Niall: "It sucks you aren't down here with me," he tells you as you settle into bed, the laptop sitting on the bed while you finish up the work you had brought home. "I know, Australia was always my favorite." He was back on the road now, both of you would now have to work twice as hard to stay in touch. "What are you working on?" "Just trying to figure out the best window treatments for the Washington Square project." You had brought your work home with you so you could have this time to talk to him, having to work around the sixteen hours between you now. "How is that going?" You look up from the samples book in your lap, recognizing that all of his questions meant he actually just wanted your attention. "It's going great," you answer with a smile. "I miss you," he adds. "Oh, don't start that. You know I don't handle talk like that well." It was the truth. You had actually banned him from saying those three words all together. Clearly someone listens well. "What? I can't help it. I do." You shake your head, "I don't want to hear it." "Okay well what do you want to hear?" "I want to hear how excited you are to be back on tour." "I am loving it, so ready. But it would be much better if you were here with me." "Niall, babe!" You whine, he was doing this on purpose now. "What!?" He had a menacing smile that gave his intentions away. "Please change the subject." "I don't think I can do that. I want you here with me." "Niall." He was going to fight you on this, you knew it. "No. I do. I need you." "Oh, you need me now." His story was changing. "Yeah. I've been going crazy without you these last couple of weeks." "Really? Going crazy?" The tone of your voice had changed to intrigue. "Yeah, I miss you a lot." "What do you miss about me?" Two could play this game. "Everything. Your cooking, the way I always came home to you in the bath, the smell of your hair in my face when you're on top of me." "I certainly hope no one else is in that dressing room with you." "Nope, it's just me." Noted. "So you said you need me there. What would you do if I was there?" "You see that couch back there?" He questions, turning the camera slightly so you can see behind him. "I see that couch back there." "Well I wouldn't be using it, because you would be up against that door the second you walked in." "I love the sound of that. What else?" He was going to hate you after this. "You would scratch me up, like you do, but we would have to be quiet, so I would have my hand over your mouth because I know you like to let everyone know how good I make you feel." "I do, every single time, because you feel so fucking good inside of me." "Fuck." You were torturing him now. "Continue please," you urge with a smile. "You would have one of your legs on my chest while I held the other in my arm." "You have a lot of faith in my flexibility, it seems." "I've fucked you against a wall several times, I know how well you bend." "So wait, you would fuck me against the door first? When do I get to taste you?" "No time for that. It would be over in a second, and then I couldn't enjoy being inside of you. That gets saved for after the show." "Understandable, I guess. Still pretty disappointing." "Yeah, I know how you like me deep in your mouth." Damn, now he was getting to you. "So fucking deep." "Niall!" You hear over on his end, followed by a banging on the door behind him. "Why the hell is this door locked?" "You locked the door?" You question with laughter. He shrugs his shoulders, before looking down in his lap. "I fucking hate you, you know that?" "Hey don't hate me, you clearly had the same intentions I did Mr. Door Locker."
Louis: Thank God it was the weekend. You needed a break. Classes were picking up, and you were barely hanging on. You didn't want to open your eyes, certain it was far too early for you to be awake. You desperately wanted to fall back asleep. You roll over, eyes still closed, but your body is stopped. Your eyes shoot open. You let out a deep breath once you realize it was only Louis. Wait. Louis? What was he doing here? You had sent him back home not three days ago and here he was in your bed. What was going on with him? You slowly turn back over to your original spot, knowing you hadn't woken him up. You're wide awake now. Why would he have come back so soon? You had just told him that you wanted to start over and that he needed to go home. You hadn't told him how long to stay home, but you thought it was clear that he should stay over in the UK until he went back on tour. Did he not believe you when you said you could handle it? Apparently not. You get out from under the covers. It was pointless to lay there when you know you aren't going to be able to fall back to sleep. You take your phone with you to the living room, the time on the screen indeed showing you that it was way too early to be awake. You flip on the television and collapse onto the couch. What a lovely way to spend the morning. You get up from the couch, realizing you hadn't started the kettle. You drag your feet into the kitchen and turn the kettle on, desperately needing caffeine if you were going to be up at this time. You open the cupboard to get the tea out only to find a note stuck to the side of the box. 'Please don't be mad that I came back. I just want to spend time with you before the shows start up again'. Well, okay. How could you argue with reasoning like that? You move over to the fridge, pushing aside everything to find the cream. 'I know I'm probably just now starting to wake up, but know it was great to fall asleep with you beside me last night'. Another note, this one stuck to the carton. There had to be one on your mug then. You bring the cream out and sit it beside the kettle before walking over and opening the cupboard door to reveal your vast array of mugs. Sure enough there was another note, this one attached to the Port Jackson mug, your favorite. 'You better be making tea this morning or these are hopeless. I'm probably awake now if you want to come back to the bedroom'. He was good, you gave him that. You head back to the bedroom, each note stuck to a different finger. As his early-morning-self had predicted, he was indeed awake and smiling at you as you walked in the door. "You aren't mad, are you?" He questions as you crawl back in beside him. "No, I am not mad." It was the truth. You weren't mad. However, you weren't sure exactly what you were. Confused possibly. Yes, definitely confused. But why couldn't you express that? He needs to know that it isn't okay that he drops all of his responsibilities to come and be with you. You thought you had made that clear a few days ago, but you clearly needed more work in that area. You love him. He clearly loves you, but this is starting to become stifling. You weren't at all convinced that he was only doing this because he wants to spend time with you. It would be nice and a lot simpler to solve if that were the case, but it just isn't. "I missed you," he says, and you wonder how. You'd barely had any time apart since news broke that the two of you were together. Maybe this would blow over though. He did have to go on tour soon; that was something he would not be able to get out of, no matter how many phone calls he made. You could wait it out until then. Having him around wasn't a terrible thing. You should be enjoying these moments. He wouldn't be around for months once these last few days of freedom are over. What are you even worrying about?
Zayn: "Are you almost done?" He questions as you stand in the closet, in front of the mirror once more. This was the third night out with him this week; you had to make sure your look was perfect. "Yeah, let me just get my shoes on," you answer back knowing he had been lying on the bed for a while now waiting on you. "You look amazing," he says softly, getting up from the bed to walk over to you as you stand in front of the vanity. "I have to make sure I make you look good," you tell him in honesty. "You don't ever have to worry about not making me look good." He presses a kiss amongst your hair before picking up the diamond pendant necklace from your jewelry box. You pull your hair back and allow him to put it on you. You find the matching earrings and fix your hair back to see how everything looks together. "Perfect," he says in your ear. Your cheeks flush at his compliment. It had been so long since this side of Zayn had come out. These last few days had been such a surprise. You pick up your bottle of Chanel, but he stops you, "Wear this one." He picks up the bottle of Tom Ford and places it in your hand. "I like this one better." Of course, anything to keep this Zayn around for longer. You spray the jasmine scent on your neck and wrists before sitting it back on the vanity and taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. "Ready?" You turn and smile. He nods towards the door and the two of you head out to dinner. "Where are we going tonight?" You ask as you get into the backseat of the awaiting car. "Ledbury," he answers as he slides in behind you. "That place is amazing, it's one-" "Of your favorites, I know." You smile, he hadn't taken you to Ledbury in over a year. You take the short drive over to Notting Hill, Zayn showing you all of the places he has written and recorded with other artists along the way. You were surprised at all of the sessions he hadn't told you about, not recognizing any of the places he was pointing out. Once on Ledbury Road, the driver parks the car as close to the restaurant as possible before getting out and opening the backdoor. Zayn gets out first, holding his hand out for you to take. You stare at it and almost laugh. He was going all out tonight, and he obviously wanted you to notice. You take his hand and he escorts you onto the sidewalk. "Cheers man," he says to the driver, shaking his hand before turning back to you. "Alright, let's get out of the cold." He wraps his arm around you, keeping you warm, as the two of you walk to dinner. The moment you walk through the door, the hosting staff's eyes are locked on you. "Welcome to The Ledbury," the woman behind the hostess stand greets with a bright smile. "Your table is right over here, Mr. Malik," she assures, as she escorts you back through the tables, while the other two staff members remain beside the stand, one talking in his headset. "Is this alright?" She asks before placing the wine list on the table. "Yes, this is great, thank you," Zayn confirms with a smile after looking around to see that the area met his requests. You take the seat across from him, the candle burning at the center of the table illuminating the angles of his face. You weren't sure how things had ended up like this. How the two of you could actually be sitting here, smiling at one another and being genuinely happy to be in the presence of the other. "I love you," he says, reaching for your hand across the table. "I love you," you reply, exaggerating the last word so he knows you mean it just the same. This is the kind of relationship with him you had been missing, and these last few nights out had shown you that he was no longer allowing his negative emotions to police him. Instead, he was giving into the emotions he once possessed, the ones you fell in love with.
No Control -LOUIS AF BYE
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