Don't Go

10

Zayn gives in to Louis' pestering within a month. He invites Liam to come out with them, but Liam waves them off with a simple, "I don't really drink often."

Zayn shrugs and accepts that. It's probably a good thing he doesn't come, because he has a feeling that Louis would flip on him if he went home with Liam instead of someone else.

There was a time when Zayn would thrive in this scene. Where the loud music would thump through him and he'd pull the first attractive girl -- or guy-- onto the dance floor and press their bodies together. Where he'd get impressively wasted and take a cab back to his dorm room with someone whose name he wouldn't remember within twenty-four hours.

He's just not into it tonight. Louis isn't either, but he's trying a lot harder than Zayn. He's already danced with three guys, all of which he'd pushed away after a few minutes when he got bored with them.

Zayn just doesn't see a point. If he wants to get laid, he can just go home. In fact, he'd have a lot better of a time doing that, because bringing someone home always had it's complications. There was the awkward goodbye, and he usually ended up paying for their cabs. And then he'd have to fall asleep in a bed that smelled like someone else's perfume or cologne.

At least with Liam, they'd just shower and watch television and Liam would make them something to eat. And plus, it wasn't like the sex there was lacking. Liam knew what he liked, and he knew what Liam liked. The sex was fucking fantastic, actually.

"I think I'm going to head home," Zayn says to Louis when he returns to their table. Louis' cheeks are flushed and he looks annoyed.

"No," Louis says firmly. "You haven't even tried. Come on."

"I'm just not into it," Zayn admits.

"Zayn Malik," Louis says loudly. "Either admit that you have a thing for your roommate, or get out here with me and prove that you're not."

Zayn narrows his eyes, reaches for his shot glass, and downs it. He slips out of the booth and, with one last contemptuous glare for Louis, he grabs a random girls arm and pulls her onto the dance floor.

Her name is Marie... probably. She's got long brown hair and bright blue eyes, and moves her body gracefully against his. An hour -- and a lot more shots-- later, Zayn pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls Liam.

"Hey," Liam says, and he can hear the television in the background. "What's up?"

"Hey," Zayn says slowly, dragging out the 'y'. He opens his mouth to ask Liam if he'd mind if Zayn brought someone home, and then stops himself and rewords it. "Just letting you know that I'm bringing someone home."

Liam's quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, and Zayn holds his breath. Marie is watching him expectantly, but he barely even notices her. "Cool, I'll head over to Harry's. Just come let me know when it's safe to come back. Have fun!" he says brightly.

"Okay," Zayn replies quietly. "Bye."

Louis heads home with a tall boy with curly brown hair and brown eyes, which Zayn does not comment on. Liam's not there when he and Marie stumble into the apartment, her hands already groping him through his pants.

She's too soft underneath him, smells too flowery. He's missing the smell of citrus and the feeling of hard muscles beneath him, but he still fucks her, and then he puts a ten in her hand and sends her on her way afterwards.

He doesn't head over to Harry's straight away, but jumps in the shower first. He ends up reaching for Liam's shampoo. It's not on purpose. He'd drunk, his shampoo is on the sink, and he can't be bothered to get out to grab it. And if he likes the way the smell of citrus surrounds him afterwards, that's his own damn business.

"Did you have fun?" Liam asks when he gets out of the shower.

Zayn blinks at him. The room is still a bit blurry, and he's not exactly steady on his feet. "Tons," Zayn answers.

"Good," Liam says, nodding. "She was pretty."

"Yeah?" Zayn frowns. "I guess."

Liam steps closer to him, until they're pressed flush together. He's waiting for Liam to kiss him, or say something. Instead, Liam raises his eyebrows. "Do you mind? I need to use the bathroom."

"Oh," Zayn steps out of the way. "Right."

He falls asleep with the smell of citrus covering up whatever perfume that girl had been wearing.