ziam smut

So High, Like I'm A Star

The second time the joint was passed back to him, he lit it up and took another hit. He didn't hold it in nearly as long though, entirely too focused on the two boys who were making-out in front of him. Harry's beanie laid on the ground beside them as Louis' fingers ran through his head of curls giving a good yank and swallowing back the moan that left the younger boy's mouth. "Jesus Christ," Niall groaned, "get a room you two," he said and Louis looked over to him with low, red eyes and a smirk on his face. "As if you wouldn't want to watch," he laughed, returning back to the younger boy pulling him down to the floor with him. "You gonna pass it, Malik?" The red-head stared at him as he looked over with an apologetic look as he handed them over. He leaned back against the doors again, his iPhone that sat in his pocket now felt like it was burning a hole into his skin. His fingers tingled at the thought of picking it up and typing out a text message that written a thousand times, but never had the guts to send it.

I'm sorry.
I hope nobody has replaced me.
God I fucked up.
Liam i'm so damn sorry that i'm such a god damn idiot.

"Niall," the blond whined up at him, reaching up and grabbing at his t-shirt pulling back with a giggle. Zayn watched her running her hand down her chest circling around her navel and traveling back up never taking her eyes off of him. His palms became sweaty at the images of Liam rolling through his head like an old film strip. He exhaled sharply, reaching up and running his fingers through his quiff-styled hair, taking another deep breath in and out trying to pass the lightheaded feeling. He closed his eyes tight, holding his breath so long he could actually hear his voice, running his fingers down the exposed skin of his neck as he breathed out hard again, his phone heavy in his pocket. His mind went in fast circles, and god he could barely breath. He had to get out, he had to get the hell out of here. From the sound of the constant pelt against the outside, he knew it was still raining, harder then before even. He blinked a few times, rubbing his hands over the carpeting trying to ignore the fact that Harry and Louis were practically groping each other both half-naked. "Jesus Christ Lou," Harry breathed out, and Zayn's thoughts went foggy hearing Liam's voice, he could tell how broken it was now.

So that it, you're just going to give up like this, huh?

I'm sorry we couldn't make this work.

No you aren't.

Niall turned on music, it was loud and funky. The beat that seemed to swirl through Zayn's body, wrapping around him like a blanket as he sat there zoning in and out of life. He closed his eyes again, feeling goosebumps roll up and down his skin, rippling down his spine as his back arched and he felt a hand on his shoulder. His body jolted as his eyes shot open, and he focused on the girl sitting in front of him on her with dark brown hair that hit just at her shoulders. "What?" He found himself saying, a bit too fast and anxious. She gave him a puzzled look, shrugging her shoulders and licking her lips. "Want to make out?" She asked, and Zayn really could not fucking breath. He could only imagine what Liam was doing, who Liam was with, oh god. He needed to leave.

Zayn remembers struggling to sit up, and pushing the doors of the van open and jogging out into the rain ignoring the loud yells that came from the Irish boy. He kept sprinting through the rain, until he was out of breath and he bent over hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. He reached inside his pocket, grabbing out his iPhone and unlocking it swiping the rain-dotted screen with his sleeve watching as the screen looked pixelated until he wiped it again and his fingers danced over the button leading to his contacts. You can do this, Zayn. Just text him.

The long list of names stretched in front of him, flying quickly past his eyes as he scrolled down to see Liam. He heart beat so fast he really, really couldn't fucking do this. He remembers opening up a new text message and having to hold himself back from scrolling through their old texts.