ZIAM ONE-SHOTS (BOTTOM LIAM)

Carve Your Kisses in My Skin

Author: orphan_account

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858150

Summary:

What do they know about love? They're just teens living in anarchy, chasing the sun, watching the clouds, hanging onto their youth... kissing their best mates in the dark. Well, at least, that's what Liam's doing. And he's not really sure what this sinking feeling is when he's touching Zayn but it burns away when Zayn kisses him back.

He doesn't think he really knows what it feels like – being in love.

"Oh honey, one day you're going to fall in love just like this," Liam's mum tells him while being spun around the kitchen by his father, the sweet sounds of the Zombies playing over that old radio his parents refuse to throw out even though it's static-y and only picks up three stations – It's the time of the season for loving.

His father dips her, the squeal from Ruth nearly leaving him deaf but Nicola's scoffing with a grin, easing by them to finish her chat on the phone.

"But son," his dad starts, his grin thick and unabashed, "make sure that whoever it is, you feel it in your gut like I did with this one."

His mum is a fit of giggles, smacking at his chest as he peppers kisses to her cheeks – Tell it to me slowly, I really want to know. It's the time of the season for loving – and they waltz around the breakfast table, eyes on each other, swallowed in some sort of reverie that Liam doesn't quite get but he smiles loftily at them.

"Gross!" Ruth shrieks when his dad presses another sloppy kiss to his mum's cheek, Liam's eyes big and bright with some sort of numbing joy.

He's ten years old when he realizes love is something he can't wait to hold in the palm of his hand, gripping it tightly like his father's hand on his mum's hip.

**

"I don't think I'm a proper good kisser."

He's fifteen when this starts. He's not sure what to call it, nor does he try to find a definition for it. It's just silly thoughts, the way his brain operates on meaningless subjects that he tries not to speak aloud but, in times like this, he just sort of blurts it out.

Zayn hums, lifting his head a little.

Zayn, who's been his best mate ever since Andy got shipped off to boarding school – Honestly, he doesn't know what made Andy think that firecrackers and the school's loo mixed, but Andy always lived life by thinking after taking action – a few years back. Zayn, who was quiet more than talkative, brilliant and even a little funny when he tried. He was thoughtful, patient when he tried because, honestly, how could you be with mates like Liam or the others? He was nothing like Louis or Niall – two natural disasters tearing through their school. Or Harry, who was cheeky and flirty. Harry, who walked through life confused but happy. He was unlike Louis, who blitzed through life like a hurricane with his endless chatter and commotion.

He's not sure how they worked, him and Zayn, but they did. They got on the moment Zayn's family moved to town when they were eleven and two silly kids running the playground in junior school. They fit better than Liam and Louis – which was almost unimaginable because he and Louis have been inseparable since they were five years old – and Zayn seemed to cling to him more than he did Harry or Niall, something Liam tries not to grin too smugly about but he can't help it. He likes Zayn.

"I don't know," Liam says with a shrug when Zayn stares blankly at him. "I just think I'm probably a shit kisser."

Zayn grins, the corners of his mouth curling like they always do when Liam swears. It's a rare thing – well, it was until he started paying more attention to Harry and Niall, who cursed like it was the first few words they learned as toddlers – but Liam refuses to blush at it like he used to, before they all became this pile of friends, clutching onto each other for dear life.