Summary: Louis pushes Liam to go on a blind date and he agrees, if only to shut him up. He doesn't expect it to go anywhere, and it doesn't. That has more to do with the distractingly attractive waiter than it does his date, though.
By: Scottmcniceass.archiveofourown.org
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Liam stared down at his phone, eyes narrowed. Louis promised the guy would be there by 7:30. It hadn’t been 7:30 for - Liam looked at the time - nearly half an hour.
“Can I get you anything?” someone asked.
Liam looked up into the expectant eyes of his waiter. The guy had a slight smirk on his face, just the left side of his mouth turned up a bit, and wide eyes. Liam tried not to notice the way that the white shirt he was wearing contrasted not only with his skin tone but also with the inky designs on his arms.
“Um,” Liam looked at his phone one more time before closing it with a sigh. “I’ll just have a coffee while I wait.”
The guy wrote that down on his notepad and then frowned at Liam. “You waiting for someone? You’ve been here almost half an hour.”
Liam shifted uncomfortably. He was aware of how pathetic he looked. In fact, he was aware of how pathetic blind dates were, too, but Louis had insisted, and Liam was kind of helpless where Louis was concerned, because Louis vaguely terrified him.
“He was supposed to be here when I got here,” Liam admitted. “Or she, actually.” Because Louis hadn’t specified whether the date was a girl or a guy, and Liam hadn’t asked because he didn’t really plan on making anything of tonight anyways, not that he really had a preference for either sex. Liam liked people, that was it. There was no comparing of soft skin versus calloused hands, or sweet perfume versus spicy cologne. He liked both.
“Aren’t you a little young for a blind date?” the guy questioned, tucking his pen behind his ear. Liam couldn’t help but think that it probably would have been just as secure in his high-styled hair.
“I’m not that young,” Liam protested.
“How old are you, then?” the guy demanded boldly.
Liam blinked at him. “Twenty.” His eyes raked over the boy’s nametag. “What about you, Zayn?”
Zayn’s smirk was full blown now. “Twenty-one. And I think you’re a bit too young and, to be quite honest,” Zayn leaned down a bit so that Liam got a strong whiff of some delicious cologne that seemed to be laced with the smoky smell of cigarettes, “too attractive for a blind date.”
Liam jerked back, just a bit, and Zayn straightened, smirk still in place.
“I’m so sorry,” said a feminine voice to their left. “Liam, right? I’m Danielle. Louis - the prick- gave me the name of the wrong restaurant, and-,”
Liam stood up and Zayn stepped back so that Danielle could get through. “That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Louis has a habit of those types of things.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Danielle had soft brown eyes and a wide smile that was not malicious at all, a complete contrast to the sharp eyes and the annoyed smirk on Zayn’s face. She sat down in the booth and Liam followed.
“Menus, then?” Zayn asked. Liam noted the way his voice sounded lower and more resigned than it had just moments ago.
“Yes, please,” Danielle said politely, all the while her eyes were on Liam.
Zayn left them to read over the menus after that, but Liam didn’t miss the way Zayn’s fingers slid against the palm of his hand when he’d passed Liam his menu, or the way Zayn had winked at him as he backed away from their table.
