(no subject)
Fic: Untimely Beginnings 1/?
Pairing(s): Zayn/Harry, Liam/Louis, Niall/OMC
Words: 2,487
Rating (by chapter): PG
Warnings: Boy hugging and that's about it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys and this is a work of fiction.
-Harry-
I was having a bad dream. Not just a ‘going to school naked dream’ either, which I don’t even really count as a bad dream anymore considering how often I walk around the house naked. It was more of a ‘oh my god, One Direction are splitting up’ dream. It doesn’t make sense that I am having this kind of dream, considering how well the band is doing. Since the X Factor finale a year ago, we’ve built up a massive fan base, have released a number one album and have just started preparations for our nationwide tour. However, I have been having these dreams quite frequently lately. Sometimes, they get so bad I wake up panting, in a sweat, with my sheets twisted painfully tight around me. Tonight is one of those nights.
I do what I always do when I have dreams such as this one. I untangle myself from my damp sheets, grunting quietly as I do so. They are absolutely drenched and I crinkle my nose in disgust as my nose registers the smell of sweat. They’ll definitely need a wash.
I don’t even consider waking Louis up, because he is sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room. If I were to wake him up like I used to, he wouldn’t sleep at all again for the rest of the night, then he’d practically pass out during rehearsals, which proved quite frustrating when we needed to practise for our impending tour. Instead, I tiptoe out of our shared room and across the hall, pushing the bedroom door adjacent to mine and Louis’ open gently.
I can hear faint snores coming from the bed, telling me straight away that Zayn is dead to the world. Creeping closer, I have to stifle a laugh at his position. His limbs are flung out in every which way, making him look like an incredibly tan, incredibly shirtless starfish. I pretend I haven’t been staring as I clap my hand over my mouth to quench the laugh that is about to spring out of me.
The sound the results in my doing so is much louder than the laugh would have been, however, and it sends Zayn shooting up into a sitting position.
“W-what?” He rubs his eyes sleepily, then seems to take in his surroundings properly as he spots me. “You OK, Harry?”
“Sorry. It was just a bad dream. It’s OK, I can go. Sorry I woke you.” Turning on my heel and heading for the door, I stop short when I hear Zayn get off of his bed and come over to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me back to the bed with him.
“Was it the same one?” Zayn is suddenly alert, one of his tanned hands resting on my stomach and rubbing it slightly. I shiver involuntarily and try to erase the feelings the simple touch is making me feel.
“Yes, the same one. But its ok, I can go.” I go to get off the bed and make it to the door this time when I hear just the faintest of whispers leave Zayn’s lips.
“Huh?” I grunt as I turn around to face Zayn once more.
“Please stay?” Zayn says louder this time. He opens his arms to me in an inviting hug, and without further thought on the matter, I am wrapped in his embrace after just two long strides back to his bed. I am practically sitting in his lap, I notice suddenly, and I shift sideways so suddenly that Zayn looks at me with an adorable little frown line in between his eyebrows, his face the picture of concern.
“What’s wrong?” Suddenly I think to myself, so what if I think Zayn is adorable? It means nothing. I am straight, and Zayn is probably the straightest guy in the band as it is. A friendly hug doesn’t mean anything. Wriggling closer again, I murmur against Zayn’s neck what could be heard as ‘nothing’ but probably come out sounding more like ‘mumphhhh’. He seems to get the message though, pulling me closer so we are flush together for shoulder to ankle.
I lean into him harder than I originally intended, causing him to fall backwards, taking me with him. I can’t be bothered moving though. Fuck what the others would undoubtedly think if they were to walk in on us right now. I am perfectly happy with my check pressed again Zayn’s, my legs twisted together with his. What’s better, Zayn doesn’t seem to care at all as he runs his hand up my torso and curls it into my hair.
Sighing contentedly in appreciation, I wriggle down a bit so I can rest my head on his bare chest, his heartbeat thumping rhythmically against my ear as he runs his hand gently through my hair, lulling me into the best sleep I’ve had in a while.
***
Slowly waking up, I groan slightly as I lift my head off of the warm rock beneath me and gaze lazily around my room. I don’t remember putting that poster up, though. In fact, I don’t remember putting any of these posters up. Wait, this isn’t my room. Where am I? Jerking upwards, I roll off of the too warm rock and land on the cold wooden floor.
“Fuck!” I begin to shiver instantly, craving the nice warm rock that I was resting on only seconds before. But what would a rock be doing in the house? Confused, I stand up, rubbing my arms. Glancing at the bed I just fell out of, it seems it wasn’t a rock at all, but Zayn, who is now blinking sleepily, feeling around his empty bed for the warmth that was rudely taken from him.
Not wanting to make things awkward by randomly hugging my half asleep friend, I turn around and search the floor for the doona I must have taken with me when I fell out of the bed. I find it wedged under the bed, bonding with the dust bunnies and stray pieces of clothing that have been forgotten under there. After retrieving it and dusting it off as best I can, I throw it over Zayn who looks as though he is already sound asleep again. I grin at him, as I gaze lazily at him. He looks like a gorgeous angel.
Oh god. I may possibly be this biggest idiot ever. I like my band mate. My very good-looking, very straight band mate. This isn’t good; this isn’t good at all. This could absolutely ruin the band if I let this get in the way of our rehearsing and how was I supposed to get a girlfriend if I was pining over my straight best friend?
I had never even thought of guys like this before. I’d always liked girls, I’d always dated girls; heck, I’d even slept with a few. So why was I suddenly very much crushing on one of my best friends? What had brought this on? All the sudden affection I was getting from him, probably. Yeah, that was it. It’ll pass.
A sudden moan and a flying limb had me tumbling out of my intense thoughts. “Oof!” Clutching my now burning crotch, I keel forward so far that my chest rests on the edge of the bed. I definitely hadn’t expected Zayn to jerk in his sleep and actually punch me in the crotch. God, I couldn’t breathe. Against my own will, I slid forward, my forehead connecting with the hard muscles situated on Zayn’s abdomen, causing the older boy to walk up suddenly and start coughing up a lung.
“What the hell?” Zayn is fully awake now, and as it would seem, very, very annoyed that he’s been waken from his beauty sleep. I laugh a little as I lift my head and look him in the eye.
“You OK?” I ask as I stand up a little straighter, my hand still on my burning crotch. Zayn shoots me a curious look, taking in my strained expression and posture.
“I think the real question here is are you OK?” He smirks as he says this, which makes my stomach feel all tingly. I seriously need to get my act together.
“Well, you kind of just punched me in the crotch, so I can safely say I have seen better days.” Zayn starts guffawing as soon as the words have left my lips, causing me to join in almost instantly.
“What’s all this noise about?” Liam is stood at Zayn’s bedroom door, a thick eyebrow raised in caution confusing. A sort of realisation appears on his face when he takes in Zayn and my laughing, and my hand resting on my now less throbbing crotch.
“I… punched Haz in the balls!” Zayn’s eyes are beginning to water now. It is definitely funny, but it isn’t that funny. I slap him on the back of the head, causing him to cough briefly before he begins laughing with a new vigor.
“So you’re laughing? Poor kid!” Liam scolds. “I’ll got get an ice-pack for you.” Liam chuckles to himself as he walks away, presumably to the kitchen.
“I am sorry, dude.” Zayn is serious now, all signs of his previous laughter seeming to have vanished into thin air. I smile at him, knowing full well my dimple is displaying itself proudly. I wonder if my smile has the same effect on him as his does on me. What if it does? What if Zayn feels the same way as I do? Wait, no. This is just a phase; I don’t actually like my band mate.
“It’s OK. Not like Louis hasn’t done it before.” At the mention of Louis’ name however, Zayn’s face darkens and closes off. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when Liam walks into Zayn’s room once more, only this time Louis is precariously balancing on his back, whilst waving a large bag of peas in the air.
“Sorry it took so long! Couldn’t find anything…You look fine now though. Typical.” Liam says, flashing us a smile so we know he isn’t actually mad. Not that he ever gets mad; Liam is the rock of the band, the one who is always calm and level-headed. He flings the bag of peas at me, and I catch it easily. I press it into my crotch gently, trying to jostle the sore muscle too much.
Liam turns his head to grin lopsidedly at Louis, who returns the smile as he hops effortlessly off of Liam’s back. Still smiling, Louis leans in and kisses Liam’s neck, and judging my Liam’s slightly pained expression, bites the sensitive skin as well.
“What was that for?” Liam is blushing furiously, his ears, neck and cheeks a bright red. He swats at Louis as if he is a fly, but misses as Louis darts just out of his reach. Louis laughs, dashing towards the door so Liam can’t try to hit him again without chasing after him.
“Why do you think? To make Danielle paranoid, of course!” Louis laughs in the childish way he always does, literally skipping out into the hallway and in the general direction of the living room. Liam joins in on the laughter, a wide grin almost splitting his face in two. He runs out of the room in pursuit of the still cackling Doncaster lad.
Zayn and I had been watching the exchange silently up until that then. I turn to Zayn and grin at him as it dawns on me what it was we just witnessed. “Do you think there is something…?”
“Looks like it. We’ll leave them to it though,” Zayn looks up at me through the dark sweep of eyelashes that frame his caramel orbs, causing my stomach do an almost painful series of flips. “So,” He sounds almost cautious now, as if what he is about to say might result in an unpleasant reaction. “Can I get a hug?”
Zayn’s never this affectionate with anyone, let alone me. I don’t understand the sudden need for constant touching between us, but I am certainly not going to complain. “Sure.”
His grin is so wide and instantaneous that I am practically forced to grin like a maniac too, even when he pulls me down so I am sprawled across his firm, tan chest. Instead of pulling away like I’d do with any of the other boys, save for Louis of course, I wriggle closer to him so my nose is pressed into the dip where his neck meets his shoulder.
The smell of his cologne is intoxicating, and I let out a muffled groan without intending to. Luckily, Niall arrives at the door before any awkwardness can form. Or so I thought.
“You guys need to get ready- Um. I can come back?” His voice squeaks on the last word, as if he has seen something he shouldn’t have and is eager to make a hasty retreat.
“Niall, wait. I didn’t think we had anything on today?” Pulling myself off of Zayn somewhat reluctantly, I sit up and rack my brain to see if I can think of anything we might have on today. I can’t think of anything, so I raise an eyebrow at Niall, awaiting his answer.
“Uncle Simon got us a last minute interview with Sugarscape, and it’s in half an hour. So yeah, you kind of need to get ready.” Niall grins awkwardly, takes one last look at the slightly compromising position and dashes out the door because I can say anything that could possibly save the situation.
I gently tug Zayn’s hands away from where they’ve been resting on my waist and yank myself up so I am standing. I smile sheepishly at Zayn as I try to straighten my hair out somewhat, so it looks like less of a bird’s nest.
“Well, we’d better start getting ready.”
Without a further customary glance in Zayn’s direction, I quickly walk out of his room and into the bathroom across the hall. Closing and locking the door, I rest my sweaty palms on the cool countertop and take in my flustered reflection. My hair is sticking out at every angle possible and my eyes look very Christmassy, the red surrounding my bright green eyes showing how little sleep I really got.
Mentally kicking myself, I decide here and now to stop staring at Zayn like a love-struck fool and focus on promoting the band and the interview I should be getting ready for.
Quickly undressing and stepping into the steadily warming stream of water, I let my mind wander. I thought about Zayn’s perfect hair, his bottomless eyes, and his gorgeous lips. I stood there for more than fifteen minutes before I realized I needed to be somewhere.
We were half an hour late to the interview, and I didn’t even mind.
AN: All criticisms on this would be greatly appreciated!