Wrong Side of Love (Ziam bodyswap)

Chapter 7

Liam is still in Zayn's body when he wakes up. At first he's not sure, has convinced himself it was all a dream, but then he blinks open his eyes and tries to sit up, but he finds himself trapped under a body. Under his own body. And he's heavy; really heavy. How does Liam not crush Zayn on a daily basis? Because Liam can barely breath with the way Zayn's sprawled out half on top of him.

"Zayn," he groans, trying to push him off. "You're crushing me."

Zayn grunts, making an upset sound. Even in Liam's body, waking Zayn up is a hardship. "Shut up," he moans. "I'm sleepin'."

"Zayn," Liam repeats, a little sharper.

Slowly, Zayn sits up. He rubs at his eyes, glaring down at Liam while blinking rapidly. When his gaze finally focuses, he lets out a surprised sound and nearly rolls off the bed. "Why am I still you?" he asks. "Why didn't that work?"

"I don't know," Liam admits. "I thought it would."

Zayn sighs and sits up, too, so they're facing each other. He grabs Liam's chin, tilting it from left to right, taking a good look at himself. "I need to shave," he says. "And start plucking my eyebrows."

"There's nothing wrong with your eyebrows," Liam tells him. "There's nothing — I mean, you're perfect. Or, um, you're fine the way you are."

Zayn's face goes blank for a moment before he smiles. "You're not too bad yourself."

Liam flushes, and it's not true. Right now, looking at himself so closely, not obscured in a picture or flipped in a mirror, there's a lot wrong with him. His nose is too big, his jaw's a little uneven. His eyes are too wide, and Liam's eyebrows are much worse than Zayn's.

"Don't," Zayn scolds. "I can tell what you're thinking."

"You can read my mind now, too?" Liam jokes weakly.

Zayn continues to glare at him. "You're fine the way you are, too," Zayn says. "More than fine. Wouldn't change a thing about you, Liam. Not one damn thing. And you've got a pretty big dick, dude."

This time, Liam doesn't flush. He's pretty sure he goes white as paper. "Zayn! We agreed we weren't going to look!"

Zayn shrugs. "Couldn't help it. I was curious."

Liam buries his face in his hands. "I can't believe you."

"It was unavoidable," Zayn argues. "I was already touching it; I figured the damage was already done, might as well see what you're working with. And it's not like I stood there for five minutes checking out your dick. I just kinda glanced down and, like. Okay, this is the weirdest conversation I've ever had."

"This is the weirdest situation I've ever been in," Liam counters. "This whole thing is just — it's—"

"Fucked up," Zayn finishes for him. "It's fucked up."

Liam nods slowly, frustrated tears prickling his eyes. He hates that. He doesn't cry, Liam. Hasn't in a really long time, but sometimes, when he's really angry or frustrated, tears well in his eyes anyways. "I'm just confused," he says, quiet and low. "I don't like being confused, and this whole thing is screwing with my head."

Zayn wraps his arms tightly around Liam, Liam's head tucked into his chest. He's never realized before, just how comforting his own embrace is. Liam's arms encircle Zayn's slightly smaller frame easily, and their bodies just fit. They fit, like two parts of one whole, meant to be attached in some way at all times.

"We'll fix this," Zayn promises. "We'll get through this, Liam. We've been to hell and back, the five of us. This? This is manageable."

It's sort of true. Maybe their lives are wonderful and spectacular, but they're hard. They take their toll. And each and every one of them, Liam included, has had their own break down, at some point. But they deal with it. They deal with the times they screw up on stage and every gossip site makes fun of them for it the next day; they deal with the hateful things some people say about them, about each other. This may be in a whole different ball park from those things, but Zayn has a point. They can handle it. They can handle anything, the five of them, as long as they're together.