Zustin - A new start

In need of friends

Justin's POV:

I shake my head, trying to push away the inappropriate thoughts swirling in my mind about the guy standing in front of me. My cheeks are probably turning red—great, just what I need.

"Oh shit, sorry. Yeah, I'm listening, I swear," I say, trying to recover from zoning out. "Hey, my name's Justin," I add, extending my hand toward him, toward Zayn.

He barely glances at me before turning to his girlfriend. "Yeah, whatever. Let's go sit down, Perrie," he replies, ignoring my hand completely.

Perrie gives me a sympathetic look, mouthing the word "sorry" as she shakes her head slightly, holding onto Zayn's hand as they walk away.

Well, that was awkward. I stand there for a second, feeling the sting of rejection, when I notice a guy waving me over. He's pointing to the empty seat next to him, so I head over, grateful for the escape.

"What's up, dude? Name's Liam," he says with an easy smile.

"Justin," I reply, shaking his hand, trying to push away the lingering embarrassment.

Liam chuckles. "I'm pretty sure everyone already knows your name by now. Judging by the looks some of these girls are giving me, they're ready to murder me for making you sit here instead of with them."

I laugh, a real laugh that I didn't expect. It feels good, like some of the tension is leaving my body. "Yeah, well, they'll have to wait their turn," I joke.

Liam and I start talking, the conversation flowing easily. He asks where I'm from, what kind of music I like, and if I'm thinking about joining any sports teams. Turns out he's the co-captain of the soccer team, which is pretty cool. I'm about to answer him when the teacher walks in, and the room falls silent.

The class is okay. History's always been a subject I've liked, and the teacher seems nice enough. It's not a bad way to start the day.

When class ends, Liam invites me to meet some of his friends before the next class. "Hey guys, this is Justin," he says, introducing me to the group.

They're all friendly, introducing themselves one by one. There are a lot of names to remember, but the group soon scatters, leaving me with what I assume are Liam's closest friends. There's Harry, who's got this wild head of curls, Louis, who's cracking jokes left and right, and Niall, the Irish one with an accent I love but can barely understand. I just smile and nod, hoping I'm not agreeing to anything too crazy.

We're chatting when someone suddenly runs up to Liam, playfully shoving him before pulling him into a hug. It's Zayn. Fuck.

"You asshole," Liam says, grinning as he pushes Zayn back. Then he turns to me, saying, "Zayn, this is Justin. Introduce yourself, man."

Zayn looks at me, eyes scanning me up and down like he's trying to figure something out. I feel my cheeks heating up again—seriously, what is wrong with me?

"Sup," Zayn says with a small smirk, noticing the flush in my cheeks before rolling his eyes and turning away.

I can't help but stare at him though. Zayn looks like something out of a dream—a mix between an Egyptian prince and something holy, something untouchable. He's got these deep brown eyes, almost black hair, and a beard that's more than just stubble. His skin is the color of warm honey, and the tattoos scattered across his arms only add to the allure. I find myself wondering if he has more tattoos hidden under his clothes. His body is beautiful, like really really beautiful. Slim, in a extremely attractive way, he barley has an ass but I'm pretty sure I'd make a good bottom. I quickly shut down that line of thinking before it gets out of hand.