Seaside >> Ziam

Sexuality

"You weren't fired," Zayn grinned, emerging in the kitchen the next morning. He leaned against the counter, left hip digging into the cool granite, and watched Liam stir some sort of batter. "Pancakes?"

"Waffles," Liam replied, "Safaa begged. Figure I owe her."

Zayn hummed, considering, before dipping his index finger into the batter and sticking into his mouth. Liam may not have any intention of letting Zayn into his personal world, but it's at least going to be fun to make his cheeks turn bright red. "Glad you weren't fired. The girls already adore you. Oh, Liam's so brave, he's so smart, he's got such a pretty singing voice, Zee, you should learn the piano like Liam. It's disgusting, really."

"I can only imagine," Liam deadpanned, glancing warily at Zayn, the pink flushing slowly out of his cheeks. Immediately, Zayn's plotting a way to bring the colour back. He reaches for the batter again, but Liam swats his hand away with uncannily fast reflexes. "If you're only here to get your germs in my waffles, at least make yourself useful and cut up some fruit."

Zayn shrugged, unbothered, and headed for the fridge, confident that his parents didn't even know what fresh fruit looks like. To his surprise, instead of pre-made meals and pudding cups, the fridge was full of fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as beverages other than Coca-Cola and Root Beer. "You went shopping?" 

Liam nodded, glancing over his shoulder at the other boy, whose skin was silver-tinted in the fluorescent lights and was sprouting tiny bumps from the cold. "On my way here."

Zayn, still a bit stunned, pulled out a package of Organic Strawberries eyeing the "free range organic" eggs warily on his way to the chopping board. "Now what?"

"You've never cooked a day in your life," Liam stated, both amused and condescending, left hand on his hip, right hand still stirring his batter. "Go rinse them off in the sink, along with the cutting board."

Zayn nodded, a focused look taking over his features as he gathered up his fruits and cutting board, waddling over to the sink directly next to Liam. In a way that could've been completely accidental, he bumped his hip against Liam's turning on the tap and opening the container, which conveniently had holes for the water to drain out of. Satisfied with the amount of rinsing he'd done, he set up his station on the other side of the island so he could discreetly watch Liam's muscles work as he added in cinnamon and stirred the increasingly thick batter.

"Now?" Zayn asked, looking to Liam's face expectantly. 

"Now you grab a knife and you carefully cut those up so they're bite-sized."

Zayn nodded, for some reason feeling the pressure of Liam's gaze. If he couldn't even cut up some fruits, how useless was going to Liam think he was? Stereotypical rich kid with nothing to offer but a nice handjob, right? It wasn't as though that was entirely inaccurate, but it would be nice for somebody to think of him as something a bit more. Capable or responsible, or at least a bit more human.

Biting his tongue between slightly parted lips, Zayn went to work, chopping the strawberries in half, and then into fourths. In fact, by the time Liam moved on to pouring small amounts of batter into each section of the Malik's waffle iron, he was on his final strawberry.

"Zayn," Liam said, covering his mouth to keep from laughing. "You're not meant to keep the leaves on, mate."

Zayn shut his eyes and instinctively dropped the knife onto the cutting board. Then, in pure frustration, he covered his eyes and dropped his elbows to what he thought would simply be a nice solid granite counter. Instead, his left elbow hit a strawberry, sliding it straight into the blade of his knife. He drew back his arms and screamed, "Fuck!" at the top of his lungs, prompting Liam to spring into action, grabbing Zayn by the waist and placing him on the clear counter to the left of the cutting board.