830 staff meeting m8 better set sum alarms!!!
Louis gets the text at 1am, just after his third drink and his third phone number. He groans loudly, loudly enough that the boy he's dancing with looks up -- and then down at his crotch -- in alarm.
That's
embarrassing. Louis raises his eyebrows at him and shakes his head slowly, with a bit of his patented
you wish, mate
smile.
"Sorry, darlin'," he yells over the music. "Gotta run." He gives the boy -- not his type at all: a bit shorter than him, a bit uglier than him -- a cheeky pat on the arse and melts away.
Zayn's still at the bar with a fag behind his ear and a Jack on the rocks in his hand.
"Niall text you?" Louis sneaks up behind him and shouts in his ear. The fag falls down as Zayn jumps about six feet. Louis laughs and tickles his side before leaning in and resting his head on his shoulder.
Zayn quirks an eyebrow. "About the bloody fucking meeting at shit-o-clock in the goddamn morning?" Louis nods, pulls a face. "Liam did."
"Ooooh,
Liam
did," Louis drawls delightedly, waggling his eyebrows.
"You're a maniac. Let's roll. Unless you're pulling?" Zayn's already standing up, patting his pockets and pulling the cig from his collar where it fell. It's between his lips before his feet are fully on the ground and Louis rolls his eyes.
He follows Zayn towards the door, hopping behind him, still buzzing from the music and drinks. "Not tonight! No one's as gorgeous and mysterious as you, my love, and you continually break my heart." He gives a little tug on Zayn's beltloop, knocking their hips together.
Zayn smiles and wraps his arm around Louis's shoulders. "Good lad. Finally recognising what's right in front of you."
Louis pouts. "I recognised the first day I met you, with those eyes and lips and--"
Zayn laughs. "Louis, you whore."
"I just want a
shag
! Why is that so bloody hard? We're in
Camden
for christ's sake! Is it me, Zany-Zayn? Am I so horribly unattractive that every boy within the entire city of London is repulsed by me?" Louis throws in some sniffles, too, for effect.
Laughing again, Zayn pulls him in closer and presses his mouth to Louis's ear. "Don't talk bollocks, darling, you know you're absolutely to die for."
The night is unseasonably chilled for early September and they walk entwined, their sides pressed together and legs moving in unison, until they reach their flat. Louis digs in Zayn's pocket for the key, groping more than may be strictly necessary. Zayn shakes his head with a smile.
"Sleep with me tonight," Louis says.
"Lou."
Louis sighs. "No funny business, I swear. Just. Sleep with me?"
Zayn pulls back a few inches, looks Louis in the eye. He nods. "Yeah, Lou. Let's sleep." He pulls away and heads for Louis's bedroom, pulling his shirt up over his head on the way. Louis averts his eyes because he knows he should and veers left into the bathroom.
