Wrong Side of Love (Ziam bodyswap)

Chapter 21

The bus is dark when he climbs onto it. It's nearly dark outside, too, the low, faded light of early morning shining down on him. He loves this time of day, really. When the stars still pinprick the sky, and the orange of the sun chases away the black of the night. When it's cool and damp, and the only sounds are from birds and insects.

Liam heads straight for his bunk, pulling back the curtain. Zayn, inside, shifts a little, pouting in that way he does when he's asleep, hands curled tightly around the blanket. Liam shoves at his shoulders.

"Zayn," he says. "Zayn."

"Shh," Zayn pleads. "Shh."

"Wake up," Liam says, loud and sharp.

"No," Zayn groans. "Never."

"Do you want me to pull you out of the bunk?" Liam warns. "Because I will."

"Liam," Zayn whines. "Liam—" And then his eyes slowly open. "Liam?"

"We changed back," Liam says. It sounds sort of anticlimactic, but Zayn's eyes widen anyways and he nearly slips out of the bunk. Liam puts his hands up, blocking the edge, and he grins. "You're you again."

Zayn looks a little dazed as he sits up, rubbing at his eyes. He hops down from the bunk, landing unsteadily on his socked feet. As soon as Liam's put a hand on his arm to keep him upright, Zayn reach up, cupping Liam's cheek with a soft, gentle hand. "You're you," he says, just as Liam had, but there's something different in the way he says it. "Liam."

"Yeah," Liam keeps grinning, "I am. And so are you."

And then Zayn kisses him. It's a desperate sort of kiss, one that catches him completely off guard. Zayn's lips are bitter-tasting and chapped from sleep, but Liam doesn't even care. He clings at Zayn, desperately holding on as Zayn's lips press hard and insistent against his own, tongue pushing out, making a low sound in the back of his throat.

He pulls back abruptly, leaving Liam dumbstruck, swaying on his feet. "Sorry," Zayn gasps out, clutching hard at his arm. "Sorry, I couldn't — I had to. I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that?" Liam asks, carefully taking a step back, then another, because the closer he is the Zayn the more he wants to return the favor, wants to capture his lips and push him back against the nearest bunk, not stopping until Zayn's a mess of bitten lips and sweaty skin with love-bites covering his throat and maybe his thighs, too.

"I'm sorry," Zayn says again, instead of supplying an explanation.

"Zayn—"

"I'm just glad to have you back," Zayn says, and Liam can see them, the watery tears in his eyes. "I'm just really happy to—" He cups Liam's cheek again, thumb sliding over his stubble. "I'm so fucking happy to touch you again. Not— not you in my body."

"Why did you kiss me?" Liam asks, pulling Zayn's hand down, breaking contact. "Why did you do that?"

"Liam," Zayn says. Nothing else, just his name.

"Why did you do that?" Liam demands, a little louder. "And why — why do you have an 'L' tattooed on the inside of your leg? Why was there a 'Z' on mine when I woke up?" And now he's on a roll, firing questions off at random. "Why did your girlfriend barely touch you when she was here? Why did she only kiss you in front of cameras? Why did she seem so happy that you and I weren't fighting anymore? Why, Zayn? Tell me, because I'm so freaking lost over this whole thing!"

"Don't," Zayn pleads. "Some questions are better left unanswered, yeah?"

"No, they're not." Liam crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. "I've been really fucking confused these last few days, Zayn, and I want answers."