One Thing - A Ziam Story

Chapter 3: Whispers

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POV: Zayn

After getting over the surprise of seeing Liam in my Guns 'n Roses shirt and ignoring the blush that was undoubtedly showing on my cheeks, I realized I was standing in just my boxers.  Sure, we'd all had our fair share of run-ins with a significant lack of clothing, but something about being there, standing in the bus aisle between our bunk beds at 7 am, with Harry, Louis, and Niall asleep in the background, gave the atmosphere a different feeling.  Tense, but not uncomfortable.  Blush-worthy for sure.  I dragged my gaze upwards so our eyes could meet, but I noticed Liam had different plans.  He was just staring at me, everywhere but my eyes, and he had this look about him.  I couldn't quite place it, but his eyes looked a bit different.  Kind of like how they look when Geoff calls but he isn't able to pick up.  Yes, there was want in his eyes, but it was different, maybe...lust-full?  Ok, it's way too early in the morning to try to read Liam's facial queues.  We stood in silence for a few moments before I decided it was time to break the tension.

"Hey, Li, how was your jog?"  I asked, keeping it simple.

He snapped out of his trance and looked up at me.  Was that guilt?  "Yeah, it was good.  Just needed to sort some stuff out," he said vaguely.  My mind screamed 'What kind of stuff,' but looking at his face it seemed like he couldn't quite shake the fact that I was randomly standing there, so bare, with the intimate space between us.

"Ok.  That's great.  Sorry about this," I loosely gestured to my bare chest.  "You see, I woke up missing a shirt," a smirk made its way onto my face, because once you got over the weirdness the situation was quite funny.  Liam seemed a bit lost in thought, though.

He looked up at me, and his eyes bore into mine, as though trying to read much deeper into my superficial morning small talk.  Our gaze remained locked for a second, before I noticed movement at the bottom of my peripheral view.  Was he...yes, I think he was!  His hands were at the hem of his, or rather, my, shirt.  Without removing his eyes from mine, he slowly pulled his shirt up, revealing the rock-hard abs and soft tan skin that had haunted my dreams just hours before. 

"Here you go, Zayn," he said softly, his voice a husky whisper, handing me my shirt.

I just continued standing, hands crossed over my chest, mouth agape.  Wow, I can't believe he did that!  That was so fucking hot.  Like, objectively. Liam taking off a tight shirt.  Everyone's dream, right?  My eyes focused on his face again, and he was watching me intently, a hint of insecurity creeping its way into his eyes as he must have realized what he did, probably something he only decided to do in the moment.  I was practically salivating at the sight of him standing so close to me and holding me under such a strong gaze, and I slowly wet my lips before extending my hand and taking my shirt.

I quickly ran my eyes up and down his body once more before saying, "Liam, you can keep the shirt if you want."

"Nah Zayn, it's fine.  We still have a few hours before we have to leave for interviews.  I saw a laundromat on my jog.  Do you wanna come along?"  he asked, a longing present in his eyes.

I suddenly became a bit excited.  It would be really nice spending some quality time with Liam alone.  As much as we loved the rest of the lads and their antics, we were definitely closer in personality to each other than to them.  And whenever we hung out, the rest of boys were always present in the background.

"Of course, Li," I said softly, a smile making its way onto my face.  Liam's face had been tense till now, probably unsure of my response, but upon seeing my reaction he slowly smiled, too.

"Alright.  Let's collect clothes now!" he exclaimed quietly, so as not to wake the others, mimicking a superhero.  I shook my sheets out, and some socks and underwear fell out.  I wrinkled my nose and tossed them into the pile Liam had begun to make on the floor space between our beds.  Yeah, I was not the neatest at all.  That would be Harry, if Louis didn't corrupt him so much.