July 30, 2012
started something, zayn/niall(/harry)

anyway, so this is part of the skins AU that i talked about in tags here. have a few other ficlets in this ‘verse in mind, but alexandra mentioned it in relation to this zayn post and i like it when people think about things i’ve said. so. here are some words about zayn. 

Light’s violet through the windows and Zayn’s throat’s all scratched up, that’s what he notices first. The arm round his waist, the way his body feels filled with rocks, that comes in close second. He’s crowded to the edge of the bed, there’s a body all pressed up against his from behind, and to be completely honest Zayn’s not sure who the other body belongs to. It’s Wednesday. He has to get to work.

He tries to go into stealth mode but his limbs are having none of it, so when he pulls away from the person behind him he tumbles off the bed like a sack of marbles. Hurts like fuck, and wakes up the - well fit bleached blond boy who peers nakedly over the edge of the bed to check on him. “All right there?” the boys says, all drowsy blue eyes and Irish accent thick with sleep. Zayn nods. He feels scattered all over the floor. Somehow the pieces of him manage to band together and get him up. There’s Harry on the other side of Hot Blond Boy, which makes sense, because if anyone could coax Zayn into a drunken three-way with a stranger, it would be Harry. Surprising it’s taken this long, really. Being friends with Harry practically comes with a series of sex tickets: Redeemable for one drunken shag when you meet. Redeemable for one sober shag when you’re bored. Redeemable for one threesome, because everyone has to have a threesome at some point, right mate?

“I’ve to get to work,” Zayn says, too hushed, like it’s a secret. He looks about for his clothes, seems like he might have managed to wake up this time with a complete set. Better than last time. He misses that t-shirt. Is there an appropriate time to ask the name of the bloke you’ve just woken up naked with?

Naked bloke rolls out of bed, jostling a snore out of Harry. “I’ll walk out with you. I’m Niall,” he says, eyes darting around for his own clothes, “in case you don’t remember. Lot to drink, yeah?”

“Zayn,” he says, relieved. “Yeah.”

They dress in easy silence, considering, and pass Louis on the way out. Zayn jabs at Louis’s shoulder with his knuckles, startling him out of his couch nap. Louis squints up at them, taking in the rumpled clothes, the bite marks Zayn knows he left on Niall’s neck, because that’s a thing he does. “Fuck and run?” Louis asks, judgment tilting his voice and eyebrow up at the edges. 

Zayn flushes. “Fuck and get to work on time,” he says. “Harry’s still down for the count. Go in and give him a cuddle or something, will you? Don’t want him waking up alone.”

“So thoughtful,” Louis says, still judgy as hell. He gets up, anyway. “You boys have fun at least?”

“Think so,” says Niall. “Long night.”

“Loads of fun,” Zayn lies, wishing he could remember it and suddenly wanting to pretend he can. “It’ll go down in legend.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Get out. Tell Liam I haven’t forgot that ten pounds he owes me.”

“Will do,” says Niall. He touches his fingertips to the brim of his snapback, nods at Louis. 

Sun’s farther up outside, pushing at the edges of the chill in the air. Zayn hunches over a bit, hands in his pockets as Niall walks alongside him. He should feel worse than he does, probably, all full of teenage regrets, shit like that. Doesn’t seem like much point in it, though. Least he had a good time, from what he can remember. Or at least infer from waking up naked in bed with two fit lads. 

“So you’ve got work soon, then?” Niall asks. Their arms brush together as they walk. It should feel awkward. Why doesn’t it feel awkward?

Zayn shrugs. “Bit later. Just wanted some fresh air, really.”

Niall bites his lip, Zayn can just see it from the corner of his eyes. When he turns his head slightly to the right, he can see more, the marks of his own teeth, high on the curve of Niall’s neck below his ear. He always liked that spot on boys. They’re coming up on a sandwich shop, smell of bacon in the air doing nothing for Zayn but Niall seems to catch it too, and like it. “Wanna get breakfast, then?” Niall asks. A flush creeps up his neck, just visible in the pale English light. 

“Yeah,” says Zayn, even though he can only stomach coffee this early. When they turn in to the shop, he touches his fingertips to Niall’s elbow, guiding the way, and Niall smiles wide.

(This is what Zayn will think of as their first date.) 

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