Zayn likes when the bookstore is quiet, when he can hear the soft music overhead and he can stock the shelves without being distracted. By customers at least, but the new employee seems to be almost as bad as them.
"Tell me where these go again?"
Zayn sighs, trying his hardest not to be rude but he new employee - Jamie or something, is driving him nuts. Zayn has told them twice already today where the mystery section is. The bookshop isn't that large, and there is a sign hanging above each one.
Zayn is tired, so his patience is more limited than normal and it isn't Jamie's fault, so he gives them a weak smile as he points towards the sign across from them.
"Okay, thanks. And by the way, some guy is at the front asking for you," they says, nudging their head towards the front of the store. "Fit, you know, muscley kind."
Zayn glowers at them before he slides the book he is holding onto the shelf. Jamie only shrugs before Zayn turns away, jealousy making his stomach sour.
His heart leaps into his throat, before he eyes Liam. A reaction to him he hasn't gotten used to yet, but reckons he never wants to.
It is worse when he sees Liam, a soft smile on his lips, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks bunched up. He holds two cups of coffee up, wiggling his brows as Zayn comes over.
"Life saver," Zayn practically moans, taking the cup Liam holds out towards him. He had missed his alarm, waking up to a sweaty Liam just back from his run coaxing him awake, and hadn't had time to stop before going to work.
"An apology," Liam chuckles. He ducks forward, placing a kiss against Zayn's nose. "For keeping you up so late last night."
Zayn grins as he sips at his coffee. He definitely doesn't mind, doesn't mind Liam keeping him up with a hand gripping his throat and lips in his ear, moaning out compliments like he gets off on them as much as Zayn does.
(And he is sore, but he definitely doesn't mind, it lets him think about the way Liam had dicked into him roughly, contrasting with the gentle way he had slotted their lips together.)
"And," Liam sighs, dragging a thumb against the finger shaped bruise at the column of his neck. "For that too."
"Don't have to apologize," Zayn says shyly as he cups Liam's cheek. He drops his voice into a whisper, just in case his coworker is near. "Just fuck me gentle tonight."
Liam presses his groan to Zayn's lips and when he pulls away after a moment, he has a wounded look on his face.
"I'm going to see me mum after work. But I'll be only gone the night," he promises, even though he doesn't have to.
"Gonna tell her about me?" Zayn asks before he can think about it. He flushes, eyes going wide but Liam only laughs.
"Babe, I did that weeks ago."
It doesn't help the flush in his cheeks, but makes it worse and he tries to hide it behind his cup but Liam curls fingers around his wrist to pull his hand down, laughing at him harder. Zayn wants to kiss him to be quiet, to ease the flutter in his heart but he isn't sure it is appropriate at work. (Even if there aren't any customers, it would be his luck that his boss would walk in at the exact moment their lips touched.)
"She will hate me," Zayn murmurs, pouting at him when Liam cups a hand at the back of his head to pull him close. He flicks Liam in the neck gently, tapping a mouth shaped bruise over his birthmark.
Liam grimaces. "I'll tell her um, like I hit a mailbox."
"With your neck?" Zayn huffs out, clenching his eyes shut as his body curves away from Liam with the force of his laughter. It disturbs the quiet of the bookshop, but for once Zayn doesn't mind it.
Liam shrugs. "I'll think of something babe, real convincing. Don't worry."
Zayn rolls his eyes, giving in to kissing Liam because he can't help it. He pecks his lips quickly, over and over again. "That doesn't sound convincing, love."
Liam's shoulder tucks towards his chin as he giggles, fingers tickling against Zayn's belly. "Trust me."
Liam lingers in the bookshop for a bit longer, jumping from topic to topic like he doesn't want to leave, because they won't see each other tonight. It feels silly, laughable that Zayn feels like he can't deal with less than twenty four hours without Liam, but he ignores it.
He ignores it until he drags himself through the quiet house later that night, the television still on and glowing in the living room, dirty plates of food on the table that he doesn't have the energy to put into the sink. He expects a sleepy smile taking over his vision as he shuffles into the living room, but there isn't one -
Zayn tiptoes into Liam's room, cautious like he is afraid he is going to get caught - even though he knows Liam wouldn't mind. He doesn't bother turning on the light, only kicks off his shoes and slips out of his jeans, fingers tucking into the sleeves of Liam's hoodie before he flops into his bed.
The sheets are unmade, the bed rumpled at the end and he frowns, knowing Liam makes the bed as soon as he rolls out of it (or, drags Zayn out of it). He tugs the comforter over him, sliding his palm over the pillow Liam always sleeps on when they sleep together to tuck it closer to his chest.
His fingers scrape over paper and he frowns again, rolling over the flick on the lamp that sits beside Liam's bed.
It is a piece of paper ripped from one of Liam's composition notebooks, folded in half with the word boyfriend scribbled in Liam's messy hand writing at the top. He is still overwhelmed that they have finally defined what they are, that Liam mentioned his heart because Liam has his.
The chant of I love you is now constant in his head whenever they are together, whenever he even thinks about him. It feels too soon, but undeniable really. Because everything Liam does makes Zayn's chest feel like it is going to break out of it, even little things like like the way his brows furrow when he concentrates or the way he fidgets impatiently when he has given up on working but Zayn hasn't. The way his lips look as he speaks and how expressive he is. How he laughs at himself like he is funny but he really is just a dork and Zayn is in love with it.
Zayn grins foolishly as he opens it, settling back into the pillows as he reads it, chest pounding at the thought of Liam knowing he was going to crawl into his bed that night.
sleep well i miss u x
+*
The sun breaks through the curtains, skating a glow across Zayn's cheeks. He looks soft, silver hair fluffy without product and sticking out around his head, lips parted and face relaxed as he rests back against the pillows. His fingers lay against his chest, which Liam knows is because sometimes he scratches at his chest when he sleeps, and it is weird that he finds it adorable.
The note he left before he headed out for his parents' house is lower on the mattress, a few centimeters away from the fingers of Zayn's other hand like he had fallen asleep holding it. The comforter has wrapped around his hips, his toes peeking at the bottom.
Liam is in love with him, he knows it. He falls easily - he is aware, but there is something undeniable about the feeling in his chest. He doesn't know how to say it outloud, if he should or if he should keep it to himself. It isn't important, having Zayn know or not, because he knows he can show it in his touch.
He isn't sure when he realized it, or if he always knew - something about love at first sight, he had told his mum the night before. But years ago, before they even met. When he had seen a younger Zayn's face in his little video icon, he hadn't hesitated on clicking it. Like the world telling him, you will fall in love with this lad one day -
Liam pads over to the edge of the bed quietly before sitting down beside Zayn. He smoothes a palm over his cheek, feeling how his skin is cool rather than warm, probably due to the blanket hanging off of him and the way his window is cracked. The bridge of Zayn's nose wrinkles as he tries to warm his skin with his own.
"In love with you," Liam mumbles quietly, watching the wrinkle between Zayn's eyebrows deepen. He is hard to wake up sometimes, and Liam is in love with that too.
The way he grumbles and pouts but will let Liam help him untangle from the sheets, how he will put up a fight and drag Liam into the sheets with him, showing a strength that Liam is overwhelmed exists in those thinner arms of his.
How sleepy he gets after a shag late at night, crawling against Liam's chest or tucking Liam into his. The way he pouts when Liam pads towards the garbage to chuck away the condom, or to get a cloth to clean them off. The way he giggles tiredly when Liam peppers his cheeks and left over bruises.
He loves listening to him speak, the way his words get choked when he laughs through telling a story about his dad, or the way his face flushes and gets frustrated looking when he complains about something with work or school. The way his words are always coated with fondness when he speaks about his sisters and the drop of his tone, the thick of his accent when he is aroused.
Liam is in love with the way Zayn washes his body before shampooing his hair, the way he had flushed in embarrassment when Liam had teased him about it in the shower. He is in love with the look of concentration on his face every time he takes a picture, and the way he constantly turns the camera onto him.
"Morning," Liam murmurs, placing a kiss on the tip of Zayn's nose even though he is pretty sure he is still asleep. He wonders if Zayn is in love with him too, if he is in love with at least anything about him. Zayn touches him like he is, touches him in a way no one ever has. Those idle touches just to touch that Liam is also in love with.
"Zayn," Liam hums, scratching his fingers through the hair that is starting to thicken at his jaw. He is excited to see it, a coarser, fuller beard on his sharp jaw, to feel it on the inside of his thighs before Zayn soothes the burn with his tongue.
"Go away," Zayn mumbles. He swallows thickly, face scrunching together. Liam chuckles softly, placing a brush of a kiss on his pursed lips.
Zayn keeps his eyes closed but his lips part, a ghost of a grin tugging the corners up and Liam presses his lips against his a bit harder, slotting them together. It is always overwhelming how perfect they fit together, their lips, their chests - their fingers.
A bit ridiculous of a thought but Liam is in love with it.
Zayn's tongue slips across his lower lip as he kisses him languidly. His tongue is soft against his own, lazily licking into his mouth in a way that sends a warmth down Liam's spine.
Liam hums contentedly when Zayn curls a hand around the back of his neck, fingers soothing against his skin. He wants to say the words, to tell Zayn he is in love with him but he only kisses him harder, deepening the kiss and hoping Zayn can feel it.
+*
Zayn feels ridiculous.
He lies on the bed, nearly naked except for his briefs, the vibrator in his hand making his palm feel numb as he has yet to turn it off. His prick lays limp on his belly, arousal nowhere in sight.
David Banner's Play plays in the background, and that song usually works him up but right now it just makes his stomach twist. He has been trying to get hard for like an hour now, since he hasn't done a show in awhile and he has the apartment to himself because he is supposed to be doing his homework, which he has procrastinated, but he had wanted to try to do a show. Make a little extra money that isn't in his savings so he can buy Liam something.
He tried thinking about Liam's hands on his hips or his tongue tracing his skin, but all this thoughts of Liam in bed with him warped to Liam finding out about his shows, his face going from a flushed red from arousal to an angry red, brows not pushing together in concentration but betrayal -
He clicks off the vibrator before dragging himself from the sheets. There feels like there is something heavy pressing down against his shoulders as he shuffles to his dresser to find the plaid shirt. Guilt maybe, for keeping it from Liam. Worry also, that Liam will be angry with him that he is bare and intimate with a hundred or so viewers that aren't him. Frustration that he can't get hard, even to the thought of Liam -
Zayn shuffles out of his room, catching his textbook from his desk and his glasses that sit on top of it before he does so before he shuffles into Liam's. He likes it more in here, he thinks, unless Liam is in his own. He thinks he would like anywhere as long Liam is right next to him.
He tries to read and drown out his thoughts, but it doesn't work too well. Not with the way his phone vibrates constantly on his nightstand with group text messages from his roommates. They are all together, and he doesn't understand why they feel the need to text each other.
NH; z come get ur boy he keeps talkn bout u
HS: its cute
LP: am not
NH: hearin bout zayns massive cock is not cute H
Zayn chuckles, reading the messages as they pop up. He wonders if Liam is flushing in embarrassment, or if he doesn't care because he has been drinking. Zayn doesn't care, thinks it's cute -
Everything he does is cute and Zayn is kind of head over heels for him. He still can't believe Liam is his boyfriend, even if it has been a few weeks already.
ZM; bring my boyfriend home so i can give it 2 him
LP: omw right now immediately
LT: EW
Zayn barks out a laugh, his cheeks hurting as he smiles at the screen. They won't be home for another two hours at least, and he types out a message about being careful and not drinking too much before finally turning off the vibration.
He ends up doodling in his textbook more so than reading the words on the page, distractedly tracing out LP and giggling at himself when he writes + ZM underneath it. He erases it before turning the page, feeling ridiculous again but this time in a good way.
His eyes start to heavy when his roommate's voices loud and floating through the apartment. Niall's laughters and Harry choking out a joke that Louis groans at. He doesn't hear Liam at first, and he considers going out there to make sure he is okay before he finally does.
"Gotta see my Zayn."
Zayn slides down the pillows some, biting at his bottom lip. My Zayn -
Liam shuffles into the room, eyes half closed and stumbling out of his boots before he lands on the bed. "My Zayn," Liam repeats, sighing as he shoots the boot across the room.
Zayn giggles fondly as Liam slumps down beside him, immediately turning to him to finger at his shirt before slipping his palm, cold from the November air, underneath the brim.
"In love with your laugh, Zaynie," Liam murmurs, eyes practically closed, smiling drunkenly. "Favorite sound - in the world."
Zayn grins foolishly, tucking closer to Liam. In love, he tries not to think about it too much, or how he feels the same way about Liam's. "Yeah? What else do you like 'bout me?"
"My shirt," Liam slurs, tugging on the lapel of the plaid shirt Zayn wears and Zayn isn't sure he heard him. "Like you in my clothes, makes you look like mine. My Zayn."
Warmth creeps up Zayn's cheeks, coming from his chest as he chuckles softly. "I am yours, babe. Remember? Boyfriends. My Liam."
Liam doesn't seem to hear him again as he fiddles with the material and nudges closer to Zayn. "Y'look good in red, love you in red."
Zayn's heart thumps heavily in his chest, knowing Liam is just bantering but love you stands out like a sore thumb. It rings loud in his head, like an alarm going off during a fire, yelling at him to get out before he gets hurt. Just banter, he tells himself -
Liam lets go of his shirt to rub his knuckles against his cheek, eyes heavy from the alcohol and a drunk smile on his face. "Your red cheeks are my favorite. Like 'em more than those panties."
Zayn stiffens, face crumpling as he stares at Liam to explain. But Liam only closes his eyes, a smile on his face as he rests beside him on the pillows.
"Panties, Liam?"
Liam nods tiredly, face scrunching and Zayn panics because he needs him to explain but he knows Liam is seconds from falling asleep. The alarm going off in his head now is more uncomfortable, ringing in his ears and hurting his brain as he tries to make sense of it.
"Want you to wear them for me sometime," Liam mutters so quietly it is hard for Zayn to hear. "Please."
"How do you know about them?" Zayn urges, gripping onto Liam's shirt that is still matted in sweat and tugging a little to jostle him awake but it does no good.
Liam stays quiet for a long time, brows pushing together and relaxing like they do when he is being dragged under from sleep. His hand relaxes on Zayn's chest, lips pouting out as he falls asleep.
Zayn rests back against the headboard, eyeing Liam as a pain rips through his chest, caused by the confusion and the thoughts in his head he refuses to believe.