liam pulled his fingers out
and it was like they were the only thing that had kept Zayn tethered because
his knees were buckling and he was falling.
Liam caught him, his arms encircling Zayn’s waist, as he brought their bodies
to the floor.  Liam settled Zayn on to his back on the marble tiles. The floor
was bitterly cold, but being able to reach a hand between his legs and jerk
himself off more than made up for the discomfort. Liam bent over him, yanking
Zayn’s trousers and pants all the way off, before reaching down to stroke
Zayn’s cock, covering Zayn’s hands with his own. Zayn let go of his cock,
raising his hips up, as Liam stroked him. When Zayn began to buck up faster,
Liam let go of his cock and stripped the white T-shirt he wore, quickly
stepping out of the pyjama bottoms. Liam bundled the items and placed them
under Zayn’s head before he knelt between Zayn’s parted thighs, lifting Zayn’s
hips up and easing his cock back into him. They both moaned.
“I love you,” Liam said when he was all the way in, looking down at Zayn, his
forehead sweaty, his eyes wide and earnest. Zayn shook his head.
“Don’t say that.” he bucked up his hips, meeting Liam’s slow thrusts.
“It’s true.” Liam stared down at him, panting. He leaned down and kissed Zayn,
feather light, on the left cheek, right cheek and once on his mouth.
“Shut up,” Zayn reached a hand down to grip Liam’s arse, pulling him in. He
bucked up his hips and Liam thrust into him, the silver chain suspended between
their bodies, reflecting the light, the ring grazing Zayn’s chest each time
Liam thrust into him.
“I know you love me,” Liam whispered in Zayn’s left ear before nipping at it
with his teeth. “Say it.”
“I love fucking you,” Zayn said. Liam laughed dirtily in his ear.
“That’s progress.” he licked a hot stripe up Zayn’s left ear lobe. “I love
fucking you too.” Liam retreated his cock until it felt like the tip was at
risk of popping out before he thrust into Zayn again, eliciting a whimper from
him. “Say. It.”
“No.”
“No?” Liam stopped thrusting, cock lodged inside Zayn, but not granting enough
pressure for it to feel as good as it did earlier.  Zayn wiggled, trying to get
him to move. He wrapped his legs around Liam, squeezing his arse around Liam’s
cock. Liam groaned but didn’t budge. Zayn thrust his hips up, nudging his dick
on Liam’s stomach, smearing pre-come all over it, while trying to fuck himself
on Liam’s cock. Liam held Zayn down, stopping him from moving.  Zayn tried to
shift around but the hold Liam had on him had no give whatsoever.
“Come on, fuck me.” Zayn could hear the whiny tone in his voice and he would
have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on.
“Not until you say it.” Liam gave a shallow thrust which made Zayn shut his
eyes tight because it wasn’t enough.  
“Please, fuck me,” Zayn said. He craned his neck up, pressing his incisors on
the straining chords of Liam’s neck until he felt Liam shudder and the hold he
had on Zayn loosen. Zayn bucked up his hips now that he was free to do so,
rubbing his leaking cock against Liam’s lower stomach.
“I will stop and go away like I did on Friday,” Liam panted in his ear, shoving
his cock into Zayn hard, brushing against Zayn’s prostate for barely a second
and pulling back until just the tip of his cock remained inside Zayn. “Unless
you tell me you love me.”
Zayn shook his head. “I can’t.” Not again. It hurt so fucking much the first
time.  
“Yes, you can.” He raised a hand to cup Zayn’s cheek. “Fight the fear.”
“You’ll hurt me again.”
“No, I won’t.” Liam caressed Zayn’s lower lip with his thumb. “Part those
gorgeous lips and say it.”
“You never said it back,” Zayn said, feeling his eyes tear up. Because that was
what it had boiled down to when he’d reflect over what had happened over the
years. He’d told Liam how he felt and he had assumed Liam felt the same, but
those words had never actually left Liam’s mouth. Maybe if Liam had said it,
things could have been different, Zayn would have been able to find a way to
make them work, but Liam hadn’t and Zayn had questioned if what he felt was all
in his head. “You were supposed to say it back.”
“The night of my birthday?” Liam asked, his knuckles moved up Zayn’s cheek.
Zayn nodded. “Zayn, I didn’t want to say it out right because it would have
sounded like a line. All through high school you were all I ever thought about.
I was so wasted on you. I did love you. ” He pulled out and slid slowly into
Zayn. “I am in love with you.”
“I love you,” Zayn gasped out. Liam leaned down, kissing him fiercely, his hips
pistoning as he drove his cock in and out of Zayn before he eased a hand
between them and grasped Zayn’s slick cock, jerking him off quickly. Zayn
couldn’t hold back and he was coming, spurts of come hitting his chest, his
stomach, and Liam’s hand.
“So hot,” Liam whispered as he stroked Zayn through his orgasm. Once Zayn’s
cock was spent he let go of it, got onto his haunches, and started to drill his
cock into Zayn. Liam thrust into him a few times before he pulled his cock out
to rub his fingers against Zayn’s hole like he couldn’t help it, pushing his
fingers into Zayn while he jerked his own cock with his other hand. Zayn spread
his thighs wider, watching Liam through half-closed eyes. It felt good despite
his body being sensitive from his orgasm.         
“You gonna get hard for me again?” Liam asked as his fingers brushed Zayn’s
prostate. Zayn lifted his hips up and reached for his own cock. It was slick
with his own come, but it gave an interested twitch when Liam scissored his
fingers inside of him. “Take that T-shirt off.”
Zayn pulled his T-shirt off, hissing when his naked back made contact with the
cold marble floor tiles when he reclined back down again. He returned his hand
to his cock and stroked himself. Liam’s eyes roamed all over his chest and he
let go of his own dick to press a hand on the new tattoos on Zayn’s chest,
rubbing his hands over Zayn’s torso, pressing his fingers on Zayn’s nipples.
 Zayn jerked and Liam’s fingers pressed harder.
“You’re sensitive here,” Liam said. Zayn nodded. Liam raised his own hand to
his face, licking his index and middle finger before he pressed them back down
on Zayn’s nipple. He flicked the hard bud a few times, his other hand still
between Zayn’s legs, fingers working in and out of him. Liam pinched Zayn’s
nipple before he let go, raising Zayn’s hips up so he could watch his fingers
fuck in and out of Zayn’s hole. “So pretty,” Liam murmured, his eyes hooded. “I
could do this all day, but I have to get my cock inside you again.” He pulled
his fingers out and swiftly pushed his thick cock inside of Zayn to the hilt.
“You okay?” he asked as he began to fuck Zayn.
“Yes.” Zayn reached for him with a free hand, pulling him down for a kiss. Liam
slowly pushed his cock in and out of him, sliding his hot tongue against
Zayn’s.
“You feel perfect,” Liam said against Zayn’s lips. “Tight, hot,” he thrust into
Zayn, “slick,” he thrust again, “perfect.”
“I love you, Liam,” Zayn said, Liam moaned and came, spurting hot come deep
inside Zayn, his teeth nipping down on Zayn’s bottom lip as he rode out his
orgasm. He worked his cock into Zayn, once, twice, then pulled out and replaced
his cock with his fingers, shoving his come back into Zayn’s hole, his thick
fingers driving in and out of Zayn, hitting his prostate again and again and
again, Zayn grinding down at them helplessly, chasing that wave.
“Ride my fingers,” Liam said, wrapping his other hand around Zayn’s cock. Zayn
rolled his hips up, gripping both hands over Liam’s and they both milked his
cock until he stiffened and he was spurting strips of come, coating their
hands. When his orgasm subsided, Liam continued to fuck his fingers in and out,
pulling them out then stuffing them back in, rubbing his thumb against Zayn’s
sore rim. He pulled them out completely and collapsed down next to Zayn, his
broad chest rising and falling.
“Fuck, the floor’s cold,” Liam said.
“You won’t feel it after a bit.” Zayn opened his arms and Liam shifted until
his head was resting on Zayn’s chest, his shoulders nestled away from the cold
floor, his right arm thrown over Zayn’s stomach. Zayn brushed back Liam’s hair
away from his face, reaching for the ring hanging from Liam’s chain, tracing
the rigid curve of it with his right index finger before slipping the ring onto
his finger, twisting it around.
When Liam glanced down to look at what he was doing Zayn asked, “You
haven’t—not once in the last couple of years?”
“It wouldn’t have been you,” Liam said, “and I didn’t want an imitation or a
replacement, not when I came so close to having the real thing once.” he leaned
up, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s lips. “I love you.”
Zayn closed his eyes, feeling the bristle of Liam’s stubble on his chin and he
inhaled deeply, his nostrils getting invaded by the exotic woody scent of the
cologne Liam now wore. He wrapped his arms around Liam, not caring that their
skin rubbed wetly from their come and sweat, needing to be close to him. He
held Liam’s scent before exhaling, feeling the heaviness lodged in his chest
collapse, and along with it, the anger, the pain, draining until all that
remained was the warmth and safety of the cocoon of Liam’s love. “I love you
too,” he whispered.
 
 
***** Chapter 19 *****
Liam’s high rise ceiling was correction-fluid white and the affixed chandeliers
glinted down like dozens of diamonds, blurring out the edges of Zayn’s vision.
The marble floor tiles were rhyolite, rigid against his bare back, and his left
arm was slowly falling asleep. Despite all of this he didn’t want to move, not
when Liam had his head against his shoulder, his cheeks deliciously pin
pricking Zayn’s chest, and a heavy arm thrown across his waist, securing him.
“We need to get up,’’ Zayn said, “but I’m too tired to move.” Liam pressed a
quick kiss to Zayn’s neck and spritely jumped to his feet. He bent down to hold
out a hand to Zayn.
“Up we go,” Liam said, pulling him up. Once Zayn was on his feet, Liam bent
down to pick the clothes off the floor while Zayn gingerly stretched, pausing
when he felt something warm and wet trickling down his inner thighs; Liam’s
come leaking out of him. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, but it was definitely
weird.  
“I need to clean up,” Zayn said, taking his clothes from Liam.
“Me too,” Liam replied. “The tub upstairs is much bigger than the one here.
Follow me.”
Zayn walked behind Liam, watching his arse cheeks flex and un-flex as he led
the way to the stairs. The white globes were stark against the tanned skin of
his back and legs, lightly dusted with fine hairs. By the time they reached the
top of the stairs, Zayn could say he was a hundred percent enamoured with
Liam’s arse. It was beyond spectacular and he was definitely going to schedule
some quality time to get personally acquainted with it in the very near future.
 They entered Liam’s bedroom and walked straight through to the in suite
bathroom.
“I’ll take that,” Liam said, taking Zayn’s clothes and throwing them into a
laundry basket.
“I’ll need them when I leave.”
Liam gave him a look as if Zayn’s statement was the most ridiculous thing he
had ever heard. “I’m not letting you leave.”
Zayn smiled. “You’re going to hold me hostage?”
“Something like that.” Liam grabbed some bath oils and poured a generous amount
into the bathtub, letting the faucet run until the tub was filled with foamy,
fragrant water.
“We’re good to go,’’ Liam said. Zayn slid into the tub, Liam following after,
settling in between Zayn’s legs, pressing his back against Zayn’s chest. Zayn
found himself running his fingers through Liam’s hair, smiling when Liam’s
entire body went slack against his. Zayn reached for one of the shampoo bottles
and squeezed a generous amount of product into his palm.
“When I bought this place, five months ago, I never thought my marble floors
would be where we would have sex for the first time,” Liam said as Zayn began
to lather the shampoo on his hair, “but I don’t regret it.”
 “There’s nothing to regret.”
“I once visited you at your college,” Liam whispered, his head lolling along to
the ministrations of Zayn’s fingers. “I saw you out on campus grounds with some
tall shaggy-haired guy. He had his arm around you and you were sharing a
cigarette. I left before you could see me.” Stuart. Dark-haired, softly spoken.
Zayn’s college re-bound.  “Was he your first?” Liam asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Did you love him?”
“No.”
“Did he love you?”
“He convinced himself that he did. It didn’t matter to me either way.” Zayn
scooped up handfuls of water to rinse out Liam’s hair. Once all the shampoo was
washed away, he leaned in to kiss the freckled expanse of Liam’s back. “I wish
you never stopped that night.”
“Zayn, it doesn’t matter now. I always knew we’d end up together,” Liam said.
“That’s why I worked so hard to get all of this,” he gestured around the
bathroom, “because everything was leading us here.”
“Do you really believe that? Even with the expulsion and with what happened
with Sophia and Diana?” Zayn asked, instantly regretting the question when he
felt Liam’s body tense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“It’s all right, it just feels fresh sometimes.”
“You spent six months raising Diana. That doesn’t go away overnight.” Liam
reached for Zayn’s hand, pulling it over his chest, intertwining their fingers.
“I was there when she was born. I had never been so terrified in my life,” Liam
said, voice low.  “She was tiny and I was beyond shit scared to hold her.”
“How did you find out she wasn’t yours?”
“Sophia announced one day that there was a small chance that Diana might not be
my daughter. At first I thought that that didn’t sound right; she felt like she
was mine, but Sophia was adamant. We did the paternity test and it came back
negative.”
“Do you still get to see her?” Zayn asked. The few pictures of Liam and Diana
he’d allowed himself to look at had gutted him, but even he could see the love
in Liam’s eyes for her. He couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to Liam
when he lost Diana.
“Yeah, birthdays and holidays. She’s getting big and has recently started
primary school. She thinks I’m one of Sophia’s friends. She calls me Uncle Liam
when I come around.”
“Do you wish she was still your daughter?”
“Sometimes.”
They sat in the bath tub until the soap suds died down and the water started to
cool, the skin on Zayn’s hands beginning to wrinkle. Zayn leaned forward and
whispered into Liam’s ear, “I want to try out that fancy bed of yours.” Zayn
moved his free hand around Liam’s body, reaching between Liam’s legs to squeeze
his flaccid cock. “What do you say?”
“Zayn, I’ve been celibate for seven years; what would you expect me to say?”
“Something like ‘fuck yes’,” Zayn said.
“Fuck yes, let’s go try out my bed.” Liam stood, wafts of steam emanating from
his glistening skin. He grabbed two towels and he offered one to Zayn when he
stepped out of the tub, before towelling off and exiting the bathroom. Zayn
continued to towel off, squeezing excess water from his hair as best he could
and once he was sufficiently dry he walked into Liam’s bedroom.
                                  *** *** ***
All the curtains in Liam’s bedroom had been drawn close and he had lit dozens
of white candles. Liam lay on the bed, a hand between his legs, slowly stroking
himself, candle light flickering shadows over his body. Zayn dropped the towel,
got onto the bed, and crawled between Liam’s legs. He reached for Liam’s cock,
stroking it slowly.
“Roll over,” Zayn said. Liam rolled onto his stomach, Zayn kissed the nape of
his neck before licking down between his shoulder blades. He kissed his way
down until he reached those spectacular arse cheeks and he bit lightly into the
left cheek, making Liam yelp. Zayn smiled as he licked the sting of his bite
away. “Sorry,” Zayn said.
“You don’t sound sorry,” Liam said, his voice muffled by the pillows.
“How ’bout I kiss it better?” Zayn kissed around the reddened skin before
placing a finger between the cleft of Liam’s buttocks. “How’s that?”
“Better,” Liam said. Zayn placed his left hand across Liam’s arse cheek and
squeezed it, before dipping his finger into the cleft, hovering over Liam’s
hole. He pulled his right hand away and placed it on the other cheek, spreading
Liam’s arse cheeks before leaning in to lick over Liam’s hole.
“Ohh, fuck,” Liam said, wiggling on the bed. Zayn licked again before he pulled
away to look.
“Your arse is blushing.” He lowered his head down and licked before he started
to work his tongue into Liam.
“Oh, god, fuck,” Liam moaned. Zayn worked his tongue in and out Liam, enjoying
how each swipe of his tongue made Liam’s entire body quiver. He licked around
Liam’s hole before he pulled back to place a kiss on the bite.
“Move up a bit,” Zayn said. Liam hitched his hips up, leaving enough space for
Zayn to reach his cock. “Nice and hard,” Zayn murmured when he wrapped his
fingers around Liam. “Like when you used to grind up against me. You always
stopped when I was just about to come.” He sighed, jerking Liam off, rubbing
his own cock against Liam’s backside. “Every time without fail.”
“You had a tell,” Liam said, shoulders heaving as he thrust into Zayn’s hand.
Zayn stopped the movement of his hands and ran his thumb over the wet tip of
Liam’s cock. “Oh yeah? What was it?”
“Your eyes would widen, like you couldn’t believe how good it felt. Then you’d
make these sounds, soft and low like you couldn’t help it, and when you were
really close you’d stop bucking and just lay there, letting me rub against
you.”
“Then you’d stop.”
“Then I’d stop.”
Smug bastard.Zayn worked his hand down Liam’s cock, squeezing it when he
reached the base before moving back up. He rubbed against Liam’s arse and
whispered into his ear, “What if I stopped and walked away?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I could get up right now, get dressed, and leave you with the memory of my
tongue in your arse.” Zayn stopped moving his hand, working his hips in languid
circles, breathless.
Liam reached to cover Zayn’s hand with his own. “You like the way my cock feels
too much to stop.”
“You sure about that?” Zayn eased his hands away and sat back on the bed to
watch Liam.
“Come on, Zayn.” Liam turned around to get on his back, his legs spread, his
right hand going down to hold up his cock at Zayn. “Don’t act like you don’t
want a taste.”
“No.”
“Suck me off.” Liam let go of his cock and it bobbed lewdly on his stomach as
he placed his hands behind his head, reclining on the bed like he was
sunbathing on a yacht in fucking St Tropez.
“You can finish yourself off—you have more than enough practise.” Zayn smiled.
“Seven years’ worth.”
“And I’m sure you’ve had more than enough practise sucking guys off,” Liam
said.
Zayn’s smile fell away. “What was I supposed to do? Not live my life?”
“God, I’m a tosser. Zayn, I was joking.” Liam sat up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean
it like that.”
“Yes, I’ve slept with other people but so did you, back in the day.” Zayn
regarded him for a moment. “It really bothers you that I’ve been with other
guys.”
“No,” Liam replied too quickly.
“You’re lying. You wouldn’t have said that shit to me if you didn’t.” Zayn
shook him off. He got off the bed, aware how ridiculous it was to argue while
sporting an erection.  Liam followed after him.
“Okay, yes! Seeing you with that guy, four years ago, killedme. I feel like I
drove you away from Absolute and into his arms and everyone else who followed
after him. If I hadn’t been so careless, the entire Sophia thing wouldn’t have
happened. Fuck, I wouldn’t have gotten that first girl pregnant. I could’ve
been someone you could love and we could’ve been together all this time. But I
was an idiot. I hurt a lot of people in the process, worse of all, I hurt you.
”
“Mr Winston shattered my beliefs in Absolute, not you,” Zayn said, closing the
space between them.
“I didn’t want you just because you were a virgin,” Liam said. “Yes, it was
part of the attraction—I won’t deny that. But it was the entire package, your
sexy mind, your incredible heart that made me love you.” Liam leaned in close,
pressing their foreheads together. “I will never stop wanting you and I don’t
think less of you because of what’s happened. I’m sorry for what I said, love.”
“Okay.” Zayn kissed him. When it ended, he murmured, “You’ve never called me
‘love’ before.”
“You’re the love of my life.”
“What the hell was in the water at that school?” Zayn wondered.
 “Huh?”
“We all fell in love while we were attending Monmouth so there must have been
something in that bloody water,” Zayn said. Liam laughed and pulled him down
onto the bed.
  
***** Chapter 20 *****
“Technically Harry and Niall’s first love connection occurred before they ever
stepped foot at Monmouth,” Louis said as he steered his car into the busy city
street, “so that blows your whole theory.”
“But don’t you think it’s weird how it all turned out?” Zayn asked.
“Maybe it’s fucking Cupid shooting arrows into our arses, who the fuck knows?”
Louis said. “I’m surprised that you and Liam managed to pull your dicks from
each other’s mouths long enough to actually plan the engagement party.”
“His assistant is doing all the heavy lifting.”
“Was the sex everything you dreamed of?”
“And more. Much, much more,” Zayn said.
He hadn’t left Liam’s house on Sunday. They spent the day in bed, talking,
touching, kissing, and marvelling at each other’s bodies. Zayn’s facial hair
seemed to fascinate Liam and he spent a great deal of time running his fingers
on his stubble. The next morning he had asked Zayn not to shave so he could rub
against Zayn’s bearded cheek when they kissed. On the third day, when Zayn was
sporting the makings of an impressive beard, he’d sucked Liam off slowly,
occasionally leaning forward to bristle his beard against Liam’s thighs. When
Liam’s orgasm hit, Liam deliberately spurted over Zayn’s face, coating Zayn’s
lips, cheeks, and beard with his come. Zayn had looked up at Liam, licking at
some of the come on his lips. That had gotten Liam worked up again and the sex
that had followed had been beyond mind-blowing.
“God, don’t say more. I don’t need to hear about Liam’s cock and how big and
amazing it is.” Louis shook his head, making a face. “Go tell Niall.”
“Will do,” Zayn said. Louis pulled his BMW into a parking bay and turned off
the engine when the car was parked. “Thanks for giving me a lift.”
“That’s what mates do,” Louis said. “Since your car’s still being serviced, how
are you getting back?”
“Liam’s giving me a ride home.”
Louis whistled. “And then some, I reckon.”
“Later!” Zayn shouted, getting out and walking to the elevator. He heard Louis
rev up the engine and race out of P2 like he had Black Annis on his tale.
Fucking show-off.
                                  *** *** ***
Getting access to see Antonia Duncan was a mission even Tom Cruise would fail.
The Titan Industries’ CFO had an assistant who had an assistant who had an
intern who seemed determined to keep Zayn from her office.
“It’ll be a quick in and out,” Zayn said, flushing as he remembered Liam using
the exact same phrase to talk him into a quickie that morning. They’d ended up
fucking on the kitchen table. Forty minutes later, and sufficiently covered in
syrup, they fed each other strawberries. Liam Payne did not do a quick in and
out and Zayn would keep that in mind for future reference.
“I’m sorry, but you have to be authorised by Mrs Duncan herself,” the intern of
the assistant’s assistant said.
“Look here-” Zayn peered down to read the desk placard, “-um, Lucas. This is an
emergency.”
Lucas shrugged his Gucci-clad shoulders and gave Zayn an insincere “sorry”.
Zayn ran a hand through his hair. Bloody hell. He’d thought this would be easy.
He’d added the final touches to the Titan designs, high on love, and the set
was ‘fucking brilliant’ if he was to believe Liam. He’d taken a few composite
pictures and all he needed was for Antonia Duncan to take one look at it. He
was sure she was going have her Victoria Beckham circa 2007 styled hair blown
back. His phone buzzed and he looked at it. Liam.
“Hey, Liam,” he said, turning away from Lucas.
“Did she love it?” Liam asked.
“They won’t let me in to see her.”
“Awww, sorry. I’ll be there shortly to pick you up,” Liam said. “See you in a
bit, love.”
Zayn smiled. “Bye.” It was ridiculous how happy it made him when Liam called
him that. Ridiculous. He was still smiling at his phone when he heard Lucas
speak from behind him. He turned around.
“I knew you looked familiar. You’re dating Liam Payne.” Lucas said, appraising
Zayn.
“Yes.” Zayn pocketed his phone.
“I hear he’s throwing a party.”
“You heard correctly.”
Lucas looked behind him before leaning over the desk. “Get me on the list and
I’ll let you in to see Mrs Duncan. She isn’t in a meeting.” He lowered his
voice. “She just likes me to say that when she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Sorry, it’s a private party for our mates,” Zayn said.
Lucas seemed to think about it for a moment. “Can you organise me front row
tickets to The Niall Horan Band’s next gig?”
“Sure.” Zayn walked to Lucas’ desk and jotted down his number on a green Post-
It. “Drop me a line and I’ll get them to you.”
“I think I’m ready for that smoke break.” Lucas gave him a pointed look as he
got up and headed to the elevator. Zayn walked into the office foyer and no one
looked at him twice as he made his way to the corner office. He knocked once on
the door before letting himself in. Antonia Duncan was seated at her desk and
gave him a cursory, dissatisfied look.
“Our business is over, Mr Malik,” she said as she raised the phone receiver.
“It seems like good security really is hard to come by these days.”
“I’ve painted a new mural - something that befits Titan Industries. It will
take a minute.” He quickly swiped the unlock screen of his iPad.
Antonia Duncan placed down the receiver and looked at her wristwatch. “You have
forty-five seconds remaining.”
Zayn pulled up the pictures he’d scanned through of the new mural. “You wanted
something innovating because that is what comes to mind when one thinks of
Titan Industries. Clean. Sustainable. Refined. Elegant. I have captured the
essence of your brand.” He turned the tablet to her. “Imagine every office,
every boardroom in the company fitted with pieces of this range. Elegant on
their own,” he swiped his screen to the next image, “but better when they are
all fitted together.”
“They’re pieces of a puzzle,” she said, her eagle eyes inspecting the images.
“Yes.”
“We asked for a mural for the foyer,” she said, taking off her reading glasses,
“as in singular.”
“The other pieces are complimentary.”
“Your time is up.” She returned to her laptop and started to type. Zayn nodded
and lock-screened his iPad. He’d tried and that was what mattered at the end of
the day.
“Thank you for your time,” he said, walking to the door.
“Deliver the artwork to our receiving branch on Aliwell Street,” Mrs Duncan
said, causing Zayn to stop mid-step. “The remainder of your fee will be paid
out on our next salary run.”
“Thank you,” Zayn said.
“Close the door on your way out.”
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn was standing in front of the Titan building when Liam pulled up in his
white Ferrari. He climbed into it, aware of people doing double takes and
‘discreetly’ taking pictures with their phones.
“How’d it go?” Liam asked. Zayn leaned across the seats and kissed him square
on the mouth.
“Take me home,” Zayn said when he pulled back, buckling his seatbelt.
“Oh, that well huh?” Liam started the engine and sped them down the street.
Zayn placed his hand on Liam’s thigh, keeping it there the entire way home.
***** Chapter 21 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The event staff had arrived at the arse crack of dawn and had been scurrying
around the house like mice since then. One of the directors of Liam’s record
label had called an impromptu meeting and he’d driven to the city, leaving Zayn
in charge of the party and unable to stop by at his flat to pick up his suit.
Luckily Louis had agreed to graciously rent him one for the evening. Zayn was
stepping out of the shower when he heard a rap on the door. He pulled on a
towel and walked out the bathroom in time to see Louis walking in, covering his
eyes with one hand, suit hanger held in the other.
“Are you lads decent?” he asked.
 “I’m in a towel and Liam’s not here,” Zayn said. Louis dropped his hand away
from his eyes and presented the clothes hanger to Zayn. “One Ralph Lauren suit
as requested.”
“Thanks, Louis.” Zayn took the suit.
“So I assume you and Liam are still in the loved-up honeymoon phase?” Louis
went to the bed, peered at the rumpled sheets, shaking his head as he sat on
the very edge like he was afraid he might catch some dreaded disease.
“Very much so.” Zayn flipped on the walk-in closet light switch and walked
inside it. He pulled out a pair of briefs and put them on.
“Just like that?” Louis called out from the bedroom.
“What do you mean ‘just like that’?” Zayn asked as he put on a dress shirt.
“You were royally pissed at the lad for the last seven years, giving him the
cold shoulder and bad mouthing him at every opportunity.” Louis shouted out,
causing Zayn to pause mid-buttoning up his shirt. “What did he do different
this time ‘round than the other million times he’s tried to apologise to you?”
Zayn finished buttoning the shirt and pulled-on a pair of trousers before
walking back into the bedroom.
“I was finally ready to listen,” Zayn said.
“A bit unfair to Liam, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t choose any of this, Louis. Was I unfairly unkind to him the last
couple of years? Yes. I was angry and hurt.” Zayn walked over to the bed and
sat down beside Louis. “And I was also trying to heal myself the only way I
knew how; by forgetting him. And it didn’t work. When we were having sex the
first time, he made me tell him that I loved him and only when the words left
my mouth did I realise how true they were.”
“Do you think a person ever really gets over someone?”
“Are we still talking about me and Liam?”
“No.”
“Are we talking about Harry?”
“Yes.”
“I think maybe with time,” Zayn said as he stood up, walking to the wardrobe to
put on his shoes and watch. He flipped the light switch off and returned to the
bedroom.
“Ready to go down to the party?” Zayn asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Louis said as he got up. They left Liam’s bedroom
and made their way down to the party.
                                  *** *** ***
The first person Zayn saw downstairs was Niall’s mum. He told Louis he’d see
him later and then he approached her.
“I hear this wonderful soiree is all thanks to you,” she said.
“Me and Liam.” He kissed both her cheeks and she gave a high pitched laugh.
“You two are no longer pretending not to be in love?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I thought it be your ten year high school reunion before you managed to
talk.” Mrs Horan took a sip of her champagne. “Is my ex-husband attending?”
“He was sent an invite, but he hasn’t RSVP’d,” Zayn said, watching as her jaw
tightened in anger. He knew that Niall’s relationship with his father was
tense. Niall had never visited his father and when his band had become
successful, he’d tightened his resolve, saying that the only thing his dad
wanted was his money. Inviting Niall’s dad was a risk because they had done it
behind Niall’s back. There was a chance that Mr Horan hadn’t actually turned
his life around as he’d said and his presence would damper Niall’s mood.
“Sounds like him,” Mrs Horan said. Harry and Josh walked in and she waved at
them, her frown disappearing. “It was lovely to talk to you, Zayn. I need to
have a chat with my future son-in-law.” She patted Zayn’s arm lightly and
headed over to Harry and Josh.
                                  *** *** ***
“Five more minutes then we’re good to go,” Bradley said, looking down at her
wrist watch.
“You’re sure?” Zayn asked.
“Yup, the projector thingamajig has been set up.” She signalled at Liam and he
nodded before clinking his champagne glass.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” Liam tapped his glass with a teaspoon. The
room slowly quietened down. “As you all know, we’re gathered here today to
celebrate our friends’ decision to join in holy, or in their case, unholy
matrimony.” A few people laughed and Liam continued. “We’re about to see a
lovely slide show about how these crazy lads got together.”
“No one said anything about slide shows,” Niall grumbled.
“As I was saying, sit back, relax, and enjoy.” Liam made a drum roll sound and
the lights dimmed down, the screen lit up, and the strings of Avril Lavigne’s
Sk8er Boi began to play. Lover Boy, the title card read in a cursive font.
“He was a boy and Niall was one too. Can I make it any more obvious?” a
horrendously off-key voice sang over a picture montage of the two sweethearts
playing on the projector screen. “They hung out, he got swept away. What more
can I say?”
“Who’s singing so atrociously?” Harry asked.
“Sandy,” Zayn called out.
“He wanted Niall, but Niall’d never tell that secretly he wanted him as well.
But in Year 11, Ireland Niall had to return, so he had to wait for when it’d be
his turn.” More pictures of teenage Niall were overlaid along with some of his
future fiancé staring sadly out of a rainy window. “He was a lover boy. He
said, ‘I love you, Niall’, but Niall was hauled off to Mullingar. He had a
broken heart, he was living day by day. He needed to learn to be okay.”
“This is so bad,” Josh said, covering his eyes. “I can’t look.”
The slide show continued; “Two years fly by. He gets buff and hot, always
working out and whatnot. Niall walks down the street, guess who he sees? It’s
lover boy, rocking skinny jeans. They start hanging out and next thing you
know, it’s not only drums getting banged in the studio.”
“Ohh, god,” Niall said.
“He was a lover boy, he said, ‘I love you, Niall’. He just had to grow up and
mature. Now they are superstars, slamming on their guitars, playing in their
sold-out arena tour.” More pictures play out on the screen. Niall groaned
louder while Harry cackled. “He’s just a boy, and Niall’s one too. Can I make
it any more obvious? Josh and Niall are in love, haven’t you heard? How they
rock each other’s worlds?”
“When will this end?” Josh said, his face pink in embarrassment.
“I think there’s still a stanza to go,” Zayn said. The slide show continued to
play out, showing Niall and Josh touring with the rest of the band earlier in
the summer.
The music swelled and the song started up again, “Niall’s with his lover boy,
he said, ‘Meet me later, boy. Somewhere backstage after the show.’ They’ll be
at a studio, singing a song Zayn wrote about Monmouth where they all used to
go.”
Josh quickly walked to the front, grabbed the remote, and powered off the
projector.  He turned to face the guests. “Uhh, I say more champagne.”
“But we didn’t get to the best part,” Sandy said.
“We’ll check it out later. More drinks,” Josh said. Niall walked to the front
to join him.
“That was a lovely compilation, Sandy. I’m sure everyone enjoyed it,” Niall
said. There were a few hoots. “I want to thank-” Niall stopped talking, turning
pale as he stared at the back of the room. Everyone’s heads turned to look, and
there, having just walked in, was Niall’s dad.
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn followed Josh and Niall out into the garden. “You had no right to invite
him!” Niall was shouting, his cheeks ruddy.
“Babe, he’s your father,” Josh said.
“Where was his fatherly concern when he parked himself off to prison leaving me
all alone?”
“He thought Greg would check up on you,” Josh said.
“Niall, I’ve been where you are,” Zayn said, stepping forward. “Believe me, the
anger you’re feeling is just the fear that you’ll get hurt again. What your
father did was wrong, I agree. But he’s here now and he wants to be a part of
your life.”
Niall shook his head stubbornly. “He’s only here because he wants money.”
“I’m here because I miss my son,” Niall’s dad said behind them. “The rest of
it, the things, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Things don’t matter to you? Is that why you ran cons back in the day?” Niall
spat out.
“That person I was then didn’t realise what truly mattered in life. You didn’t
inherit my weakness. Greg wasn’t so fortunate. I know what I did was
unforgivable, but every day without my boy-” Mr Horan shook his head sadly.
Josh glanced at Niall who still had his jaw set hard.
“I needed you and you weren’t there!” Niall shouted, eyes film-wrapped in
tears.
“All I want is to be your father again,” Mr Horan said. “Please.”
Niall glanced at Josh who lifted an eyebrow at him. “You can stay for a drink
or two, but right now I can’t offer you anything more than that.”
“Thank you,” Mr Horan said.
                                  *** *** ***
Zayn sipped at his champagne, watching Niall and Josh slow-dance to the live
band’s cover of Forever Young, and Louis stepped up next to him.
“They’re really going to do it - tie the knot?” Louis asked.
“Seems like it,” Zayn said. “Do you think you and Harry will ever get married?”
“I don’t know.”
“He loved Niall, but you have always been the one he was in love with,” Zayn
said. “He’s not going to wake up one morning and change his mind.” Harry walked
in, a huge smile breaking on his face when he saw Louis across the room. “How
about you ask him to dance?”
“You know what, mate? I think I just might.” Louis handed his vodka tonic to
Zayn, his eyes still on Harry. Zayn watched him walk to Harry and hold out a
hand. Harry took it, pulled Louis close, arms resting low on Louis’ back, and
closed his eyes as they allowed their bodies to sway to the music.
                                  *** *** ***
The school was pitch black when Louis pulled up the limousine outside its gate.
He parked the vehicle as Liam, Zayn, Harry, Josh, and Niall climbed out, their
evening jackets long abandoned, shirt tails untucked, formerly styled hair all
askew, and ties loosened.
“Fuckin’ place still looks exactly the same,” Josh said, locking arms with
Niall.
“Do you think our old table is still there?” Niall asked, looking up at the
dark building.
“Let’s find out,” Liam said, grabbing Zayn’s arm, pulling him along to the
gate.
“Wait a minute,” Zayn said, resisting Liam’s tugs. “What if we trip the alarm
or something?”
“When have you ever been scared to break the rules?” Liam asked.
“Zaynie’s gotten responsible in his old age,” Louis said as he got out of the
limousine, pocketing the keys.
“Twenty-three is hardly old,” Zayn said. “Come on, Harry. Tell them we’re not
breaking into the school.” All heads turned to Harry.
“I want to see what it looks like now,” Harry said.
“Probably the same as it did when we walked out of it a few years back,” Zayn
said.
Louis put an arm around Harry’s waist. “The only way we can settle this is with
a vote. Gentlemen, all in favour of breaking into Monmouth, say aye.”
 Five voices said “aye”.
Zayn rolled his eyes. “Okay, but if we get caught, one of you is paying my
bail.”
Niall and Josh ran off to find a climbable spot in the fence, Liam, Harry,
Louis, and finally Zayn following after. Once over the fence, they walked to
the back of the building where they found an unlocked window and climbed in,
making their way down the dark halls.
“Let’s check out Mr Elliot’s class,” Louis said.
“Why?” Harry asked.
“You’ll see,” Louis smirked. They went to the left wing and found Mr Elliot’s
class and tried the door, finding it locked.
“It’s locked,” Zayn said, letting go of the handle.
“Let’s see if this dog has changed his old tricks.” Louis glanced at Harry.
“Harold, please do us the honour.” Harry nodded and easily reached to the top
of Mr Elliot’s door, pulling out a silver key. They unlocked the door and
walked in.
“It smells worse than I remember,” Josh said, scrunching up his nose.
Louis breathed in deep. “Hormones and desperation sprinkled with cherry lip-
gloss and a spritz of Axe.” He walked to Mr Elliot’s desk and rummaged in the
bottom door. “Lads, this is what we came for.” He pulled out a bottle of Jack.
“I always knew he was an alcky,” Josh said, appraising the bottle. Zayn saw a
black marker pen on the floor and he pocketed it as Louis said they could head
off to the canteen. They walked down the hallways, their footfall thudding
loudly as they entered the canteen, eyes adjusting to the near darkness before
they headed to the backdoor, unlocking it and walking out to the table where
they used to sit.
“Wow, it’s still here!” Niall said, grazing his fingertips on the graffiti-
laden table.
“Monmouth’s cheap like that.” Louis sat down and twisted the bottle of Jack
open, taking a sip before handing it to Harry.  They heard a siren screeching
dangerously close to the school before the sound slowly died out.
“As I said, if we get caught, someone’s paying for my bail,” Zayn said as he
took the bottle of Jack from Harry. He took a drink and passed it to Josh.
“Zayn, why are you always pleading poverty when you’ve been receiving song
writing cheques?” Louis asked.
Zayn glanced at Liam. “I’ve never actually spent any of that money. It didn’t
feel right.”
“It’s quite the golden parachute you must have, given you wrote most of the
songs on the record,” Louis said. “Not that you’ll need it, because you’re
going to be Mrs Payne.”
Zayn kicked his leg under the table. “Fuck off.”
Louis’ smile broadened. “Lads, you should have seen Zayn when I gave him a lift
the other day. His face must have ached from all that smiling because he
couldn’t shut up about Liam’s magical prick.”
“Please don’t,” Liam groaned.
“The sex was the best,” Louis said, mimicking Zayn’s accent, fluttering his
eyes exaggeratedly. “Liam’s giving me a ride home.”
“Continue and I’ll tell everyone what I walked in on,” Liam said warningly.
Louis stopped smiling and Harry turned bright pink.
“Oh, so sweet, Liam’s sticking up for his boyfriend,” Niall said.
Zayn whispered in Liam’s ear, “You’ll tell me later, right?”
“Of course,” Liam said.
“What’s coming up for everyone?” Louis asked.
“Trying to change the topic, Tommo?” Josh asked, leaning against Niall.
“Yes. What are your plans?” Louis asked.
“Niall and I have the Australian leg of the tour beginning,” Josh said. “I’m
definitely looking forward to that.”
“I’ve been seconded to the LA branch of my firm,” Harry said, looking at Louis.
“Six months.”
“Six months isn’t that long,” Louis said. “I’ll be here when you get back.” He
leaned forward and kissed Harry. “Zayn and Liam? What about you guys? Where
will you be in the next few months?”
Zayn glanced at Liam. “Right next to Liam.”
“Right back at you, love,” Liam said.
“So, when will we hang out as a group again?” Harry asked. “I don’t want
another couple of years to pass.”
“Everyone’s attending the wedding,” Josh said.
“But that’s ages away.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed.
“I say, let’s drink up and be happy because, right now, we’re all here,” Zayn
said, grabbing the bottle of Jack to take a sip, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Hear hear.” Liam took the bottle, taking a long swing. They passed the bottle
around until it was empty and Zayn lit up a cigarette, throwing his arm over
Liam, listening to Harry’s spiel on about his horrid boss. After Harry’s
anecdote ended, Niall started singing a song from the new record while Liam and
Josh beat boxed. Out in the horizon, Zayn could make out the first few streaks
of light as dawn slowly made its entrance, heralding the start of a new day.
Soon his cigarettes were long burnt out and Josh’s head bobbed as Niall brushed
back his hair. Louis and Harry’s sotto-voce whispers were half-muted and
everything was so quiet Zayn could easily be lulled to sleep. As the sun began
to rise, everyone got to their feet, collecting what evidence they had left,
before they shuffled to the canteen door. Zayn lingered behind, scribbling on
the table before he caught up with Liam at the door.
“Ready to go?” Liam asked.
“Yeah,” Zayn said, following into the dark canteen after Niall, Josh, Harry,
and Louis. He pocketed the marker, thinking about what he had written on the
table.  The writing was small, black marker blotchy, covering the other aged
and faded graffiti. It would slowly bleed out over the upcoming years, turning
an ashy grey before fading all together like the rest, but the feeling, that
deep-hearted truth, made him certain that what he felt wasn’t fleeting - Liam
was as permanently marked in his heart like the tattoos he wore on his skin.
But, just because he could, he’d written on the table; Z will always love L.
 
                                *** The End ***
Chapter End Notes
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