12
~O~
Niall almost would have preferred it if Zayn had just left, like the time he kicked the dark-haired boy out for the night, but no, instead, it was as if none of themhad ever happened because Zayn, well, he just went right back to his old ways of partying and fucking.
He didn’t even know what to do and it fucking sucked because he had these feelings kind of bubbling up inside of him and he wanted to tell Zayn how he felt, but the other lad clearly didn’t really care all that much.
Or seemingly at all, which was made very apparent by the fact that Zayn was clearly and blatantly fucking someone in his room quite loudly.
Niall wasn’t even ashamed to say that he was ragingly hard and also bawling his eyes out in his own room.
And he couldn’t even bring himself to have a wank because it felt like touching himself would be like giving up on Zayn, and Niall wasn’t ready to give up on Zayn quite yet.
“Fuck, Zayn, yes, right there.”
The moan was loud, ringing right through the wall separating their rooms, and it was just enough to push Niall over the edge.
He just couldn’t take it anymore because Zayn was everywhere: he was in Niall’s sheets, the scent of his cologne and his natural smell lingering so that every time Niall curled up, wanting to get away from the other lad, he was taken back to a time when they’d cuddle up together under the covers.
All because Niall could smell Zayn in his sheets.
Zayn was in Niall’s text books, the memories of Niall trying to study while Zayn tried to distract him stuck between the words and the pages, flitting through the paper and glaring at him through even just the title of the book.
All because Niall could remember Zayn’s hands when he studied.
Zayn was in Niall’s closet, his shirts hung on Niall’s hangers and his boxer briefs mingled with Niall’s on the floor and in the drawers. His pants and his shirts and his shoes and his socks were all over Niall’s room, just sitting there, mocking and laughing at Niall whenever he glanced down.
Niall didn’t see anything; he didn’t even feel anything other than cold pain.
He just wanted something to hurt like he did because Zayn obviously didn’t feel anything, and if Zayn didn’t feel anything for Niall, then maybe he would feel something if Niall ruined his stuff.
So, without even realizing what he was doing, Niall ruined everything.
It started with the sheets.
He yanked them off the bed; using muscles he didn’t know he had to rip the cloth in half with a loud tear.
He balled them up and threw them behind him, where they hit the door and splayed out on the floor.
Almost like a sacrifice.
The books were next.
He could still hear moans coming from Zayn’s room and he just wanted them to stop.
So, he threw the books at the wall.
One after another.

He didn’t wince as his senior seminar book tore right down the middle.
Barely even noticed that his biology book had dented the wall with a loud bang.
He didn’t even realize that pages were raining down around him.
After that he didn’t see anything past the tears in his eyes.
All he wanted was everything to be gone.
He tore through his room like a tornado, taking clothes from his closet and throwing them around.
He was just so numb and aching and there was absolutely nothing he could do because Zayn was still next-door fucking and touching someone in a way that had been so special to Niall, but to Zayn was just nothing.
Was that all Niall was?
Nothing?
He picked up his favorite shoes- the green vans- and looked at them blankly.
Zayn had loved these shoes too, saying they were representative of Niall’s Irish roots.
In that moment, Niall hated those shoes more than anything.
He threw one of them at the wall, and it just fell to the ground with a quiet thump.
It wasn’t enough.
He wanted to ruin the shoes.
So he picked them up and threw them again.
But they still landed on the floor unharmed.
He threw them again and again, but the shoes didn’t even scuff slightly.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Niall didn’t even pause at the sound of Zayn’s voice.
He just threw the shoes at the wall.
It felt kind of good, the motion of throwing something, and Niall didn’t even feel his arm beginning to ache or the wetness on his face.
He just wanted the shoes to rip and tear and break like he was.
“Nialler, those are your favorite shoes. What are you doing?”
Niall didn’t acknowledge Zayn’s use of his nickname, nor did he respond to the question, other than to throw the shoes at the wall again and again.
Finally, the shoe broke, the sole of the shoe falling right off from the constant beating.
It didn’t make Niall feel any better.
He picked up the shoe, looking at the rip in the material, and suddenly, all of the rage that had been simmering down came back full force, but this time, at Zayn.
He was just so angry because he cared about Zayn so much and Zayn didn’t care at all.
When he realized that Zayn was still standing there, stark naked, his blue eyes narrowed, and he gripped the shoe tighter in his hand.
Before he realized what he was doing, the green van was hurtling in the air toward the naked lad, heading directly toward its intended target.
Of course, Zayn sort of reacted, and it didn’t quite hit where Niall had wanted (his dick), and instead, whacked the dark-haired boy on the thigh.
“Ow, fuck, what was that for?” Zayn screeched, moving a hand to his leg and looking at Niall with wide eyes.
Niall didn’t care, and he just glared back.
He looked wild, in that moment, his blue eyes gleaming with anger, and blonde hair messy.
They locked eyes for a moment before Niall was bending over, picking up one of Zayn’s socks.
“You can have your damn socks back.”
Niall threw the sock.
“And your boxers.”
Niall threw the boxers.
“And your shirts.”
Niall picked up a pile of clothing, tossing it in Zayn’s direction, not even bothering to get the material close to the other lad.
“And your pillow.”
Niall threw the pillow, which was actually his, but Zayn had claimed it as his own, so it may as well have been Zayn’s.
“Take my bloody text books, too. I can’t even look at them anymore.”
He threw the books with even less effort and they barely even got a foot away from where he stood.
Niall’s eyes were bloodshot and his nose dripping with snot, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care anymore, not when Zayn was just looking at him blankly.
He could vaguely hear someone moving around in the room beside them, but it barely even registered.
“Take it all,” Niall said, tossing another sock toward Zayn.
He just wanted to get away from it, from Zayn and the memories and just everything of which the apartment reminded him.
Niall saw how Zayn reached for him, hand extended, but he had already picked up the other green van and was toying with it in his hand.
“But you can never take my heart back.”
Niall threw the other shoe, this time hitting his target, and he stormed by Zayn, who had sunk to the floor, groaning and holding his groin.
~O~
When Niall returned to the apartment a couple hours later, Zayn wasn’t there, not that the blonde expected him to be.
There was, however, a plate of food on the table, clearly left for Niall.
If he had eaten the food, or done anything other than spare a short glance at the plate, he would have seen the piece of paper next to the glass, and read the two scribbled words.
I’m sorry.
But Niall didn’t see the paper, nor did he eat the food, and instead, he just walked into his room, prepared to clean up the damage he had afflicted.
Except, his room was spotless.
It was as if he hadn’t even been in there.
The bed was made, his clothes were all hung up, and there wasn’t even dirty laundry on the floor.
The only evidence that he had thrown his hissy fit earlier was how his textbooks were sitting mangled on his desk, the pages arranged in a more orderly fashion, but still clearly torn.
And finally, he saw the box sitting on the middle of the bed.
He didn’t even know what to say, or do, because Zayn had clearly cleaned up, and really, Niall didn’t know why.
This whole mess was his fault, after all, a fact that Liam continued to remind him all night, when Niall had appeared on his doorstep, still crying slightly.
And it really was.
He hadn’t told Sean about Zayn and their relationship (in fact, he still hadn’t and Sean was coming home in five days), and he hadn’t told Zayn that Sean was coming home until it was too late.
So, yes, it was his fault and he was able to admit that.
Of course, it didn’t stop Niall from hurting at Zayn’s behavior, but he knew his own actions earlier were pretty unwarranted.
And now, as he opened the box that was sitting on his bed, and pulled out a brand new pair of green vans- in his exact size, nonetheless- he couldn’t help but regret what he had said to Zayn earlier.
Zayn had already taken Niall’s heart and Niall knew he wouldn’t be getting it back anytime soon.
~O~

13
“Hiya Nialler!” Sean’s voice echoed in Niall’s room from where it streamed out of Niall’s computer. They were three days away from Sean’s arrival home, and well, Niall decided to man up a little.
Zayn hadn’t been home in two days- since Niall’s temper tantrum/meltdown/when he essentially lost his shit and went crazy- and Niall decided that he needed to talk to Sean because, well, he wanted Zayn back.
He didn’t really even realize how much he wanted Zayn back when the other lad was there because Zayn was still there and even if he was acting like Niall didn’t exist, it was still Zayn and Niall was still able to look at him, and they still argued over stupid shit like they had before.
But with Zayn gone, the apartment had suddenly felt too quiet and too empty and Niall just wanted Zayn back, even if it meant dumb arguments and listening to the other lad fuck someone into oblivion.
He didn’t even care if it was he who was being fucked into oblivion (okay maybe he did but beside the point) because really he just wanted Zayn back.
He wanted to have Zayn’s dirty clothes mingle with his on the floor.
He wanted Zayn to cook him dinner when he was hungry.
He wanted Zayn to distract him while he tried to study.
He wanted Zayn to cuddle him and he wanted Zayn’s soft breath to lull him to sleep.
He also wanted Zayn to fuck him again, but really, that wasn’t the main reason he wanted Zayn home.
He just wanted Zayn home because somewhere amidst the sex and the blowjobs and handjobs he had kind of lost the Niall who didn’t consider Zayn a vital part of his life.
And yeah, he could admit that Zayn was a vital part of his life, and he felt as if a large part of him was missing without the dark-haired lad there.
Which was why he had asked Sean to skype.
“Hey Seanie,” Niall responded, and he smiled at his old friend, comforted that Sean still looked the same and hadn’t changed too much. It was almost as if his life had changed without Sean and he was worried that Sean would have changed just as much without him.
And maybe he had, but Niall couldn’t worry about that now, not when he needed to give Sean the news.
“How’s it going? Three days left now!”
Sean looked excited at the prospect of coming home, and Niall struggled to squash the guilt that bubbled up inside of him.
He had decided though, that he had this chance with Zayn, a chance to have someone special in his life, and if he gave it up now, he would never be able to forgive himself.
Surely Sean would understand that, right?
Sean, who had always lifted up Niall’s hopes by telling him that his princess would come one day?
And yeah, Zayn wasn’t his princess and who knows if they’ll even have the happy ever after that Niall imagined, but if he didn’t take this chance, then he wouldn’t know if Zayn could even be his Prince.
So he wanted to take the chance.
Sean, who could read him like a book, even over skype, was able to see that Niall wasn’t quite his usual, happy self.
“Nialler? What’s wrong?” Sean asked slowly, eyes narrowing to get a better look at his friend.
While Niall had at least showered before their skype date, it was still quite clear that he hadn’t been sleeping well, nor eating much, and Sean could obviously see this.
Niall toyed with his hands a bit, trying to remember the last time he felt this uncomfortable around Sean.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Sean tried again, attempting to catch Niall’s eyes, although it was kind of futile as Niall’s blue orbs were trained on his hands, watching as his thin, pale fingers wove together.
They looked better contrasting with Zayn’s tan ones, though, and it was that thought that gave him the motivation to look up at Sean and finally speak.
“So, erm- I guess, well, there are a lot of things I haven’t told you, about the past few months, that is,” Niall started, and he was nervous, which in turn made Sean nervous, but nothing bad had happened yet, which calmed Niall’s nerves a little.
“That’s okay,” Sean granted with a nod. “You don’t have to tell me everything, Nialler.”
Niall sighed because while Sean was speaking truth, this whole thing with Zayn was something he felt he should have told his friend. In fact, he should have told Louis and Harry, who were friends with Zayn as well.
If he thought about it, only Liam knew, and well, Zayn, but that was kind of a given when Zayn was the one fucking him and such.
Niall supposed it’d be a little odd if Zayn didn’t realize they had been fucking.
“Really, Nialler. I mean it. You don’t have to tell me every little detail of your life, yeah?”
Niall nodded in agreement, but he spoke anyway.
“But I should tell you the big details, yeah? You’re one of my best mates and I don’t like keeping stuff from you,” Niall said honestly, begging with his eyes for Sean to understand.
He kept speaking before Sean could interrupt though.
“So, basically, when you told me you were going to be gone for the semester, I needed a roommate, right? Zayn was the only one who came forward, and I was desperate. And like, yeah, we didn’t get along at all and he was a right twat for a while, but then, I guess, well, erm- wefuckedoneday.”
Niall paused to take a breath, and he had a hard time meeting Sean’s eyes, only this time out of embarrassment. He knew he didn’t have to be embarrassed that Zayn was a guy, especially given his history with Sean, but for some reason, admitting this part of his relationship with Zayn was more difficult than he thought it would be.
“Sorry, what was that last part? You mumbled a bit,” Sean asked, and he couldn’t have been joshing around or like pulling Niall’s leg because he was staring at Niall intently, and seemed genuinely lost as to what Niall had said.
So, Niall sighed, took a breath, and tried again.
“Wefuckedoneday.”
And Sean just stared at him.

Niall got a little worried that maybe he had broken his friend or something, but then Sean was coughing and spluttering and left the screen in search of a glass of water.
Oh lordy, what had he done.
Soon enough, though, Sean returned, a bottle of water in tow, and he seemed quite calmer, despite the red tint shading his cheeks.
“So, uhm, you and Zayn, uhm, okay. Okay,” Sean stuttered, but he didn’t seem too judgmental or anything, just a little surprised, or maybe a lot shocked.
Niall gave a tentative smile and ran a hand through his hair.
“Go on,” Sean urged, seeming more curious than anything now as he regarded Niall with wide eyes because he hadn’t ever seen his friend like this…like…ever.
Niall had always been kind of hopeless when it came to romance or anything regarding romantic or sexual relationships, and now, well, Sean could see that something was different about his friend.
“We got in a fight last week,” Niall let out, and it was a total relief, being able to tell Sean about Zayn and have Sean understand, but he hadn’t quite overcome the largest hurdle of the conversation, and he desperately needed to. So, he continued, “We got in a fight because I hadn’t told him that you were coming home yet, and like, I guess I was scared to tell him, and I hadn’t told you about him yet because I just hadn’t found the right time and didn’t know what I would even say. Like, ‘Hey, Seanie! You know the roommate who I hated? Well, we’re having sex and stuff and I think I really like him.’ I just- didn’t know how to tell you that, but we got in a fight, and he hasn’t been home in two days because I may have told him he needed to find a new place and then threw a temper tantrum at him, when all of this was my fault, but like, he’s my prince, Seanie. Or he could be. I dunno.”
Niall ended his rant by looking dejectedly at the keyboard, and he looked so sad and young and Sean wished he were home already so he could give the blonde a good cuddle like when they were younger.
And Sean understood exactly what Niall was trying to tell him because that’s how they were and a few months apart couldn’t change that.
“And you want to ask me to find another place, yeah?” Sean said softly, and Niall was so afraid because that was exactly what he wanted, but he didn’t want to hurt Sean, and wait, why the fuck was Sean smiling at him like that?
It was Niall’s turn to stare and cough and splutter, and he did all three until Sean burst out laughing at him.
“It’s not funny, Seanie!” Niall protested, but he couldn’t help laughing along because Sean wasn’t mad or hurt and that was probably the best thing that had happened in this entire situation.
He couldn’t lose Sean and Zayn all at once.
“Well, my lucky leprechaun, I have a plan and it will put neither me nor your sexy, douchey lover out of house and home.”
Niall groaned, Sean’s plans were never particularly great, but he was desperate, so he listened anyway.
~O~
Niall was attempting to cook a simple fry up- and failing miserably- when he heard the door jiggle a little, and then unlock and open. He figured it was Liam because Zayn hadn’t been home for too long, and to say he was shocked to find Zayn standing in the living room was definitely an understatement, and yet, there Zayn was, looking as pretty as ever in his favorite leather jacket.
“Ow, fuck, shit,” Niall turned away from Zayn to turn off the stove and shove his hand under cold water. He had accidentally let it drop onto the pan when he saw Zayn, and fuck if it didn’t hurt.
With his back turned, he missed the way Zayn moved to help him and stopped himself halfway to the kitchen.
Once his hand cooled off a little and he confirmed that he hadn’t burnt himself too, too bad, he went to the cabinet and put some healing crème and a bandage on it, just to be safe, all the while, ignoring Zayn’s presence.
It worked for a while, sort of, but Niall wasn’t very good at pretending and he was fully aware of Zayn just watching him.
He shoved his hands together in an attempt to hide the way they shook, and moved back to the stove, where his fry up lay limp and was still dribbling.
He really needed to learn how to cook, especially simple things like a freaking egg fry up.
He was going to be hopeless without Zayn.
As if Zayn read his mind, he coughed, alerting the blonde once more of his presence, and then, moved until he reached one of kitchen chairs.
“Niall,” Zayn began, and Niall flinched because Zayn’s voice sounded distant and different.
He found himself blinking unwanted tears that were completely unwarranted and he kept his back to Zayn.
Shouldn’t Zayn be in his position?
Zayn sighed, and began arranging the chairs and pushing them into their regular spots.
Niall hadn’t been very orderly in the past couple of days.
“Look, Niall,” Zayn started again, but he let his thought fall short and didn’t continue the sentence.
Niall still didn’t turn around.
He had lost his appetite suddenly, and moved to throw away the dribbling egg fry up in the trash.
It was almost as if Zayn wasn’t there, but he was, and Niall was so aware of him that it hurt deeply, cutting into his gut and sending shivers down his spine.
He clung to the counter in an attempt to balance himself as his legs shook and felt wobbly.
“I found another place,” Zayn said suddenly, and Niall turned at that, blue eyes wide and round and definitely filled with tears because-
“What?” Niall croaked, eyes glassy and cheeks heating up.
The room felt static, and the tension was palpable, at least on Niall’s end.
He could practically feel the hairs on his neck standing up in attention and he kind of wanted to sink in on himself.
“I found another place, so, like, you don’t have to worry or anything. I’ll pick up my stuff in a couple days,” Zayn shrugged nonchalantly, and then, he was walking out of the kitchen and out the door, gone, leaving Niall alone once more in their once-shared apartment.
Niall didn’t even get to try Sean’s plan, which was admittedly better than he had expected, and the flat had never felt as empty as it did in that moment.
~O~

Niall was kind of functioning, if functioning meant sitting on the couch dressed in actual clothing while blankly staring at the wall.
So, maybe he was barely functioning, but he couldn’t find the will power to get up and go do something, even simple things like showering, eating, or peeing.
It just took a lot of effort and sometimes, such as now, exerting that effort was just too much work.
He had been alone in the apartment for two days, only leaving to go to class, and he had avidly been avoiding everyone.
This didn’t mean that he wasn’t attached to his phone, though, because he always had the device clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he waited for a text that wouldn’t come.
He practically jumped with shock every time it vibrated, but was disappointed when the one message he so desperately wanted wouldn’t come.
And, to make things worse, Liam had taken to texting him a lot, which got his hopes up, only to have disappointment crash down and spread everywhere.
Obviously, he was waiting for Zayn to text him, but the dark-haired boy had cut contact completely since telling Niall he had found another place, so Niall knew he was waiting in vain.
However, it didn’t stop him from hoping that maybe Zayn felt the same way he did and would give in and text him.
So, imagine Niall’s surprise when Zayn’s name flashed on his phone screen, indicating a text message.
Flipping his phone open quickly, he read, holding his breath all the while.
[From: Zayn Malik (; 6:21 PM]
I’m coming by to pick up my shit.
And…that was it.
That was it?
“Ugh,” Niall groaned, flopping over on his stomach and shoving his face into the rough material until he could barely breathe, the air all warm and stuffy as it went down his throat.
He was in the state where he honestly had no idea how to feel.
He had all these emotions intertwining and mixing, but it was just hard to make sense of it all.
There was anger, both at himself for not telling Zayn sooner and at Zayn for overreacting.
There was sadness for losing Zayn, who had been one of the brightest points in his life so far, even if he hadn’t truly realized it at the time.
There was hope (like 0.0000000000001% of hope) that Zayn would come into the flat to “collect” his stuff, only to confess his undying love.
And then, there was that stupid, annoying, frustrating, tingly, warm feeling of extreme like, or fancying, or adoration- or love- for Zayn.
Maybe he should just stay on the couch for the rest of his life.
Honestly, Niall felt as if he could definitely do that.
The couch was comfortable, it was warm, and it didn’t ask for any feelings or justanything in return.
Niall groaned again.
What was he even doing?
He didn’t move, though, not even when the key turned in the lock and he heard the door open and Zayn walk into the flat.
It was odd, how he could still feel Zayn’s burning gaze without even looking, but god did he feel the way Zayn’s dark eyes once-overed him.
Niall felt as if he were on fire under Zayn’s inspection.
Zayn coughed, “Erm, Niall?”
Niall didn’t respond, though, because really, what was he even supposed to say?
“Hey, Zayn. I really like you.”
“Please don’t do this?”
“You’re a freaking prick, but I miss you anyway.”
“Stay with me?”
No, Niall couldn’t say any of that.

No, Niall couldn’t say any of that.
He couldn’t even bring himself to try the plan Sean told him to do because he felt so goddamn stupid about it all.
Zayn obviously didn’t like him.
“I’m just going to get my stuff, then. I’ll leave the key on the table before I go,” Zayn continued after a long pause.
Niall heard him clomp his way to his room, and imagined Zayn would probably be wearing his tan, steel-toed construction boots that he wore all the time.
Zayn made several trips into his room and probably down to his car, if the constant opening and closing of the doors was any indicator.
After Zayn made about five trips and had gone back into his room, Niall was hit with a sudden urge to get up and run to the other lad, but it was as if he just couldn’t get his muscles to respond to his mind and he found himself glued to the couch.
He made it so that he was sitting up finally, staring at Zayn’s door, which was closed shut.
“I like you,” Niall murmured softly at the door, jumping when it swung open suddenly and replacing the white wood with Zayn, holding a box.
Niall’s blue eyes widened in surprise because shit he wasn’t sure if he could tell Zayn that, like telling Zayn’s door was one thing, but telling Zayn himself was an entirely different story.
“What was that?” Zayn asked, eyeing him suspiciously with his eyes narrowed tightly until Niall was practically squirming from where he sat on the couch.
The dark-haired boy looked as if he was about to smirk, but he caught himself and his mouth turned down into a frown instead.
“I- uhm- no- I- nothing,” Niall muttered, still looking at Zayn, who just stood there and stared back. When the blonde looked into the room behind Zayn, he could see that it was completely empty and bare, as if no one had been there.
Completely wiped of any and all memories.
With Niall’s eyes off of him, the dark-haired lad moved to the door, trying to walk quieter.
Niall could only think of how much would change now.
Zayn threw down his keys onto the table.
Maybe things would be better this way?
No memories, nothing visible.
It didn’t feel that way, though, because all Niall could think of is how he didn’t and couldn’t be without Zayn.
Much like he did when he first walked in, Zayn coughed.
“I- I guess this is-“ Zayn began, but he stopped himself and seemed to have a mental argument before looking Niall directly in the eyes.
The look Zayn gave him made Niall want to scream.
He could practically see his future ahead of him, the future with Zayn, filled with happiness and happy endings, the one he was about to lose.
It was well and truly over.
“Goodbye, Niall.”
The door closed behind Zayn and all that was left was the faint smell of his cologne.
It was all such a joke, to think that he could have finally found his happy ending or his ‘prince’ or whatever that bullshit was.
Such a complete, utter fucking joke, and he just felt like giving up.
Or perhaps, he felt like drinking.
Okay, he definitely felt like drinking.
And now, with that decision made, it seemed as if his body was completely okay with responding, and he felt his feet carrying his body to the kitchen, where he immediately grabbed the dubbed ‘special occasion’ bottle of rum.
It was called this because it was the strongest, most potent alcohol he owned.
He didn’t even bother getting a shot glass or a cup because, if he were being honest with himself, there was only like a quarter of the bottle left (closer to a half than to empty) and he really wanted to get completely shitfaced.
So, his solution was to just drink straight from the bottle.
The liquid burned as it slid down his throat, but not as bad as Zayn’s gaze burned.
Niall was sure if anything would even burn as bad as Zayn’s gaze burned.
He just wanted to forget but Zayn was everywhere and was flying around his head and flying around the apartment.
He could see Zayn’s hair painted on the walls and Zayn’s fingerprints in the kitchen.
He drank more.
And more.
And more.
And more until the bottle was empty and he stumbled to the trash and threw it out before making his way to the couch.
He really could live on the couch.
Even with the alcohol numbing his thoughts, Zayn was fighting his way to the haze and Niall couldn’t get him out of his brain.
It was as if the alcohol was just fueling the fire Zayn burned into him and it was growing and growing out of control, flickering and licking at his skin and veins until he had no choice.
He just needed to tell Zayn.
If he were sober, he probably wouldn’t have had the courage to do it.
He wouldn’t even have thought about it for more than one second before riding it off as a completely stupid and idiotic idea.
But, well, the ‘special occasion’ rum was running hot through his veins and he just needed to tell Zayn.
He picked up his phone, dialing the number he knew by heart and waiting as it rung and rung and rung.
And when Zayn didn’t pick up, well, there was only one thing he could do, right?
So, he left a message.
“Zayn, Zee, Zayner. Fuck. I can’t- I can’t even like, find the words to say right now. I just, I’ve been, like, burning. Yeah. I’m burning. You burnt me, did you know that? When you came by today, you just looked at me and set me on fire. And it- it fucking hurts. Like I can feel the fire on my skin and it’s in my blood and in my head and in my heart and in my toes and fingers and it’s so goddam hot. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hate you for walking out that door, but I can’t really hate you because I think you might be my prince and how can you hate your happy ever after? I just- I want you back home. Yeah, I want you home. Home with me. Because home isn’t without me, or wait- no- home isn’t without you. And I- fuck- what am I even doing?”
Niall ended the call suddenly as he realized how stupid he was being.
What was he even thinking?
Zayn didn’t want anything to do with him?
Didn’t this afternoon make that clear enough?
Niall hit himself on the head with a loud smack and he didn’t even feel it as his forehead grew red in the shape of a handprint because someone was knocking on the door and he was jumping to his feet because was it possible that Zayn got his message and had come back?
He ran to the door (more like stumbled because he seriously couldn’t walk in a straight line at this point even if he tried his hardest) and threw it open.
“Oh, it’s you,” Niall slumped his shoulders as he met the eyes of his best friend, who he hadn’t seen in a couple months, but wasn’t exactly the person he wanted to see at this moment.
“Well, hiya to you, Nialler. I’ve missed you so much, too! Thank you for the warm welcome,” Sean replied sarcastically, eyeing him suspiciously before leaning forward and sniffing the air. “Been drinking without me, huh?”
Sean dropped the bag in his hand and propped the door open with it, stepping forward and grabbing Niall by the arm as he swayed a bit on his feet.
Niall barely registered as Sean led him into his room and pushed him on the bed, pulling the covers around his body tightly.
He did recall, though, that his phone was still in his hand and that Zayn hadn’t called back yet.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” Sean whispered softly, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek and running a hand through his blonde hair.
“He didn’t answer,” Niall muttered before turning his head and promptly falling asleep.
*
Niall woke up, head pounding and tongue feeling like sand paper, and his phone was ringing loudly, the vibrations pulsing against his bedside table obnoxiously.
He didn’t remember even getting in bed.
“’Lo,” Niall grumbled, his voice rough and throat scratchy as he tried to cough the sleep out of it. Why was he even awake?
He remembered bits and pieces of the night before, but mainly, he recalled the message he left for Zayn.
How embarrassing.
The phone line was silent for a while, and Niall almost hung up, but he could hear someone on the other line, breathing, which was kind of creepy, but his hungover mind didn’t really register that.
And then, “Did you mean it?”
~O~

Niall didn’t hesitate with his answer.
“Yes.”
“Let me in then, tosser. I don’t have a key anymore.”
Niall jumped out of bed, head spinning as he moved too quickly, and he threw on some clothes as fast as he could before gulping down a glass of water that sat on his bedside table (courtesy of Sean), along with an Advil.
He couldn’t even believe that this was actually happening and had to pinch himself to make sure he was awake and not dreaming.
After a full minute of aimlessly standing in his room while pinching himself, Niall realized that Zayn had told him to let him inside, which meant…holy shit, Zayn was here?
Niall stumbled to the front door, throwing it open as if scared Zayn would have left, and he let out a great heaving sigh when he saw that Zayn was, in fact, standing there still.
And then, he stared.
He just stared at Zayn as if it were the first time ever seeing him, and he took in every aspect of the dark-haired lad’s appearance, from his still-present steel-toed construction boots to the peak of his sculpted cheekbones.
“Nialler?” Zayn asked tentatively, looking at the blonde with questioning eyes, and Niall thought for a moment that Zayn was studying him just as intently, but then, “What happened to your forehead?”
Niall stood there dumbstruck because he didn’t think anything happened to his forehead, or at least he didn’t notice anything different?
“Nothing?” Niall questioned backed, confusion evident as he did a little smirk/sneer/headshake and tilted his head to the side so that he looked like a golden lab puppy trying to find the ball that was right in front of it.
Zayn raised his eyebrows, and grabbed Niall by the wrist, tugging him into the apartment and holy shit, Zayn was touching him voluntarily and what in the world did Niall do to get this sort of reaction?
Niall stumbled into the bathroom after the dark-haired lad and followed Zayn’s eyes to look into the mirror, and oh lord, no, what in the world, how was this his life?
“Did someone hurt you?” Zayn asked seriously, his voice low and almost dangerous, making Niall think that maybe he actually could hold up his ‘badboy’ persona.
So, Niall just laughed because seriously? He hadn’t even left the flat for more than ten minutes in the past five days, which if he thought about it was really quite sad, and there was no way he could have gotten in an actual fight because let’s face it, he’d run away if he were caught in that type of situation.
Zayn was now looking at him like he had three heads or some shit and he tried to calm himself down, only to erupt in another fit of laughter.
“Are you okay?” Zayn’s voice was a little louder as he spoke this time and he set a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, trying to halt his incessant laughing, which was actually kind of terrifying because he was like laughing, but looked extremely pained at the same time.
When Niall calmed down enough, he took a deep breath and met Zayn’s brown eyes, which were looking at him worriedly.
“I didn’t get in a fight,” Niall finally replied, not really wanting to explain because honestly, the voicemail was embarrassing enough and he really didn’t want to dig himself deeper into his pit of shame.
“Then, what happened?” Zayn interrogated exasperatedly, retracting his hand from where it was on Niall’s shoulder, leaving a cold spot.
Niall just blushed and shook his head.
“It isn’t important,” he replied earnestly, hoping that Zayn would just drop it.
What was he even doing here anyway?
Niall was about to ask, but Zayn interrupted, questioning him again.
“Nialler, you have a red print in the shape of a hand and you expect me to just drop it?”
Zayn sighed heavily, shaking his head and if his hair hadn’t had so much gel in it, his quiff probably would have shook all over the place, but it seemed as if the dark-haired boy had emptied an entire bottle of gel, so his hair didn’t move at all.
It was sort of fascinating, really.
“It’s really nothing exciting,” Niall mumbled, bringing a hand to his forehead and rubbing the red skin softly, wincing.
“Well, then, why can’t you just tell me?” Zayn demanded, removing Niall’s hand so that they were looking right into each other’s eyes and Niall could see something akin to annoyance bubbling in Zayn’s brown orbs.
“S’embarrassing, all right?” Niall snapped, and shit, no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. They were going to make up and live happily ever after together and this, this was definitely not how it was supposed to start.
Zayn stared at him for a moment, seemingly inspecting the rest of his body for signs of a fight, and then, as if a light bulb went off in his head, he began to smirk slowly.
Zayn took a step forward and Niall took a step back until his back was against the sink.
The dark-haired lad looked predatory.
“Nialler,” Zayn murmured, leaning in as if he was about to kiss the blonde and Niall could taste the mint on Zayn’s breath. “Did you…” Zayn paused, moving as if to kiss him, but he swooped to the side at the last minute and bit Niall’s earlobe instead before finishing the sentence, “…slap yourself?”
Niall froze against Zayn and that was all it took to have the other lad laughing loudly, bending over and clutching his stomach.
“I- I can’t even-“ Zayn spluttered in between laughs, trying to keep a straight face and utterly failing, while Niall looked on, beet red and trying to figure out how this was actually his life.
He sighed when Zayn collapsed to the floor.
All he wanted to do was tell Zayn how he actually felt, maybe get rejected, but hopefully have Zayn admit his own feelings, and then, go on with their lives and be perfect little…okay, he had no idea where that train of thought was going because he could have sworn he was about to think ‘princesses,’ but there was actually no way in hell he, or Zayn could be princesses, much less perfect little princesses.
Although….Zayn in a princess costume would be quite hilarious…

“Niall?” Zayn was suddenly peering up at him, and when the fuck did Zayn get below him like that?
Niall raised his eyebrows, feeling as if the situation had somehow reversed from a couple minutes previous.
“Yes?”
Zayn gazed at him, contemplating his next words for eons (it was actually only about fifteen seconds) before pinching his eyes shut, as if he couldn’t physically speak with them open.
“Did you mean it?” Zayn asked, and his voice was so soft, so quiet, so unsure that all Niall could think about was how much he wanted to hold the dark-haired lad boy close and tell him everything would be all right.
And while he already answered the question earlier when they were on the phone, it was somehow so much bigger right now, right here, as Zayn lay on the floor of the bathroom and Niall leaned against the sink.
“Yes,” Niall breathed out, and Zayn’s eyes snapped open and his face erupted in a wide grin before he scrambled to his feet.
Niall expected a hug or maybe a kiss, but Zayn did neither and only took his hand and pulled him to the couch.
It was weirdly unromantic, but Zayn sat down and pulled Niall onto his lap, not seeming to care about the facts or actions of the scene.
Niall nuzzled his head into the crook of Zayn’s neck and pressed a soft kiss to the skin, enjoying the familiarity and comforting smell.
He immediately sat back, though, struck with the thought that he should do what he should have done a week ago.
“Zayn?” and Niall couldn’t believe he was about to do this because he was Niall Horan and he straight and he liked girls but this was Zayn he was talking to.
Zayn nodded and stilled under Niall’s body.
"I just-I-" Niall grabbed Zayn’s hand and stopped it from sneaking up his shirt because lord knows if Zayn’s hand went up his shirt he wouldn’t be able to ask this, much less think straight (no pun intended).
"Will you move in with me?"
He didn’t realize how stupid it sounded until he said it out loud but then it was too late to take the question back and Zayn was smiling and laughing at him and wait- Zayn was smiling and laughing at him?
"I thought we already tried that, babe? Plus, there’s nowhere for me to stay."
Niall didn’t know what to say because he remembered that Zayn was actually properly speaking to him for the first time in days and that alone was kind of blowing his mind but he needed Zayn to say yes.
So he explained sheepishly next, “Like share-a-room move in.”
"Are you trying to pull me, Horan?"
Niall half-nodded because yeah, he kind of was and this territory was foreign for him because he hadn’t done this with a guy before, or anyone for that matter.
"Is this your way of trying to get me back in your bed?"
Niall turned red at that and of course Zayn was lifting his hips up so that their groins rubbed together and smirking, but it was a calming smirk and didn’t make his blood boil, no, it made him sure that everything was going to be all right.
So he retorted, “Fuck yes it’s my way of getting you in my bed, Malik. Don’t want you in anyone else’s.”
Zayn leaned in so that their noses were touching and kissed Niall roughly.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Zayn murmured against Niall’s lips.
They lost themselves in the feeling for a few moments, reacquainting themselves with one another and the feel of their bodies pressed together.
It was magical and it was sweet and it was passionate and it definitely felt like a happily ever after.
Zayn pulled back and looked Niall in the eyes, chocolate brown locked with cerulean blue.
“Oh, by the way, I’d love to move in with you,” he paused.
And then, “Home isn’t without you, either.”
~O~