50 Shades Of Gay.

Chapter Twelve.

~O~

Niall almost would have preferred it if Zayn had just left, like the time he kicked the dark-haired boy out for the night, but no, instead, it was as if none of them had ever happened because Zayn, well, he just went right back to his old ways of partying and fucking.

He didn’t even know what to do and it fucking sucked because he had these feelings kind of bubbling up inside of him and he wanted to tell Zayn how he felt, but the other lad clearly didn’t really care all that much.

Or seemingly at all, which was made very apparent by the fact that Zayn was clearly and blatantly fucking someone in his room quite loudly.

Niall wasn’t even ashamed to say that he was ragingly hard and also bawling his eyes out in his own room.

And he couldn’t even bring himself to have a wank because it felt like touching himself would be like giving up on Zayn, and Niall wasn’t ready to give up on Zayn quite yet.

“Fuck, Zayn, yes, right there.”

The moan was loud, ringing right through the wall separating their rooms, and it was just enough to push Niall over the edge.

He just couldn’t take it anymore because Zayn was everywhere: he was in Niall’s sheets, the scent of his cologne and his natural smell lingering so that every time Niall curled up, wanting to get away from the other lad, he was taken back to a time when they’d cuddle up together under the covers.

All because Niall could smell Zayn in his sheets.

Zayn was in Niall’s text books, the memories of Niall trying to study while Zayn tried to distract him stuck between the words and the pages, flitting through the paper and glaring at him through even just the title of the book.

All because Niall could remember Zayn’s hands when he studied.

Zayn was in Niall’s closet, his shirts hung on Niall’s hangers and his boxer briefs mingled with Niall’s on the floor and in the drawers. His pants and his shirts and his shoes and his socks were all over Niall’s room, just sitting there, mocking and laughing at Niall whenever he glanced down.

Niall didn’t see anything; he didn’t even feel anything other than cold pain.

He just wanted something to hurt like he did because Zayn obviously didn’t feel anything, and if Zayn didn’t feel anything for Niall, then maybe he would feel something if Niall ruined his stuff.

So, without even realizing what he was doing, Niall ruined everything.

It started with the sheets.

He yanked them off the bed; using muscles he didn’t know he had to rip the cloth in half with a loud tear.

He balled them up and threw them behind him, where they hit the door and splayed out on the floor.

Almost like a sacrifice.

The books were next.

He could still hear moans coming from Zayn’s room and he just wanted them to stop.

So, he threw the books at the wall.

One after another.

He didn’t wince as his senior seminar book tore right down the middle.

Barely even noticed that his biology book had dented the wall with a loud bang.

He didn’t even realize that pages were raining down around him.

After that he didn’t see anything past the tears in his eyes.

All he wanted was everything to be gone.