here's what i'll do (i'll take care of you)
title: here's what i'll do (i'll take care of you)
pairing: liam payne/zayn malik
rating/warnings: PG. so much fluff you'll probably explode.
word count: ~2900
summary: five times liam forgets to eat and zayn remembers for him. filled for this prompt.
A/N: just... a lot of fluff. domestic fluff. with lots of liam's feelings. yeah. tried a slightly different style of writing, i hope it worked out!
----
liam never means to forget.
he yells at the other boys often enough to know, and really he does take care of himself, because he out of all of them know just how fragile life is.
(he remembers that night, when he wanted to just forget everything and then he really did, forgot he wasn't whole inside and poured down enough burning liquid to leave him in the hospital for five days. he remembers, now.)
but sometimes, sometimes, he's just so busy. busy smiling and thanking and talking to a thousand strange faces and keeping four hands on these idiots that he loves but who don't seem to know how to grow up. and if sometimes starts to border on all the time, well, that's a good thing, right? it means they're living their dream.
so when he has the time, he reminds himself that keeping them afloat is more important than a meal three hours too late. the fame is more fragile than he is, the boys are more important, so he works harder and keeps his fingers curled around his dream.
(he forgets about himself.)
//
the clock on the hotel nightstand says 8:53 pm and liam's finishing up his twitcam when he realizes how hungry he is. his stomach screams empty and normally he can ignore it, but he's turned off the webcam and for once there's nothing he needs to do, to distract him.
when was the last time i ate?
his stomach growls angrily - too long ago - and there's a voice that whispers, take care of yourself. the voice is husky and it sounds like smoke and maybe it tastes just a little like mint -
(he's hallucinating from the hunger, liam guesses, which is new.)
and then his door clicks open, swings forward two inches, stops. liam stares and almost jumps when another gurgle issues from beneath his jumper.
the door finishes opening itself and liam thinks, okay, maybe not hallucinating, because zayn is standing there, toeing the door closed and balancing a plate and soda can in both hands. he trots over to where liam's sitting on the bed and plunks the food down on the nightstand.
he's close when liam looks up and he can smell the pizza, but mostly he smells shampoo and soft hair and chocolate and fresh clothes.
zayn grins - like the crescent of the moon, liam thinks, and his mind whispers dangerous - and ruffles liam's shoulders.
"figured you wouldn't have eaten, you've been holed up in here after the interview. i saved some pizza and i thought, you know, i'd come check up on you," zayn smirks, "make sure you hadn't like, died of starvation or something."
liam keeps staring and just inhaling deeper and deeper - he thinks maybe the hunger has sharpened his senses, because he doesn't think he's ever smelled all of this, the scents of everything that wafts off zayn's body - and zayn looks a little worried.
"hey, li, you gotta eat, i know you've only had that bag of crisps since the interview." he takes a slice of pizza and liam's hand and tries to pull both up towards liam's mouth.
liam blinks at the feeling of zayn's hand tugging on his and opens his mouth automatically. when he bites down the pizza is lukewarm but he doesn't mind, finishes the rest with zayn's fingers still attached to his wrist. he downs the coke too, licking his lips after the last drop.
zayn watches him the whole time and sighs softly when he's done. he pulls liam down and they topple onto the sheets, faces close. liam can almost count zayn's eyelashes.
"thank you," he says, and zayn's eyes crinkle.
"anytime."
two hours later liam's brushed his teeth and changed and zayn's still there, so they snuggle under the covers and listen to each other breathe. under the toothpaste liam can still feel the fizz of the soda and a tiny hint of cheese in the back of his throat, and for some reason it doesn't make him think of cavities.
he runs his tongue along the corner of his mouth and falls asleep to the clock ticking and the gentle weight of zayn's hand against his stomach.
//
he forgets again a few days later.
they have a rare day off and liam decides to hell with it and sleeps in. he wakes up feeling strangely tired and achy and lonely - all the others have gone downstairs for breakfast, even zayn - and so he forgoes the coffee and pulls on his running clothes.
he runs hard, trying to shake the weight in his limbs, feeling the sun drape him in sweat. he goes back to the hotel only when he's finally awake, wide-eyed and breathing heavy.
(he still feels like something's missing, though.)
no one's in their rooms and he showers, the odd loneliness sticking to his heels. he thinks he should go down and eat, but he never can after a run so liam flops down on the bed and immerses himself in twitter.
he's scrolled through a dozen pages of tweets when the door bangs open and niall bounces in, shaking a box of muffins and smelling like coffee and sunshine.
niall leaps half on the bed, half on liam. "want a muffin?"
liam hums and continues scrolling. "no thanks, nialler." he looks up, pats niall's head for goodwill.
niall shrugs, grins. "more for me, then." he shoves one down and rolls off the bed, flying back out the door.
a few pages later and the door opens again. liam doesn't look up this time, just dashes off a tweet - jst went runnin, weather in swedens amzin - but the weight pressing into his side has a solidity that niall, thin limbs and lanky body, doesn't have.
liam turns his head and -
oh, that's what was missing.
zayn looks at him like he doesn’t know whether to smile or frown. his lips quirk up and down and liam really shouldn't be so fascinated but it's really kind of distracting -
his stomach objects, suddenly and loudly, and zayn settles into a frown.
"did you have lunch yet?"
liam shakes his head. "what time is it?" he flicks his phone back on as zayn says "one forty."
zayn's expression is oddly familiar. "breakfast?"
"um." liam wrinkles his nose. "no. i woke up late, went for a run. i guess i forgot." he tries to laugh but zayn wraps a hand around his arm and is pulling him up, so he shuts his mouth and breathes.
"you can't not eat when you run, liam," and he's being dragged out of his room. "we're going to get food, alright?"
it's not a question but liam appreciates it all the same.
(later, as zayn sits across from him in the diner, liam remembers that look. it's the one he always wears when he's taking care of the lads, and suddenly the memory of it on zayn's face makes him unaccountably warm.)
//
occasionally liam wonders what it'd be like if he weren't liam. if he didn't feel the need to take care all the time, make sure lou isn't moping over little things and harry isn't getting too frustrated at management and niall isn't forgetting to breathe when they're being attacked by fans and zayn isn't smoking his lungs into black tar.
(it's that last that really bothers him, but he thinks he knows so liam keeps the whispers of i love you, please don't in his throat)
liam wonders if he'd have more time to take care of himself.
but he's been having a streak of bad (good) luck, recently, and he's really struggling to keep himself running, because he knows if he falls they do, too. liam thinks he would mind more if it weren't for -
well, he doesn't want to admit it. liam's not stupid (even if he feels like it, sometimes) and he can notice that even if zayn doesn't take the best care of himself, he never fails to make sure liam gets enough food.
(sleep, not so much, but liam is even less likely to admit to that.)
he also notices that the first time zayn cooks anything other than macaroni and cheese from the box, liam's two hours late for dinner, and he really can't not notice when he finds a note in zayn's phone, make sure liam eats!!
liam's torn between feeling like some kind of failure and the memory of zayn slipping a hot spoonful of soup into his mouth. he's not used to this - being on the receiving end of taking care - and it feels kind of backwards and upside-down.
it also feels kind of warm and tingly and nice.
liam tries not to think about it too much. he’s gone down to the gym in an attempt to sort himself out but zayn's alone in their flat, and maybe he's standing in the kitchen waiting for liam and none of this is being conducive to not thinking.
he adds another weight to the bar and pretends not to see the clock.
his phone rings forty five minutes later and liam doesn't have to look at the screen to know why. he takes a deep breath but doesn't try to hide the exertion in his lungs.
"hey."
"hey. i've been getting lonely up here by myself, payne."
"i - " liam stares at the clock, the black numerals engraving themselves on his eyelids. "sorry," he breathes, "lost track of time."
zayn's laugh is scratchy and low from the other end. "s'alright, li. you wanna come up now?"
liam nods uselessly. "yeah, i just - "
"i made dinner," zayn cuts him off, and liam can hear his smile, "so you'd better hurry up and try it for me, i don't know if it's any good."
suddenly liam's really, ridiculously happy and he doesn't know why. he grins into the phone.
"i'll be right up."
//
liam makes sure not to forget again after that. once, he tells himself. once is enough (and there's a flicker of guilt in his lungs that agrees).
so a week passes and and nothing happens. his mealtimes are still a little off but he chalks it down the same old way, and then -
disaster strikes.
- at least, that's how liam sees it. liam realizes he's probably being melodramatic, but he's always managed to stay healthy and he doesn't know why else he's stuck in his flat, three half-empty boxes of tissues on the floor and the lion king playing blearily on the television set.
he wouldn't mind it so much, maybe, but zayn's gone back to bradford and the loneliness stuffing up the flat is only amplified by the empty dip in the other side of the mattress.
(liam tries not to choke on it.)
he's really not in the mood to do anything but sleep and be miserable, and he's lying limply on the sofa when he realizes how dark it is outside. liam briefly considers between getting up to take a shower and burying himself deeper into the cushions, and compromises by dragging his upper body off the edge until he's half collapsed on the floor, arm curling blindly in search of his phone.
the door swings open and the light clicks on and liam promptly topples off the sofa.
"liam? oh god, liam -" and a warm arm is tugging at him and cool fingers rub over his forehead - "liam, baby, what happened?"
liam blinks up fuzzily and tries to breathe. "thought you weren't coming back til tomorrow," he croaks.
zayn's managed to hoist him back onto the sofa. he smooths a hand through liam's hair. "harry texted me. he said you were sick, so i came back."
you didn't have to, liam tries to say, but his throat hurts and he settles for gripping zayn's wrist. zayn sighs softly and presses his palm against liam's cheek.
"have you eaten anything?"
liam shakes his head, eyes closed. "wasn't hungry." zayn huffs.
"i'll be right back," he says, and drops a kiss on liam's forehead. liam hears quiet banging in the kitchen for a while and then zayn's settling back on the sofa with a plate of saltine crackers and a glass of water.
“please,” zayn says. “try to eat.”
somehow liam manages to swallow it all down. zayn curls his arms around him and half-drags, half-carries him to the (unmade) bed and wraps them both clumsily in the blankets.
they breathe together for a bit. “you’ll get sick too, if you stay,” liam says suddenly, then coughs into the pillow, to prove his point.
he can feel zayn rolling his eyes. “i’ll be fine, li.” he pauses. “unless you want me to leave?”
liam shakes his head. his ears ring and he stops and curls closer into zayn’s chest.
“then i’ll stay.” zayn’s voice melts into a whisper. “go to sleep, li.”
liam does.
//
the longest liam's missed lunch by is approximately three and half hours, which he knows because even niall noticed (he had clutched his chest in half-mock horror and declared liam insane).
today, he thinks hurriedly, he's on track to break that record.
and it wasn't like he's forgotten, not this time. he knows he should eat, his stomach is shrieking for food, but goddamnit there are things he needs to do, people he needs to talk to and places he needs to be.
(liam doesn't usually have time to think, but when he does, he thinks that maybe when he dreamed he hadn't dreamt of this.)
they're run through two interviews, a wardrobe check and another meeting with management about toning-down-the-touching (though this is mostly directed at louis and harry) and since liam cares - and he's insane too, apparently - he stays behind to talk to chris about the rest of the tour.
the hour hand is ticking its way towards the four and liam is listening to chris explain things they'll have to keep in mind when they're in america again, forcing his stomach to stay quiet, when zayn bursts into the room.
liam's surprised to see louis trailing behind, managing to look both bemused and mischievous, but mostly he's taken aback by the thin line of zayn's mouth, the way his eyebrows are pressed together.
"hey zayn, lou, i was just talking to chris abou-"
he's cut off by zayn striding in front of him and hooking two fingers through his belt loops and yanking him towards the door. "zayn! what are you doing?"
zayn doesn't say anything, just slows down. one thumb comes up to rub circles into the hipbone above liam's waistband.
(liam's starting to feel faint, and it's not because his last meal was more than nine hours ago.)
zayn's voice is soft and edged in worry. "you haven't eaten lunch yet, liam, and it's almost dinnertime, you can't do this to yourself." he looks at liam, eyes like burnt sugar and sooty lashes, and whispers, "please."
liam doesn't have much to say to that. he lets zayn pull him gently past louis, who's still standing by the door. louis winks and tosses a bright "see you, chris," over his shoulder before trotting after them.
they end up in harry's kitchen (which is also lou's) along with niall. zayn knocks niall's arm away from the plate of burritos and pushes it towards liam, ignoring niall's protests.
"eat," he orders.
when liam finishes, zayn wipes sauce off the side of his mouth with a wordless smile.
//
after, cuddling on louis-and-harry's sofa, zayn turns his head into liam's neck and mumbles into his collarbone. "don't do that again," zayn's fingers tighten into his shirtfront. "promise me you'll remember to eat."
liam presses his nose into zayn’s hair, inhaling his cologne and hair gel and the smell of their pillows, and tells the truth. “i can’t promise i’ll remember,” he says, and kisses the impending frown off of zayn’s face. “but i’ll promise i’ll try.”
zayn’s mouth looks like a protest and liam sighs and curls a finger under his chin. “maybe,” he starts, “maybe you can help me remember, yeah?”
zayn blinks and for a moment his eyelashes sweep breathlessly over his cheekbones. liam’s heart is beating a little too loudly but he hangs on to the curve of zayn’s jaw and hopes -
“yeah,” zayn agrees. liam swallows his breath, and then their lips are touching again.
(when liam licks hungrily into zayn's mouth, it tastes like caring and five flavors of home and maybe just a little like mint.)
pairing: liam payne/zayn malik
rating/warnings: PG. so much fluff you'll probably explode.
word count: ~2900
summary: five times liam forgets to eat and zayn remembers for him. filled for this prompt.
A/N: just... a lot of fluff. domestic fluff. with lots of liam's feelings. yeah. tried a slightly different style of writing, i hope it worked out!
----
liam never means to forget.
he yells at the other boys often enough to know, and really he does take care of himself, because he out of all of them know just how fragile life is.
(he remembers that night, when he wanted to just forget everything and then he really did, forgot he wasn't whole inside and poured down enough burning liquid to leave him in the hospital for five days. he remembers, now.)
but sometimes, sometimes, he's just so busy. busy smiling and thanking and talking to a thousand strange faces and keeping four hands on these idiots that he loves but who don't seem to know how to grow up. and if sometimes starts to border on all the time, well, that's a good thing, right? it means they're living their dream.
so when he has the time, he reminds himself that keeping them afloat is more important than a meal three hours too late. the fame is more fragile than he is, the boys are more important, so he works harder and keeps his fingers curled around his dream.
(he forgets about himself.)
//
the clock on the hotel nightstand says 8:53 pm and liam's finishing up his twitcam when he realizes how hungry he is. his stomach screams empty and normally he can ignore it, but he's turned off the webcam and for once there's nothing he needs to do, to distract him.
when was the last time i ate?
his stomach growls angrily - too long ago - and there's a voice that whispers, take care of yourself. the voice is husky and it sounds like smoke and maybe it tastes just a little like mint -
(he's hallucinating from the hunger, liam guesses, which is new.)
and then his door clicks open, swings forward two inches, stops. liam stares and almost jumps when another gurgle issues from beneath his jumper.
the door finishes opening itself and liam thinks, okay, maybe not hallucinating, because zayn is standing there, toeing the door closed and balancing a plate and soda can in both hands. he trots over to where liam's sitting on the bed and plunks the food down on the nightstand.
he's close when liam looks up and he can smell the pizza, but mostly he smells shampoo and soft hair and chocolate and fresh clothes.
zayn grins - like the crescent of the moon, liam thinks, and his mind whispers dangerous - and ruffles liam's shoulders.
"figured you wouldn't have eaten, you've been holed up in here after the interview. i saved some pizza and i thought, you know, i'd come check up on you," zayn smirks, "make sure you hadn't like, died of starvation or something."
liam keeps staring and just inhaling deeper and deeper - he thinks maybe the hunger has sharpened his senses, because he doesn't think he's ever smelled all of this, the scents of everything that wafts off zayn's body - and zayn looks a little worried.
"hey, li, you gotta eat, i know you've only had that bag of crisps since the interview." he takes a slice of pizza and liam's hand and tries to pull both up towards liam's mouth.
liam blinks at the feeling of zayn's hand tugging on his and opens his mouth automatically. when he bites down the pizza is lukewarm but he doesn't mind, finishes the rest with zayn's fingers still attached to his wrist. he downs the coke too, licking his lips after the last drop.
zayn watches him the whole time and sighs softly when he's done. he pulls liam down and they topple onto the sheets, faces close. liam can almost count zayn's eyelashes.
"thank you," he says, and zayn's eyes crinkle.
"anytime."
two hours later liam's brushed his teeth and changed and zayn's still there, so they snuggle under the covers and listen to each other breathe. under the toothpaste liam can still feel the fizz of the soda and a tiny hint of cheese in the back of his throat, and for some reason it doesn't make him think of cavities.
he runs his tongue along the corner of his mouth and falls asleep to the clock ticking and the gentle weight of zayn's hand against his stomach.
//
he forgets again a few days later.
they have a rare day off and liam decides to hell with it and sleeps in. he wakes up feeling strangely tired and achy and lonely - all the others have gone downstairs for breakfast, even zayn - and so he forgoes the coffee and pulls on his running clothes.
he runs hard, trying to shake the weight in his limbs, feeling the sun drape him in sweat. he goes back to the hotel only when he's finally awake, wide-eyed and breathing heavy.
(he still feels like something's missing, though.)
no one's in their rooms and he showers, the odd loneliness sticking to his heels. he thinks he should go down and eat, but he never can after a run so liam flops down on the bed and immerses himself in twitter.
he's scrolled through a dozen pages of tweets when the door bangs open and niall bounces in, shaking a box of muffins and smelling like coffee and sunshine.
niall leaps half on the bed, half on liam. "want a muffin?"
liam hums and continues scrolling. "no thanks, nialler." he looks up, pats niall's head for goodwill.
niall shrugs, grins. "more for me, then." he shoves one down and rolls off the bed, flying back out the door.
a few pages later and the door opens again. liam doesn't look up this time, just dashes off a tweet - jst went runnin, weather in swedens amzin - but the weight pressing into his side has a solidity that niall, thin limbs and lanky body, doesn't have.
liam turns his head and -
oh, that's what was missing.
zayn looks at him like he doesn’t know whether to smile or frown. his lips quirk up and down and liam really shouldn't be so fascinated but it's really kind of distracting -
his stomach objects, suddenly and loudly, and zayn settles into a frown.
"did you have lunch yet?"
liam shakes his head. "what time is it?" he flicks his phone back on as zayn says "one forty."
zayn's expression is oddly familiar. "breakfast?"
"um." liam wrinkles his nose. "no. i woke up late, went for a run. i guess i forgot." he tries to laugh but zayn wraps a hand around his arm and is pulling him up, so he shuts his mouth and breathes.
"you can't not eat when you run, liam," and he's being dragged out of his room. "we're going to get food, alright?"
it's not a question but liam appreciates it all the same.
(later, as zayn sits across from him in the diner, liam remembers that look. it's the one he always wears when he's taking care of the lads, and suddenly the memory of it on zayn's face makes him unaccountably warm.)
//
occasionally liam wonders what it'd be like if he weren't liam. if he didn't feel the need to take care all the time, make sure lou isn't moping over little things and harry isn't getting too frustrated at management and niall isn't forgetting to breathe when they're being attacked by fans and zayn isn't smoking his lungs into black tar.
(it's that last that really bothers him, but he thinks he knows so liam keeps the whispers of i love you, please don't in his throat)
liam wonders if he'd have more time to take care of himself.
but he's been having a streak of bad (good) luck, recently, and he's really struggling to keep himself running, because he knows if he falls they do, too. liam thinks he would mind more if it weren't for -
well, he doesn't want to admit it. liam's not stupid (even if he feels like it, sometimes) and he can notice that even if zayn doesn't take the best care of himself, he never fails to make sure liam gets enough food.
(sleep, not so much, but liam is even less likely to admit to that.)
he also notices that the first time zayn cooks anything other than macaroni and cheese from the box, liam's two hours late for dinner, and he really can't not notice when he finds a note in zayn's phone, make sure liam eats!!
liam's torn between feeling like some kind of failure and the memory of zayn slipping a hot spoonful of soup into his mouth. he's not used to this - being on the receiving end of taking care - and it feels kind of backwards and upside-down.
it also feels kind of warm and tingly and nice.
liam tries not to think about it too much. he’s gone down to the gym in an attempt to sort himself out but zayn's alone in their flat, and maybe he's standing in the kitchen waiting for liam and none of this is being conducive to not thinking.
he adds another weight to the bar and pretends not to see the clock.
his phone rings forty five minutes later and liam doesn't have to look at the screen to know why. he takes a deep breath but doesn't try to hide the exertion in his lungs.
"hey."
"hey. i've been getting lonely up here by myself, payne."
"i - " liam stares at the clock, the black numerals engraving themselves on his eyelids. "sorry," he breathes, "lost track of time."
zayn's laugh is scratchy and low from the other end. "s'alright, li. you wanna come up now?"
liam nods uselessly. "yeah, i just - "
"i made dinner," zayn cuts him off, and liam can hear his smile, "so you'd better hurry up and try it for me, i don't know if it's any good."
suddenly liam's really, ridiculously happy and he doesn't know why. he grins into the phone.
"i'll be right up."
//
liam makes sure not to forget again after that. once, he tells himself. once is enough (and there's a flicker of guilt in his lungs that agrees).
so a week passes and and nothing happens. his mealtimes are still a little off but he chalks it down the same old way, and then -
disaster strikes.
- at least, that's how liam sees it. liam realizes he's probably being melodramatic, but he's always managed to stay healthy and he doesn't know why else he's stuck in his flat, three half-empty boxes of tissues on the floor and the lion king playing blearily on the television set.
he wouldn't mind it so much, maybe, but zayn's gone back to bradford and the loneliness stuffing up the flat is only amplified by the empty dip in the other side of the mattress.
(liam tries not to choke on it.)
he's really not in the mood to do anything but sleep and be miserable, and he's lying limply on the sofa when he realizes how dark it is outside. liam briefly considers between getting up to take a shower and burying himself deeper into the cushions, and compromises by dragging his upper body off the edge until he's half collapsed on the floor, arm curling blindly in search of his phone.
the door swings open and the light clicks on and liam promptly topples off the sofa.
"liam? oh god, liam -" and a warm arm is tugging at him and cool fingers rub over his forehead - "liam, baby, what happened?"
liam blinks up fuzzily and tries to breathe. "thought you weren't coming back til tomorrow," he croaks.
zayn's managed to hoist him back onto the sofa. he smooths a hand through liam's hair. "harry texted me. he said you were sick, so i came back."
you didn't have to, liam tries to say, but his throat hurts and he settles for gripping zayn's wrist. zayn sighs softly and presses his palm against liam's cheek.
"have you eaten anything?"
liam shakes his head, eyes closed. "wasn't hungry." zayn huffs.
"i'll be right back," he says, and drops a kiss on liam's forehead. liam hears quiet banging in the kitchen for a while and then zayn's settling back on the sofa with a plate of saltine crackers and a glass of water.
“please,” zayn says. “try to eat.”
somehow liam manages to swallow it all down. zayn curls his arms around him and half-drags, half-carries him to the (unmade) bed and wraps them both clumsily in the blankets.
they breathe together for a bit. “you’ll get sick too, if you stay,” liam says suddenly, then coughs into the pillow, to prove his point.
he can feel zayn rolling his eyes. “i’ll be fine, li.” he pauses. “unless you want me to leave?”
liam shakes his head. his ears ring and he stops and curls closer into zayn’s chest.
“then i’ll stay.” zayn’s voice melts into a whisper. “go to sleep, li.”
liam does.
//
the longest liam's missed lunch by is approximately three and half hours, which he knows because even niall noticed (he had clutched his chest in half-mock horror and declared liam insane).
today, he thinks hurriedly, he's on track to break that record.
and it wasn't like he's forgotten, not this time. he knows he should eat, his stomach is shrieking for food, but goddamnit there are things he needs to do, people he needs to talk to and places he needs to be.
(liam doesn't usually have time to think, but when he does, he thinks that maybe when he dreamed he hadn't dreamt of this.)
they're run through two interviews, a wardrobe check and another meeting with management about toning-down-the-touching (though this is mostly directed at louis and harry) and since liam cares - and he's insane too, apparently - he stays behind to talk to chris about the rest of the tour.
the hour hand is ticking its way towards the four and liam is listening to chris explain things they'll have to keep in mind when they're in america again, forcing his stomach to stay quiet, when zayn bursts into the room.
liam's surprised to see louis trailing behind, managing to look both bemused and mischievous, but mostly he's taken aback by the thin line of zayn's mouth, the way his eyebrows are pressed together.
"hey zayn, lou, i was just talking to chris abou-"
he's cut off by zayn striding in front of him and hooking two fingers through his belt loops and yanking him towards the door. "zayn! what are you doing?"
zayn doesn't say anything, just slows down. one thumb comes up to rub circles into the hipbone above liam's waistband.
(liam's starting to feel faint, and it's not because his last meal was more than nine hours ago.)
zayn's voice is soft and edged in worry. "you haven't eaten lunch yet, liam, and it's almost dinnertime, you can't do this to yourself." he looks at liam, eyes like burnt sugar and sooty lashes, and whispers, "please."
liam doesn't have much to say to that. he lets zayn pull him gently past louis, who's still standing by the door. louis winks and tosses a bright "see you, chris," over his shoulder before trotting after them.
they end up in harry's kitchen (which is also lou's) along with niall. zayn knocks niall's arm away from the plate of burritos and pushes it towards liam, ignoring niall's protests.
"eat," he orders.
when liam finishes, zayn wipes sauce off the side of his mouth with a wordless smile.
//
after, cuddling on louis-and-harry's sofa, zayn turns his head into liam's neck and mumbles into his collarbone. "don't do that again," zayn's fingers tighten into his shirtfront. "promise me you'll remember to eat."
liam presses his nose into zayn’s hair, inhaling his cologne and hair gel and the smell of their pillows, and tells the truth. “i can’t promise i’ll remember,” he says, and kisses the impending frown off of zayn’s face. “but i’ll promise i’ll try.”
zayn’s mouth looks like a protest and liam sighs and curls a finger under his chin. “maybe,” he starts, “maybe you can help me remember, yeah?”
zayn blinks and for a moment his eyelashes sweep breathlessly over his cheekbones. liam’s heart is beating a little too loudly but he hangs on to the curve of zayn’s jaw and hopes -
“yeah,” zayn agrees. liam swallows his breath, and then their lips are touching again.
(when liam licks hungrily into zayn's mouth, it tastes like caring and five flavors of home and maybe just a little like mint.)