fic: all the stars and boulevards [ 3 ]
title all the stars and boulevards [ 3 ]
author snuffleslove
pairing zayn/liam, harry/louis, girl!niall
word count 60k
rating pg-13 (now)
warnings slash, swearing, drugs, genderswap, abuse, domestic violence, dub-con
summary zayn and louis take on columbia (university!au)
a/n AU where the boys are international students at columbia university and new york city is taken by storm.
Louis sleeps through the whole flight, head resting on Zayn's shoulder, mouth open, but Zayn remains awake, restless with anticipation.
--
At the airport they hail two separate cabs and then they embrace tightly.
"I am just a phone call away," Louis says fiercely and Zayn can only shake his head, torn between anger and gratitude.
--
His hands itch in the cab and he grabs his pack of cigarettes from his bag, rolling down the window. His hands shake as he lights up, takes a drag. He's nervous. Nervous excited mostly. But also just, nervous.
--
They stand there staring at each other for a moment before George lets him into the house silently. He's taller than Zayn remembers somehow and he hasn't shaved so there's dark stubble lining his wide jaw.
"You're just as beautiful as I remember you," George says after a moment, gripping Zayn's face and pulling him close. Zayn blushes, smiles shyly. "Have you been behaving yourself?" there's a growl underneath his words so Zayn hurriedly answers.
"Yeah, of course, love," George nods gruffly and kisses him hard, and Zayn can't help himself, he moans into the kiss, leaning into it, hands scrambling for George's waist.
"Still desperate for it, aren't you babe," George murmurs into Zayn's mouth and Zayn nods because it's true, he is. He's being lowered to the floor right then and there and George is kissing his neck, biting at his collarbone roughly and Zayn moans, arches into the touch.
"Please," he whines, and George laughs at him.
"You want my cock babe? You'll get it, don't worry."
Zayn moans, tries to slow things down because he hasn't done this in months but George is relentless. He doesn't bother removing Zayn's shirt, just unbuckles his trousers and yanks them down, enough so that Zayn can fold his legs up. He gets his own trousers undone, grabbing a condom from his back pocket and Zayn tries to smirk at his preparedness but George is spitting on his finger and entering him quickly with it and Zayn cries out from equal parts pleasure and pain.
A second finger is being added and he feels the scissoring, tries to relax, to let it happen.
"George, love, I haven't done this - Can we -" he pants but George is too focused on lining his cock up to his entrance, pushing in without pause. There's a burn and tears spring to Zayn's eyes but he blinks them away because George is just desperate, desperate for him and that means something doesn't it.
His cock has softened a bit so he begins to stroke himself quickly, knowing George doesn't like it when Zayn's soft while they're making love. It starts to feel good after a bit, and George is reaching that spot right there and he moans his name.
After George comes he pulls out slowly, ties off the condom and throws it to the side somewhere and then lays down heavily next to Zayn. Zayn closes his eyes and strokes himself, focusing on George's proximity and the way his breath hitches as he watches. He comes silently all over his t-shirt.
"Welcome back," George smirks, getting up slowly and helping Zayn up after him. "Grab the condom will you?"
--
Zayn wakes up to a beep from his cell phone. The bed is empty and cold and he rubs his eyes and checks the time. Ten thirty am. There's a text from Louis and a picture shows up on his phone of him and his four sisters. Zayn gazes fondly at it.
"we all miss u here. esp Lottie. how're u?"
"m'fine. tell her i love her. miss u too. stay out of trouble." he responds quickly. Then he gets out of bed, stretching in the soft morning glow.
--
George is in the living room watching telly and when Zayn enters he whips his head back and grins at him wolfishly.
"Good you're up. 'Ve got to show you something." He leads Zayn by the elbow down a long hallway and finally turns to stand in front of a closed door, a huge grin spreading across his face.
"Brace yourself, babe, this is gonna blow you away." He opens the door with a flourish and Zayn lets out a small gasp, because jesus it really is mind blowing. Lined from wall to wall of the huge room are tables of potted marijuana plants. The room is dank and smells like dirt and weed and Zayn almost chokes.
"Best product for miles, I'm telling you," George says proudly. "We've got a whole network working deals now. I get the biggest cut obviously and it makes a good fucking business. Never thought I'd be able to expand like this did you?" George smirks.
"This is brilliant, love," Zayn breathes, trying not let on that he's nervous. George cups Zayn's face.
"When are you coming back home for good baby? I need you for this."
Zayn's body warms wonderfully and he gives George a soft smile.
"Soon. Two years and I'll be done."
"Fuck that," George says, scowling. "Stuck up bastards want to tell you you need to get an education but let me tell you something, I'm going to make more money than you ever will and I'll be damned if I ever step foot inside a college."
Zayn flushes, embarrassed. He's probably right, anyway.
"I'm just going to make mum happy," Zayn says quietly. "Then I'll be back here for good, doing whatever you need me to do, alright love?"
"Yeah. You make your sodding mum happy. And then you better fucking come back," his hand grips Zayn's wrist painfully tight and Zayn tries not to wince. "I better not hear that you've taken up with some dirty slut from the States."
"Of-of course not, George, baby, I would never -" he stammers, heart in his throat. It seems to calm George and he nods, loosening his grip on Zayn's wrist and bringing it to his lips to kiss away the bruise gently. Zayn shuts his eyes in relief.
"I'm sorry babe," George says against his skin. "I just want you here with me. I'm sorry if I hurt you." He tilts Zayn's chin up and kisses him smoothly. "Come on, I want you to experience the quality of this stuff."
--
They spend the day in bed, kissing sweet smoke into each other's mouths.
--
Zayn wakes up before George the next morning and quietly disentangles himself from the his arms and pads silently into the kitchen. He busies himself checking the fridge and cupboards, trying to turn the meager contents of George's pantry into breakfast. He hums to himself softly, unable to erase the touch of a smile that flits across his lips from time to time.
At ten thirty am his phone goes off and Zayn rolls his eyes but reaches for it anyway. Louis's sent him a picture of him and his mum and they're holding out a plate of pancakes.
"mum made ur favo this morning. she misses u too keeps going on n on abt the last drawing u did of her howre u x"
Zayn's smiles despite himself and types out a quick reply (im fine ik ur worrying STOP) before hurrying to catch the eggs before they burn.
When George wakes up he musses Zayn's hair and tells him he doesn't know how he survives without him and Zayn feels cherished.
--
In the evening George tells him he has to step out to make a delivery. Zayn wants to go with him but George won't let him, claims it's for his protection, so Zayn just sits on the bed dully as he watches George get ready to go.
--
When George comes back he's plastered and horny. They fuck hard and fast and in silence except for Zayn's occasional whimpers and George's low, heavy grunts.
--
They settle into a quiet pattern for a few days. Zayn wakes up early to make breakfast for George, but it goes cold by the time he manages to drag himself out of bed. Then there's a text from Louis at ten thirty on the dot that Zayn cannot be cruel enough to ignore.
They spend the day lazing about in the quiet, smoking or sleeping, and Zayn thinks the silence is comforting and familiar and he thinks this is what it's like to be in love.
George leaves in the evenings and Zayn wanders around the house aimlessly, answering emails from Niall or catching up on coursework. He calls his mum a lot, apologizing for being so close and yet so far away and it's good to hear her voice, still a soft strength in his ear even though they're miles apart.
George comes back drunk and sometimes they fuck and sometimes he passes out from exhaustion and Zayn will cuddle up next to him, pushing in as close as he can and breathing in his scent made sharp by the liquor on his breath.
--
The painting is still where Zayn remembers it to be and he stands under it once when the house is empty and quiet, wrapping his arms around himself and remembering the feel of George's chapped lips pressing against his own.
--
Zayn settles comfortably at the desk in their bedroom and turns up the volume on his laptop. It's eleven pm here so it's only five pm in the states but Zayn thinks Harry, Niall and Liam are already drunk. He can't help but grin at them, glad to see their faces, distorted as they are by the skype camera. They wave at him and their lips are moving but Zayn can't make out what they're saying so he just smiles like a loon and nods his head. Niall and Liam disappear off the screen and Harry is left just looking at him and smiling. He turns his hair down and musses it up and then flips it back and Zayn feels a tightening in his chest when he realizes how much he's missed that small gesture.
"u cant hear us cn u?" Harry types into the bottom part of the screen. Zayn shakes his head. "niall nd liam are rly drunk. we all miss u a lot. is everything OK over there?" Zayn nods again and smiles. He's in the middle of typing something when he hears the front door slam so he backspaces and retypes.
"george just came in. let me see if he wants to meet u guys."
When George comes into the room though, he's drunker than usual and Zayn knows instinctively that it's a bad idea. He swallows thickly and shuts his laptop.
"Hey babe," he says. "How was it?"
"Who was that?" George asks, tone sharp and on edge.
"What? No one," Zayn responds, keeping his voice calm.
"You're lying. I saw a face. Is that your fuck buddy from school babe?" George sneers, face contorted, and the endearment sounds dirty in his mouth. Zayn blanches. "You tryna skype with your fuck buddy when I leave the house? You give him a show from my bed?" George's voice sounds low and dangerous and Zayn fights to keep the fear at bay. Distant, foggy memories threaten to overcome him but he pushes them back, takes a deep breath.
"Of course not, my love, you're my only, you know that."
George growls at him.
"You piece of shit." He takes Zayn's laptop and flings it to the floor and Zayn is out of his chair and backing into a corner. He just needs to calm him down and then everything will be ok again. But George's eyes are bloodshot and as he steps closer Zayn sees the vein popping from his neck. "Slut. You think I don't know what you get up to when I'm not there? How many cocks have you sucked?"
"George, please," Zayn whispers. "You're wrong -" The skin on skin contact makes an obscene noise and Zayn winces, tears springing to his eyes as he reaches out to touch his reddening cheek.
"Don't fucking tell me I'm wrong. You think you're better than me because you go to school with all those pretty boy cock suckers? You're nothing but a whore Zayn and I think..." he trails off, his gaze malicious and predatory. But it's just the alcohol, it's just the alcohol. "And I think you need to be reminded about exactly whose whore you are." Zayn's chest constricts and he can't breathe. No, not again, please.
"No, George, please. I know, I swear," Zayn begs.
"Say it." Zayn swallows. Tears run silently down his cheeks and his mouth moves but no sounds comes out. It's going to be Okay. It'll be over soon. George hits him hard, straight in the stomach and Zayn sputters, vision blurring, but he doesn't cry out. "Say it."
"I'm your whore," Zayn whispers. George raises his hand once more and Zayn closes his eyes, whimpering as he tries to shut out the blows. It'll go away. It'll go away and things will go back to normal he's just angry.
"Louder," George demands, and Zayn repeats the ugly words in between cries, crumpling in on himself, a sharp pain shooting up his right leg. George is chanting againagainagain and kicking at him in time to the words, laughing when Zayn sobs out, begs him to stop, pleadspromiseswhimpers but George's voice is cruel and unforgiving and his callous laughter rings out in the small room.
"You filthy fucking bitch," George is saying and he's delivering blow after blow on Zayn's curled up form and then the world goes cold.
--
Zayn wakes up and immediately pulls back into himself, away from the person in the corner of his vision.
"Jesus," Louis says, voice stifled and cracked. He looks like he's just been slapped."It's me Zayn. It's Louis. I'm not -" he chokes, "Fuck," he wipes at his face angrily. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Lou?" Zayn's throat is sore and and his voice sounds foreign to him and he's beginning to notice that everything hurts. He closes his eyes briefly and he can suddenly feel the blows on him again, see George's disgusted face, smell the booze. He shudders, opens his eyes to focus on Louis' face. Louis' eyes are red and his hair is matted and he looks exhausted and miserable. "What happened?" he asks with some effort. "Where am I?"
"You're in a hospital," Louis whispers. "I -" He can't go on and he wipes his face with a hand in frustration.
"It's alright, Lou," Zayn says soothingly. He reaches out an unsteady hand to cover Louis' where it rests on the hospital bed. "I'm alright."
"I'm sorry, I'm supposed to be -" he shakes his head, anger at himself visible beneath the tear stained lines of his face and Zayn is suddenly so sorry to have put him through this. He's hurting everyone around him and it makes him sick. "I found you," Louis says when he can speak again. "When you didn't answer my text this morning I - Well, I got worried. And when I found you I - I've never seen it that bad, I - Jesus Zayn, I thought you were dead." There are silent tears streaming down his face now and it makes Zayn's stomach turn and his eyes blur. He doesn't know how to make this better.
"Come here," Zayn decides on finally. "It's alright, Louis. I'm right here. Come here. Hold me." He thinks he's doing alright because Louis sniffles, offers him a watery smile before climbing gently into the narrow hospital bed and fitting his arm around him. Zayn controls his wince because he hurts but it feels good to have Louis close. Makes him brave enough to ask the questions he's afraid to know the answers to.
"How bad?" he asks into Louis' chest.
"It's not so bad," Louis' voice is steadier now and Zayn is grateful. "Docs were worried because you were out cold for so long but they think that could have been more of a mental reason than a physical one -"
"How long?" Zayn interrupts.
"About 14 hours? It's around 3 in the afternoon now."
"And George?" Zayn's voice is barely audible to his own ears but he can feel Louis tense around him.
"He - wasn't there - when I got there," Louis manages to keep his tone neutral but Zayn knows what he's thinking anyway. "What happened Zayn?" Zayn shuts his eyes, shakes his head. It's so embarrassing. Such a stupid mistake. Louis nuzzles into his hair, kissing his forehead and Zayn sighs.
"So, when can I go home?" Zayn asks, voice small.
"I'm not sure, Zayner, I'm sorry. The nurse said you have a few bruised ribs and a sprained ankle so you're going to need crutches and -" he breaks off. "Fuck Zayn, please," and the desperation is back in Louis' voice. "Please Zayner, I'm begging you. Don't go back to him. Not after this. You're in the hospital because of him. He hurt you so badly I found you passed out on the floor of your bedroom and. That's not love, Zayn." He cups Zayn's chin, forcing him to look at him. Zayn tries to look away but he can't, he's drawn by something in Louis' eyes that pins him helplessly in his stare.
"He's only human. He - he has anger issues," Zayn mumbles but even he can hear that his voice is half hearted and when did that change?
"He just left you there Zayn. Even when he had cooled down he just. Zayn. That's not love." Zayn screws his eyes shut against the words but they press into him anyway, reverberating in his mind, creating a chasm there. And it's more painful than any physical blow to feel this kind of change, to have it sweep over you and knock the air out of you all at once because maybe Louis's right.
There's a shift in his vision suddenly, and the strength of his arms, the fear of his drunken breath, the alarm from his raised voice comes flooding to Zayn and he tries to push it all away, tries to bring back the warmth of a shared joint or the ease of a comfortable silence because this is all he knows, all he's ever known. But Louis' words play on repeat that'snotlovethat'snotlove and Louis' strong arms - arms that he's never afraid of - anchor him.
Maybe it isn't love.
Zayn trembles in those arms and Louis holds on tighter, murmuring into his hair and stroking his bruised arms lightly. His ribs ache dully but it's a good pain, a pain that means he's still here, a pain that maybe means he can move on.
--
Zayn wakes up to pain, building low in his stomach and taking his breath away. He stifles a groan, careful to keep still so as not to wake Louis, who is still curled up at his side, breathing steady. He grips the side of the bed until his knuckles turn white, trying to take deep breaths. Louis stirs but doesn't wake and Zayn bites his lip, tries to keep from trembling, praying it'll subside quickly.
Just when he decides he can't take it anymore a nurse walks in. She takes one look at his pale, strickened face and hurries to his side, fumbling to change the morphine bag. Louis does wake now, blinking away sleep and sitting up slightly, watching the nurse's movements sleepily.
"You should have rang for one of us," she chides gently, adjusting his IV, "Your body is too weak to handle that amount of pain right now, alright honey?" Zayn feels Louis' entire body tense next to him and he forces himself to nod sheepishly.
"I can see about getting an extra cot in here for you if you'd like," she says to Louis.
"I'm fine," he replies, and his voice is strained and curt. She just nods and Zayn imagines she's dealt with much worse.
"You should go home," Zayn says when she leaves and the pain has subsided enough for him to breathe easily. The sun is setting and its last rays stream in through the small window. Zayn's nose is numbed by the smell of antiseptic. He turns to his best friend, looking up at him from where his head is lying on his chest.
"I'm good here," Louis replies shortly, keeping his eyes closed. "We'll go home together tomorrow."
"Lou - " Zayn protests weakly. Louis opens his eyes to stare hard at Zayn.
"Yes?" he prompts, eyebrows raised.
"I have - All my stuff is at George's."
"Buy new stuff," Louis says firmly, and closes his eyes against anything else Zayn wants to say.
--
In the end, Louis does convince him to stay at his mom's place for the few days they have left before their flight. It's not a difficult decision, not when Louis' looking at him like that. Zayn's heart is in his throat as he stares up at Louis' closed off face. Louis watches as Zayn's doctors run a few tests, give him instructions for pain medication and a referral for a psych consult, and his expression is unreadable, shoulders set. Zayn tries to make a joke out of it after they leave, discharge papers signed, but Louis doesn't laugh, doesn't say anything.
--
He's quiet in the car too. The drive is long and fuzzy music plays on the radio and Zayn tries to believe it's like the road trips they used to take together when they were younger, feet up on the dashboard, windows rolled down, but there's a pair of crutches lying in the backseat and two new bruises color Zayn's arm and he's so tired.
"Have you spoken to any of the others?" Zayn asks quietly, voice barely audible over the gentle thrum of the engine. Niall might worry because he hasn't written to her in a few days. Louis shrugs, hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.
"Spoke to Niall," he says noncommitally. Zayn nods in relief.
"And Harry? How is he?" Louis shrugs again, mouth forming a thin line.
"I'm sure he's fine," Louis answers finally.
"Are you guys -"
"We're fine," Louis cuts him off, voice crisp. Zayn wants desperately to say more. Wants Louis to yell and scream and hit him like George does because this wall is so much worse. He hesitates, but can't resist.
"And - and Li?"
"Liam's fine, Zayn."
Zayn nods, shrinks back into his chair, leaving Louis alone with his thoughts.
Instead he passes time trying to harmonize to the sounds on the stereo, until Louis turns it off without a word. Zayn swallows and closes his eyes but doesn't try to break the heavy silence.
--
Louis opens the car door for him and helps him to stand, passing him his crutches. He doesn't return Zayn's smile. But Jay is there, pressing a kiss to his forehead and clutching his shoulders gently, and in the late afternoon sun she looks beautiful and just as Zayn remembers her.
"We're so glad to have you Zayn," she says softly. He searches her eyes for pity but there is none. Either Louis hasn't given her details, or she's a great actor. He's thankful. "The girls are thrilled," she says, "and maybe you can tell me more about this Harry Styles." Zayn's eyes widen. He's seen Louis through several relationships, but none of them have ever been brought to Jay's attention. He thinks of Harry's soft smile and wonders if this is it for Louis. He can hear his friend groan in the background but he smiles at Jay as he hobbles up the steps, clumsy with the crutches.
"He's brilliant, Jay, you'd love him. He's also very fit," Zayn says with as much cheek as he can muster and Jay tuts a little, laughing. She holds open the front door for him and he barely makes it through before the girls are there. The twins and Felicite curl themselves around him carefully and he wishes he could pick them up and throw them over his shoulder like he used to. He leans down to gather them close, stumbles a bit, but Louis' hand is on his shoulder, steadying him. Zayn looks up at him, but his face is masked and Zayn can feel a lump in his throat.
"It's so good to see you girls," he says warmly, trying to focus on the way they press against him, feel like home. Lottie hangs back, waits her turn and when he looks up at her she moves forward, embracing him lightly.
"Missed you," she whispers into his ear and he smiles, feeling her soft hair slide between his fingers. She smells like days on the porch and revising on Louis' kitchen table and Zayn breathes her in greedily. He pulls back to examine her thoroughly.
"God, you're beautiful Lots," he says, grinning at her. "Better keep an eye on this one, Lou." Louis just nods though, and Zayn turns back to Lottie in time to catch her pretty blush and the careless roll of her eyes.
"Come on, girls, let's let him through," Jay says. "Would you like anything to eat Zayn?" Zayn's hungry but the distance Louis's putting between them cuts through him and he can't. Not for a minute longer.
"Thanks, Jay, I know you've gone through a lot of trouble, but I think I'm going to pass. I'm exhausted," he says apologetically. Jay nods.
"You're fine, honey. Louis why don't you show him to the guest room? That way you won't have to climb stairs."
"What happened to you, Zayner?" Phoebe interrupts, green eyes doelike and innocent. Zayn flushes.
"I -"
"He just tripped and fell, Phoebs," Louis cuts in and Zayn shoots him a grateful look. "He's going to be all better soon." She nods and smiles before pulling at her sister's hand.
--
"There's extra blankets in the cabinet if you need them and mum pulled out a few of my clothes for you to use," Louis says. Zayn's never slept here; when they were younger they'd always share Louis' bed, and this place feels foreign, leaves a weird taste on his tongue. Louis' stance is tense and Zayn wants to cry. Instead he attempts to tug off his shirt, a soft cry of pain escaping his lips when he tries to move his arms up.
"Here, let me -" Louis moves closer, removes his shirt for him gently, hands fluttering across the rough edges of Zayn's bandages.
"Do you want - " he asks, gesturing at Zayn's trousers. Zayn nods, flushing. He feels like a child and Louis won't fucking look at him. He just unties the drawstring, kneeling to pull them down and over Zayn's cast. When he stands again he's still not meeting Zayn's eye.
"Sleep well," he mumbles, turns to leave, movements stiff. A flood of desperation runs hot through Zayn's blood.
"Louis," Zayn breathes. He tries to get up, but fails, sinking heavily onto the bed. Louis turns slightly anyway, hand on the doorknob, knuckles white. "Please. I'm sorry for this mess, I shouldn't have come here. Please Lou, look at me." Louis turns completely then and Zayn sees that his eyes are shining with tears.
"Don't - " he chokes out. "Don't apolo - just. Fuck. I'm not mad Zayn. I just. I can't get that image out of my head. Of you lying there - shit," he closes his eyes and there are dips in his face that were never there before and Zayn's chest tightens because Louis is schoolyard pranks and first kiss stories and staying out late and Zayn has never seen him so tired. "I almost lost you," he continues in a small voice. Zayn notices a small tremble in his hands. "I can't lose you, Zayn."
Zayn stretches out his hands to him but Louis shakes his head. "I'll be alright. and you're exhausted. Get some sleep, yeah? You shouldn't have to take care of me." Zayn opens his mouth to protest but the look on Louis' face stops him. "Good night Zayner," he says softly. "I love you so fucking much." He attempts a smiles then, and it's shaky but Zayn thinks he can trace the shape of the one that's reserved especially for him so Zayn allows himself to relax, exhaustion settling in his limbs.
--
"Zayn. Zayn. C'mon love, wake up." Zayn wakes with a start, harsh words and drunken breath on the edge of his consciousness. He's breathing heavily and his ribs ache.
"Lou-?" he gasps out.
"You were having a bad dream," Louis says and his voice is strange and muffled. Zayn can't make out his face so he reaches out blindly. Louis' cheeks are damp with tears. Zayn fights to push away the remnants of his dreams (fists, shouting, rage).
"What's wrong Louis?" Zayn asks cautiously, when he's sure his voice will be steady.
"I - nothing. You were screaming. Lottie came and got me." Oh. Fuck.
"I'm so sorry Louis. I didn't mean -"
"Stop. Just. Let me -" he settles into bed besides Zayn, pulling him close. Zayn sighs into Louis' neck, grateful, clutching at Louis' thin t-shirt. His heartbeat is steady and close to his ear and Zayn buries himself in it, shutting out the bad dreams.
"I should be the one apologizing," Louis says suddenly, voice quiet and so young and Zayn thinks of knee scrapes and playground fights. Louis runs his fingers over Zayn's oldest scar, now surrounded by ugly bruises and new marks. Zayn shivers. "I should have been there sooner, I should have stopped him a year ago. I -" he breaks off now and he's sobbing suddenly, entire body trembling. Zayn clutches at him. "Fuck. Please don't go back to him," he says between shudders, "I know I have no right. But, please, Zayn. Please. I can't lose you. I can't. Just -"
Zayn shifts to pull Louis closer, his own eyes stinging with tears.
"You haven't lost me, Louis. I'm right here. Shhh. It's going to be alright." He clutches Louis tightly, pressing bruises into his forearms, forcing Louis to feel him. It's dark and silent except for Louis and there's snot on Zayn's neck and he feels sixteen again, putting Louis back together after his dad's left him, whispering promises into his hair. "I'm sorry I worried you, it's nothing. I'm fine. M'not going anywhere, ok? I'm right here," he says fiercely, willing Louis to believe him, to breathe.
They fall asleep like that, Louis curled around Zayn, a hand lying protectively on his chest. It's an early kind of darkness and it carries with it whispers of bad dreams and lost causes but Louis' presence keeps them at bay and Zayn's rest is dreamless.
--
He's stretched out on the couch with his leg up, watching what ever the girls want to watch, and they giggle around him, tugging at each others' hair. Daylight streams through the window and things are both real and unreal at this time of morning.
Suddenly his phone rings. Lottie turns around instinctively to see that his face has become pale and his hands are trembling.
"Lou? " She calls out. Louis's instantly there and Zayn looks up at him, holds out the phone. Louis' eyes widen but he looks determined and he gestures for the girls to clear out before settling at the edge of the couch.
"Answer it, Zayn," Louis says softly, pushing the phone back towards him. Cartoons play in the background, but everything seems strangely muffled. Zayn looks up at Louis.
"What?! I can't," he chokes out incredulously. "I -"
"You can," Louis says firmly. "Come on. I'm right here." Zayn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then hits accept.
"Hello?" he asks cautiously, voice strangled.
"Babe," breathes George's sweet voice over the line, and Zayn relaxes into it slightly. "There you are. Thank God you're ok."
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn says softly, "I'm fine, George, I'm alright."
"I've been so worried, babe," George says and his voice is soothing but Louis' hand is warm against his hip and Zayn won't allow himself to get swept away. Not again. He takes a deep breath.
"You - you haven't called. You weren't there when I woke up."
"I know, I - I thought you might tell somebody what happened. I panicked baby! But I'm calling now. I couldn't resist you. Because I love you. Come home."
"You - you hurt me," Zayn' s voice is barely above a whisper and there are tears streaming down his cheeks now but he ignores them.
"Babe, it won't happen again." George's voice is only slightly more forceful but Zayn winces away from it, tries to choke back a sob.
"Shh," Louis whispers, clutching his arm tightly. "I'm right here, Zayner. Right here."
"You said that last time," Zayn says into the phone, voice stronger. He runs his finger over the old scar on his side unconsciously. Louis covers that hand with his own, lips tilted up in a small encouraging smile and Zayn remembers his tear stained face, red rimmed eyes, and suddenly this becomes so much easier.
"You said that last time, and the time before that. I can't do this anymore."
"You little whore," George breathes into the phone. Louis leans into Zayn's neck and Zayn can feel his eyelashes flutter against sensitive skin. "No one will ever love you like I do."
Zayn laughs then, humorlessly and Louis turns his face in, kisses Zayn's neck.
"That's the thing. I don't want anyone to love me like this," Zayn says. "Goodbye George."
He clicks the phone off and throws it aside carelessly, muscles tight and strung out, numb.
(First - the painting was still there. George had kissed him underneath it once, soft and sweet. Then - a press of Harry's hand in his, a flicker of Liam and Niall, close and comfortable.)
Louis begins to rub circles into his skin, pressing into him security, warmth, breath, and Zayn relents, relaxes into his touch slowly, body melting as the adrenaline leaves him, exhausted and weak. Without a word, Louis hooks his arm under the crook of Zayn's knees and the back of neck and lifts him up, begins to carry him to bed.
"Louis," Zayn protests, pressing his blushing face into Louis' chest. "What are you - ?"
"C'mon. Sleepy," Louis just mumbles, even though the morning sun is strong and high in the sky and they've just eaten breakfast.
They tumble into bed together and Zayn groans, attempts to slide clumsily away from Louis because it's too warm. Louis gets the idea, moves aside and settles in, smiling lazily down at Zayn.
"Do you mind getting my pain meds?" Zayn asks a bit sheepishly. Louis rolls his eyes.
"Prick," he says, with little bite, getting up heavily to fetch water and the pills.
--
Zayn wakes up alone and he stretches slightly, ribs feeling sore and rusty. He lies in bed, tracing patterns into the white ceiling with his eyes, wondering where he left his crutches and whether he'll be able to get up without them. The thought both scares and frustrates him and for the first time he feels anger pulsing through him, clogging his lungs and pressing on his chest. He thinks it must be healthy.
Lottie meanders in about five minutes later, seemingly as attuned to Zayn as Louis is. She carries his crutches with her and helps him to get out of bed slowly, her eyebrows creased in a small frown.
"Louis's gone out," she explains, holding the door open for him as he hobbles into the kitchen.
He sits at the table as Jay fixes tea and Lottie pushes herself up onto the counter, swinging her legs about, chattering with her mother. When Jay sits down at the table, pushing his cup in front of him, she asks about Harry, and Zayn talks. Tells her about his curls and his beautiful voice and the way he pushes himself, and that Louis and him are working together on this show, yeah? He tries to explain the way they pull at each other, sharing energy and space and air, and she listens. Nods and smiles in the right places. But Zayn's not quite sure she understands, not quite sure he understands.
--
He calls his own mum, sitting on the couch, cradling the phone in his hand. He gives her the news on Jay and the girls, doesn't tell her why he's here, doesn't want her to worry. When she asks about George he only tells her that they need to work some things out, throws out words like distance and goals and the future. She sounds sad, but it's disconnected. She never really knew what they had had.
He breathes into the phone, tells her he misses her, asks about his sisters and he can hear her sweet smile through the phone. She laughs when she tells him that when she saw Jay's number on the caller ID and heard his voice come down the line it felt like he was back at school again, calling for help on a homework assignment. Zayn grips the phone tighter.
--
Louis shows up about an hour later with Zayn's suitcase and bag and broken laptop and Zayn just stares at him, eyes wide.
"You need your passport for tomorrow," Louis explains. "He wasn't home. Didn't look like he'd been home for awhile," he adds, because Zayn's asking with his eyes, even as he tries to bite his tongue.
--
The car ride to the airport is gloomy and Zayn feels restless. He slept well the night before, a combination of the strength of his pain meds and Louis' warm body next to his, and energy flows out through his thrumming fingers. He begins to sing to the radio, voice echoing in the still car, and the younger girls giggle and a small content noise escapes Lottie's lips. Jay turns around from the front seat to smile at Zayn, and Louis turns the radio up this time. Soon the girls want to hear their favorite songs so Louis shuts off the music and adds his own voice to the mix, unique timbre rising in the small space and pulling a reluctant chuckle from his mum. Zayn sings above him, making up nonsense words when he doesn't know the lyrics and sending the girls into fits of laughter.
Louis meets his eyes in the rearview mirror and grins at him.
--
Jay cries into Louis' shoulder, looking small in his arms, and Louis whispers soothingly into her hair and tugs at her waist. The girls gather around them and Zayn leans on his crutches and watches them, exhausted already from the check-in procedures, pain meds a comforting weight in his pocket. Louis' mum extricates herself from the group to envelop him in a tight hug.
"Take care of yourself, alright Zayn?" she whispers into his ear, sniffling slightly, pulling away so he can breathe again and clutch at his sore ribs. Lottie looks up at him forlornly and he pulls her into himself.
"Gonna miss you, Lots," he says, and she nods into his shoulder but remains quiet. Louis grips the back of his neck tightly and Zayn nods at him and together they make their way to the gate, slow and steady.
--
Louis is quiet throughout the flight, his usual energy dimmer somehow, and Zayn keeps a close watch on him through take off, eyes closed lightly, a small amount of tension traceable in the hands in his lap. When the fasten seat belt sign goes out, Zayn lifts the armrest so he can tug Louis closer to him and slip his arm around him.
"I'm going to miss them," he says after a moment. Louis nods, looks up.
"Yeah. Me too. I just - Harry, you know?"
Zayn smiles a soft smile and nods.
"Can't believe you told your mum about him," Zayn says, almost hesitantly.
"Me neither," Louis says, and his eyes are wide and earnest and Zayn thinks that maybe he doesn't understand it either. "I just feel - He's. Well, I just - dunno if I'm leaving home or going back."
Zayn thinks about the family they're coming back to and his smile widens and Louis' smiling now too. They fall asleep like that, Zayn's dreams filled with images of blonde hair, and dimples and crinkly brown eyed smiles.
--
author snuffleslove
pairing zayn/liam, harry/louis, girl!niall
word count 60k
rating pg-13 (now)
warnings slash, swearing, drugs, genderswap, abuse, domestic violence, dub-con
summary zayn and louis take on columbia (university!au)
a/n AU where the boys are international students at columbia university and new york city is taken by storm.
Louis sleeps through the whole flight, head resting on Zayn's shoulder, mouth open, but Zayn remains awake, restless with anticipation.
--
At the airport they hail two separate cabs and then they embrace tightly.
"I am just a phone call away," Louis says fiercely and Zayn can only shake his head, torn between anger and gratitude.
--
His hands itch in the cab and he grabs his pack of cigarettes from his bag, rolling down the window. His hands shake as he lights up, takes a drag. He's nervous. Nervous excited mostly. But also just, nervous.
--
They stand there staring at each other for a moment before George lets him into the house silently. He's taller than Zayn remembers somehow and he hasn't shaved so there's dark stubble lining his wide jaw.
"You're just as beautiful as I remember you," George says after a moment, gripping Zayn's face and pulling him close. Zayn blushes, smiles shyly. "Have you been behaving yourself?" there's a growl underneath his words so Zayn hurriedly answers.
"Yeah, of course, love," George nods gruffly and kisses him hard, and Zayn can't help himself, he moans into the kiss, leaning into it, hands scrambling for George's waist.
"Still desperate for it, aren't you babe," George murmurs into Zayn's mouth and Zayn nods because it's true, he is. He's being lowered to the floor right then and there and George is kissing his neck, biting at his collarbone roughly and Zayn moans, arches into the touch.
"Please," he whines, and George laughs at him.
"You want my cock babe? You'll get it, don't worry."
Zayn moans, tries to slow things down because he hasn't done this in months but George is relentless. He doesn't bother removing Zayn's shirt, just unbuckles his trousers and yanks them down, enough so that Zayn can fold his legs up. He gets his own trousers undone, grabbing a condom from his back pocket and Zayn tries to smirk at his preparedness but George is spitting on his finger and entering him quickly with it and Zayn cries out from equal parts pleasure and pain.
A second finger is being added and he feels the scissoring, tries to relax, to let it happen.
"George, love, I haven't done this - Can we -" he pants but George is too focused on lining his cock up to his entrance, pushing in without pause. There's a burn and tears spring to Zayn's eyes but he blinks them away because George is just desperate, desperate for him and that means something doesn't it.
His cock has softened a bit so he begins to stroke himself quickly, knowing George doesn't like it when Zayn's soft while they're making love. It starts to feel good after a bit, and George is reaching that spot right there and he moans his name.
After George comes he pulls out slowly, ties off the condom and throws it to the side somewhere and then lays down heavily next to Zayn. Zayn closes his eyes and strokes himself, focusing on George's proximity and the way his breath hitches as he watches. He comes silently all over his t-shirt.
"Welcome back," George smirks, getting up slowly and helping Zayn up after him. "Grab the condom will you?"
--
Zayn wakes up to a beep from his cell phone. The bed is empty and cold and he rubs his eyes and checks the time. Ten thirty am. There's a text from Louis and a picture shows up on his phone of him and his four sisters. Zayn gazes fondly at it.
"we all miss u here. esp Lottie. how're u?"
"m'fine. tell her i love her. miss u too. stay out of trouble." he responds quickly. Then he gets out of bed, stretching in the soft morning glow.
--
George is in the living room watching telly and when Zayn enters he whips his head back and grins at him wolfishly.
"Good you're up. 'Ve got to show you something." He leads Zayn by the elbow down a long hallway and finally turns to stand in front of a closed door, a huge grin spreading across his face.
"Brace yourself, babe, this is gonna blow you away." He opens the door with a flourish and Zayn lets out a small gasp, because jesus it really is mind blowing. Lined from wall to wall of the huge room are tables of potted marijuana plants. The room is dank and smells like dirt and weed and Zayn almost chokes.
"Best product for miles, I'm telling you," George says proudly. "We've got a whole network working deals now. I get the biggest cut obviously and it makes a good fucking business. Never thought I'd be able to expand like this did you?" George smirks.
"This is brilliant, love," Zayn breathes, trying not let on that he's nervous. George cups Zayn's face.
"When are you coming back home for good baby? I need you for this."
Zayn's body warms wonderfully and he gives George a soft smile.
"Soon. Two years and I'll be done."
"Fuck that," George says, scowling. "Stuck up bastards want to tell you you need to get an education but let me tell you something, I'm going to make more money than you ever will and I'll be damned if I ever step foot inside a college."
Zayn flushes, embarrassed. He's probably right, anyway.
"I'm just going to make mum happy," Zayn says quietly. "Then I'll be back here for good, doing whatever you need me to do, alright love?"
"Yeah. You make your sodding mum happy. And then you better fucking come back," his hand grips Zayn's wrist painfully tight and Zayn tries not to wince. "I better not hear that you've taken up with some dirty slut from the States."
"Of-of course not, George, baby, I would never -" he stammers, heart in his throat. It seems to calm George and he nods, loosening his grip on Zayn's wrist and bringing it to his lips to kiss away the bruise gently. Zayn shuts his eyes in relief.
"I'm sorry babe," George says against his skin. "I just want you here with me. I'm sorry if I hurt you." He tilts Zayn's chin up and kisses him smoothly. "Come on, I want you to experience the quality of this stuff."
--
They spend the day in bed, kissing sweet smoke into each other's mouths.
--
Zayn wakes up before George the next morning and quietly disentangles himself from the his arms and pads silently into the kitchen. He busies himself checking the fridge and cupboards, trying to turn the meager contents of George's pantry into breakfast. He hums to himself softly, unable to erase the touch of a smile that flits across his lips from time to time.
At ten thirty am his phone goes off and Zayn rolls his eyes but reaches for it anyway. Louis's sent him a picture of him and his mum and they're holding out a plate of pancakes.
"mum made ur favo this morning. she misses u too keeps going on n on abt the last drawing u did of her howre u x"
Zayn's smiles despite himself and types out a quick reply (im fine ik ur worrying STOP) before hurrying to catch the eggs before they burn.
When George wakes up he musses Zayn's hair and tells him he doesn't know how he survives without him and Zayn feels cherished.
--
In the evening George tells him he has to step out to make a delivery. Zayn wants to go with him but George won't let him, claims it's for his protection, so Zayn just sits on the bed dully as he watches George get ready to go.
--
When George comes back he's plastered and horny. They fuck hard and fast and in silence except for Zayn's occasional whimpers and George's low, heavy grunts.
--
They settle into a quiet pattern for a few days. Zayn wakes up early to make breakfast for George, but it goes cold by the time he manages to drag himself out of bed. Then there's a text from Louis at ten thirty on the dot that Zayn cannot be cruel enough to ignore.
They spend the day lazing about in the quiet, smoking or sleeping, and Zayn thinks the silence is comforting and familiar and he thinks this is what it's like to be in love.
George leaves in the evenings and Zayn wanders around the house aimlessly, answering emails from Niall or catching up on coursework. He calls his mum a lot, apologizing for being so close and yet so far away and it's good to hear her voice, still a soft strength in his ear even though they're miles apart.
George comes back drunk and sometimes they fuck and sometimes he passes out from exhaustion and Zayn will cuddle up next to him, pushing in as close as he can and breathing in his scent made sharp by the liquor on his breath.
--
The painting is still where Zayn remembers it to be and he stands under it once when the house is empty and quiet, wrapping his arms around himself and remembering the feel of George's chapped lips pressing against his own.
--
Zayn settles comfortably at the desk in their bedroom and turns up the volume on his laptop. It's eleven pm here so it's only five pm in the states but Zayn thinks Harry, Niall and Liam are already drunk. He can't help but grin at them, glad to see their faces, distorted as they are by the skype camera. They wave at him and their lips are moving but Zayn can't make out what they're saying so he just smiles like a loon and nods his head. Niall and Liam disappear off the screen and Harry is left just looking at him and smiling. He turns his hair down and musses it up and then flips it back and Zayn feels a tightening in his chest when he realizes how much he's missed that small gesture.
"u cant hear us cn u?" Harry types into the bottom part of the screen. Zayn shakes his head. "niall nd liam are rly drunk. we all miss u a lot. is everything OK over there?" Zayn nods again and smiles. He's in the middle of typing something when he hears the front door slam so he backspaces and retypes.
"george just came in. let me see if he wants to meet u guys."
When George comes into the room though, he's drunker than usual and Zayn knows instinctively that it's a bad idea. He swallows thickly and shuts his laptop.
"Hey babe," he says. "How was it?"
"Who was that?" George asks, tone sharp and on edge.
"What? No one," Zayn responds, keeping his voice calm.
"You're lying. I saw a face. Is that your fuck buddy from school babe?" George sneers, face contorted, and the endearment sounds dirty in his mouth. Zayn blanches. "You tryna skype with your fuck buddy when I leave the house? You give him a show from my bed?" George's voice sounds low and dangerous and Zayn fights to keep the fear at bay. Distant, foggy memories threaten to overcome him but he pushes them back, takes a deep breath.
"Of course not, my love, you're my only, you know that."
George growls at him.
"You piece of shit." He takes Zayn's laptop and flings it to the floor and Zayn is out of his chair and backing into a corner. He just needs to calm him down and then everything will be ok again. But George's eyes are bloodshot and as he steps closer Zayn sees the vein popping from his neck. "Slut. You think I don't know what you get up to when I'm not there? How many cocks have you sucked?"
"George, please," Zayn whispers. "You're wrong -" The skin on skin contact makes an obscene noise and Zayn winces, tears springing to his eyes as he reaches out to touch his reddening cheek.
"Don't fucking tell me I'm wrong. You think you're better than me because you go to school with all those pretty boy cock suckers? You're nothing but a whore Zayn and I think..." he trails off, his gaze malicious and predatory. But it's just the alcohol, it's just the alcohol. "And I think you need to be reminded about exactly whose whore you are." Zayn's chest constricts and he can't breathe. No, not again, please.
"No, George, please. I know, I swear," Zayn begs.
"Say it." Zayn swallows. Tears run silently down his cheeks and his mouth moves but no sounds comes out. It's going to be Okay. It'll be over soon. George hits him hard, straight in the stomach and Zayn sputters, vision blurring, but he doesn't cry out. "Say it."
"I'm your whore," Zayn whispers. George raises his hand once more and Zayn closes his eyes, whimpering as he tries to shut out the blows. It'll go away. It'll go away and things will go back to normal he's just angry.
"Louder," George demands, and Zayn repeats the ugly words in between cries, crumpling in on himself, a sharp pain shooting up his right leg. George is chanting againagainagain and kicking at him in time to the words, laughing when Zayn sobs out, begs him to stop, pleadspromiseswhimpers but George's voice is cruel and unforgiving and his callous laughter rings out in the small room.
"You filthy fucking bitch," George is saying and he's delivering blow after blow on Zayn's curled up form and then the world goes cold.
--
Zayn wakes up and immediately pulls back into himself, away from the person in the corner of his vision.
"Jesus," Louis says, voice stifled and cracked. He looks like he's just been slapped."It's me Zayn. It's Louis. I'm not -" he chokes, "Fuck," he wipes at his face angrily. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Lou?" Zayn's throat is sore and and his voice sounds foreign to him and he's beginning to notice that everything hurts. He closes his eyes briefly and he can suddenly feel the blows on him again, see George's disgusted face, smell the booze. He shudders, opens his eyes to focus on Louis' face. Louis' eyes are red and his hair is matted and he looks exhausted and miserable. "What happened?" he asks with some effort. "Where am I?"
"You're in a hospital," Louis whispers. "I -" He can't go on and he wipes his face with a hand in frustration.
"It's alright, Lou," Zayn says soothingly. He reaches out an unsteady hand to cover Louis' where it rests on the hospital bed. "I'm alright."
"I'm sorry, I'm supposed to be -" he shakes his head, anger at himself visible beneath the tear stained lines of his face and Zayn is suddenly so sorry to have put him through this. He's hurting everyone around him and it makes him sick. "I found you," Louis says when he can speak again. "When you didn't answer my text this morning I - Well, I got worried. And when I found you I - I've never seen it that bad, I - Jesus Zayn, I thought you were dead." There are silent tears streaming down his face now and it makes Zayn's stomach turn and his eyes blur. He doesn't know how to make this better.
"Come here," Zayn decides on finally. "It's alright, Louis. I'm right here. Come here. Hold me." He thinks he's doing alright because Louis sniffles, offers him a watery smile before climbing gently into the narrow hospital bed and fitting his arm around him. Zayn controls his wince because he hurts but it feels good to have Louis close. Makes him brave enough to ask the questions he's afraid to know the answers to.
"How bad?" he asks into Louis' chest.
"It's not so bad," Louis' voice is steadier now and Zayn is grateful. "Docs were worried because you were out cold for so long but they think that could have been more of a mental reason than a physical one -"
"How long?" Zayn interrupts.
"About 14 hours? It's around 3 in the afternoon now."
"And George?" Zayn's voice is barely audible to his own ears but he can feel Louis tense around him.
"He - wasn't there - when I got there," Louis manages to keep his tone neutral but Zayn knows what he's thinking anyway. "What happened Zayn?" Zayn shuts his eyes, shakes his head. It's so embarrassing. Such a stupid mistake. Louis nuzzles into his hair, kissing his forehead and Zayn sighs.
"So, when can I go home?" Zayn asks, voice small.
"I'm not sure, Zayner, I'm sorry. The nurse said you have a few bruised ribs and a sprained ankle so you're going to need crutches and -" he breaks off. "Fuck Zayn, please," and the desperation is back in Louis' voice. "Please Zayner, I'm begging you. Don't go back to him. Not after this. You're in the hospital because of him. He hurt you so badly I found you passed out on the floor of your bedroom and. That's not love, Zayn." He cups Zayn's chin, forcing him to look at him. Zayn tries to look away but he can't, he's drawn by something in Louis' eyes that pins him helplessly in his stare.
"He's only human. He - he has anger issues," Zayn mumbles but even he can hear that his voice is half hearted and when did that change?
"He just left you there Zayn. Even when he had cooled down he just. Zayn. That's not love." Zayn screws his eyes shut against the words but they press into him anyway, reverberating in his mind, creating a chasm there. And it's more painful than any physical blow to feel this kind of change, to have it sweep over you and knock the air out of you all at once because maybe Louis's right.
There's a shift in his vision suddenly, and the strength of his arms, the fear of his drunken breath, the alarm from his raised voice comes flooding to Zayn and he tries to push it all away, tries to bring back the warmth of a shared joint or the ease of a comfortable silence because this is all he knows, all he's ever known. But Louis' words play on repeat that'snotlovethat'snotlove and Louis' strong arms - arms that he's never afraid of - anchor him.
Maybe it isn't love.
Zayn trembles in those arms and Louis holds on tighter, murmuring into his hair and stroking his bruised arms lightly. His ribs ache dully but it's a good pain, a pain that means he's still here, a pain that maybe means he can move on.
--
Zayn wakes up to pain, building low in his stomach and taking his breath away. He stifles a groan, careful to keep still so as not to wake Louis, who is still curled up at his side, breathing steady. He grips the side of the bed until his knuckles turn white, trying to take deep breaths. Louis stirs but doesn't wake and Zayn bites his lip, tries to keep from trembling, praying it'll subside quickly.
Just when he decides he can't take it anymore a nurse walks in. She takes one look at his pale, strickened face and hurries to his side, fumbling to change the morphine bag. Louis does wake now, blinking away sleep and sitting up slightly, watching the nurse's movements sleepily.
"You should have rang for one of us," she chides gently, adjusting his IV, "Your body is too weak to handle that amount of pain right now, alright honey?" Zayn feels Louis' entire body tense next to him and he forces himself to nod sheepishly.
"I can see about getting an extra cot in here for you if you'd like," she says to Louis.
"I'm fine," he replies, and his voice is strained and curt. She just nods and Zayn imagines she's dealt with much worse.
"You should go home," Zayn says when she leaves and the pain has subsided enough for him to breathe easily. The sun is setting and its last rays stream in through the small window. Zayn's nose is numbed by the smell of antiseptic. He turns to his best friend, looking up at him from where his head is lying on his chest.
"I'm good here," Louis replies shortly, keeping his eyes closed. "We'll go home together tomorrow."
"Lou - " Zayn protests weakly. Louis opens his eyes to stare hard at Zayn.
"Yes?" he prompts, eyebrows raised.
"I have - All my stuff is at George's."
"Buy new stuff," Louis says firmly, and closes his eyes against anything else Zayn wants to say.
--
In the end, Louis does convince him to stay at his mom's place for the few days they have left before their flight. It's not a difficult decision, not when Louis' looking at him like that. Zayn's heart is in his throat as he stares up at Louis' closed off face. Louis watches as Zayn's doctors run a few tests, give him instructions for pain medication and a referral for a psych consult, and his expression is unreadable, shoulders set. Zayn tries to make a joke out of it after they leave, discharge papers signed, but Louis doesn't laugh, doesn't say anything.
--
He's quiet in the car too. The drive is long and fuzzy music plays on the radio and Zayn tries to believe it's like the road trips they used to take together when they were younger, feet up on the dashboard, windows rolled down, but there's a pair of crutches lying in the backseat and two new bruises color Zayn's arm and he's so tired.
"Have you spoken to any of the others?" Zayn asks quietly, voice barely audible over the gentle thrum of the engine. Niall might worry because he hasn't written to her in a few days. Louis shrugs, hands gripping the steering wheel firmly.
"Spoke to Niall," he says noncommitally. Zayn nods in relief.
"And Harry? How is he?" Louis shrugs again, mouth forming a thin line.
"I'm sure he's fine," Louis answers finally.
"Are you guys -"
"We're fine," Louis cuts him off, voice crisp. Zayn wants desperately to say more. Wants Louis to yell and scream and hit him like George does because this wall is so much worse. He hesitates, but can't resist.
"And - and Li?"
"Liam's fine, Zayn."
Zayn nods, shrinks back into his chair, leaving Louis alone with his thoughts.
Instead he passes time trying to harmonize to the sounds on the stereo, until Louis turns it off without a word. Zayn swallows and closes his eyes but doesn't try to break the heavy silence.
--
Louis opens the car door for him and helps him to stand, passing him his crutches. He doesn't return Zayn's smile. But Jay is there, pressing a kiss to his forehead and clutching his shoulders gently, and in the late afternoon sun she looks beautiful and just as Zayn remembers her.
"We're so glad to have you Zayn," she says softly. He searches her eyes for pity but there is none. Either Louis hasn't given her details, or she's a great actor. He's thankful. "The girls are thrilled," she says, "and maybe you can tell me more about this Harry Styles." Zayn's eyes widen. He's seen Louis through several relationships, but none of them have ever been brought to Jay's attention. He thinks of Harry's soft smile and wonders if this is it for Louis. He can hear his friend groan in the background but he smiles at Jay as he hobbles up the steps, clumsy with the crutches.
"He's brilliant, Jay, you'd love him. He's also very fit," Zayn says with as much cheek as he can muster and Jay tuts a little, laughing. She holds open the front door for him and he barely makes it through before the girls are there. The twins and Felicite curl themselves around him carefully and he wishes he could pick them up and throw them over his shoulder like he used to. He leans down to gather them close, stumbles a bit, but Louis' hand is on his shoulder, steadying him. Zayn looks up at him, but his face is masked and Zayn can feel a lump in his throat.
"It's so good to see you girls," he says warmly, trying to focus on the way they press against him, feel like home. Lottie hangs back, waits her turn and when he looks up at her she moves forward, embracing him lightly.
"Missed you," she whispers into his ear and he smiles, feeling her soft hair slide between his fingers. She smells like days on the porch and revising on Louis' kitchen table and Zayn breathes her in greedily. He pulls back to examine her thoroughly.
"God, you're beautiful Lots," he says, grinning at her. "Better keep an eye on this one, Lou." Louis just nods though, and Zayn turns back to Lottie in time to catch her pretty blush and the careless roll of her eyes.
"Come on, girls, let's let him through," Jay says. "Would you like anything to eat Zayn?" Zayn's hungry but the distance Louis's putting between them cuts through him and he can't. Not for a minute longer.
"Thanks, Jay, I know you've gone through a lot of trouble, but I think I'm going to pass. I'm exhausted," he says apologetically. Jay nods.
"You're fine, honey. Louis why don't you show him to the guest room? That way you won't have to climb stairs."
"What happened to you, Zayner?" Phoebe interrupts, green eyes doelike and innocent. Zayn flushes.
"I -"
"He just tripped and fell, Phoebs," Louis cuts in and Zayn shoots him a grateful look. "He's going to be all better soon." She nods and smiles before pulling at her sister's hand.
--
"There's extra blankets in the cabinet if you need them and mum pulled out a few of my clothes for you to use," Louis says. Zayn's never slept here; when they were younger they'd always share Louis' bed, and this place feels foreign, leaves a weird taste on his tongue. Louis' stance is tense and Zayn wants to cry. Instead he attempts to tug off his shirt, a soft cry of pain escaping his lips when he tries to move his arms up.
"Here, let me -" Louis moves closer, removes his shirt for him gently, hands fluttering across the rough edges of Zayn's bandages.
"Do you want - " he asks, gesturing at Zayn's trousers. Zayn nods, flushing. He feels like a child and Louis won't fucking look at him. He just unties the drawstring, kneeling to pull them down and over Zayn's cast. When he stands again he's still not meeting Zayn's eye.
"Sleep well," he mumbles, turns to leave, movements stiff. A flood of desperation runs hot through Zayn's blood.
"Louis," Zayn breathes. He tries to get up, but fails, sinking heavily onto the bed. Louis turns slightly anyway, hand on the doorknob, knuckles white. "Please. I'm sorry for this mess, I shouldn't have come here. Please Lou, look at me." Louis turns completely then and Zayn sees that his eyes are shining with tears.
"Don't - " he chokes out. "Don't apolo - just. Fuck. I'm not mad Zayn. I just. I can't get that image out of my head. Of you lying there - shit," he closes his eyes and there are dips in his face that were never there before and Zayn's chest tightens because Louis is schoolyard pranks and first kiss stories and staying out late and Zayn has never seen him so tired. "I almost lost you," he continues in a small voice. Zayn notices a small tremble in his hands. "I can't lose you, Zayn."
Zayn stretches out his hands to him but Louis shakes his head. "I'll be alright. and you're exhausted. Get some sleep, yeah? You shouldn't have to take care of me." Zayn opens his mouth to protest but the look on Louis' face stops him. "Good night Zayner," he says softly. "I love you so fucking much." He attempts a smiles then, and it's shaky but Zayn thinks he can trace the shape of the one that's reserved especially for him so Zayn allows himself to relax, exhaustion settling in his limbs.
--
"Zayn. Zayn. C'mon love, wake up." Zayn wakes with a start, harsh words and drunken breath on the edge of his consciousness. He's breathing heavily and his ribs ache.
"Lou-?" he gasps out.
"You were having a bad dream," Louis says and his voice is strange and muffled. Zayn can't make out his face so he reaches out blindly. Louis' cheeks are damp with tears. Zayn fights to push away the remnants of his dreams (fists, shouting, rage).
"What's wrong Louis?" Zayn asks cautiously, when he's sure his voice will be steady.
"I - nothing. You were screaming. Lottie came and got me." Oh. Fuck.
"I'm so sorry Louis. I didn't mean -"
"Stop. Just. Let me -" he settles into bed besides Zayn, pulling him close. Zayn sighs into Louis' neck, grateful, clutching at Louis' thin t-shirt. His heartbeat is steady and close to his ear and Zayn buries himself in it, shutting out the bad dreams.
"I should be the one apologizing," Louis says suddenly, voice quiet and so young and Zayn thinks of knee scrapes and playground fights. Louis runs his fingers over Zayn's oldest scar, now surrounded by ugly bruises and new marks. Zayn shivers. "I should have been there sooner, I should have stopped him a year ago. I -" he breaks off now and he's sobbing suddenly, entire body trembling. Zayn clutches at him. "Fuck. Please don't go back to him," he says between shudders, "I know I have no right. But, please, Zayn. Please. I can't lose you. I can't. Just -"
Zayn shifts to pull Louis closer, his own eyes stinging with tears.
"You haven't lost me, Louis. I'm right here. Shhh. It's going to be alright." He clutches Louis tightly, pressing bruises into his forearms, forcing Louis to feel him. It's dark and silent except for Louis and there's snot on Zayn's neck and he feels sixteen again, putting Louis back together after his dad's left him, whispering promises into his hair. "I'm sorry I worried you, it's nothing. I'm fine. M'not going anywhere, ok? I'm right here," he says fiercely, willing Louis to believe him, to breathe.
They fall asleep like that, Louis curled around Zayn, a hand lying protectively on his chest. It's an early kind of darkness and it carries with it whispers of bad dreams and lost causes but Louis' presence keeps them at bay and Zayn's rest is dreamless.
--
He's stretched out on the couch with his leg up, watching what ever the girls want to watch, and they giggle around him, tugging at each others' hair. Daylight streams through the window and things are both real and unreal at this time of morning.
Suddenly his phone rings. Lottie turns around instinctively to see that his face has become pale and his hands are trembling.
"Lou? " She calls out. Louis's instantly there and Zayn looks up at him, holds out the phone. Louis' eyes widen but he looks determined and he gestures for the girls to clear out before settling at the edge of the couch.
"Answer it, Zayn," Louis says softly, pushing the phone back towards him. Cartoons play in the background, but everything seems strangely muffled. Zayn looks up at Louis.
"What?! I can't," he chokes out incredulously. "I -"
"You can," Louis says firmly. "Come on. I'm right here." Zayn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then hits accept.
"Hello?" he asks cautiously, voice strangled.
"Babe," breathes George's sweet voice over the line, and Zayn relaxes into it slightly. "There you are. Thank God you're ok."
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn says softly, "I'm fine, George, I'm alright."
"I've been so worried, babe," George says and his voice is soothing but Louis' hand is warm against his hip and Zayn won't allow himself to get swept away. Not again. He takes a deep breath.
"You - you haven't called. You weren't there when I woke up."
"I know, I - I thought you might tell somebody what happened. I panicked baby! But I'm calling now. I couldn't resist you. Because I love you. Come home."
"You - you hurt me," Zayn' s voice is barely above a whisper and there are tears streaming down his cheeks now but he ignores them.
"Babe, it won't happen again." George's voice is only slightly more forceful but Zayn winces away from it, tries to choke back a sob.
"Shh," Louis whispers, clutching his arm tightly. "I'm right here, Zayner. Right here."
"You said that last time," Zayn says into the phone, voice stronger. He runs his finger over the old scar on his side unconsciously. Louis covers that hand with his own, lips tilted up in a small encouraging smile and Zayn remembers his tear stained face, red rimmed eyes, and suddenly this becomes so much easier.
"You said that last time, and the time before that. I can't do this anymore."
"You little whore," George breathes into the phone. Louis leans into Zayn's neck and Zayn can feel his eyelashes flutter against sensitive skin. "No one will ever love you like I do."
Zayn laughs then, humorlessly and Louis turns his face in, kisses Zayn's neck.
"That's the thing. I don't want anyone to love me like this," Zayn says. "Goodbye George."
He clicks the phone off and throws it aside carelessly, muscles tight and strung out, numb.
(First - the painting was still there. George had kissed him underneath it once, soft and sweet. Then - a press of Harry's hand in his, a flicker of Liam and Niall, close and comfortable.)
Louis begins to rub circles into his skin, pressing into him security, warmth, breath, and Zayn relents, relaxes into his touch slowly, body melting as the adrenaline leaves him, exhausted and weak. Without a word, Louis hooks his arm under the crook of Zayn's knees and the back of neck and lifts him up, begins to carry him to bed.
"Louis," Zayn protests, pressing his blushing face into Louis' chest. "What are you - ?"
"C'mon. Sleepy," Louis just mumbles, even though the morning sun is strong and high in the sky and they've just eaten breakfast.
They tumble into bed together and Zayn groans, attempts to slide clumsily away from Louis because it's too warm. Louis gets the idea, moves aside and settles in, smiling lazily down at Zayn.
"Do you mind getting my pain meds?" Zayn asks a bit sheepishly. Louis rolls his eyes.
"Prick," he says, with little bite, getting up heavily to fetch water and the pills.
--
Zayn wakes up alone and he stretches slightly, ribs feeling sore and rusty. He lies in bed, tracing patterns into the white ceiling with his eyes, wondering where he left his crutches and whether he'll be able to get up without them. The thought both scares and frustrates him and for the first time he feels anger pulsing through him, clogging his lungs and pressing on his chest. He thinks it must be healthy.
Lottie meanders in about five minutes later, seemingly as attuned to Zayn as Louis is. She carries his crutches with her and helps him to get out of bed slowly, her eyebrows creased in a small frown.
"Louis's gone out," she explains, holding the door open for him as he hobbles into the kitchen.
He sits at the table as Jay fixes tea and Lottie pushes herself up onto the counter, swinging her legs about, chattering with her mother. When Jay sits down at the table, pushing his cup in front of him, she asks about Harry, and Zayn talks. Tells her about his curls and his beautiful voice and the way he pushes himself, and that Louis and him are working together on this show, yeah? He tries to explain the way they pull at each other, sharing energy and space and air, and she listens. Nods and smiles in the right places. But Zayn's not quite sure she understands, not quite sure he understands.
--
He calls his own mum, sitting on the couch, cradling the phone in his hand. He gives her the news on Jay and the girls, doesn't tell her why he's here, doesn't want her to worry. When she asks about George he only tells her that they need to work some things out, throws out words like distance and goals and the future. She sounds sad, but it's disconnected. She never really knew what they had had.
He breathes into the phone, tells her he misses her, asks about his sisters and he can hear her sweet smile through the phone. She laughs when she tells him that when she saw Jay's number on the caller ID and heard his voice come down the line it felt like he was back at school again, calling for help on a homework assignment. Zayn grips the phone tighter.
--
Louis shows up about an hour later with Zayn's suitcase and bag and broken laptop and Zayn just stares at him, eyes wide.
"You need your passport for tomorrow," Louis explains. "He wasn't home. Didn't look like he'd been home for awhile," he adds, because Zayn's asking with his eyes, even as he tries to bite his tongue.
--
The car ride to the airport is gloomy and Zayn feels restless. He slept well the night before, a combination of the strength of his pain meds and Louis' warm body next to his, and energy flows out through his thrumming fingers. He begins to sing to the radio, voice echoing in the still car, and the younger girls giggle and a small content noise escapes Lottie's lips. Jay turns around from the front seat to smile at Zayn, and Louis turns the radio up this time. Soon the girls want to hear their favorite songs so Louis shuts off the music and adds his own voice to the mix, unique timbre rising in the small space and pulling a reluctant chuckle from his mum. Zayn sings above him, making up nonsense words when he doesn't know the lyrics and sending the girls into fits of laughter.
Louis meets his eyes in the rearview mirror and grins at him.
--
Jay cries into Louis' shoulder, looking small in his arms, and Louis whispers soothingly into her hair and tugs at her waist. The girls gather around them and Zayn leans on his crutches and watches them, exhausted already from the check-in procedures, pain meds a comforting weight in his pocket. Louis' mum extricates herself from the group to envelop him in a tight hug.
"Take care of yourself, alright Zayn?" she whispers into his ear, sniffling slightly, pulling away so he can breathe again and clutch at his sore ribs. Lottie looks up at him forlornly and he pulls her into himself.
"Gonna miss you, Lots," he says, and she nods into his shoulder but remains quiet. Louis grips the back of his neck tightly and Zayn nods at him and together they make their way to the gate, slow and steady.
--
Louis is quiet throughout the flight, his usual energy dimmer somehow, and Zayn keeps a close watch on him through take off, eyes closed lightly, a small amount of tension traceable in the hands in his lap. When the fasten seat belt sign goes out, Zayn lifts the armrest so he can tug Louis closer to him and slip his arm around him.
"I'm going to miss them," he says after a moment. Louis nods, looks up.
"Yeah. Me too. I just - Harry, you know?"
Zayn smiles a soft smile and nods.
"Can't believe you told your mum about him," Zayn says, almost hesitantly.
"Me neither," Louis says, and his eyes are wide and earnest and Zayn thinks that maybe he doesn't understand it either. "I just feel - He's. Well, I just - dunno if I'm leaving home or going back."
Zayn thinks about the family they're coming back to and his smile widens and Louis' smiling now too. They fall asleep like that, Zayn's dreams filled with images of blonde hair, and dimples and crinkly brown eyed smiles.
--