I'll Get Over The Way You Got Over Me

Chapter 7

He takes a break for a few days, stays in with Niall and Harry and watches a few films, stays in by himself and Skypes his mum, and then he goes out again, after about a week, because Zayn and Louis order pizza and eat it together in the Mystery Machine, and Liam wants to bloody scream, because he's tried so hard and he still, he still can't make himself stop wanting them around, wanting them to want him around.

That's probably why he—

He's drinking in one of the VIP booths, not drunk yet but pretty sure he will be by the end of the night, and there's this guy, out on the dance floor, looking at him like. Like he wants Liam to come closer, basically, like he wants Liam to come dance with him, and he has light hair and bright eyes and Liam can't make out much in the flashing purple lights of the club, but he's small, smaller than Liam definitely, and Liam hasn't had a shag in bloody ages, and he thinks—alright. He's not going to be bringing this lad home, probably, but he'll dance. He doesn't need Zayn.

He pushes out of his seat, tells his security guard he's going to dance, and then he's pushing through the crowd until he reaches the boy, who's not as short as he looked up close but still only reaches up to Liam's jaw, and his smile is bright enough to be captivating. "Took you long enough," he greets, tongue in cheek, and Liam's sort of charmed, honestly. He puts a hand on Liam's hip, bolder than Liam would be in his place, and Liam doesn't need Zayn, so he leans into it. Puts his hand on the boy's neck, where his skin is a little sweaty and his hair brushes Liam's fingers, and they dance.

The boy's name is Noah, he tells Liam a few songs later, close enough to Liam's ear that he has to be standing on his tiptoes to reach, and Liam tries it out in his mind, Noah. He likes it, he thinks, pulling Noah a little bit closer by his hips, and Noah grins up at him, eyes blazing. Liam thinks he could probably take him back to the hotel, if he wanted. (He thinks maybe he does, want to that is, but he's not sure he should; he's not sure he'd be taking him home for the right reasons. He's not sure hooking up with someone to prove to himself that he doesn't need Zayn is a very good idea. He's not drunk enough for any of this).

Noah is rolling his hips against Liam's, keeping with the beat of the music, one arm slung over Liam's shoulder, the other wrapped around Liam's waist, and it's not really all that dirty, honestly, it really is only dancing, but his head is thrown back, (to look up at Liam, probably), and Liam—Liam wraps a hand in Noah's sweaty hair and leans down and fastens his lips over his neck where it's exposed, and Noah shivers in his arms. His skin tastes salty, and his pulse is thundering under Liam's lips, and Liam is half-tempted to throw morals out the window and invite him home either way, honestly, when Noah says, "Not that I'm not enjoying this," and Liam nips at his collarbone, cheekily, and Noah chokes out, "shit, fuck, because I really am," and Liam grins, smugly, against his skin, until Noah finishes with, "but there's a girl filming us on her phone over there."

It's sort of like someone threw cold water at him, the way Liam stands up, suddenly, hand still tangled in Noah's hair and lips probably very red, and looks over his own shoulder at where Noah's looking, and—there is a girl, though she lowers her camera and scurries away the minute Liam locks eyes with her, and Liam feels dread spread through his veins because, shit, that—shit.

It's not like he. He doesn't think. That will be all over the internet in minutes, probably, and there's fuck all Liam can do to stop it, and it's not like he's embarrassed to be caught snogging a boy, or whatever, but—he's pretty sure there are people who will take offense, people who will call him nasty things maybe, and call the whole band nasty things, and, shit, he wasn't even thinking about them and what might happen if he—and he thinks their management will be angry with him, probably, for cocking up so royally.

Noah's hand slides around his back, curls in his shirt. "Did I just get you in a lot of trouble?" he asks, and he sounds genuinely sorry about it, if that's the case.

"Maybe," Liam admits, turning back to look at him. There's a dark mark on his throat already, and Liam doesn't really want to consider how many more might show up in a few hours. "Suppose I better go before I make it worse, yeah," he adds, smiling a little wryly, and Noah laughs at him, but not in a mean way. Liam likes him. He thinks if things weren't so messed up in his head right now, with Zayn and—he thinks he might have wanted him to stick around a bit, maybe.

As it is, though, he pulls himself away easily enough, glances around furtively before pressing a quick kiss to Noah's hand in parting, and hurries away, the sound of Noah's pleased laugh echoing in his ears long after he leaves the club. Despite knowing he's most likely in a world of trouble, (it's not that their management will mind that he's been caught kissing a boy, specifically. It's more that they will mind that he's been caught kissing anyone, in a nightclub in Australia, when he's supposed to be smarter than that. When they're all supposed to be smarter than that), he smiles softly most of the way back to the hotel.

~