Glitter & Crimson [COMPLETED]

7

As the band stepped off the stage, the energy still thrumming in their veins, Zayn instinctively slipped his hand into the back pocket of Louis's jeans, guiding him through the crowded backstage. The stadium lights faded behind them, casting the corridors into a quiet glow, and yet the roar of thousands of fans chanting their names echoed down the hallways, making the night feel like it hadn't quite ended.

"You know," Niall drawled with a smirk as he caught up with them, "we're not in front of the cameras anymore."

Zayn looked back at Niall, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks as he slowly removed his hand from Louis's pocket. "Oh... right," he mumbled, though he didn't quite let go, his fingers brushing against Louis's hand as if they had a mind of their own.

Louis chuckled, amused by Zayn's lingering touch and Niall's teasing. He didn't mind the closeness, even found it grounding after the high-energy chaos of the stage. They'd spent so much time in the public eye lately, wrapped up in their "marriage" act, that sometimes it was hard to tell where the performance stopped and their reality began. The truth was, Louis wasn't sure he wanted to know.

They made their way to the band's dressing lounge, where Louis immediately flopped onto a plush couch with a groan of satisfaction. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to let the background chatter wash over him. Liam and Harry were reliving the night's highlights, while Niall launched into one of his famous reenactments of their onstage antics, making them laugh so hard it nearly brought them to tears.

A few moments later, Louis felt a tap on his thigh, followed by a playful pinch. He cracked one eye open to see Zayn standing over him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Move over," Zayn murmured, nudging him gently. Louis shuffled to the side, allowing Zayn to settle beside him, then draped his legs lazily across Zayn's lap, a casual intimacy that felt as natural as breathing. Zayn's hand landed on Louis's knee, his thumb drawing small, absentminded circles that sent a quiet warmth through Louis's body.

"Alright, there, mate?" Zayn's voice was soft, his gaze meeting Louis's with a warmth that bordered on concern.

Louis nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, just... knackered," he replied, though his expression betrayed more than just exhaustion. Being close to Zayn like this was a comfort he didn't realize he needed, a quiet steadiness in the middle of the whirlwind around them. "Didn't think tonight would hit me this hard."

Zayn chuckled, giving Louis's knee a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe because you gave everything out there tonight. Can't blame you for feeling a bit drained."

"Or maybe it's because I had someone's hand on my ass the entire night," Louis teased, his voice low enough that only Zayn could hear. Zayn's cheeks flushed, but he laughed, nudging Louis playfully in the ribs.

The rest of the night was spent in easy camaraderie, their laughter mingling with the muffled sounds of the stadium's after-show cleanup. It was one of those rare, quiet moments, a pause between the demands of fame and the roles they'd crafted for the cameras. Here, in the dim backstage light, Louis could almost believe that whatever he felt—whatever was simmering between him and Zayn—was real.

***

As days turned to weeks, the band's schedule grew more demanding, yet Louis and Zayn found themselves seeking out time together, just for the excuse to be close. Public appearances became a strange relief; at least on those outings, they could touch freely, their actions explained away as part of the "newlywed" act. But Louis felt the difference, sensed the way Zayn's hand would linger just a second longer on his shoulder, the way their shared glances seemed to hold something unspoken.