smoke (niall horan/zayn malik) pg-13
Title: Smoke
Pairing: Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~6100
Summary: Zayn leans closer-close enough that Niall can feel the warmth from his body and smell the smoke the creeps out of the corner of Zayn’s lips around the cigarette as he uses one hand to light up Niall’s fag and the other hand to protect it from the barely-there wind.
A/N: Thanks to heyhoolou for the look over. You can also read this fic over at AO3 if you prefer that!
smoke.
Watching Zayn with a brand new pack of fags is like watching a scientific documentary. Everything happens in a specific order, and everything happens like clockwork.
Niall watches, enthralled, as Zayn twirls the pack in his right hand, three times, like it’s a ritual, before smacking the pack top-down into his left palm. Niall once asked why he does that, and Zayn had just smirked and said something about the tobacco settling down proper. Niall hadn’t understood, but Zayn hadn’t elaborated and Niall didn’t really care enough to question it further.
Next, Zayn removes the foil paper, expert hands pulling it away so fast that Niall barely sees what he does with it-pushed into his left pocket, always the left for some reason-before it’s completely gone from sight. Slender fingers pull a cigarette out and lift it to his lips, which curl around the filtered end of it.
Like always, Zayn uses his hands to pat down his pockets, like he can’t remember where he put the lighter, but Niall knows it’s in the right pocket of Zayn’s leather jacket, because that’s where Zayn always keeps it. Still, he can’t help but smile as he watches Zayn; can’t help but wonder if this is part of Zayn’s ritual when smoking or if Zayn genuinely forgets where he puts his lighter.
Niall’s eyes follow Zayn’s hands in the search for the missing lighter and grins when Zayn finally pulls it out from his right pocket, just like Niall had expected him to, and lights up the cigarette quickly, his left palm curling protectively around it to shield it from the slight breeze.
”You wanna?” asks Zayn, holding out the pack of fags for Niall to take one if he so desires. He doesn’t, not really, but he still finds himself pulling one out with the tip of his fingers, rolling it between his thumb and index finger for a second before lifting it to his lips. Zayn leans closer-close enough that Niall can feel the warmth from his body and smell the smoke the creeps out of the corner of Zayn’s lips around the cigarette as he uses one hand to light up Niall’s fag and the other hand to protect it from the barely-there wind.
Niall puffs on the cigarette slowly, trying not to give into the slight itch at the back of his throat that makes him want to cough. He looks at Zayn who smirks knowingly, like he knows that Niall’s fighting the urge to cough. Finally, the itch gets the better of him and he lets out a small wheeze. Zayn chuckles, and Niall smiles and punches him lightly on the shoulder.
“’t’s gonna be a great show, don’t you reckon, mate?” asks Niall, and Zayn just nods. It’s the last show before they go back to the studio; last show before they have to focus on the new album.
“Yeah, gonna be amazin’,” continues Niall when Zayn doesn’t say anything. Zayn nods again, head tilting slightly to the side in that way that makes Niall feel weird in his stomach. Zayn looks like he wants to say something, but before he gets a chance to open his mouth they’re interrupted by Louis who’s poking his head out the window above them.
“Corrupting our young Nialler?”
Niall looks up, squinting against the sun that reflects off from the window to see Louis looking all smug and secretive. Niall looks down again, eyes immediately going to Zayn who shifts his weight from one foot to the other, making a big spectacle about blowing out rings of smoke, looking all suave. Niall kind of envies Zayn for being able to pull it off without looking like a douchebag.
“What will all the fans say when Nialler starts smoking, too, because you got him hooked?” continues Louis.
“Ara be whist,” mutters Niall in Irish, amused at the look he receives from Zayn.
“Be careful Zayn,” says Louis cheerfully, completely ignoring Niall, “our young Nialler is very corruptible.”
“Sod off,” replies Zayn, without looking up. The reply comes so quickly that Niall doesn’t even get a chance to even open his mouth to let out that ever so eloquent ‘oi’ that had been on the tip of his tongue. Instead, Zayn just rolls his eyes before offering Niall a sly smile that makes something coil hot in the pit of Niall’s stomach and his cheeks flush pink.
“Language,” says Louis, laughing as he leans slightly out the window. Niall can see that he’s reaching for something below the window frame, and seconds later white paper falls on him and Zayn as Louis throws a fistful of tiny balls of rolled paper at them, grinning widely as he says in a singsong voice, “But the thing that's a positive must, is a little bit of pixie dust.”
Niall can’t help but laugh at the randomness. This is such a typical Louis thing to do, and Niall loves that he never knows what to expect.
“You watched Peter Pan with Liam again?” Zayn doesn’t look as impressed as Niall, but Niall can still see a tiny hint of a smile at the corner of Zayn’s lips if he looks closely.
“It’s a bloody fantastic movie,” says Louis, shrugging. Niall thinks that Louis only likes it because he every now and then gets compared to Peter Pan, which Louis apparently thinks is awesome. Still, he has to admit, it beats being compared to a leprechaun.
“Rehearsals starts in five, lads,” says Liam, appearing next to Louis in the window. Louis looks absolutely thrilled to see Liam if the way he throws his arm around Liam’s shoulder and starts serenading him with the Peter Pan song is any indication. Liam just looks pleased, and slightly flushed. Niall can still hear Louis singing even as they move away from the window and disappear back into the venue, leaving Zayn and Niall alone again in the back alley.
Zayn smirks and throws his cigarette away, using the heel of his shoe to fully extinguish the embers. Niall’s flicks his own, a heavy layer of ash falling off and down to the ground slowly, before the gentle breeze picks it up and carries it away.
“Go on then, give it here,” says Zayn and Niall hands it over without question. There’s maybe two or three drags left of it, and Niall watches as Zayn lifts it up to his lips that curls around the end like Niall’s own lips had done mere seconds ago.
“Don’t want to waste it, perfectly good fag and all,” explains Zayn even though Niall hadn’t asked. Niall just nods, and offers Zayn a smile, which is returned.
A minute or two later, Zayn throws down Niall’s cigarette like he had his own and puts it out.
“Inside, yeah?” asks Zayn, and Niall agrees, even if he’d rather stay outside with Zayn, talking and watching him smoke.
*
“Fuck, that was bloody amazing.”
Niall grins widely and throws himself down on the couch in the changing room, his legs sprawling over the arm of the red leather couch, taking up entirely too much space. Zayn follows him, nudging at Niall’s head until Niall lifts it just enough for Zayn’s thigh to slip underneath it, which Niall thinks is excellent as it makes a perfect pillow for his head as he listens to the others talk about the concert tonight.
“Best concert ever, am I right?” asks Harry, sounding immensely pleased with himself. Niall assumes it’s because when Harry had turned their lyrics into naughty words at Louis’ request the fans had, if possible, screamed louder and cheered him on.
“So weird that it’s done now, though. I mean, I’m excited for the new album, but it’s just weird, innit?” asks Liam, shrugging out of his shirt and pulling on his own t-shirt.
“True, but it’s awesome, too. Now we get even more songs for Hazza to change the lyrics to!” Louis sounds way too excited, Niall thinks, and he sees a flicker of worry in Liam’s eyes.
Niall closes his eyes for a second, but quickly opens them again when he feels a hand in his hair. Zayn’s petting him; running his fingers absentmindedly through Niall’s slightly wet locks. He looks up under his eyelashes, chancing a glance at Zayn, who looks far away in thought. Blunt nails graze his scalp, sending shivers down Niall’s spine. Niall wants to point out that he was just sweating a ton, but then again, they all do under the heavy scene lighting, which Zayn should know, so Niall decides to just enjoy it while it lasts.
“Louis,” says Liam, sounding a bit exasperated, yet Niall thinks there’s an odd undertone of fondness in Liam’s voice. Niall turns his head in Zayn’s lap to look at Louis who is now sitting on the makeup table, even though the chair is perfectly free for him to use.
Liam sighs loudly, and Niall offers him a small smile when he manages to catch Liam’s gaze. Liam looks maybe shocked, for a second there, but then he smiles back and Niall’s smile widens.
“Fuck, I’m practically sweating buckets over here,” mutters Harry, who’s leaning up against the wall, looking like he’s trying to cool down by rubbing his back up against the orange paint. Liam is the only one who’s started changing into his own clothes, which they all should be doing seeing as they have to be back on the bus in thirty minutes according to their schedule.
“Did you see-”
“The girl flashing?”
“Yes, she looked-”
“I couldn’t see in this light. We need proper lighting on the audience next time,” concludes Louis, smirking. Liam throws the first thing that he can grab (Harry’s rolled up muffler) at Louis who manages to duck in time.
“No need getting so aggressive, Lee-yum,” snickers Harry, darting after the thrown muffler before Louis can get his hands on it. He lifts it over his head triumphantly, though his victory is short as Louis tickles his side, making Harry try to curl himself together to protect his side from Louis’ teasing fingers.
“Fuck, I need a fag,” mutters Zayn, sounding completely wiped out. Niall hums understandingly, though he has no desire for a cigarette himself. He could go for a pint though.
“You shouldn’t smoke so much,” says Liam, his voice slightly muffled from leaning over to tie his trainers. Still, they all heard him, which he seems to realize when the chatter slowly dies down. Niall looks at Liam, sees how embarrassed he is to have been heard, and then tilts his head back to see Zayn’s reaction.
“What?” asks Zayn, sounding like he can’t believe what he’s just heard.
“Um. I just. It’s no good for you? Smoking kills?” Liam sounds so uncertain, and Niall feels kind of bad for him.
“You sound like Management,” says Zayn, and Niall can hear from his tone that it’s not a pleasant comparison. And it’s true, Management has wanted Zayn to quit smoking for ages now, but Zayn never lasts more than a day before he’ll sneak out and buy a new pack from the nearest corner shop, usually with Niall as his accomplice. Niall is ridiculously easily persuaded to help Zayn get out of the hotel room, or if they’re home, to trot with Zayn to the nearest Tesco, where they load up on fags and booze quickly and then hurry back before the paps see them.
“I’m sorry. I just worry about you…” Liam sounds like he’s genuinely sorry, and Zayn seems to relax.
“Who wants pints tonight? My treat,” Niall offers, sitting up, which makes Zayn’s fingers slide out of his hair. Zayn looks down at his hand, like he’s just realizing now what he had been doing, and Niall leans against him slightly, bumping their shoulders together in a silent thank you. Zayn smiles back, a bit shyly, biting into his lower lip. Niall glances away, frowning as he sees Louis grinning widely at him for a brief second before turning his attention back to Harry who has now followed Liam’s example and started changing as well - or well, at least Harry has started undressing, but he doesn’t look like he’s ready to put his own clothes on yet.
Niall counts to three, and then the room is filled with Harry’s loud shriek as Louis pounces. Zayn lets out an amused snort besides him, and Niall laughs and goes to help Louis tickle Harry.
*
Niall loves lounging about in his apartment, wearing nothing but sweats and a t-shirt. It’s sort of satisfying being able to listen to the telly or the radio as loud as he can while he cooks or does the laundry. He never thought he’d ever say it, but he actually enjoys doing the laundry. Mostly because it’s kind of soothing, somehow, the whole routine of it, but also because this way he knows that no one else will have the chance to snoop through his dirty pants. And all his socks will still be there when he’s done, unlike with the laundry-service at some of the hotels they’ve been staying at.
Sometimes, though, he even likes to just lie on the couch and read whatever magazine he has within reach. Today’s magazine is a year old copy of Hello!, which he had found earlier when cleaning his cupboards. He’s read it three times now, yet he still finds himself flipping through it, reading everything over and over again. There’s nothing particular interesting in it, but it’s a nice break from checking his twitter feed or phone for messages constantly, which he has to admit that he tends to do a lot when he’s home - even the other lads tease him for being on twitter so much, but Niall likes to connect with the fans; likes to make them feel included because without them, they wouldn’t be proper famous like they are now.
Which brings him to the downside of not being on tour or in the studio recording or anything else, because being back home means that he doesn’t get to hang out with the other lads as much. He’s been home for five days, and though he knows he should be enjoying the break, he still finds himself missing them all. He’s talked to Liam on the phone twice, and Harry came over yesterday, and Louis stopped by the day before, but still. He hasn’t heard from Zayn at all, which is what’s probably bothering him the most, even though he knows from past experience that if he wants to talk to Zayn he’ll most likely have to ring him up himself or go to Zayn’s apartment. Fuck it, he’s even heard from Josh and the rest of the band. But not Zayn.
Someone knocks on his door, and Niall practically jumps from the couch, eagerly hurrying to the door. His smile fades slightly when he sees that it’s not Zayn but Louis.
“Way to look happy to see me, mate,” snorts Louis, and barges in. “Come out with me, Nialler.”
“Out where?” he asks, and closes the door and follows Louis into the living room. Louis struts around, like he owns the place, and slumps down on the warm spot on the couch that Niall had just vacated, feet on the table. Niall walks over and pushes them off, just because he can, but also because he doesn’t want Louis’ dirty TOMS on his table.
“Party, of course,” says Louis, rolling his eyes.
“Whose party?”
Louis just shrugs and smirks, and Niall knows that this can only mean trouble. Still, he agrees and goes into the bedroom to change.
*
Even though Niall had gone out with Louis, it’s still Liam’s floor that he wakes up on. He recognizes the rug immediately, the familiar pattern mocking him with its bright colours. Liam is typically a pretty conservative type of guy with a lot of conservative things, but the carpet had been a housewarming present from Louis, which is why Liam’s using it in the guest bedroom instead of tossing it out the window like Niall might’ve if he had gotten it. Also, Niall is about eighty percent sure that Louis had bought it just to mess with Liam and not because he thought Liam would like it. Maybe eighty-five percent.
“Oh, you’re up,” says Liam, stopping in the doorway, pulling an ear bud out of his left ear. Niall can hear the faint sound of a familiar beat, but he can’t remember the song at all.
Liam steps into the room a bit, and Niall can see that he’s wearing his gym clothes and is all sweaty. Niall squints at him, trying to look up from underneath his quiff that has somehow gotten flattened to his forehead, without moving his head too much.
“Yeah,” he mutters, his mouth all parched and foul-tasting. “Never could fool you.” The added comment doesn’t come out as strong as he would have liked, because Liam has already moved on - probably to the bathroom to shower - so Niall lets his head fall back down to the rug. It’s soft, and feels good against his cheek.
The next time Niall opens his eyes, Liam’s crouching down beside him, freshly showered and holding a glass of water.
“Drink.”
Niall tries to sit up, and finally manages to do so with Liam’s hand holding him steady. The glass is pushed into his face, basically, so Niall cups it with both of his hands and drinks.
“Come out in the kitchen when you’re ready,” says Liam, taking the now empty glass from Niall’s pale, shaky hands. “Tea’s ready and waiting for you. Breakfast too.”
“Food?” Niall smiles hopefully. Some people can’t eat when they have a hangover, but Niall can eat whenever. Food makes him happy; he especially likes breakfast, and lunch… And dinner.
When Niall finally makes his way into Liam’s kitchen a good half-hour later - now no longer smelling like something died - he’s wearing a pair of Liam’s sweats that Niall thinks might actually be Harry’s originally. The t-shirt is his own though, and he thinks that he might’ve forgotten it that time when they all had had a sleepover at Liam’s a couple of months ago.
“Why am I here?” he asks around a forkful of eggs. The words probably come out a bit muffled, but Liam doesn’t seem too bothered or unable to understand Niall.
“Well, Louis thought you might prefer waking up here?”
Liam doesn’t sound too sure, and Niall mulls it over as he washes the eggs down with a sip of tea.
“Why?” he asks, confused. Liam just shrugs.
“Something about you declaring your love for my rug? And for Zayn? But Louis thought the rug was the safest choice?”
Niall drops the fork, wincing as it makes a weird sound as it first hits the plate, then the table before it falls to the floor.
“Um.”
“To be fair, Louis was wasted too, so I might’ve misunderstood?”
“I don’t love Zayn,” he says, and the moment the words have left his mouth he can feel the lie pulling at his chest. Liam doesn’t look too convinced either, but is polite enough to shrug as if he believes Niall.
Sometimes Niall just doesn’t know when to stop. His mom always told him that it’s wisest to quit while you are ahead, but Niall must have forgotten because it’s like his mouth can’t stop moving.
“I mean. I love you guys. All of you. Equally. I don’t love Zayn more than I love you. You’re all my mates and I love you?” He squints into the wall, trying to figure out what he’s just said and if any of it made any sense at all. To be quite fair, it’s still early and he’s still suffering from the hangover.
“Um. That’s good, mate.”
Liam turns away, and Niall watches as Liam starts putting on more water on the kettle.
“Want another cuppa?” asks Liam.
“Yeah. Cheers.”
“By the way, mate. Hazza asked if we wanted to come to his for dinner.”
“Sure.” Niall loves going over to Harry’s for dinner. Harry actually likes cooking, and though he’s not the best chef out there, he’s definitely the best out of the five of them.
“Zayn’s coming too,” adds Liam, giving Niall a look that he’s not quite sure how to read. Liam looks like he’s a bit sad, though he also somewhat resembles a puppy begging for attention. Niall does what he always does; he shrugs and reaches out to run his hand over Liam’s hair. The buzz haircut tickles Niall’s palm, making him smile, which then makes Liam smile.
A full minute in silence happens before Liam opens his mouth again, “You okay with that?”
Niall shrugs once more, and shoves another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“I just…” Liam looks around in the kitchen forlornly for a couple of silent seconds, before he continues, “I want you to be happy, Nialler. And if Zayn makes you happy, maybe you should give it a go? I mean… we won’t care. Promise. Or rather, I won’t care. And I know Louis won’t care either if our conversation when he dropped you off at my place at four am is anything to go by. And Hazza, he, well, he doesn’t care about gender and-”
“Mate.” Niall stands up. He scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably, and moves away from the kitchen counter. “Louis was wrong yeah? I probably got too much to drink. I don’t even remember what I said.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
And just as Niall thinks the conversation is over, Liam adds, quickly, “But if you do love Zayn more than the rest of us and you want to give it a go you’ll have my full support. You know that right?”
Niall sighs, and feels like something is loosening up in his chest; feels like he can finally relax properly. Huh, he had no idea he had even been tensing up.
“’Course,” he says.
“Good. Just wanted to make sure.”
Niall nods, and Liam nods, and that’s the end of that conversation. Finally. But then Liam opens his mouth again, looking like he’s about to continue, so Niall quickly gets up from the chair and mumbles something about needing to go to the loo. Liam presses his lips together, and Niall doesn’t look at him as he leaves the room.
*
Niall follows Zayn out on Harry’s terrace after dinner. Zayn’s already lighting up a cigarette before Niall gets a chance to shut the door behind him.
“Fuck, I really needed that.”
Niall nods, distractedly. All he had been able to think about during dinner was his and Liam’s conversation earlier. It had made him blush and stammer throughout the entire meal whenever Zayn had talked to him, or even looked at him. It certainly hadn’t helped that Liam had tried to give him small nudges and nods, as if saying ‘go for it’, and Louis’ meaningful smirks had been utterly annoying to say the least.
“Y’alright, mate?” asks Zayn, tilting his head slightly into Niall’s line of view. Niall smiles, automatically, and ignore the way his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies. He probably just ate too much pudding. Again.
“Yeah, sure. Just a bit knackered,” he lies, ignoring the way his heartbeat seems deafening in his ears and his cheeks all flushed under the scrutiny of Zayn’s gaze.
“Hanging out with Louis does that to you,” mumbles Zayn, and Niall’s not sure how to respond. If Zayn knows about his and Louis’ night out, then maybe he knows about Niall’s love-declaration for Zayn too? Niall wouldn’t put it past Louis for telling on him. Especially not if Louis has somehow gotten it in his head that it’s in Niall’s best interest for Zayn to know.
He eyes Zayn worriedly, but Zayn just keeps on smoking like nothing is wrong. Niall watches the smoke, mouth slightly parted as he sees how Zayn’s nostrils flare slightly just before the smoke slips out of the corner of his lips.
“You cold?” asks Zayn, and Niall realizes that he’s shivering a bit, which he totally hadn’t noticed because he was too busy staring like a daft person at Zayn.
“Um.”
“C’mere,” offers Zayn, leaving the cigarette to dangle between his lips as he holds his arms open for Niall to come closer. Niall may be daft sometimes, but he’s no idiot, so when Zayn offers to cuddle he’s definitely not going to say no.
Zayn huffs as Niall’s arms goes around his middle, and Niall pretends that this means nothing to him as he buries his nose in the crook of Zayn’s neck and his hands twists into the leather of the back of Zayn’s jacket.
Zayn leaves one arm around Niall, pulling him closer into the cuddle, hand splayed out on the back of Niall’s jumper, fingers petting him slowly, soothingly, as Zayn uses the other hand for smoking.
The worst part of it is that this is all normal-like this is normal for them all, they do this all the time, cuddling and hugging, and being in each other’s private sphere-and he knows that Zayn is just being a good mate offering a bit of a cuddle to keep warm. And now Niall feels a bit sick, because Zayn is just being a good mate and Niall, well, Niall isn’t. Not really, because this means more to him. Because he’s in love with Zayn… oh god he’s in love with Zayn.
“You guys coming back? Hazza wants to watch a film,” says Louis, sticking his head out the door, smiling mischievously as he sees the two of them embracing.
Niall tries to untangle himself from Zayn’s arms, but Zayn keeps him there, refusing to let go of Niall.
“Which film?” asks Zayn, turning his head when he takes the final drag of the fag, making sure Niall doesn’t get the smoke in his head.
“Err,” Louis seems confused for a second, “I think Liam persuaded him to see Toy Story.” Louis shrugs, like he’s saying you know how Liam is. Niall likes Toy Story, but he wouldn’t mind watching something else for a change, however, he doesn’t say anything because he’s not sure, to be honest, how to talk properly with Zayn standing so close.
“Just hafta finish this one, then we’ll be right in. Just start it, yeah?”
“Oh don’t worry, you just stand out here for as long as you like,” says Louis, the mischievous smile from before returning quickly. The door closes and Niall hears the turning of the lock. He sighs, but doesn’t move. Zayn presses the cigarette against the wall to kill the embers, before throwing the butt into the small ashtray that Harry’s put out on the terrace for Zayn.
“Louis,” they hear Liam say in that scolding tone of his that he uses when he’s slightly disappointed but not quite angry yet. Niall smiles, and he’s fairly sure that Zayn’s smiling too.
“Louis, you can’t just lock them out,” they hear Liam say, and a few seconds later the door opens and Liam sticks his head out. “Sorry guys-err, Louis, err. You know him. Um, I’ll just go back in? You can just come whenever you want? I mean, back inside. You can just come back inside when you’re ready to let go… of each other. Right.”
Liam closes the door and they hear Louis lets out a squeak, like Liam maybe hit him or something. It’s quiet after that. Zayn now has two arms around him, and Niall is definitely not going to say anything. Instead, he just turns his head a bit and looks up through his lashes, taking in Zayn’s face, which is stupidly attractive even from this angle.
“Shh,” whispers Zayn, eyes closing even as Niall continues to stare at him. “Let’s just stand here for a second, yeah?”
Niall doesn’t know how long they stand there, cuddling close, Zayn’s eyes are closed as if he’s sleeping and Niall watching him curiously, but the film is halfway through when Harry sticks his head out and tells them that it’s getting late and that they’re more than welcome to use his guest bedroom if that’s more comfortable, wink-wink.
“Nah, think I’ll head home,” is all Zayn says before detangling himself from Niall.
Niall watches as Zayn heads in. Harry shrugs, looking both confused and apologetic and Niall just shakes his head.
Zayn’s gone by the time he gets inside again, and Louis, Harry and Liam all look at him. Niall just smiles, because he’s not sure what else to do, and drops down next to Liam on the carpet and lets Liam cling to him as his mouth and eyebrows turn down whenever he sees something that makes him sad. Louis leans forward and squeezes Niall’s shoulder gently. Niall just pats Louis’ hand a bit before leaning into Liam’s side.
*
Being back in the studio is both weird and awesome at the same time. Niall loves being in the studio. He’s getting more solos, he gets to play the guitar a lot more, and he’s actually collaborated on a couple of the tracks. Like a proper musician! Harry smiles dopily at him whenever Niall says that, but he can’t help it. He feels proud, and like this is his dream come true.
It’s been two and a half week since the cuddle he shared with Zayn out on Harry’s terrace. Zayn hasn’t said anything about it, and though he knows that Louis is dying to ask he still hasn’t. Niall assumes that Liam is the one to thank for that.
“You should talk to him,” says Liam during their lunch break. Niall looks at Zayn who’s napping on the couch, beanie pulled down over his face and head turned slightly to the side in a way that Niall knows from experience will leave Zayn with a crick in the neck.
“No.”
Niall looks at back at Liam. He knows that Liam’s right. Niall should talk to Zayn about the cuddle. It was far too long to have been a cuddle between mates, he knows that, but he’s not entirely sure if he wants to find out exactly what that means.
“Liam, I can’t.”
“I think you should go for it, still. It was more than a friendly cuddle, Niall; you’ve got to be able to see that. You’re the only one Zayn hugs for more than a couple of seconds. I think, maybe, that you’re not the only one who’s confused, and it’s best to find out, yeah? So that you can move on if he doesn’t.”
Niall nods, because it’s sound advice. Still, it terrifies him to find out.
“I’ll think about it,” he says, and devours the rest of his sandwich in two bites, stuffing his mouth so full that even if Liam wanted to get him to talk more about his feelings for Zayn he wouldn’t be able to. Liam smiles knowingly.
Niall kills his guitar solo during rehearsals, and he throws himself into the songs with so much gusto that all the guys’ energy levels seem so spike up a bit. All in all, Niall thinks it’s a successful first day back in the studio, and he can’t help but share his feelings with twitter.
*
He’s emptying the dishwasher and singing along to Michael Bublé who’s playing on the radio when he hears the front door closing. He grabs the remote and turns down the music, walking towards the living room to see who it is, hand holding the remote like a weapon just in case.
“Zayn,” he says, startled as he sees Zayn standing in the middle of his living room with one hands buried deep in the pocket of his jeans while his other hand is holding a bundle of keys-one of which opens Niall’s flat. Niall has keys to Liam, Louis, Harry and Zayn’s places too. Because for some reason they had all thought it would be a good idea to have keys to each other’s places in case of emergencies, seeing as they had already gotten used sharing keys during touring where they had shared their hotel room keys.
“Sorry, I knocked like five times but you didn’t open so I used my key,” says Zayn, looking vaguely amused at the remote in Niall’s hand. Niall lowers his hand, shrugging sheepishly and doing his best to keep his blush under control.
“What?” he asks when Zayn merely arches an eyebrow. “You could have been an intruder, or a maybe a fan. Or like a crazy person. I had to be ready to defend myself.”
“Right,” says Zayn, a tiny hint of a smirk gracing the corner of his lips.
Niall leans against the doorframe, inhales deeply and exhales again. The air feels different, charged, like something’s about to happen, and he’s not sure if he likes that or not.
“So, I talked to Louis,” says Zayn, and Niall can feel the smile slipping from his face, ever so slowly.
“Oh.” He knows where this is going. He fiddles with the remote, considers turning the music back up so he won’t be able to hear what Zayn has to say.
“Yeah. He’s gotten it in his head that you proper fancy me?” Zayn looks at him like he’s finding the whole thing cracked. Niall sighs. Of course it was Louis who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “And I told him that was crazy because you don’t fancy me like that, yeah? I mean, I know you love me like a mate but not like that. Right?”
Niall looks away, not sure what to say, and he quickly realizes his mistake when he hear the sharp intake of breath coming from Zayn.
“Wait, he was right?”
Niall looks at Zayn, knows that now’s the time to confess, to get it off his chest and see what happens, but all he can do is shrug. He can’t deny it because he’s sort of daft when it comes to lying, but he’s definitely not ready to admit anything either.
Zayn’s eyes widen for a split second, but then he relaxes again. Zayn offers him a small smile, a small but genuine smile that makes Niall’s heart skip a beat.
“I thought he was messing with my head.”
“How so?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, confused.
“Because I think I quite fancy you too, and I thought he was pulling my leg when he said that.”
“You fancy me?” Niall asks, smiling.
Zayn doesn’t answer, just takes a step closer, and then another, until he’s standing right in front of Niall. He throws his keys on the table next to them, and grabs the remote from Niall’s hands. Niall wants to say something, but the look Zayn gives him makes him shut his mouth before he manages to utter a single word.
Warm hands touch his cheeks, keeping his face still as Zayn moves closer, so close that Niall’s back is pressed up against the doorframe. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s like he can’t speak with Zayn crowding so close to him. He feels a bit like the wind’s been knocked out of his lungs but he doesn’t really mind too terribly.
Zayn leans down, his hands moving down to the back of Niall’s neck, helping him tilt his head in the proper angle before Zayn presses his lips against Niall’s. The kiss is warm and dry, but it still feels like the best kiss ever.
“Yeah?” asks Zayn, moving his head just far enough back that Niall can see his eyes.
“Please. Yes, yeah,” he manages to say, voice no more than a whisper. He hesitantly reaches out and places his hands on Zayn’s hips, his fingers splayed against the fabric of Zayn’s dark jeans.
Zayn starts leaning closer again, and Niall wants to meet him halfway, but Zayn’s hold on the back of his head makes it impossible to move an inch. He whines, but Zayn just smiles before lightly brushing his lips against Niall’s. It’s so soft and sweet that it makes Niall’s head spin with want.
“Kiss me proper,” he murmurs against Zayn’s lips.
“Yeah,” says Zayn, voice low and husky, and Niall can feel himself harden in his trousers. Zayn finally does as Niall wants and deepens the kiss. It feels amazing. Niall has always suspected that Zayn’s a good kisser, but he never thought he’d actually get to experience it first-hand.
“So we’re doing this?” asks Niall when he gets the chance. His fingers slip under Zayn’s shirt, nails scratching the skin gentle, which makes Zayn gasp, and Niall smile in delight.
“Yes,” is all Zayn says before he kisses Niall again, this time soft and sweet again.
*
Watching Zayn smoke never ceases to amaze Niall, but what he likes the most is after when he gets to lick out the smoke from Zayn’s mouth.
fin.
Pairing: Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~6100
Summary: Zayn leans closer-close enough that Niall can feel the warmth from his body and smell the smoke the creeps out of the corner of Zayn’s lips around the cigarette as he uses one hand to light up Niall’s fag and the other hand to protect it from the barely-there wind.
A/N: Thanks to heyhoolou for the look over. You can also read this fic over at AO3 if you prefer that!
smoke.
Watching Zayn with a brand new pack of fags is like watching a scientific documentary. Everything happens in a specific order, and everything happens like clockwork.
Niall watches, enthralled, as Zayn twirls the pack in his right hand, three times, like it’s a ritual, before smacking the pack top-down into his left palm. Niall once asked why he does that, and Zayn had just smirked and said something about the tobacco settling down proper. Niall hadn’t understood, but Zayn hadn’t elaborated and Niall didn’t really care enough to question it further.
Next, Zayn removes the foil paper, expert hands pulling it away so fast that Niall barely sees what he does with it-pushed into his left pocket, always the left for some reason-before it’s completely gone from sight. Slender fingers pull a cigarette out and lift it to his lips, which curl around the filtered end of it.
Like always, Zayn uses his hands to pat down his pockets, like he can’t remember where he put the lighter, but Niall knows it’s in the right pocket of Zayn’s leather jacket, because that’s where Zayn always keeps it. Still, he can’t help but smile as he watches Zayn; can’t help but wonder if this is part of Zayn’s ritual when smoking or if Zayn genuinely forgets where he puts his lighter.
Niall’s eyes follow Zayn’s hands in the search for the missing lighter and grins when Zayn finally pulls it out from his right pocket, just like Niall had expected him to, and lights up the cigarette quickly, his left palm curling protectively around it to shield it from the slight breeze.
”You wanna?” asks Zayn, holding out the pack of fags for Niall to take one if he so desires. He doesn’t, not really, but he still finds himself pulling one out with the tip of his fingers, rolling it between his thumb and index finger for a second before lifting it to his lips. Zayn leans closer-close enough that Niall can feel the warmth from his body and smell the smoke the creeps out of the corner of Zayn’s lips around the cigarette as he uses one hand to light up Niall’s fag and the other hand to protect it from the barely-there wind.
Niall puffs on the cigarette slowly, trying not to give into the slight itch at the back of his throat that makes him want to cough. He looks at Zayn who smirks knowingly, like he knows that Niall’s fighting the urge to cough. Finally, the itch gets the better of him and he lets out a small wheeze. Zayn chuckles, and Niall smiles and punches him lightly on the shoulder.
“’t’s gonna be a great show, don’t you reckon, mate?” asks Niall, and Zayn just nods. It’s the last show before they go back to the studio; last show before they have to focus on the new album.
“Yeah, gonna be amazin’,” continues Niall when Zayn doesn’t say anything. Zayn nods again, head tilting slightly to the side in that way that makes Niall feel weird in his stomach. Zayn looks like he wants to say something, but before he gets a chance to open his mouth they’re interrupted by Louis who’s poking his head out the window above them.
“Corrupting our young Nialler?”
Niall looks up, squinting against the sun that reflects off from the window to see Louis looking all smug and secretive. Niall looks down again, eyes immediately going to Zayn who shifts his weight from one foot to the other, making a big spectacle about blowing out rings of smoke, looking all suave. Niall kind of envies Zayn for being able to pull it off without looking like a douchebag.
“What will all the fans say when Nialler starts smoking, too, because you got him hooked?” continues Louis.
“Ara be whist,” mutters Niall in Irish, amused at the look he receives from Zayn.
“Be careful Zayn,” says Louis cheerfully, completely ignoring Niall, “our young Nialler is very corruptible.”
“Sod off,” replies Zayn, without looking up. The reply comes so quickly that Niall doesn’t even get a chance to even open his mouth to let out that ever so eloquent ‘oi’ that had been on the tip of his tongue. Instead, Zayn just rolls his eyes before offering Niall a sly smile that makes something coil hot in the pit of Niall’s stomach and his cheeks flush pink.
“Language,” says Louis, laughing as he leans slightly out the window. Niall can see that he’s reaching for something below the window frame, and seconds later white paper falls on him and Zayn as Louis throws a fistful of tiny balls of rolled paper at them, grinning widely as he says in a singsong voice, “But the thing that's a positive must, is a little bit of pixie dust.”
Niall can’t help but laugh at the randomness. This is such a typical Louis thing to do, and Niall loves that he never knows what to expect.
“You watched Peter Pan with Liam again?” Zayn doesn’t look as impressed as Niall, but Niall can still see a tiny hint of a smile at the corner of Zayn’s lips if he looks closely.
“It’s a bloody fantastic movie,” says Louis, shrugging. Niall thinks that Louis only likes it because he every now and then gets compared to Peter Pan, which Louis apparently thinks is awesome. Still, he has to admit, it beats being compared to a leprechaun.
“Rehearsals starts in five, lads,” says Liam, appearing next to Louis in the window. Louis looks absolutely thrilled to see Liam if the way he throws his arm around Liam’s shoulder and starts serenading him with the Peter Pan song is any indication. Liam just looks pleased, and slightly flushed. Niall can still hear Louis singing even as they move away from the window and disappear back into the venue, leaving Zayn and Niall alone again in the back alley.
Zayn smirks and throws his cigarette away, using the heel of his shoe to fully extinguish the embers. Niall’s flicks his own, a heavy layer of ash falling off and down to the ground slowly, before the gentle breeze picks it up and carries it away.
“Go on then, give it here,” says Zayn and Niall hands it over without question. There’s maybe two or three drags left of it, and Niall watches as Zayn lifts it up to his lips that curls around the end like Niall’s own lips had done mere seconds ago.
“Don’t want to waste it, perfectly good fag and all,” explains Zayn even though Niall hadn’t asked. Niall just nods, and offers Zayn a smile, which is returned.
A minute or two later, Zayn throws down Niall’s cigarette like he had his own and puts it out.
“Inside, yeah?” asks Zayn, and Niall agrees, even if he’d rather stay outside with Zayn, talking and watching him smoke.
*
“Fuck, that was bloody amazing.”
Niall grins widely and throws himself down on the couch in the changing room, his legs sprawling over the arm of the red leather couch, taking up entirely too much space. Zayn follows him, nudging at Niall’s head until Niall lifts it just enough for Zayn’s thigh to slip underneath it, which Niall thinks is excellent as it makes a perfect pillow for his head as he listens to the others talk about the concert tonight.
“Best concert ever, am I right?” asks Harry, sounding immensely pleased with himself. Niall assumes it’s because when Harry had turned their lyrics into naughty words at Louis’ request the fans had, if possible, screamed louder and cheered him on.
“So weird that it’s done now, though. I mean, I’m excited for the new album, but it’s just weird, innit?” asks Liam, shrugging out of his shirt and pulling on his own t-shirt.
“True, but it’s awesome, too. Now we get even more songs for Hazza to change the lyrics to!” Louis sounds way too excited, Niall thinks, and he sees a flicker of worry in Liam’s eyes.
Niall closes his eyes for a second, but quickly opens them again when he feels a hand in his hair. Zayn’s petting him; running his fingers absentmindedly through Niall’s slightly wet locks. He looks up under his eyelashes, chancing a glance at Zayn, who looks far away in thought. Blunt nails graze his scalp, sending shivers down Niall’s spine. Niall wants to point out that he was just sweating a ton, but then again, they all do under the heavy scene lighting, which Zayn should know, so Niall decides to just enjoy it while it lasts.
“Louis,” says Liam, sounding a bit exasperated, yet Niall thinks there’s an odd undertone of fondness in Liam’s voice. Niall turns his head in Zayn’s lap to look at Louis who is now sitting on the makeup table, even though the chair is perfectly free for him to use.
Liam sighs loudly, and Niall offers him a small smile when he manages to catch Liam’s gaze. Liam looks maybe shocked, for a second there, but then he smiles back and Niall’s smile widens.
“Fuck, I’m practically sweating buckets over here,” mutters Harry, who’s leaning up against the wall, looking like he’s trying to cool down by rubbing his back up against the orange paint. Liam is the only one who’s started changing into his own clothes, which they all should be doing seeing as they have to be back on the bus in thirty minutes according to their schedule.
“Did you see-”
“The girl flashing?”
“Yes, she looked-”
“I couldn’t see in this light. We need proper lighting on the audience next time,” concludes Louis, smirking. Liam throws the first thing that he can grab (Harry’s rolled up muffler) at Louis who manages to duck in time.
“No need getting so aggressive, Lee-yum,” snickers Harry, darting after the thrown muffler before Louis can get his hands on it. He lifts it over his head triumphantly, though his victory is short as Louis tickles his side, making Harry try to curl himself together to protect his side from Louis’ teasing fingers.
“Fuck, I need a fag,” mutters Zayn, sounding completely wiped out. Niall hums understandingly, though he has no desire for a cigarette himself. He could go for a pint though.
“You shouldn’t smoke so much,” says Liam, his voice slightly muffled from leaning over to tie his trainers. Still, they all heard him, which he seems to realize when the chatter slowly dies down. Niall looks at Liam, sees how embarrassed he is to have been heard, and then tilts his head back to see Zayn’s reaction.
“What?” asks Zayn, sounding like he can’t believe what he’s just heard.
“Um. I just. It’s no good for you? Smoking kills?” Liam sounds so uncertain, and Niall feels kind of bad for him.
“You sound like Management,” says Zayn, and Niall can hear from his tone that it’s not a pleasant comparison. And it’s true, Management has wanted Zayn to quit smoking for ages now, but Zayn never lasts more than a day before he’ll sneak out and buy a new pack from the nearest corner shop, usually with Niall as his accomplice. Niall is ridiculously easily persuaded to help Zayn get out of the hotel room, or if they’re home, to trot with Zayn to the nearest Tesco, where they load up on fags and booze quickly and then hurry back before the paps see them.
“I’m sorry. I just worry about you…” Liam sounds like he’s genuinely sorry, and Zayn seems to relax.
“Who wants pints tonight? My treat,” Niall offers, sitting up, which makes Zayn’s fingers slide out of his hair. Zayn looks down at his hand, like he’s just realizing now what he had been doing, and Niall leans against him slightly, bumping their shoulders together in a silent thank you. Zayn smiles back, a bit shyly, biting into his lower lip. Niall glances away, frowning as he sees Louis grinning widely at him for a brief second before turning his attention back to Harry who has now followed Liam’s example and started changing as well - or well, at least Harry has started undressing, but he doesn’t look like he’s ready to put his own clothes on yet.
Niall counts to three, and then the room is filled with Harry’s loud shriek as Louis pounces. Zayn lets out an amused snort besides him, and Niall laughs and goes to help Louis tickle Harry.
*
Niall loves lounging about in his apartment, wearing nothing but sweats and a t-shirt. It’s sort of satisfying being able to listen to the telly or the radio as loud as he can while he cooks or does the laundry. He never thought he’d ever say it, but he actually enjoys doing the laundry. Mostly because it’s kind of soothing, somehow, the whole routine of it, but also because this way he knows that no one else will have the chance to snoop through his dirty pants. And all his socks will still be there when he’s done, unlike with the laundry-service at some of the hotels they’ve been staying at.
Sometimes, though, he even likes to just lie on the couch and read whatever magazine he has within reach. Today’s magazine is a year old copy of Hello!, which he had found earlier when cleaning his cupboards. He’s read it three times now, yet he still finds himself flipping through it, reading everything over and over again. There’s nothing particular interesting in it, but it’s a nice break from checking his twitter feed or phone for messages constantly, which he has to admit that he tends to do a lot when he’s home - even the other lads tease him for being on twitter so much, but Niall likes to connect with the fans; likes to make them feel included because without them, they wouldn’t be proper famous like they are now.
Which brings him to the downside of not being on tour or in the studio recording or anything else, because being back home means that he doesn’t get to hang out with the other lads as much. He’s been home for five days, and though he knows he should be enjoying the break, he still finds himself missing them all. He’s talked to Liam on the phone twice, and Harry came over yesterday, and Louis stopped by the day before, but still. He hasn’t heard from Zayn at all, which is what’s probably bothering him the most, even though he knows from past experience that if he wants to talk to Zayn he’ll most likely have to ring him up himself or go to Zayn’s apartment. Fuck it, he’s even heard from Josh and the rest of the band. But not Zayn.
Someone knocks on his door, and Niall practically jumps from the couch, eagerly hurrying to the door. His smile fades slightly when he sees that it’s not Zayn but Louis.
“Way to look happy to see me, mate,” snorts Louis, and barges in. “Come out with me, Nialler.”
“Out where?” he asks, and closes the door and follows Louis into the living room. Louis struts around, like he owns the place, and slumps down on the warm spot on the couch that Niall had just vacated, feet on the table. Niall walks over and pushes them off, just because he can, but also because he doesn’t want Louis’ dirty TOMS on his table.
“Party, of course,” says Louis, rolling his eyes.
“Whose party?”
Louis just shrugs and smirks, and Niall knows that this can only mean trouble. Still, he agrees and goes into the bedroom to change.
*
Even though Niall had gone out with Louis, it’s still Liam’s floor that he wakes up on. He recognizes the rug immediately, the familiar pattern mocking him with its bright colours. Liam is typically a pretty conservative type of guy with a lot of conservative things, but the carpet had been a housewarming present from Louis, which is why Liam’s using it in the guest bedroom instead of tossing it out the window like Niall might’ve if he had gotten it. Also, Niall is about eighty percent sure that Louis had bought it just to mess with Liam and not because he thought Liam would like it. Maybe eighty-five percent.
“Oh, you’re up,” says Liam, stopping in the doorway, pulling an ear bud out of his left ear. Niall can hear the faint sound of a familiar beat, but he can’t remember the song at all.
Liam steps into the room a bit, and Niall can see that he’s wearing his gym clothes and is all sweaty. Niall squints at him, trying to look up from underneath his quiff that has somehow gotten flattened to his forehead, without moving his head too much.
“Yeah,” he mutters, his mouth all parched and foul-tasting. “Never could fool you.” The added comment doesn’t come out as strong as he would have liked, because Liam has already moved on - probably to the bathroom to shower - so Niall lets his head fall back down to the rug. It’s soft, and feels good against his cheek.
The next time Niall opens his eyes, Liam’s crouching down beside him, freshly showered and holding a glass of water.
“Drink.”
Niall tries to sit up, and finally manages to do so with Liam’s hand holding him steady. The glass is pushed into his face, basically, so Niall cups it with both of his hands and drinks.
“Come out in the kitchen when you’re ready,” says Liam, taking the now empty glass from Niall’s pale, shaky hands. “Tea’s ready and waiting for you. Breakfast too.”
“Food?” Niall smiles hopefully. Some people can’t eat when they have a hangover, but Niall can eat whenever. Food makes him happy; he especially likes breakfast, and lunch… And dinner.
When Niall finally makes his way into Liam’s kitchen a good half-hour later - now no longer smelling like something died - he’s wearing a pair of Liam’s sweats that Niall thinks might actually be Harry’s originally. The t-shirt is his own though, and he thinks that he might’ve forgotten it that time when they all had had a sleepover at Liam’s a couple of months ago.
“Why am I here?” he asks around a forkful of eggs. The words probably come out a bit muffled, but Liam doesn’t seem too bothered or unable to understand Niall.
“Well, Louis thought you might prefer waking up here?”
Liam doesn’t sound too sure, and Niall mulls it over as he washes the eggs down with a sip of tea.
“Why?” he asks, confused. Liam just shrugs.
“Something about you declaring your love for my rug? And for Zayn? But Louis thought the rug was the safest choice?”
Niall drops the fork, wincing as it makes a weird sound as it first hits the plate, then the table before it falls to the floor.
“Um.”
“To be fair, Louis was wasted too, so I might’ve misunderstood?”
“I don’t love Zayn,” he says, and the moment the words have left his mouth he can feel the lie pulling at his chest. Liam doesn’t look too convinced either, but is polite enough to shrug as if he believes Niall.
Sometimes Niall just doesn’t know when to stop. His mom always told him that it’s wisest to quit while you are ahead, but Niall must have forgotten because it’s like his mouth can’t stop moving.
“I mean. I love you guys. All of you. Equally. I don’t love Zayn more than I love you. You’re all my mates and I love you?” He squints into the wall, trying to figure out what he’s just said and if any of it made any sense at all. To be quite fair, it’s still early and he’s still suffering from the hangover.
“Um. That’s good, mate.”
Liam turns away, and Niall watches as Liam starts putting on more water on the kettle.
“Want another cuppa?” asks Liam.
“Yeah. Cheers.”
“By the way, mate. Hazza asked if we wanted to come to his for dinner.”
“Sure.” Niall loves going over to Harry’s for dinner. Harry actually likes cooking, and though he’s not the best chef out there, he’s definitely the best out of the five of them.
“Zayn’s coming too,” adds Liam, giving Niall a look that he’s not quite sure how to read. Liam looks like he’s a bit sad, though he also somewhat resembles a puppy begging for attention. Niall does what he always does; he shrugs and reaches out to run his hand over Liam’s hair. The buzz haircut tickles Niall’s palm, making him smile, which then makes Liam smile.
A full minute in silence happens before Liam opens his mouth again, “You okay with that?”
Niall shrugs once more, and shoves another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“I just…” Liam looks around in the kitchen forlornly for a couple of silent seconds, before he continues, “I want you to be happy, Nialler. And if Zayn makes you happy, maybe you should give it a go? I mean… we won’t care. Promise. Or rather, I won’t care. And I know Louis won’t care either if our conversation when he dropped you off at my place at four am is anything to go by. And Hazza, he, well, he doesn’t care about gender and-”
“Mate.” Niall stands up. He scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably, and moves away from the kitchen counter. “Louis was wrong yeah? I probably got too much to drink. I don’t even remember what I said.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
And just as Niall thinks the conversation is over, Liam adds, quickly, “But if you do love Zayn more than the rest of us and you want to give it a go you’ll have my full support. You know that right?”
Niall sighs, and feels like something is loosening up in his chest; feels like he can finally relax properly. Huh, he had no idea he had even been tensing up.
“’Course,” he says.
“Good. Just wanted to make sure.”
Niall nods, and Liam nods, and that’s the end of that conversation. Finally. But then Liam opens his mouth again, looking like he’s about to continue, so Niall quickly gets up from the chair and mumbles something about needing to go to the loo. Liam presses his lips together, and Niall doesn’t look at him as he leaves the room.
*
Niall follows Zayn out on Harry’s terrace after dinner. Zayn’s already lighting up a cigarette before Niall gets a chance to shut the door behind him.
“Fuck, I really needed that.”
Niall nods, distractedly. All he had been able to think about during dinner was his and Liam’s conversation earlier. It had made him blush and stammer throughout the entire meal whenever Zayn had talked to him, or even looked at him. It certainly hadn’t helped that Liam had tried to give him small nudges and nods, as if saying ‘go for it’, and Louis’ meaningful smirks had been utterly annoying to say the least.
“Y’alright, mate?” asks Zayn, tilting his head slightly into Niall’s line of view. Niall smiles, automatically, and ignore the way his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies. He probably just ate too much pudding. Again.
“Yeah, sure. Just a bit knackered,” he lies, ignoring the way his heartbeat seems deafening in his ears and his cheeks all flushed under the scrutiny of Zayn’s gaze.
“Hanging out with Louis does that to you,” mumbles Zayn, and Niall’s not sure how to respond. If Zayn knows about his and Louis’ night out, then maybe he knows about Niall’s love-declaration for Zayn too? Niall wouldn’t put it past Louis for telling on him. Especially not if Louis has somehow gotten it in his head that it’s in Niall’s best interest for Zayn to know.
He eyes Zayn worriedly, but Zayn just keeps on smoking like nothing is wrong. Niall watches the smoke, mouth slightly parted as he sees how Zayn’s nostrils flare slightly just before the smoke slips out of the corner of his lips.
“You cold?” asks Zayn, and Niall realizes that he’s shivering a bit, which he totally hadn’t noticed because he was too busy staring like a daft person at Zayn.
“Um.”
“C’mere,” offers Zayn, leaving the cigarette to dangle between his lips as he holds his arms open for Niall to come closer. Niall may be daft sometimes, but he’s no idiot, so when Zayn offers to cuddle he’s definitely not going to say no.
Zayn huffs as Niall’s arms goes around his middle, and Niall pretends that this means nothing to him as he buries his nose in the crook of Zayn’s neck and his hands twists into the leather of the back of Zayn’s jacket.
Zayn leaves one arm around Niall, pulling him closer into the cuddle, hand splayed out on the back of Niall’s jumper, fingers petting him slowly, soothingly, as Zayn uses the other hand for smoking.
The worst part of it is that this is all normal-like this is normal for them all, they do this all the time, cuddling and hugging, and being in each other’s private sphere-and he knows that Zayn is just being a good mate offering a bit of a cuddle to keep warm. And now Niall feels a bit sick, because Zayn is just being a good mate and Niall, well, Niall isn’t. Not really, because this means more to him. Because he’s in love with Zayn… oh god he’s in love with Zayn.
“You guys coming back? Hazza wants to watch a film,” says Louis, sticking his head out the door, smiling mischievously as he sees the two of them embracing.
Niall tries to untangle himself from Zayn’s arms, but Zayn keeps him there, refusing to let go of Niall.
“Which film?” asks Zayn, turning his head when he takes the final drag of the fag, making sure Niall doesn’t get the smoke in his head.
“Err,” Louis seems confused for a second, “I think Liam persuaded him to see Toy Story.” Louis shrugs, like he’s saying you know how Liam is. Niall likes Toy Story, but he wouldn’t mind watching something else for a change, however, he doesn’t say anything because he’s not sure, to be honest, how to talk properly with Zayn standing so close.
“Just hafta finish this one, then we’ll be right in. Just start it, yeah?”
“Oh don’t worry, you just stand out here for as long as you like,” says Louis, the mischievous smile from before returning quickly. The door closes and Niall hears the turning of the lock. He sighs, but doesn’t move. Zayn presses the cigarette against the wall to kill the embers, before throwing the butt into the small ashtray that Harry’s put out on the terrace for Zayn.
“Louis,” they hear Liam say in that scolding tone of his that he uses when he’s slightly disappointed but not quite angry yet. Niall smiles, and he’s fairly sure that Zayn’s smiling too.
“Louis, you can’t just lock them out,” they hear Liam say, and a few seconds later the door opens and Liam sticks his head out. “Sorry guys-err, Louis, err. You know him. Um, I’ll just go back in? You can just come whenever you want? I mean, back inside. You can just come back inside when you’re ready to let go… of each other. Right.”
Liam closes the door and they hear Louis lets out a squeak, like Liam maybe hit him or something. It’s quiet after that. Zayn now has two arms around him, and Niall is definitely not going to say anything. Instead, he just turns his head a bit and looks up through his lashes, taking in Zayn’s face, which is stupidly attractive even from this angle.
“Shh,” whispers Zayn, eyes closing even as Niall continues to stare at him. “Let’s just stand here for a second, yeah?”
Niall doesn’t know how long they stand there, cuddling close, Zayn’s eyes are closed as if he’s sleeping and Niall watching him curiously, but the film is halfway through when Harry sticks his head out and tells them that it’s getting late and that they’re more than welcome to use his guest bedroom if that’s more comfortable, wink-wink.
“Nah, think I’ll head home,” is all Zayn says before detangling himself from Niall.
Niall watches as Zayn heads in. Harry shrugs, looking both confused and apologetic and Niall just shakes his head.
Zayn’s gone by the time he gets inside again, and Louis, Harry and Liam all look at him. Niall just smiles, because he’s not sure what else to do, and drops down next to Liam on the carpet and lets Liam cling to him as his mouth and eyebrows turn down whenever he sees something that makes him sad. Louis leans forward and squeezes Niall’s shoulder gently. Niall just pats Louis’ hand a bit before leaning into Liam’s side.
*
Being back in the studio is both weird and awesome at the same time. Niall loves being in the studio. He’s getting more solos, he gets to play the guitar a lot more, and he’s actually collaborated on a couple of the tracks. Like a proper musician! Harry smiles dopily at him whenever Niall says that, but he can’t help it. He feels proud, and like this is his dream come true.
It’s been two and a half week since the cuddle he shared with Zayn out on Harry’s terrace. Zayn hasn’t said anything about it, and though he knows that Louis is dying to ask he still hasn’t. Niall assumes that Liam is the one to thank for that.
“You should talk to him,” says Liam during their lunch break. Niall looks at Zayn who’s napping on the couch, beanie pulled down over his face and head turned slightly to the side in a way that Niall knows from experience will leave Zayn with a crick in the neck.
“No.”
Niall looks at back at Liam. He knows that Liam’s right. Niall should talk to Zayn about the cuddle. It was far too long to have been a cuddle between mates, he knows that, but he’s not entirely sure if he wants to find out exactly what that means.
“Liam, I can’t.”
“I think you should go for it, still. It was more than a friendly cuddle, Niall; you’ve got to be able to see that. You’re the only one Zayn hugs for more than a couple of seconds. I think, maybe, that you’re not the only one who’s confused, and it’s best to find out, yeah? So that you can move on if he doesn’t.”
Niall nods, because it’s sound advice. Still, it terrifies him to find out.
“I’ll think about it,” he says, and devours the rest of his sandwich in two bites, stuffing his mouth so full that even if Liam wanted to get him to talk more about his feelings for Zayn he wouldn’t be able to. Liam smiles knowingly.
Niall kills his guitar solo during rehearsals, and he throws himself into the songs with so much gusto that all the guys’ energy levels seem so spike up a bit. All in all, Niall thinks it’s a successful first day back in the studio, and he can’t help but share his feelings with twitter.
*
He’s emptying the dishwasher and singing along to Michael Bublé who’s playing on the radio when he hears the front door closing. He grabs the remote and turns down the music, walking towards the living room to see who it is, hand holding the remote like a weapon just in case.
“Zayn,” he says, startled as he sees Zayn standing in the middle of his living room with one hands buried deep in the pocket of his jeans while his other hand is holding a bundle of keys-one of which opens Niall’s flat. Niall has keys to Liam, Louis, Harry and Zayn’s places too. Because for some reason they had all thought it would be a good idea to have keys to each other’s places in case of emergencies, seeing as they had already gotten used sharing keys during touring where they had shared their hotel room keys.
“Sorry, I knocked like five times but you didn’t open so I used my key,” says Zayn, looking vaguely amused at the remote in Niall’s hand. Niall lowers his hand, shrugging sheepishly and doing his best to keep his blush under control.
“What?” he asks when Zayn merely arches an eyebrow. “You could have been an intruder, or a maybe a fan. Or like a crazy person. I had to be ready to defend myself.”
“Right,” says Zayn, a tiny hint of a smirk gracing the corner of his lips.
Niall leans against the doorframe, inhales deeply and exhales again. The air feels different, charged, like something’s about to happen, and he’s not sure if he likes that or not.
“So, I talked to Louis,” says Zayn, and Niall can feel the smile slipping from his face, ever so slowly.
“Oh.” He knows where this is going. He fiddles with the remote, considers turning the music back up so he won’t be able to hear what Zayn has to say.
“Yeah. He’s gotten it in his head that you proper fancy me?” Zayn looks at him like he’s finding the whole thing cracked. Niall sighs. Of course it was Louis who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “And I told him that was crazy because you don’t fancy me like that, yeah? I mean, I know you love me like a mate but not like that. Right?”
Niall looks away, not sure what to say, and he quickly realizes his mistake when he hear the sharp intake of breath coming from Zayn.
“Wait, he was right?”
Niall looks at Zayn, knows that now’s the time to confess, to get it off his chest and see what happens, but all he can do is shrug. He can’t deny it because he’s sort of daft when it comes to lying, but he’s definitely not ready to admit anything either.
Zayn’s eyes widen for a split second, but then he relaxes again. Zayn offers him a small smile, a small but genuine smile that makes Niall’s heart skip a beat.
“I thought he was messing with my head.”
“How so?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, confused.
“Because I think I quite fancy you too, and I thought he was pulling my leg when he said that.”
“You fancy me?” Niall asks, smiling.
Zayn doesn’t answer, just takes a step closer, and then another, until he’s standing right in front of Niall. He throws his keys on the table next to them, and grabs the remote from Niall’s hands. Niall wants to say something, but the look Zayn gives him makes him shut his mouth before he manages to utter a single word.
Warm hands touch his cheeks, keeping his face still as Zayn moves closer, so close that Niall’s back is pressed up against the doorframe. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s like he can’t speak with Zayn crowding so close to him. He feels a bit like the wind’s been knocked out of his lungs but he doesn’t really mind too terribly.
Zayn leans down, his hands moving down to the back of Niall’s neck, helping him tilt his head in the proper angle before Zayn presses his lips against Niall’s. The kiss is warm and dry, but it still feels like the best kiss ever.
“Yeah?” asks Zayn, moving his head just far enough back that Niall can see his eyes.
“Please. Yes, yeah,” he manages to say, voice no more than a whisper. He hesitantly reaches out and places his hands on Zayn’s hips, his fingers splayed against the fabric of Zayn’s dark jeans.
Zayn starts leaning closer again, and Niall wants to meet him halfway, but Zayn’s hold on the back of his head makes it impossible to move an inch. He whines, but Zayn just smiles before lightly brushing his lips against Niall’s. It’s so soft and sweet that it makes Niall’s head spin with want.
“Kiss me proper,” he murmurs against Zayn’s lips.
“Yeah,” says Zayn, voice low and husky, and Niall can feel himself harden in his trousers. Zayn finally does as Niall wants and deepens the kiss. It feels amazing. Niall has always suspected that Zayn’s a good kisser, but he never thought he’d actually get to experience it first-hand.
“So we’re doing this?” asks Niall when he gets the chance. His fingers slip under Zayn’s shirt, nails scratching the skin gentle, which makes Zayn gasp, and Niall smile in delight.
“Yes,” is all Zayn says before he kisses Niall again, this time soft and sweet again.
*
Watching Zayn smoke never ceases to amaze Niall, but what he likes the most is after when he gets to lick out the smoke from Zayn’s mouth.
fin.