omg Em could you please write a part 2 of the bartender drabble where liam asks zayn about what he said that night?? it was so good!!
Sorry this has taken me a million years to write rip. PART ONE.
Liam knows it’s a bad idea to go see Zayn. He’d be hung over, for one thing. Plus he might remember what he’d said last night and get all uncomfortable. Or, worse, he might not remember and Liam would be left with the horrible dilemma of either telling him what he said or just going the rest of his life with Zayn’s voice rattling in his head: why won’t you ask me out?
Regardless, Liam goes to Zayn’s apartment.
It had taken the better part of an hour to get from the bar to Zayn’s place the previous night, mostly due to Zayn being so off his face that he couldn’t be trusted to give directions, but also partly because Zayn kept leaning over the gear shift and whispering nonsensical things in Liam’s ear that Liam guesses were meant to be seductive. (Instead, they came out as jumbled and adorable. Liam didn’t stop blushing the entire night.)
Liam knocks, but Zayn doesn’t answer. He waits a minute and then knocks again. He hears this low, disgruntled noise, like a deer screaming, before he hears heavy thuds on floorboards and then Zayn’s swinging the door open, looking like a seething kitten.
“Good morning,” Liam greeted, grinning widely.
Zayn just looked up at him helplessly. “What day is it?”
“Sunday,” Liam tells him.
“No,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “What day is it, Liam?”
Liam frowns in confusion. “Um-”
“It’s doom’s day, Liam,” Zayn says. He suddenly steps forward and buries his head in Liam’s neck. “I think I’m dying.”
Liam smiles fondly. “You’re not dying, Zayn.”
Zayn pulls away and sighs dramatically before Liam has the chance to give him a hug. He’s just so soft looking, is the thing, with his hair in disarray and only one sock on his feet and a huge shirt hanging off of him, inside out and backwards.
Zayn waves him off dismissively but almost immediately pulls him into the apartment. It’s an absolute mess inside, but Liam finds a clear spot on the couch and sits down on it while Zayn makes coffee. A couple minutes later Zayn sits next to him, thighs touching.
“Have you come to see how pitiful I am with a hangover?” Zayn asks. “Or have you come to show me videos of stupid shit I’ve done?”
Liam freezes. “You don’t remember last night?”
“No, I do,” Zayn says, suddenly looking shy. “I was just sort of hoping you’d forgotten.”
“Oh,” Liam says. He takes a sip of his coffee.
“You don’t have to say anything about it, obviously,” Zayn says quickly, putting his own mug down. “But just, like. You’re an amazing friend. So I’m hoping that me having, like, feelings for you, or whatever, won’t drive you away. Because I honestly don’t want to lose you, Liam. So please just ignore what I said.”
Liam has to breathe for a moment while he works through the shock. “You meant it?”
Zayn looks at his hands. “Obviously,” he says, sounding a bit sad about it. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Liam repeats, incredulous. He puts his mug down so that he can grab Zayn’s hands. “Zayn, this may be the best news I’ve ever heard.”
Zayn’s head snaps up. “What?”
“Go out with me,” Liam blurts, turning to face Zayn properly. Zayn stares up at him, eyes wide. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for ages but I thought you were straight, but. That doesn’t matter now. Go out with me? Please?”
Zayn looks stunned. “Am I still drunk?”
“I don’t think so,” Liam says. He’s smiling wider than he’s smiled in a long time. “If you are, then I’ll ask again when you’re sober.”
Zayn shakes his head. “You don’t need to do that.”
He doesn’t say anything after that. He just slowly, calmly, slides off the couch and onto Liam’s lap, and presses their lips together so tenderly that Liam felt like no more words needed to be spoken at all.