"What do you have in here, a dead body?" Harry complains, trying to keep the suitcase from clanging against the stairs but it doesn't work. They are only on the second floor, thankfully, because the elevator is closed for repair.
Zayn grins, following behind him with two duffel bags in each hand. He doesn't have a lot of things, most of his belongings still at his childhood home in Bradford, but it feels like a lot when he had been trying to pack them into as few bags and boxes as possible.
"Yeah, your boyfriend's."
Harry lets out a sigh of relief as he steps onto the second floor's landing. "Don't get mad at him, he doesn't know that you get a proper stiff over his best mate."
"I do not," Zayn denies coolly, shoving past Harry with a grin on his lips.
Harry rolls his eyes as he follows behind him. "Don't act like I didn't see you at the footie game last year -"
"Shut up," Zayn snaps, turning to glare at him before he steps up to their flat's door. It is cracked open already, since they have been moving in all morning. Harry moved in yesterday, where he found out that someone was given the extra room -
(Which is completely Harry's fault because it was supposed to be his, but he insisted on sharing with Nialler even though Zayn thought it to be daft. They just started dating at the end of the last school year, only a few months ago.)
"'Oh my god, Haz. Who is that? Look at those arms -'"
Zayn punches him hard in the shoulder to get him to shut up. It works, but Harry's face crumples into a frown as he drops his suitcase loudly by the front door.
"That was unnecessary, you arse. I'm just saying that maybe this will give you the chance to finally grow the balls to ask him to help you with it. And you'll be thanking Niall later -"
Zayn goes to punch him again as Niall pads out from the hallway, an apple in his hand, brows furrowed as he chews. His sweater is much too big on him, bunching around the wrists and hanging way past his hips, his blonde tipped hair a wreck around his head. He had been sprawled out on the couch when they first walked, asleep and hanging halfway off the couch.
"Thanking me for what?"
"For suggesting we all go out tonight," Harry says instantly, giving Zayn a look that makes the urge to punch him harder to resist. "Us, Payner and Tommo. Like a roommate bonding thing or whatever. Get to know each other,"
Niall's face brightens, lips quirking up high into his cheeks as he points at Zayn, missing the way Harry wiggles his eyes at Zayn as he says the last part. "You got it, laddy. Harry said he reckoned you were going to be resistant about coming with us."
Zayn has always liked Niall, and it is kind of hard not to with the way his laughter is addictive and there is always a pleasant smile on his face. You always know when you are in the same room with him, louder than everyone no matter what crowd it is. Like Harry, social and the life of the party. The only reason Zayn can find to explain maybe why they work.
"He thinks I hate going out but I just hate him," Zayn utters as he shuffles through the large living room. It is messy, clothes strewn on the floor and opened pizza boxes laid out on the table. Xbox games are piled up all around the television, mixed in with movies and textbooks that are old and worn looking. The ground could use a good vacuuming, and Zayn is thankful he hadn't taken up his mum's offer on helping him move into the apartment because she would absolutely go crazy at the state of it.
The hallway to their bedrooms is a bit narrow where the first two bedrooms are, his elbows nearly clacking against the walls on either side as he pads through. It forms a cul-de-sac at the end, where the bathroom, Zayn's bedroom and Liam Payne's bedroom is -
His room isn't too small, fitting a desk, dresser and his bed comfortably though it is smaller than the others. There is a window with a ledge big enough that he can sit on, which had been his reason for choosing this room when Niall had given him the tour a few weeks ago. The view isn't spectacular, but at least he can hang out of the window when the air becomes too cold to suit up for a smoke.
He places the duffel bags he carries on his bare mattress as Harry trucks in behind him and drops his suitcase. It clangs loudly on the ground and even though his camera equipment isn't inside that suitcase, Harry doesn't know that.
"Careful with my stuff," Zayn snaps, grabbing the suitcase from the ground to move it out of the way of the door. "What if my cameras were in here?"
Harry rolls his eyes. "Like you would let me bring that in," he says seriously. Zayn doesn't say anything in response, because he is right. Zayn doesn't let anyone touch his stuff, especially not the things that cost more than anything else he owns. And especially not Harry, who has two left feet and a knack of falling for seemingly no reason.
"Don't think about ditching us tonight," Harry goes on, shoving his fingers into the pockets of his skin tight jeans. "We are going out tonight and I am dragging you out of this bedroom if you even try to put up a fight. And don't say you're skyping your Mum again like you always do, 'cause I don't know why Mummy Trish can only do it after eight -"
Zayn just turns away and tunes out Harry to unzip one of the duffel bags. There is no point in arguing, because Harry would actually drag him out of his room, but tonight he doesn't have a show so he doesn't need to lie to Harry.
He is just nervous about being around Liam and Harry constantly talking about it makes him even more nervous.
"You need to loosen up, mate. Get a good shag in you. Who knows, maybe Liam -"
Zayn chucks a balled up pair of socks at him to get him to stop. "I'm plenty loose mate. Made sure of it last night while you were gone."
Harry groans, eyes clenching shut as he rushes out of his bedroom, making Zayn laugh in his wake.
+*
Zayn sighs, peering at the mess around his room. This is what he hates about moving, having to put everything away. He shoves most of his clothes into the drawers, only hanging up a few. His supplies and books stay packed in boxes on top of his desk, only leaving enough room for his computer. His camera equipment is still boxed, shoved in between the wall in his bed, along with the shelf he plans on putting up and he feels too lazy to unpack everything.
Niall and Harry had gone out to pick up groceries and drinks, leaving Zayn by himself. He doesn't mind being alone, even craves it sometimes. He can listen to his music loudly while he procrastinates without having to hear Harry tease him about all his music being sex music. Half of it isn't, but the slow drawled out lyrics and sensual beats make it seem like it.
Zayn pads into the hallway with his shower caddy, the only thing he has really managed to unpack other than his clothes and bedding, wiggling his hips to watch while I undress, let me show you some when he spots Liam's door .
"Don't," Zayn tells himself quietly, halting his movements. "Invasion of privacy,which you hate -"
He ignores himself, gently pushing open the door and peeping his head in like he is afraid Liam might pop out of it and get angry that he is snooping.
Liam had moved in the day before according to Harry, and everything of his is unpacked from what Zayn can see. His desk is neat and organized with labeled office rubbermaids and his textbooks stacked neatly beside his laptop. A few photographs stand on top of his dresser and his bed is made neatly, just like his mother does it - black and white pillow with their corners tucked and propped up against his headboard, a black comforter tucked under the mattress and pulled back at the top to reveal the red sheets underneath. The room is bare of anything else, nothing on the floor and only a Man of Steel movie poster tacked to the wall beside his bed.
It is so neat, especially compared to the tornado that is usually his room that he kind of wants to peek in his drawers and see if they just have things shoved in them in order to make his room neat, but that is really overstepping -
Zayn's heart jumps when he hears the front door open, and he quickly but carefully closes Liam's before he turns to head back towards the bedroom.
"Absolute shit mate. I would have told that bird to fuck off -"
He recognizes the Tommo's voice over the music, but not the soft giggle that follows his words. It is a beautiful sound, making Zayn walk back out of the bathroom even though he had been considering hiding in it.
His breath catches in his throat when he sees Liam, a white t-shirt with grease stains at the bottom stretching across his chest, his jeans sagging past his hips enough for Zayn to see the black briefs that stick out around the top. He wears his leather jacket like normally, and a smile that makes the crinkles by his eyes deep and his cheeks bunch up and Zayn feels like he might just burst from the way it makes his chest feel.
Liam stops dead in his tracks when he spots Zayn, stiffening considerably as the smile slips off of his lips and his brows furrow. Zayn can feel his cheeks burn under Liam's gaze and he shifts awkwardly, cupping the back of his neck as he tries to come up with something to say.
"Zayn, right?" Louis intercepts after Zayn parts his lips a few times because he can't seem to find his voice. They have only met once before, but everyone knows Louis Tomlinson - football captain and Niall Horan's best mate.
"Yeah," Zayn says, not holding his hand out even if it feels rude not to.
"Louis Tomlinson," Louis introduces before clapping Liam hard on the chest. He jolts like he hadn't been expecting it, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. "Payno, Liam Payne. The quiet one of the bunch."
Zayn's eyes flit back to Liam, who only nods as if agreeing that is his name. He looks tense and uncomfortable, brows furrowed as he glances at Zayn.
"Nice to meet you," Zayn finally manages, hoping to sound light enough to ease the awkwardness of the whole situation. He knows it must fail, because Liam cringes when he speaks like he is discomforted by the sound of Zayn's voice.
Louis' brows furrow too, an amused smile crossing his lips. It reminds him of Harry's, the same grin he gets right before he says something he thinks is funny, which usually never is.
Liam nods jerkily, hand sliding around the back of his neck like Zayn's had a moment ago. "Yeah, you too. Erm - excuse me, though. Need a shower. Been at work all day."
Zayn steps aside to let him pass, trying not to notice how he smells like motor oil and cigarettes and how that shouldn't be something that arouses him, but it does. Louis keeps looking at him, that amused smile growing.
"Gonna be fun, yeah?"
Zayn only shrugs before he ducks back into his room, exhaling in deep the moment he is inside in hope that his heart will calm down. He wonders if he could survive staying in here forever. He knows Harry will bring him food, and he has his computer to make a source of income for rent -
Zayn groans, knocking his head against the back of his door as he runs a hand down his face. Great.