fic: take this sinking boat and point it home
"I'm home," Liam calls out, pulling the door shut behind him and taking off his jacket. Mack comes running in, jumping into him and throwing arms around his neck.
"Daddy," she grins and Liam kisses her on the nose, and then takes a bite out of her cheek, "Daddy!" she shrieks, "Don't eat me, I'm your only daughter remember!"
"My favorite daughter," he tells her fondly, kissing her again. She rolls her eyes, wiggles out his grasp.
"Guess who's here?" she says excitedly, pulling on him.
"Mack," he chuckles, "Harry's here everyday, it's not exactly a surprise - "
And then he freezes. Sitting on his lounge floor, crosslegged and barefooted, is Zayn Malik. He's got on a denim jacket that's he's rolled up his forearms and in his lap is his guitar.
He looks up when he hears Liam, smiling shyly up at him through his lashes. Liam wants to kiss him so badly. He clenches his fists together.
"Are you surprised, Daddy?" Mack asks him slyly.
"Ye - yeah," Liam mumbles.
"Zayn's teaching me how to play guitar," she says, going in to sit next to Zayn and looking up at him with a little bit of awe, "Look, he even brought me one that fits me!"
Sitting next to them is a smaller guitar, and Mack picks it up now, brow furrowed in concentration as she tries to position her hands. It fits her perfectly.
"Oh," Liam says faintly, "That's. That's really great Mack."
Zayn's smile has faded a little. He opens his mouth to say something but just then Harry comes in wearing an apron and waving a wooden spoon.
"Oh, good, you're home. Karen asked me to get dinner ready tonight because she's gonna be at the shop. I could use your help. Liam," he adds a bit sternly, because Liam is still rooted to the spot, "Come on."
Liam coughs a bit and nods, follows Harry into the kitchen and sinks onto a stool by the countertop.
Harry doesn't say anything, just continues to cut up carrots, and Liam gets the distinct impression that he's just been rescued.
"What is he doing here?" Liam says with his eyes to the ceiling, and it's meant to be rhetorical but Harry answers anyway.
"He's teaching Mack guitar," Harry says simply, his rhythm never breaking.
"But. Why?" Liam complains, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"Because she wanted to learn? Because it's really hard to say no to your daughter?" He finally puts the knife down, looks up at Liam, "She really likes him, Li," he says quietly, "And it seems to me like he really likes you."
"He hardly knows me," Liam scoffs, and then he sighs, "He's like, twenty three years old, Harry. No twenty three year old wants a six year old daughter, ok?"
Harry shrugs.
"Peel these potatoes for me," he orders, handing him a bowl.
They work in silence for a bit and then Harry clears his throat.
"He's a good teacher anyway. I've never seen Mack more focused."
Liam groans. Of course he's a good teacher, of course he is.
The group of them are making their way to Louis' store, and this time it's Karen that's stolen Zayn's attention. Harry, Niall and Mack are walking ahead but Liam trails behind his mum, mostly to ensure that nothing too embarrassing gets said.
"How long have you been playing?" his mum is asking him.
"Ages," Zayn tells her, "My mum used to play guitar as well. She's the one who taught me. I remember sitting on the porch at night with all the kids on my block to listen to her sing."
"Why'd she stop?" Karen asks, and Liam winces inwardly.
"She's dead," Zayn says quietly, "She died when I was sixteen."
"Oh, you poor baby," Karen says, reaching up to wrap an arm around his shoulders, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Zayn mumbles, and Liam can see a flush creeping up past the collar of his jacket.
"I'm glad you still play," she tells him, "Liam lost his dad, too, when he was young. Stopped playing piano for awhile because of it. He found his way back though. I'm hoping he'll teach Mack eventually. He plays so beautifully, it'd be a shame if - "
"Mum - " Liam groans, speaking up before she can get carried away. "Zayn doesn't care about - "
"I do care, Li," Zayn interrupts firmly, "And I agree, Mrs. Payne. I'm honored that he's willing to play my music."
"So, how is this going to work?" Zayn asks, looking around the room. He's got his guitar out and a messy notebook and he's sitting on a chair by the piano, Harry at his shoulder.
"We're going to jam," Niall tells him, a gleam in his eye, "It's going to be wicked. So you'll play a song straight through right? So we can get a feel for it. And then we'll play it again together. And if you hear something you like, tell us so we can do it again, and if you hear something you don't like, definitely tell us."
"Remember, we're here for you," Harry assures him with a squeeze to his shoulder, "Don't worry about bruising our egos or anything like that yeah?"
"Okay," Zayn nods, and he's starting to look inspired and Liam has to remind himself to breathe, "Okay, let's do this. Can we. Can we start with a new song? I finished writing it last night." Their eyes meet for a moment before Zayn glances away, fiddling with the pages of his notebook.
"Is it alright if I look over your shoulder?" Harry asks him, "For the lyrics?"
"Yeah, course," Zayn says gesturing for him to move closer.
"Key?" Liam asks him, cringing when his voice breaks around the word. He clears his throat.
"Uh - " Zayn shrugs, "I'm not really sure."
"Play a few chords," Niall instructs him, with a shake of his head like he can't get enough of this kid. Zayn obeys and after a moment Niall smiles, "G," he says confidently. Zayn looks impressed.
"That's pretty brilliant," he tells Niall.
"I'll teach you," Niall says with a wave of his hand like it's nothing, "You good, Li?"
Liam nods.
"Let's do this," he echoes, sending Zayn a confident smile. Zayn's smile grows.
And then he begins to sing.
"I don't know you, but I want you," he starts and Liam closes his eyes, sucks in a shaky breath.
He's an assault, Liam decides. A dark haired, innocent smiled, strong handed assault and Liam holds tight to his self control but even his muscles feel like they aren't his own anymore. Because Zayn fits in perfectly here in Liam's world, solid in Niall's chords and the thrum of Louis' bass and the shake of Harry's voice. It's too good to be true, he tells himself. It's not real life. He knows what real life is. He's been living real life for twenty four years. And this is not - this is.
This is an assault.
They rehearse for hours, until well after closing and Zayn's voice is in tatters and Liam's fingers feel sore against the piano but when they finally stop it is with a satisfaction Liam hasn't felt in years.
"I love you," Niall tells Zayn, pulling him in for a hug and kissing his ear. "I'm serious."
Harry and Louis are laughing because Zayn has gone a beet red, pressing his face into his hands.
"Shut up," he tells them all, and then, "Thank you."
"Yeah yeah," Louis grins, waving a hand. "C'mon Harry," he leans in to whisper something into his ear and Harry flushes but his eyes are darkening. He nods. "You can lock up right Li?" he calls over his shoulders.
"Gross," Niall shouts affectionately after the two of them, "Same time tomorrow?" he asks, turning to Zayn and grinning wildly at him.
"Yeah," Zayn nods, voice breathy still with disbelief, "Yeah."
And so it goes on. They rehearse every night, and mostly it's focused but sometimes it turns into mindless jamming, Zayn's hands playing a chord that inspires Louis or Liam into a freestyle of harmonies. When that happens, Harry's grin will disappear into his curls and he'll begin to sing doo-waps and ah ah ahs, giving bass to Zayn's thinner melodies. He'll nudge Niall until Niall grumbles and pulls out his guitar, takes the line Zayn passes to him and runs with it like Liam hasn't heard him do since he got here, years ago.
Zayn crashes into them all really, like sea water into the beach. And then he seeps into them slow, like the ocean into the sand, tucked in patiently between every granule. On the nights that Niall grants them a break, Zayn's over for dinner, or giving Mack guitar lessons, or even picking up groceries if Liam has too much coursework. Liam asks him about his own night classes once, and Zayn shrugs.
"That was never what I really wanted," he tells Liam unworriedly, "This is what I really want."
He has no problem helping Harry with his revision though. More often than not, Liam'll come home from work or class to find the pair of them at his kitchen table, arguing about the importance of some artist or another, Mack working on her own coursework next to them and giggling when Harry laughs triumphantly and Zayn rolls his eyes in exasperation.
On a night when Liam has shut himself in his room to complete his revision he hears a knock on his door. It's Zayn and he's wearing one of those ancient sweaters of his and a soft smile.
"Your mom sent me up," he says, holding out a steaming mug, "Can I come in?"
No, Liam wants to say, no, i cannot have you in my bedroom.
Instead, he smiles meekly.
"Is that coffee?" he asks. Zayn nods, laughing a little when Liam's eyes light up, "Come in," he demands, reaching out for the cup and wrapping his hands around it.
"Massive hands," Zayn points out, staring. Liam rolls his eyes. Then he checks his newly working watch.
"God it's not even late but I just want to be in bed," he moans. Zayn huffs out a laugh, moves to stand behind him so he can lean over Liam to see his work.
"What're you working on?" he murmurs. From this close Liam can smell a faint trace of aftershave and a scent that is purely Zayn and for a moment Liam can't even speak, "Li?" Zayn prods gently.
Liam turns to look up at him, inches away from being able to see if he tastes the way he smells, like spice and fresh rain.
"Psychology reading," he says, voice thick.
Zayn clears his throat, moves his heavy gaze off Liam to the textbook on his desk.
"Stockholm syndrome?" Zayn asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yeah. When you begin to feel affection for the person who's taken you captive," Liam explains.
"That's fucked up," Zayn says drily. Liam laughs a little, edging on hysteria.
"It's a scientific phenomenon," says Liam, feeling a little ridiculous. He's not an expert at this, okay, and even if he was, he wouldn't be able to come up with a proper response because Zayn is looking at him again, serious and intent.
"Oh," is all Zayn says, because then he's placing a hand on the back of Liam's neck, thumb stroking the line of Liam's jaw.
"Zayn," whispers Liam. It comes out more a plea than a protest.
"I'm sorry," Zayn bites his lip and then leans in anyway, eyes trained to Liam's lips and -
Then the bedroom door bangs open and Zayn pulls away like he's been burned.
"Hi Mack," he chokes out, rubbing the back of his neck. Liam can see where his ears have turned red and he'd laugh if his organs weren't all in a heap on the floor.
Mack is staring suspiciously, eyes darting between the two of them.
"What are you two doing?" she demands. Zayn shrugs.
"Your Dad was teaching me about psychology," he says. He's more composed now, offering her and easy smile as she studies him, her own mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown. Liam mutters a silent prayer.
"Ok," she says slowly, "Well, I have to say goodnight and get kisses. Goodnight Zayn," she says, walking closer and tapping her cheek.
Zayn complies obediently, kneeling down to press a kiss to her cheek.
"Night, Mackaroo," he smiles warmly at her, and then moves aside so Liam can kiss her cheek.
"Night Mack, love you baby girl," he whispers, tucking a curl behind her ear.
"Night Daddy," she says, "Love you."
When she's gone, Liam coughs slightly.
"Fuck," he mumbles. "That was - "
"I'm sorry," Zayn rushes to say, "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to - "
"Yeah," Liam says. He wants to be reassuring but his heart is still beating too fast. He's not sure if it's from arousal or anxiety, "I don't want her to - "
"I know," Zayn says, "I know, Li, I'm sorry."
Liam stares at him. There's earnest emotion in his eyes, a backlight that makes the browns of his pupils dance. He's backed away enough but Liam can steal feel the heat of his breath and the roughness of his sweater against his skin. He wonders if he's wearing anything underneath it.
"It's ok," Liam mumbles finally. "It was my fault too."
"It won't happen again, I swear," Zayn assures him. Liam can't help but smile a little.
"Right, so I should - " he gestures back at his work.
"Right, yeah, of course," Zayn says. For a moment they just stare at each other, Zayn biting his lip like he's trying not to laugh. Liam wrinkles his nose.
"What?" he asks, though he's smiling too.
"Nothing," Zayn says, smile laden with mischief, "You're just. I mean. It was entirely your fault, the more I think about it."
Liam raises an eyebrow indignantly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.
"I mean, look at you," Zayn waves a hand at him, "You're gorgeous. And that tank is indecent."
Liam flushes.
"Your face is indecent," he mutters, which, admittedly, is not one of his better lines, but Zayn is smirking at him, and that is indecent, okay?
Zayn blinks, expression shifting immediately into doe-eyed innocence.
"You don't mean that," he says. He's doing a piss poor job of hiding his laughter now, shoulders shaking. Liam glares at him and Zayn braces his hands out in front of him, "Okay, okay, I'm going," he says agreeably.
He heads towards the door, but at the last moment he turns back, catching the way Liam stares at him.
"But I'll be back."
That declaration is only inaccurate because in all honesty, he never really leaves. He learns his way around their kitchen and memorizes how Liam's mom takes her coffee and after he mends a squeaky cupboard door, Karen decides he's the most useful son she's got.
After he helps Liam mow the lawn and clean out the gutters and wash their old car, Liam begrudgingly agrees.
One day, when Mack's at school and Liam and Zayn are touching up the peeling paint on the door frames in a comfortable silence, Zayn stops, sits back on his heels thoughtfully.
"What?" Liam asks, pausing too.
"We could paint Mack's room you know," Zayn says slowly, thinking aloud, "It looks a little worse for wear."
Liam opens his mouth to say something stubborn, but then he closes it again.
"Yeah," Liam concedes, watching as Zayn's eyes light up.
"I've got a ton of supplies at home," he says excitedly, "If you set up the room while I run over to get my things, we could be finished by the time she gets home. She'll be completely surprised."
"What supplies do we need that we don't already have here?" Liam asks, glancing around at the array of paint brushes and pans and paint that they've got at their feet.
Zayn is already standing though, pulling his paint stained shirt over his head carefully and then wiping his hands on it. Liam does not stare.
"Just trust me, Li," Zayn says confidently, evidently not noticing the way Liam's cheeks have flushed, "She's gonna love it."
They spend the rest of the day in Mack's bedroom, maneuvering carefully around the furniture and each other as they paint to the faint rhythm of bluegrass Karen's playing in the kitchen. When they've finished and the entire room glows a beautiful sundance yellow, Zayn shoos Liam out and sets to work, bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.
By the time he comes out again, Mack is home, and she races past Liam, gasping with awe at the sight that greets her. Because Zayn's spent the day dreaming up a mural just for her, featuring a life-size Spiderman center stage. And it's beautiful, all bright colors and flourishes of movement.
Mack is so in love with it she plants a big wet kiss on Zayn's cheek and makes him sign the bottom corner. For a while Liam thinks she might never leave her room again.
Once, Zayn spends the night.
They tuck Mack in and then Harry, Louis, Zayn and Liam stay up to watch the Avengers, and by the time they finish, it's indecently late. Harry and Louis are yawning and getting comfortable on Liam's floor but Zayn's forcing himself up and searching for his jacket, heavy lidded and sleep soft.
"Stay," Liam says, before he can stop himself. Zayn stares at him with wide eyes. He glances briefly at Harry and Louis who make a show of closing their eyes and ears.
"I um," Zayn mutters, cheeks tinged red, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea - "
When he looks back at Liam there's already arousal in his gaze, like just the idea of spending the night with Liam is enough to drive him crazy.
Liam swallows.
"It's fine, just take the couch," he insists, attempting an indifferent shrug and failing.
"You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife," Louis remarks casually.
"It'd probably melt though," quips Harry with a snigger. Liam flushes.
"I'll get you some blankets," he says to Zayn, voice going high with embarrassment. Zayn nods, his sleepiness easing some of his embarrassment.
"Thanks," he mumbles, shy.
Liam forces himself away as Zayn makes to unbutton his jeans, and by the time he gets back with a pile of blankets Zayn is smiling his thanks up at Liam sleepily and crawling into a cocoon of blankets.
Liam considers it an accomplishment that he manages to sleep knowing there's a half naked Zayn in the next room over but then he wakes up to a floppy haired Zayn watching Saturday morning cartoons with Mack and has to excuse himself to the kitchen.
His mom finds him there five minutes later, banging his head against the pantry door. She just smiles amusedly at him, presses two cups of coffee into his hand and sends him out again with a cluck of her tongue.
No one is on his side.
Three weeks pass before Niall deems them ready to record. They finish their last song on Saturday night and Niall just sits back with a satisfaction that lines every curve of his body, and one look at him has Harry grinning wildly, feeding off it and passing it along to Louis and suddenly Louis's taking Harry by the waist and waltzing him around the room and Liam obliges them, because he loves them, puts his fingers to the keys and plays what he can remember of The Blue Danube and it's only when Zayn asks them what in God's name is going on that they stop, hands on their knees to catch their breath.
"Niall's booked us studio time," Harry says importantly and Niall nods, moving to sling an arm around Zayn's waist and pinch his cheek.
"For tomorrow night," he says, "You're ready."
Zayn's eyes begin to sparkle, flecks of gold shining bright under harsh fluorescent bulbs and Liam's stomach does a little swoop of dread.
"But I want to go to the studio," Mack whines, stomping her foot a little and pouting up at Liam. Liam shakes his head.
"Baby, you'll get to listen ok? After it's done. I promise. But right now we've got to do some serious work - "
"I can do serious work," Mack declares petulantly.
"Hey," Zayn says, kneeling down next to her. He whispers something in her ear and suddenly she smiles.
"Really?" she asks him excitedly.
"Pinky promise," Zayn grins, extending his pinky. Mack hooks her finger in his and kisses her thumb and Zayn copies her. When she seems satisfied, he stands again, ruffling up her curls.
Liam pulls him aside after the five of them have planted a kiss on Mack's cheek and began making their way to where Niall works.
"What'd you say to her?" he demands. Zayn shrugs noncommittally.
"Told her I'd give her a CD with all our signatures on it," he says. Liam raises an eyebrow at him.
"That worked?" he asks skeptically. Zayn flushes.
"And I told her I'd take her for an ice cream after school tomorrow," he admits. Liam glares at him.
"She's not allowed out on school nights," Liam says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
"That's not a rule, Li," Louis interrupts, jumping on his back and knocking the wind out of Liam. Liam catches him instinctively with hands under his thighs, but afterwards he wishes he'd just let him fall, "Come on," Louis says, leaning forward to press a slobbery kiss to Liam's cheek, "Don't be a spoil sport."
"I'm just trying to be responsible," he says crossly. Zayn's looking at him worriedly, taking twice the number of steps to keep up with him.
"I'm sorry, Liam," Zayn says, "I overstepped. I won't take her, okay?"
A horrible, cowardly part of Liam wants Zayn to do just that. Wants Mack to be angry at Zayn for breaking his promise. Wants to prove to Mack sooner rather than later that eventually he's going to leave them both.
Louis seems to be listening in to his thoughts because he tightens his grip around Liam's neck and presses a more sincere kiss to his cheek.
"Liam," he pleads softly, "C'mon." The just give him a chance goes unsaid, but Liam hears it anyway. He sighs.
"No, you should go. It was really nice of you to offer. Thank you," Liam mumbles and Zayn grins again.
"It's my pleasure, honestly."
"You're staring," Niall observes quietly, voice a halfway point between teasing and serious that Niall seems to have perfected. Liam slumps in his seat. He is staring, he knows that. Zayn looks magical in the booth, like he was born to put his mouth to a microphone. Liam is entranced, "I don't blame you," Niall continues, "He's incredible."
Liam turns to him a little helplessly. It's just the two of them: Harry and Louis have allegedly gone to find some coffee. Allegedly. Found a storage closet, more like, Niall had remarked when they hadn't returned twenty minutes later.
"I don't know what to do," he confesses. Niall pulls him close in sympathy.
"Have you thought about what's going to happen when he's done?" he asks. Liam swallows, looks up to search Niall's eyes. From this angle they are a sapphire blue and they spark with a relentlessness that challenges Liam to think about things he'd rather push away. Niall nods once, guessing his question. "Simon's got some people out in New York. If Zayn's good, he'll want to send him out there for meetings and things so that Zayn can get some face time with bigger execs and producers. If that goes well, well - "
He trails off and Liam closes his eyes, lets Niall nuzzle his cheek into Liam's hair for a moment.
Then, he stiffens, forces himself to draw back.
"That'll be amazing for him," he forces the words out, "An opportunity he really deserves."
"Liam - " Niall protests, surprised. but Liam shakes his head.
"God, where are Lou and Haz with that coffee?" he stands up jerkily and storms out the door.
And that's that.
"We are never recording another EP with you again," Louis grumbles, kicking at the dirt under his shoe in petulant tiredness. Harry presses a sweet kiss to his temple, pulls him close.
"He's kidding," he assures Zayn, leaning forward to thread their fingers together briefly, "It was an honor, seriously."
"Thanks," Zayn says. His voice is raw and fucked out and sits right in the pit of Liam's belly, hot, "I mean it. You lot are - "
"Something else," Niall finishes cheerfully, "No need to thank us. Just don't forget us when you're rich and famous, yeah?"
"How could I?" Zayn asks softly, looking at Liam. Liam sucks in a breath. It's so unfair, he thinks miserably. He wants to punch something. Instead he smiles shakily at Zayn.
"Walk you home?" he asks. Because it's an assault, ok? An unfair, miserable assault.
Zayn beams at him.
"How did your dad's watch break?" Zayn asks him, breaking the quiet between them. Liam's glad for it: there was something building in that silence - coy glances, warm skin, shaky breath - that Liam doesn't think he could have controlled.
"Dunno," he says, glancing at Zayn, "It was broken when I got it. Why - ?"
"I'm just. I dunno," Zayn says slowly, "It's just. You've changed my life in so many ways over the past few weeks. And it feels like it's all because of that watch."
Liam huffs out a laugh.
"Fate," he says, and his voice catches on the word and they're already at Zayn's doorstep but Liam doesn't want to let him go. "Can we just - " he begins, hoping Zayn will understand the plea in his voice.
"Yeah," he nods immediately, "'Course." He takes a couple of steps forward past his doorway, waits for Liam to catch up.
"Your friends are incredible musicians," he nudges Liam and somehow Liam hears what he's not saying.
"Thanks," he says meaningfully.
"Did they all study music in uni?"
"Nah, um. Niall did sound engineering back in Dublin. You know Harry's doing music, he's in his last term. And Louis dropped out but he was gonna be a drama teacher probably."
"Who knows," Zayn says, smiling.
"Who knows," Liam echoes, the traces of a smile forming on his face. "Where are we going?" he asks, because Zayn's leading him off the street now and onto a dirt path.
"Not long now," Zayn assures him, a little breathless with the sudden incline. They climb in silence for a few minutes, and Liam would watch the way the full moon is slowly revealed above them if he wasn't so preoccupied with the way she casted shadows on Zayn's cheekbones.
There's a clearing ahead and they head for it and then it dips away and Liam's faced with a view of their entire city laid out before them, the streetlights casting a glow that seems to reach for them, draw them in, draw them closer.
"It's beautiful," Liam breathes.
"Yeah," Zayn murmurs, but when Liam turns he finds Zayn's watching him instead, eyes hooded with desire.
He tucks it away quickly enough though, steps back a little and stretches out on the grass. After a minute, Liam joins him.
"I come here a lot to clear my head, work on my music," he tells Liam, and there is so much stubborn patience in his voice and that just undoes something in Liam, flooding his body like a panic attack.
"Zayn," he chokes out and god he doesn't even know what he wants but somehow Zayn is right where Liam needs him to be.
"Hey," he says, concern turning his voice low, "Hey, Liam, it's alright. It's alright." He puts an arm around Liam and draws him close so that Liam can turn his head into Zayn's chest, greedy for the steadiness Zayn offers him.
"Is it?" Liam asks quietly, because the warmth of Zayn is already addicting.
"Yeah," Zayn turns his head down and hesitantly presses a kiss to Liam's forehead. Liam shudders, moves closer into him, and Zayn tightens his arms around him, "You're alright."
They sit together like that for a long time, let the exhaustion of the day lull them into a state of muffled half consciousness. Liam keeps the time with Zayn's heartbeat under his ear, pretends his own heartbeat follows the same rhythm, at least for awhile.
"Do you really think all this is possible?" Zayn asks then, quiet and unsure. "Do you really think I could - "
"Yes," Liam tells him simply. "I knew it from the first moment I heard you play. You just needed people to listen to you, remember? And I did, and Niall and Louis and Harry did too. And now - " he swallows, "You're going to build homes for people with your music Zayn. I'm sure of it."
Zayn lets out a quiet laugh.
"I'm glad you've got such faith in me, I just wish I understood why - "
"Silly," Liam scolds without bite, leaning in closer. Zayn sighs. Lets them drift back into silence for another measure.
"I played for my dad yesterday." This time when Zayn speaks his voice is rough with disuse and he has to clear his throat, "He was wondering where I kept disappearing to every night, you know."
Liam can feel his shrug.
"And - ?" he pushes gently.
"And," Zayn says. For a moment, Liam thinks he's not going to continue, but then he breathes out, "And he could pick out my mother in a few of the songs," he says quietly. "I think he really did love her."
"He did," Liam assures him quietly, "Enough to give us you, yeah?"
Zayn wrinkles his nose.
"Ew," he groans, "Please tell me you aren't thinking about my parents - "
"God, no, now I am though. Christ," Liam huffs a laugh, pinching his side.
"Hey," Zayn complains, catching Liam's hand with his own. He clears his throat again, "God, I could really use some hot tea," he says wistfully.
"We could go back to - " Liam starts to sit up but Zayn shakes his head.
"No," he says, "No, let's just - Let's just sit awhile yeah?"
"But your voice - "
"Will heal," Zayn says patiently, "And besides, we have a bit of a break now, yeah?"
Oh, Liam thinks, heart sinking back to where it'd settled since Niall had told him about New York.
"Yeah," he mumbles, On second thought, sitting here awhile sounds perfect.
By the time he makes it home the sun is rising and Niall's getting ready for work. He's the only one awake.
"Are you just getting in - Hey," Niall's voice shifts from incredulous to kind, and he comes up and embraces Liam where Liam is swaying on his feet, tucking Liam's head against his shoulder with a warm hand behind his neck, "You're alright, Liam," he soothes, because Liam probably looks miserable, dead on his feet exhausted. "It's alright. C'mon, let's get you to bed."
"I have to. Mack's got school today, I've got to pack her lunch and - " Liam mumbles against his neck.
"I'll take care of it," Niall says, "I'll make sure she's ready for school, yeah?"
"You shouldn't have to do that. I was irresponsible, I should have - "
"Shut up," Niall says severely, pulling back to look him in the eye, "Liam. You're. You're allowed to be irresponsible sometimes okay? For gods' sake. Let me take you to bed."
Liam sighs. He's too tired to put up a fight, and the idea of falling into his own bed is too appealing, so he lets Niall lead him to his room with a warm hand in the small of his back and a kiss to his neck.
"Shirt and trousers?" Niall prompts, when Liam's toed off his shoes clumsily. Liam blinks blearily at him and then nods and obeys tiredly.
"Too old for late night rendezvous, huh?" Niall chuckles at him, after he's tucked Liam into bed. Liam squeezes his eyes shut but a tear escapes anyway and Niall sucks in a breath, kisses his forehead, "I love you," he tells him, "Sleep, okay? I love you so much."
"Lou - ?" he hears Niall say in a hushed voice through layers of consciousness, "No he's here. I don't know why you've encouraged him like this, Lou he'll only - " he sighs, "Yeah, no, I know. I know he is. Yeah, stop by later will you? No, it's pretty bad - "
next
"Daddy," she grins and Liam kisses her on the nose, and then takes a bite out of her cheek, "Daddy!" she shrieks, "Don't eat me, I'm your only daughter remember!"
"My favorite daughter," he tells her fondly, kissing her again. She rolls her eyes, wiggles out his grasp.
"Guess who's here?" she says excitedly, pulling on him.
"Mack," he chuckles, "Harry's here everyday, it's not exactly a surprise - "
And then he freezes. Sitting on his lounge floor, crosslegged and barefooted, is Zayn Malik. He's got on a denim jacket that's he's rolled up his forearms and in his lap is his guitar.
He looks up when he hears Liam, smiling shyly up at him through his lashes. Liam wants to kiss him so badly. He clenches his fists together.
"Are you surprised, Daddy?" Mack asks him slyly.
"Ye - yeah," Liam mumbles.
"Zayn's teaching me how to play guitar," she says, going in to sit next to Zayn and looking up at him with a little bit of awe, "Look, he even brought me one that fits me!"
Sitting next to them is a smaller guitar, and Mack picks it up now, brow furrowed in concentration as she tries to position her hands. It fits her perfectly.
"Oh," Liam says faintly, "That's. That's really great Mack."
Zayn's smile has faded a little. He opens his mouth to say something but just then Harry comes in wearing an apron and waving a wooden spoon.
"Oh, good, you're home. Karen asked me to get dinner ready tonight because she's gonna be at the shop. I could use your help. Liam," he adds a bit sternly, because Liam is still rooted to the spot, "Come on."
Liam coughs a bit and nods, follows Harry into the kitchen and sinks onto a stool by the countertop.
Harry doesn't say anything, just continues to cut up carrots, and Liam gets the distinct impression that he's just been rescued.
"What is he doing here?" Liam says with his eyes to the ceiling, and it's meant to be rhetorical but Harry answers anyway.
"He's teaching Mack guitar," Harry says simply, his rhythm never breaking.
"But. Why?" Liam complains, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"Because she wanted to learn? Because it's really hard to say no to your daughter?" He finally puts the knife down, looks up at Liam, "She really likes him, Li," he says quietly, "And it seems to me like he really likes you."
"He hardly knows me," Liam scoffs, and then he sighs, "He's like, twenty three years old, Harry. No twenty three year old wants a six year old daughter, ok?"
Harry shrugs.
"Peel these potatoes for me," he orders, handing him a bowl.
They work in silence for a bit and then Harry clears his throat.
"He's a good teacher anyway. I've never seen Mack more focused."
Liam groans. Of course he's a good teacher, of course he is.
The group of them are making their way to Louis' store, and this time it's Karen that's stolen Zayn's attention. Harry, Niall and Mack are walking ahead but Liam trails behind his mum, mostly to ensure that nothing too embarrassing gets said.
"How long have you been playing?" his mum is asking him.
"Ages," Zayn tells her, "My mum used to play guitar as well. She's the one who taught me. I remember sitting on the porch at night with all the kids on my block to listen to her sing."
"Why'd she stop?" Karen asks, and Liam winces inwardly.
"She's dead," Zayn says quietly, "She died when I was sixteen."
"Oh, you poor baby," Karen says, reaching up to wrap an arm around his shoulders, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," Zayn mumbles, and Liam can see a flush creeping up past the collar of his jacket.
"I'm glad you still play," she tells him, "Liam lost his dad, too, when he was young. Stopped playing piano for awhile because of it. He found his way back though. I'm hoping he'll teach Mack eventually. He plays so beautifully, it'd be a shame if - "
"Mum - " Liam groans, speaking up before she can get carried away. "Zayn doesn't care about - "
"I do care, Li," Zayn interrupts firmly, "And I agree, Mrs. Payne. I'm honored that he's willing to play my music."
"So, how is this going to work?" Zayn asks, looking around the room. He's got his guitar out and a messy notebook and he's sitting on a chair by the piano, Harry at his shoulder.
"We're going to jam," Niall tells him, a gleam in his eye, "It's going to be wicked. So you'll play a song straight through right? So we can get a feel for it. And then we'll play it again together. And if you hear something you like, tell us so we can do it again, and if you hear something you don't like, definitely tell us."
"Remember, we're here for you," Harry assures him with a squeeze to his shoulder, "Don't worry about bruising our egos or anything like that yeah?"
"Okay," Zayn nods, and he's starting to look inspired and Liam has to remind himself to breathe, "Okay, let's do this. Can we. Can we start with a new song? I finished writing it last night." Their eyes meet for a moment before Zayn glances away, fiddling with the pages of his notebook.
"Is it alright if I look over your shoulder?" Harry asks him, "For the lyrics?"
"Yeah, course," Zayn says gesturing for him to move closer.
"Key?" Liam asks him, cringing when his voice breaks around the word. He clears his throat.
"Uh - " Zayn shrugs, "I'm not really sure."
"Play a few chords," Niall instructs him, with a shake of his head like he can't get enough of this kid. Zayn obeys and after a moment Niall smiles, "G," he says confidently. Zayn looks impressed.
"That's pretty brilliant," he tells Niall.
"I'll teach you," Niall says with a wave of his hand like it's nothing, "You good, Li?"
Liam nods.
"Let's do this," he echoes, sending Zayn a confident smile. Zayn's smile grows.
And then he begins to sing.
"I don't know you, but I want you," he starts and Liam closes his eyes, sucks in a shaky breath.
He's an assault, Liam decides. A dark haired, innocent smiled, strong handed assault and Liam holds tight to his self control but even his muscles feel like they aren't his own anymore. Because Zayn fits in perfectly here in Liam's world, solid in Niall's chords and the thrum of Louis' bass and the shake of Harry's voice. It's too good to be true, he tells himself. It's not real life. He knows what real life is. He's been living real life for twenty four years. And this is not - this is.
This is an assault.
They rehearse for hours, until well after closing and Zayn's voice is in tatters and Liam's fingers feel sore against the piano but when they finally stop it is with a satisfaction Liam hasn't felt in years.
"I love you," Niall tells Zayn, pulling him in for a hug and kissing his ear. "I'm serious."
Harry and Louis are laughing because Zayn has gone a beet red, pressing his face into his hands.
"Shut up," he tells them all, and then, "Thank you."
"Yeah yeah," Louis grins, waving a hand. "C'mon Harry," he leans in to whisper something into his ear and Harry flushes but his eyes are darkening. He nods. "You can lock up right Li?" he calls over his shoulders.
"Gross," Niall shouts affectionately after the two of them, "Same time tomorrow?" he asks, turning to Zayn and grinning wildly at him.
"Yeah," Zayn nods, voice breathy still with disbelief, "Yeah."
And so it goes on. They rehearse every night, and mostly it's focused but sometimes it turns into mindless jamming, Zayn's hands playing a chord that inspires Louis or Liam into a freestyle of harmonies. When that happens, Harry's grin will disappear into his curls and he'll begin to sing doo-waps and ah ah ahs, giving bass to Zayn's thinner melodies. He'll nudge Niall until Niall grumbles and pulls out his guitar, takes the line Zayn passes to him and runs with it like Liam hasn't heard him do since he got here, years ago.
Zayn crashes into them all really, like sea water into the beach. And then he seeps into them slow, like the ocean into the sand, tucked in patiently between every granule. On the nights that Niall grants them a break, Zayn's over for dinner, or giving Mack guitar lessons, or even picking up groceries if Liam has too much coursework. Liam asks him about his own night classes once, and Zayn shrugs.
"That was never what I really wanted," he tells Liam unworriedly, "This is what I really want."
He has no problem helping Harry with his revision though. More often than not, Liam'll come home from work or class to find the pair of them at his kitchen table, arguing about the importance of some artist or another, Mack working on her own coursework next to them and giggling when Harry laughs triumphantly and Zayn rolls his eyes in exasperation.
On a night when Liam has shut himself in his room to complete his revision he hears a knock on his door. It's Zayn and he's wearing one of those ancient sweaters of his and a soft smile.
"Your mom sent me up," he says, holding out a steaming mug, "Can I come in?"
No, Liam wants to say, no, i cannot have you in my bedroom.
Instead, he smiles meekly.
"Is that coffee?" he asks. Zayn nods, laughing a little when Liam's eyes light up, "Come in," he demands, reaching out for the cup and wrapping his hands around it.
"Massive hands," Zayn points out, staring. Liam rolls his eyes. Then he checks his newly working watch.
"God it's not even late but I just want to be in bed," he moans. Zayn huffs out a laugh, moves to stand behind him so he can lean over Liam to see his work.
"What're you working on?" he murmurs. From this close Liam can smell a faint trace of aftershave and a scent that is purely Zayn and for a moment Liam can't even speak, "Li?" Zayn prods gently.
Liam turns to look up at him, inches away from being able to see if he tastes the way he smells, like spice and fresh rain.
"Psychology reading," he says, voice thick.
Zayn clears his throat, moves his heavy gaze off Liam to the textbook on his desk.
"Stockholm syndrome?" Zayn asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yeah. When you begin to feel affection for the person who's taken you captive," Liam explains.
"That's fucked up," Zayn says drily. Liam laughs a little, edging on hysteria.
"It's a scientific phenomenon," says Liam, feeling a little ridiculous. He's not an expert at this, okay, and even if he was, he wouldn't be able to come up with a proper response because Zayn is looking at him again, serious and intent.
"Oh," is all Zayn says, because then he's placing a hand on the back of Liam's neck, thumb stroking the line of Liam's jaw.
"Zayn," whispers Liam. It comes out more a plea than a protest.
"I'm sorry," Zayn bites his lip and then leans in anyway, eyes trained to Liam's lips and -
Then the bedroom door bangs open and Zayn pulls away like he's been burned.
"Hi Mack," he chokes out, rubbing the back of his neck. Liam can see where his ears have turned red and he'd laugh if his organs weren't all in a heap on the floor.
Mack is staring suspiciously, eyes darting between the two of them.
"What are you two doing?" she demands. Zayn shrugs.
"Your Dad was teaching me about psychology," he says. He's more composed now, offering her and easy smile as she studies him, her own mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown. Liam mutters a silent prayer.
"Ok," she says slowly, "Well, I have to say goodnight and get kisses. Goodnight Zayn," she says, walking closer and tapping her cheek.
Zayn complies obediently, kneeling down to press a kiss to her cheek.
"Night, Mackaroo," he smiles warmly at her, and then moves aside so Liam can kiss her cheek.
"Night Mack, love you baby girl," he whispers, tucking a curl behind her ear.
"Night Daddy," she says, "Love you."
When she's gone, Liam coughs slightly.
"Fuck," he mumbles. "That was - "
"I'm sorry," Zayn rushes to say, "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to - "
"Yeah," Liam says. He wants to be reassuring but his heart is still beating too fast. He's not sure if it's from arousal or anxiety, "I don't want her to - "
"I know," Zayn says, "I know, Li, I'm sorry."
Liam stares at him. There's earnest emotion in his eyes, a backlight that makes the browns of his pupils dance. He's backed away enough but Liam can steal feel the heat of his breath and the roughness of his sweater against his skin. He wonders if he's wearing anything underneath it.
"It's ok," Liam mumbles finally. "It was my fault too."
"It won't happen again, I swear," Zayn assures him. Liam can't help but smile a little.
"Right, so I should - " he gestures back at his work.
"Right, yeah, of course," Zayn says. For a moment they just stare at each other, Zayn biting his lip like he's trying not to laugh. Liam wrinkles his nose.
"What?" he asks, though he's smiling too.
"Nothing," Zayn says, smile laden with mischief, "You're just. I mean. It was entirely your fault, the more I think about it."
Liam raises an eyebrow indignantly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.
"I mean, look at you," Zayn waves a hand at him, "You're gorgeous. And that tank is indecent."
Liam flushes.
"Your face is indecent," he mutters, which, admittedly, is not one of his better lines, but Zayn is smirking at him, and that is indecent, okay?
Zayn blinks, expression shifting immediately into doe-eyed innocence.
"You don't mean that," he says. He's doing a piss poor job of hiding his laughter now, shoulders shaking. Liam glares at him and Zayn braces his hands out in front of him, "Okay, okay, I'm going," he says agreeably.
He heads towards the door, but at the last moment he turns back, catching the way Liam stares at him.
"But I'll be back."
That declaration is only inaccurate because in all honesty, he never really leaves. He learns his way around their kitchen and memorizes how Liam's mom takes her coffee and after he mends a squeaky cupboard door, Karen decides he's the most useful son she's got.
After he helps Liam mow the lawn and clean out the gutters and wash their old car, Liam begrudgingly agrees.
One day, when Mack's at school and Liam and Zayn are touching up the peeling paint on the door frames in a comfortable silence, Zayn stops, sits back on his heels thoughtfully.
"What?" Liam asks, pausing too.
"We could paint Mack's room you know," Zayn says slowly, thinking aloud, "It looks a little worse for wear."
Liam opens his mouth to say something stubborn, but then he closes it again.
"Yeah," Liam concedes, watching as Zayn's eyes light up.
"I've got a ton of supplies at home," he says excitedly, "If you set up the room while I run over to get my things, we could be finished by the time she gets home. She'll be completely surprised."
"What supplies do we need that we don't already have here?" Liam asks, glancing around at the array of paint brushes and pans and paint that they've got at their feet.
Zayn is already standing though, pulling his paint stained shirt over his head carefully and then wiping his hands on it. Liam does not stare.
"Just trust me, Li," Zayn says confidently, evidently not noticing the way Liam's cheeks have flushed, "She's gonna love it."
They spend the rest of the day in Mack's bedroom, maneuvering carefully around the furniture and each other as they paint to the faint rhythm of bluegrass Karen's playing in the kitchen. When they've finished and the entire room glows a beautiful sundance yellow, Zayn shoos Liam out and sets to work, bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.
By the time he comes out again, Mack is home, and she races past Liam, gasping with awe at the sight that greets her. Because Zayn's spent the day dreaming up a mural just for her, featuring a life-size Spiderman center stage. And it's beautiful, all bright colors and flourishes of movement.
Mack is so in love with it she plants a big wet kiss on Zayn's cheek and makes him sign the bottom corner. For a while Liam thinks she might never leave her room again.
Once, Zayn spends the night.
They tuck Mack in and then Harry, Louis, Zayn and Liam stay up to watch the Avengers, and by the time they finish, it's indecently late. Harry and Louis are yawning and getting comfortable on Liam's floor but Zayn's forcing himself up and searching for his jacket, heavy lidded and sleep soft.
"Stay," Liam says, before he can stop himself. Zayn stares at him with wide eyes. He glances briefly at Harry and Louis who make a show of closing their eyes and ears.
"I um," Zayn mutters, cheeks tinged red, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea - "
When he looks back at Liam there's already arousal in his gaze, like just the idea of spending the night with Liam is enough to drive him crazy.
Liam swallows.
"It's fine, just take the couch," he insists, attempting an indifferent shrug and failing.
"You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife," Louis remarks casually.
"It'd probably melt though," quips Harry with a snigger. Liam flushes.
"I'll get you some blankets," he says to Zayn, voice going high with embarrassment. Zayn nods, his sleepiness easing some of his embarrassment.
"Thanks," he mumbles, shy.
Liam forces himself away as Zayn makes to unbutton his jeans, and by the time he gets back with a pile of blankets Zayn is smiling his thanks up at Liam sleepily and crawling into a cocoon of blankets.
Liam considers it an accomplishment that he manages to sleep knowing there's a half naked Zayn in the next room over but then he wakes up to a floppy haired Zayn watching Saturday morning cartoons with Mack and has to excuse himself to the kitchen.
His mom finds him there five minutes later, banging his head against the pantry door. She just smiles amusedly at him, presses two cups of coffee into his hand and sends him out again with a cluck of her tongue.
No one is on his side.
Three weeks pass before Niall deems them ready to record. They finish their last song on Saturday night and Niall just sits back with a satisfaction that lines every curve of his body, and one look at him has Harry grinning wildly, feeding off it and passing it along to Louis and suddenly Louis's taking Harry by the waist and waltzing him around the room and Liam obliges them, because he loves them, puts his fingers to the keys and plays what he can remember of The Blue Danube and it's only when Zayn asks them what in God's name is going on that they stop, hands on their knees to catch their breath.
"Niall's booked us studio time," Harry says importantly and Niall nods, moving to sling an arm around Zayn's waist and pinch his cheek.
"For tomorrow night," he says, "You're ready."
Zayn's eyes begin to sparkle, flecks of gold shining bright under harsh fluorescent bulbs and Liam's stomach does a little swoop of dread.
"But I want to go to the studio," Mack whines, stomping her foot a little and pouting up at Liam. Liam shakes his head.
"Baby, you'll get to listen ok? After it's done. I promise. But right now we've got to do some serious work - "
"I can do serious work," Mack declares petulantly.
"Hey," Zayn says, kneeling down next to her. He whispers something in her ear and suddenly she smiles.
"Really?" she asks him excitedly.
"Pinky promise," Zayn grins, extending his pinky. Mack hooks her finger in his and kisses her thumb and Zayn copies her. When she seems satisfied, he stands again, ruffling up her curls.
Liam pulls him aside after the five of them have planted a kiss on Mack's cheek and began making their way to where Niall works.
"What'd you say to her?" he demands. Zayn shrugs noncommittally.
"Told her I'd give her a CD with all our signatures on it," he says. Liam raises an eyebrow at him.
"That worked?" he asks skeptically. Zayn flushes.
"And I told her I'd take her for an ice cream after school tomorrow," he admits. Liam glares at him.
"She's not allowed out on school nights," Liam says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
"That's not a rule, Li," Louis interrupts, jumping on his back and knocking the wind out of Liam. Liam catches him instinctively with hands under his thighs, but afterwards he wishes he'd just let him fall, "Come on," Louis says, leaning forward to press a slobbery kiss to Liam's cheek, "Don't be a spoil sport."
"I'm just trying to be responsible," he says crossly. Zayn's looking at him worriedly, taking twice the number of steps to keep up with him.
"I'm sorry, Liam," Zayn says, "I overstepped. I won't take her, okay?"
A horrible, cowardly part of Liam wants Zayn to do just that. Wants Mack to be angry at Zayn for breaking his promise. Wants to prove to Mack sooner rather than later that eventually he's going to leave them both.
Louis seems to be listening in to his thoughts because he tightens his grip around Liam's neck and presses a more sincere kiss to his cheek.
"Liam," he pleads softly, "C'mon." The just give him a chance goes unsaid, but Liam hears it anyway. He sighs.
"No, you should go. It was really nice of you to offer. Thank you," Liam mumbles and Zayn grins again.
"It's my pleasure, honestly."
"You're staring," Niall observes quietly, voice a halfway point between teasing and serious that Niall seems to have perfected. Liam slumps in his seat. He is staring, he knows that. Zayn looks magical in the booth, like he was born to put his mouth to a microphone. Liam is entranced, "I don't blame you," Niall continues, "He's incredible."
Liam turns to him a little helplessly. It's just the two of them: Harry and Louis have allegedly gone to find some coffee. Allegedly. Found a storage closet, more like, Niall had remarked when they hadn't returned twenty minutes later.
"I don't know what to do," he confesses. Niall pulls him close in sympathy.
"Have you thought about what's going to happen when he's done?" he asks. Liam swallows, looks up to search Niall's eyes. From this angle they are a sapphire blue and they spark with a relentlessness that challenges Liam to think about things he'd rather push away. Niall nods once, guessing his question. "Simon's got some people out in New York. If Zayn's good, he'll want to send him out there for meetings and things so that Zayn can get some face time with bigger execs and producers. If that goes well, well - "
He trails off and Liam closes his eyes, lets Niall nuzzle his cheek into Liam's hair for a moment.
Then, he stiffens, forces himself to draw back.
"That'll be amazing for him," he forces the words out, "An opportunity he really deserves."
"Liam - " Niall protests, surprised. but Liam shakes his head.
"God, where are Lou and Haz with that coffee?" he stands up jerkily and storms out the door.
And that's that.
"We are never recording another EP with you again," Louis grumbles, kicking at the dirt under his shoe in petulant tiredness. Harry presses a sweet kiss to his temple, pulls him close.
"He's kidding," he assures Zayn, leaning forward to thread their fingers together briefly, "It was an honor, seriously."
"Thanks," Zayn says. His voice is raw and fucked out and sits right in the pit of Liam's belly, hot, "I mean it. You lot are - "
"Something else," Niall finishes cheerfully, "No need to thank us. Just don't forget us when you're rich and famous, yeah?"
"How could I?" Zayn asks softly, looking at Liam. Liam sucks in a breath. It's so unfair, he thinks miserably. He wants to punch something. Instead he smiles shakily at Zayn.
"Walk you home?" he asks. Because it's an assault, ok? An unfair, miserable assault.
Zayn beams at him.
"How did your dad's watch break?" Zayn asks him, breaking the quiet between them. Liam's glad for it: there was something building in that silence - coy glances, warm skin, shaky breath - that Liam doesn't think he could have controlled.
"Dunno," he says, glancing at Zayn, "It was broken when I got it. Why - ?"
"I'm just. I dunno," Zayn says slowly, "It's just. You've changed my life in so many ways over the past few weeks. And it feels like it's all because of that watch."
Liam huffs out a laugh.
"Fate," he says, and his voice catches on the word and they're already at Zayn's doorstep but Liam doesn't want to let him go. "Can we just - " he begins, hoping Zayn will understand the plea in his voice.
"Yeah," he nods immediately, "'Course." He takes a couple of steps forward past his doorway, waits for Liam to catch up.
"Your friends are incredible musicians," he nudges Liam and somehow Liam hears what he's not saying.
"Thanks," he says meaningfully.
"Did they all study music in uni?"
"Nah, um. Niall did sound engineering back in Dublin. You know Harry's doing music, he's in his last term. And Louis dropped out but he was gonna be a drama teacher probably."
"Who knows," Zayn says, smiling.
"Who knows," Liam echoes, the traces of a smile forming on his face. "Where are we going?" he asks, because Zayn's leading him off the street now and onto a dirt path.
"Not long now," Zayn assures him, a little breathless with the sudden incline. They climb in silence for a few minutes, and Liam would watch the way the full moon is slowly revealed above them if he wasn't so preoccupied with the way she casted shadows on Zayn's cheekbones.
There's a clearing ahead and they head for it and then it dips away and Liam's faced with a view of their entire city laid out before them, the streetlights casting a glow that seems to reach for them, draw them in, draw them closer.
"It's beautiful," Liam breathes.
"Yeah," Zayn murmurs, but when Liam turns he finds Zayn's watching him instead, eyes hooded with desire.
He tucks it away quickly enough though, steps back a little and stretches out on the grass. After a minute, Liam joins him.
"I come here a lot to clear my head, work on my music," he tells Liam, and there is so much stubborn patience in his voice and that just undoes something in Liam, flooding his body like a panic attack.
"Zayn," he chokes out and god he doesn't even know what he wants but somehow Zayn is right where Liam needs him to be.
"Hey," he says, concern turning his voice low, "Hey, Liam, it's alright. It's alright." He puts an arm around Liam and draws him close so that Liam can turn his head into Zayn's chest, greedy for the steadiness Zayn offers him.
"Is it?" Liam asks quietly, because the warmth of Zayn is already addicting.
"Yeah," Zayn turns his head down and hesitantly presses a kiss to Liam's forehead. Liam shudders, moves closer into him, and Zayn tightens his arms around him, "You're alright."
They sit together like that for a long time, let the exhaustion of the day lull them into a state of muffled half consciousness. Liam keeps the time with Zayn's heartbeat under his ear, pretends his own heartbeat follows the same rhythm, at least for awhile.
"Do you really think all this is possible?" Zayn asks then, quiet and unsure. "Do you really think I could - "
"Yes," Liam tells him simply. "I knew it from the first moment I heard you play. You just needed people to listen to you, remember? And I did, and Niall and Louis and Harry did too. And now - " he swallows, "You're going to build homes for people with your music Zayn. I'm sure of it."
Zayn lets out a quiet laugh.
"I'm glad you've got such faith in me, I just wish I understood why - "
"Silly," Liam scolds without bite, leaning in closer. Zayn sighs. Lets them drift back into silence for another measure.
"I played for my dad yesterday." This time when Zayn speaks his voice is rough with disuse and he has to clear his throat, "He was wondering where I kept disappearing to every night, you know."
Liam can feel his shrug.
"And - ?" he pushes gently.
"And," Zayn says. For a moment, Liam thinks he's not going to continue, but then he breathes out, "And he could pick out my mother in a few of the songs," he says quietly. "I think he really did love her."
"He did," Liam assures him quietly, "Enough to give us you, yeah?"
Zayn wrinkles his nose.
"Ew," he groans, "Please tell me you aren't thinking about my parents - "
"God, no, now I am though. Christ," Liam huffs a laugh, pinching his side.
"Hey," Zayn complains, catching Liam's hand with his own. He clears his throat again, "God, I could really use some hot tea," he says wistfully.
"We could go back to - " Liam starts to sit up but Zayn shakes his head.
"No," he says, "No, let's just - Let's just sit awhile yeah?"
"But your voice - "
"Will heal," Zayn says patiently, "And besides, we have a bit of a break now, yeah?"
Oh, Liam thinks, heart sinking back to where it'd settled since Niall had told him about New York.
"Yeah," he mumbles, On second thought, sitting here awhile sounds perfect.
By the time he makes it home the sun is rising and Niall's getting ready for work. He's the only one awake.
"Are you just getting in - Hey," Niall's voice shifts from incredulous to kind, and he comes up and embraces Liam where Liam is swaying on his feet, tucking Liam's head against his shoulder with a warm hand behind his neck, "You're alright, Liam," he soothes, because Liam probably looks miserable, dead on his feet exhausted. "It's alright. C'mon, let's get you to bed."
"I have to. Mack's got school today, I've got to pack her lunch and - " Liam mumbles against his neck.
"I'll take care of it," Niall says, "I'll make sure she's ready for school, yeah?"
"You shouldn't have to do that. I was irresponsible, I should have - "
"Shut up," Niall says severely, pulling back to look him in the eye, "Liam. You're. You're allowed to be irresponsible sometimes okay? For gods' sake. Let me take you to bed."
Liam sighs. He's too tired to put up a fight, and the idea of falling into his own bed is too appealing, so he lets Niall lead him to his room with a warm hand in the small of his back and a kiss to his neck.
"Shirt and trousers?" Niall prompts, when Liam's toed off his shoes clumsily. Liam blinks blearily at him and then nods and obeys tiredly.
"Too old for late night rendezvous, huh?" Niall chuckles at him, after he's tucked Liam into bed. Liam squeezes his eyes shut but a tear escapes anyway and Niall sucks in a breath, kisses his forehead, "I love you," he tells him, "Sleep, okay? I love you so much."
"Lou - ?" he hears Niall say in a hushed voice through layers of consciousness, "No he's here. I don't know why you've encouraged him like this, Lou he'll only - " he sighs, "Yeah, no, I know. I know he is. Yeah, stop by later will you? No, it's pretty bad - "
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