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Chapter Text

The sun was at an irritating angle. That was the first thing he noticed. The temperature steadily climbing towards 40°C was the second thing he noticed. Using the end of the scarf wrapped around his head to mop up the sweat dripping down his face, Niall edged closer to the tip of the sand dune. If he could angle his lens just so, he should have the right amount of exposure.

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Hey, film wasn’t a thing anymore so he could take as many photos as he wanted. There were times he’d taken over a hundred photos to capture the image he envisioned. But those circumstances were rare, Niall already shifting back into a kneeling position and flipping back through the photos, squinting at the screen against the harsh lighting of the Arabian sun. He tended to be more of an on-the-fly photographer, if he was honest.

Three flips back and Niall was grinning broadly. His first picture was his favourite. As usual. The sun’s rays in the top corner, the man and his horse perfectly centralised, the barrenness of the desert visible of either side. It was exactly what he had wanted to capture the second he’d spotted the lone traveller from inside the rented car.

“Niall!”

Ignoring the call in favour of taking another shot, just in case this one was better and captured the mood more, Niall huffed when his boot was nudged.

“Hey Rashid, busy.”

Rashid snorted behind him. “No, you’re not. You already grinned. You got what you came for.”

Snapping the lens cap back on, Niall swivelled around, smiling at his guide-cum-friend. “Know me that well already?”

The other man rolled his eyes. “You’re not hard to read. Now come, Hamdan has answered your phone.”

Niall frowned even as he started collecting what little things he’d brought with him; his camera bag, a mini tri-pod, his snapback which had since been abandoned along with his RayBans. “Why’s Hamdan even answering me phone? I told you to just let it ring out. ‘s never important.”

“Well it wouldn’t stop,” Rashid deadpanned. “And we can only stand Justin Bieber so many times.”

The comment came with a playful wink but Niall protested regardless, bumping their shoulders together before sprinting off across the sand. Naturally, he slipped on the loose silt and tumbled down, laughing raucously when Rashid pulled him up with a huff. Dumping his gear in the backseat, Niall jumped in, leaning between the two seats and blinking when a phone was thrust in his face.

“He is very determined to talk to you,” Hamdan said, voice strained.

“Who?” Niall asked as he took the phone.

“British person, I don’t remember his name. He’s most impatient, answer him quickly.”

He muttered something in Farsi under his breath, causing Rashid to scold him. As they continued to bicker in their native language, Niall sunk back into the leather, pressing the phone to his ear tentatively and quite tempted to hang up already. Hamdan would kill him if he did that though.

“Hi, this is Niall Horan,” is what he ended up saying. What followed was a series of requests for clarification, some repeating, more clarification, a plethora of ‘what’s and ‘but’s that ultimately got him nowhere. Well, that was a lie. It got him somewhere. Specifically, it got him on a plane to London not even four hours later with a valet waiting to collect him on the other side.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d said it in the past twenty-four hours but, as Niall hoisted his backpack higher and approached the man with ‘Niall Horan’ displayed on an iPad, he couldn’t help but say it one more time:

“What?”

***

“You are not allowed to hate me!”

Of course, those were not the words anyone wanted to hear come out of the mouth of their agent. Especially not when said agent had also brought in their other client, as well as the stylist. Something was about to happen. Which was unfortunate because Zayn Malik didn’t like it when things happened.

Things happening led to things like his agent, Liam Payne, signing him up for yoga and a smoker’s quit-line…something that left Zayn furious and stroppy for weeks.

Things happening led to things such as his stylist Louis Tomlinson “accidentally” walking into Harry Styles’ dressing room…and doing such a good job on his hair and make-up that Harry had begged to employ him on the spot.

Granted, they were all friends now, Harry having since swapped to being under Liam’s management and somehow weaselling his way so far into Zayn’s heart that they were actually friends. Louis was head over heels for him, which Zayn allowed because Harry had no clue and it was hilarious watching Louis’ attempts at flirting fall flat on their face every second day. And even though Liam was their agent and Louis merely their stylist in some people’s eyes, they were, the four of them, a tightly knit group that hung out even in their spare time purely because they wanted to. Liam was Zayn’s plus one to everything, Louis was Harry’s. They liked and trusted each other.

And yet…

Trust could only go so far when Liam looked so damn edgy.

“What?” Zayn asked flatly, tearing his gaze away from where Louis was asking Harry’s opinion on his new designs…while slowly shifting closer and closer until he was all but in the model’s lap.

“Not everything that’s new’s a disaster Zayn,” Louis tutted, barely bothering to even flick his gaze up.

“It’s not bad,” Liam insisted, taking a seat on the armchair opposite. “It’s just this new Gucci shoot.”

“Simon’s heading that one up, right?” Harry asked, gently batting Louis away so he could lean forward; Gucci was always a favourite of his, more outrageous than Zayn’s preferred Armani looks, all smooth and dark.

“He is,” Liam confirmed. “But they want to do something…new. Edgy. Vibey? Is that a word?”

“Yes!” Louis called distractedly, chewing on the end of his pencil as he glared holes into…Zayn peered closer. An outline of Harry’s crotch? Huh. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Okay, vibey.” Liam nodded once more. “But yeah, so instead of working with your usual photographers, Simon’s gone and gotten someone new.”

Zayn’s expression flattened out and Louis actually placed his pencil down. “What?!” he screeched. “No! I like Cara and Lisa! I know exactly what makeup to do for their shoots because we have set lighting agreements – like, not in stone but it’s always the same – and they let me get away with shit and-”

“Who’s the new photographer?” Harry inquired over Louis’ ranting. “Anyone we know?”

“Niall Horan?” The way the name rolled off Liam’s tongue made it sound as though it was unfamiliar to him too which didn’t bode well. Liam knew everyone in the industry and he rarely signed Zayn or Harry to people he couldn’t personally recommend. Zayn’s eyes narrowed. 

“Who’s that then?”

“Niall Horan?” Harry repeated slowly, reaching for his phone.

“You know who that is?” Liam and Louis asked at the same time.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Harry mumbled, selecting an app and opening it, clearly looking for something, making a little ‘ah!’ noise when he found it. “Thought so. He’s this Instagram photographer. Very famous. Runs a bit of a travel blog. Quite the following.”

No one spared Harry any attention, each of them pulling their phones out and typing Niall’s name into various platforms. Louis found him on twitter, reading out a couple of tweets and clearly digging for some sort of juicy dirt. Liam was doing a standard google search while Zayn was on the same Instagram account Harry undoubtedly was. And, okay, with 14.4 million followers, he was quite popular. He was a million or so away from Harry but still a fair way behind Zayn – 21.2 million, but not that he checked regularly. Okay, he checked most – every – morning (and evening) but hey.

Numbers, however, where not Zayn’s biggest problem. No, Zayn’s biggest problem was,

“He’s a landscape photographer.”

“He’s a very good one,” Harry said defensively. “I’ve been following him for years. I love his work. This one photo from Machu Pichu-”

“Simon must have seen something in him,” Liam stated firmly, sending Zayn a pleading smile, all but begging him to play nice. “Maybe we can look through his photos together? Get a feel for his work?”

Zayn crossed his arms but gave a tight nod. Liam squeezed his knee in thanks before shifting onto the couch so he could see the screen of Louis’ laptop. Louis pulled up Instagram while Harry grabbed four beers, handing them out before settling down. It took them nearly three hours to go through the photos, starting at a picture clearly taken somewhere in the Middle East and ending with a black and white photo of a burnt out house that simply had the caption “from the ashes we rise”. It was also the photo with the most likes and even Louis admitted to recognising it, Harry nodding and saying it was Niall’s most famous photo, dubbed “the one that started it all” by his fans. Zayn didn’t know Instagram celebrities were even a thing, let alone had fans. He then nearly choked when Liam, who’d been doing some digging, revealed that Niall earnt anywhere between £15,000 and £25,000 per photo.

Louis whistled lowly. “Holy shit.” He scrolled to the top, eyebrows rising higher with each second it took. “He’s not running short of anything then. There’s hundreds of photos on here. Bloke must be loaded.”

“I bet his flat’s amazing,” Harry murmured somewhat dreamily. “I bet it’s neutral colours and minimalist, with like polaroids everywhere. Think he’d let us visit?”

“Harold Styles, what the fuck are you on about?” Louis snapped.

“Still doesn’t photograph people,” Zayn growled, glaring at Liam who held his hands up. It was true. There wasn’t even a candid anywhere in Niall’s entire gallery. The closest they’d gotten was a pair of boots overlooking a gorge.

“Simon wanted him and you want this job.”

And there it was.

When Liam put it like that, Zayn had no room to argue. Gucci was one of his highest paying jobs and they were particularly picky with their models. The fact that both he and Harry had managed to get chosen was luck enough, although that probably had more to do with the fact that they were currently the hottest thing on the market and everyone wanted Zayn Malik and Harry Styles to wear their clothing. Zayn was pretty sure he’d been given three years’ supply of the clothes in the last six months alone.

“Okay,” he grunted, finally unfolding his arms. “But I still think it’s stupid, yeah?”

“Noted,” Louis called as Zayn headed for his bedroom, trusting the others to let themselves out when they were done.

“Please don’t be an arse to him!” Liam added, voice begging but also warning. “Give him a chance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn muttered. He then slammed his bedroom door shut.

Supermodel being photographed by someone who could use filters and post square photos all because it was “vibey”. God help him.

***

They’d been directed to their usual studio, the camera stands already lined up and waiting while Louis bounced his make-up case on his knees. He was itching to go, fingers tapping on the metal but all too aware that he couldn’t start until he knew what this Niall wanted. Zayn grit his teeth. Hopefully he wasn’t into slathering his models with glitter or predisposed to obscenely loud eyeshadow. It was something Zayn had been lucky enough to avoid – mostly – so far.

“Is it through here then?”

A loud voice echoed from the hall, lilting Irish accent bouncing off the walls before a man popped into their room. If he was perturbed by four inquisitive faces, he didn’t show it. The blond hair – ugh, that was so unnatural…and who did it for him since he was so constantly on the move?! – shone under the halogen lighting as the man shuffled closer, smile luminous.

“Finally got the right place,” he said cheerfully. “God knows I nearly got lost more than once. I’m Niall Horan.”

“Liam Payne.” Liam was out of his chair so quickly it almost tipped, Harry hastily grabbing for it while Louis cackled. Liam shot them a look before holding out a hand, Niall shaking it enthusiastically. “Yes, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Liam. I manage both Zayn-” he pointed at Zayn, who merely stared back indifferently, “-and Harry”. In comparison, Harry waved with both hands, bounding to his feet.

“Love your work mate, honestly. Couldn’t believe it when Liam said you were working with us.”

“Ha, that makes two of us!” Niall laughed, shaking Harry’s hand. “Don’t have a fucking clue what I’m supposed to do.”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed. “Why’d you accept the job then?”

“Zayn,” Liam hissed but Niall waved him off.

“Have you ever tried to say no to Simon?” He winked and then peered round him to where Louis was. “I’m Niall, again.”

“Louis Tomlinson.” He gave a thumbs up before starting up a staccato on his make-up case once more. “Um, so, what are we doing?”

“The fuck if I know.”

Zayn’s hands gripped the arms of his chair and even Liam and Harry looked horrified. Louis looked like he was about to have a heart-attack, mouth opening and shutting repeatedly. Niall eyed them up before strolling over to the blank screen, carefully setting his bag down and doing a mental assessment of all the props in the room.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Louis demanded.

“Hey, I got pulled out of Iran to photograph people because I’m edgy or summat.” If Zayn was honest, Niall sounded as impressed with the idea as they all had. Interesting. “But life’s an adventure, right? You gotta make the most of it, so here I am.”

“Here you are,” Liam chirped, pasting his business smile on his face.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Harry said, slinging an arm around Niall’s shoulders and giggling when Niall burrowed into his neck.

“I like you,” Niall mumbled. “You’re cuddly.”

Louis seethed from his chair and it made the edge of Zayn’s mouth quirk up just a bit.

“Whoa, didn’t think that was possible.” Zayn’s gaze flickered back round only to find their supposed ‘photographer’ a bare foot away from his face. Niall then poked his cheek. “Didn’t think this face moved,” he teased. “Is that a model thing? You think you look best like this so you stay like it?”

Louis howled with laughter and Zayn folded his arms. “At least I know how to do my job.”

Niall’s face dimmed. “Right. You’re one of them.” He turned on his heel, striding back to Harry. “Come with me to the screen and we’ll see if we can put some angles together, play with the lighting? Louis,” Niall called as he led Harry away, “I won’t do coloured lighting or anything, let’s keep things as natural as possible. Take that one,” he nodded at Zayn, “and do whatever it is you need to do to make him presentable. Since I usually photograph things without feelings I figure we’d best start with him. At least then I’ll have a familiar aspect to work with.”

Zayn was pretty sure he heard Liam’s jaw hitting the ground and Harry gasp quietly but he ignored them, gripping Louis’ arm and yanking him up. “Come on,” he snarled. “Let’s do what the fucker says. Then perhaps we’ll stand a chance of getting out of here before the sun goes down.”

***

Steering Harry into the centre space, Niall unzipped his bag, pulling out his camera and taking a few quick shots, wincing at the underexposure. As he fiddled with the isotope levels he felt the model’s gaze on him. Niall looked up, amused when Harry didn’t shy away from the eye contact, instead merely holding his gaze.

“Can I ask how old you are?” Harry asked, rocking back and forth cautiously, as if afraid to move his feet even an inch from where Niall had positioned him.

“I’m twenty-three, but I’ll be twenty-four in September. And for Christ’s sake, move if you want to. You’re not a bloody doll mate.”

Harry jerked in surprise before taking a single step. “…you sure?”

Niall rolled his eyes. “I’ll come over and topple you myself if it’ll get my point across.”

Harry grinned in full force, actually skipping off his mark and shuffling his way around the small space. “You’re the same age as Liam then,” he remarked, fluffing his hair up in the reflection of Niall’s lens.

Niall batted him away with a laugh before peering over at Liam with a frown. “Your manager? He’s twenty-three?”

“Yep!”

“Isn’t that…young?”

“Aren’t you?” Harry challenged. “Already world famous and travelling the world.”

Niall shrugged, taking several more shots, satisfied this time. “Didn’t need a degree to do what I do. Pretty young to get through university and climb the ladder this fast.”

“Simon helped,” Harry supplied absently, attention caught elsewhere.

Niall followed his gaze, watching as Louis applied the barest hint of eyeshadow to Zayn. He murmured something before spraying his face. Clearly there had been a misunderstanding because Zayn ended up with an eyeful of spray and they both started shouting.

“Louis, you fucking dick!”

“Don’t Louis me! I said “shut”! Face full of Urban Decay a nice feeling then?”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t rub it! I worked hard on that!”

Harry laughed loudly, Niall hastily raising his camera because he looked so happy, so carefree, like he was having so much fun. As the ruckus died down and Harry slipped back into something more neutral, Niall went back through the shots.

“That’s…that’s a really good one.”

“Jesus!” Niall jumped a good foot, whirling around to find Liam peering over his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry! I just…” Liam tapped at the screen, Niall exhaling loudly at the smudge that action left behind. “That’s a really good photo of Harry. Looks very…I don’t know the word.”

“Natural.” Niall tightened up as Zayn came over, eyes no longer red and expression completely blank. “The word you’re looking for; it’s natural.” He gave Liam a tiny shrug as he gestured Zayn forward. “The best things in life usually are.”

***

They were given three days to complete the shoot. Three days Zayn would have to deal with Niall Horan before his name, and grating voice, was never heard again. Zayn wouldn’t say he didn’t like him on principle, it was more that he had no sense of tact, no prior experience, no idea what the hell he was doing, no sense of style…Okay, Zayn didn’t like him on principle. Which was why, upon gathering his things and preparing to head back to Louis’ after their last day of shoots, Zayn froze upon hearing Harry call out,

“Hey Niall! Got any plans for tonight?”

Niall jerked up from where he was packing his gear away, looking quite startled. “Eh…no?”

“Wanna hang with us?”

“You…you want me to hang with you?”

And did…did he sound borderline fragile?

Harry rolled his eyes, hands fisting on his hips. “Yeah, of course. You’re fun. I like you.”

Which, he did. Of course he did. Zayn was honestly surprised he hadn’t seen it coming it was so blindingly obvious. They’d spent a mere seven hours together and the two had already been interacting on twitter. Sure, it was innocent enough-

NiallIRE: london tubes are a fucking mess. I just wanna get home, tired af

Harry_Styles: @NiallIRE but didn’t seeing my face make it worth it?

NiallIRE: @Harry_Styles not a chonce
NiallIRE: *chance
NiallIRE: fuck

-but Harry and Zayn’s fans were ridiculously devoted. There was a reason Louis and Liam had millions of followers, and it wasn’t because of Louis’ make-up tutorials. No, it was the little snippets they got of their favourite people’s private lives. And now, clearly, Niall was a part of that group. Already his twitter follower count had spiked and Zayn had searched his mentions and found hundreds of variations of: do you know Harry?!?!

But Zayn had never thought that would resonate back into real-life. Social media was an image, fake. He could say one thing online and never mean it in person. Entire friendships could be faked or implied but this…this…Why was Harry making this a thing? From the thunderous look on Louis’ face, he was thinking much the same. Which, good, Zayn could use that to his advantage. If Louis wanted to be a jealous, insufferable twat, then so be it.

“Harry,” Zayn called, voice smooth and gentle and, holy fuck, did Niall’s eyes just narrow? It threw him a bit. “I…I’m sure Niall’s busy, yeah?”

Harry’s lip were filling into a pout but Niall was already holding his hands up. “Mates, it’s fine. He’s right.” He jerked a thumb at his bag. “Was just gonna go back to the hotel and go through these and-”

Wait, hotel?!

“You…you’re staying in a hotel?”

Niall blinked at Zayn’s interruption. His expression then turned quizzical. “Yeah, of course. Got nowhere else, do I?”

And okay, that may have possibly been the saddest thing Zayn had ever heard. Harry looked like a kicked puppy and even Liam had been turned into a simpering mess. “Don’t you have a flat?” Liam wheedled. “Friends? Family?”

Niall folded his arms tightly. “I travel constantly for a living. Doesn’t do much for long-term friendships, does it? The friends I have are the ones I make along the way and then…once you leave the country, you leave them.” He managed a sunny smile but Zayn could tell it was an effort. “But they have the best stories and it doesn’t make me treasure them any less. The world is full of amazing people. I’m just lucky I get to meet so many of them.”

No one quite knew what to say to that, Liam eventually getting the nerve to speak just as Niall was about to head to the door. “Hey, why don’t we combine the two?” he suggested. “Let’s all go to Niall’s and we’ll have some drinks and go through the photos together?”

“Sure, just invite yourself over Li’,” Louis drawled, smile crooked.

Liam looked mortified. “Oh my god, no! I didn’t…that’s not what I-”

“Liam!” Niall laughed, stomping back over and shoving him teasingly. “You’re not creepy so forget that. And if you wanna come, come. I can’t promise I’ll have much to keep you entertained but it’s a nice enough place. View’s good.” He gave them a thumbs up. “I’ll give Liam my address. After you lot get all that shit off your faces, hit me up!”

He waved before disappearing out of the studio and Zayn only had to look to his right before groaning loudly. Oh alright, they were going then.

***

Niall’s hotel room wasn’t much, really. It had a large double bed, an equally large bathroom, and a serviceable kitchen that backed onto a living area with two couches and a tv. What Zayn found interesting though was that it looked all but untouched. In the armchair tucked between the bed and the large window overlooking London city sat a backpack, pieces of clothing scattered in and around it…and that was all. They found Niall sitting on one of the sofas with his feet propped onto the coffee table and an old Mac resting on his lap. He smiled brightly as they all came in, Louis stamping out the water from his shoes and Harry shaking his ridiculously long hair.

“Heya boys!” Niall called cheerily, not even making the effort to stand, just waving serenely. “Shut the door on your way in.”

Liam did so as Zayn and Harry dumped down their bags. “You eaten Niall?” Harry asked as he started taking things out.

“Grabbed a bite on the way home but give me a shout if there’s leftovers.”

“There’s always left overs,” Liam informed him, starting to go through the cupboards and pulling out five plates. “These boys don’t always eat as much as they should.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed at the same time as Zayn’s. “And whose fault is that?” Zayn sneered.

“They still fucking do that then?” Niall asked, voice laced with anger. At Liam’s questioning look he gestured in the models’ directions. “Make them starve themselves?”

Liam winced. “It’s getting better. There’s a been a lot of pressure to drop weight requirements so we’re doing alright.” He bumped Zayn’s hip playfully, making him grunt. “Besides, these two don’t have the biggest builds to start with.”

“If they did, they wouldn’t even get their foot in the door,” Louis tacked on, gracelessly dropping down beside Niall, plate full and an identical one in his other hands for Niall, who took it with a quiet ‘cheers’. He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“We’re not under as much pressure as the women,” Harry pointed out, sliding into a chair of his own. “So, that’s something. Doesn’t mean we’re still not advocating for more change. There’s a long way to go.”

“Think it’s a joke,” Niall spat, scowling down at his dinner and then almost guiltily at Zayn’s plate.

“Oh for God’s sake, don’t compare yourself to him,” Louis groaned. “Zayn’s just fussy. Nothing to do with his contract, promise.”

Zayn glared at Louis but drew his knees up protectively, shielding his meal from view. It wasn’t that he didn’t eat, he just preferred little bits of everything and so it never looked like much. Sure, he didn’t eat entire pizzas but he wasn’t on a water and cabbage only diet either. It didn’t seem to reassure Niall though and Zayn sent him a dark look because why did he even think it any of his business?

Liam was the last to sit down, meticulously organised with everything from cutlery to napkins. “So Niall,” he said around his first bite, “how do you think it’s been go-”

“Oh my god Liam!” Louis cried, hands flailing. “We’re eating! Fucking hell, give us five minutes’ peace!”

“Easy Louis,” Harry murmured, gently grabbing his hands and silencing him instantly, Zayn snorting in amusement. “I kinda wanna know myself.”

“Oh…” Louis looked delightfully besotted. “Well, Harold, I suppose…for you…”

Harry grinned, dimples popping, and how was he blind to the way Louis went bright red? Zayn doubted even a neon sign would be more obvious. Niall was watching the interaction with a quirked eyebrow but he indulged Harry and Liam nonetheless. He tapped the top of his laptop with a finger. “It’s all on here, if you wanna see.”

Louis spared the device a condescending look. “That’s tiny mate. Need a bigger screen, don’t we?”

Niall shrugged, nonplussed. “Don’t have one. Take it or leave it.”

Louis did so, swivelling the laptop around until he found the memory card undoubtedly holding the photos. “Can I take this out? I’ll plug it into mine.”

“There’s a cable in my satchel’s front pocket,” Liam called offhandedly as Louis got to his feet after seeing Niall nod. “We can hook it up to the tv that way.”

Seeing as how the tv was definitely bigger than his Mac, it wasn’t even a question as to which option Louis would take. He scurried about setting everything up while Niall looked almost unimpressed. He must have felt Zayn’s gaze, raising an eyebrow in his direction. Zayn stared back indifferently for as long as it took for him to realise that Niall was never going to be cowed. He eventually let his gaze slide away, pointing at the backpack behind them.

“That all you brought?”

“That’s all I’ve got.”

Louis nearly dropped the laptop and Liam choked on his chicken. Harry’s eyes were near bulging out of his skull. “S-sorry?!”

Niall looked between all of them incredulously. “What? For fuck’s sake lads, do you forget I travel for a living? Often to remote places?” He took a swig of his beer. “You try wheeling two suitcases up a mountain.”

Zayn was already on his feet, poking through Niall’s bag as if this wasn’t a massive invasion of privacy. “Yeah, but, what about other clothes? You fit, like, three sets in here.”

“Then three sets is all I have at the moment.” Niall’s tone was so blasé Zayn felt like he needed to sit down. Harry looked thankful that he already was. “When those clothes wear out, I buy more,” Niall explained, as if it really was that simple. “Pretty sure everything in there is from a different continent but hey, nearly every country has a variation of jeans and tees so I do alright. It’s swapping shoes that’s the real hell ‘cause those things weigh tons so you really gotta buy them as you need them. I think I go through a pair a fortnight just because I’ll go from alps to the beach, you know?”

“And that’s why you have this laptop?” Louis questioned, inspecting it with a little more care now. “Because it’s small and fits in there?”

Niall smiled. “’s about right.”

“But you must have a home,” Liam interjected. “Like, somewhere you grew up. With your family.”

Niall’s face morphed into a dark scowl and if Zayn didn’t know better, he’d say the room had become icy. “Think you should mind your own business,” Niall snapped and yep, icy. “You wanted to look at photos, so go do that.”

“Niall!” Harry begged as the Irishman stomped away, abandoning his meal and lunging over the sofa’s arm to wrap his arms around Niall’s waist, tugging him back. “Sorry Liam’s a nosy dick. Don’t go; we love you really.”

Zayn’s nose scrunched. Love was probably a bit strong.

Much too strong.

“Jesus Harry, don’t be so dramatic,” Niall chuckled, prying him off. “I was just putting my rubbish away. Calm your pants.”

“He doesn’t wear any,” Louis said absently, making Harry squawk.

“How do you know that?” he screeched.

Zayn laughed, coming to lean over the back of the couch, chin propped atop Harry’s head. “Haz, he ogles your junk every hour. You’ve seen the sketches.”

“Those are for work!” Harry protested, Zayn grinning slyly over at where Louis was attempting to glare holes into him.

“Hmm, s’pose they are,” he remarked, sliding round to slip into Harry’s lap, Harry drawing him in without thought. “Just…next time you get the chance, see how many he’s done of my-”

“Okay, enough!” Liam cried, clapping his hands over his ears. “Work, now. Leave your genitals where they should be. Which is out of conversation!” he added when both Zayn and Louis opened their mouths.

Zayn pouted but at Liam’s stern look he reluctantly shuffled off Harry’s lap. It placed him closer to Niall and Zayn cringed every time he had to hear that obnoxiously loud voice. It almost made Zayn want to duck out early, feign tiredness or a headache but then…then he actually saw the pictures that Niall had taken. And, shit. They were good. Brilliant, actually. Aces.

“Fuck…”

The word came from Louis and Zayn didn’t think he’d ever agreed with the other man more. He didn’t think he’d actually seen a photo that looked so much like Harry in years. The man on the screen, he was all warmth and love and fun, nothing like the severe, pouting looks he normally did. Out of the corner of his eye, Zayn saw Harry shoot Liam a loaded look. Zayn didn’t know what that meant but Liam obviously did, nodding and typing something into his phone.

“You sure you don’t do this for a living?” Louis demanded incredulously, pointing at the screen emphatically as he flipped through more images.

Niall gave a derisive snort. “Please. I still don’t have a clue.” He blinked as everyone stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“This!” Liam stressed, all energy and buzz. “These are good. Like, very good. Professionally good.” His face got that business edge to it as he pointed to Harry and Zayn. “I wouldn’t accept anything of less quality for these two.”

“You are really good,” Harry praised, voice warm and mellow, smiling at the picture of Zayn half-hiding in the collar of his suit jacket. “I mean, he’s even smiling in that.”

“Oi!” Zayn barked, giving Harry’s hair a jug. “I smile!”

Louis, and even Liam, looked dubious. “You really don’t,” Louis tutted, shaking a finger at him. “But, you look good here, and that’s what matters.”

“Is it?” Niall’s voice sounded drained, making them all whip around in concern but Niall merely shook them off, getting to his feet. “Good to know it’s all about the outside. Now, I’m gonna shower. You lot, piss off when you’re done.”

He slammed the bathroom door shut and Zayn raised his eyebrows. Right then.

***

Chapter Text

“Thanks,” Zayn said sincerely, curling around the coffee cup Louis handed to him. It was bitterly cold and the rain certainly wasn’t helping. Zayn felt the cold and he was definitely feeling it this morning. Liam had given him a sympathetic look and had called Burberry, asking if they could postpone the shoot or at least swap to an indoor venue. He’d been met with a resounding ‘no’, although an intern had been run out to join them armed with some umbrellas and gloves.

“Li’, what’s call time again?” Louis called, huddling into Zayn’s side. “My fingers will freeze before the photographer gets here. Help?”

Liam went uncharacteristically rigid before pasting a smile on his face. Both Louis and Zayn frowned in unison. Uh oh, that could only mean bad news. “Call time is in fifteen,” he said, blatantly ignoring their gazes as he tacked on, “And…uh, as for make-up…think they’ll want to keep it simple. Um, natural?”

Zayn had a bad feeling about that, knew there was something crucial in the way Liam said ‘natural’ but before he could question it Harry’s Range Rover pulled up at the end of the cordoned off street. The back door opened and-

“What the fuck is with this shite weather? Honestly. Who wants to work in conditions like this?”

Zayn whipped around razor fast, on his feet, hands shaking. “Niall?!” he hissed. “Niall fucking Horan?”

“His photos were good,” Liam snapped, making it clear he was taking no shit from Zayn today. Rain made them all miserable sods, it seemed. “And besides, as of last Friday, he’s got a contract with us.”

Zayn’s mind screeched to a halt, Louis’ jaw dropping open. “W-what?! What contract?”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, us? Don’t you mean you?”

Liam shook his head. “No. Harry set the terms. He’s now not taking jobs unless he gets to bring his own personal photographer; he’s willing to pay penalty fees if companies are inclined towards their own photographers.”

“Fine,” Zayn sniffed, tucking his chin further into his scarf. “If Harry wants to th-”

“I was the one who added your name.” Zayn grit his teeth and was so ready to speak when Liam clapped him on the shoulder; hard. “You know he’s good so get over whatever this petty vendetta is.”

“It’s not a vendetta.”

“That’s exactly what it is! You’re being painful because you can be!”

Zayn stabbed Liam’s chest with a finger. “No, I’m being painful because he’s not fucking qualified for this fucking job!”

There was a long, drawn out moment of silence and Zayn instantly knew why. Liam’s eyes were wide and Zayn took a breath before turning around. As he’d suspected, Harry and Niall were right there. Niall barely spared him a cursory once over but it was Harry that was visibly seething, eyes dancing with fury.

“What’s that?” he demanded. “Niall not good enough because he doesn’t have a piece of paper? What he’s already shown you he can do not good enough for you?”

“That’s not-”

“Because,” Harry continued, yanking Zayn forward unapologetically. “Last time I looked, you weren’t fucking qualified either. No modelling school, nothing. Just ripped out of uni because you were pretty.”

Zayn’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, wanting to argue but knowing that he couldn’t. Harry was right. He was as qualified as Niall was. The Irishman was shaking his head at Zayn in something akin to disappointment before turning to Louis, smile open and inviting. “Can you do makeup in this piss poor weather?”

“Course I can!” Louis said, feigning outrage. “They didn’t invent setting spray for nothing.”

“Don’t know what that is and don’t care,” Niall laughed. “Wanna get Harry ready then? Um…I don’t know…Can you make him, like, warm, is that a thing? Cause it’s so grey outside?”

Louis slung an arm around Niall’s shoulder, tsk-ing at him. “Yes, it’s a thing. And I can do it. Some nice golds and soft browns; I know what you mean.” He then removed his arm and beckoned Harry towards the trailer that housed their clothes. “Come on Haz, let’s do this.”

Watching Niall fiddle with his camera and wilting under Liam’s glowering, Zayn shifted his weight from foot to foot before saying, “Hey Niall? I, uh…I just wanna say that I-”

“Couldn’t give a fuck.”

Zayn spluttered. “W-what?”

Niall sent him an exasperated look over the top of his camera. “Look, I already know what kind of person you are. You’re perfect. Primped and primed and thinks that they’re just that little bit better than everyone else but also vehemently denies it so they look humble.” His expression turned flat. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Just be yourself. Which, in your case, is an arsehole.”

“Excuse me?”

“Zayn, don’t.” Liam’s voice was strict, pulling him back as though via an invisible leash. “Get in the trailer, get your outfits sorted.” He sent him a strained smile. “Who knows, the girls might even have some warmer clothes for you.”

It was a meagre hope but Zayn was willing to take it, ducking away and clambering into the somewhat warmth of the trailer. Liam sent Niall an apologetic look. “Sorry. He…I know Zayn can be a bit much. I promise he’s nice, once you get to know him.”

“Once he lets you in,” Niall corrected before shrugging it all off. “And it’s fine Liam, not your fault.”

Liam scratched his neck. “Still, probably should have told him you were coming before, you know, you actually got here.”

“I honestly didn’t think it would matter,” Niall said, commandeering an umbrella and walking around the area they’d cordoned off as their own, making little assessments and taking test shots. “Does he really not like me that much?”

Liam winced. “Um…it’s not that Zayn doesn’t like you it’s just…I was going to say he’s posh but that’s not the word. More like he’s…” Liam waved a hand vaguely. “Particular?”

Niall scoffed. “Would have gone with diva myself but hey, not my job to judge him. He looks good on camera, I’ll give him that.”

“That he does,” Liam agreed. “He’s bloody gorgeous that one.”

“That an interest of yours?” Niall asked, so casually that Liam nearly choked. “Blokes, I mean.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Liam said hurriedly, waving his hands in front of him. “I have this lovely girlfriend, Danielle. Amazing, she is.”

“Careful Liam,” Niall replied, a sharp edge to his voice. “Keep going and it might sound like you’d be ashamed to be considered anything other than straight.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “Shit, no! I…Jesus, foot in mouth. That’s not what I…It’s more than okay to be straight, gay, bi, trans – everything – I just…I’m straight and I think that is as big of a part of who I am as if I wasn’t, you know?”

Niall conceded with a nod. “You’re proud of how you are. That’s good. You should never be ashamed of who you are.”

“They’re not,” Liam said, nodding towards where Zayn, Harry, and Louis were coming back over. “Straight, I mean. Maybe one day, they’ll tell you.”

“Tell him what?” Louis asked, one eyebrow arched high.

“Sexual orientation,” Niall answered, chuckling when they all balked. “Jesus, are you all so uptight?”

Louis shot Liam a dark look before smiling tightly at Niall. “I’m gay, and these two’s sexuality is not open for public discussion.”

Niall watched incredulously as Zayn folded his arms tightly while Harry seemed to fold in on himself, staring at the ground morosely. He whirled straight around to Liam. “Jesus fuck. Don’t tell me they have to closet themselves!”

Zayn frowned a little at that odd choice of words – ‘closeting’ was such a PR term, he wondered where Niall had heard it – but Liam dismissed the subject with a simple shake of the head. “Not important and entirely confidential. Whatever you may hear doesn’t leave this set, right?”

“And if I don’t?”

Niall had made a mistake there because they all knew how intimidating Liam could be, knew exactly how ruthless he could be if need be. “I’m not against slapping you with an NDA so I wouldn’t suggest trying it.”

Niall backed down, though it wasn’t without a scowl in Liam’s direction. “Fine, but it were you that brought it up. Don’t bring up what you’re not willing to follow through on. Now!” he snapped, pointing to the wrought iron fence behind them. “Harry, there, now. It’s cold enough as is. Let’s get a move on.”

“Where do you want me?” Harry asked, shuffling into position.

Where Niall wanted him, as it turned out, was – as usual – wherever the hell he wanted to be. Niall let Harry clamber up the fence, swinging on it like a chimney sweep out of Mary Poppins or something. Harry skipped through puddles and danced with his umbrella, taking a couple of more serious shots because even Niall understood that they needed a bit of everything.

Zayn was easier, sit, stay, shoot, but Niall hated working with him because it was so disappointing. There was no joy and he honestly didn’t know who to blame for that. He encouraged Zayn to muck about but it got him nowhere, Zayn looking honest to God awkward before flumping down on the steps and flipping him off. It made for a great photo, even if Liam groaned loudly in the background, crying that they couldn’t use that.

There was a break for lunch, everyone huddled on the side of the street as they were dished out bowls of hot soup.

“But the collection,” Harry was saying oh so grandly, almost desperately to Niall, “It’s just incredible. That caban! My God. I’ve already arranged to take it home.”

Niall was, simply put, lost. “Um, good for you I guess.” He then turned to Louis. “What’s the caban?”

Louis laughed, rolling his eyes. “That fucking lace trench coat thing. The white one?”

“That?! But it’s useless! It’s made of lace. How does that keep you warm?!”

“Hey!” Harry cried, lips filling into a pout. “It was gorgeous.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not useless,” Niall countered.

“Thought you travellers saw the beauty in everything,” Zayn chipped in, ignoring the way Liam immediately dropped his head into his hands. “Isn’t that what the free spirit thing is all about?”

Niall just looked at him. “Don’t know where you get your shit from Zayn. Never said I were a free spirit. I travel, yes, but because I love doing it. It’s my life.”

“And yet you throw it away without thought.”

Niall turned puzzled, as did the rest of them. “How so?”

“Because this,” Zayn said, indicating the photoshoot. “You do one honest job and then, what, Liam hands you a contract and you sign it, lock yourself in London. Doesn’t sound like travelling to me. Sounds like, I don’t know, a job. Money over dreams, innit?”

“Sounds like, I don’t know, you’re jumping to conclusions,” Niall mocked. “Sorry but you lot don’t even work. This is your first photo shoot in near three weeks. I could’ve gone around the world twice by now. Oh wait, no, I was in Argentina three days ago. Got the pictures to prove it.” He retrieved his phone and opened Instagram, shoving the device in Zayn’s face. “Oh look, I’ve been working. And travelling. What about you? How are your dreams working out Princess Jasmine?”

Zayn’s expression turned murderous. “Excuse me?”

“Suits you,” Niall said around a mouthful of food. “Spoilt and sulky when you don’t get your way. Surprised you don’t have a tiger or something.”

Zayn absolutely did not stomp on Louis’ foot when he opened his mouth; much like he absolutely did not have a Bengal named Raja at his flat. Of all the stupid names Niall had to choose.

“Okay,” Liam said brusquely. “Let’s make a rule that all mature adults can follow. You,” he pointed at Zayn, “and you,” the finger moved to Niall, “can only talk to each other about work and only in civil terms. Zayn, you’re working with Niall, accept that, deal with it, and move on. Niall, the same. You agreed to work with Harry and Zayn. Make this work, both of you.”

Grudgingly, Zayn held out his hand. “Deal?”

Niall shook it, “Deal.”

As Zayn took his hand back, he quickly stuffed it into his pocket. And no, it wasn’t a pathetic attempt to mimic the warmth of Niall’s hand. It wasn’t.

***

“Eleven and a half hours,” Liam was carefully stressing, Zayn’s hands clasped in his own. “It’s direct, so you’ll be getting straight off in Tokyo but it also means no breaks. Okay?”

Zayn shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice, do I? We go where the work is.”

Liam squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I know. But if it’s too far, you just have to say so. We can work around it or give the contract to someone else.”

“I’ll be fine,” Zayn murmured, nudging Liam over so he could sit next to him on the coffee table, head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thanks though. Like, for the concern.”

“I love you Zayn,” Liam reminded him, lips brushing against his forehead. “Even if you do try my patience sometimes.”

“Only sometimes,” Zayn quipped, giggling when Liam pouted at him.

“Hey Liam,” Harry called from where he was leaning against the ceiling to floor window. “Are we actually going to be climbing Mount Fuji?”

“I hope not,” Louis grumbled, shamelessly burrowed into Harry’s side.

Liam raised his eyebrows. “You know you don’t actually have to come Lou’? These boys won’t really need a stylist for this.”

Louis scowled at him. “Shows how much you know.”

Knowing he was going to get ridiculed for this – and probably taunted for months – Zayn carefully said, “Should bring Niall.”

As expected, the room went dead silent. Liam’s mouth was hanging open and Harry was much the same. Louis was the first to recover. “Okay Malik, rich! You can’t stand the guy!”

“You don’t even talk to him!” Harry hollered in agreement, waving his phone. “I at least text him!”

“You’re right, I can’t stand him,” Zayn huffed, flicking his hair off his face. “But Liam said to talk about him when it came to work. And really, think. Harry and I, up a mountain, outside, being photographed. Niall does three of those things for a living. If he’s not the best choice for this, who is? And besides,” he added loudly, lobbing a pen at Harry and making him squeal. “You contracted him as your photographer! The biggest question here is, why isn’t he coming?”

Harry flushed accordingly and Liam rifled through his drawers, pulling out a folder labelled ‘Horan’. “Well,” he said after a moment, rubbing his chin, “The contract officially states Niall should photograph Harry where “the location is deemed appropriate and within reason”.”

“So no sex clubs?” Louis asked with a wink.

It was Liam’s turn to throw a pen, Louis swearing when it got him. “No…well, yes, but more like we can’t drag him around the world. If he doesn’t want to go so far from home, he has no obligation to.”

Zayn coughed awkwardly. “Li’, he never mentioned a home. And, traveller. Everything is within reason.”

Liam eyed him up for a long time. Eventually, he nodded, even if his gaze was overflowing with suspicion. “Alright, you’ve probably just pitched one of your most convincing arguments. I’ll call him but so help me if you two fight!”

***

Niall, as it turned out, had been gallivanting around Iceland at the time. He’d had a couple more places he’d wanted to visit but assured them he would catch them up in Tokyo. The Irishman’s plane was scheduled to land the day after everyone elses’, giving them a day and a half to explore before having to meet up and discuss logistics.

“Okay!” Niall chirped the next day, leading them into the train station because Harry had begged Liam to let them experience as much of the culture as possible. Liam didn’t mind, so long as they met their deadlines. “We catch the JR Line to Otsuki,” Niall announced, glancing up at a map that left Zayn feeling mildly overwhelmed. “And from there, it’s on to Liam’s private shuttle bus. The fun’ll start there.”

Following Niall’s lead like ducklings, Zayn couldn’t help but ask, “You know where to go right? Like, for sure?”

“Relax Princess, been here a hundred times before,” Niall drawled. “And if you’re so concerned, we’re getting the blue line. You all should be able to follow that at least.”

“Did you ever climb to the top of Mount Fuji?” Harry wanted to know, stumbling at the gate when his pass didn’t read right away.

“Once or twice,” Niall said, looping back to assist Harry. “But the mountain’s closed a lot of the year. Climbing is only allowed in a really small window. Too dangerous otherwise.” He jerked a thumb at the models as he looked at Liam. “They’re not actually expected to climb the bloody thing, are they?”

“Oh, no,” Liam hurriedly assured. “Just needed an outdoor location that looked…”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Vibey?”

“Probably,” Liam grumbled.

Laughing, Niall guided them to the side of the train doors, waiting for the locals to disembark before jumping on. Zayn let his eyes wander over all the advertisements at the top of the train carriage, finding the tv screens a little nauseating once the train started moving. Louis and Liam were chattering away excitedly, Harry looking like it was taking all his energy not to fall over, although he’d already bumped into two passengers, apologising profusely each time. Niall’s eyes kept flicking to the scrolling banner above the door, eventually prompting Zayn to tug on the edge of his shirt from where he was sitting.

“You read that?” he asked, nodding at the Japanese text.

Niall looked a little taken aback at being drawn into conversation but cautiously shook his head. “Nope. Can only recognise a few things, like entry, exit, Tokyo, the odd station or city I’ve been to a couple of times.”

It sounded like an end and Zayn hesitated before prodding Niall with his foot. “Speak any languages other than English then? I speak Urdu,” he added when Niall looked suspicious. “My dad’s from Pakistan; taught me and my sisters.”

“Mandarin Chinese and Spanish,” Niall tentatively offered. “Most commonly spoken languages other than English worldwide. Figured they’d be the most useful.”

“I speak French!” Harry declared, looking a little huffy at being left out.

Niall’s brilliant smile came back out, Zayn a little irked that he hadn’t been able to make that happen. “I were useless at that. Tried in school, failed. They tried to teach me Gaelige too; that failed.”

“Gaelige?” Liam repeated. “That’s Irish, right? You went to school in Ireland then?”

Just like that, Niall’s expression shuttered back over. “Obviously. Where else do you think this Irish accent came from? Canada?”

Liam held his hands up to show he meant no offence, Niall nodding curtly before herding them all off the train as it reached their stop. Asking for the exit number, Niall quickly found it before passing the baton over to Liam, letting him find their bus and speak to the people in charge of the shoot.

“Right, simple as this,” Liam said when he was done. “There’s clothes designated for both of you, you can wear them wherever but you must wear all of them. And no, Louis, that’s not a challenge to wear them all at once.”

Louis sulked but jumped inside the bus so he could get an idea as to what colours he was working with. Harry was right on his heels and Zayn soon followed. Outdoor gear wasn’t really their usual gig but it wasn’t like it was something they hadn’t done. Harry looked more thrilled at the idea of getting to see Japan’s countryside, babbling incessantly to Niall once he jumped aboard. Liam was designated as co-driver, a couple of ideal locations already marked on his map, though he made it clear Niall was allowed to jump in any time if something stood out to him. “Them too,” Niall had bargained, pointing to everyone behind him. “It’s their shoot as much as it is mine.” Liam had agreed and off they’d gone. They’d stopped at a couple of places before Louis pointed at a forest to their left.

“There Li’!” he cried, thumping on the window. “That looks good, yeah?”

Liam grunted. “Alright, could be good.”

They all piled out, Harry having to actually nudge Niall, who was immersed heavily in something on his phone. Spewing apologies, Niall bounded out after them, hastily collecting his gear as everyone walked towards the park entrance, Harry running a hand over the entrance sign. Zayn went to enter behind them when he was suddenly yanked backwards, stumbling. Of course Niall was right there, the grip around his arm still painfully tight.

“What the fuck?!” Zayn cried, earning everyone’s attention. “What is your fucking problem?”

It was only then that Zayn realised Niall was borderline grey, face having lost all colour. “You…you can’t go in there.” It almost sounded like a plea.

“Why not?” Zayn asked, Liam already jogging back to his side while Harry and Louis loitered further down the track.

“That’s Aokigahara,” Niall said, as if that was an explanation.

Before Zayn could pry more, Louis’ voice sung out, “Hey lads, look! There’s string tied to this tree!”

“Let’s follow it!” Harry suggested, giddy with excitement.

Niall shook his head. “You won’t like what you find at the end!” he called out, both boys frowning.

Louis tapped a foot impatiently. “What’s at the end?”

“More often than not a dead body.”

Harry leapt away from the string as if scalded, Zayn feeling cold all of a sudden. Liam’s hand was on Niall’s shoulder, reassuring but firm. “What do you mean?”

“This is the Suicide Forest,” Niall explained, shaking Liam off and approaching the entrance sign, tracing the characters with a finger. “People tie the string so that if they change their mind, they can find their way out again. But if it’s still tied…”

“It means they never came back,” Zayn realised, horrified.

Louis swallowed thickly, looking down the path and at the strings he could see. “There…I can see five from here. That’s…that’s…five people. Jesus Christ.”

“And they just let people go in there?” Harry demanded incredulously.

Niall shrugged, turning back for the bus. “I don’t make the rules. I just know…you don’t want to go in there.”

“Have you?” Louis questioned softly as they settled back into their seats.

Niall went rigid, eyes so, so cold. “Have you ever seen a dead body Louis? Have you ever smelt dead flesh? No?” he challenged, drawing his knees up and staring at out the window. “Then fuck off.”

No one knew what to say to that. They couldn’t push for an explanation, that would be wrong on so many levels. Zayn didn’t even know if it would be tactful to change the subject or whether that would be insensitive too. Louis was meekly studying his hands in his lap while Liam and Harry were exchanging worried looks. Looking over his chair, Zayn swore under his breath when he saw the faintest of glistening in Niall’s eyes. He wasn’t crying, doing his very best to hide it, and Zayn was reminded of a quote he’d once read:

“If someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is try to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.”

Taking a risk, Zayn fossicked in his pocket for his ticket stub before pegging it at Niall. Niall yelped and Harry protested in outrage but Zayn merely slapped on a feral grin. “Right, subject change. Because you seemed so fascinated last month with which of us is gay or not, what are you?”

“Zayn,” Harry hissed but Niall actually looked thankful, the tiniest of smiles appearing.

“I’m pan,” he said easily, before scrunching up his nose. “Pansexual, I mean, not an actual pan.”

They all laughed, Liam leaning over from the front to slap Niall across the head playfully. “We knew that, you dick.”

“We also know you’re not attracted to pans,” Louis added, voice dripped with sarcasm. “Still, that’s cool, yeah? I mean, you meet people all over the world and it’s good to know that gender’s not going to get in your way of having a good time.”

Niall cackled, sending Louis’ a flirtatious wink. His blue eyes then rounded on Zayn and, right, he’d started this. “Gay,” he supplied shortly.

Liam and Louis groaned in unison at his clipped answer, Niall’s face screwing up like he just didn’t know what to make of him. Zayn grimaced internally, knowing that nothing he’d presented Niall with even resembled consistent. Harry took it upon himself to keep the mood high, flopping over the back of Zayn’s chair and nuzzling into his neck.

“I’m bi,” he said when Zayn finally got fed up and pushed him away. “Couple of girlfriends in high school, a boyfriend too, and then onto uni where it were, like, a bit of everyone.”

“Bit of everyone can be nice,” Niall mused, smile soft, secret, like he was picturing some of his previous lovers. “Also can be nice to save yourself too.”

“Think it’s all up to you really,” Liam agreed, Niall swivelling around to grin at him.

“Yeah.”

***

Zayn looked up from his bowl of noodles as Harry made a noise of surprise. He was fiddling with his phone but now frowning at it. Zayn gestured for him to expand but Harry currently had his mouth full. With a roll of his eyes, Louis leant over the table, snagging the phone from Harry’s hands and reading whatever was on the screen.

“Huh…Niall wants to know what plane we’re taking…and what class we’re flying.”

Liam rattled off the details, Louis quickly typing them in and pressing send, before he asked, “Did he say why?”

Louis shook his head. “No, I’m asking him now.”

“He didn’t forget anything, did he?” Harry asked worriedly, rifling through his bag like he expected to find Niall’s whole camera or something.

“We all packed yesterday,” Zayn pointed out. “I doubt it.” His gaze flicked to Louis. “What’s he saying?”

“Bastard’s not replying,” Louis replied, jumping a mile high when two hands suddenly landed on his shoulders. Niall was standing right behind him, looking a little flustered but smile luminous. “What the hell Niall?!”

“Wanted to see how high you’d jump,” he teased, nudging Louis over so he could drop down between the stylist and Liam. “Turns out you jump quite high.” With that, he snatched the food Zayn had pushed to the side, a clear indication that he wasn’t intending to eat it. “This is good. You don’t like it Princess Jasmine?”

Zayn’s nose twitched but he didn’t bite. “Why are you here?”

Niall paused. “Um, ‘cause I want to be?”

“No, you’re supposed to be on a plane to Korea. Hasn’t that left already?”

“Good to know you don’t want me around,” Niall sniffed.

“Look who’s taking things the wrong way now,” Zayn shot back. “And for the record, I don’t care what you do.”

Niall looked all too pleased at that, Zayn tensing. “Good. Cause I’m on your flight. What seat are you? Who knows, might even be sitting together.” There was a wolfish grin attached that made Zayn’s hackles rise.

“What the fuck?” he demanded. “Aren’t you fucking off across the globe? It’s what you do. Why are you even coming with us?”

“Never said I was coming specifically with you,” Niall stated simply, ignoring Harry and Liam as they hastily tried to break them up by changing the subject – Liam commenting on their gate’s location while Harry showed off the glass goldfish wind chime he’d bought. “Just happened to be going back to London, same as you.”

“Why?” Zayn spat. “It’s not like you have friends there. And besides,” he added, batting Louis away when he went to pinch him. “You asked which plane, you asked which class. You wanted to come with us.”

“Alright, so maybe I did,” Niall snapped, neck flushing red. “God forbid I want to spend twelve hours with people I actually know.”

Zayn flipped him off but let the argument drop. Fine. If Niall wanted to come, fine. So long as he didn’t prattle on and on the whole flight, they would be fine. Harry was already on board with the prospect, listing off a plethora of things they could do on the trip home because he would be bored. Which was probably true because Louis had a whole new series of designs he wanted to get done in preparation for starting his own fashion line; Liam had paperwork to go through and schedules to manage; and Zayn, well Zayn hated flying and preferred to knock himself out with as many drugs as required to do so.

“You’ll have to let me know how much the flight cost,” Liam said to Niall after nudging Zayn to his feet, their gate now being announced as open. “I’ll reimburse you as soon as we get in the air.”

“Liam, it’s fine,” Niall assured, hoisting his backpack higher. “It was me what chose to change my flight.”

Liam’s forehead furrowed. “Yes, but-”

“Liam,” Niall laughed, slapping a hand across his mouth. “I don’t mind. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have the money. Who else am I gonna spend it on?”

“Dunno, maybe your family?” Zayn offered acidly. “I mean, unless they’re minted, the least you could do would be help them out, rich boy.”

Niall’s hands curled into fists but it was Liam that stepped between them, gently nudging Niall towards Harry and then pulling Zayn up with a hand. “Drop it. Just drop it Zayn.”

“Drop what?”

Liam placed a hand perfectly in the centre of Zayn’s chest, pushing him just hard enough to make him stumble. “You know what. You were being nice. You wanted Niall to be here. Christ Zayn, I honestly thought you were trying. That day to Fuji? Zayn, that was real. That was you.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Come on man, pull it together. You’re better than this.”

Zayn’s head bowed, scuffing at the floor miserably. “Sorry,” he whispered. “You wanted to keep this about work and it wasn’t. Sorry for being a shithead.”

“I’m not going to say it’s fine,” Liam told him, finally stepping away. “Because it’s not. This isn’t on Zayn. This kind of behaviour ruins careers. I’m just saying that I know you’re nicer than this. Please, can you not even try to show Niall that side of you? God knows he’s been patient enough. And,” Liam said, fighting back a smile. “He’s nowhere near as pushy as Cara. You like that.”

Zayn hunkered down even further, peeking out at Liam from under his fringe. “Sorry, again. Can I…” he pointed back towards the airport shops. “Just quickly.”

Liam eyed up the time in apprehension. “Quickly. But be back here, preferably, now.”

Zayn grinned once before tearing off. Purchasing the items he’d seen earlier, Zayn hurried back to the plane, Liam sighing in relief when he saw him. Zayn rolled his eyes because he hadn’t even taken that long but he allowed Liam’s hand to curl around his waist nonetheless, guiding him into the plane’s first class. Harry, Louis, and Niall were already sipping glasses of champagne, reclining in their plush chairs. Louis waved them over with a hand.

“Liam, you’re next to me, Harry and Niall are together and Zayn’s over there with the empty seat because we figured he’d get shitty if anyone disturbed him.”

Liam turned to Zayn. “Okay with you?”

Zayn offered a smile. “Sounds perfect, actually.” He then walked past Niall, dropping two items into his lap – a snapback that read “I am lucky and be happiness” and a packet of pancake flavoured KitKats…which was an atrocity in itself. “Sorry.”

Niall blinked in surprise, tentatively picking up the gifts and laughing, unbidden. “Well, what do you know, you might not be too bad Malik.”

Zayn’s lips quirked into a smile. “Careful. I might get offended.”

Sliding into his chair, Zayn didn’t want to say he was lulled by the sound of Niall’s laughter, but yeah, he was.

***

Chapter Text

Fashion weeks were a nightmare. They were always a nightmare. Liam never failed to work himself into a tizz, pacing back and forth across wherever he ended up, muttering under his breath. Louis would drag along his entire make-up collection, and then some, and then panic because he had too many options and struggled to decide what he wanted. Harry, oddly enough, seemed to get struck with stage-fright and spent every second until he was ushered onto the catwalk looking like he wanted to be ill.

It somehow fell to Zayn to keep them all in control, without fail, every time. He would thrust a piece of paper and a pen into Liam’s hands and find him somewhere to sit. He’d direct Louis to their planned outfits and calmly ask which colours would work. And for Harry? Well, Zayn usually stuffed an iPod in his hands and wished him all the best.

Except Zayn couldn’t do that today. Or any other day this week. Because, for the first time in three years, Zayn and Harry had been signed by different companies for the Paris Fashion Week; or Mode à Paris, as Harry kept insisting it was called. The offers had come separately, each of their names specifically listed and, as Liam had pointed out, they had no grounds really on which to say no. Other than flat out turning down the job – a disaster waiting to happen – they would just have to suck it up and do it.

Seated in his allocated dressing room with the other seven Yves Saint Laurent models, Zayn was absently flipping between the same three apps on his phone. Since Harry was walking first, Louis and Liam were over with him. When he was done, the boys would come to join him before they were dismissed for the day.

And repeat for the next four days.

Pushing a strand of hair off his face, Zayn’s heart soared when a notification appeared on his phone. It was a notification from Harry, which was odd because by this point the boy was usually so stressed out he could barely think, let alone type. And…Instagram? Sure, Harry had it but he tended to use Twitter more. Clicking on the notification, Zayn’s mind blanked.

harrystyles: looks like a photographer managed to end up on the wrong side of the runway!! @niallhoran

Accompanying the caption was a picture of Harry looking as jubilant as Zayn had ever seen him, making silly finger guns at something off camera while Niall laughed from where he was sitting next to him. Niall who had vanished off the face of the earth the second he’d landed in Heathrow, barely taking the time it took to wave at Harry before sprinting over to a Mercedes Jeep that was far too expensive for Niall, the blond yelling out a “hey Kevin!” to the man holding open the door and then jumping into the back, laughter echoing out before the door had even shut.

Looking up as the door to his left opened, Zayn all but thrust his phone at Liam. “Why is Niall here?” he demanded.

“Cause Harry invited me.”

Zayn frowned as Niall rounded the door frame just after Liam, smiling like he knew his very presence was going to annoy Zayn and that that was exactly the reason he’d decided to tag along. Louis tapped Niall on the wrist in reprimand, still clearly stressed and looking like he had enough to worry about in just getting Zayn ready, let alone trying to do so while they were spitting venom at each other. “Zayn, chair, now.”

Letting his eyes slide over Niall icily, Zayn dropped into the chair, hand curling around Louis’ wrist over so delicately. “Alright?”

Louis sank into the touch, letting his forehead drop to rest atop Zayn’s head. “They’re so demanding. So demanding.”

“Breathe babe,” Zayn murmured, reaching a hand up to cup Louis’ cheek. “You’ve got this. You always do.”

Louis pulled away with a wet sniff, pushing Zayn’s hair off his face and starting to style it, hands slick with a ridiculously over-priced moisturising gel. “Some people don’t think so.”

“Doesn’t matter what they think,” Zayn chided. “Harry and I trust you. Wouldn’t have stuck with you so long otherwise. Plus,” he added, smiling at Louis. “Kinda love you.”

Louis’ bottom lip wavered before it twisted up into a bright smile. “Fucking hell, you’re a sap. Love you too Malik, obviously.”

“Can him being on set be a rule?”

Zayn was broken out of his little world by Niall’s voice. Louis tutted at the frown that immediately creased his forehead, vainly attempting to poke it away while Zayn watched Niall in the mirror’s reflection. His camera was out and he was showing something to Liam.

“But look,” he was insisting. “Just look at that. That’s real. That’s genuine.”

Zayn caught Liam’s attention through the mirror, Liam’s lips pursing before leading Niall over, handing Zayn the camera. Louis sucked in a sharp breath and Zayn felt a lump form in his throat. Because, okay, he was looking up at Louis with such warmth and affection in that photo, smile wide and earnest. And it was one of those real smiles; eyes crinkled shut in delight, teeth peeping out. It was a beautiful photo, it was, but-

“It’s private, ‘s what it is,” Zayn said, shoving the camera back into Niall’s hands.

Niall just shook his head. “Right, private. Because only you would consider smiling embarrassing. For what it’s worth,” Niall said, eyebrows knitted together in a stern frown. “I think you look better like this.”

With that, Niall disappeared, announcing that Harry’s walk had to be about done so he’d go back and find him. Zayn watched him go in distaste. What did he know?

***

The rest of the week had passed in a blur. There had been walk after walk, outfit after outfit, colours mixing until Zayn didn’t think he ever wanted to hear another name that resembled something like “blood orange”; red, okay, it was fucking red. Niall had popped in and out, spending most of his time with Harry before disappearing off to explore the streets of Paris. Zayn and Niall’s interactions had been curt at best, explosive at worst. Their worst fight had been over when Niall had pointed out that Zayn’s Yves Saint Laurent clothes were more suited to Harry – who was dressed in Lanvin – and Zayn had replied that he was higher in value and got the better deals.

“Because you’re better,” Niall had stated mockingly.

“Yes!” Zayn had cried but he hadn’t meant it like that. Not that he was better than Harry, not as in as a person, just that he’d been in the industry longer, was a more well-known name. Niall hadn’t taken it as such, of course.

Zayn was only thankful for the fact now that he was back home and currently bundled under the sheets of his own bed. Raja was curled up in the small of his back and Zayn was content with the arrangement. His schedule was clear for the next month, Liam assuring him it was fine as he was already tracking better financially than he had been at this time last year. Who knows? Perhaps he’d even take some time to travel up to Bradford and visit him family. It had been a while since he’d seen his sisters, even longer since he’d seen his mum and dad.

That all went to hell when his phone buzzed though, Zayn groaning when he saw that it was a text from Liam.

PR want to speak with you. Can you be there in an hour?

Zayn thumped out a ‘yes’ before willing himself to move. Raja meowed in displeasure and Zayn knew exactly how he felt, shuffling over to his bathroom and taking a steaming shower before making breakfast, eating it at the breakfast bar and passing little scraps to the cat perched on the stool next to him.

“Think you’re spoilt,” Zayn chuckled, passing over another bite of cheese. He then scratched Raja under the chin before collecting his things. “See you later. Be good and please, no more biting the cleaner; she’s nice.”

Catching a taxi across the city, Zayn jogged through the rain to the entrance of the building their PR team’s offices were located in. Liam was standing just inside and, bless him, he’d thought to bring coffee. Zayn thanked him as they headed towards the lifts, Liam punching in the floor and hopping from foot to foot as Zayn eyed him over the lip of his coffee cup.

“You can say no,” Liam suddenly blurted, somehow managing to startle them both.

Zayn frowned severely. “Say no to what?”

Liam was wringing his hands together nervously. “Look, this is all publicity and it’s entirely up to you, hence why I even allowed this meeting, but if you don’t want to, please just tell me. I promise I can try and work something out.”

The lift doors were opening and Zayn could only watch as Liam strode out, the model stumbling in his haste to catch him. He wanted to hook a hand into Liam’s elbow, pull him up, demand an explanation, but it was too late, they were already there. Liam pushed open the door without so much as a knock, gesturing for Zayn to enter before coming in behind him. On the other side of the table sat their PR team – Richard, Lily, Andrew – and Zayn couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine at their almost hungry expressions.

“Mr. Malik!” Richard boomed, reaching across to shake his hand before pulling it back to form a steeple with his fingers. “How lovely of you to join us. I’m sure by now Mr. Payne has informed you that we have a proposition we’d like to propose to you. A…A way to get you back into the public eye, so to say.”

Zayn frowned. “I just did the Paris Fashion Week. I am in the public eye.”

“And we’d like to keep it that way,” Richard replied, smile a tad too wide. He nodded to Andrew, who slid a file over to him.

Zayn picked it up, flipping through the photos quizzically. He recognised the girls inside, they were that girl band, Little Mix. Quite popular in Britain and worldwide now. He vaguely remembered meeting them in Paris, in amongst every other famous person that had been thrust his way, or whose way he had been thrust into.

“I believe you met them in Paris, yes?” Richard asked, Zayn nodding. “And? What did you think of them?”

“Um…lovely?”

“Lovely enough to, potentially, date one of them?”

Zayn paled, Liam’s hand coming to grip his thigh under the table. “You want me to date them? I’m gay,” he hissed. “You know this.”

“We know,” Lily acquiesced with a nod. “But the general public don’t. You could, theoretically, date someone publically purely in name. Officially you would be labelled as a couple, what was actually happening though…”

“Fake-dating,” Zayn said flatly. “That’s what you’re proposing. Closeting, bearding, a PR stunt. All to, what? Get my name out there?”

“It’s mutually beneficial,” Andrew placated.

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. So their team want publicity. You’re just going along.”

“It’s mutually beneficial,” Richard repeated. “You would accumulate fans from an entirely different demographic audience. You’re unattainable at the moment, cold, aloof, that stereotype that’s so in at the moment.”

Only Liam noticed how Zayn’s gaze dropped at that.

“With a girlfriend, it shows that you have a heart, that you can let people in. Gives them hope.”

“Not unless they’re boys,” Zayn snorted.

“Mr. Malik.” Richard’s voice was firm and Zayn saw out of the corner of his eye the way Liam’s jaw clenched. “You know the risks of exposing your sexuality. We’ve had this discussion many times before. Your labels would drop you faster than you could imagine. Despite what you may think, you’re not irreplaceable. Within a year, you’d be forgotten. You don’t get a ‘come-back’ tour. You’re not famous like that. It only takes a second to fall off the map entirely. You would.”

Zayn shrunk down, breathing an apology to Liam before picking up the file again. He tentatively tapped at the page. “This girl, Perrie? She seemed really funny and, like, nice.”

Richard’s beady eyes gleamed. “Perfect! We liked her too-”

Zayn doubted that.

“-and we’ll get in contact with her team as soon as possible. I think it would be good for you two to be seen together before the Brits.”

Zayn pulled up short, he being the one to reach for Liam’s hand this time. “Wait, Brits?”

Richard gave him a condescending look, as if he was oh so stupid. “Well of course. The Brits are a little over a month away and I definitely want both of you to be seen together there. The articles of you and Harry meeting the girls in Paris are already online but you need to be seen together before you appear on the red carpet together. Adds plausibility.”

Zayn’s head was swimming even as a contract was pushed over the table, Andrew having filled in the last little details throughout their discussion. “How long?” Zayn managed, letting Liam read over his shoulder. “How long do we have to…you know, go out?”

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Richard said, grimacing in displeasure, showing that he’d pushed for a minimum time limit – probably an extensive one if Zayn knew Richard. Which he did. “At the request of their team, we’ll meet for appraisal again in two months. From there, you and Perrie will have had time to establish what you both want out of this relationship.”

Zayn’s stomach dropped. Relationship. Shit.

“Zayn,” Liam whispered into his ear even as he picked up the pen. “You know what I said. I meant it. You don’t-”

“It’s fine Li’,” Zayn lied, taking a deep breath before asking one more time. “Two months?”

“Two months.”

“Okay.”

He signed the paper.

Ten minutes later, in Liam’s car, Zayn broke down. By the time he reached his flat, there were no more tears to fall and Zayn wished that as he fell into his bed and closed his eyes, he simply wouldn’t wake up.

***

It wasn’t so bad. Really, it wasn’t.

At least, that’s what Zayn kept telling himself. And it was true, really. He’d been out with Perrie twice now, once for coffee and once for a “romantic” dinner at some upmarket restaurant. He thought the first date had gone smashingly well when Perrie had opened with, “you’re gay, right? So I don’t have to worry about this turning serious?” Which begged the question as to why she’d even agreed in the first place but then who was Zayn to talk? Their motives were, undoubtedly, extremely similar. Mutually beneficial, as it were.

But she was lovely; funny and quirky and they were both made each other laugh easily. They would talk about places they’d been, sights they’d seen, horror stories from parties taken too far. Private lives were quickly established as off limits. What happened there was not the other’s business, provided they didn’t do anything stupid – like kiss someone else atop the Eiffel Tower or something equally absurd. They’d then spent the next hour concocting the most outrageous scenarios they could think of, laughing so loudly they’d been scolded by the elderly couple in the booth behind.

The dinner had been a little more awkward, Zayn mused as he slipped down the corridors towards their latest set – it was all hands back on deck for this one. Because how did one fake a romantic dinner with someone they barely even knew and had no intentions of ever getting close to? – hell, Zayn hadn’t even decided whether he liked Perrie or not yet. Acquaintances? Maybe. Friends? No. But they’d fumbled through it, Zayn paying and smiling at their waiter so charmingly, dropping it the second he left. The Brits were next and Zayn…Okay, yes, he was freaking out about that. God, he was about to go public. Go public with the fakest aspect of his entire life. Jesus.

“Hey Zayner!”

Zayn’s head snapped up at Louis’ voice, scratching at his cheek sheepishly when he realised he’d walked straight past their studio without realising. “Hey Lou’!”

“Get in here!” Louis called, waving a hand impatiently. “And be prepared, because these fuckers were very specific and yes, you’re going to get slathered in eye make-up!”

“W-what?” Zayn protested, reaching Louis’ side and pouting at him. “But I hate that.”

Louis shrugged. “Not our choice. If it’s any consolation, Niall’s just as impressed.”

Unsurprisingly, that didn’t help. “What’s he got to complain about?”

Louis tutted at him before leading Zayn into the studio, Zayn’s eyebrows rising. Billboard had spared no expense. They’d made an entire industrial set, complete with galvanised metal walkways, neon signs, an old Mustang parked in the corner. The room was plunged into a near inky darkness, dark blues and purples being the only lighting used.

Zayn whistled. “They went all out, didn’t they?”

“Trying to start with a bang,” Liam explained, looking almost harried. Niall was swearing somewhere out of sight as he tripped over something hidden in the darkness. Liam cringed. “He is not happy. Anyway,” Liam said, going for cheerful. “Billboard wants to start featuring all aspects of entertainment, not just music. You and Harry seemed like a good place to start; you’ll be interviewed by their people tomorrow.”

Zayn suddenly got a bad feeling in his stomach. “Will they…wanna know about our private lives?” The way Liam’s eyes instantly dropped to the floor was answer enough. “Fuck.”

“Oi Malik!” Louis crowed from where he was finishing up impossibly symmetric winged-eye liner on Harry. “You can tell ‘em all about your new girlfriend!” He and Harry exchanged laughs. “Like, what even is that bullshit?”

Zayn very much wished he hadn’t told Liam to keep it a secret as he now had to open his mouth and admit, “She is.”

Louis’ hand slamming into Harry’s chest was the only reason the younger model didn’t fly out of his chair, ruining his make-up. Louis quickly put everything down, eyes narrowing. “You fucking what?”

“Perrie and I,” Zayn mumbled, staring at his feet. “We’re, um…”

“No…” Harry breathed.

Louis’ foot slammed into the cabinet behind him. “Shit! They…are they fucking closeting you?!”

“It’s publicity, that’s all it is,” Zayn offered weakly.

“How long?” Harry demanded, slowly rising from his chair which only served to make him more intimidating. “How long has this been going on? And how long will it?”

Zayn worried his bottom lip until Louis’ cleared his throat impatiently. “The answer’s a month. For both.”

Harry’s eyebrows drew together. “You’ve been “together” a month?”

“…I guess?”

“And you didn’t tell us!” Louis screamed.

“There was nothing to tell!” Zayn cried.

“’Course not. ‘Cause it’s all fake. ‘Cause you’re ashamed.”

Zayn had whirled around and all but slammed his chest into Niall’s before even realising it. “You, shut the fuck up. You don’t have anything to do with this. I couldn’t give a fuck what you think.”

“Clearly don’t give a fuck what they think, or feel, either,” Niall replied shortly, pointing at Louis and Harry. “Because they look fucking thrilled to have been left out of the loop. Was this “private” too?”

“It’s none of your business,” Zayn growled.

“Actually,” Niall said as Zayn made to stalk away. “It is. ‘Cause you’re my client and I’m allowed to speak up if I think my client’s needs are being jeopardised.”

“My needs are not being “jeopardised”,” Zayn snapped, folding his arms defensively.

Niall’s eyebrows shot up. “Right. Because you look so happy right now. So content. Your PR manager certainly has your best interests at heart. I can see that. You know, the way he’s going out of his way to make you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” Zayn shouted, but fuck, it was. “I’m doing this because I want to!”

“You want to stay in the closet?!” Niall shook his head. “You want to hide who you are? To lie? Christ, is any part of your life even real?”

Zayn wanted to argue back, kick and scream until he was blue in the face, but his body had other plans, eyes starting to well with tears. Liam pushed him into Louis’ arms before anyone noticed, sending Harry off towards the set and then coming to stand between Zayn and Niall.

“I’m sorry Niall,” Liam said curtly. “But that is going too far. I’m not quite sure you understand the pressure these young men are under. They have to do this. They don’t have a choice. Their industry doesn’t allow them to be as out as, say, yours. You have a choice. They do not. And that,” he concluded firmly. “Is no reflection of Zayn or Harry’s characters.”

“Who told you that Liam?” Niall demanded, voice still full of fire. “Who told you they can’t come out? This isn’t 2005 anymore! Gay marriage is legal in more countries every single day. LGBT rights are a thing that people are fighting for. You could be at the forefront!”

Liam shook his head. “If they came out, their labels would drop them.”

“No they wouldn’t!” Niall cried. “Or at least, you don’t know that for sure!”

“There are people above me who study the marke-”

“Oh, the people at the top,” Niall scoffed. “’Cause they know so much. They don’t even look into this shit Liam. They just want to keep everything the way it is. The world is changing. The market is changing! Jaden Smith is modelling women’s clothes for God’s sake!”

“Harry won’t shut up about that,” Louis put in quietly, looking uncertain for once. “He…Said it were inspirational.”

Niall gestured at Louis. “See! And that…that wasn’t a no-name label, was it?”

Louis shook his head. “Louis Vuitton.”

“Liam,” Niall pleaded, “They would take models who had come out. They’d have to. On what grounds could they say no?” He took Liam’s hands in his. “They could do this. Harry and Zayn…Liam, they don’t have to hide. Please.”

“That’s not your call.”

Zayn’s voice was razor sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. Niall tensed but Zayn removed himself from Louis’ arms, once again composed.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me and my career.”

“Fine,” Niall sniffed, “Let’s just pretend for once that not everything in the world is about you Zayn. What about Harry?”

“Huh?” Harry called, jarred out from his absent scrolling at the sound of his name. At Niall’s dismissive wave, he went back to his phone, tuning them out once more.

“What about him?” Louis asked, clearly ready to defend him.

“This,” Niall explained, gently poking at Louis’ tensed shoulders. “Louis, anyone with half a brain can see you’re gone for him.” Louis squeaked out a protest but even Zayn couldn’t smother a chuckle. “I just…You deserve a chance with him. You two, you’d be great together.”

Louis laughed in disbelief. “Harry would never like me. Why would he?”

Niall’s face softened, pulling Louis into a tight embrace. “Tomlinson, you’re worth loving. Any man would be lucky to have you. And,” he said, squeezing Louis tightly. “I honestly think Harry likes you. He lets you get away with too much for someone who doesn’t.”

“They could still date,” Liam said quietly as Niall pulled away, catching his attention. “They just wouldn’t…”

“Be able to do it in public,” Niall stated flatly.

Liam shrugged. “Well, if they were happy in private what would it matter?”

Niall sighed heavily. “Because no one can hold onto a secret forever.”

“Because you slip up?” Louis guessed.

Niall shook his head. “Because it kills you.”

With that cryptic answer, Niall found his camera and then carefully picked his way over to where Harry was. As those two got to work, Zayn allowed Louis to usher him into his chair. Finding the right eye-liner, Louis started to get to work. “You’re okay though?” he asked under his breath, for Zayn’s ears only. “Properly okay?”

“I’m…alright.”

Louis hummed in displeasure, clucking in displeasure when he missed up a line. “I know what an alright from you means Zayn and if it ever gets too much, please, please, just tell us. Promise me you’ll do that much?”

Letting his eyes find Louis’, Zayn gave a single nod. “I promise.”

***

Niall swore as he struggled to find just the right place to stand. Sure, navigating a jumble of ragged and uneven surfaces was almost second nature to him these days but he generally climbed mountains and cliffs when he could see. As in, daytime, sunlight, a fucking spotlight if it came to that. What he was not used to was climbing poorly stacked wooden crates in near darkness just because someone wanted an “edgy” photo. Wasn’t “vibey” in?

Finally getting his feet set just so, Niall pointed his camera down towards where Harry was standing, half in alcove, a length of chain wrapped around his arm. Hey, it worked for those folks that were into bondage. That 50 Shades shit was still in, wasn’t it?

Taking a couple of shots, Niall’s lips pursed as he flipped back through them. The angle wasn’t quite right. Huffing, Niall took one step back before dropping into a crouch. Shooting Harry a thumbs up to let him know he was back in position, Harry’s neutral face returned, Niall taking the shots. He nodded to himself in satisfaction this time, getting to his feet and grinning, sure that Harry could see his teeth gleam through the darkness.

“Proper model you are mate. Looking good.”

Harry beamed. “Think someone should, like, pay me to do this.”

“Pfft, I wouldn’t go that far,” Niall teased, shuffling closer. “I mean, you’re not that gre-”

Niall never got to finish his sentence, the boxes stacked under his feet finally showing how truly haphazardly they’d been set up by collapsing all too suddenly. Harry cried out, tearing towards the edge of the mock catwalk even as Niall was starting to fall. Niall quickly judged up the distance, gathering his energy before jumping across to where Harry was. His chest connected first, the air being forced out of his lungs as he slammed into the railing. Harry’s hands were grabbing his shoulders even as Niall’s feet were finding purchase. Once sure he wasn’t going to fall, Niall let his head fall onto Harry’s chest, panting heavily. “Jesus Christ.”

“Liam!” Harry bellowed, voice furious.

“Trust me, I’m already fucking onto this!” Liam yelled back, just as angry and phone halfway to his ear.

“Need an ambulance?” Louis hollered, voice suggesting he was directly below Niall, as if he’d been intending to catch him had he fallen.

“Nah, we’re all good, I think,” Harry answered, coaxing Niall’s head up. “You okay?”

Niall nodded, shakily climbing over the railing with Harry’s help. Feet back on solid ground, Niall let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Right, well, that was a laugh, wasn’t it?”

“Terrifying more like,” Harry corrected, wrapping him up in a hug. “That was dangerous.”

“I’m fine,” Niall promised, slipping away and assessing himself for injuries. His hands came up short when they bumped into his camera though. No, no, no! Niall’s grip fumbled as he wrenched the device over his head. Yes, his chest had hit the railing first and the camera had been hanging in the centre of his chest but… “No,” he whimpered, hands shaking as they traced the now shattered camera. “No…”

“Oh.” Harry gasped, eyes widening at the broken camera. “Shit, that…that’s not good, is it?”

Doing his best to withhold a sob, Niall sank to his knees, clutching the device in denial. “I didn’t…I didn’t…Fuck, I…”

“Niall,” Harry murmured worriedly. “Niall, ‘s alright. We can, like, fix it.”

A sob escaped against his will, Niall shaking his head futilely, Harry scrambling to wrap his arms around him. Harry’s long fingers carded through his hair, Niall sinking into the touch as he cried. “Can’t fix it,” he choked out. “I…Can already tell that. It’s too fucked. I can’t…can’t fix it. I broke it. Harry,” he whined, clutching at his shirt desperately. “I broke it.”

Harry was so far out of his depth, could only draw Niall closer in a vain attempt to comfort him. “I’m sorry. I’m sure though that Liam can arrange to have it replaced? We can get you another one.”

“A better one,” Louis chimed, Niall flinching because he had no idea that Louis and Zayn were still listening in. Louis’ words angered him though, the catalyst required to get him moving once again.

“Of course,” he chuckled wetly, swiping at his eyes. “You’ll just get me a better one. That makes it all better, doesn’t it? The bigger, shinier, more expensive one.”

“Think Louis’ just trying to help,” Zayn pointed out cautiously, like he knew it needed to be said but not sure if he should really be the one to say it.

It was true though, Niall taking a deep breath and forcing his fists to unclench. “I…You’re right. Sorry Louis. Sorry Harry. You’re helping, I get that. Sorry.”

Harry gently pulled him back into his arms. “You don’t have to be sorry. That camera clearly means a lot to you.” He gave Niall a weak smile. “I’m sure it’s been around the world many times.”

“We can arrange a funeral for it?” Louis suggested. “Like, with an actual plot and whatever?”

Niall let out something between a laugh and a sob because, fuck. “Thanks,” he managed to gasp out before backing away, hands out. “I just…Look, I have no camera so we can’t finish today. Sorry, but I’m cutting out early.”

With that, Niall shimmied down the ladder Harry had used to get up, stuffing his now broken camera into his bag hurriedly and all but running for the door, ignoring the worried calls behind him. He passed Liam, who made an aborted sound and went to grab him, but Niall dodged the grip, determined to make it to the exit. He was just about there when a large pair of arms wrapped around him. Just from their warmth alone, Niall knew who it was, reluctantly leaning back into the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Harry’s voice was right next to his ear. “Know you’re gonna say this wasn’t our fault, but I was the one what, like, urged Liam to hire you so you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. If you weren’t here, you wouldn’t have fallen and wouldn’t have broken your camera. I’m sorry Niall. I…I can see how much it meant to you.”

“Harry,” Niall chuckled tiredly, “That…None of this is your fault. I was probably bound to break it eventually. Drop it off a cliff or some shite.”

“But you didn’t,” Harry protested. “You kept it safe. Our shitty set ruined it.”

Weaselling his way out of Harry’s arms, Niall eyed him up before his face was overcome by a smile. “You’re something else Harry Styles. I think the world needs more people like you.”

“Think it needs more people like you,” Harry countered, returning his smile.

Hesitating, Niall slowly reached out to trace Harry’s smile, Harry raising an eyebrow quizzically but keeping the expression in place. “I…like it when you smile,” Niall admitted, hand dropping away. “And I wanna keep you smiling…Which is why I’m gonna tell you: Louis likes you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, arms coming to cross his chest self-consciously. “What? No he doesn’t.”

“He does.”

“No…” Harry repeated bashfully. “I mean, why would he?”

Niall groaned, sending his eyes skyward. “God Harry, are you blind? That man is quite literally throwing himself into your lap. How have you not noticed? And,” he reached up to slap Harry across the back of the head. “Of course he likes you! You’re wonderful!”

Harry’s cheeks turned a gorgeous shade of pink. “Do you…Do you really think that?”

“That you’re wonderful or that Louis likes you?”

“Um…both?” Harry asked, nose scrunching up.

Niall laughed, giving him a thumbs up. “Answer’s yes, to both.”

***

Having already buzzed the intercom, the flat door was open by the time Niall reached the top of the stairs. Quickly crossing the hallway, Niall slammed the door shut, dumping his gear down before throwing himself onto the sofa next to him. His shoulders heaved as he cried, heart breaking in his chest. A hand was placed on his shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly. “There, there.”

“I broke it,” Niall sobbed, not even bothering to raise his head. “My camera…It…Mum and Dad…”

Niall couldn’t finish, tears intensifying as he sobbed into his hands. Those hands never stopped their ministrations, comforting and grounding him all at the same time. “I know. It’s a bitch Ni’. I’m so sorry mate.”

“’S not your fault,” Niall said, fighting for control, pushing the tears down.

“Yeah, true, but you’re still miserable. Hate that. So um, to like, make you feel better…You know how the Brit awards are in a week?”

Niall raised his head in confusion, slowly nodding.

“Well, did you wanna come with me? It’ll be a fucking riot, yeah?”

Niall found himself slowly grinning. “Yeah, alright then.”

***

Chapter Text

“Five minutes and then you get your arse back in here.”

Those had been Louis’ instructions the second Zayn had entered Louis’ flat. Why Louis seemed to think he’d need five minutes after only just arriving was beyond him but hey, Zayn wasn’t going to pass up the chance to get in a last minute smoke. He was a mere hour away from being carted off to the Brits and Louis wanted to get him red carpet ready, demanding Zayn come to his flat for hair and make-up. Liam had also arranged to be there to go over last minute things. And since everyone else was going to be there, naturally Harry had to be as well.

Niall had again dropped off the face of the earth, their little posse only seeing him once since the whole camera incident. And even then he had only come back to finish the shoot, grudgingly accepting the new camera and barely speaking the entire time he’d been there. He’d offered them smiles upon leaving though and, according to Harry, was trekking his way across the UK, sticking close for a change.

Hearing the balcony door open behind him, Zayn glanced over his shoulder, watching Harry fold himself into the outdoor recliner, arms tucked under a poncho and wedged heels peeping out from where his feet were tucked under his thighs.

Zayn couldn’t help but pout. “You’re tall enough already mate. Don’t need to rub it in my face.”

Harry laughed, tracing the heel with a finger. “Just like wearing them I suppose.”

Zayn smiled around his cigarette. “Look good on you. Do what you want, yeah Haz?”

Harry paused, a little cautious when he next met Zayn’s gaze, Zayn hating the sinking feeling that gave him in return. “So, like…if I were to tell you that I want to discuss with Liam moving more towards modelling genderfluid clothing…”

Zayn hacked, dropping his light to the ground and stubbing it out. “You mean modelling men and women’s clothing?”

“Meant modelling whatever I want,” Harry corrected almost sternly, which…huh.  “Regardless of the gender.” He went back to toying with his shoe. “I…Niall and I were looking a week or so ago, like at high-end fashion designers? And Niall found this guy, Zuhair Murad, and Zayn, he does the most amazing clothes. I’d like to model them. Even if…even if they’re technically women’s clothing.”

Zayn ground his teeth. “You and Niall?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t switch off just because you heard Niall’s name. Give me your honest opinion.”

“My honest opinion involves Niall,” Zayn countered, arms coming to cross his chest stiffly. “Because sorry Harry, but you’ve never mentioned this until Niall came along and suddenly, what, you want to be the new face of androgynous fashion?!”

“What it be so bad if I was?” Harry asked sharply. “And, okay, maybe Niall has had something to do with it but only because he’s outside the industry Zayn. He sees the world. We don’t. You and I both know we live in a bubble. We have friends, sure, but let’s be honest, how often do we see people outside of the ones currently in this flat?”

Zayn remained stubbornly silent.

“Louis and Liam live in the same world we do; they see what we see. It’s like…living in a country town and thinking that that’s all there is to the world. You forget there’s more to it. Zayn, there’s an entire world out there and we don’t see it because of how closed off our lives are. Niall lives out there.”

“Niall lives in a fantasy world,” Zayn interrupted coldly, eyes stern. “Niall is the boy who never grew up. He flies around the world and parties like an eternal frat boy. He knows nothing about responsibility. He has no real job, no house, nothing. He doesn’t even own a spare change of clothes half the time. His world is no more real than ours!”

“It isn’t a nine-to-five job,” Harry conceded. “But either way, Niall knows more than us. He always will because he sees so much. And say what you will, but he’s freer than we will ever be. He doesn’t hide Zayn.”

‘Yes he does’, Zayn thought darkly. ‘He just hides behind a smile.’ Because it was so obvious to Zayn, so obvious that Niall had so much swept under the rug that it was practically a mountain.

“And Niall…” A tiny smile crept over Harry’s face, Zayn coming to sit on the edge of his chair unbidden, hand resting on Harry’s knee. “He’s really only looking out for us. Wants us to be happy. Like with me and Lou’, yeah?”

Zayn stiffened but he smacked Harry away when he tried to comfort him, pasting on a smile instead because yes, Louis and Harry. That was apparently a thing now. All thanks to fucking Niall. How wonderful that they got to awkwardly flirt and touch each other whenever they wanted to now. How wonderful that Louis could curl up in Harry’s lap or that Harry could let Louis’ lips brush against his skin every time he passed because Louis was a goddamn sap like that.

“Zee…”

“Don’t.” Zayn held up a hand. “I’m happy for you, okay? Really, I am.”

“We didn’t do it to upset you,” Harry insisted, clutching Zayn’s hands in his like he needed him to believe him. Never mind that Zayn already did. “We’re not mocking you. It’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

“Poor timing,” Zayn finished, squeezing Harry’s hands in return. “I know Haz. You aren’t like that, neither of you. And between you and me, you two look fucking great together.”

Harry lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really? Cause yeah, I mean, I know I’m alright looking and Lou”s in no way unattractive so…makes sense right?”

Zayn laughed, hugging Harry’s knees playfully. “Very much so. You like him though, right? Like, absolutely? For sure?” Because Zayn had known Louis first and he would protect his best mate first and foremost no matter what.

“Of course.”

“Then we’re all good.”

As Zayn went to stand, Harry tugged him back with a pout. “Hey,” he whined. “Where’s my ‘are you sure Louis likes you’?”

Zayn snorted, rolling his eyes. “Please. I’ve been watching Louis make a fool of himself for months trying to get your attention. He more than likes you, trust me.”

“You knew?” Harry huffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was funnier watching him flirt with all the grace of a teenager,” Zayn replied, grin feral.

Harry’s face turned chastising but before they could say more, the door behind them opened, Louis looking quite harried. “Excuse me Malik, but in what world does this look like five minutes?”

Zayn held his hands up. “Do I look like I have my phone on me?”

Louis’ eyes narrowed. “Inside.” As Zayn meekly passed him, Louis hip-checked him before leaning down to kiss Harry quickly. “Try not to hold up the hired help Curly. Kinda need him.”

Harry’s giggles followed Zayn all the way inside and if he was scowling when Liam looked up at him over his phone, so be it.

***

Zayn swallowed thickly as the car reached the start of the red carpet. For someone who spent their entire life surrounded by cameras, Zayn felt oddly nauseated at all the flashes going off in front of him. He tugged at his cufflinks nervously, only tensing further when a hand slid into his.

“It’s only a couple of metres yeah?”

Zayn gave Perrie the best smile he could, hoping it was passable. “Yeah. ‘S not far.”

She nodded. “And once we get inside you can do whatever. Your phone becomes your best friend, trust me.”

Zayn laughed. “Alright, taking your word for that.” Seeing the signal from their driver, Zayn tightened his grip on Perrie’s hand, other hand reaching for the door. “You ready?”

She raised an eyebrow. “More ready than you.”

Poking his tongue out, Zayn opened the door. Keeping his grip, he helped Perrie climb out of the car, hooking their arms together as they began to walk. The instructions were easy: walk the length together, let Perrie pose for photos with the rest of her band once they reached the end, and then walk her inside. Everything after that was completely up to them. Yes, Zayn would be seated at their table but the tables sat ten so there would at least be five people he could potentially talk to.

He could hear their names being shouted, smiling brightly while secretly grinding his teeth together, wishing it was all over. It felt as though a weight was lifted from his chest when Perrie found her girl friends, smothering them all in hugs and then posing alongside side them. She then beckoned Zayn back over, both of them starting when the photographer asked them to wait, if he could photograph them together. They exchanged wide eyed looks but Zayn quickly, if not awkwardly, slipped his arm around Perrie’s waist, hand barely touching.

“Of course,” he said, all smiles.

“Sorry,” Perrie muttered as they finally managed to escape. “They weren’t supposed to do that.”

“They’re paps,” Zayn grumped. “They do what they want.”

“That they certainly do,” Perrie said, joining her band mates just in time to hear the interviewer say,

“Oh, and here come the new, hot couple. Perrie, why don’t you bring your man in?”

Zayn tensed but shuffled into frame, hand finding Perrie’s and all but latching on. She gripped back reassuringly, though his skin crawled when she began to thumb the back of his hand.

“So,” the interview began grandly, eyes shining like she’d just managed to snatch the biggest scoop of the night which was ridiculous, Zayn thought. They weren’t even that famous. Or at least, he wasn’t. “If this isn’t the most gorgeous couple I’ve ever seen, then who is? What’s it like then, Zayn, dating a world famous singer?”

“Uh…it’s, like, pretty amazing,” Zayn said, brain hastily trying to think of the answers he’d given Billboard last week – the ones oh so carefully worded by Liam. “Obviously, Perrie’s a wonderful woman. I’m very lucky.”

“As is she, I’m sure,” the woman said with a wink that really only made him feel sick. “Not everyone gets to date a super model. Must have been hard to turn your head.”

“Think that just makes him sound really shallow.” Zayn’s head whipped over to Jesy, swearing he fell in love with her in that moment. “He’s not, like, a prize-hunter for women. There’s more to him than looks.”

The interviewer gave Jesy a snide look before returning her attention to Perrie. “And is he? Give us the goss’. Is he a real softie inside? No one really knows what this bad boy is like.”

Perrie squirmed uncomfortably. “I’ve only been out with him a couple of times so far but he’s a proper gentleman.” She sent Zayn a genuine smile. “There’s a lot more to him than you see in magazines.”

Zayn couldn’t help but smile back, somewhat touched. Of course, the bloody interviewer had to ruin it with, “Aww, isn’t that adorable? So, before we let you go, how about a kiss for good luck? Wish your girl well?”

Fired. Zayn was going to have Liam get her fired. Within the hour. Before the awards show was over.

He wrapped an arm around Perrie’s shoulders with a glare. “Think that’s between us, if you don’t mind.” With that, he stormed off, giving Perrie no choice but to follow. Entering the doors, he ducked to the side, burying his face in his hands. “Sorry. Fuck! I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say that,” Perrie cooed, prying his hands away, breath catching at the sight of his tears. “Oh my god, you’re crying. Zayn, don’t cry. I know this isn’t ideal but it’s not so horrible, is it?”

He wanted to say yes but he couldn’t, couldn’t break this poor woman’s heart because he’d meant what he said: she was lovely. Just not for him. “No, it’s not so bad,” he managed. “Think…think I’m more stressed. Don’t like being taken by surprise, you know? Hate being jumped like that.”

Perrie patted his hand consolingly. “Then we’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” She then had to raise her voice over whatever commotion was suddenly going on outside. “We’ll talk to our people, set some more firm boundaries.”

Zayn nodded, pulling out his phone and getting ready to text Liam what Perrie had just said when they were surrounded by the rest of Little Mix, each girls’ eyes wide. “Did you hear?” Jade asked, jittering. “Like, have you seen?”

“Seen what?” Perrie asked in turn, frowning.

“Ed Sheeran’s just rocked up,” Leigh-Anne explained, which Zayn didn’t find too surprising until Jesy tacked on,

“With a bloke.”

“What?!” Perrie screeched, vainly trying to look out back towards the red carpet. “He came with a bloke? Is he even…” she gestured loosely in Zayn’s direction. “You know?”

“Didn’t think so!” Jade hissed, bouncing on her toes.

Zayn was in a state of shock, no idea what to think because it couldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t just rock up to an event with a partner of the same gender. Well, not like that. Yes, he had done it with Liam and Harry had done it with Louis but everyone had known it was because of work. No one had ever assumed it was anything romantic. Usually because Zayn and Harry always sent out tweets beforehand like,

ZaynMalik: taking @real_liam_payne to London Fashion Week because who else will let me ramble about leather jackets for hours?

or

Harry_Styles: watch out, @lwtomlinson has demanded to be my plus one because my hair and smoke machines don’t mix apparently :)

But surely no one, no one, could rock up to something as big as the Brit Awards without coming out beforehand. That wasn’t a thing. Surely it wasn’t. Zayn was snapped out of his reverie as the girls quickly zipped back to his side, doing their very best to make it look like they weren’t side-eyeing the door when side-eyeing the door was exactly what they were doing. That alone made it pretty clear to Zayn just who was about to walk in.

And they did. And Zayn’s jaw dropped.

Niall fucking Horan.

Jesus H Christ.

Did this boy make it his sole purpose to undermine every aspect of Zayn’s life? Because he’d known, he’d known, that Zayn had had to closet himself. Known that Zayn was coming to this event against his will. Known he’d had to come with a beard as well, all for the sake of image.

And yet, still, there was Niall, prancing alongside Ed Sheeran of all people as though he belonged there.

The couple – God, Zayn hated how that sounded in his head – passed them without so much as a glance. Ed was, as expected, immaculately dressed in a black suit with matching waistcoat, hair that little bit wild like it always was but made Louis want to clamber through whatever screen he was watching from and stamp it down with gel. But Niall…Zayn’s breath left in a rush. Niall had clearly been shopping too because that navy blue, slim-fit, perfectly tailored suit hadn’t been in his rucksack when they’d first met. And, fuck. Were those horn-rimmed glasses? Since when did Niall wear those?!

More importantly, why the ever loving fuck did Zayn find that attractive?

Because Niall Horan was many things but attractive was not one of them. Not by a long shot. Never in a million years.

The evening then went from bad to worse as somehow Ed was directed towards their group. Zayn saw the instant Niall spotted him, watched the Irishman tense, shifting ever more slightly into Ed’s side. Ed frowned down at him, murmuring something but Niall shook his head, reply hidden as he angled his head away. Zayn swore Ed’s eyes flicked in his direction but it had to be a milli-second if that. Ed shook hands with each member of Little Mix, as well as Zayn, introduced Niall to them, and then announced he was going to find the bar. Niall cheered and latched onto his arm, the pair bellowing out laughs as they disappeared. Just before they vanished from sight though, Niall shot once last look over his shoulder. Zayn returned it coldly.

This was personal. This was war.

***

Ed Sheeran Could Be the Best Friend in the World

Rumours ran wild after Ed Sheeran arrived at the Brit Awards with an unusual date. World famous musician arrived accompanied by Instagram photographer, Niall Horan. The pair looked perfect in their suits, all smiles as they walked the red carpet. The pair were also seen leaving the venue together, both proudly holding up the two Brit Award trophies Ed had managed to secure, adding to his already vast collection.

But don’t worry people, the “Thinking Out Loud” singer assures us he is still very much on the market. When asked about his mysterious date, Ed stated “my mate was going through a rough patch, thought he could do with a fun time.” Aww. Don’t we all wish we had best friends who could take us to award ceremonies filled with celebrity A-listers when we were feeling down?

Speculation rumours are still floating around though, so watch this space!

SugarScape – online

Zayn closed out of the article with thinly veiled anger. Right, so Niall had gone out of his way to turn up with Ed Sheeran at the Brit Awards, make a mockery of Zayn, and then casually take it all back? No fucks given as to Ed’s reputation, of course, or how this little stunt would affect his career. As the article had clearly said, rumours will still running riot. Who knew how much damage Niall’s little dig had caused him? And all that bullshit about a rough patch? Please, what did Niall have to be down about? The guy had everything.

Needless to say, Zayn was delaying his inevitable encounter with said photographer by lingering in the bathroom. He knew there was only so long he could stay tucked up on the vanity counter before someone came looking but he was going to take every second of it. And god forbid Liam, or whoever came, would have to physically drag him down because he did not want to deal with this today. Didn’t want to deal with it ever if he was being honest.

The door was pushed open and Zayn groaned, eyes closing as his head thudded back against the tiles. “No. You can’t make me.”

Whoever entered the bathroom scoffed. “Don’t even want to if we’re being honest here.”

Zayn’s eyes snapped open, hastily looking to his right. “Niall.”

“Yes, me,” Niall answered breezily, moving to the urinals and unzipping his pants. “Lou”s going mad looking for you, by the way. Think he’s searched every area you’re allowed to smoke, as well as some you’re not.”

“He’ll find me eventually.”

“Or you could, I don’t know, mature up and go find him,” Niall drawled, finishing up and moving to the sinks. “I mean, it’s not like you’re meant to be working or anything.”

Zayn merely raised an eyebrow. “Could say the same about you.”

Niall flicked water at him, making him shriek. “Not me that has to sit in a chair for half an hour, is it? All I got to do is point and shoot.”

Zayn allowed himself a smug smile. “Good to know you’re finally recognising what your job really is.”

Niall looked taken aback, switching off the tap and giving Zayn is full attention. “Okay, out of line. Seriously Zayn, what is your problem with me?”

“What isn’t my problem with you?” Zayn shot back. “Everything was fine around here until you waltzed in. Ever heard the expression ‘don’t rock the boat’?”

Niall frowned for a long, long moment. “Is this seriously all over the fact that I’ve befriended your friends without your permission and wormed my little Irish way into their hearts? Are you throwing an honest to God tantrum because you have to share?”

Zayn flushed darkly. “It’s not about that.”

“Really? ‘Cause that’s exactly what it looks like to me. You don’t like that I took even a second of their attention away from you.” Niall jutted his chin out. “You’re scared because you’re not the centre of their world.”

“I never have been,” Zayn growled, jumping down and squaring off against the blond. “We’re all adults here. We don’t need to have the whole “we’re all best friends at modelling school” talk.”

Niall looked decidedly unimpressed. “Really? Because it sounds like that’s what we need to do. You didn’t like me from the second I walked in the door. Because I was different. And you hate different. You-” his finger jabbed into Zayn’s sternum, “-live in black and white. And you love it.”

“I don’t hate different.”

“Yeah, you do. ‘s why you pretend to be straight.”

Zayn went rigid, eyes narrowing. “Watch it Horan.”

Niall eyed him up coolly. “I’m not scared of you. You’re not intimidating, not to me. Your fancy glares and pristine looks don’t scare me Zayn. Because I know it’s really you what’s scared. Too scared to not fit in perfectly. Have to play by the rules so that your own perfect palace never falls down. Can’t be brave like Harry and try to be yourself. No, you’re happy to hide.”

“That’s not true,” Zayn ground out, hands balling into fists.

“Sorry Zayn, but it really is. Hell, I’m almost convinced now that you asked to be closeted.”

Zayn grabbed Niall by the collar and slammed him into the bathroom wall, oddly satisfied when his blue eyes widened in shock. “I never asked for this! This was the last thing I wanted!”

“Then why did you agree?” Niall asked, voice so oddly quiet it made Zayn’s resolve waver. “Why didn’t you fight? Why didn’t you say no?”

“Because I didn’t have a choice!”

“We always have a choice just…sometimes it’s easier to think that you don’t.”

Zayn didn’t want to hear it, shaking his head sharply. “Look, I did what I had to do. It’s publicity, that’s all it is. It keeps me in the public eye and that’s enough. That’s what I want.”

Just like that, Niall’s eyes dropped their soft edge, icing over. “Oh, so it’s a selfish thing then. Why am I surprised? When do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Zayn hissed, tightening his grip and pushing Niall further back. “At least I never forced someone to fake come out just to spite another person. Ed Sheeran ring a bell?” he prompted when Niall looked confused. “How much did you have to pay him for that little stunt? Was it worth it? Was throwing that in my face really worth the price Ed had to pay? That has got to be “Selfish Prick of the Year” award right there.”

The next thing he knew, Zayn was flat on the floor, Niall straddling his waist. “Don’t you talk fucking shit about Ed,” he warned, hands pinning Zayn down. “That’s my best fucking mate. And, spiting you? Jesus Zayn, back to the whole world revolves around you. Haven’t you been online? Ed didn’t come out; he took me as his friend.”

“You knew what it would look like,” Zayn argued.

“I did,” he agreed, “But it weren’t me that proposed it. Ed really did ask me. And for the record, I had no idea you’d be there.”

“Bullshit.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit,” Zayn repeated, muscles bunching together so he could push Niall off, leaving them both on the bathroom floor, glaring at each other. “Of course you knew! You and Harry talk all the time.”

“Damn Zayn, at it again with the petty jealousy.”

Zayn growled. “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure you’re not,” Niall spat, pushing himself to his feet and taming his hair in the mirror with furious strokes. “You’re just a self-obsessed arsehole. I have to wonder, do you even know what kindness looks like?”

“Kindness? Think that’s something I only share with people who deserve it,” Zayn replied, also getting to his feet. “Looks like that isn’t you.”

Niall side eyed him. “Or anyone, really. Maybe Liam or Louis on a good day. Harry if he’s saying things you agree with. But no one else. A real saint you are, Princess Jasmine.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!”

“Stop acting like a brat and I might think about it!”

Zayn made for door, tossing over his shoulder, “Geez, it’s no wonder you only have one friend. Surprised you have that many.”

He would have left it, had Niall not thrown back, “God, your mother must be so ashamed whenever she sees what you’ve become. Don’t think anyone could raise the monster you’ve turned into.”

That was it.

Turning around, Zayn shoved Niall as hard as he could, watching with great delight as the younger boy nearly fell, scrambling for the counter just to keep his footing. “Don’t you ever badmouth my mother Horan!” he screamed. “You know jack shit about her or any part of my family! My family are the most loving people you’ll ever meet. I’m proud of them. Unlike you.”

Niall stiffened, a tremor wracking his body and Zayn could so work with that.

“You preach kindness and selflessness but we both know the truth here. You’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up something in your past royally and don’t think I don’t know that everything you do now is just running from that.”

“Zayn…”

“Don’t bother,” Zayn snarled, ignoring the weak cry. “Because let me tell you something; as selfish as you claim me to be, I was the one who bought my parents a new house. Because they deserved it. Promised when I was a kid I would do it and, look, I did. But more importantly, what did you do?” he challenged, watching Niall start to hunker down.

“Zayn, please,” he whispered, “Just stop.”

“Not my fault you’re ashamed,” Zayn said matter-of-factly. “Two guesses as to what you did. One, you did something terrible and either you ran or your parents threw you out out. Or two, which honestly I think more likely, you went and did your little travel thing and Mummy didn’t approve. So when you got big and got your money, you stayed away. You got too good for them.”

Niall shook his head. “That’s not…”

“They didn’t support you so why should you support them? But you know what Niall, I’m sure they resent you just as much. Hell, they’re probably glad you’re gone. You’d never help them, would you? You’d just leave them to suffer.”

“Enough!!!”

The scream was so loud, so violent, so desperate, that Zayn let go of Niall without thought. The Irishman was shaking, every last drop of colour drained from his face. His breath was coming in short pants and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He looked barely able to stand, absolutely beyond distraught.

“Shit,” Zayn swore, his anger dissipating because, fuck, this wasn’t what he wanted. “Christ Niall, no, I’m sorry,” he stammered, clumsily wiping at Niall’s face with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I didn’t…You didn’t deserve that; I’m so sorry.”

Niall batted him away, taking in large gulps of air as he scrubbed at his face messily. “No,” he croaked, voice so, so broken. “You’re right. I wouldn’t help them. I would leave them to die.”

“Fuck’s sake Niall, no,” Zayn insisted, taking a hold of his shoulders gently. “No you wouldn’t. No one would. You’re a good person Niall.”

He was smacked away once more. “Sorry Zayn, I take back what I said about you being a monster. You can’t be the monster.” He glanced once at the mirror before hiding his face, as if frightened of his own reflection. “You can’t be the monster; because it’s me. I am.”

Niall bolted and Zayn didn’t stand a chance of catching him, not a single hope in hell.

***

“He won’t answer his phone.”

“His twitter hasn’t been updated since Friday.”

“He has to be somewhere. Is there no one we can call?”

“Li’, he doesn’t even have an address. Said it yourself, you just direct deposit into his bank account or mail to the post box he’s got.”

“Should give Ed Sheeran a call.”

Zayn was the victim of three sharp glares, the other boys not even bothering to hide their disdain.

“Real fucking funny Zayn,” Louis said sarcastically.

“You did this,” Liam reminded him sharply, voice colder than Zayn had ever heard. “You over-stepped every line even though I’ve been warning you not to! I’m furious that I’ve had to call and reschedule this shoot and lie our arses out of this mess but more than that I am so fucking disappointed in you!”

Everyone jumped as Liam swore.

“What you did, the things you said-”

“At least he had the guts to own up to that,” Louis sniffed, as though it were any consolation.

“-that is not who you are Zayn! I don’t know the bloody hell is going through your mind half the time these days but I do know that you can’t take that out an innocent young man who just fucking wants to help you! Niall has only ever had your best interests at heart. And when it became clear that you two couldn’t agree on that, he focused on his work. You,” Liam ripped Zayn to his feet, eyes positively burning. “You made it personal. I have never been more disgusted to be associated with you in my life.”

Zayn curled in on himself, Liam’s hand on his shoulder weighing so much more because of the guilt that came with it. “I’m sorry.”

“And that’s just not good enough this time,” Liam quipped, striding away. “Saying sorry doesn’t fix it Zayn.”

“It’s like putting a bandaid on a broken window,” Harry chimed in, eyeing Zayn up coldly from where he was sitting.

They were right and Zayn knew it, head bowing. Letting them all fruitlessly try and find Niall on their own for a couple of minutes more, Zayn chewed on his bottom lip before tentatively calling, “Li’?”

“No Zayn, not now. I’m trying to fix your mess.”

Zayn flinched but didn’t let it deter him. “I meant it.”

“Zayn.”

“You really should try and call Ed Sheeran.”

“Zayn Malik, I swear to God-”

“He’s his best friend.”

Louis stopped midway through getting to his feet, eyes flying to Liam. Liam slowly leant forward onto his elbows, locking his gaze onto Zayn’s. “Explain.”

Zayn shrugged. “I can’t. Just…Niall said. He told me Ed Sheeran was his best mate. ‘s why they went to the Brits together.”

Liam held his gaze a moment longer before giving a single nod. “Okay. Thank you for that Zayn. I’ll ring around, see what I can do.”

“I might have his number,” Harry suddenly piped up, eyes wide like it had only just occurred to him. “I met Ed a couple of years ago, at the Funky Buddha, I think. We exchanged details for some reason or another. I…” he quickly scrolled through his phone. “Might have it still.” Harry then made an ‘aha!’ noise. “I got it! Well…assuming Ed hasn’t changed his number.”

“Here,” Liam ordered with a snap of his fingers, pressing the device to his ear and waiting for the line to connect. They all waited with baited breath, releasing them in unison when someone picked up. It must have really been Ed on the end of the phone and he seemingly knew all about them, evidence that Niall had mentioned them to him. A few questions later and Liam hung up, handing the phone back to Harry with a “thank you”. Liam then levelled them all with a look. “Ed says Niall texted him a couple of minutes ago. He’s just touched down in Ireland. That’s all he knows.”

“Ireland’s a big place,” Louis pointed out dismally.

“His twitter location is permanently on Mullingar, Ireland,” Zayn provided, shying away when everyone stared at him questioningly. “I pay attention sometimes!” He then turned to Liam. “Maybe he’s there?”

“Makes sense that he’d want to go home if you shat on his family,” Louis admitted, scowling at Zayn for good measure.

“It does make sense,” Liam conceded. He then rounded his desk, hands coming to grip Zayn’s arms and squeezing so hard he inadvertently squeaked in pain. “Find him. And if you hurt him more, don’t bother coming back. Do you understand?”

Zayn nodded silently.

Liam let him go, pushing him towards the door. “Your passport’s with Harry’s in my back office safe. Get it, grab whatever you brought today and put it in a bag and then get straight in a taxi. Your flight will be booked by the time you get to the airport. Go and fix this Malik. Last chance.”

Zayn had never moved so fast in his life.

***

Chapter Text

The flight had been less than ninety minutes, Zayn bypassing baggage collection completely, seeing as how one duffle bag was all he had. A couple of girls awaiting their flight recognised him, mouths dropping open before scurrying over, nervously asking for a photo. When Zayn agreed they hastily waved over someone’s mum, the woman taking it, the girls immediately dashing off, as though they understood he was in a hurry. Zayn thanked God for small mercies, approaching the rental car desk Liam had arranged a booking through. Collecting the keys and signing the forms, Zayn cranked up the heating before driving out of the airport, directions to Mullingar already plugged into his sat nav.

It took him an hour or so to get there, Zayn passing nothing of too much note other than some very green fields and the remains of a burnt down house. He was more concerned about what he was going to do when he reached Mullingar because Niall still wasn’t answering his phone and Zayn had no idea where to start. His sat nav dumped him right in the centre of town, leaving the supermodel momentarily lost until his attention was caught by a pub across the street. Pulling in there, and probably parking illegally, Zayn jumped out. Maybe the people inside wouldn’t know the Horans but it was probably a pretty good place to start.

Approaching the bar, Zayn felt a little unnerved when the bartender merely raised his eyebrows, taking in his ridiculously overpriced clothing with a single look. He slung his dish towel over his shoulder, resting an elbow on the bar. “You gonna be offended if I reckon you’re not here for a drink?”

Zayn blushed, earning a hearty laugh from the man opposite. “I’m looking for someone.”

“You young’uns always are,” the bartender tutted. “Alright then, what’s her name? And mine’s Sean, since you didn’t ask.”

Zayn pouted petulantly, earning him another laugh. “Zayn. And it’s not a her, it’s actually a family. Do you know the Horans by any chance?”

Sean frowned, pulling away to rub his chin. “Horan? Can’t say I know of any personally…but the name does sound familiar. Roisin!” he called, beckoning over a middle aged woman from where she was sitting. He pointed at Zayn. “This young man’s looking for the Horans. Is it just me or does that name ring a bell?”

The woman frowned, lips thinning into a line as she thought. Her eyes then lit up. The way they turned sombre the next second made Zayn’s heart sink in foreboding. “Oh, how could we forget them Sean? Everyone knows them. They had that land out east on the way into town.”

Sean’s eyes widened. “Oh!...Oh no.”

Zayn’s hands twisted together. “What…what’s wrong?”

Roisin sent him an odd look. “I don’t know why you’re looking for them. They’re not here anymore.”

He frowned. “Where did they go?”

“Son, their house burnt down. Seven years ago now.”

Zayn paled as Sean shook his head. “Nasty business that. First time they’d all been in the house together for a long time too. The brother came down special for the little one’s graduation, do you remember? He was a lark, that one. Too much cheek and always dragging his guitar to every little thing, thinking he could sing. Niall, weren’t it?”

Zayn couldn’t breathe, could barely hear through the rush of noise in his head.

“Just vanished he did,” Roisin said sadly, shaking her head. “Never saw him after the fire. Heard he got shipped to his Nan’s but then there were rumours that he’d run. And of course you had all them other folk saying he’d killed himself, survivor’s guilt and what have you. Horrible, the things people say. That poor boy.”

Oh shit.

It all made sense. It all made sense now.

Why Niall didn’t have a home; why he tensed whenever anyone brought it up.

Why he’d snapped that day in Japan when Louis had asked if he’d ever seen a dead body.

And, oh God, Louis had offered to give a funeral for his camera. Shit. That would have been the last thing he would have wanted to be reminded of.

And that camera…please, please, please let it not be one of the only things that had been saved from the fire. But in Zayn’s heart, he already knew the answer. Knew it was a resounding “yes”.

But most of all: fuck.

Because everything Zayn had ever thrown at Niall about his family, about being a disappointment to them, about letting them down, about not doing enough for them…How must that have sounded to the poor boy? A boy whose parents – and apparently also brother? – were dead when he wasn’t.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t help them. I would leave them to die.”

Niall’s words echoed back to him and Zayn had to grip the edge of the bar tightly as his head swam. Jesus. Was that what Niall thought? Was that how Niall really felt?

“Son?” Sean’s hand was resting atop his. “You okay there?”

“He never said,” Zayn rasped. “He never…”

“He never…?”

“He?” Roisin was suddenly cupping his face. “Are you…Do you know Niall?”

“I know him,” Zayn managed.

The woman studied his face, clearly puzzled. “And what in God’s name convinced you he’d be here? That boy’s long gone.”

And maybe he was but it suddenly flashed in Zayn’s head, the burnt out house he’d driven by on the way into town, the one out east, just like they’d said. It was still there. Fucking hell; after seven years it was still there.

“Sorry,” he said, escaping her arms. “I don’t know if he’s here…but I did something stupid and I…I think I may have driven him home. Here. I need to go look.”

“Pint’s on me if you find him,” Sean told him in all earnestness. “Everyone in this town would have done more for him if he’d let us. If you find him, tell him that, will you?”

Zayn nodded. “I promise.”

Exiting the pub with as much decency as possible, Zayn tore to his car the second he hit the pavement. He swung a u-turn and headed back out of town. It didn’t mean that Niall would be there, at an empty shell, but Zayn had to make sure. He couldn’t shake the feeling, wouldn’t feel at ease until he’d done it. Reaching the property, Zayn inched the car through the gate, wondering if the property was off limits or something, if he could be arrested for trespassing. Those thoughts vanished the second he caught sight of something red against the black of the charred wood. A snapback. One of Niall’s bloody snapbacks.

Throwing the car into park, Zayn scrambled to the ground, feet crunching on gravel as he raced to where Niall was kneeling. His face was a mix of tears and ash and all Zayn wanted in that moment was to have him in his arms.

So he did.

Zayn knelt down beside Niall and drew him to his chest. Niall gave one feeble push before collapsing into Zayn’s arms. His tears came thick and fast, Zayn rocking him gently.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a hand combing through Niall’s hair softly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. No one should have to go through this. You didn’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

“’s my fault,” Niall hiccoughed, curling impossibly closer. “I did this.”

“No you didn’t,” Zayn soothed. “It was an accident. No one means for things like this to happen.”

“It were still my fault,” Niall protested weakly.

“It was never your fault,” Zayn insisted, tucking Niall under his chin. “Now hush. Cry if you want to but no talking. You don’t need to talk. You need to cry.”

And so, Niall did.

***

It was hours later before Niall was ready to move. He’d tried a couple of times, and Zayn had attempted to coax him up once or twice, but each time Niall had made it only to his feet if they were lucky before he would break down again. He tried to apologise, assured Zayn he could go but Zayn had no plans of going anywhere. He’d texted the boys back home to say he’d found him but to leave them alone for now, he’d contact them again when Niall was up to talking.

Zayn thought they were at that point now, Niall wavering uncertainly on his feet before holding out a hand to Zayn. It was a testament that he was ready to go, that he could help Zayn this time rather than vice versa.

Zayn reached out to accept Niall’s hand, their fingers just brushing when he turned to look at the house one last time before leaving. And when he did, he froze because…His gaze whipped around to Niall. Niall sighed heavily.

“Yeah, it’s the photo.”

Because it was. Where he was right now was where Niall had taken that photo that had started his Instagram account. The one Harry had called “the one that started it all”. If only everyone knew how right that was. Zayn looked at his feet, a shiver running down his spine. He was sitting exactly where Niall had sat what, days? hours? after his family had died? He latched onto Niall’s hand like a lifeline, letting him pull him to his feet. Zayn then went to extract his grip only to be caught off guard when Niall held on desperately, eyes pleading as he tentatively tugged.

“Um…can we…sit?”

Zayn’s eyes softened. “We can sit.”

Niall squeezed his hand in thanks before leading Zayn across the field to the side fence. It wasn’t far, only a couple of metres or so, Niall letting go to climb to the top of the wooden fence, toes hooking behind the middle plank. A little unsteadily, Zayn followed, Niall snuffling out a laugh when he wobbled before hastily catching himself. Zayn pouted at him. “Hey, I don’t do this.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” Niall snickered. “Had a right laugh that time I asked you to climb that stair bannister.”

Zayn whacked him lightly on the arm. “We can’t all be monkeys.”

Niall snorted, bumping their shoulders together lightly. He made to move away but Zayn didn’t let him, pressing back against him.

“Niall, I’m sorry. Those things I said…they weren’t true. And not because of…this…” he waved at Niall’s remains of a house. “Even if this had never happened, it wouldn’t have been true. Your parents would always be proud of you, no matter what. And I know this…because Harry’s proud of you. Ed’s proud of you, would clearly do anything for you. Louis would fight people for you and Liam is one step away from disowning me because I hurt you.” Zayn let his eyes find Niall’s, those blue eyes wide with shock. “That’s not something that’s easy to do. Very few people can make people feel so at home around them so quickly. People love you Niall, because they can sense that you love them.” Zayn let his gaze drop. “I’m very much the opposite. I make it very clear I don’t want people near me and I…I don’t even mean to do it half the time.”

“I know,” Niall interjected quietly.

Zayn shook his head. “Maybe you do. But it doesn’t mean I can take that out on you. It’s a fault of mine, not yours.” He shifted back, eyes finding the sky. “You said I was jealous. You were right. I’m jealous you get to be out. I’m jealous of how you make friends so easily. I’m jealous of how you never seem to let anyone drag you down. I’m jealous of how carefree you live your life, the adventures you have. But as jealous as I am, that’s no excuse for me to be a prat. And we both know I was. Majorly. Which…I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, reaching out to place a hand on Niall’s knee. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I can’t say I won’t do it again, but I’ll definitely try not to. And…” Zayn scratched his cheek, suddenly shy. “Nah, forget it.”

“Hey!” Niall cried, kicking his feet like a child in the midst of a tantrum. “No fair! I won’t accept your apology unless you finish.”

Zayn gaped. “You can’t do that!”

“Watch me,” Niall taunted, raising an eyebrow imperiously.

“I…ugh, fine.” Zayn tugged at the edge of his jacket, fiddling with the zip. “I…I know you have no reason to but…could we maybe, one day, try and be friends? You don’t have to,” he added quickly, hands flailing. “I mean, I’ve been a fuckwit so I don’t expec-”

Niall’s hands caught his, eyes flying skyward in exasperation. “Of course we can be you shithead! And hey,” he said with a sheepish shrug. “I wasn’t always the nicest either.”

“You were a lot nicer than me,” Zayn deadpanned, daring Niall to challenge him. Niall saw the look for what it was, giving in but screwing up his face to show his displeasure. “Watch it. The wind’ll change and it’ll stay that way.”

“Still better than your ugly mug.”

Zayn gave Niall his best condescending look. “Please. You could at least make a comeback that’s even remotely believable.”

Niall kicked his calf before his gaze settled back on the house in front of them. He stared at it contemplatively, hands coming to clasp together. “You’re only one of two people to know about this,” he revealed.

Zayn started, a little taken aback. “You’ve never told anyone?”

“Only told one,” Niall corrected absently. “And no, didn’t see the point. Why drag everyone else down, you know? Bit of a mood dampener, this is.”

“Doesn’t mean you should have to hide it,” Zayn said, a slight scolding edge to his tone. “You told Louis secrets kill.”

“They do,” Niall admitted. “I kept this inside for over five years Zayn. There were times when I thought I would die or it would drive me mad. Kept myself busy so I never had too long to think about it. Aeroplanes, parties, sex…but there always comes a night when you’re on your own.” He shuddered. “That’s when the thoughts catch you.”

Zayn knew that feeling well. Raja’s ears weren’t always enough. “You told Ed.” It was a statement, not a question. “He’s the other one.”

Niall nodded. “He knows. Barely known each other three days before he slapped a beer in my hand and said, “you need to talk mate or I’ll find out you jumped off a bridge one day”.” Niall shook his head. “He didn’t know how right he was.” Zayn’s breath got caught in his lungs. “But anyway, I told Ed. Cried all night, I think. He was aces, held me the whole time. We weren’t even close. Made us close though. Can’t imagine where I’d be without him.”

Zayn didn’t want to think about that answer, steering the conversation away purposefully. “How did you meet him? It’s not every day people run into Ed Sheeran for what, three days, did you say?”

Niall smiled down at his lap. “We met during his hiatus, when he took them nine months off? He went travelling, bumped into each other in south Asia. Ed was just happy to find someone who spoke English, was properly lost and both drunk and high, I’m pretty sure. We kind of stuck together for awhile and then we never dropped the contact after that night. We have a system,” Niall said, grabbing his phone and opening his messages, showing them to Zayn. “Whenever Ed or I land in a country, we text each other the name of that country. And if they’re ever the same, we meet up. Plus, if I don’t text within a month, Ed’s to call the police and list me missing. Hasn’t had to do so yet,” Niall finished cheerfully enough but Zayn’s mouth was hanging open.

“A month?!” he screeched. “Dammit Niall! You would be dead by then! Plus, a country name? A name? You message Ed “USA” and in a month the police start looking…Where the hell would they start? East coast? West coast? Somewhere in the middle?!”

Niall poked his cheek. “Not dead yet, so ease up Princess.”

“Really starting to hate that,” Zayn ground out, Niall breathing out an apology.

“Should really be saying thank you,” he murmured. “For coming and finding me.”

Zayn frowned. “Least I could do. After all the shit I gave you? God, you’re entitled to so much more.”

Niall shifted his weight nervously. “Um…well, in that case then…could you…Could you listen?”

Zayn cocked his head to the side. “Listen?” Niall nodded at house, Zayn’s eyes widening. “Of course!”

It was Niall’s turn to settle down, taking a deep breath before speaking. “So obviously I grew up here. Me, Mum, Dad, and my brother Greg. He was older than me, moved away when I was thirteen, got a job out of town and all. We didn’t meet up much but Greg promised he’d make my graduation though, like, from high school?” Zayn nodded to show he was keeping up. “Right…so the day before I graduated, I bleached my hair to piss of my principal. Me dad thought it was a laugh, me mum was furious. Threatened to not give me my graduation present. I hadn’t even thought I was getting one until that point. We…uh, we weren’t exactly rich.”

“Neither was I,” Zayn said with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“No, it doesn’t. But anyway, she wouldn’t tell me where it was or what it was. Made me suffer the whole next day, said if I were good I could have it the day after. Did it too, did my best behaviour. We all came home, had dinner, and then went to bed.”

Niall faltered and Zayn slipped his hand into the trembling, pale one. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Niall frowned at the ashen remains, lips forming a sharp line. “No, I think I do. I can’t run forever. You know what happens next. The house burnt down. A faulty wire, all it was. Sparked in the middle of the night and started the blaze. Blew the fuse and short-circuited the power. Smoke alarms never went off. I woke up to this loud roaring in my ears. Didn’t know what it was, could barely think. According to the doctors, I had pretty bad smoke inhalation by that point, was lucky to even wake up at all.” Niall shrugged. “But I did. Eventually I realised the lights in my house were fire. Jumped out the window, made for the pond down the back, ‘cause that were our fire plan, you know? Run to the pond and everyone would gather there. I…” Niall’s breath hitched, eyes misting over once more. “I just never thought I would be the only one there. Took me a couple of minutes to realise no one else was coming. I thought I could hear screaming so I ran back…”

“Jesus…” Zayn hissed, tucking Niall into his side because how was this fair? How did anyone deserve this?

“The fire-brigade got me before I even reached the back door. Just tossed me up over their shoulder. I begged and begged for them to let me down, let me go back, but they said it was too late. Told me they would have died in their sleep, peacefully. The smoke would have killed them before the fire ever did. Like that was supposed make me feel better,” Niall choked out. He swiped at his eyes, burrowing into Zayn’s neck. “Took me two days to realise that if I’d been talking to the fireman and he’d been talking to me, then who was screaming? And since there was only one woman in the house…”

Zayn’s grip tightened. “No. No, no, no.”

“Were kinda my thoughts,” Niall admitted. He then pulled away, arms wrapped around his chest protectively. “And that…that’s why you were right. When you said I wouldn’t save them. When you said I’d let them die. Because it’s true. Because I did.”

Zayn hadn’t meant to hit him, never meant to hit him at all, but his hand had connected with Niall’s cheek before he knew it, sending him tumbling to the ground. Zayn caught him before he hit, wrenching him into his arms. “You fucking moron! This is not your fault. You couldn’t have saved them! Ever! You were a fucking kid. From the sounds of it, you were half-dead yourself. How the fuck do you think you would have been able to go back inside a burning building? All that would have done would have had you winding up dead as well! You did everything you fucking could! This never was and never will be your fault!” He pushed Niall to arm’s length. “Tell me you believe that.”

“I…”

“Tell me!”

Niall flinched, shaking in his grip. “I…It wasn’t my fault,” he muttered to the earth at his feet.

Zayn growled, hooking a finger under his chin. “Not good enough. Tell me like you fucking mean it.”

Very slowly, Niall let his gaze lift until it found Zayn’s. “It’s not my fault.” And just like, his bottom lip trembled as his eyes widened as realisation set in. “It’s not my fault.” He flung himself into Zayn’s arms, Zayn stumbling at the unexpected contact. “It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Zayn agreed, one arm wrapped around Niall’s back while the other hand came to run through his hair reassuringly. “It never has been and it was never your weight to carry.”

“Thank you,” Niall sobbed, clutching at him tightly. “Thanks Zayn, properly.”

Zayn smiled warmly, squeezing Niall tighter and tighter until he squawked, squirming free with a breathless laugh. “You’re welcome,” Zayn said, throwing Niall a smile as he made his way toward his car, Niall following. They detoured back past the house so Niall could grab his rucksack from where he’d dumped it, admitting he’d hitch-hiked from the airport which was just so him that Zayn couldn’t help but groan. “And you never told me,” Zayn realised as they continued their trek up the path, “Or did you never find out? What was the graduation present?”

Niall careened to a halt and Zayn swore, knowing he’d fucked up again without meaning to. Niall swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing before whispering, “Found it in the boot of Mum’s car the next day. Said she’d bought it for uni.”

With dread, Zayn knew what it was. “Your camera. She bought you the camera we broke.”

“Weren’t you that broke it,” Niall reprimanded for what had to be the hundredth time.

“But that was it?” Zayn pressed, shoulders sagging when Niall nodded meekly. “Shit mate. No wonder you were so upset when it got trashed.”

“It’s fine,” Niall lied, face covered in a false smile. “Like I said to Harry, would have happened eventually. You can’t hold onto the past forever.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t treasure it,” Zayn said, reaching the car and unlocking the doors. He hopped in and waited for Niall to do the same. “Now, since I’m making it my self-appointed mission to make-up for all the shit I’ve done to you, give me a suggestion on how to start.”

Niall clucked his tongue, tossing his bag into the back. “You don’t ha-…” Zayn frowned in suspicion as Niall trailed off, said suspicion only rising when Niall turned back to him with a wicked smile. “That all you brought?” he asked, pointing to the duffle in the back.

Zayn twisted around to look at it, eyeing it up apprehensively. “Yes…”

“And when do you next have work?” Niall asked oh so casually.

“Not for another week or so,” Zayn answered cautiously, on high alert now. “There were a couple of offers but Liam said the pay was so low it wasn’t even worth getting out of bed for.”

Niall made a disapproving noise at that but didn’t let it deter him from sending Zayn a smug smile. “Alright then Princess Jasmine, how about this: you do this one thing for me and the entire playing field will be considered level?”

Zayn’s brow furrowed. “What’s the thing?”

“Uh uh,” Niall tutted, shaking a finger at him. “Won’t know until you agree. It’s a trust thing. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

Niall held out his hand for Zayn to shake. “Come on Malik. It’s a good offer I’m providing you with here.”

“I don’t know that,” Zayn snapped. “You’ve given me no terms.”

“Then guess you’re running on trust alone.” Niall wiggled his fingers. “Deal?”

Reluctantly, and with a great amount of regret already, Zayn shook Niall’s hand shortly. “Deal.”

“Brilliant!” Niall chirped, turning and pulling his seatbelt on. “Back into town please,” he requested, Zayn staring at him incredulously until Niall cleared his throat impatiently.

Rolling his eyes, Zayn placed his hand on the back of Niall’s chair as he began to reverse down the driveway. Niall very resolutely did not look up from his phone, ignoring the house and clearly intending to spare it not one more glance. He tapped away at his phone most of the way into town. Zayn pointed out the pub he’d been to earlier, suggesting they stop there for an early dinner. Niall agreed, still keeping mum about whatever the hell he had planned.

Roisin was, amazingly, still there and flung her arms around Niall upon seeing him enter alongside Zayn. He nearly toppled over under her weight but returned her hug just as merrily, even if he announced seconds later that he didn’t have a clue as to who she was. She pinched his cheek, saying it didn’t matter and asking if there was anything he needed. Niall assured her he was fine, more touched by her, and his town’s, generosity than anything. Word must have spread because a couple of old family friends turned up, each one arriving with a smothering hug and the offer of a pint. Niall nearly cried every time but Zayn could tell it wasn’t because he was upset, just more overwhelmed, possibly even joyful.

They weaselled their way out before darkness fully fell though, Niall making excuses and dragging Zayn down to the cash machine just beside their hired car. Making a withdrawal of his own, Niall stuffed a wad of cash into his pocket before holding out his hand. “Card please.”

Zayn folded his arms. “Why?”

Niall merely grinned impishly. “Card please.”

Against his better judgment, Zayn opened his wallet, flipping to his bank card, hesitating once more before slapping it into Niall’s palm. Niall happily slid it into the machine. Zayn whacked him when he asked for the PIN, entering it himself and absolutely shielding the keypad from view as he did so. The next thing he knew, Niall was handing him a similar sized stack of notes.

“These are for you.”

Zayn thumbed through it, counting the money. “Alright…it’s two hundred quid. What about it?” It was barely anything to him but still, that didn’t mean he was about to just throw it away.

Niall rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. You said you were jealous of how I had a carefree life and adventures all the time.” He waited for Zayn to nod. “I’ve spent the past couple of months experiencing your world; it’s time for you to experience mine.”

Zayn blinked. “What?”

“That,” Niall said, tapping the money in his palm. “Is all you have. For a week.”

Zayn’s smile dropped.

“And you’ll be happy to know, I already have Liam’s blessing to kidnap you for the next seven days.” He really did, showing Zayn the text as proof. Liam was a traitor, a dirty traitor. “Now you and I,” Niall crowed, jumping into the driver’s seat. “Are going to spend the next week driving around Ireland, climbing mountains, running through fields, having fun.”

“Fine,” Zayn agreed, muttering to himself as he clambered into the passenger seat, feet coming up to rest on the dashboard. “But can we find a hotel first and start in the morning?”

“If you want,” Niall said jovially…a little too jovially for Zayn’s tastes. “I mean, hotel’s here cost about £100 a night, we split that, that’s £50.” He eyed up the money in Zayn’s hand. “How much have you got again?”

“What? No!” Zayn screeched, whipping his feet down so he could turn to Niall fully. “You don’t…no! We don’t have enough money for that! No, the money…isn’t that like, spending money?”

“Sure, I mean, you are spending it every time you use it.”

Zayn took a deep breath, hands running through his hair. “Are you trying to tell me that I have to last seven days with £200 and that includes hotels?”

“And food, and clothes, and whatever else you end up needing along the way,” Niall supplied, cackling maniacally.

Zayn’s hands flew to the duffle in the back, reefing through it in panic. “This…Niall, no. I can’t…I don’t have enough clothes for that! I don’t have pyjamas.”

“Then sleep in your underwear.”

“I didn’t bring enough pairs of those!”

“Okay,” Niall conceded. “We’ll stop by an ASDA and buy some more. Won’t you need shampoo and that shit too?”

“ASDA?!” Zayn’s hand flew to his heart. “I don’t…Niall, I don’t shop there.”

Niall sent him a flat look. “You will be this week.”

“And, oh God, my shampoo. Lou”s gonna kill me if I don’t use the right one! It’s expensive as fuck.”

“Better not get that then,” Niall laughed, having way too much fun at the expense of Zayn’s quickly deteriorating sanity. “Maybe get one of those all-in-one washes?”

Zayn had never felt so insulted in his life. Tossing his bag to the floor grumpily, Zayn crossed his arms, bottom lip filled out in a pout. Niall eyed him up for a long moment before cautiously laying a hand on his arm. Zayn’s first instinct was to shake it off but hey, they were supposed to be making amends here.

“Zayn, please?” Niall’s voice was so innocent, so childlike. “It’ll be fun if you let it be. We can fold down the seats and sleep in the car. Shower at public pools or in the ocean. See if you can pee out the car while we’re driving.”

Zayn laughed unbidden, slapping a hand across his mouth because God. “That sounds awful.”

Niall laughed loudly, nudging him. “Nah, sounds great! We’ll sleep in the car tonight and you can work on your game plan tomorrow.” He peered out at the upcoming road sign, changing into the left lane. “Besides, got this place I wanna go now. When sunrise comes, it’s the most breath-taking spot in the world.”

Zayn chewed on his lip. “It sounds…nice,” he admitted.

“Words mate, I don’t even have the words,” Niall said, flipping the radio on. “Now, if you’re tired, sleep. It’s a two hour drive.”

“Thought we were going to see the sunrise?” Zayn questioned. “Don’t need to sleep now if we’re just gonna sleep when we get there.”

Niall’s mouth twitched. “It were either sleep or talk to me so I figured…”

Zayn didn’t know which of those two options he liked either. So instead, he leant over and turned the radio up from where it was playing Bruno Mars’ latest track. “You sing?”

Niall’s eyes shone. “Oh, I sing!”

“Good.”

***

Zayn groaned when he felt someone shaking him at what had to be far too early of a time. He was stripped down to his underwear, huddled under the coat he’d nicked from his rack back in London. The car seat, even as folded down as it was, had not been comfortable and Zayn was sure he’d spent half the night tossing and turning. The other half had been spent trying to block out Niall’s loud snoring.

“Zayn!”

The hiss of his name was accompanied by something smacking him in the face. “Oi!” Zayn cried, jerking up and finding Niall sitting on the back of the car, having pushed open the tailgate.

“Hurry up,” Niall called, feet swinging as he adjusted the focus on his camera, pointing it out towards the horizon. “Wait any longer and you’ll miss it.”

Feeling above his head, Zayn found what had hit him to be his jeans from last night. Nose crinkling in distaste at having to wear them again, Zayn begrudgingly shoved his legs into the denim, snagging a jacket from his duffle and shuffling down to where Niall was. Niall was dressed in a relaxed pair of pale blue jeans, a tank covering his torso. He was shivering in the morning chill but didn’t seem to mind, not if his smile was anything to go by. Zayn swung his own legs over the back, toes grazing the grass.

“Alright, I’m up.”

“Yes, you’re up,” Niall agreed, patting him atop the head like it was a reward. “Now shut up and enjoy the sunrise.”

Zayn went to complain but he couldn’t because he took the next moment to simply look. And what he saw…it took his breath away.

Niall had quite literally parked them just a metre or so away from the edge of a cliff – illegal! Illegal! – rear of the car facing out towards the ocean. Zayn knew where they were, seen it in enough travel brochures over the years: the Cliffs of Moher. But he had never seen them as they were now – bathed in golden light from the sun, each crevice plunged into inky, dark shadows, water foaming at the base. The clouds were dappled across the sky, Zayn enraptured as they shifted through every pastel colour; purple, blue, pink, orange, yellow.

Niall’s camera was a constant sound next to him. Scrambling to the front seat to grab his own phone, Zayn swore when he realised it was on 6%. And dammit, did they even have a charger? A second later he didn’t care because he was skidding back to Niall’s side, not wanting to miss a second of how this part of the world came alive. He sat there in awe until the sun rose a good distance from the start of the horizon line, steadily rising into the sky.

A hand came to rest on his thigh, a phantom squeeze present. “Was that…?”

“Don’t even have the words. Jesus Niall, you were right. There aren’t even words for that.”

Niall giggled, looking a little chuffed. Zayn let him, frowning a bit when Niall shoved his camera into his face. “Switched the lens when you were otherwise engaged. Let’s me take things from close up without it actually looking like I’m in their face.”

Zayn understood the second he saw the photo. It was him. Niall must have shuffled away at some point because he’d managed to fit Zayn’s whole body into the frame – even if he was sitting – but the photo…the photo was incredible. Most of Zayn’s face was hidden in shadow, the sun was catching parts of him, almost making him glow. The cliffs, captured in that rich golden colour Zayn had fallen in love with, were perfectly centred in the background.

But what Zayn liked most of all was the tiny smile on his face.

“I…” His eyes found Niall’s. “Can I have this?”

Niall’s mouth dropped, Zayn snorting in amusement because that was a first. Niall quickly snapped his mouth shut at the reaction before taking the camera back, grabbing a cable from his bag and attaching it from his camera to Zayn’s phone. After Zayn had unlocked it, it took Niall mere seconds to transfer the image across. Zayn thumbed at it on the screen, smile never leaving his face.

“Could I…is it alright with you if I upload this to my instagram?”

If there was a record for number of stunned faces in under a minute, Zayn was pretty confident Niall was about to break it. “C-course,” he spluttered. “I mean, Harry already did. Of course you can.”

“My phone’s gonna die after doing this, I hope you appreciate my sacrifice,” Zayn informed him as Niall set about packing his gear up. He was met with a laugh.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got a cable what charges devices through the car. Bit of a necessity with me.”

“Good to know!”

Zayn frowned down at the empty caption for so long his screen actually turned off. Muttering in agitation, Zayn unlocked the device once more, glancing up to where Niall was finishing up. He smiled, typing quickly before posting, sighing in relief when his phone didn’t die mid-post.

zaynmalik: “to see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other, and to feel; that is the purpose of life”. Shukriya @niallhoran

***

Chapter Text

Zayn had made it through the first day as well as could probably be expected. Camping was never something he had enjoyed – one of those where the notion of sounded appealing enough, the actual act revolting. And yes, they weren’t camping per se but it was all but the same thing, possibly even worse. Because there were no showers or toilets in the car, Niall drowning them in deodorant as though that would clean their skin and stopping whenever they found public toilets. Some of those were enough to make Zayn wonder if Niall hadn’t really been joking when he’d suggested whizzing out the car window because, yeah…

Come the end of the second day though and Zayn was ready to rip his skin off. They hadn’t stopped in any supermarkets – though they’d passed several – because each time Niall had suggested it, Zayn had huffed and stubbornly said no. He didn’t know what his plan was. Like, was he hoping Niall would give in and let him use his credit card to buy an entire suitcase full of clothes? Was he hoping Niall would get fed up and buy things for him?

In the end his desperation won out and Zayn nearly panicked upon seeing the time. He was currently in the driver’s seat, Niall leaning out the window and taking photos when the mood struck him. When it didn’t, he was casually reclining in his chair, chewing his gum rather loudly and sitting with his hands crossed behind his head. It made for a beautiful image; but Zayn would never admit that out loud.

“Next set of shops, we’re stopping,” he announced.

Niall grinned wickedly. “Oh really? Wondered how long you’d last.”

Seeing one approach from around the bend, Zayn pulled in sharply without warning, cackling in satisfaction when Niall was thrown against his seatbelt. The blond scowled at him but said nothing, showing more restraint that Zayn ever would. He hopped out the second they were parked, marching across the carpark so quickly Zayn had to scramble to catch him.

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!”

Snagging a basket as he entered the store, Niall shot a look over his shoulder. “I’ll leave you to fend for yourself if you don’t drop the attitude.”

Zayn frowned, eyebrows pinching together as he followed Niall with his own basket. “Oh my, goodness me. Why would I possibly be unhappy right now?”

“Because you’re a miserable fuck who doesn’t even have time for fun,” Niall said bluntly, scrutinising some items on the shelves before chucking a couple into his basket. Zayn followed as he headed to the next aisle only to stop when Niall did, glancing between his and Zayn’s empty basket. “I’m not sharing so unless you wanna spend the rest of the week without toiletries, back you go.”

He made a shooing motion and Zayn stomped back. He let out an involuntary noise of alarm when Niall made to leave, the photographer freezing in shock before coming back, eyes a little softer.

“Alright superstar, let’s do this. What do you need?”

“Shampoo, conditioner, moisturising cream, actual moisturiser, body wash, toothpaste, whitening gel, toothbrush, brush, comb-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Niall said quickly, flapping his hands. “We don’t have the budget for that. Take something out.”

“I can’t,” Zayn argued, voice a tad whinier than he would have liked. “I need all of it. Louis will back me up!”

“Louis can fix you up when you get back,” Niall stated, accepting no arguments. He picked out a body wash and a shampoo-conditioner combo. “Not a three-in-one but a compromise.” He stuffed them into Zayn’s hands. “Now, toothbrushes come in pairs so I’m happy to give you one of mine if tha-”

“I can’t use this.”

Niall stopped dead at Zayn’s words, turning around oh so slowly, eyes burning. “Pardon?”

Zayn held up the bottle. “This. I can’t. It’s…” his nose screwed up. “It’s too cheap. I don’t even know what’s in this. Louis says anything below salon grade is-”

“Louis isn’t here!” The shout echoed around the store, Niall flushing bright red as several people turned to look at him. He offered them a “sorry” before turning back to Zayn. “I already said Louis can fix it when you get back. A little is better than nothing. This is about trying new things Zayn. Just…for fuck’s sake, just do it!”

“Fine,” Zayn snarled, conceding and tossing it in.

The next few items really were picked by what was cheapest, even if it grated on Zayn’s nerves something terrible. It had been a long time since he’d had to be conscious with his money; so long in fact that he’d actually forgotten what it felt like. It was so strange to walk around a store with a mental tally in his head, dividing his money just so, working out what each meal would cost and how he could work around that. Where was it okay to cut corners? What were the things he could risk splurging on?

They’d made it through the food section, although Zayn had winced because cheapest didn’t always mean healthiest and…okay, his hands had clenched into the skin of his stomach a couple of times compulsively. To his credit though, Niall had been switched on enough to realise the problem for what it was. Even he couldn’t justify forcing Zayn to eat a whole bunch of junk that was going to leave him anxious and guilty every second of the day and send him to several intensive sessions at the gym before his next weigh in. Ever so gently Niall had helped him choose, finding cheap(ish) combinations of food, even tossing a few in his own basket, claiming Zayn had a disadvantage that needed to be compensated for fairly.

With that tucked under their belt, though it had left Zayn harried and keyed up from stress, he had imagined they might actually survive. Then they’d hit the clothing section and everything had gone arse up. Because they needed clothes. Badly. Both boys were out of underwear, their clothes were starting to smell due to their lack of showers, and nothing Zayn had brought was really appropriate; after all, he’d only had a photoshoot rack to choose from, not his actual wardrobe.

But clothes were Zayn’s forte and not really something he budged on. Which Niall quickly discovered, much to his chagrin.

“Just buy it.”

“No.” Zayn placed the sweats back. “This isn’t even 100% cotton; it’s mixed materials. God knows what else is in it.”

Niall shoved the tag in his face. “Polyester. It says right there. That’s what’s fucking in it.”

“Still no,” Zayn protested, placing them back once more. “And besides, I wouldn’t be seen dead in those.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed. “They’re for sleeping in. Who is going to see you?”

“That’s not the point.” Zayn crossed the aisle, surveying the denim collection. He fingered the hem of a pair, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Who even did the stitching on this? It’s atrocious.”

“Right.” Niall’s basket was slammed onto the ground, the Irishman squaring off against him. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. I thought we could have some fun, that maybe you might learn to enjoy this. I was wrong. I can see that now. Have fun!”

Zayn blinked in confusion as Niall picked up his basket and began to stride away. “W-what?”

“I said, have fun Zayn!” Niall called. “You have the keys. Go home. Next time we meet it’ll be on the job.”

Zayn stood there in shock as Niall disappeared out of sight. His left hand crept down to pat the keys in his pocket. Yes, he had the keys but he would never actually leave Niall. It took him a good ten minutes to realise, however, that Niall would actually leave him.

Abandoning his basket, Zayn flew towards the exit. He couldn’t see Niall on either side of the ASDA. Swearing, Zayn ran to the car. Perhaps from in there he’d be able to track him down quicker. He was at the car and about to press the button to unlock it when he screeched to a halt, realising someone was already standing at the back. It was Niall, though he had his back turned and his eyes downcast.

“My bag is in the car,” he admitted in a whisper. “I need it.”

“Niall…”

Niall shied away from his outstretched arm. “Don’t. Just…this was a stupid idea, okay? You don’t have to do this Zayn. I forgive you.”

Zayn then realised in horror that Niall’s breath was hitching. Oh God, he was trying not to cry. And shit, he was the reason behind that. Without thought, Zayn pulled Niall in. “Feel like I apologise to you every day,” he muttered, burying his face in Niall’s neck. “But Christ if you don’t deserve it. So, again, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Niall. Sorry I’m being such a stuck-up prick, a spoilt brat. You’re trying and I…I’m not. Sorry man.”

Niall pulled away, brushing at his eyes as unobtrusively as possible. “Thanks for saying that.”

“And I’ll try to mean it,” Zayn promised, hearing the unanswered question there.

Warmth flooded back into Niall’s face. His gaze then dropped to Zayn’s hands. “…where’s your shit?”

Zayn glanced back at the store. “Uh…”

Niall groaned loudly. “No! No way am I going back in there. That was the longest hour of my life!”

Uncertainly, Zayn reached into his pocket and held out all the money remaining from what Niall had given him. “Think the basket is probably where we left it…Did you…How about you buy what I need and I wait here? And as a rule, I cannot complain about anything you buy. Within reason!” he added quickly when Niall’s eyes lit up. The way his expression soured had Zayn thinking that was probably a good idea.

Niall took the money. “So nothing lime green or leopard print?” His eyes raked up Zayn shamelessly. “What are you, a small all around?”

Zayn shrugged a shoulder. “Mostly. Extra small in jumpers though, and pyjamas. They tend to make those more loose fitting.”

“Alright,” Niall said, but he tapped Zayn’s nose with a stern finger, earning an indignant glower. “But no complaining. I’m holding you to that.”

***

There was a lot to be said about being the only person living in a flat. Yes, it could get lonely at times but there were never debates over who ate the last of something, never had to tell the room-mate to shut up, being able to leave crap anywhere just because. There was also the very important detail of being able to wank whenever the need arose.

Unfortunately for Zayn, the need was kind of now and he was very much not alone.

He and Niall were once again in the back of their car, having been following the coast and discovering a beach on the tail-end of dusk. Niall had wanted to capture it in the morning and Zayn couldn’t be bothered to drive for possibly miles in any direction looking for a place to stay. He’d consented and they’d parked just shy of the beach’s edge, changing into the clothes Niall had bought and climbing into the back. Sleep had come easily enough.

Except now Zayn was awake and also sporting a massive hard-on. Shit.

Niall was asleep on the other side of the car, tucked up into himself as there was a slight chill in the air that had invaded the car during the night. He seemed to sleep like a log but Zayn didn’t know if he would sleep through someone jerking off right next to him. That had to be a breach of social etiquette. Did Louis do it? Yes. But that was Louis and exceptions were always made for Louis. Hell, Louis would just smile if caught and lazily ask who wanted to join. Zayn was not that person. He was not going to do that.

Twenty-two minutes later and Zayn was very much that person. He had tried every trick in the book but it had had zero effect. Muttering a furious prayer, Zayn slipped his hand under the blanket Niall had so graciously thought to buy him – saying Zayn’s slighter frame would have him feeling the cold more. Which was true. But he probably hadn’t bought it thinking that Zayn would use it as a shield as he got off. Hissing as his hand slipped below the waistband of his sweats and wrapped around his cock, Zayn scolded himself. He’d need to be quiet if he was going to do this.

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Zayn shot one last furtive look in Niall’s direction. He was still deep in slumber which was as good as he was ever going to get. Tilting his hips ever so slightly forward, Zayn let his hand slide down the length of his cock, biting his lip at the friction. Slicking up his hand with what little pre-come there already was, Zayn started to pump leisurely, wrist twisting in just the way he knew he liked, body jolting with pleasure. The slightest of whimpers escaped as his other hand came down to roll his balls between his fingers but it was barely audible.

Or at least, so he’d thought until there was the tell-tale sound of rustling fabric to his left. Eyes flying over, Zayn froze entirely. Because Niall was awake. Very much so. He was sitting up with a cocky grin on his face, waving when he realised Zayn had noticed him. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Fuck,” Zayn whined, squeezing his eyes shut and pretending this moment would just end because he was so, so hard but so humiliated right now. He then jumped a mile as something brushed against his side.

“You know…” His eyes shot open at the sound of Niall’s voice, the other man literally right there, feigning contemplation. “When I do this, there’s usually a bit more noise involved.”

Zayn didn’t even have the energy to glare. “Right, because I’m sure you’re so good at this.”

He didn’t realise the insinuation in his words until Niall was suddenly straddling his lap, ignoring Zayn’s yelp of surprise as he pawed at where his hands were under the waistband of his pants. “I could show you? Learnt a few tricks in my time.”

Zayn was pretty sure his brain short-circuited. Was Niall really offering to…? His eyes swept over the wiry torso in front of him, watching as Niall’s muscles bunched and rippled as he shifted ever so minutely. He then found Niall’s eyes, blue and bright and so open and honest that Zayn knew he didn’t have any ulterior motives.

“Haven’t heard a yes,” Niall said, tapping his chest to get his attention. “I won’t do anything until I know I have your consent.”

“You have it,” Zayn gasped out as Niall’s fingers burned against his skin. “Fuck Niall, I don’t even care right now. Just…Fuck, I just need to come.”

“Come, got it,” Niall said with a grin, like this was all a game. The next second Zayn didn’t care, didn’t care because Niall had pulled down his sweats and was letting his fingers run up the vein on the underside of his cock. “Figures this part of you would be as pretty as the rest,” he muttered, dropping his hand to Zayn’s balls and giving them the slightest of tugs. Zayn’s back arched, a loud groan escaping. “Jesus,” Niall breathed, “How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Long enough,” Zayn ground out, gasping when Niall came to mouth at the base of his cock, slowly working higher and higher until he was at the tip. When he blew on it, Zayn keened high in his throat, Niall’s hand coming to pin him down. “Last one was Louis.”

“Louis?” Niall asked, raising an eyebrow before shrugging. “Huh, would have thought Harry to be honest. Or Liam, if you asked nicely enough. I bet he would.”

Zayn would have laughed at that because it was so true – Liam would stammer and flush crimson but he’d do it – but laughing was suddenly the last thing on his mind, Niall swirling his tongue around the head before proceeding to take Zayn into his mouth. And fucking hell, Niall could deep throat better than anyone. Zayn didn’t know if he had a gag-reflex at all, drowning in the sensation of his cock sliding further and further down. Feeling himself hit the back of Niall’s throat, Zayn cried out when Niall moaned, the vibrations shooting down his cock and through his body.

With one hand still firmly on his waist, Niall began to bob, moving up and down and Zayn could only watch in fascination as his cock went past those sinful lips over and over. Niall’s eyes then flickered up and Zayn’s breath stopped as their gaze met. Even with a mouthful of cock, Zayn could tell he was grinning. Whining because it just wasn’t fair for one man to be so talented, Zayn swore when Niall added the barest scraping of teeth.

“Niall, fuck!...you need to…I’m gonna come…shit…”

Niall pulled off with a wet pop, wiping the spit from his chin with a hand before taking Zayn’s length in the other. One, two, three pulls was all that was required before Zayn came, spine curving up as his orgasm ripped through him. Niall kept his rhythm until he’d milked every last bit of come. Zayn was going to say something, hadn’t decided between a compliment or a witty one-liner, but he was rendered speechless when Niall slipped off him, slumping down against the opposite wall. His pants were gone in seconds, legs spread obscenely wide as he jerked himself off, Zayn’s come being used as lube. It was filthy, absolutely so, and yet Zayn had never felt as turned on as he did when Niall came seconds later, as though the achievement was his in some twisted way.

“God, that was good,” Niall panted, sweat running down his face. Winking at Zayn, he then raised his hand, palm glistening in come. “Would watching me lick this off get you hard enough for round two?”

Zayn screeched in indignation, kicking him playfully. “No, that’s disgusting! Go clean up like a normal person!”

Niall flipped him off as he opened the back door with his elbows, pulling up his pants with his cleanest hand. “Gonna wash these in the sea. If you’ve got a clean hand, grab my camera. Think we nearly missed sunrise.”

Fossicking around and finding said camera, Zayn assessed his hands before grimacing. In the end, he settled for slipping his hand through the strap and letting it rest in the crease of his elbow. He then shook his head at Niall’s words. “And whose fault is that?”

***

“Come on!”

Zayn shook his head, refusing to budge.

Niall fisted his hands on his hips, which wouldn’t have been quite so distracting had he not been completely naked. “We don’t have a bath,” Niall reiterated. “So, soap up here and then dive in.” He jerked a thumb towards the sea. “Come on Zayn. It’ll be two seconds if that. It’s bloody freezing.”

Zayn shook his head once more, eyes dropping to the sand and hoping that Niall wouldn’t-

“Hey, what’s really wrong?”

-that. Zayn sighed, gaze still trained on the ground as Niall’s hand came to rub his arm encouragingly. He mumbled something, eyes flicking up for the second it took to realise that Niall hadn’t heard, a deep frown covering his forehead. Sighing once again, Zayn repeated, a little louder, “…can’t swim.”

“Oh.” Niall’s fingers started drumming on his arm, Zayn’s nose twitching, unsure as to whether he liked that or not. “That’s alright though. We won’t swim, just flop in the shallows. You need to wash,” he said unapologetically.

“Not my fault I stink!” Zayn cried, squealing when Niall tugged his shirt over his head. “Hey!”

“Strip, now.”

That…that shouldn’t have been hot and yet…Willing his cheeks not to heat up, Zayn quickly shimmied out of his clothes, grabbing his various toiletries from where he’d set them down earlier. He soaped himself up, Niall doing the same, until they were both covered in bubbles and their hair was slick with shampoo. Niall then held out his hand, “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

Niall nodded, like he expected that, but he was still smiling, outright beaming when Zayn cautiously placed his tanned hand into Niall’s pale one. Niall walked him down to the start of the waves, altering his grip so that their fingers were interlaced.

“This way, I won’t lose you,” he explained. “Here’s how we’re going to do this: quick. If you stop to think you won’t go through with it. We’ll run waist deep, rinse off as fast as possible, and then back up here, okay?”

Zayn had to be all but crushing Niall’s hand. “Not okay.”

He offered a tentative smile though and that was that, Niall tearing off. And he was right. The water was freezing. They’d both had a constant stream of profanities coming out of their mouths the entire time, screaming and being as quick as possible. With chattering teeth and shaking shoulders they’d make a break back for the shore…Only to realise they hadn’t bought towels. Zayn had stood there blankly in disbelief, Niall quickly assessing everything in their car before lobbing a shirt at him, saying that that would have to do. It was the best they had and Zayn had accepted that, drying himself off furiously before hopping into his clothes. He and Niall then dived into the car, cranking the heating and letting the warm air blow over them until they were all but roasting. Their eyes met just before they drove off and Zayn couldn’t help but smile, eyes crinkling shut in delight. Niall returned it, letting his head flop onto Zayn’s shoulder for a second before slipping the car into drive.

Okay, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

The rest of the day, and the next, had passed without drama. Niall had taken Zayn through some forests and up a couple of mountains. He’d choked on his water when Zayn had actually pointed out a lookout and asked if they could stop and climb up to it. They had, of course, Niall practically skipping the whole way. They’d spent another night bundled in the car but the temperature had suddenly snapped cold and even under a blanket and two jumpers, Zayn hadn’t been warm enough. Niall had clambered over and wrapped him up from behind, chest pressed right against Zayn’s back, exuding warmth. The next night they’d managed to find a cheap hostel and if they’d spent a little too much on a room it was worth the excessively long hot showers that had come with it.

Niall’s adventure of today though had been to traverse the northern coast line. There was a rope bridge he wanted to cross, which Zayn had never heard of but Niall insisted was famous. And while it wasn’t first on their list of stops, weather conditions meant they had to get there before the afternoon gales picked up. So they’d headed across to Carrick-a-Rede, Zayn balking at the sight of the tiny rope bridge stretched metres above the sea, connecting the mainland to a tiny island. He made it plain that he wasn’t crossing but didn’t make any attempts to stop Niall. There wasn’t any doubt of Niall crossing, the blond walking across like he wasn’t a single stumble away from death, coming back with cheeks flushed and eyes wild, arms gesturing grandly as he explained everything he’d seen and photographed.

The trek back had nearly knocked Zayn off his feet several times the wind was so strong. And he wasn’t just saying that. Niall had looked borderline concerned multiple times, even going so far as to swap Zayn to his left so that Niall was the one closest to the path’s edge, closest to the cliffs. Whenever a particularly strong gale would come, Niall would bend down against it, arm coming to settle across Zayn’s lower back, anchoring him to his side.

It had been insane, completely mad, but so exhilarating. The Giant’s Causeway had been just as impressive, though Zayn did think that the tour guide had been a little confused when explaining the “five sided hexagons”…Didn’t that just make them pentagons? Regardless, he’d settled down patiently as Niall had taken some snaps, shivering more and more as the clouds descended but eventually the photographer was done, bounding to Zayn’s side and tugging him towards the bus stop.

“Next one’s in fifteen. Quick before we freeze our arses off.” Which they would, as it had started to drizzle finely.

Hopping in and finding a seat, Zayn slid in beside Niall, mentally sending his eyes skyward at the little boy wailing in the chair a couple of rows down. The mother seemed duly embarrassed though and hey, Zayn had spent his fair share of time around Louis’ siblings, as well as his own. Kids could be merciless.

“I’m sorry Toby,” she was saying. “But it’s gone. How about we sit at the shop and have a muffin before we go?”

“No!” he cried, kicking his feet against the stroller his sister was in. “I want Mr. Sheep now!”

“I’m sorry love, but he’s gone. Maybe if we sit at the shop, someone what works here might find him and bring him back, okay?”

Toby, as he’d been called, sniffed but nodded. “Okay. Be brave for him.”

“You’re always brave love.”

With a tiny smile, Zayn looked away, studying the cliffs beside him as the bus started up. Then, just then, he saw it, in a ditch a little way down the road. Something white and woolly. Fuck, the sheep.

“Niall.”

Niall yelped as Zayn yanked him to his feet, jumping out the bus’ back door seconds before it closed. Niall’s mouth was hanging open in shock, watching the bus drive off in disbelief. He then swore as the rain became heavier, hastily shoving his camera into his backpack and outright glaring at him. “What the fuck Zayn?!”

Zayn didn’t answer, picking his way down the embankment until he reached the ball of white fluff. Scooping it up, it was exactly what Zayn thought it was. A small stuffed sheep, ear a little stiff from where it obviously got sucked on during sleep and a little muddy from being on the ground but otherwise fine. Niall paused his rampage long enough to glance at the object, his anger melting away instantly.

“You sap,” he laughed incredulously. “Christ, you’re…a bloody enigma, you know that?”

Zayn blushed, scratching at his cheek before looking up, eyes squinting against the rain pounding down. “I guess now we wait?”

Niall huffed. “Yes, now we wait. And God above hope that that family’s still there when we get up the top. If you die of cold, don’t blame me.”

The bus was indeed another fifteen minutes, both of them soaked through by the time it arrived and ferried them back to the visitor centre. The family was still there, thankfully, Zayn thrusting the sheep into Niall’s arms and gesturing towards them. Niall looked stumped but approached the table, clearing his throat to get the woman’s attention.

“Sorry, but my friend-”

He looked straight at Zayn; fucker.

“-found this. Think he said it were yours.”

The little boy squealed at the sight of his beloved toy, snatching it out of Niall’s hands and hugging it profusely. With a simple wave, Niall moved back towards Zayn, eyebrows knitting together in worry at just how cold he looked. Yes, Niall was shivering and his fingers were numb but Zayn was outright wracking with cold and his lips were definitely tinged with blue.

“Think we’re gonna have to splurge on a hotel tonight,” Niall decided, knowing it said mountains when he combed Zayn’s hair off his face and wasn’t met with any resistance at all. “Let me get some clothes from the car. We’ll change here and then find somewhere, okay?”

Zayn nodded, arms folded tightly across his chest in a futile attempt to retain warmth. “Sounds good. I can get us a tea?” He pointed at the café and Niall gave him a thumbs up.

“Great. How abo-”

“Where are you boys staying tonight?”

They both whipped around to find Toby’s mother right behind them, having stood up from her table and eyeing them up with a frown. “Um, we don’t know?” Niall provided sheepishly. “I’m sure we’ll find somewhere.”

The woman looked dubiously at the pouring rain outside. “Not in this weather you won’t. It’s not safe to drive. Tell you what, I live in Portballintrae, it’s only a couple of miles and I’ve a spare room. Come have tea and a shower and stay the night, it’s the least I can do. No one should be out in dreadful weather like this.”

Zayn went to say no but Niall was already bouncing up and down on his toes. “That sounds lovely! But we’ll cook. Pay our way and all.”

She laughed. “As long as it’s for five, that’ll be fine. Now, I’m Mary. And you are?

“Niall.” “Zayn.”

“Perfect. Let’s go then – get you warmed up.”

Mary pointed out her car and then they each dashed to their own, Niall waiting for Mary to pull out of the parking lot before following along behind. From the passenger seat, Zayn was chewing on his lip before eventually he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Should we be doing this?” he blurted out. “I mean…this is a stranger’s house. And isn’t it rude to intrude? I don’t…Is this okay?”

Niall patted his cheek softly, giggling when Zayn tried to bite him. “This, what’s happening now, this is my favourite part of travelling. The sights, the sounds, nothing compares to the people. Sometimes you find yourself amazed you even survived with your life and other times you come away with the most incredible stories and a lifelong friend. And,” he said simply, “She’s got kids. Pretty sure most serial killers don’t have kids.”

“They’re probably serial killers too,” Zayn muttered, but he was unable to stay suspicious long. Not when Mary sent him into the bathroom first, along with a fluffy towel and a promise to turn up the thermostat in his room. Turning the water to near boiling, Zayn let the warmth seep through his skin all the way to his bones before washing. With one last rinse of his hair, he climbed out and swapped to the pyjamas Niall had bought earlier in the week. Bouncing down the stairs, Zayn laughed the second he hit the living room. Niall was flat on the floor with Toby on his stomach and the littler sister tugging on his hair.

“Zayn, help!” he hollered.

Zayn rolled his eyes but scooped Toby up, allowing Niall to make a run for the bathroom. Settling down on the floor, Zayn let his eyes wander over to where Mary was sorting the washing. “Sorry for, like, intruding.”

“You’re not intruding,” Mary said, tone scolding. “Goodness Zayn. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here. Plus, keeps those two out from under my feet. A right nightmare with Brian away.”

“I can imagine,” Zayn quipped, turning to Toby…who turned guilty upon being caught about to yank Zayn’s hair. “And how old are you?”

“I’m Tobias John O’Murphy and I’m four!” he announced before pointing to his sister. “That’s Faye. She’s one! She’s little and I’m big!”

“You are,” Zayn agreed, eyes widened playfully.

“Mummy says you’re Zayn.” He nodded. “Well then Zayn, Mummy said my socks are old and smelly and told me to put them in the bin but I said no and I want to keep them. You’re an adult like Mummy. You’re the boss. Tell her I can keep them.”

“Toby!”

Zayn raised his eyebrows as Toby nicked the socks in question from what was obviously a “to bin” pile. They were too small for him but otherwise in good condition. Zayn hesitated before saying, “Well, if it’s alright with your mum, maybe I could show you how to turn them into sock puppets?”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Mary admitted, looking genuinely impressed, Zayn blushing shyly. “You know where the craft box is Toby. Go get it for Zayn please. And keep the beads away from Faye!”

Hefting Faye into his lap, Zayn set himself up at the coffee table as Toby went to get said box. Browsing through the items, Zayn helped Toby draw on a mouth with texta. They glued on a tongue and some googly-eyes, both of them laughing as the eyes jiggled. They were having mock wars with the puppets when Zayn became aware of eyes on him. Looking up, Zayn found Niall paused halfway down the stairs. He was watching Zayn with something akin to fondness and Zayn just didn’t know what to do about that. In the end he gave an awkward wave, Niall sending his eyes skyward before jumping down the last of the stairs.

“Alright Princess Jasmine, let’s get this dinner started before the kids starve!”

***

“Do you know you’d make the ultimate DILF?”

Zayn abruptly sat up in bed, staring down at where he knew Niall was lying. “Excuse me?”

“You,” Niall offered, hand coming to stroke his neck tenderly and how did Niall even see so well in the dark? Was it a weird traveller skill? “Watching you today with Toby…You were good with him.”

“I have little sisters,” Zayn reasoned, settling back down but making the distance between him and Niall in the shared bed quite clear – obviously Mary had assumed they didn’t mind sharing or she thought they were something more than they were. “I’ve had practice.”

Niall then obliterated his strategic move by worming closer, head resting on Zayn’s arm. “Think practice would have been nice. I only had Greg and there were so many years between us…Just…I’m no good with kids, you know?”

Zayn shook his head. “Nah, bet you’d be great. You’ve got patience. You’re fun. They’d fucking swarm to you.”

“Mmm, but you’ve got the whole package. You’ve got the looks and the cooks.”

Zayn snorted. “The cooks? What is that then?”

“Means you can cook,” Niall griped, clearly upset he hadn’t caught on to that. “That rice you made tonight? Fucking hell. Could have devoured the whole lot.”

“Think you tried,” Zayn snickered, hissing when Niall pinched him.

“Amazing though, seriously. Your dad’s recipe?”

Zayn blinked. “How…” He then shook his head. “Right, I was gonna ask how you knew that but you’ve probably been through South Asia a bunch of times. Got a feel for the food and all.”

“Aha. You make it just as good.” Tugging the duvet higher, Niall burrowed further into Zayn’s neck. “You are a terrible pillow. You’re too bony.”

Niall then yelped as he was abruptly pushed to the other side of the bed. “Good, then that means you can leave me the fuck alone.”

“…you love me really.”

“Yeah, I really…don’t.”

Needless to say, Niall whacked him with a pillow for that. They then settled down to sleep, not on opposite sides of the bed but not touching either. It was enough.

And, compared to where they’d been a week ago, it was a miracle.

***

In a way unbeknownst to Zayn, he and Niall had spent another whole day and night at Mary’s. They’d been studying maps at the dining table in the morning and working on their next route, Toby jumping from lap to lap, when Faye had taken a tumble and bumped her head on the bottom step. Mary had panicked, already frazzled because she needed to get Toby to nursery. But with Faye crying and Mary having to hold an ice-pack to her forehead, she looked at her wits end until Niall had so graciously offered that they could walk Toby to the nursery – it was only across the road and down a bit. Mary could even watch from the front door. The woman had been stunned before sheer desperation had won out, directing Zayn to where Toby’s lunch was in the fridge while sending Niall to find his shoes. She was calling the nursery even as they walked across the road, Toby between them with his hands in theirs, hopping along gaily and looking very much like he thought this was the coolest thing ever. Passing the boy onto his teacher, who was still on the phone to Mary and laughing, she’d shooed them off and off they’d gone.

Over a plate of biscuits Mary explained that her husband had had to go and visit family quite urgently abroad and would be back on the weekend. He’d already been gone a month though and there was a list of jobs she had prepared for when he came back. Without awaiting invitation, Niall snatched up the list and declared that he and Zayn could do them, to pay off the hospitality they’d been shown. Really, the poor woman didn’t even stand a chance at refusing, not with Niall being Niall.

Zayn wasn’t the best handyman but it turned out Niall wasn’t either, a little too clumsy and Zayn couldn’t count the number of times he’d caught him just before he’d done something stupid or reckless. But it had been fun and they’d knocked off most of the list before heading down to the shops and doing the groceries because Mary had needed to but hadn’t been too keen to wrestle Faye in and out of a car in the pouring rain. So they’d gone and zipped back, being ejected from the kitchen upon their return because “I need to do something in my own house! Sit down, you’re making me guilty!”. They’d ended up holing down in their room, Niall going through his photos on his Mac while Zayn squeezed in a nap, making up for lost sleep.

Then it was tea, another night in a warm bed, a send-off breakfast, topped with hugs from each member of the O’Murphy family and then they were gone. It was a long drive back to Dublin and with their flight booked for first thing the next morning, they really had to motor.

“So,” Niall prompted as they drove down the endless motorway. “Was that so terrible Princess?”

“Yes,” was Zayn’s automatic answer, Niall not even bothering to take it seriously, waiting for Zayn to compose a real answer. “It was…guess it were different, I s’pose. Don’t know if I liked it but…don’t know that I didn’t either?”

“I get it,” Niall assured. “But hey, you’ve done it. And come out alive on the other side!”

“Wasn’t sure for awhile there,” Zayn admitted.

Niall winced. “Yeah, me neither to be honest. Thought I’d kill you those first few days.”

“Then you decided to jerk me off,” Zayn reminded him, acting so casual that Niall was the one to flush. “Think that made you more tolerable.”

Niall barked out a laugh. “Ha! Sorry mate, but that had nothing to do with me. You became more tolerable. Probably ‘cause your balls weren’t busting to explode. Not gonna lie, thought you’d get action all the time, what with you being you and all.”

Zayn grit his teeth. “You know why I can’t.”

Their car actually swerved. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

Zayn made a gesture that was as careless as he could manage. “Just…can never be sure who’s going to kiss and tell.”

For once, Niall had no answer to that.

***

Freshly showered, bags packed and lined up against the wall, Zayn was itching to get back to London. He wanted to tell Liam, Louis, and Harry about everything he’d done, reel off his stories. Maybe he’d even convince Niall to let him go through his photos, pick out a couple of the ones he wanted, perhaps go so far as to let him keep them.

Speaking of Niall, Zayn let out a whoosh of air as the blond abruptly dropped onto his waist, hair dripping from his shower and dressed in nothing but a pair of briefs. “Niall!” Zayn shrieked, clapping his hands over his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You.” Zayn’s eyes snapped open only to see Niall adopt a feral grin. “Well, actually, rather have you do me. If you know what I mean.” He raised an eyebrow at Zayn’s silence. “I assume you know what I mean. I don’t have to talk you through this, do I?”

Zayn stared up at him in stunned disbelief. “Are you…Are you actually suggesting we fuck?”

“No need to be so crass,” Niall teased. “I’m not so unfortunate to look at. And I know you know that you’re not. So, we good?”

“No,” Zayn said firmly, eyes steeling over. “We’re…Jesus, I’m gonna say friends, but we only just got there. Don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“That’s sweet,” Niall murmured, leaning down to trace his ear with his tongue, making Zayn’s body shudder. “But this could only really make things better. Unwind you, let off some steam, and hey, you know I won’t tell. Even if it’s just for tonight, let me be your good time.”

And, fuck…”Okay,” Zayn gasped, grabbing Niall’s chin and tilting it towards his face. “Just tonight,” he bargained, waiting for Niall’s nod before surging forward. His lips met Niall’s and Niall was all too happy to give in turn. He kissed back almost feverishly, lips harsh and sucking, teeth occasionally clacking against Zayn’s and dammit it was all too much but fuck if Zayn was going to give in. This was what he was craving, groaning as his fingers brushed against the stubble on Niall’s face. It had been too long since he’d been here, hands swapping to Niall’s shoulders and digging in as the other man began to grind his hips down.

Pulling away, Niall made short work of Zayn’s tee, tossing it somewhere over the side of the bed before he started to map out Zayn’s tattoos with his tongue. Zayn hissed at the contact, squirming as he was torn before leaning into the touch or moving away from it. “So many,” Niall muttered before latching into the skull on Zayn’s right collarbone.

“Fuck,” Zayn whined, revelling in the pain and then the soothing balm of Niall’s tongue as he eased his teeth out. His own hands came to slide down Niall’s back, thrumming over every vertebrae before reaching the waistband of Niall’s briefs. “Off, yeah? Come on Ni’, off.”

Whether it was the nickname or the imperious tugging, Niall quickly did as asked, cock slapping against his stomach. Eyeing up the marks he’d made with pride, Niall sent Zayn a sloping grin. “Here’s what I’m thinking. You open me up, get me nice and open and wet-”

Zayn whimpered.

“-and then I ride you. Sound good to you?”

Zayn couldn’t do anything else but nod, practically yanking his pants and briefs off when Niall slipped off to find the lube and a condom. Moaning appreciatively at the sight, Niall wasted no time in coming back to the bed, passing the lube to Zayn and continuing his teasing ministrations until Zayn’s fingers were slick and pressing against his rim. “Okay?” Zayn asked, vibrating with need already.

“I’ll be more okay when you’re inside,” Niall shot back snarkily, head snapping back in pleasure when Zayn did exactly that. “Yes, just like that,” he moaned, pushing down against Zayn’s finger and encouraging him to go deeper. Zayn was only too happy to comply, entranced with every one of Niall’s reactions, the way his back curved when Zayn added another finger, the way he shuddered when Zayn’s fingers just brushed over that spot inside him, the way his pupils were blown wide open, eyes so, so dark.

Three fingers in and mercilessly rubbing at Niall prostrate, Zayn groaned in frustration when Niall batted him away. “Oh hush,” he chided lightly, holding up the condom. “Unless, you know, you don’t want to…”

“I want to!” Zayn cried frantically, pouting when Niall smiled a tad too smugly. He then rolled the condom on Zayn’s length, fondling his balls once the rubber was fully sheathed. “Fucking hell, don’t,” Zayn choked out, shaking his head. “Not how I wanna come.”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how do you want to come?”

Tilting his hips, Zayn watched in satisfaction as Niall’s eyes slipped shut at the feeling of Zayn’s cock rubbing against his arse. “Yeah, like that. Just how you want it.”

“No arguments there,” Niall agreed, lifting himself up before guiding the head of Zayn’s cock to his entrance, breath hitching as it caught at the rim. “Gonna ride you so good, make you see stars.” With that, he sunk down all the way in one go, Zayn crying out at the explosion of feelings. His body felt like it was burning, overwhelmed by the tight heat of having Niall around him. Niall looked much the same, hands planted on Zayn’s chest as he took several deep breaths. He then gave Zayn a wink. “You ready?”

Zayn didn’t think he would ever be ready, groaning as Niall began to move, slowly at first until he seemed to find a pace he was comfortable at. Zayn couldn’t look away, never wanted to lose the image of Niall fucking Horan on top of him, skin glistening with sweat, cock bouncing against his stomach, and Zayn could only jerk his hips up, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Niall let out a cry as the change in momentum caused Zayn to hit his prostrate dead on, eyes sinking shut in ecstasy.

“Come on Malik,” he challenged. “Send me over.”

Letting his fingers smear through the pre-come on Niall’s stomach, Zayn used it to slick his fingers up before wrapping them around Niall’s length. Niall openly whined, the sound hitting a pitch well outside of Zayn’s vocal range. Twisting and pumping, Zayn’s thumb dipped into the slit, Niall’s body jerking in response. “That’s it Horan. So close, you’re so close. Come on.”

One harsh thrust up and Niall was coming, clenching around Zayn and that was all it took for Zayn to come too, shooting his load hard into the condom. His vision blacked at the edges and Niall was hardly much better, forearms braced on Zayn’s chest as he panted heavily. Zayn’s fingers combed through his matted hair and Niall sunk into the touch, moaning appreciatively. “Fuck, you’re good. Mental even.”

Zayn chuckled. “Think that’s the orgasm talking Sunshine. Although, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Niall swatted him over the head, face grimacing in discomfort as he pulled off Zayn’s cock. He then held out a hand. “Shower?” Zayn raised an eyebrow, Niall bopping his nose. “Fine, even though we just had mind-blowing sex, shower? I promise no funny business. Hands above the belt.”

And really, how could Zayn ever say no?

***

Touching down in London, it took Zayn less than two seconds to spot the car Liam had sent for him. He’d had to call Liam several times and reschedule as weather had kept their plane delayed and delayed until they’d been lucky to get away just before midnight, meaning they’d spent an entire day in the airport. Zayn just wanted to go home. Turning to say goodbye to Niall, Zayn frowned as he recognised the background of booking.com open on Niall’s phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for a hotel,” Niall supplied, as if it were obvious.

Zayn frowned. “But…can’t you stay with Ed?”

“America.”

There was a terseness there and Zayn wondered if it was because Niall was tired or because his best friend was gone, or perhaps if it was even a combination of the two. His driver honked the horn impatiently and Zayn swore before clasping his hand around Niall’s wrist, dragging him towards the car. “In. You’re coming back to mine.”

Niall balked but it was too late, Zayn already had him shoved in the back and was following in after him. Niall sulked but Zayn was too exhausted to care, barely remembering to thank his driver before clambering out at his building. Riding up to his floor, Zayn unlocked the door before waving Niall in. Niall looked apprehensive, frozen on the doorstep.

“Niall, now, before the cat runs out.” That got Niall moving, jumping inside and letting Zayn shut the door. “I’ve got two guest rooms,” Zayn explained, leading Niall in the opposite direction of his bedroom. “You can pick either, I don’t mind. One gets the morning sun, one doesn’t.”

“Uh, the one that doesn’t, I suppose,” Niall said, looking more uncomfortable than Zayn would ever have imagined at being in his flat. “And sorry, but why does one person need all this room?”

“I probably don’t,” Zayn replied offhandedly, “But I can afford it and I liked it so that’s that.”

“Do you have a clothes room?” Niall asked, more curious than nervous now, dumping his gear down on the end of the bed Zayn had informed him was his.

“Mmhmm,” Zayn hummed, counting on his fingers: “Walk in robe in the master, walk in robe in the other bedroom, and then the place came with an office but I’ve had that converted for all my clothes and shoes.”

Niall whistled lowly. “Jesus Christ.”

“Wake me whenever, or don’t, I couldn’t care less.”

With that, Zayn made his way back to his own room, stepping into his ensuite and feeling so, so glad to be back under his own shower, the water pressure exactly how he liked it. He washed his hair twice for good measure, conditioned it thrice, and then found his most comfortable pair of pyjamas, something outrageously priced from Alexander McQueen if he wasn’t mistaken. Raja’s head popped up as Zayn climbed into bed, trilling happily and curling up against his chest, head resting on one of Zayn’s arms while the other one bracketed him in. Zayn was right on the verge of sleep when he heard a noise from the end of his bed.

“…Zayn?”

He groaned. “What Niall? ‘m sleeping.”

“…share?”

“You what?!”

“Come on,” Niall wheedled, voice shifting as though he was now beside Zayn rather than at his feet. “We’ve spent a week together and I don’t like sleeping alone. Please?”

Against his will, Zayn held up the corner of the duvet, Niall squeaking in delight. “Disturb us and you’re out.”

“Us?” Niall repeated, confused.

Right on cue, Raja meowed, as if chastising Zayn for being so noisy at this time of night. “Yes, us. Me and Raja.” Zayn then realised what he’d done, swearing.

“Raja?!” There was no hiding the glee in Niall’s voice. “Please tell me your cat’s name is actually Raja.”

“Shut. Up.”

“It is! Princess Jasmine indeed.” Zayn went to hit him but Niall settled before he could, snuffling into the back of Zayn’s neck. “But alright, sleep. See you in the morning Princess.”

Unbidden, a smile crept onto Zayn’s face. “You too.”

***

Chapter Text

The thermostat ticking off was what eventually woke Zayn. Stirring, he yawned widely before tugging the duvet a little higher and burying his face in his pillow. Even if he was awake, that didn’t mean he had to get up. A sound he couldn’t place came from behind him. Zayn would have let it go, had his bed not also then moved as if someone else was in it. Blearily opening his eyes, Zayn looked over his shoulder. He then groaned. How could he forget?

“Mornin’!” Niall chirped, Zayn only groaning again.

“Shh, it’s too early,” he complained.

Niall snorted. “No such thing. It’s almost midday you lazy sod.”

Zayn cracked open an eye. “I’m not the only one still in bed here.”

Niall conceded the point with a thoughtful nod, though he’d clearly been up at one point because a cup of tea was balanced precariously on his lap, along with his laptop, his camera off to the side. Zayn was about to warn him against spilling it when his jaw dropped at the one other thing in Niall’s lap.

“H-How did you get him to do that?!”

Niall blinked, obviously taken aback by Zayn’s volume. He then followed Zayn’s pointing finger, making a tiny noise of acknowledgment when he found Raja to be the subject of Zayn’s query. “Do what?” he questioned, scratching the cat under the chin and making him purr loudly.

“That!” Zayn insisted, stabbing his finger at his beloved pet. “He doesn’t like anyone except me! The cleaner complains daily that he bites her ankles! He fucks off the second Harry and Louis come here and whenever they try to find him-” Which was every time “-he hisses and scratches them. Raja barely tolerates Liam. And by tolerates I mean sits on the opposite side of the room and just stares at him until he leaves.”

“No,” Niall gasped in mock-horror, booping Raja’s nose. “You would never do that, would you?”

Zayn reached for his phone, taking a video and sending it through to the others. “Never believe this,” he muttered, “They’ll never believe this.”

“So…I take it “private” only refers to you then.”

Zayn froze at Niall’s question, suddenly realising what he’d done. “Shit!” He looked up at Niall pleadingly. “Sorry, I didn’t think! That was weird right, and creepy?”

Niall huffed in exasperation, returning to his computer. “God Zayn, learn to take a joke. I don’t mind. Besides, I take photos of you for a living. If that’s not weird, what is?”

“Not your entire living,” Zayn corrected absently, stretching his limbs, not blind to the way Niall followed the action intently. “I’m sure Harry and I barely scratch the surface.”

“You’d be surprised how much you pay me,” Niall said, waggling his eyebrows. “And I took photos of you in Ireland and that wasn’t work so I guess we’re even.” He then smirked and Zayn didn’t like that – at all. “I do have to wonder though, are Harry and them going to be able to tell this is your flat and that I’m in it?”

Zayn froze.

“Do they know that this-” he gestured to the duvet on his lap with raised eyebrows, “-is your bed?”

With dread, Zayn picked up his phone and…fuck. Niall was right.

How is he doing that???
Wait…is that YOUR bed?
That’s your bed
Zayn
ZAYN
ZAYN JAVADD MALIK!!!!

Why is Niall in your bed?
Not that he’s not allowed to be there.
Good that you sorted things.

Niall has tamed the demon beast!!! That boy is magic
…that boy is also in your bed
Was there magic in your bed last night ;)
Hate-sex?!?! Was he good!!!
Don’t ignore me Zaynie!

Running a hand down his face, Zayn messaged them all back, “Yes Niall is here. No sex. Now fuck off.”

Ignoring the next influx of messages, Zayn propped himself up on his pillows, watching Niall…well, work he supposed. He supposed that for Niall sorting through hundreds upon hundreds of photos was work.

“If you want any, just say so,” Niall said, not even looking up from the screen, though he paused long enough to sip his tea. He scrolled through another bunch, shaking his head. “Just wanna upload all of them.”

“Then do it,” Zayn replied, delighted when Raja chose that moment to jump back into his lap, coming to sniff Zayn’s nose.

“Fuck that’s cute,” Niall muttered, Zayn hearing a shutter sound, recognising this one as an iPhone rather than an actual camera. Niall didn’t even ask before forwarding him the photo. He then gestured to his computer once more. “As for uploading them all, can’t. I can only post a maximum of three photos a week. Apparently I’m abusing Instagram if I do; scamming their money and all. Also, if I consistently get below one million likes on my photos for twelve uploads – what’s that? About a month? – then my contract’s over.”

Zayn stared at him, speechless. “What, seriously?”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Well, they can’t pay me forever can they? And if I’m not popular they’re not going to sponsor me. Though…Getting likes isn’t a problem at the moment,” he admitted, bashfully scratching at his cheek. “Uh…yours and Harry’s fans are helping out a bit there. Gained a fuckton of followers from them so that’s good. It’s all business in the end, isn’t it?”

It was odd to hear Niall talk like that because he sounded almost business savvy and that was something Zayn had never really associated with him before. Their conversation was put on hold though when Zayn’s phone started to buzz with a reminder. Looking at the screen, Zayn smacked his head back against the headboard, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Zayn didn’t reply, climbing out of bed and making for his closet, strolling down the racks of clothes. “It’s time for me to “do business”,” he sighed, picking out some jeans and a shirt. The jacket he had in mind was missing, probably in one of the other rooms.

“Work?” Niall repeated in confusion, checking his own phone. “I’m not-”

“Publicity,” Zayn corrected, missing how Niall’s expression shut down as he fussed with his hair. “Perrie and I are going to stroll down Oxford Street, apparently. Like’s that romantic,” he finished sarcastically.

“You still going out with her?”

Zayn frowned at the sharp edge Niall’s tone had taken. “Kind of have to. We have a contract; I can’t just walk away in the middle of it.”

Niall fiddled with the cable connecting his laptop to the camera. “How long is this…arrangement?”

“Two months,” Zayn said, discarding his pyjamas and changing into the outfit he’d chosen.

“Doesn’t that mean it’s about to run out?” Niall pressed, looking up from his phone where Zayn could only imagine he’d been doing calculations. “You guys have been out together for awhile.”

“We have a meeting next Friday,” Zayn told him, doing up his jeans before moving to the buttons on his shirt. “From there we’ll decide if we end it or keep it going.”

“And will you?”

And just like, with one sharp, icy question, every bit of anger and resentment Zayn had felt a week prior came rushing back. “Think that’s none of your business,” he snapped. “And it’s not just my decision. Everyone gets a say.”

“Only you don’t speak up.” Niall was eyeing him up coolly and Zayn felt his hackles rise. “You let them push you around; I can tell. You wouldn’t be this miserable if you were “okay with it”, like you always assure everyone you are. You’re lying.”

“Maybe I am,” Zayn murmured, anger dissipating as his throat closed over, hands shaking as they came to grip the top of his dresser. “But like you said, it’s all business.”

“This isn’t business!” Niall cried, finally getting to his feet, hands clenched into fists. “This is someone’s life! You’re fucking with each other’s emotions, playing a game neither of you want to!”

“I know!” Zayn screamed, stumbling back as tears started to slide down his face. “Trust me, I know.”

“Oh shit,” Niall breathed, rushing forward and bringing Zayn into his arms. “Zayn, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he whimpered pathetically.

“Then tell them,” Niall pleaded, cupping Zayn’s face in his hands and kissing his cheek affectionately. “Tell them you can’t do it anymore. Call them, now. Say you’re sick, can’t make it. You don’t have to do this Zayn.”

Shaking his head, Zayn pulled back, wiping away the evidence of his crying. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

Niall took two steps back, the distance between them feeling infinite. “Right then. You do that. Have fun Zayn.”

Shoulders drooping, Zayn collected his phone before going in search of his jacket. Some part of him told him as he closed the door to his flat that an argument was all he had to look forward to when he got home. Great.

***

Strolling down Oxford Street had probably been one of Zayn’s favourite outings with Perrie if he was being honest. For the most part he could almost forget she was there, focusing on shopping and also a little game he and Louis had. Not a game in the true sense, but more that Zayn would find the most outrageous, hideous piece of clothing he could, gift it to Harry, and then watch Louis try to hide his revulsion every time Harry wore it. Needless to say, Zayn had sported bruises many a time from Louis punching him in retaliation.

Perrie had spent her time talking about Little Mix’s upcoming world tour, Zayn listening as she rattled off place after place they would be going. She picked up a couple of things to take but admitted most of her outfits had already been designed and packed so shopping was kind of redundant. By the time she got back to the UK, summer would be in full swing and there would be no need for winter clothes. Zayn had agreed and he actually probably would have enjoyed the afternoon had not the impending fight with Niall been consuming his mind. Perrie had noticed, squeezing his hand once in an attempt to reassure him, even if she didn’t know what was wrong. Zayn hoped the paps got that shot because he hadn’t allowed a repeat of the gesture, as kind-hearted as it was.

It was because of that that Zayn had delayed getting home for as long as possible. He’d strolled through Covent Garden, camped out at a Starbucks, and even stopped by his gym to do an intense session – he hadn’t been in a while and the guilt was starting to gnaw away at him.

Finally arriving back at his flat, Zayn unlocked it, kicking the door shut behind him as he dumped everything onto the hall table. The first thing Zayn noticed was the total darkness. The second was the lack of noise.

“Niall?”

Raja came running at the sound of his voice but there was no other response. Frowning, Zayn marched to his bedroom, head poking in and coming up empty. His bed was pristinely made, covers straightened in the way only his cleaner could achieve. With quick steps Zayn headed to the room he’d given Niall last night.

Empty.

It was completely empty. Not a single trace of Niall was left in the room. His backpack was gone, his devices and accompanying cables missing, his bed untouched. Bewildered, Zayn unlocked his phone. There was an alert for Instagram and when Zayn looked he found it be one of Niall’s photos from Ireland. It had been uploaded before Zayn had left for his “date” with Perrie though so that wasn’t an explanation. Brow furrowed, he opened a new text.

Niall?

He tapped his fingernails against the wall as he made his way back to kitchen, impatiently waiting for a response as he started preparing dinner. Eventually his phone went off, Zayn opening the text. When he did, his heart plummeted.

Greece

Nothing more. Just one word. A week together and that was all Niall had to say. No goodbye, no sorry for having to leave in a hurry. Just “Greece”. Zayn wanted to believe that Niall was doing to him what he did to Ed, keeping him updated but he could sense the frostiness even through the phone. This wasn’t a simple pin drop on a map. No, this was Niall making it very clear that he didn’t want to talk.

Hours ago Zayn had been dreading an argument. Now he’d give anything to get one. Because then at least Niall would be here.

Looking out across his empty flat, the size suddenly seemed daunting rather than refreshing. The loneliness that came with it hit him like a brick, Zayn’s façade crumpling. Flipping off the stove, he grabbed his coat and slammed the door shut behind him. Calling a taxi as he hopped into the lift, Zayn shifted his weight restlessly at the door until he saw it pull up, jumping into the back and rattling off Liam’s address.

Twenty minutes later Zayn was rapping his knuckles on the door, chin tucked into his collar and hands stuffed into his coat pockets. He made for a pathetic sight and he knew it, not even bothering to hide it because what was the point? The door in front of him was opened and Zayn found himself face-to-face with a slightly breathless Liam. His hair and skin were wet, a towel wrapped around his waist and Zayn realised he must have run from the shower.

“Sorry?” he offered meekly.

Liam frowned. “What’s happened now?”

Zayn opened his mouth to answer when Dani rounded the corner, similarly dressed in a towel. Zayn’s eyes swapped between them both and-…oh. “Sorry,” he stammered, starting to back away. “It’s nothing Li’. I…I’ll leave you two-”

“Liam, pull the poor boy in,” Dani ordered lightly, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go dry my hair or else it’ll be a nightmare in the morning. Feel free to yell at him; I won’t hear a thing.”

Zayn chuckled, waving Dani off before cowering under Liam’s look. The younger man sighed heavily, grabbing two green smoothies from the fridge, passing one to Zayn before sitting on his couch. “Zayn…why are you here?”

“Can’t I visit my friend?” Zayn tried, knowing he’d failed tremendously when Liam sent him a flat look.

“Not without a phone call first…and the fact that it’s dead late on a Wednesday night and you were up all hours of the night. So…”

Zayn recapped his smoothie, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly. “Think Niall’s angry at me.”

Liam’s head cocked to the side. “Why would you say that? He seemed alright with you this morning judging from that video.”

Zayn swallowed thickly, fingers tightening in his jeans. “That’s what I thought too. And then we…well we didn’t fight but…”

“Zayn,” Liam groaned in exasperation. “I thought you’d gotten over that.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Zayn cried, swearing when his eyes immediately welled up, hurt by Liam’s accusation.

Liam’s eyes widened, hastily scampering to Zayn’s side, drawing him in and rocking him gently. “Shit, sorry Zee, sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. That was a downright awful thing to do.” He combed his fingers through Zayn’s hair gently. “Sorry, again.”

“’s alright,” Zayn mumbled, curling into Liam’s side.

“So…what did happen?” he prompted.

A shrug. “I don’t know. Like, he got pissed at me…I think because I had to go meet up with Perrie?” Liam frowned. “I said it were for work. And it was! But he just…Felt like he thought it was my fault,” Zayn whispered, burying his face in Liam’s chest. “Like I could have stopped it if I wanted to? Got angry when I wouldn’t say no, when I said I still had to go.”

“Okay, now I feel like even more of an arse,” Liam commented, thumbing Zayn’s shoulder. “Because, no, he doesn’t get to say things like that. You have zero control in this situation Zayn. Yes, you agreed at first but we both know there was a lot of pressure behind that. If you hadn’t have said yes…” He winced. “I don’t know the specifics but yeah…I feel like it wouldn’t have been good.”

Zayn picked at the seam of his jeans. “Still feel like shit.”

“And that’s not alright. I know you’re not happy with your current situation – none of us are – but I never tried to make you feel guilty. I feel sorry for you, as horrible as that is, but you should never be made to feel guilty. I’m sorry Niall made you feel like that.” Liam let his eyes find Zayn. “And did you fight about that?”

Zayn’s nose screwed up. “…no? Like, he was angry when I left and I thought he’d still be angry when I got home but…He was just gone Li’. Not even a goodbye note or anything. It was like he was never there at all.”

“…that’s it?”

Zayn pulled away, mouth dropping open at Liam’s unimpressed face. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

Liam whacked him. “Zayn, you looked like someone had murdered your puppy when you turned up here. I was expecting something to have actually happened not, oh Niall’s gone again. He always does that. When does he ever stick around? I actually think he’s incapable of staying in a single place for more than two days.” He shook his head, gathering up their bottles, offering Zayn the last of his before he chucked it. “I don’t even get why you’re surprised.”

Liam walked away, Zayn watching him desperately because he knew why. He knew why this upset him so much, why it was burning a hole in his chest but he didn’t know if he could say but… “…I fucked him.”

Liam abruptly dropped the bottles, sparing them not even a glance as he turned around oh so slowly. “Excuse me?”

Zayn sunk down into the back of the sofa. “I…he asked if I wanted to and I…?” Zayn waved a hand helplessly. “I just…”

“Jesus Christ,” Liam muttered, running a hand down his face and then coming to crouch at eye-level with him. “You slept with him?” A nod. “Niall initiated it?” Another nod. “And you knowingly and without pressure gave your consent?” One last nod, even if this one was accompanied by a blush. Liam let out a whoosh of air. “And here I was thinking you two together was a good thing.”

“It was,” Zayn whispered, very much avoiding Liam’s piercing eyes as he traced the sofa’s damask pattern. “I…we really did have fun Liam. Properly.”

“Can you look into my eyes and say that?”

Zayn let their eyes meet, holding Liam’s gaze steadily. “I enjoyed it, really. It weren’t so bad after a bit and…Niall’s pretty alright.”

“When he’s not fucking you and then slipping out like a one night stand.” Zayn wilted at Liam’s harsh tone. “Can I ask when you did…that?”

“Monday night,” Zayn supplied. “Then last night we got in late and Niall had nowhere to stay so I took him back to mine? Gave him the guest room but he said he wanted to bunk with me?”

Liam’s lips pursed. “And now he’s taken off.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, dick move. Because you two clearly haven’t talked about this and I think you need to.”

“That’s the thing though,” Zayn said, leaning over to tidy a piece of hair that Liam had disturbed in his constant raking through it. “Don’t think Niall does need to talk. He thinks it’s all casual. And it is. Was.” Zayn’s fingers dropped away. “Whatever it was, that was it. It’s okay Li’. I don’t want it to be more.”

“And yet it’s upsetting you,” he pointed out frankly.

Zayn conceded that with a nod. “Yeah, it is. But…I think that’s more me being out of sorts. I’ll figure it out.”

Glancing at the time, Liam pulled him to his feet. “Not sure I believe you but you’re welcome to stay tonight. Guest room’s all yours, okay? You know where everything is.”

Zayn wrapped Liam in a hug, muttering a thanks in his ear before padding down the hall. It said volumes to how often they all crashed here because Liam had three small dressers in said room, each one allocated to a different one of them. Moving to the drawers that were his, Zayn pulled out a change of clothes, shucking them on before crawling into bed. There were voices coming from Liam’s room and Zayn let them soothe him to sleep. Just as he was about to drift off, the bed dipped as someone climbed in beside him.

“Shh,” Liam cooed when he whined, “Back to sleep Zee. It’ll be okay; you’ll be alright.”

With Liam tucked against his back, hand warm as it massaged his neck, Zayn let himself believe that. Even if only for a moment.

***

The next time Zayn saw Niall it was back on the job. It had been a week since they’d seen each other and there was a weird air between them. At first Zayn had thought it was just him because Niall wasn’t acting so very different but once Harry had asked if everything was okay between them – because Zayn had only told him and Louis about the highlights of his trip to Ireland and not the bizarrely dismal end – he’d known something was up.

They’d been sent down to an old Underground station, long since closed and blocked off from the public but available to them. Louis was griping, annoyed that whoever was organising this was dragging them into somewhere dark only to then flood said area with lights. It made for awful lighting, showing up every flaw in his make-up, not that there were any. But God forbid Zayn or Harry actually tell him that.

“Louis,” Niall called as Louis swore for what had to be the hundredth time. “It’s fine.”

“What would you know?” Louis snapped, breathing sharply through his nostrils. “You’ve got the easy job.”

Zayn was about to point out that Niall had to battle the conditions too, change shutter speeds and isotope levels – there may have been a very long and in depth rant one day in the car – when Niall replied with, “Careful. You’re starting to sound like Zayn.”

Zayn’s expression shut down, arms folding tightly because he’d been ready to defend the Irish prat. “Fuck off Niall.”

“Ah!” Liam warned when Niall went to speak, jumping between them. “No. You two sorted this and we are not going through that whole rigmarole again.”

“Once was enough,” Harry agreed, pouting at Niall…which, huh. Zayn was impressed, especially since Niall looked caught off guard. “Come on Ni’. Zayn hasn’t had a single go at you today. Bit uncalled for mate.”

“Harry, you’re wonderful but if you don’t drop that expression and let me finish this…”

Harry obediently let his pout go, holding still as Louis tilted his face up, comparing the shades of lip-stick sampled on the back of his hand to Harry’s complexion under the lighting. “And sorry Niall, didn’t mean it. Know this isn’t ideal for you either.”

“Thanks,” Niall said sincerely, reaching the platform’s edge and jumping down, inspecting the abandoned tube car to his right. “They gonna go in here? That’ll be fun.”

Zayn toed the edge of the platform warily. “Doesn’t sound like fun.”

A snort came from down the track. “Nothing ever does with you.”

Liam was batted away before he could even begin to rein Zayn in, his dark eyes alight with fury. “You got a fucking problem with me Horan? If you do, come back here and say it to my face.”

“That would require me getting close to your face.”

Liam, Harry, and Louis were all looking at Zayn in bewilderment but Zayn was just as lost. Niall had never been like this, not even on their worst days and Zayn had expected everything to be better between them. This…this was the exact opposite of what he thought would have happened.

“’s okay Li’,” he murmured when Liam squeezed his shoulder consolingly. “Just…let me go talk to him, yeah?”

Liam bit his lip, clearly unsure as to whether or not that was the best idea. Eventually though, he raised his hands. “Alright. But quickly, understand?”

Zayn wasn’t an idiot, knowing that “quickly” was code for “don’t make this worse please”.  Slipping down to the tracks, Zayn picked his way over the stones towards where Niall could clearly be heard tinkering. At the bottom of the steps Zayn hesitated, wondering how to do this. He was angry, he was hurt, but most of all, he was confused. And since that was the only option that wasn’t going to lead to him fighting with Niall or crying, Zayn went with confused, uncertainly tapping on the door.

“Niall? I…I don’t know why we’re not friends anymore but I…I’m sorry. I’ll do my job and you won’t have to talk to me; promise I won’t snap back.” Teetering on his toes, Zayn’s bottom lip trembled traitorously before he added in a whisper, “And sorry, again, I guess.”

“Fuck. Zayn, no, I-” Niall was scrambling through the car, making to grab Zayn’s arm but he shied away. “Zayn, I’m sorry. I-”

“No,” Zayn said firmly, holding up a hand, closing himself off because he had to. He couldn’t do this; he couldn’t play this game. “Unless it’s about work, I don’t want to hear it. Harry’s done. Go play with him. You always did like him better,” he finished snidely, stomping away.

Niall’s frustrated groan could be heard from behind him but Zayn didn’t care.

Or at least, he told himself he didn’t.

***

“Zayn!”

Zayn’s hand was fisting in Liam’s sleeve the second he heard Niall call his name. Liam was right there, wrapping his hand around Zayn’s in support and eyeing Niall off almost coolly. “Niall, we’re heading home. It’s been a long day for these boys; they’ve earnt their night off.”

Zayn curled into Liam’s side appreciatively, Niall scuffing his toe under Liam’s glare and Zayn couldn’t help but grin, glad that for once someone else was on the receiving end of that look. God knows he’d been the recipient more often than not lately.

“I’m sorry,” Niall stressed, eyes wide and pleading. “I know what I did wasn’t fair and I know I was throwing Zayn shit he didn’t deserve. But that’s why I need to talk to him. Please.”

The “please” was aimed at Zayn and he could feel Liam’s gaze on his face, boring holes into his cheek. Untangling himself, he kissed Liam’s cheek swiftly, melting ever so slightly when Liam returned the gesture without thought. “You can go Li’. I’ll talk to him.”

Liam frowned. “I can wait outside?”

“Should all of us?” Harry asked, watching from the bottom step, clearly having been leaving with Louis when Niall’s call had pulled him up.

“Yeah, damage control and all that,” Louis agreed. “If someone starts screaming murder we can come and help.”

Zayn eyed up Niall coldly, satisfied by how his eyes slid to the floor. “Don’t think anyone’s gonna kill anyone. You lot can go.”

“If you’re sure…?” Harry pressed.

“Haz, he said it were fine. Now come on, I promised to make you dinner.”

Harry lit up at that, following Louis blindly. Liam looked incredibly displeased but he did leave, though not without making it very clear to Zayn that he was to call him the second they were done, keep him up to date. Zayn nodded, watching Liam go before turning back to Niall, very aware of how alone they were.

“Is this the part where you apologise or the part where you rip into me?” he asked stonily, studying his nail beds in a bored fashion.

“Neither,” Niall remarked, grabbing Zayn and pushing him into the wall, back thudding against the tiles. “This is the part where I kiss you.”

Zayn barely had time to process the words before Niall’s lips were on his. The kiss was harsh, nips and bites, desperate and raw. Zayn didn’t know what to think, hands bunching in Niall’s shirt, debating whether to push him away or kiss back. Niall’s knee then shifted between his thighs and there was really only one choice after that. Hauling Niall closer, Zayn kissed back with just as much intensity, groaning at each bite and forcing his way into Niall’s mouth, prying his lips open and slipping his tongue inside. Niall let him, sucking on his tongue while his hands came to tangle in Zayn’s hair, pinning him in place.

“Fucking hell Zayn,” Niall gasped, breaking away and swapping to his neck, Zayn keening at the pinch of teeth against sensitive skin. “You…you drive me wild.”

“You’re the wild one,” Zayn shot back, hissing at a particularly sharp bite. “Jesus, let up Horan.”

“Can’t,” Niall croaked, hands swapping to clutch at his shoulders. The next words, however, were not what Zayn was expecting. “If I let up now, you disappear. Don’t want that. Need you here, with me. Here where you’re real.”

Zayn frowned, pushing him away sternly. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I want you.”

Zayn started. “You…you what?”

“Zayn,” Niall whined, kneading his forehead. “I…Are all you models thick? And blind? I lost count of how many times I told you you’re beautiful. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve stared at you knowing you know I’m watching you. I slept with you Zayn, thought that made it obvious.”

“…you openly said you sleep around,” Zayn stated, so, so confused. “And yet I just…I’m supposed to know that, what? That means you like me? You don’t like me. You hate me!”

“And that’s the problem!” Niall cried, looking every bit as torn as Zayn felt. “Because I like the you that comes out in private, the one that has fun and cares for his friends and snuggles with his cat. The one that jumps out of buses and stands in the rain just so a little boy gets his toy. But all I see eighty percent of the time is this bullshit persona and I hate that side of you!”

“I-”

“I know why you have it!” Niall interrupted, daring him to challenge. “And I would give anything to date the person that you’re going to be when it drops…but I can’t be the person that makes it drop. I can’t ask you to do that for me…but until you do…I can’t like you. And that…” Niall’s head dropped. “That’s why I can’t be around you. But it’s also why I can’t stay away from you.”

“I don’t…I’m sorry Niall, but I don’t understand.” And it was true. Because he didn’t.

Niall shook his head, taking a step away. “I think it’s better this way anyway.”

“It’s better, and okay I’m assuming here, that you run every time after you see me because, what? You like me? Is that what you’re saying? Real mature Niall.”

“Well forgive me for never growing out of my awkward teen years,” Niall spat. “It’s not like I had any friends to guide me through it.”

“Yeah, and so you know how shit stumbling through the dark is.” Zayn waited for Niall’s eyes to meet his, his turn to be trapped for once. “And now you’ve left me in the dark. So, explain.”

Niall looked like he wouldn’t, like he would run once more, but at the last second he stood his ground. “Zayn, why do you snap and sneer? Why are you aloof and proud?”

Zayn stiffened, waiting for the shattering blow that would undoubtedly follow, reeling with it never did.

“It’s cause you’re keeping everyone out,” Niall said softly. “You’re angry because you’re stuck in a world you hate. And you resent everyone around you because they’re not. They don’t understand the pain you’re going through. So you hide the good parts of you, try to protect them, keep them pure. One day you’ll be able to show that, when you’re away from this toxic environment. When that happens, I’d like to meet who you are then.”

Slowly, very slowly, the gears clunked over and Zayn got it. “You…The closeting is killing me; or so you think. And you hate who I am because of it. You think I’ll be happier when I’m out, more real. But you don’t want to be the reason I come out.”

“I can’t be,” Niall said, carefully taking Zayn’s hands in his. “I refuse to be the reason you feel pressured to come out. It makes me no better than your stupid PR team.”

“But you’d be there once I did,” Zayn surmised. When Niall nodded, he pulled his hands away sharply. “So, you only want the good times. You don’t want the fight, the hardships, to be there when it all falls to pieces. You won’t be there to run clean-up, damage control. All you want is the token prize at the end.”

Niall paled. “No, that’s not what I-”

“It’s what you meant,” Zayn snapped, turning on his heel. “And so, no. Never in a million years.”

***

Zayn was seated at the same table he’d been seated at two months earlier. The only difference this time was that Liam was noticeably absent. In his place was Perrie and Zayn didn’t think it was any accident that both Liam and Perrie’s agent were noticeably missing. No, this was clearly co-ordinated between both PR teams. Richard was again there, as was Andrew, and a member of Perrie’s team, Colin, was also present. The second he’d walked in the door and seen the arrangement Zayn had very nearly backed out again, hands flying to his phone.

But Richard had waved him in, the look in his eyes telling that leaving now would be a very poor decision. Zayn had gulped, sliding in beside Perrie, unwinding a little at how seemingly at ease she was. They’d exchanged short “hello”s and then Richard had taken up the baton, putting them where they were now.

“It’s all going wonderfully,” he was saying. “The general public seem to love the idea of you two being together. The styles, the looks, the high-profile. It’s exactly the kind of romance they feed off.”

“They can clearly see the chemistry,” Colin added, Zayn’s expression flattening because please, there was none. Dollars? Yes. Chemistry? Not so much. “And I take it you enjoy each other’s company.”

“It’s…fine,” Perrie said, glancing at Zayn like she didn’t quite know what he wanted her to say.

He gave her a tight smile. “No, it’s fine. We have some good times together. Perrie’s very sweet and a lot funnier than I am.”

She laughed. “Not my fault you’re forever uptight. But no, you’re fun too.”

There was an odd sense of satisfaction that came with that, Zayn’s smile morphing into something more genuine. “Yeah? Well that’s good then. Good to know I’m not a giant bore.”

“This is all very good,” Richard praised, watching their interaction with hungry eyes. “It’s clear to me that you two get along, you seem to have a lot in common.” They really…didn’t. “And so…”

Zayn tensed, every drop of good-feeling leaving him as his stomach plummeted.

“We’d like to renew your contract.” Two identical pieces of paper got slid across the table, Perrie picking hers up while Zayn stared at his numbly. “It’s longer this time. We think six months would be an appropriate next step. Make this long term, keep up the idea of young love.”

Six months.

Six months. Half a year.

The words were repeating themselves over and over in Zayn’s head. Another six months of this. His fingers trembled as they reached for the page, missing how Perrie was watching him in concern. He thought back to the past two months, the bleakness that had been consuming him, the dread and guilt that had come before every outing, every pap walk. How he’d had to explain it to his family, his friends, admitting that he was lying but it was okay because it was all for show. Being smothered in both their pity and their disapproval.

And, at the centre of it all, there was the jealousy that to this day burned in his chest from seeing Niall walk down that red carpet with Ed. The ease in which they’d done so. How happy they’d looked even if they weren’t together. Their lack of shame, the openness and honesty in their faces.

In fact, the only thing in the past two months that even had a glimmer of light attached to it was that one week in Ireland. As rough and as bumpy as it had been, and even if it had all gone to hell afterwards, just the fact that he had been able to talk without pressure was enough. Zayn could pick up a rainbow scarf, wrap it around his neck, and declare “me”. He could do that and be met with laughter and a cheesy smile, rather than a sympathetic look from Liam and Louis or a crushed one from Harry because he was just as trapped.

He wanted that. He wanted that freedom. He-

“Mr. Malik.”

They must have been calling his name for some time. Zayn didn’t care though. He opened his mouth to say what he thought but all that came out was a sob. Head downcast, he managed to get it out, voice hoarse and grating: “I want to come out.”

“Mr. Malik, don’t be unreasonable here. That’s not-”

“Alright, enough. I’m not signing either.”

Zayn’s head whipped up to Perrie, everyone else staring at her, stunned. She met their gazes resolutely. “Excuse me Miss Edwards?” Colin asked incredulously.

Perrie shook her head, pushing the papers away. “I was told when I agreed to this that everyone involved wanted to be.” Her eyes flicked in Zayn’s direction. “He doesn’t want to be here. That became clear to me very early on and it’s so obvious now. I’m not going to make myself the reason he’s miserable. This is not what he wants…Which means it’s not what I want either.”

“Miss Edwards,” Richard said, voice so level and condescending that it drew a scowl out of Zayn. “With respect, Zayn is here of his own free-will. We can’t force him to sign anything without his consent.”

She snorted. “With respect, I know you can’t force him. I also know that that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have made life difficult for him, wouldn’t have spread rumours or downplayed his image until he gave in. This industry is ruthless. There are always ways for you to get what you want.” Perrie laid a hand over Zayn’s. “So, I think that means we’re out.”

She raised an eyebrow and Zayn nodded, still shell-shocked. “Um, yeah, no. I don’t want to do this and if Perrie’s okay with us “breaking up” then I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is why you want to break up,” Richard sneered. “I’ve warned you about this.”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed. “And I’m honestly past caring. You do know that Liam walks me through my finances every tax time, as well as before I sign on to any job right? I know how much I have. I know I can survive off it comfortably for the rest of my life.”

Richard looked ready to fume, Andrew stepping in. “That’s a discussion to table for another time. What we’re focusing on now is you and Perrie and this relationship you have.”

“It’s a non-existent one,” Perrie said, daring him to challenge. She then turned to her own PR rep. “Our tour starts up in two weeks. I’m sure Zayn and I can stage an unhappy photoshoot before then and within a couple of weeks you can drop the story that we broke up.”

“Blame it on distance,” Zayn suggested, elated when Perrie gave him a proud look. “It was too hard, being so far away so early on in a relationship.”

“It’s not what I had in mind when I came here,” Colin sighed, looking rather disgruntled. “But if it’s what you want, then okay. You’re both obviously in agreement so it would be pointless trying to take this further. Your relationship has, for want of a better word, run its course.”

He collected the papers with perhaps more force than necessary but gestured for Perrie to leave, Richard spluttering while Andrew stared at Zayn very, very intently. Zayn sunk down in his chair, consequently jumping a mile when someone tapped his shoulder. Perrie giggled before beckoning him to follow. He made it as far as the doorway before Richard was pulling him up with a sharp bark of his name. Perrie didn’t bother to hide her distaste but did stop, laying a hand on Zayn’s arm.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this but for what it’s worth, I really do think you’re a great guy. Someone’s going to be very lucky to get you one day.” Zayn blushed and she arched one perfect eyebrow. “Or…is there already someone?”

Zayn flinched at the instant dead silence from behind him, knowing Richard was now hanging on every word, desperate for his answer, ready to spin it in his favour. Perrie seemed to realise the same thing, muttering an apology under her breath.

“I don’t have anyone,” Zayn confessed, because it was true. He didn’t. He then pulled Perrie in for a hug, whispering into her ear. “But there is someone.”

Her grip tightened. “Then I wish you both luck, yeah?”

“You too.” Zayn shifted back, smiling at her sincerely. “Best of luck on tour, alright? Have fun, you and your girls.”

“We will,” she assured, winking flirtatiously. “You and Harry are welcome any time, as well as any plus ones you two might have. I can always arrange seats for you.”

Zayn gave her a thumbs up. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

With one last wave, Perrie walked down the hallway. Once she stepped into the lift and the doors closed, it fully hit Zayn. This was the last time he’d ever see her. Well, no, they had the “break-up” pics to shoot but really, essentially, this was her gone. One of the chains holding him down was already broken, his heart soaring at the thought.

A hand was then wrapped around his arm, yanking him back and making him hiss in pain. “That was very unwise Mr. Malik. And I’m making one thing very clear to you: when everything falls down and you’re dropped faster than you can say “homosexual”, do not expect us to back you up. I’ll be throwing you right under the bus, replacing you in an instant.” The hand was then gone, Zayn’s heart pounding in his chest. “Enjoy what’s left of your fame Mr. Malik. I can’t imagine there’d be much.”

***

Louis’ tweet had put them all at Harry’s, Harry and Liam discussing one of Harry’s up-coming shoots while Louis was there simply because Harry was. Zayn had been debating going in for the past hour and a half – and yes, he had been keeping an eye on the time and he really needed to get his shit together because that was a ridiculous amount of time to be loitering anywhere. But his heart was still pounding in his chest, knowing he’d just made the dumbest decision of his life and ruined everything and yet he couldn’t take it back, didn’t want to take it back.

He’d been crying on and off the entire time too, the terror overwhelming him to the point that he’d snapped. He was almost too scared to tell everyone what he’d done, panicking that maybe he’d gotten Liam in trouble too. Although that was impossible. His PR manager couldn’t do anything to his agent, no matter how much older he was. He and Liam were two entirely separate entities.

Finally gathering his courage, Zayn strode into Harry’s building. He took the stairs, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible. When he reached the fifth floor, Zayn paused outside of Harry’s front door. He’d received a text hours earlier saying he was more than welcome to come and that the door would be unlocked for him but now that it was…

With the last of his courage, Zayn pushed open the door, not even bothering to kick off his shoes despite Harry’s meticulous habits. All three boys were lounging on Harry’s sunken sofa, turning to wave at him with big smiles. Their faces dropped the second they saw him though.

Louis was scrambling to his feet but Zayn held up a hand. “Please don’t. Just…I did something stupid.”

Liam’s head dropped into his hands while Harry’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“PR and I had a meeting with Perrie and her team-”

“You had what?!” Liam roared, suddenly on his feet. “When was this?”

Zayn cringed at Liam’s volume, taking a half step back. “Nearly three hours ago now.”

Liam was scrolling through his phone with alarming intensity. “I don’t have any record of a meeting in here.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought as much,” Zayn murmured, shrugging under Liam’s puzzled look. “Think they wanted to corner me and Perrie without our “bosses” in our ear, you know?”

“Zayn…”

“What did you do?” Louis asked quietly, blue eyes boring into him intensely. “What was so stupid? Don’t tell me, you agreed to go out with Perrie for even longer? Buy a dog together?”

Zayn bit his lip but the way Louis looked disappointed had him snapping, “Told ‘em to fuck off is what I did! So you can drop the attitude Louis. Perrie and I told them to get stuffed, that we wouldn’t play their game any longer because it made us miserable!” Okay, so he’d been miserable but still.

Louis looked shocked and then his face flooded with shame. “Fuck. Shit Zayn, I’m sorry I…”

“I’m sorry Liam,” Zayn said, waving Louis off and turning to his agent with a sad smile. “I know I should have consulted you but…”

“No,” Liam said immediately. “No Zayn, you made the right choice. You know that. And that’s all I care about.”

“I…” Everyone’s eyes fell back on him when he wrung his hands together nervously. “I…Something else also got mentioned and I got roasted over it but…I…I…” Zayn looked up at Liam, eyes brimming with tears. “Liam, how do I come out?”

And just like that, three bodies were crashing into his, wrapping him up tight. There wasn’t any doubt in Zayn’s mind the: he’d done it; he’d made the right decision.

***

Chapter Text

They decided to go through the back channels, bypassing PR completely. It had been Louis’ idea and he’d been ever so quick to put the pieces together, quicker even than Liam and it made Zayn wonder if he’d been hypothetically working out how to do this for months. After all, it was Louis who suggested contacting their client’s directly, gathering whether Zayn and Harry would still have work if they came out, rather than determining how to break the news to the public first. So long as they still had work on the other side, there were literally no reasons as to why they couldn’t go ahead.

Truth be told, Zayn and Harry could go ahead regardless, they had enough money, but they’d both admitted to not wanting to leave the industry just yet, still enjoying their jobs. Plus, they didn’t want to leave Liam and Louis stranded.

But the responses had been overwhelmingly positive. In all honesty, most companies had replied along the lines of they didn’t even care so long as the job was still being done. A couple were thrilled at the idea, knowing they could shoe-horn in some publicity off of it and, really, if that was the worst they were going to do, Zayn could handle it. A few companies had given firm denials…generally right until Liam pointed out how obvious their reasons for dropping Zayn and Harry would be, even if it was never officially stated. People could put two and two together well enough, especially when one had had Zayn as their poster boy for going on four years. His absence would be noticed. That argument had swayed the majority and at the end of it all, Zayn and Harry were basically left with the same client list – a few off but also a few on, ones that had heard through the grape-vine and subsequently wanted in.

“Are you excited?” Harry asked, glancing up from his phone long enough to catch Zayn’s eye as they were driven to their latest shoot.

Zayn’s forehead scrunched up. “Maybe not excited…I’m plenty nervous but I think I’m going be happier with myself once I’ve done it, you know?”

Harry nodded in understanding. He then gave Zayn an oddly piercing look. “Have you told Niall?”

Zayn stiffened. “Why would I?”

“You mean besides the fact that you spent a week with the guy – alone – he was in your bed, and then suddenly he disappears to god knows where. We all know there’s something going on there.” Harry studied his nails. “Do you like him?”

“W-what?” Zayn spluttered.

Harry arched a single, perfect eyebrow. “I said, do you like him? Louis says you do. Liam doesn’t think so. I’m…I don’t know. Think I’d need to see you two together again to decide.”

“When did making bets on who I like become a thing?” Zayn screeched indignantly.

“Dunno. Probably since you actually started talking to someone what wasn’t us. So…You, Niall: yes or no?”

Zayn hid his face in his hands. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Harry repeated incredulously. He then kicked Zayn’s shin, making him yelp. “Alright, whatever you say Zayn. Just know that I know you’re lying. From that answer alone I reckon you fancy him…you’re scared though. And I don’t know why.” His voice lowered and he shuffled closer, resting a hand on Zayn’s knee. “Did something happen between you? You can talk to me if it did…Or if it didn’t. You can talk to me anytime.”

Zayn smiled, smoothly slipping out of Harry’s hold. “I know. And…It’s complicated,” he admitted, staring out the window. “But I think by coming out, it’ll make things easier. I…I’m gonna tell Niall today. At the shoot. I feel like Liam wants to go public soon.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “It does feel that way. I’m not complaining mind.”

Zayn eyed him up suspiciously. “If any nudes turn up on either your or Louis’ instagrams…”

Harry gaped before leaning forward to smack him over the head playfully. Zayn batted him away, laughing raucously and only stopping when their car came to a halt. Climbing out, the boys made their way to the front door where they were collected by Liam. He took them down to their studio, Louis in deep discussion with someone from the company’s design team. Dropping into the chair beside Harry, Zayn surveyed the room once before beckoning Liam over with a frown.

“Yeah mate?”

“Where’s Niall?”

“Hmm?” Liam asked distractedly, typing away at his iPad. He then shook his head as he actually thought about what Zayn had said. “Oh, not sure. Think he’s running a bit late. Booked the job weeks ago so he knows it’s on. Probably caught in traffic or something.”

“Weren’t that a nightmare?” Louis huffed, expression disgruntled as he came over and started opening various cases. “Had to battle it myself, what with the Central and Piccadilly line being down. Never had to sit in a taxi so long, I swear.”

“You’re not exactly patient,” Zayn pointed out.

“Neither are you,” Louis drawled, snatching a kiss from Harry before coming to stand in front of Zayn, combing his hair off his face. “Why do you think you always get done up first?”

Zayn sulked but Louis merely chuckled, tapping his nose once in reprimand before getting to work. It seemed as though they were going for some sort of Bucky Barnes/Lexa make-up – black and dark all around their eyes – and Zayn knew how it was going to grate on Niall’s soul, even as he tilted his chin up so Louis could line the bottom of his eyes easier. They had to be all but done, Harry swinging his feet contentedly in the chair next to Zayn and playing Candy Crush when Liam came over, brow furrowed. He tapped Zayn’s shoulder, Louis scowling at the agent and keeping Zayn in place with a warning sound.

“Don’t distract him Li’. He’s sitting perfectly. Harry could learn a thing or two.”

“Hey,” Harry whined, pouting.

“Easy love, you know it’s true.”

Harry did but didn’t seem too happy about it regardless. Being careful not to move, Zayn asked, “What’s up Liam?”

Liam shifted his weight awkwardly, scratching his neck before saying, “You heard from Niall lately?”

Zayn frowned, Louis groaning in irritation. Relaxing his face, though not without flipping Louis off, which earnt him a whack to the crotch, Zayn replied, “Not recently. Not since that job at the station. So, like, two weeks? Maybe three. Why?”

Liam pursed his lips, shaking his phone agitatedly. “I can’t get a hold of him. Like, his phone must be off or dead. But he’s seriously late now.”

Zayn would have reached for his phone if Louis had let him. Harry was the one that spoke up before he could argue with Louis though, an odd sense of foreboding in his tone. “Last time he uploaded anything to Instagram was sixteen days ago. Twitter was the day before.”

Zayn was pushing Louis away then, ignoring any and all protests because that wasn’t normal. Niall had gone over his contract with him. If Niall left his page blank for so long, he was going to get in trouble. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have new content. There were thousands of photos he hadn’t uploaded. Even if the scenery wasn’t great where Niall currently was there should be no reason why he wasn’t posting. His back-log was more than full enough. Phoning Niall himself, Zayn swore when it went straight to voicemail, just as Liam had described.

“Should I be worried?” Liam asked, eyeing Zayn up nervously. “You’re acting like that’s a big deal. Is it a big deal?”

“Do you have Ed’s number still?” Zayn cut in, eyes narrowed to show he would accept no questions. Taking the offered number, Zayn fired off a text, hoping Ed was at least in a time-zone that was remotely similar to theirs.

Heard from Niall recently? Can’t reach him.

Miraculously, Ed was awake, wherever he was. The reply came within seconds.

Texted me Hawaii on the 4^th.

You haven’t heard from him since?

Because that was exactly sixteen days ago, the same day he’d posted his last photo.

Nah.
Bit unusual now that I think about it. He usually jumps faster than this.
You think he’s okay?

We’re going to find out.

Keep me up to date! Love my Nialler!

Placing down his phone with shaking hands, Zayn turned to them all, dread lining his stomach. “Ed hasn’t heard from Niall in over two weeks. He doesn’t think that’s normal.”

“You don’t think…” Louis trailed off, cursing under his breath. “You think something’s happened to him.”

At Liam and Harry’s questioning look, Zayn nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He then turned and kicked the chair behind him, Liam chiding him when it fell over. “I told him a month was too long.”

Liam looked confused at that but it didn’t stop him from taking Zayn’s shoulders in his hands, locking their gazes together. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to start calling hospitals in Hawaii?”

Zayn wanted to say “yes” but his eyes fell on the set behind them, cringing. “No. You…you need to get a photographer Li’. We said we had our own, we need to deliver. You try and organise that and I…I’ll try the hospitals.”

“I’ll help,” Harry offered, Louis nodding in agreement.

As it turned out, there were over fifteen hospitals in Hawaii. They split the list and started working their way down even as Liam was heard furiously negotiating and pleading by turn with someone on the other end. From the sounds of it, it was Simon and Zayn rolled his eyes, knowing how notoriously difficult the man could be, always wanting to swindle the best deal for himself.

Three hospitals in and Zayn got a response that wasn’t an answer but so close it basically was, “I’m sorry Sir, but I cannot tell you if Mr. Horan is here or not due to confidentiality.” That coupled with the fact that Zayn had actually heard her typing right after he’d said “Horan” was all he needed.

“Oh my god, he’s there…He’s…Is he okay? Please tell me if he’s okay!”

“Sir, I’m sorry but I can’t tell you the specifics-”

“But he’s there,” Zayn pressed, hanging off every second until she finally admitted it. And then Zayn’s world dropped because… “Shit, he’s in a hospital. He’s…fuck, what happened? Is he…Is he…?”

His breath was shortening before he even realised it. The others did though, Harry dragging him into his arms while Louis took the phone, speaking into it quickly. Liam was standing ramrod straight, breath still as he stared at Louis, desperate for news.

“Sorry love,” Louis was saying, “Yes, he’s a bit of the panicking type. Zayn, his name is. He’s Niall’s…partner,” Louis finished uncertainly, shrugging when Zayn adopted a frown. “…I understand that…No, I do, I assure you it’s just-…No, sorry but Zayn is his family…Not in the married sense but in the sense that Niall’s family are all deceased-”

Zayn didn’t really think he could be blamed for not being able to keep that a secret. It was a pretty integral part in why Niall had run in the first place that time.

“-and Zayn is all he’s got…Yes, I’m a close friend. There’s four of us, well, five actually…Yes…Thank you…” Louis walked back over to Zayn, silently miming at the phone, Zayn quickly nodding. “Alright, well he seems to have calmed down so I’ll put Zayn back on. Think he’d rather hear it from you. I trust him to fill us in, don’t worry…You’re welcome. Thank you again love.”

The next five minutes were probably the longest of Zayn’s life. He listened as the nurse explained everything to him, barely even noticing when Harry led him to a chair and lowered him into it. Ending the call, Zayn was met with three desperate pairs of eyes. Clutching his phone tightly, Zayn took a deep breath, allowing the shake in his voice so long as it meant he didn’t cry.

“They found him two weeks ago, some hikers. From the looks of it, Niall was climbing the mountains on Hawai’i. They think it had been raining, made the ground more slippery than normal. He…he fell. Tripped off the track and down into a ravine. Knocked himself out, was lucky even to be found as quickly as he was – a day or two they think.”

“Jesus,” Liam hissed, fingers twitching like he was itching for a smoke. Weren’t they all?

“He alright?” Harry asked, because he needed to.

Zayn shook his head. “They, um…The nurse said he just woke up yesterday afternoon. Whatever he’d done, he did it quite badly. Properly shook his brain up, went into a coma or something.”

Zayn had to stop because he knew how bad that was, how much worse it could have been. After all, people didn’t always wake from comas. And even if they did, that didn’t always mean they were the same. There was a lot that could go wrong with head injuries. Louis’ hand slipped into his, grounding him and Zayn latched onto it desperately.

“From the tests they ran yesterday, they reckon he’s okay. A bit sore and out of sorts, definitely disorientated, but still seems to have all his brain functions and memories, you know?” He then remembered something else, wincing. “Oh, and he, like, broke his collar bone too. Bumps and grazes all over but head and shoulders seemed to bear the brunt of the impact. The left one, I think.”

“Dangerous.” Harry’s voice was sombre, eyes drilling into the floor. “What he does…It’s too dangerous. If we didn’t have this job, no one would have been looking.”

“Ed would have called in a month,” Zayn offered, oddly satisfied when everyone else scoffed. There Niall, people had his back, he wasn’t being overly fussy.

“That’s too late and you know it,” Louis sniffed.

“Now would have been too late,” Liam remarked bluntly. “If those other hikers hadn’t stumbled across him, Niall would be…well…”

Zayn silenced Liam with a glare because they knew, okay? It didn’t need to be said aloud. They didn’t need to have a vivid picture of Niall lying at the bottom of a ravine, pale and lifeless. Louis’ hand suddenly wasn’t enough and Zayn disentangled his fingers before climbing into Louis’ actual lap, burying his face in his shoulder.

“Oh Zee,” Louis murmured, rocking him gently. “Easy babe. He’s alright. I know it was close but what matters is that he’s okay now.” Louis’ eyes lifted to Liam, nodding towards Zayn. “He…with what I said on the phone, he…”

Liam sighed heavily, dropping into the chair Zayn had just vacated. “You want him to go get him.”

“Someone needs to bring him home and something tells me it should be Zayn. Shockingly, he actually seems to know the most about Niall now.” Louis thumbed Zayn’s cheek, the model leaning into the touch. “Liam, he needs to do this.”

“I know,” Liam admitted, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s just…we need this job Louis. I already signed them.” Flipping open the contract, he skimmed the page. “I…Maybe there’s a loop-hole but if we cancel now, we’re going to get a black mark against us. That isn’t something we want at the moment.”

“People get sick,” Harry reasoned, Zayn raising his head when he heard something being placed down beside him. It was his bag, Harry having already collected his belongings, a gesture which earnt him a pained one from Liam.

“Harry…I’m trying,” he insisted.

Zayn reached out, hand curling around Liam’s wrist. “I know. It’s okay Li’. We’ll all ju-”

“Here.” Liam’s voice was rushed, stabbing at a section of text. “The contract’s flimsy here. If Harry stays behind and does the shoot, I can send Zayn off and claim that it was ambiguously worded enough that I misinterpreted. They won’t be happy-”

“-but the argument will stand,” Louis concluded with a nod. He then glanced at Harry. “I’m assuming you haven’t just been fucking around on your phone Haz. Flight times?”

“One in four and a half hours,” Harry replied immediately. “No earlier ones but you’ll need it to make customs anyway.”

Liam was hefting Zayn out of Louis’ lap, passing him his bag before enveloping him in a hug. “Go. And keep us up to date. Want to know if it’s worth sending us all over or if you’ll be back before then.” He then kissed Zayn’s cheek. “All the best, yeah?”

Zayn smiled, giving Liam’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks.”

“Give my love to Niall!” Harry called as Zayn dashed off.

“Me too!” Louis added. “And bring me a fucking pineapple!”

Zayn flipped him off before leaving the studio. He had a plane to catch.

***

He could have been sleeping. But anyone who knew Niall would have to be naïve to think that. Because even in his sleep, Niall was a flurry of movement. He tossed and turned and kicked and made odd little sounds. The fact that he was lying so still was testament enough that he wasn’t completely back to normal. The other dead giveaway was the IV lines. Maybe the plasters dotting his skin or the sling wrapped around his neck, pinning his arm to his chest.

Zayn’s throat constricted at the sight, the nurse giving him a sympathetic look. “He was awake before. We didn’t tell him you were coming; we weren’t sure, didn’t want to get his hopes up. You could wake him, if you wanted?”

Zayn shook his head, padding across the room and toeing off his shoes. “Just want to stay with him.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I’m sure he’d like that.”

Waiting for her to leave, Zayn switched his phone onto silent before jumping up onto the bed. He managed to slot himself in the space between Niall and the bed’s railings, tucked up tight with his head resting on Niall’s shoulder. There was something comforting in the steady movement of his chest, its consistent rise and fall, and if Zayn placed a hand on it purely for that reason he thought that perhaps, this once, that was okay.

***

He didn’t know when he’d drifted off or for how long for but Zayn stirred when he felt the body under him stiffen. He made a displeased sound, something in that making the person under him huff in amusement, body relaxing. Fingers were then in his hair, twirling it round before sweeping it back.

“Of course you complain in your sleep. Bloody princess and the pea, except in real life.”

The words were softly spoken, muttered under a breath, but Zayn heard them nonetheless. “Thought I were Jasmine.”

Niall jumped, unaware that he’d been awake before tsk-ing at him. “Maybe you’re just all the princesses. At once. Every one of them.”

Zayn grinned lazily, tensing when Niall traced the expression with his thumb. Shuffling back, Zayn pushed himself up, twisting so he could face Niall. For once Niall’s eyes were swirling with uncertainty and Zayn had to admit, he kind of felt the same. Which was why he avoided the elephant in the room, preferring to let his hands drift over Niall’s various injuries, touch feather-light.

“I’m sorry.”

Niall frowned. “What for? This weren’t your fault.”

Zayn returned the frown, eyes locked on a particularly deep cut on Niall’s forearm. “I don’t know. Just felt like the right thing to say. Like…Should have been here sooner.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Niall grumped. “How could you have known? Is not like I have “call Zayn in case of emergency” followed by your number tattooed on me.”

“You should,” Zayn snapped, voice unrelenting. “If you’re going to travel you need something better than a phone because, surprise! - they break. Just like yours has. And it’s not like the hospital can call anyone based off your passport details. I mean…For fuck’s sake Niall. You could have died and none of us would have known! We had to call – call! – every hospital in Hawaii just on the off chance you were here. Do you know what that felt like? Do you?!”

Zayn’s shoulders folded in as he sobbed, Niall hastily reaching for him best he could. “Zayn, I’m sorry. I…This has never happened before.”

“But you need to plan for it to,” Zayn argued, shamelessly burrowing into Niall’s chest. “Don’t want to lose you. Don’t want to go through that again.” He came to cup Niall’s face, fingertips ghosting over where he’d been told the bump had been. “You were hurt so bad Niall. And no one was here for you. That’s not okay.”

Niall sighed, nuzzling into his palm. “If I said you were here now and that’s all that matters, would you accept that?”

“No,” Zayn said honestly, “…but it’s the best I’m going to get so I guess I have to.”

He went to jump down, maybe call a nurse or something, when Niall fisted his hand in his sleeve, eyes very determinedly staring at his lap. “Why are you here?” When Zayn didn’t answer right away, he raised his head, perplexed. “Is this what “never in a million years” looks like?”

“Fucking hell,” Zayn snapped, glowering at the blond. “Me being here has nothing to do with me wanting to get in your pants. I’m here because I care about you and, God forbid, I get worried when you’re hurt. I want to make sure you’re okay and if you’re not…to be there until you are.”

“Never said I wanted to fuck you…” The quiet admission had Zayn blinking. “I mean, course I do but…I wasn’t asking for that; I was asking for a relationship. And what you just described Zayn, sounds pretty much like one to me.”

Zayn was rendered speechless because Niall was right. One hundred percent right. That did sound like a relationship. And it made Zayn wonder, was that really what he wanted? Did he actually want to get into a relationship with Niall Horan? It was as though the idea had never even crossed his mind, been too busy focusing on how much he hated Niall but even then…Did he ever really even hate the guy? Or was he thrilled by the challenge? Spurred on by someone who could dig their heels in just as much as he could? Someone who was very much his opposite but, essentially, wanted everything he wanted; freedom and to enjoy life.

It was a lot for Zayn to take in.

There was also going to be a lot of processing.

Which was why he dodged the question, shaking his head and hating the way Niall’s features adopted a hurt edge to them. “I’m not saying no,” he murmured, careful to only place his hand on Niall’s knee, give him as much personal space as needed. “And I know I sound like a heartless fucker for asking you to give me time…”

“But that’s what you’re asking,” Niall said, a hard edge to his tone.

Zayn nodded without hesitation, knowing he had to stand strong here because to waver would be cowardice, would push Niall away more. “I am. But because I don’t want us to jump in. I don’t want us to get together like those people what do because they think the world is ending. You’re in hospital and that scared the shit out of both of us. Yes, you,” he snapped when Niall looked surprised. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You may not be saying it but this terrifies you.” Niall flushed accordingly and Zayn nodded, point proven. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about this first. And also…” Niall’s interest piqued as Zayn drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “I…Um…Perrie and I told PR to fuck off? And Liam’s orchestrating Harry and I’s coming out?”

Jubilant was an expression rarely used these days. But Zayn could find no word more adequate to describe Niall’s reaction to that news. He couldn’t really move but he’d gestured for Zayn furiously until he came into his space, Niall wrapping his arms around him and he never once stopped whispering how proud he was.

***

With Niall’s permission Zayn had taken a photo on Niall’s new phone – that was bought without Niall’s permission but Zayn wouldn’t take no for an answer – of him in his hospital bed. It wasn’t of Niall per se, Zayn having taken the photo from over his shoulder, making sure the bed itself, Niall’s sling, and IV were in the shot, but it was enough. Zayn had then posted it on Niall’s account, figuring that would be enough to get his employers off his back. After all, they could hardly hound him for lack of content when he’d clearly been in a position that hadn’t allowed him to do anything…while technically still under their employment. Zayn knew that if Instagram tried to complain, Niall would have grounds to sue, even if he said he’d never use it.

But Niall was asleep now, still recovering and still working on remaining conscious for more than a couple of hours at a time. Zayn had permission to take Niall home the day after tomorrow, provided he kept up round the clock surveillance. That in itself was an interesting dilemma and Zayn had stared at his phone for a long, long time before calling Harry.

“Hey Zayn,” Harry panted, Zayn wincing, realising he’d caught Harry at the gym. “What’s up?”

“I can call back?” he offered.

“Nah, I’m nearly done,” Harry replied, voice scandalised as if the thought of hanging up on Zayn was preposterous. “How’s it going? How’s Niall?”

Zayn smiled, leaning back in his chair and watching Niall’s sleeping form. “Yeah, he’s good. Can take him home in two days, so long as we keep an eye on him.”

“I’m glad.”

He sounded it too. Which was probably what gave Zayn the courage to say, “You know how you once said you betted Niall’s flat would be all minimalist and neutral and whatever other shit you said? Something about polaroids, I think?”

“I do…” Harry said slowly, Zayn hearing him hop off the treadmill.

“Did you…You had in your head what that might look like, didn’t you?”

“Yes...”

There was so much suspicion there, Zayn fighting back a groan. But he had to say it now; he’d come this far. “Could you do it? Between today and tomorrow could you re-do the room in my flat, the one facing away from the Thames? Do it…well, however you thought Niall would do it, I guess. Liam’s got the key to my flat, the spare one anyway.”

Harry was his best friend, Zayn decided. His best friend in the whole world. Because his response was simply: “Okay.”

God bless Harry Styles.

And also, fuck what he’d said earlier; fuck processing and thinking. Because Niall was coming home with him. And that was that.

***

Harry had done a phenomenal job. Zayn didn’t know who he’d spoken to, or if in fact Harry was just far more creative than Zayn had ever known, but Niall’s room looked stunning. The furniture had been swapped from sleek and modern to soft woods and warm lighting. Wooden planks of all different lengths were set into one wall, a giant world map being painted over the top, the white paint stark against the dark wood. Harry had had several of Niall’s most popular pictures turned into canvases, spread out across the opposite wall. He’d also clearly raided his and Zayn’s wardrobes, finding some articles they didn’t wear too often and placing them in what were now Niall’s drawers.

Zayn hadn’t known how Niall was going to react. He’d offhandedly said on the plane that Niall would be staying with him until he was recovered but hadn’t let on that he’d effectively made Niall a home base so to speak. It was too much he knew, but that didn’t mean he was going to back down. It felt right and that was working out surprisingly well for him at the moment; following that gut instinct and trusting in his own feelings.

But Zayn needn’t have worried. Harry, Liam, Louis, and even Ed had been there when they’d come home. Niall’s mouth had dropped open at seeing Ed before tearing across the room, screaming when Ed had picked him right up off the ground, Niall’s legs wrapping around his waist. There’d been a lot of swearing and barely concealed tears but there were smiles too and it was so, so obvious how close those two were. It was Ed that had led Niall down to his room, gently encouraging him over the threshold when Niall had frozen in the doorway.

“Come on Nialler,” he called softly, tugging on his hand. “This is yours now. Pretty sweet set up, right?”

The next second Niall was throwing his bag down, breaking free of Ed’s grip and hurling himself at Zayn. “Thank you,” he gasped, voice clogged with tears. “Thank you so much. So, so much.”

“Thank Harry,” Zayn reprimanded. “It were him what did it.”

Niall kicked him. “I don’t mean the fucking decorations – although they are lovely, thank you Harry-” Harry preened appropriately. “You know what I’m thanking you for.”

Zayn dropped his teasing façade, taking the flat’s spare key from where Liam was holding it out for him, pressing it into Niall’s palm. “Everyone needs a place to call home Niall. And, if you want, it can be here.”

Niall swallowed thickly, looking around the room once more slowly, taking it all in. When his eyes landed back on Zayn, they were misted over. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

***

“Are you sure he should be back on the job?”

The worried hiss came from Harry and before Zayn could back him up, a voice sang out from behind them. “And when are you going to realise that his collar bone’s broken, not his ears?”

Harry leapt a good foot in the air, causing Louis to laugh loudly. Niall came between them looking decidedly unimpressed. He then held up his camera, easily holding it in his right hand and leaving his injured left arm completely unscathed.

“See? I can do it,” he concluded dryly. “Now can you lot stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourselves?”

Harry made an affronted noise but did let Louis lead him away. Zayn gave Niall a smile as he was dragged away by someone from…Zayn pinched his brow. He didn’t even know. Whoever it was they were modelling for today.

Ten minutes later and Zayn was going to have a word with Liam about “whoever it was” because their clothes were absolutely appalling. Even in an air-conditioned room, the suit was stifling. He got that it was a three piece but still. It shouldn’t be this hot to wear. They definitely needed to look into something more lightweight or something that breathed better; Egyptian cotton, perhaps. Walking back to where Niall was stationed at the edge of backdrop, the Irishman frowned at the sight of him.

“Alright?”

Zayn squirmed away before Niall’s hand could make contact. “Sorry, this is just…hot.”

Niall went to say more but Zayn waved him off. Hey, it wasn’t him wearing the suit so what opinion could Niall have? Shifting into place, Zayn adopted his usual standard pose and expression. The shoot was straight-forward enough, he was probably able to do it in his sleep. He thought he’d been doing quite well until Niall had set his camera down and veritably marched over to him, hooking his hand around Zayn’s arm and guiding him to the side of the screen. He all but pushed Zayn into a chair, one hand briefly touching his cheek, the other coming to rest in the centre of his back.

“Hey!” Zayn cried, knocking him away. “Back up Horan.”

Niall ignored him, reaching across to grab Louis’ make up wipes before starting to clean his face. That earnt a reaction.

“Oi!” Louis bellowed from across the way, no longer talking to Liam as Harry got dressed, face white with horror. “Do you have any fucking idea how long it took me to get his contouring that perfect?”

“Liam.” Niall’s voice was short and clipped. “Find a first aid kit with a thermometer, now.”

Zayn blinked up at Niall slowly. “Why? I don’t…”

Liam’s hand was on his forehead. “Shit.” The next second he was gone.

“Louis, water,” Niall instructed even as he struggled with Zayn’s clothes, sliding the jacket off his shoulders before wrestling with the waistcoat. “Zayn, talk to me. How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” he replied. “Maybe tired? And like…brain hurts. You know, when you can’t find the words…Tired, probably. Didn’t sleep well last night. Too hot, weren’t it?”

“Too hot. In an air-conditioned bedroom,” Niall deadpanned. “Right, and the suit just happens to be too hot too, didn’t you say? You don’t find that strange?”

Now that Zayn thought about it, he did. Limply, he reached out for Niall, head dropping onto his shoulder. “Just feel foggy. But I feel that sometimes.”

“Everyone does,” Niall consoled. “But not like this. You’re more out of it than you think, trust me. You-…Liam, good.”

As Niall was setting the thermometer under Zayn’s tongue, Liam was wringing his hands together. “I didn’t notice. He seemed fine.”

From under his lashes, Zayn saw the way Niall’s face contorted at that. Clearly he was of the belief that if he had noticed, everyone else probably should have too; what with them having known Zayn longer and all. The thermometer beeping and Harry emerging from the changing rooms happened at the same time. Even as Harry and the photoshoot’s director were coming over, Niall checked the reading. He nearly dropped it which Zayn didn’t think meant anything good. Liam read the number, paling before looking between it and Zayn in horror.

“39.8°…39.8°.” His hand found Zayn’s forehead again. “Christ, that’s…that’s bloody high.”

“Go and get him medical assistance.”

Sluggishly raising his head, Zayn saw the woman over-seeing them shaking her head ever so slightly. “That’s no joking number. The deadline for this is next Friday. We can reschedule a date before then.” She tapped Liam’s phone. “My details are still in there. When that one’s better-” a nod in Zayn’s direction, “-call me and we’ll arrange to have them both brought back in.”

“I can stay,” Harry offered, “I mean…I don’t need to go…” Even if his body language clearly showed that he wanted to.

She smiled, patting his cheek. “Very kind young man but we did need shots of you together so that’s not going to work. Besides, you seem like a very tight company. It would feel like a shame to separate you all.”

Thanks were passed around and belongings gathered. Without even bothering to ask, Liam whisked Zayn into his arms. Niall looked upset, a single hand clenching and unclenching like he’d wanted to do that but knowing his injuries prevented him from doing so. Zayn managed to grasp his sleeve just as Liam passed. “Next time, yeah?”

Niall huffed out a laugh, poking his cheek. “You wish. Now hush, you need rest.”

“Said I feel fine,” Zayn protested.

Four groans came in unison, along with rolled eyes courtesy of Louis and Liam. “Yes Zayn, you’re fine,” Louis chirped sarcastically, tweaking his nose. “Like always. Always fine, always alright.”

Not liking the painful truth there, Zayn flipped Louis off. Grinning at the indignant shriek that got in return, Zayn then tucked himself against Liam’s chest, snuffling into his shirt. Liam drew him that little bit closer, exuding warmth and protectiveness. “Sorry love,” he whispered, breath ghosting over Zayn’s forehead. “Sorry I didn’t see.”

“Liam.” Niall’s voice was scolding from where it came from his left. “There wasn’t anything to see.”

“And yet you noticed,” Liam snapped, sniffing. “You, who’s known Zayn all of five months. As opposed to me, who’s known him near four years.” Liam sounded nearly in tears as he climbed into the back of a car, careful not to jostle Zayn too much.

Zayn wanted to say it was fine, that even he hadn’t noticed, but it seemed his fever had finally caught up with him, now too lazy to open his eyes let alone speak. Liam’s cheek was pressed against his forehead, his body giving a little quiver at the undeniable heat he felt radiating off there.

“Christ, he’s so hot.”

“Liam, mate, it’s alright,” Louis stressed, clearly concerned. “I’m sure it’s just an infection. Some paracetamol and he’ll be fine.”

“How did you not notice?” Liam’s voice was whip-like. “You had him for nearly half an hour Louis.”

Louis seemed knocked off kilter at being the one being attacked. “Well excuse me if working under strong lighting makes everyone hot Payno.”

“He-”

“Liam,” Zayn begged, his voice alone instantly putting an end to all arguments. “Stop. Please. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Promise. I didn’t notice either, alright? But Niall did so we can fix it now. That’s what matters, okay?” He managed to send Liam one pleading look around his exhaustion, watching Liam deflate, curling around him.

“Sorry. I just…I want you to be alright for once.”

Zayn snuggled into his neck. “I know. And it’s okay, I’ve got Niall now. He makes it okay.”

Zayn eyes sunk shut after that, meaning he missed the final part of the conversation. Or rather, the part where everyone turned and looked at Niall with raised eyebrows, the Irishman looking particularly cornered. “Oh really?” Louis drawled. “And in what ways do you make it okay?” He’d been expecting Niall to reply with something blasé, not to go bright crimson. Louis’ jaw dropped, along with Harry’s. “Oh my god! You and Zayn…you totally nutted him. I said so, I said so! Ha! Taking care of him in just the right way it seems.”

Harry whacked him. “Don’t be so vile Lou’. You know Niall does more than that.”

Louis scoffed at him. “Haz, please. I already knew about that bit. The giving Zayn the courage to come out, getting him open enough to try new ideas, cracking him out of his shell a bit…but the sex. The sex is new.” He then leant forward, grinning like a cat who’d caught the canary. “So, seeing as how I never got passed third base with Zayn, how was he?”

How Zayn slept through the cacophony of noise that followed that question was a mystery but perhaps it was for the best.

***

As it turned out, Zayn had merely had, as Louis had predicted, an infection. There was nothing that could be done other than give him medicine and plenty of bed rest. It made for a reverse of roles in Zayn’s flat with Niall now being the one well enough to provide care while Zayn was now the one needing it. “Care” was probably too strong a word as he literally just slept for hours and hours and Niall’s only real job was to wake him up every eight hours or so and try and get him to eat. Zayn would grumble and moan but eventually shuffle into the kitchen, dropping onto one of the stools, eating the bare minimum Niall set before collapsing back into his bed. It was easy, if not boring.

Studying the list of upcoming world festivals on his calendar, trying to determine from there where to go next, Niall was snapped out of his musings by a tiny tap on his doorframe. Looking up from his Mac, Niall’s head tilted to the side upon seeing Zayn there, face a little more full of colour and eyes a little less glassy than they had been the past couple of days.

“Hey,” he called, swinging his legs over the side of the bed but pulling up short when the action made Zayn tense. “Zayn? Are you okay?”

Zayn nodded, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. Niall’s brain screeched to a halt. Hang on…sweatshirt. He quickly blinked, taking in Zayn’s outfit again. Yes, sweatshirt and sweatpants. Not those outrageous silk pyjamas he’d been wearing or the other similar ridiculous clothing he wore even around the house like the Queen was going to pop round any minute. He was in honest to God sweats. Up until this point, Niall hadn’t thought it possible to be turned on by someone wearing sweats. And yet…

He then forced himself to listen, realising Zayn was already talking. “-bored. I mean, I don’t even know if you like it but…superheroes right? Doesn’t everyone…even a little…?”

Fucking hell. It was too endearing. Zayn was legitimately blushing and bashful because he wanted Niall to watch superhero movies with him. Niall smiled fondly, snapping his computer shut. “Of course we can. And they’re all good to me. Whatever you want.”

Zayn shyly whispered a “thanks”, hiding his eyes behind those long lashes and God, what had Niall ever done to deserve this? As Zayn pattered down the hall, he frowned upon realising Niall wasn’t following immediately, too busy eyeing him up. “What?” he demanded, bottom lip jutting out.

“You just…” Niall shook his head. “You know, I don’t remember buying those sweats.” Zayn froze, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Which means…You went and bought them.” Niall hooked his hand under Zayn’s collar, examining the tag and raising an eyebrow. “Did Zayn Malik himself walk into a Primark and physically buy sweats?”

Zayn shoved him away, crossing his arms defensively. “Shut up.”

“I wonder though,” Niall said slyly, loving the way Zayn was oh so clearly hanging off every word but absolutely pretending he wasn’t. “Does Zayn Malik know how fucking hot that is?”

Zayn stammered out a, “W-what? Please. I look like shit. They were just comfy, alright? You win.”

Niall tutted. “Don’t care about winning. And the reason this is hot isn’t because of how you look. It’s the principle behind it. It’s you being confident enough to not give a fuck what people think.” Niall crowded into Zayn’s space, letting their lips brush together tentatively. “And that’s what gets me going.”

Zayn groaned, giving him the lightest of pecks before weaselling away. “Fine, alright, ugly clothes make you pop semis. Remind me of that at Christmas and ugly sweaters are running rampant. But you are not kissing me!” he said sternly, dropping onto his couch where, to Niall’s amusement, he already had Batman queued up and waiting. “Well, not now ‘cause I’m sick and if you get sick too Louis will give me hell. That fucker is smug enough as it is.”

Niall actually agreed with that reasoning, grabbing some snacks from the kitchen and settling in beside Zayn. He gave Zayn all of about five minutes before moulding himself into his side and letting his head drop onto Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn sighed but it was so exaggerated that Niall couldn’t do anything but giggle. Zayn’s arm then wrapped around his shoulders, fingers drawing mindless patterns up his arm.

“Hey Niall?” Zayn asked, three movies in.

“Hmm?”

“This…this is what boyfriends do, isn’t it?”

Niall couldn’t hide the burst of pride in his chest. “Yeah, it is.”

“Could we, you know, try that?”

“Try and be boyfriends?” Niall clarified, waiting for Zayn to nod. He then kissed Zayn’s cheek. “Sure. I’ll date the Princess.”

Zayn actually seemed stunned that he’d agreed, though when the words sunk in his face morphed into pure sunshine. “Well, someone’s got to do it.”

Niall barked out a laugh, enamoured. “You’re something else Malik, really you are.” But, truth be told, Niall wouldn’t have him any other way.

***

Chapter Text

Coming back from the gym, Zayn was making towards the laundry room when he realised the living room light was on. His stomach clenched at the sight of the figure moulded into the couch, intently staring at their laptop.

“Niall.”

The name escaped him by accident, Niall whipping up at the sound. His face then split into a grin. That was all it took for Zayn to drop his bag and vault over the side of the couch, curling into Niall’s side. It had been two weeks since they’d last seen each other and Zayn was more than ready to have him back. Niall coaxed his head up, brushing their lips together.

“Hey.”

Pulling back, Zayn gave Niall a smile of his own. “Hey. How was Asia?”

Niall’s nose twitched. “A bit unpleasant, to be honest. Weather was god awful and, I don’t know, people just didn’t seem  friendly this time.” He thumbed at the frown lines on Zayn’s forehead – Zayn thinking that it was most likely the arm in a sling that had doused Niall’s spirits. “But did you like my daily updates?”

Zayn glared at him. “You know why I ask for them. Stop taking it out on me.”

Niall’s ears went pink. “You’re right. Sorry. Should be thankful someone cares about me that much.”

Soothed by the apology, Zayn allowed himself to adopt a haughty edge. “Yes, you should. I’m nothing if not considerate.”

Niall barked out a laugh, pulling him back in once more. “You’re plenty alright Zayn. How was the gym?” he asked just as Zayn got comfortable with his head in Niall’s lap.

Zayn didn’t know if that was okay but the way in which Niall simply shut his laptop while his good hand ran up and down his side assured him it was. “Was fine,” he mumbled, eyes sinking shut. “Liam and Louis were there, so that helped. More fun when you can listen to those two bitch and hurl insults at each other across the machines.”

“You all go to the gym together? I didn’t know that.”

“More like we all kind of ended up there,” Zayn admitted. “Liam’s always gone and I had to so it made sense we’d go together. Louis was new in town and liked us so he came along just for company. And then once Harry was signed over to Liam, he switched to our gym. But, like, we hardly ever get there at the same time, you know?” He corked Niall’s thigh. “You should come too.”

Niall snorted. “Please. I do enough exercise through travelling. Not gonna do it consciously just because.” When Zayn looked up, the blond’s nose was all scrunched up. “Sounds awful.”

“It does,” Zayn grimaced, reluctantly sitting up and capturing Niall’s lips quickly. “Sorry but I’m gonna turn in early. Liam needs to renew our contracts so we’re gonna spend tomorrow slogging through it. I don’t want to,” he finished with a whine.

Niall laughed, kicking him with a socked foot. “Oh hush. You’re an adult. Go do adult things Zayn.”

“Hate you,” Zayn grumbled.

“No you don’t!” Niall sang happily as he strode away.

Reaching his room’s doorframe, Zayn had to stop, turning around and smiling softly. “Yeah, I don’t.”

***

“Do they know?”

Zayn looked up from where he was gathering the last of his things, brow furrowed. “Who’s they and what do they not know?”

Niall toyed with the bracelets on his arm, all intricately woven fabrics in stunning colours. “Liam and them. Like, do they know that you and I are together?”

Zayn tapped his chin in thought. “Don’t think so. I mean, they know you live here but that’s all. They never really asked plus I haven’t seen them all together and god knows if you don’t tell them all at the same time someone gets pissed about not knowing first.”

Niall chuckled, hooking his arm around Zayn’s waist. “So we’re not keeping it a secret or anything?”

Zayn sharply turned around. “No! Why the fuck would I do that?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you-”

“Christ no,” Niall said, shaking his head firmly. “I would never do that to you. I just wanted us on the same page before we met with everyone today.”

Shouldering his bag and waiting for Niall, laden with his own bag, to exit the flat, Zayn pulled the door shut before saying, “You do realise it’s not everyone today? This is my job, not Harry’s. And didn’t you get Louis’ text? He’s sick. Armani have got their own stylist coming in.”

Niall’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Right. So Louis’ sick the same day Harry’s not in?”

“It’s not like that,” Zayn said, swatting Niall playfully. “Louis’ not like that. And no, I saw him yesterday and he looked awful. We kept telling him to go home but he insisted on staying.” He shrugged. “Should have stayed home is all I can say.”

Hopping into the back of the cab, Niall admitted, “I sometimes forget you and Harry don’t do everything together. There’s a lot that you do.”

“I know,” Zayn agreed. “Even if we don’t always model the same styles, the companies usually get us both in. Harry might do their “casual” clothes so to say and I’ll do the suits but yeah, I see where you’re coming from. Although, I don’t get it because Harry gets so shy when it’s underwear shoots and…How does he? He’s way more outgoing than I am and he-”

“U-underwear?” Niall spluttered.

Zayn frowned. “Yes. Underwear. That’s what we’re doing today. Did you not get the email?” He then looked closer, hands slapping together gleefully. “Oh my god you…holy shit Niall, you’re blushing. Is this…?” Zayn cackled, all too pleased with the arrangement now. “Is there going to be a “conflict of interests”?”

Niall gaped before digging his fingers into Zayn’s ribs, making him squeal. “Absolutely not.”

***

Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit.

Niall was a liar. He was never going to own up to it but honestly, how was he supposed to remain unaffected when Zayn was strutting around in nothing but briefs, eyes all dark and sultry? The make-up may have been thicker than when Louis did it but Niall was thankful for it because he didn’t think he could handle it the other way. It was something he could focus on, to distract himself.

And then of course they’d had to make Zayn pose in a bath, get him all wet and Jesus, how could anyone focus? Boyfriend or not this had to be torture.

“Alright Niall?”

Unless, of course, you were Liam – someone who was so straight they weren’t even affected by Zayn’s lethal combination of good looks and near nakedness or someone who had seen it so many times they were immune. Niall spared him an exasperated look. “I’m just fantastic Liam.”

Naturally Liam took it the wrong way, smothering him in concern. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? You do look a little flushed.”

“Oh does he?” Niall scowled at Zayn who had clearly overheard that because of course he had. He was grinning lazily from where he’d been asked to sit while they went and found the next set of clothes. “How interesting.”

“Shut up,” Niall growled, flipping him off which only earnt a laugh.

Liam looked between them in confusion before his eyes widened. “Hold up, are you two actually…you know…?”

“Together?” Zayn clarified, nodding when Liam did. “Yeah. Don’t tell Louis and Harry though. I’d rather tell them myself.”

“Or not,” Liam snickered. “Louis’ going to have a field day.” Zayn groaned, knowing it was true. Liam then turned back to Niall, smile devilish for once. “And is this-” he gestured at Zayn’s lack of attire, “-bothering you?”

Niall’s expression turned flat. “Hmm, let me ask you this Liam: if Danielle was here, dressed like this, posing like that…how would you feel?”

Liam went blistering red while Zayn made a scandalised noise. “Excuse me, but are you objectifying me Niall? A sex object and nothing more?”

“No!” Niall cried, pouting when Zayn laughed loudly. “Oh fuck off. Don’t you have a job to do or something?”

Glancing behind him and seeing the Armani people walk back in, Zayn quickly zipped to Niall’s side, whispering in his ear, “Yeah, I do. But I’d be happy to finish up at home later.”

And okay, Zayn had never come on to him before. If Niall hadn’t been hard before, he was now. Fuck.

***

Arriving home, it took less than ten seconds for Niall to push Zayn against the wall, kissing him desperately. Zayn responded just as quickly, fingers tight in the front of Niall’s shirt as he licked into his mouth. Niall let him, lips parting, a tiny gasp escaping. Zayn whimpered as Niall shifted closer, hand ghosting under his shirt.

Breaking away, Niall took a step towards his room. “Come on.”

“Why your room?”

“Y-You…” Realising Zayn was joking, Niall poked his stomach with a finger. “Prick. My room now. Or…I can finish this myself.”

Zayn’s expression turned thunderous, right on Niall’s heels as he took off down the hall. His fingers snagged him just as he reached the bed. Whirling around, Niall pulled him up with firm “stop”. The air then left his lungs as Zayn did exactly that, coming to a dead halt, body giving a single shiver. Niall’s throat went dry, mind suddenly flashing to that time he’d ordered Zayn to strip and he’d done so almost desperately, cheeks flaming.

“Zayn,” he managed, tracing his collar bone with trembling fingers. “Is that…are you okay with that? Do you like that?”

The model flushed darkly but nodded. Niall grinned, sucking a series of marks down Zayn’s neck, making him groan. Popping the buttons on Zayn’s shirt, Niall started to work down his chest, latching onto a nipple. Zayn’s hips jerked in response, hissing. “Niall,” he mewled. “Niall, please.”

“Please what?” he asked teasingly, moving to drop to his knees only to stumble when Zayn yanked him to his feet.

“No games.”

“Wasn’t aware blow-jobs were a game Princess but, still, if that’s how you want to play…Bed, now.”

Zayn stumbled in his haste to obey, lying back against the pillows and letting his legs fall open. Niall swallowed at the sight, stepping out of his jeans before removing the rest of his clothes, grumbling when he had to slip in and out of his sling. Positioning himself between Zayn’s legs, he let his hand run down his side, admiring the goose-bumps that popped up in response. He couldn’t help it, had to lean down and kiss Zayn’s hip-bones. He then tugged at the denim waistband.

“Give me a hand, yeah?”

Zayn lifted his hips, helping Niall remove the clothing before taking him in. “Hands and knees easier for you?”

“Probably,” Niall sulked, Zayn kissing away his pout before turning over, propping himself up. Niall groaned at the sight before placing a hand in the centre of Zayn’s back. “Don’t move, got it?” Zayn whined but stilled. Niall leant up to press his lips to Zayn’s neck. “Good job.”

There was no denying the pleasure that ran through Zayn’s body at the praise. To be honest, that was probably what he liked more, Niall realised. Reaching for the lube and slicking his fingers up, Niall started to open Zayn up, whispering sweet nothings to him the whole time. It was so obvious Zayn wanted to push back against him, draw Niall deeper but the Irishman wasn’t going to give in, teasing and oh so purposefully missing that one spot.

“Niall,” Zayn begged, sounding very close to sobbing. “Please.”

Niall paused. “Actually please or-”

“No,” Zayn gasped, shaking his head. “When I want you to stop, you’ll know.”

Content with that, Niall finally twisted his fingers just right, Zayn crying out loudly. Working his fingers until satisfied Zayn was open enough, Niall removed them, tearing open the condom with his teeth and rolling it on. Adding more lube, Niall positioned himself at Zayn’s entrance. “You ready?” he asked. Zayn nodded, whining when Niall did just that, starting to push in.

“Fuck Niall,” Zayn gasped, “So good. Niall, please, so good.”

“I’ve got you,” Niall assured, rocking in slowly until he bottomed out. “Perfect Zayn, you’re perfect,” he murmured. Pulling out, Niall tentatively pushed back in, knowing Zayn was adjusted enough when he didn’t cry out in pain, only moaned. It didn’t take long for Niall to find a rhythm, the sound of their skin slapping echoing around the room. Reaching up, Niall twisted his fingers in Zayn’s hair, giving it a sharp tug.

“No.” Zayn’s voice was sharp, warning but also a tad shaky. “Don’t.”

“Shit, not okay.” Niall quickly let go, kissing Zayn’s neck in apology. “Alright, that’s not okay. Sorry.”

“’s alright,” Zayn whispered. “Just-”

“-not again,” Niall finished.

“Not again. Now…Ni’, come on. This isn’t going to ruin this.”

Huffing out a laugh, Niall pecked Zayn’s cheek once more before slamming back in. The closer Zayn came to the edge, the more his arms started to shake. Eventually Niall took pity on him; and also the fact that he only had one working hand and it was currently occupied keeping himself balanced. “You can move Zayn. And you’ve gotta help me out here so I want you to get yourself off.” Zayn groaned, dropping to his forearms and wrapping a hand around his length, keening. “That’s it. Come on Zayn.”

The change in angle coupled with the added stimulation was enough to send Zayn over, the other man crying out as his orgasm shook through his body. Niall kept up his punishing rhythm until Zayn was sobbing with oversensitivity, finally letting himself come. Panting through his high, Niall carefully pulled out, tying off the condom and discarding it before flopping down next to Zayn. He offered a lazy smile, Zayn returning it a little awkwardly. Niall frowned at the look, Zayn sighing.

“Sorry I just…the whole hair thing, I…it’s stupid but I…I feel like I’ve been hurt enough for real in my life that I don’t want to bring that into the bedroom, you know?”

“It’s not stupid,” Niall replied immediately. “And Zayn, you don’t need an explanation. You don’t need reasons why you do and don’t like things. Never be sorry for that. But…” he said slyly, carefully taking Zayn’s hand and placing it in his own hair. “If you ever wanna…”

Zayn gently gave a tug, eyes widening as Niall hissed, back arching. “Jesus, you…” Taking a risk, Zayn tightened his fingers and veritably yanked Niall’s head back. The blond groaned loudly. “Could you get hard again?” Zayn wondered aloud. “Just from this?”

“Babe, I’ve come just from this.”

Zayn smashed his lips into Niall’s, keeping him firmly in place. “Then add that to my to-do-list.”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “You have a list. Impressive. You’ll have to show it to me one day. Think I could give a couple of suggestions.”

Zayn’s sunk shut. God have mercy.

***

It was Harry who organised the barbeque at his house, claiming the weather outside was warm enough now and he had a patio so why not? They’d all gone over, crashing on Harry’s deck chairs and passing beers round. Harry was grilling while Liam hovered, worrying over everything until Dani dragged him away. Zayn and Louis were engaged in a rather violent table tennis match, Niall cheering from his chair.

“Malik you fucking shit!” Louis screamed when Zayn smacked the ball right into his face.

“Oi, careful how you talk to my boyfriend,” Niall warned.

Louis poked his tongue out. “Boyfriend, sure. I know Zayn slept with you but-”

“Louis.” Louis froze at Harry’s voice, suddenly hyper aware of how everyone was looking at him. He then looked back at Zayn, who had his arms folded tightly, frame tight.

“Please finish Louis.”

Louis actually jumped the ping pong table, wrapping Zayn in his arms. “Fucking hell, sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you like him. I said you did. Of course you’d ask him out. Jesus, I’m sorry.” He pulled back, only relaxing when Zayn finally unfolded his arms. “And I’m proud of you. So proud. You deserve to be happy. Niall makes you happy.”

“Thanks,” Zayn said, still a little stiff. “Anyway, I’m gonna go sit with my boyfriend.”

Louis’ shoulders drooped. “Zee…”

Zayn shot a look over his shoulder. “Sorry Louis, but you were a dick.” As Louis folded in on himself even more, Zayn finally relented. “Alright, you’re welcome to sit with us. Oh, and by the way, maybe ask Niall for some tips. Harry looks particularly down today.”

Louis screeched before chasing after him. Fortunately Zayn could use Niall as a shield, Niall just as devious as he was, making his eyes wide and protesting that Louis wouldn’t hurt a cripple. Louis so clearly knew he was faking it but he gave in, flumping down beside them. Harry then brought over the food and they all tucked in. He also maybe drew Zayn into a tight hug, kissing his cheek before doing the same to Niall. It looked like they were all in this together now.

***

“You’ve been crying.”

Zayn looked up from where he was reading, Niall standing in the doorway and looking decidedly unimpressed. Zayn shrugged, pushing his tablet to the side. “It was nothing.”

“Right.” Niall’s voice was tense. “So I’ve just been in my room packing my bags for the past hour or two while you’ve been in here crying? Pretty sure you should talk to me when you’re upset. Or, you know, at least let me comfort you.”

“But I was just being stupid!” Zayn protested. “It wasn’t even worth being upset about. I was frustrated more than anything.”

Niall stomped over to the bed, making full use of his now both free arms by taking Zayn’s hands in his. “It upset you. No matter what you might think, if it hurts you it’s not stupid and Zayn, I want to be involved. Include me, please? God knows I’m not here very often as is. The least I can do is be here for you when I am.”

Zayn frowned, caught off guard. “Do you…is that how you feel?”

“It is,” Niall confirmed, shaking his head when Zayn went to comment further. “But we’re talking about you right now. So, what’s wrong…?”

Zayn leant back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. “Louis’ pissing me off at the moment. Like, every time I see him he has some stupid comment about you and I. It’s never mean,” he hastily assured, “Just things like “you look nice and relaxed, Niall take good care of you this morning?” and shit like that. I know he means it in fun but…” Zayn’s hands balled into fists. “Dammit, I’m just sick of it!”

Niall placed a hand on his thigh soothingly. “Reckon he thinks it’s all a laugh. Or he wants to piss you off. Which…maybe once that would have worked but you’re a lot more chilled out now Zayn. You don’t rise to the bait anymore.”

“Yeah, well, that only ever got me in trouble with Liam,” Zayn mumbled. “And like, made me a shit friend. Don’t really wanna go back there.”

“As you shouldn’t,” Niall agreed whole-heartedly, wincing when he heard Raja get stuck in his backpack. “Fucking hell, your cat.” Zayn giggled and Niall rolled his eyes affectionately, pressing their lips together. “Right, leave Louis to me. I’ll be back in a week so just a few more days, alright? And hey, time it right and you might not even have to see him until your next job.”

Zayn nodded thoughtfully at that. “Alright, now go save Raja.”

Niall rapped his head lightly. “You make it sound like a chore. Please, I love your cat.”

Several hours later and Niall very much did not love Zayn’s cat. Neither did Zayn, for that matter. Raja had always been one to curl up on Zayn’s bed, burrow into his side, nuzzle into his neck. Then Niall had come along and Raja had been, shockingly, ecstatic. He often chose Niall’s bed to sleep on when the blond was home and Zayn had, grudgingly, accepted that. However, the longer Niall stayed, the more Raja would swap between their beds, jumping up and down indecisively.

And now he had resorted to going even lower, sitting in the middle of the flat and yowling his head off. Zayn had a pillow stuffed over his head but it wasn’t helping.

“Zayn!” Niall bellowed from his room. “Shut that thing up! I have a flight at 6AM.”

“You shut him up!” Zayn yelled back even as he got to his feet. Stopping at Raja’s side, he hefted the cat up, glaring at him. “And what’s all this? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“No one is sleeping with that noise,” Niall complained from the doorway of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Raja struggled his way out of Zayn’s arms, twisting in and around Niall’s legs. Zayn held up his hands. “Looks like he wants you so you deal with him.” As Zayn walked away, Raja started meowing once more. “Enough,” Zayn whined, kneading his forehead. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oi, don’t leave me with him!” Niall cried, padding after Zayn. Zayn was already diving underneath his duvet, Niall chasing him, straddling his boyfriend’s waist as Raja leapt onto the bed. “Your cat. You look after him.”

Zayn hauled him down, pinning him to the bed with a forearm across the chest. “Our flat. Our-”

Zayn abruptly came to a halt, eyes flying to where Raja was settled between them, purring loudly. Niall was obviously doing the same, muttering profanities under his breath. “Are you serious? Is he whinging because he won’t share us?” Zayn yelped as he was smacked over the head. “How the fuck did you manage to get a cat with the same personality as you?”

“Hey!” Zayn whined, shoving Niall away. “And don’t ask me. He’s needy, that’s all.”

“And you’re not?” Niall asked cheekily before lying down, tucking his head under Zayn’s chin. “I guess…we have to share a room now.”

Zayn hummed thoughtfully before pressing his forehead against Niall’s. “I guess so.”

“For the sake of the cat.”

Zayn chuckled, interlacing their fingers atop Raja’s back, swapping to a full-blown laugh as his beloved pet trilled happily. “For the sake of the cat.”

***

By the time Niall returned from his trip and he and all the boys were working another job together, Harry had been out two weeks. He’d decided to go with a coming out video, filming it himself in his bedroom, a myriad of cameras set up around him. He’d edited together everything he’d wanted to say, the boys all watching it before Harry uploaded it. Harry had sent a copy to Niall, who hadn’t been able to respond properly but had sent back a simple smiley face before he dropped out of range once more. It had gone well and many of Harry’s fans were thanking him, saying how much of an inspiration he was.

As Zayn watched Harry skip around the latest Marc Jacobs set, he couldn’t help but notice how different he was. Harry had blossomed, smile so much brighter and so much more regular. Zayn wasn’t even jealous, too excited about his own opportunity. He had decided to wait a little bit longer. His break-up with Perrie was nearing six weeks ago now and Liam had suggested perhaps they wait until that was a bit more forgotten before Zayn came out. Especially since Zayn had agreed to come out and announce Niall as his boyfriend at the same time.

Speaking of Niall, the blond came up to his side, fingers massaging Zayn’s scalp. “Hey Princess. You’re looking happy.”

Sinking into the touch, Zayn said, “Is it cheesy if I say I’m happy because Harry’s happy?”

He could practically sense Niall’s smile. “No. Think it’s more sweet than anything.”

He probably would have blushed if Louis hadn’t walked past and winked suggestively. “Ooh, what’s he offering you Zayn?”

“More than you’re offering Harry,” Niall shot back, all smiles as Louis balked. “I mean, not for nothing but you can see he’s all but bursting from here. When was the last time you emptied the pipes, so to speak?”

Louis squeaked in indignation as Harry and Liam joined them, eyes curious. “What’s going on?” Liam asked, already looking like he was dreading the answer.

“Niall was just saying Louis needs to up his game,” Zayn smirked, satisfied when Harry turned pink.

“Absence really does make the heart grow fonder,” Niall said, fingers tenderly curling around the back of Zayn’s neck. “And by fonder I mean makes the sex extraordinary.”

“Alright!” Liam interrupted, holding his hands up. “If you four are going to talk sex, I’m out.”

“Aw Li’, don’t be like that!” Louis jeered, dragging him back. “Are you maybe not getting enough? We could arrange to have you sent home early if you want.”

Liam glared at him. “I would be getting plenty if you three-” he looked pointedly at Harry, Louis, and Zayn, “-stopped turning up at my flat every second day, crying about one thing or another.”

No one quite knew what to say to that, the three of them sheepishly toeing at the floor, leaving Niall to pick up the pieces. Of course, Niall’s way of dealing with the situation was to nudge Louis’ balls with his foot, waggling his eyebrows. “You know what I’m thinking could be the best way to solve this? An orgy’s sounding good.”

Both Harry and Zayn protested while Liam took that moment to leave. Louis shamelessly let his eyes rake over Niall’s frame. “Keep talking, I’m listening.”

Before Niall could make a comeback, Zayn sidled up to Harry’s side, murmuring in his ear. Harry grinned slyly, letting Zayn tug at the buttons on his shirt, Louis’ eyes flying over, already on high alert. “I’ve always wondered what your fingers would be like inside,” Zayn whispered, leaning up as if to kiss Harry.

Louis was between them before he could, openly scowling at Zayn and shoving him towards Niall. “Back off Malik.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, letting Niall pull him onto his lap. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep then.” Swivelling around, Zayn drew Niall into a kiss, cupping Niall’s face as the photographer’s tongue probed at his lips.

“No, not at work,” Liam scolded, re-appearing and dragging them apart. “You have work to do so get to it. You can finish this at home and you know it. So, off, go.”

Zayn groaned but reluctantly did as asked. Plus, Liam was right. He was so very right as the instant they walked into the flat, Zayn crowded Niall against the door. “That orgy better have been a joke.”

“Please,” Niall huffed, lightly stroking his fingers down Zayn’s side. “Have you seen how uptight Louis gets when anyone so much as makes an adjustment to Harry’s clothes? Like hell he’d let anyone get near him. Was banking on him getting jealous.”

“Good,” Zayn growled, moving away only to be yanked back, Niall meeting his gaze levelly.

“And excuse me, but who was the one picturing Harry’s fingers inside them? Is that something I should be concerned about?”

“Are you saying you haven’t?” Zayn challenged, knowing he’d won when Niall made a ‘fair enough’ gesture. He then shifted closer, mouthing at Niall’s jaw, fisting his hands in Niall’s hair. Niall jerked as Zayn tugged, mewling loudly and scrabbling at the door behind him uselessly. Nudging his thigh between Niall’s legs, he revelled in the hardness already there. “You weren’t lying. You really do get off on this.”

“Zayn,” Niall pleaded, canting his hips forward, gasping when Zayn pulled his head back once more, cock straining against his jeans.

Letting go, Zayn dropped to his knees, hands swapping to Niall’s belt. “Just remember, no one can touch you like I would.”

***

Can you pick me up from the airport? Twisted my ankle coming down the mountainside.

It is not a good year for you.
And of course. What time?

Zayn was waiting at Heathrow arrivals, constantly checking between his phone and the gate. Niall had texted already to say he’d landed but then followed it up with a message saying customs was being ridiculously slow. Impatiently tapping his foot, Zayn stopped the second he saw the shock of blond hair, relief taking its place. Niall waved at him brightly, laughing when Zayn scooped him up.

“Easy Princess, I weren’t gone that long.”

“No,” Zayn agreed, shouldering Niall’s bag and refusing to listen to any protests. “But I missed my Sunshine.”

Niall melted into his side, intertwining their hands before suddenly realising they were in public. As he made to pull away though, Zayn tightened his grip, shaking his head.

“No one here cares and I wouldn’t even give a fuck if they did.”

Niall outright beamed, squeezing his hand before jumping into the passenger seat of Zayn’s car. Arriving back at the flat, Niall tossed everything in his rucksack into the wash while Zayn drew a bath, opting for the large one closer to Niall’s room. Harry had given him some bath oils and a bath bomb he’d gotten from some organic market so Zayn lobbed those in too.

“Okay, that’s the fanciest smelling bath I’ve ever seen,” Niall commented as he hobbled in, Zayn frowning down at the bandage wrapped around his right ankle. “It’s fine,” Niall stressed upon seeing his worried look. “It’s barely even a twist. Just needs a couple of days rest.”

“Starting now,” Zayn told him, slipping out of his clothes and climbing into the bath. Niall was right behind, unwrapping the bandage before sliding in, groaning as the warmth enveloped his body. “That good huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Leaning over him to grab the body wash, Zayn tipped some into his palm. “Come on, let’s get you clean.” Niall raised an eyebrow but did as Zayn asked. A few minutes later he was practically a puddle of goo, rendered boneless by Zayn’s hands massaging his muscles in all the right ways, soothing out each ache and knot. “Hey,” Zayn called softly, guiding Niall around as his face dropped alarmingly close to the water. “Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“You can carry me,” Niall slurred, letting his head thud against Zayn’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t mean I want to,” Zayn retorted, tilting Niall’s head back as he washed the suds out of his hair. “And I…I was going to say ask but that’s wrong…” He ducked his head down as Niall stared at him curiously. “More like…I have something to say but it’s not something I’ve ever said before so…I don’t know how to…”

“Then just say it,” Niall murmured, outlining Zayn’s tattoos gently.

Zayn shrunk in on himself to the point that Niall was worried but then he sighed heavily, letting his brown eyes find Niall’s bright blue ones. “So, just say it?”

“Just say it,” Niall confirmed.

“I…I suppose I…I wanted to say thank you for helping me with, well, everything. I wasn’t in a good place when I met you and I know you weren’t particularly either but where we’ve come to from there…it’s good. And what I like more is that we actually came out the other side with each other, you know? I like being your boyfriend Niall. I like having you living with me. And I suppose, most of all, what I’m trying to say is…I love you.”

Niall swore his heart stopped.

Zayn tentatively placed his hand on Niall’s chest. “Do you…I don’t know, love me too?”

“Fucking Christ, of course I do,” Niall replied, kissing Zayn desperately. “I swear I’ve loved you since I saw you playing with Toby in Ireland but then I think that’s wrong because I also swear that every day I’m with you I find something else that makes me think I love you.”

Zayn’s bottom lip trembled. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Niall promised.

And maybe Niall decided to give a physical display of that love, guide Zayn’s fingers to his rim, beg him to push inside. Had Zayn fuck him three fingers deep until the bath just became a hindrance more than anything, Zayn lifting him up and carrying him out. And perhaps Niall had pulled him up before he’d left the bathroom, urged Zayn to set him on the counter and fuck him there. The wait as Zayn had dashed off to find a condom had been torture but it had been so worth it when he was being thrust into in one of his favourite positions.

But the best bit had been coming down from his orgasm, his and Zayn’s bodies wrapped around each other, and being able to whisper those three words over and over again:

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

***

In the end, Zayn had gone for simple, subtle. He hadn’t wanted to do a video like Harry, hadn’t wanted to do a public coming out at all. He’d explained it to Liam as straight people never had to announce they were straight, so why should he have to announce that he was anything other than? Liam had nodded in thoughtfulness, giving Zayn his blessing and telling him to do whatever he, and Niall, thought was best.

“You know,” Zayn said one morning, scrolling through the photos on his phone in bed while Niall sat propped up next to him, sorting his latest photos into folders. “I actually really like that picture you took of me and Raja.”

Niall leant over to glimpse the photo in question, eyes softening at it. “It’s a beautiful photo Zayn.”

“Says the one who took it,” Zayn drawled, squawking when Niall tugged on his ear. “Anyway, was thinking, I’ve got one the same of you. Like I made some stills from that video.”

Niall shuffled closer, clearly wondering where this was going. “And? What are you going to do with them?”

Zayn scratched his cheek. “Was thinking…what if we uploaded them, like couple of minutes apart? It’s obvious it’s the same cat and we can, like, tag each other?”

“That’s how you want to come out,” Niall surmised. When Zayn nodded, he smiled. “Of course we can do that love. Also, not going to lie, but that’s sickeningly adorable.” Choosing a photo he liked best and ordering Zayn to upload that specific one, he then opened his own Instagram. “Guess I can make an exception this once, post something other than scenery. What should my caption be?”

“Whatever you want,” Zayn answered, pondering over his own. Before he thought of one his phone lit up with a notification from Niall. He opened it, rolling his eyes at what he saw, even if he did pull Niall to his side and kiss his cheek. “Thanks Sunshine.”

niallhoran: fuck that’s cute @zaynmalik

“It’s what I first thought,” Niall explained with a shrug. “And it’s never stopped being true.”

Kissing him soundly, Zayn reluctantly pulled away, his phone a heavy weight in his palm. He finally unlocked it, typing out enough. He pressed ‘post’.

zaynmalik: it’s you @niallhoran

Niall opened the notification on his own phone, Zayn swearing those blue eyes actually watered up before he was pushed back onto the bed. His phone went off as no doubt Liam and the lads congratulated him but all he cared about was Niall’s lips on his. Because all that he had right now was all that he’d ever need.

***