Chapter Text
3 Years Later (May 2016)
When Liam awoke, there was an arm draped over his waist and a pillow that bore the faint smell of detergent under his cheek. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room, and it took a moment for Liam to remember where they were: the Maliks’ beach house in North Carolina, where Zayn’s parents had been gracious enough to put them up for the last week of May—along with Louis, Harry, and Niall—as a graduation gift to Zayn. Zayn claimed that he liked Liam’s gift the best (badges for this year’s San Diego Comic-Con) but Liam had to admit, this was pretty great too.
Liam had been to this house a couple of times during previous summers with Zayn’s family, but this was the first time they’d been out there alone. With Niall in Zayn’s usual bedroom (Zayn wouldn’t allow Lou and Harry in there, lest they befoul his childhood bed), Liam and Zayn were in the master bedroom. As Liam laced his fingers through Zayn’s over his bare stomach and allowed his eyes to wander around the room, he admired how nice the place was.
There was no real hope of him falling back to sleep. Liam’s internal clock had him geared up to face the day at eight in the morning, even on weekends, thanks to early boxing classes. Liam had taken up boxing the spring after he moved in with Niall. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed with starting classes again, at a real university for the first time, where he knew exactly two out of twenty-thousand fellow students. Not that Niall or Zayn shared any of his classes. Liam still worked weekends at the bookshop but desperately missed the peace and quiet amidst the shelves and desperately needed a stress reliever.
Zayn was the one who proposed the idea. He had attended a few boxing classes on his therapist’s suggestion in high school, but didn’t stick with it, finding more peace of mind in books than the ring. Liam was initially wary of the idea, wondering how any form of violence could possibly make him feel better. But Zayn argued that Liam might enjoy the control and methodical repetition of the sport, and when Liam mentioned it to his own therapist, Regina, she was instantly on board. To be honest, she and Zayn seemed to be on the same wavelength about most things when it came to Liam—Liam couldn’t decide whether that was helpful or just creepy.
Two years later, Liam was even a bit broader than Zayn and there was more definition to his physique, which Zayn had dubbed “insanely hot” and gave Liam a tad more self confidence when he looked in the mirror. Liam had never been what one could qualify as “ripped,” but there was a certain solace he found in having control over his body and being able to defend himself. Neither of his parents had tried to make contact with him since his mother’s ill-fated visit nearly three years ago, but. Well. It was just nice to know he could take care of himself.
Liam rolled over, careful not to dislodge Zayn’s arm, and snuggled into his chest (despite the newly acquired muscle mass, there was still something about being with Zayn that made Liam feel pleasantly small). He fumbled with the duvet, trying to tug it up over them, and pressed himself as close as possible to Zayn to steal his body heat. The vent was blasting AC right over their heads and Liam was starting to wish he’d at least pulled on a t-shirt or something before they’d fallen asleep.
This was still relatively new. Not the waking up next to Zayn part. That had been a regular occurrence since Zayn moved into the dorms sophomore year.
The naked part, though. That was still pretty new.
The first time had taken place last Christmas break, when Niall was with his parents for the holidays. The three of them had been sharing an apartment for the better part of two years, and even though Niall complained about rooming with a couple nearly every time they kissed in his presence, the truth was Niall was getting more action than both Liam and Zayn—if the number of mornings Dani emerged from Niall’s room lately was any indication.
(Raised eyebrows and outright questions had not elicited any further information on this development from Niall, who claimed they weren’t labeling it, but Lou and Harry both had running bets on how long it would take for them to make it official.)
It wasn’t that Liam and Zayn hadn’t done anything before that. Though, to be fair, it had taken Liam until the previous summer to let Zayn get him anywhere near a state of total undress. For Liam, their first time had been a lot of stuttering, blushing, and pleasepleaseplease without Liam entirely knowing what he was asking for. Luckily, it was also a lot of Zayn talking him through everything, whispering words of encouragement, and holding Liam like he was the most precious thing in the whole world. And a lot of cuddling when it was over, which was a massive plus.
Definitely worth the wait, Liam thought.
Zayn must have agreed, because here they were, six months later, and in the intervening time, Niall had plenty of excuses to actually complain about sharing the apartment with them. He kept vowing to move out, but had taken no steps to do so. Liam didn’t know how Lou and Harry found out that he and Zayn had actually done the deed. All he knew was that one day a package was delivered to their doorstep containing a bright pink vibrator and a note reading Congratulations on your fornication! signed from Louis and Harry, though Liam was pretty sure Louis had signed on Harry’s behalf.
Liam lifted his head ever so slightly to glance at the nightstand clock over Zayn’s shoulder. It was nearly nine o’clock now, and there was definitely no chance of dozing off.
Cautiously, Liam extricated himself from Zayn’s embrace and stood up. Zayn wrinkled his nose without opening his eyes when his arm flopped down onto the sheets, but when Liam supplied his slumbering boyfriend with a pillow, he seemed content to cuddle with that instead. Liam rolled his eyes and ducked out for a shower. He had big plans for today: Liam was going to teach Zayn how to swim. Granted, Zayn had only agreed to said plan the night before when Liam was undoing the zipper of his pants, but after three years Liam had finally gotten verbal agreement and he was holding Zayn to that.
When Liam returned from the shower a few minutes later, towel-wrapped and dripping, he found Zayn squinting up at him from the bed.
“What time’sit?” he slurred, clearly just on the brink of wakefulness.
“Nine,” Liam replied. “Up and at ‘em.”
“What? No. Why?” Zayn moaned, rolling back to plant his face in the pillow again.
“Today, you l-learn to swim,” Liam reminded Zayn as he pulled on a pair of swim trunks.
The words had more or less the effect of dousing Zayn with icy water (which had been Liam’s Plan B). He sat up ramrod straight and looked at Liam with abject horror. “What?”
Liam grinned smugly. “You said—”
Zayn waved him off. “I know what I said. But I also recall when I said it, and that totally doesn’t count. I was unfairly distracted.”
“Sorry n-not sorry. Go shower.”
Zayn tilted his head and said, “You already showered? Without me?” Liam nodded. “Liam.” Zayn rose from his seated position on the bed, allowing the sheets to slowly slide off him. He strode over to Liam and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Liam’s bathing suit. Liam gulped. “But I like it when we shower together. How about this. Instead of that whole swimming business, why don’t you lose the swim trunks, and we can—”
Liam shook his head. Must be strong. “Stop d-distracting m-me with your s-sexiness,” he huffed, reluctantly removing Zayn’s wandering hands. “Sh-shower.”
That was one thing about his stutter these days: in general, it was better, but that only made it all the more noticeable when Liam was flustered. And Zayn took great pleasure in making Liam flustered, in this respect (predictably, Zayn grinned like a Cheshire cat before he obeyed Liam’s order and headed off to the bathroom—Liam watched his retreating naked form somewhat regretfully).
Liam had started speech therapy the summer after their sophomore year, when Regina mentioned he might find it helpful. The stammering issue had improved somewhat over the course of his sessions with her, though this was not altogether unexpected. Liam didn’t need a professional to tell him that his speech issues stemmed primarily from his anxiety issues, which were assuaged the more time Liam spent away from his parents and the more sessions he had with Regina.
Liam went home the evening after Regina broached the subject of speech therapy and relayed the idea to Zayn.
“D-do you think I sh-should?” he had asked, picking at his food uncertainly while he watched Zayn turn the idea over in his head.
Zayn shrugged. “Do you want to?”
Liam considered. Speech therapy would undoubtedly be a lot of work, a lot of frustration, and a lot of focusing attention on one of the things he disliked most about himself. But still…
How nice would it be to free himself of the stares, the snickers (thankfully less frequent in his current work environment), and the daily battle of struggling his way through sentences?
“I always thought it was kind of cute, the way you talk,” Zayn mused when Liam was too quiet for too long. “Not that you’d be any less cute without it.”
“So I w-would be more c-cute without i-it?” Liam pressed while pretending that he was not blushing.
Zayn leaned over to peck Liam on the cheek. “I love you,” he said, which all he ever said when Liam tried to get Zayn to validate one of his insecurities.
Liam humphed, unsatisfied but resigned to the fact that this was probably the most answer he would get out of Zayn.
A month later, he was in to see his speech pathologist for the first time. It wasn’t as bad as Liam anticipated it would be. Luckily, Dr. Daya was a kind, patient woman—who had a candy jar on her desk. Liam didn’t want to say that was a big part of winning him over, but it was a pretty big part of winning him over. Liam never got as close to Dr. Daya as he was with Regina, but he still looked forward to their sessions (less frequent now, with Liam’s progress).
When Zayn emerged from the bathroom, without preamble, “I really don’t want to do this. Are you sure you want to do this? I have told you I’m a pain in the ass to teach…”
Liam handed Zayn a pool towel. “I think I c-can handle it.”
Zayn pouted grumpily and said, “You’re supposed to wait a certain amount of time before swimming after you eat, right? So once we eat breakfast, we’ll just have to sit around for a while, which doesn’t even seem worth it…”
“Breakfast after swim l-lessons, then.”
“Or, counterproposal,” Zayn said, “we could wait until this afternoon.”
Liam knew what he was doing. It was a short enough delay that Liam would probably acquiesce, but long enough for Zayn to distract him with another activity. Sneaky, Zayn.
Well, Liam was sneakier.
Liam raised an eyebrow and quirked one corner of his mouth up in a teasing grin. “Yeah? We could wait for L-Lou and Harry and Niall t-to get up. They’ll probably want to s-see this, maybe even video ta—”
“Okay, okay.” Zayn held his hands up in surrender. Liam mentally fist-pumped. “You win. Let me just get dressed.” He pulled out a pair of swim trunks and tugged them on with excessive force. Then looked up at Liam. “I’m going to suck at this,” he warned.
“I love you,” was Liam’s response, because two could play at the refusing-to-validate-insecurities game.
(Liam had first said the “L” word a few months after Zayn had, when he felt like he might physically burst if he held it in anymore. Even after all this time, the words still brought an uninhibited smile to Zayn’s face.)
***
“I’m starting to think this whole week was a trap laid out by you and my parents,” Zayn grumbled as Liam ushered him through the gate to the pool, one hand on the small of Zayn’s back to prevent the inevitable escape attempt. “They’ve been trying to convince me to learn how to swim for months.”
“You’re a p-pool manager,” Liam reminded him. “’s a b-bit silly not to know how to swim.”
“Only this summer,” Zayn emphasized as they deposited their belongings on a pool chair. He’d been very adamant about this distinction—Zayn didn’t want anyone, least of all his father, to think that this was a career step (though even Mr. Malik had to concede to his son’s career aspirations, now that Zayn had dual degrees in English and Education). But while Zayn was in the midst of applying for a Teach for America position, he kind of desperately needed the money.
“Still,” Liam said, taking Zayn’s hand firmly to lead him towards the steps, because Liam wasn’t convinced Zayn wouldn’t bail on their plans until he actually saw him get in the pool.
“Cold, cold, cold!” Zayn complained as they descended into the water.
Liam gritted his teeth. It was pretty cold, but there was no way Liam was giving Zayn an out.
“You’ll feel w-warmer once you start mo-oving,” Liam promised, trying not to laugh at the way Zayn was holding his arms hovered above the surface of the water, like he was a marionette with his strings pulled up. “We’ll start w-with something easy, l-l-like floating on your back, ‘kay?”
For all Zayn’s warnings to the contrary, Liam did not find him an impossible student. Sure, Zayn did a fair share of grumbling, especially when Liam wanted him to go all the way underwater, but a half an hour later, Zayn had a pretty good doggy-paddle going across the shallow end.
“I feel stupid,” Zayn told Liam as he accidentally splashed himself in the face with water.
Liam stifled a snort. “You’re doing fine.”
“Hey, I see that! I see you smiling at my expense. Stop it.”
Liam did not, but it was probably okay since Zayn was also (grudgingly) smiling. “Are we almost finished? I made it all the way to the wall and back without touching the bottom.” Zayn awkwardly propelled his way over to where Liam was leaning against the wall and stood up. “Please,” he added, dipping his chin to look at Liam from beneath his lashes.
Well, when he put it like that. “F-for now,” Liam allowed.
Zayn grinned triumphantly and leaned in to kiss Liam, slow and gentle.
“See, th-this wasn’t s-so bad,” Liam said, slightly breathlessly, when they broke apart, tilting his forehead against Zayn’s.
“No,” Zayn conceded, resting his hands on Liam’s waist. “You’re a very good teacher.”
“Yeah?” Liam asked.
“Yeah,” Zayn confirmed sincerely. “There’s no one else I’d rather freeze my ass off in a pool with at seven o’clock in the morning than you.”
“First of all, it’s p-past ten,” Liam said. “Second, there’s no way you’re s-still cold.”
“Mmm, no,” Zayn replied, rocking his hips forward. Liam whimpered and Zayn’s smile widened. “Nope, I definitely feel warmer now.”
“Hey!” Liam and Zayn both jolted with surprise and looked to see Niall leaning against the fence with Louis and Harry, who were grinning. “Don’t you dare let this situation get sexy,” Niall commanded as he crossed through the gate. “I’m going for a nice morning swim and I don’t want to worry about what’s happened in or to this water before my arrival.”
“Nothing,” Liam assured him honestly, though Niall’s expression remained unconvinced, even as he shucked his t-shirt and shoes.
“We’re finished anyway,” Zayn said, pushing himself up to sit on the side of the pool before Liam could protest.
Harry came over to take a seat next to Zayn on the edge. “So, what, Zayn? Are you a proper fish now?” he asked.
“He doggy-paddles like a p-pro,” Liam said proudly. “He’ll be r-ready for the ocean, soon.”
Zayn’s “that’s a lie!” was drowned out by Louis launching himself into a cannonball right beside them, effectively dousing everyone.
“How does he have this much energy in the morning?” Zayn moaned as he wiped the water out of his eyes.
“Says the man who was about to get it on in a public pool,” Harry teased. Liam blushed.
Zayn was wholly unconcerned. “Touché.”
“Liam you have a text,” Niall informed him from the chair where they’d all been dumping their stuff. Before Liam could stand up, “It’s Regina. She says ‘hope you’re having a fun, call Monday to set up a time for us to chat this week.’”
“Tell her I said hi,” Zayn said, and Liam shook his head as he watched Niall unlock his phone to respond.
“I’d really prefer if y-you didn’t read my t-t-texts, thanks,” Liam said. “They could be private!”
“Please. The only person you have any business sending private messages to is sitting right next to you,” Niall said unconcernedly without looking up from the screen.
Liam sighed. “Tell her I said hi, t-too.”
Regina was hands-down one of Liam’s favorite people in the world. She was a difficult not to like, with the sunny disposition of Niall and a budget of patience with Liam to rival Zayn’s. As it turned out, she not only had experience counseling children with “troubled backgrounds,” but had some first hand experience as a lesbian growing up in a fundamentalist Christian household. Until she’d been caught kissing her girlfriend at age sixteen and promptly sent packing.
Regina understood Liam’s experiences in ways that not even the other boys could, and she’d played a pivotal role in helping him get his life back on track, especially starting school again. She’d even given him the confidence to pursue psychology, in the hopes that one day Liam could help someone else the way Regina had helped him. Liam still couldn’t believe that after just one more semester, he’d have his degree.
“Told her you’d call on Monday ‘round noon,” Niall said, flopping down next to Zayn on the edge of the pool.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Oh, and speaking of texts, you’re probably going to get one from my mom later today about whether you can come down to visit in a couple weeks. She’s throwing me a surprise graduation party.” Liam turned to look at Niall. “Needless to say, Dad kind of accidentally ruined the ‘surprise’ part already,” he explained.
“Ah. Yeah, of course I’ll c-come. Haven’t s-seen Greg in a while.”
“The terrible twos,” Niall said reflectively. “That kid is insane.”
“He’s cute,” Liam defended.
“Last time I babysat, I saw him eat a whole candle, wick and all,” said Niall. “And then, you know, subsequently barf it back up. Cute is not the word.”
“Aaaand on that note, do you want to get food now?” Zayn cut in. “I’m starving.”
“Sure. It’s almost eleven,” Liam replied, checking his watch. “B-breakfast food, or lunch?”
“I could do lunch,” Niall said. “Why don’t we get pizza delivered?”
“Didn’t you just eat breakfast before coming to the pool?” Zayn asked incredulously.
“What’s your point?”
“Pizza’s good with me,” Liam said while Zayn gave Niall a vaguely disgusted look.
“The local place doesn’t deliver,” said Zayn, “we’d have to go get it.”
“That’s okay,” Liam assured as he watched Louis tackle Harry into the water. “It’s only s-so long before Louis s-s-suggests a game of chicken, and unless you want that t-to be part two of your swim lesson...”
“Liam and I are ordering pizza,” Zayn announced loudly to the hooligans in the pool. “Who wants what?”
Once he’d collected their orders, Zayn stepped away call up the pizza place.
“It’s gonna be weird, none of us working at the park this year,” Harry remarked as he traced his fingers around the surface of the water.
“Probably for the best,” Niall said. “Now that Zayn’s running the show, he can’t in good conscience let people like us work there anyway.”
This would be the first summer none of the janitors would be reuniting for three months of feigned productivity. Niall would be shadowing his uncle at a recording studio, getting some much-needed hands-on experience for his music production degree. The last two summers, Harry had been helping run a summer program for kids at the local library (Liam couldn’t imagine a better place for Harry than seated on a carpet, surrounded by four-year-olds, making books come alive). Since Louis was required to TA a couple of intro sociology classes as part of his master’s program at the university, he usually tried to get that out of the way during the summer semester. And Liam would be back to working full time at the bookshop while taking a couple of online classes to make up for community college credits that didn’t transfer.
“Zayn’s really serious about this Teach for America thing, isn’t he?” Louis asked as he drifted back towards the where the rest of them were clustered in the shallow end. To Liam, he added, “They can send him anywhere in the country, right? Have you guys talked about that?”
“A bit,” Liam said, because they had, but there really wasn’t much to say. Liam couldn’t go anywhere until he finished his own degree, but after that, he wasn’t sure what he’d be doing for grad school or employment. He was certainly willing to follow Zayn anywhere, but he was also steadfastly certain that it would take a lot more than distance to threaten their relationship, if they were forced to spend some time apart.
“They’ll be fine,” Harry said confidently. "It's Ziam."
Louis grinned widely and Liam rolled his eyes.
Zayn meandered back over to the rest of them and and reported, “They said it should be ready in twenty minutes, so I’ll probably head over now.”
“I’ll come with you,” Liam offered, pushing himself out of the pool.
“Cool,” Zayn agreed happily. He reached over to grab a towel and wrapped it around Liam. “So you all in a bit, then.” He waved to Niall, Harry, and Lou and led the way out the gate to his car.
“I love those guys,” Liam said fondly as they approached Zayn’s car.
Zayn chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” As he slid into the driver’s seat, Zayn lifted up the auxiliary cord to Liam. “Your turn to pick.”
Liam pulled out the old iPod nano out of the glove compartment and scrolled through. He’d added several hundred since Zayn first gave him the device, as he explored his musical interests, but found that he mostly listened to Zayn’s core repertoire of songs, anyway. Liam selected Pink Floyd and zoomed down through their long list of songs.
(Liam had been pleasantly surprised to find, when Zayn gifted Liam Pink Floyd’s new album* during their junior year, that it no longer pained him at all to listen to his favorite band. Whereas listening to Pink Floyd had once been a Liam’s Mother Thing, it was now a Liam and Zayn Thing. The realization had brought happy tears to Liam’s eyes, which of course he’d immediately had to explain to Zayn, lest he think the present had upset Liam.)
“Are you feeling M-Momentary Lapse of Reason today, o-or Division Bell?” Liam inquired as he struggled to make a selection.
Zayn pondered for a moment while he backed the car out of their parking spot, rolling down the windows. “Momentary Lapse of Reason.”
Liam hummed in agreement and found “Learning to Fly.”
The powerful thrum of music filled the car, blaring through the open windows as Zayn peeled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Zayn took Liam’s hand over the gear shift and Liam belted out the lyrics right along with Zayn and David Gilmour—his occasional stutter drowned out by the feeling of music filling his entire person and the fingers interlocked with his own (Zayn’s unspoken, but unwavering reassurance: I’m right here with you, always).
“There’s no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss
Can’t keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an Earth-bound misfit, I…”
*because Pink Floyd is coming out with their first album in 20 years this fall :)