Archive of Our Own

Zayn thinks he could easily chalk this up to be one of the worst days he’s had in a while. It starts off with him waking up late, his alarm set for the evening instead of the morning, making him wake up late for his shift. After getting ready, he had to chase a bus two blocks before it stopped to grant him access, only he left his bus pass on his bedside table and didn’t have any cash, so the driver threw him out. It didn’t get better after that; instead he got his ass chewed out by his boss followed by a slew of angry customers. Then, on his way home, the strap of his bag broke, snapped completely on one side so he could only carry it on one shoulder.

It’s not going well, but he’s holding it together, just barely.

He’s walking behind a couple on his way home, sighing as he tries to weave through the crowded streets, everyone on their way home just like he is. But the couple in front of him, walking with their fingers intertwined, a good foot of space between them as they swing their arms back and forth, taking up more space than needed are slowing his journey down. He just wants to get home, to get to his bedroom where he can curl up in his bed and forget about the shitty day he’s been having.

Zayn tries his hardest to glare at them, hoping it’ll penetrate through their minds and they’ll understand that they’re slowing down the flow of traffic on the sidewalk. It doesn’t work, not like he expected it to, but while he continues to glare, he notices the spread of inked words along the back of the boy’s arm. The ‘I don’t think I have’ inked across his skin.

Zayn knows without having to ask that it’s the boy’s mark, it’s the string of words that connect him to the girl he’s holding onto. He knows it’s his mark because it’s a string of words that don’t make sense, much like the ‘Friday?’ he’s had etched on his collarbone his entire life.

He tries to spot the girl’s mark, unsuccessful with his limited access to her skin with seeing her from the back and with all her clothing on. It’s not surprising, but it’s one of his favorite things to do when he sees couples out, to find their marks and to make up a story in his mind about how they might have said those words to each other. It takes people watching to another level.

Zayn stares at the boy’s mark as he continues to walk behind them, wondering how many times the boy has heard those words spoken together in that order before he met the girl with the long flowing blond hair next to him.

Zayn’s had his mark spoken to him countless times, people inquiring, wondering why he would ever get those words inked on his skin, confusing it with the rest of his tattoos but not knowing it’s his mark. It makes him wonder how anyone could ever know that the person speaking the words to him or her for the first time is their soul mate or someone else.

Zayn’s read enough Internet articles about it, blog forums, people rambling on social media to know that no one can fully explain what it feels like to find your someone, because apparently, funnily enough, it’s different for everyone, and so far, in his experience, he thinks that’s why he hasn’t had any luck in finding the person meant for him.

Zayn remembers the way his parents described it, the butterflies in his mother’s stomach and the fuzzy feeling in his father’s head. He had stared at them in bewilderment when they told him, because he’s felt butterflies, and his brain has gone all fuzzy, but his mother assured him that he would know. It would be unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, his father added, even if it’s something Zayn’s not sure about, because he’s felt those things. People have made him feel that way, but they simply patted him on the head and told him to give it time.

He had asked Louis, having been there when he first met Nick. They were twelve and Nick was a nineteen year old attempting to skateboard for the first time. Nick had crashed into Louis while they were walking down the street, heading towards a park up the road, as Nick crashed into Louis, the two of them crashing to the ground while Nick mumbled out ‘oops’ and Louis said ‘get off me’. He’d seen the way they both stilled, the two of them staring at each other with wide eyes before laughing awkwardly and asking to see the others mark. And sure enough, written along Nick’s ribcage, and Louis’ forearm the words that just came spilling out of their mouths.

Louis had described it as feeling white-hot anger before a heavy feeling sunk deep in the pit of his stomach, like when his mother catches him doing something wrong and he knows that he’s going to be in trouble. Zayn had stared at him, shaking his head, because Louis is a special case, having found his soul mate when he was so young, even if it took ten years for them to finally get together, and Zayn’s just not sure if he can trust him on something like this.

Zayn wonders idly as he watches the couple head towards the other side of the street what it might be like when he finally meets the person designated for him. How, if what people say is true, he’ll feel when his mate says ‘Friday?’ to him.

~~~~~

Zayn’s still seven blocks from his apartment, staring ahead at the corner shop, wanting to grab a bottle of water to make his journey a little easier. He’s tired the couple from earlier having popped off in a restaurant five blocks back. He works a mile from home, and he knows that it’s only going to be twenty more minutes, but he could really use the refreshment.

When he gets there, he pushes the glass door open, hearing a bell ring, alerting the storekeeper that a new customer has arrived. His bus passes this place every day, but he’s never actually stepped inside. It’s just like any other store, rows and rows of snacks, candies, drinks, quick items that people would want to eat on the go or late at night, midnight munchies kicking in and not wanting to prepare a full meal but simply wanting a bag of chips or sour gummies.

It’s no different, except for the television perched up high on the wall, some sport on screen that Zayn can’t make out from his position, but it’s up loud, a crowd of people standing around the check out, shouting at the game.

He shakes his head as he passes through them, heading towards the back where the refrigerated section is. He grabs a water bottle and a frozen pizza, knows that Liam and Louis will be grateful that someone decided to pick dinner up. They’ve been competing in some kind of unspoken competition, one that consists of whom can go the longest being hungry before they snap and make the meal for the group. It’s usually Liam that caves, Louis skipping out to go have dinner at Nick’s and Zayn getting so wrapped up in his head that he forgets to eat most of the time anyway.

He flows through the aisles after he grabs his stuff, wanting to enjoy the cool air for a little while longer. He drags his hands along the metal surface of the shelves, eyes scanning the colorful plastic bags lining it.

The crowd at the front lets out a loud roar, screaming excitedly, jumping up and down and grabbing onto each other. He laughs lightly under his breath, watching the commotion while he grabs a bag from off the shelf.

The group begins to slowly disperse shortly after that, a tall boy with brown curly hair shouting for everyone to get out. Zayn looks at him, his eyes scanning over his lanky body, smirking to himself when he sees that the face accompanying the body isn’t bad to look at either. He tears his gaze away from him when he reaches the front of the counter, setting all of his items on top of it so he can get his wallet out of his bag.

“Friday? Huh, bit of a funny tattoo, mate,” he hears someone say and when he glances up he sees a blond smiling at him, pearly white teeth on display, shockingly blue eyes shining at him. He’s beautiful, and Zayn feels overwhelmed in every sense of the word. His tongue feels heavy, like a lead weight in his mouth that he can’t seem to get control over. His legs feel weak, his limbs heavy as he hands his credit card over, watching as the boy frowns at him but accepts it, rattling off his total. And that’s another thing, Zayn’s ears are ringing, he feels like the room is spinning beneath his feet and he can’t catch his breath, all he can do is stare at the boy in front of him in complete and utter amazement.

“Didn’t mean to insult ya,” the boy says again, looking down at Zayn. “Friend here has a lot of shit tattoos.”

“Heyy,” the boy next to him says the curly-haired one that kicked everyone out of the store. “Just because you haven’t got any doesn’t mean other people’s are shit.”

The blond laughs, his eyes crinkling shut and his head thrown back, exposing the pale skin of his neck. Zayn doesn’t know how to breathe.

He hands Zayn his card back and Zayn accepts it, scrambling to shove it back into his wallet and into his book bag before he grabs the plastic bag filled with everything he’s just bought. He can vaguely make out the curly-haired one telling him that he’s pretty fit and the blond asking if he’s all right as he struggles to remember how to function as a human being.

Zayn rushes out of the store, grabbing his items and fleeing, sparing an awkward wave over his shoulder before he begins sprinting down the street, plastic bag slapping against his thighs as he shoves his way through the crowded city.

He feels out of his skin and Zayn’s pretty sure that maybe, possibly on the worst day of his life that he might have met his soul mate. Maybe, if the overwhelming feeling that’s consuming him is anything to go by.

~~~~~

Zayn throws himself into his apartment, slamming the door closed and slumping against it. He’s out of breath, his chest rising and falling, quick puffs of air escaping his mouth as he scrambles for the water he bought. Ripping it open and taking long steady pulls from the bottle, he glances around, sucking the liquid out of the bottle as he tries to locate the sounds of his roommates. He can hear them shouting, yelling about something that he can’t make out. His fucking ears are still ringing.

He pulls himself up slowly, leaving his chips and the frozen pizza with his bag on the floor as he continues to drink the water and make his way through his apartment. Louis and Liam are sat on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some kind of video game. Zayn tries to see which one, he really does, but none of his senses are working. He can’t figure out what’s going on, so he stumbles in front of the television, dropping the empty water bottle on the ground, completely blocking the TV from view.

“Zayn, what the fuck,” Louis shouts, leaning to the right, trying to see around Zayn. “You do realize that you’re in the fucking way, right?”

“It’s nice to see you, man, but he’s right, can you scoot over a bit?” Liam asks, lowering his head down before throwing it to the left, shouting when Louis does something in the game. “Louis, don’t fucking cheat, I can’t see the right side of the screen, Zayn’s still in the way.”

“I think something’s happening to me,” Zayn says quietly, biting on his bottom lip as his vision finally focuses on his friends, their images coming into focus and he can finally see clearly. “I met a boy today.”

“Zayn, that’s really great. I’m happy for you, but if you don’t move out of the way, you might not live to see him again,” Louis says, never tearing his eyes away from the screen as he threatens Zayn. “Fuck yes. Take that, Payne.” He slams his controller down on the couch, jumping up off the couch and holding his hands up in the air, Liam shaking his head and dropping the controller down on the ground.

“That’s bullshit,” Liam mutters. “Obvious advantage, Zayn’s not taking up as much of your view. I had a handicap.”

“Full of excuses,” Louis counters. “No one likes a sore loser.”

“No one likes a sore winner either,” Liam replies, leaning back, pressing his back further into the cushions of the couch.

Before Louis can say anything back, and before Louis can hit Liam with the couch throw pillow, Zayn takes a deep breath and says loudly, “I think I met my soul mate.”

Louis and Liam both stop arguing, Louis’ arms dropping down to his side, dropping the pillow he had picked up, ready to start whacking Liam. Liam’s got his mouth open, his brown eyes shining with questions that he’s not asking, and Zayn feels like his knees are going to give out.

He’s still feeling overwhelmed, his head swirling and limbs shaking as he drops down in the arm chair, ignoring the nipping reminder in the back of his mind that no one sits here anymore because of the time they caught Louis and Nick having sex on it. He groans as he remembers, tossing his head back and letting out a deep, heavy sigh.

“What do you mean soul mate?” Louis asks, sitting back down on the couch and folding his legs underneath his body. “Like, um. What do you mean?”

“I went to grab some water at the shop down the road, I forgot my bus pass, and so I had to walk. Anyway, I popped in to get the water and the guy behind the counter, while ringing up my purchase says to me, ‘Friday?’”

“Zayn,” Liam says, laughing lightly. “That happens all the time. I mean, I’ve told you to stop using your bag, the straps pull down the collar of your shirts, and then everyone is wondering why on Earth you’d get a tattoo like that. He’s hardly the first person to say that to you when you first meet.”

“No,” Zayn says, shaking his head. He knows better than anyone how many people’s first words they have been when he first meets him or her. He knows. It happens at least five times a week, more if he wears shirts with looser collars. He knows and he doesn’t need Liam reminding him that he’s asked all the time. He fucking knows. “This was different. He said it to me and it’s like, I forgot how to breathe. I couldn’t feel my legs or my arms or my fingertips. All I could see was him; everything else was a fucking blur. It was like tunnel vision, or something. I don’t know what happened, but I think that he might be my one.”

“Shit,” Louis says, breathing out a sigh. “What’d you say to him?”

Zayn opens his mouth to reply but promptly closes it, remembering that he didn’t actually say anything to the boy in the shop. He didn’t utter a word to him or to his curly-haired friend. A wave of nausea washes over him and he has to lean forward, trying to put his head between his knees so he can stop the feelings swirling around inside of him. “Oh god,” he groans, squeezing his eyes together tight. He’s an idiot.

“I’m sure it couldn't be that bad. I mean, his first words to you are ‘Friday?’ so it’s not like he can really say anything is wrong with your words’,” Liam says, and Zayn groans again because Liam doesn’t get it. He wasn’t there to witness how horrific the situation actually was.

Zayn made himself out to be a complete fool in front of the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

He might throw up all over their shitty rug.

“All right, breathe,” Louis instructs, and suddenly there’s a hand running up and down his back, soft words being spoken in his ear as he tries to get his breathing to slow back down, to get his heart to stop hammering in his chest.

It takes a couple minutes, but Zayn is finally able to calm down. He finally stops panicking that he’s ruined his life forever and scared off the boy that could be his. It takes a while, but he manages to do it.

He sits up slowly, blinking slowly at his two best friends, watching as they exchange concerned looks.

“What happened?” Liam questions, studying Zayn carefully.

“I didn’t say anything to him,” Zayn says sucking in his bottom lip. “I wanted to, but everything just felt like it was too much. I couldn’t get my tongue to work, or my hands or my legs or my mind. I just stared at him while him and his friend kept asking if I was okay. I didn’t even say anything.”

“Zayn, everyone has a mark though. Maybe, maybe that means he’s not your soul mate. Maybe you just got worked up because you thought he was cute or something. Was he cute?” Louis inquires.

“Oh god, the cutest,” Zayn groans, throwing his head back into the cushion. “I didn’t even say anything. I fucked it up. I fucked it all up.”

“No you didn’t,” Liam says, trying his best to soothe Zayn, his hand squeezing Zayn’s thigh.

Zayn glances down at his friends, feeling just as pathetic as he felt before, especially now that his friends are trying everything in their power to get him to calm down.

“He might not be yours,” Louis says, trying his hardest to comfort Zayn. “I mean, Nick’s not the only person to say oops to me, and he’s not the first person to make me feel angry after hearing it. He’s probably just really fit, and he fucked with your head a bit, or something. Don’t freak out about it just yet, okay? If he’s your soul mate then you’re bound to run into him again, right?”

“Of course,” Liam agrees, nodding his head seriously. “I wouldn’t know, but Nick and Louis kept bumping into each other for years before they finally got it through their heads that they were mates.”

“Right,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Right. Okay, yeah. I might have freaked out a bit.” He runs his fingers through his hair, laughing lightly. “I definitely freaked out. We’ll just wait it out, see what happens.”

~~~~~

Zayn can’t sleep that night, the blankets wrapped around his waist. He lets out a tired groan into the relative silence of his room, the air almost undisturbed if it weren’t for the quiet giggles from Louis’ bedroom, and the sound of the television from the living room. Louis is probably up with Nick still, the latter coming over to eat the frozen pizza that Zayn bought, and Liam is probably asleep on the couch, having fallen asleep there again. It’s not a nightly routine, but it happens frequently, his room picking up more sounds from Louis’ than Zayn’s does.

He glances at his alarm clock, huffing in annoyance when he sees that it’s a little after three. He doesn’t have to work in the morning, but he doesn’t want to be awake all night. Zayn would actually like to sleep away the shitty feeling that settled over him in the last twenty-four hours.

Zayn spends most of the evening pretending that he wasn’t thinking about the pale, blond-haired, blue-eyed boy that works at the store down the street. It’s not so much that he’s still worried that he’s his soul mate, because thinking about it, that boy didn’t show any signs of feeling anything besides concern for Zayn.

He didn’t look overwhelmed like Zayn felt, or like something clicked in his head when they locked eyes. The sight of Zayn didn’t do anything for him, which is fine, but Zayn can’t stop wondering why he felt the way he did.

And Zayn can’t stop wondering why this inquiry about his mark felt different from all the others. Usually Zayn feels annoyance wash over his body, nothing that takes over his body, but just a flash of it deep in his chest as he fixes the person asking with a cold hard glare. Not this time, though.

Mostly Zayn thinks about why he hasn’t met his someone yet. Why hasn’t he been fortunate enough to be meant for someone so far?

He tried dating Geneva during high school, the relationship barely lasting a few months before she met a boy with her words etched on his skin. Then it was Rebecca, the single mom that he thought he could date in a rebellious streak against his mother, but she found her someone three weeks after they broke things off.

Zayn had hoped it would work out with Danny and then again with Perrie, and when he and Liam tried their hardest to pretend that soul mates weren’t a thing and they could do whatever they wanted without worry. It didn’t last long, none of them did. He knows that everyone has their mate, and it’s pointless to start something with someone else, not when you could meet your one at any moment.

He just wishes that he could meet his mate already. He wants to find the person meant for him, designed for him and no one else.

Zayn falls asleep hoping that he’s not wrong about the boy in the shop, his eyes flicking closed while images of bright blue flash through his mind.

~~~~~

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on him from above, making him feel uncomfortable in his skin as he weaves through sweaty, warm bodies on the street.

Zayn doesn’t know what made him want to slip out of his apartment to grab a cup of coffee, but he regrets it immensely now that his belly is fully of scolding liquid and beads of sweat are rolling down the back of his neck.

He’s only a few blocks from his apartment; close enough that he doesn’t actually need to catch a bus, but far away enough that he passes the same corner store from the day before.

It’s not like he was trying to walk past it, it just so happened to be on his path.

Zayn walks by slowly, trying his hardest to look casual as he peeks through the store windows, the glass itself is covered in signs promoting sales and sections of it hidden from shelves inside, but Zayn can’t mistake the tuft of blond hair and sparkling blue eyes that are shining across the store.

Zayn ducks down, sitting on the ledge of bricks along the bottom of the window and tries to catch his breath. The overwhelming feeling is back, his limbs beginning to prickle and fall limp, his tongue weighted down in his mouth, and his vision going in and out of focus.

He forces himself to take steady, calming breaths. He can’t understand why this is happening for a second time, what he’s done to deserve this, especially when the boy is inside the store, further away from him than he was yesterday, but he’s still making Zayn’s body feel like it’s on fire.

Everything feels out of control, and not in a good way. Zayn wonders if this is what babies feel like, having all the parts but not knowing how to use them properly.

Zayn pulls out his phone and opens his group chat with Liam and Louis, typing away madly, sending them a message that reads: on my way home and I saw the boy at the shop again, what should I do?

Lou: get us pizza again!

Li: go inside and say hi!!

Lou: go inside and say anything

He rolls his eyes at their responses, turning around to peek over his shoulder to make sure the blond is still inside the store as he types back, want to join me?

~~~~~

“What did you bring him for?” Zayn grits out, glaring at Louis as he takes in the sight of Nick trailing lazily behind him and Liam. It’s embarrassing enough that he needs the support of his friends to just look at someone that might be his soul mate, but it’s a cherry on top of his misery to have Louis’ lanky boyfriend tagging along.

“Well, we were in the middle of something very important, Zayn,” Louis states, rolling his eyes. “I couldn’t just leave him at our apartment.”

“You were arguing about the end of Titantic,” Liam says, matter of fact. “You were literally arguing about if you were Rose, whether you would allow him on the door with you or not. He said you would and you said that you wouldn’t. You were arguing. It was nothing important.”

“Excuse me, Liam,” Louis replies, huffing out in annoyance. “It was important, because he thinks that I’d let him live.”

“You would,” Zayn and Liam reply at the same time.

“I wouldn’t, actually, so jokes on you three, isn’t it?” Louis says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Nicholas, they think you’re important, isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious,” Nick drawls out, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Care to explain why we had to come to this shop or are you going to leave me clueless?”

“Well I don’t know, not with an attitude like that,” Louis mutters, reaching up to tweak one of Nick’s nipples.

Zayn rolls his eyes, quickly glancing over his shoulder in time to see the curly haired boy from yesterday packing his back. “We don’t have much time,” he groans, slapping Louis’ hand to get it off Nick’s nipple. “He’s in there.”

“Which one is he?” Liam asks and Zayn turns to see Liam with his hands cupped against the glass, his face pressed close as tries to catch a peek inside.

“Oh god,” Zayn groans. “The blond. He’s the blond. No, please don’t all look.”

His words go unnoticed as Nick and Louis join Liam against the glass, Louis whistling in approval and Liam saying that he seems nice. Zayn glares at them, trying his hardest to look stern as he rattles off instructs that they’re going to go inside and pretend to shop, but not really pretend because everyone is going to grab one thing, just something so it doesn’t look obvious what they’re doing.

When they all nod their heads and Zayn has taken his last deep breath, they head inside.

The curly-haired boy is bouncing around in front of the checkout counter, holding two different chocolates in his hands, mulling over which one he needs, the blond laughing at something the brunette just said.

Zayn immediately grabs Liam’s elbow, pulling him through the store to the back while Nick and Louis go their own way. Zayn can hear Nick and Louis through the shelves, the couple arguing once more.

“We don’t need the barbeque flavored; we need the sour cream flavored.”

“I don’t like the sour cream flavored.”

“I didn’t ask what you liked, did I? You asked which was needed for your apartment and I’m telling you, because I know that you already have about three bags of the barbeque ones shoved in the back of your pantry.”

“How would you know what I need for my apartment, you don’t live there?”

Zayn winces because he knows that’s a tough subject for Louis, his outgoing friend having confessed to him several times that he’s worried Nick will never ask him to move in with him and they’ll be living separately for the rest of their lives. And Zayn was right to wince, because he can hear Louis practically shout, “and whose fault is that?”

“They’re going to kill each other one day,” he hears Liam mutter from next to him, his gaze fixed on a box of instant noodles. He nods his head and grabs them, shoving them underneath his arm. “I’ve got my one item, what about you?”

Zayn glances around the aisle they’re in, it’s all instant meals and he reaches out and grabs a box of cereal, holding it up in the air. It’s not a wasted purchase; they’re almost out, so even though they’re staking out the store, he’s actually benefiting himself and both Liam and Louis. “I’ll get this.”

Liam nods and turns around, making his way towards the front of the store and Zayn walks behind him, walking closely and trying to get a peek of the blond over Liam’s shoulder.

As they get closer, Zayn can hear the curly-haired brunette; he’s shoving one of the chocolate bars into his bag and muttering under his breath. Zayn doesn’t catch the beginning of it, but he hears the end, he hears the “everything I wanted but nothing I’ll ever need” right before he glances up and smiles at Liam and Zayn before he turns back to the blond.

And suddenly Zayn slams into Liam’s back, his friend turning around and grasping onto Zayn’s wrist, dragging him back to the safety of the instant-boxed meals aisle. “Oh my god,” he says, breathing the words out and Zayn stares at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn questions, his wrist beginning to ache under Liam’s firm hold, he tries to shake it out but Liam’s grip only tightens.

“That’s my mark. What he just said, that’s my mark. That’s my fucking mark,” Liam says. “I’ve never heard anyone say it before. He said it. He said my mark.” Liam lets go of Zayn’s wrist to hold his arm in the air, practically shoving it in Zayn’s face to show off the words embedded in his skin. “I feel so… I feel so, god, I can’t even explain it.”

Yeah, Zayn thinks. He knows the feeling. “Go talk to him,” Zayn says, shoving Liam gently, trying to get him to back out of the aisle, because holy fucking shit.

“I don’t know what to say. What should I say?”

“I don’t know. If he’s your soul mate then whatever you say will be right, so just go out there and say what the first thing that comes to your mind is,” Zayn encourages, trying his best to smile even though a feeling of dread is washing over him, because there’s no way that the curly boy can be Liam’s soul mate and the blond could be his own. It doesn’t work like that. Friends don’t go out together and just so happen to meet their mates at the same time.

Zayn feels his stomach sink, but he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment for Liam like he ruined his moment for himself.

“Right, okay,” Liam says, taking a deep breath before he walks back out of the aisle. Zayn follows behind him, watching from around the corner as he curly-haired boy is almost out of the store. He can see Liam falter before he practically screams, “hi.”

Liam’s voice is so loud that Zayn winces, forcing Louis, Nick, the blond employee, other store patrons and the curly-haired boy to all turn and glance in his direction.

Zayn quickly steps out and pushes Liam, trying to help guide him over towards the brunette. “Hi,” Liam repeats again. He stumbles over towards the brunette, the latter stepping back in the shop and casting a curious glance over towards his friend behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” The brunette says, his eyes scanning over Liam’s body. He’s squinting, reaching a hand up to rub at his temple and that’s when Zayn knows, he can tell when he sees the cloudy look flash behind his eyes that Liam was right about him, and he can’t help the feeling of hopelessness that passes through his own body.

“I, um. I, well, this is really funny,” Liam coughs out, hand coming up and scratching his buzzed hair.

The brunette’s eyes follow his movements, reading over the words on his arms that Liam hadn’t meant for him to see. Zayn watches with bated breath, watches as the brunette smiles widely and jumps forward, wrapping his spindly arms around Liam’s neck.

“What’s going on with your friend and mine?”

Zayn’s eyes seek out the source of the voice, faltering when he sees that the blond is out from behind the counter and standing next to Zayn with his arms folded over his chest.

“Um,” Zayn says, sophisticated and smartly. “Marks.”

“Really?” The boy asks, turning to look at Zayn and Zayn nods quickly, letting him know that he’s being serious. “Well, no wonder Harry is so happy; he only has about a hundred different people a day saying hi to him. Who would have thought that he’d meet his mate here, right?”

“Right,” Zayn says, leaving out the part where he thought that he might have. The blond still isn’t acting funny towards him, but Zayn’s vision is slowly starting to blur at the edges, focusing in on the blond and nothing else.

A young girl approaches the counter and the blond quickly moves away from Zayn, running behind it to help her complete her purchase. Zayn watches him, studies his mouth as he talks to her, studies the twinkle in his eyes, studies the freckles trailing down the side of his face and onto his neck. It’s like Zayn’s eyes are unable to pick up anything besides every detail of the boys face because he can’t, for the life of him, get his gaze to turn away.

When the girl leaves, the blond turns and smiles at Zayn again, leaning down to rest his head in his hands, his elbow perched on the counter top. “What’s your friend’s mark?”

Zayn coughs, clearing his throat of any obstructions so his voice won’t fail him. “Everything I wanted but nothing I’ll ever need.”

The blond’s eyebrows knit together in concentration for a brief moment before he laughs, his mouth opening wide and his eyes crinkling shut, a melodic sound filling the air and making Zayn’s head spin. “Your friends mark is from Harry expressing his love for chocolate and how it’s bad for him.”

Zayn laughs, it sounds foreign, like he’s choking on it but the blond is smiling at him and he can’t find it in him to care that he’s probably making a fool of himself.

“Zayn, it looks like you made a friend. Introduce me to your friend.”

Zayn winces at the sound of Louis’ voice, forgetting completely that someone other than the blond was in the store with him. Well, someone in the store that wasn’t blocking the entrance and talking to his newly found soul mate.

“’m Niall,” the blond, Niall offers, waving at Louis and Nick. “Friend of curly over there.”

“Ah, I was wondering where he came from,” Louis says, nodding his head as he dumps his basket out on the counter. “I’ve got a bit more coming, my boyfriend is a bit of an idiot and he’s old, so he takes forever to do things.”

“Right here, love,” Nick states, reaching over Louis’ shoulder to drop a jar of salsa on the counter.

“I know,” Louis says, turning around to smile sweetly at his boyfriend. Zayn rolls his eyes, making the blo- no, Niall snort. “Anyway, why is Liam talking to curly?”

“They’re soul mates,” Zayn says easily, enjoying the way Louis’ eyebrows raise briefly before his jaw drops, unable to believe that Zayn was telling the truth at first.

“You’re being serious?” Nick asks, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

“Yup, was standing with Liam when—uh, what’s his name again?”

“Harry,” Niall supplies while he scans Nick and Louis’ food items, not bothering to look up.

“Yeah, I was standing with Liam, getting ready to buy our stuff when Harry over there said his words, then Liam had a bit of a freak out and that’s why he practically screamed hi at the back of Harry’s head, but according to Niall, that’s Harry’s mark,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. He drops his cereal on the counter. “Oh, Liam’s got some instant noodles. Can you ring that up without me having to grab it from him?”

“Already did it,” Niall replies.

When Zayn turns around Louis is looking at him carefully, his eyes flicking back and forth between Zayn and Niall, a silent question inside of them. Zayn simply shrugs his shoulders, because he knows what Louis is asking, but he’s not going to tell him that he’s not all right. He doesn’t know how he feels about everything that’s happening around him. His head is still pounding, his thoughts swirling around so rapidly that he’s unable to grasp any of them. His vision is still fucked, but he’s trying his hardest to hold it together, at least while he’s standing in front of Niall, the blond babbling out a total.

Louis tears his gaze away from Zayn to elbow Nick in the ribs, telling him that he’s the one with the big boy job, so he’s the one buying everything; especially since most of it is for his apartment not their apartment.

~~~~~

Zayn stares at the ceiling above his bed, watching as the shadows and glow of the streetlights cast an orange hue across his ceiling, breaking up the blackness.

He’s been locked in his room for hours, having faked a stomachache when he returned home with Liam and Harry, Louis had skipped off to go to Nick’s for the night, but not before he whispered in Zayn’s ear about how fit his cute little blond was. Zayn had shoved him off with a glare, grateful that Harry was too wrapped up in Liam to really pay attention to what anyone else was saying or doing.

Harry’s still over, Zayn can hear him and Liam in the other room, talking to each other in loud, excited voices.

From what Zayn’s heard on the walk home and through the walls so far, Harry seems like a nice guy, and a bit of a chatterbox, if Zayn’s being honest. He’s a year younger than Liam, and he’s got an older sister that he adores, and cat that he adores even more, except Zayn thinks he was lying about that because of the way he had giggled and dropped his hand lower on Liam’s arm, his fingers fitted around his biceps.

Harry’s also unemployed, spending most of his time shuffling from job interview to job interview when he’s not hanging out at the store with Niall, his roommate and cat sitter.

Zayn’s happy for Liam, he is, because Liam is one of the greatest people that he knows, and he deserves to have met his soul mate. He deserves the permanent smile on his face, the permanent blush to his skin, and the permanent sparkle in his eyes as he looks at Harry while he rattles off his life story.

Zayn’s happy for him, he is. He really, really is. But… He sighs as he thinks about it, rolling onto his side and dragging his blankets up over his head, breathing in the warm air that’s trapped beneath his blanket. He feels bad for thinking about this, Zayn does, the thoughts nipping away at him and making him feel like a horrible friend, because he knows, deep down that should be him and Niall.

It should be him and Niall giggling in his living room, forcing Liam to listen to them tell each other everything they can about each other. It should be Liam listening as Niall laughs at the witty things Zayn says, if he were capable of speech around the blond. It should be Niall scooting closer and closer to him, sneaking his hand across his body, and eating up everything he’s saying because he cares, because they’re made for each other.

But Zayn fucked it all up, he had one chance to find out if Niall is his soul mate and he ruined it, his stupid mouth unable to move and form words.

Zayn groans as the memory flashes through his mind, a frustrated sigh escaping from between his lips.

Maybe it shouldn’t be Niall and him out there, but he wishes that it was, which has to count for something, right?

~~~~~

The sun is shining through the cracks in Zayn’s curtains when he wakes up the following day, the clock on the side of his bed informing him that it’s almost two in the afternoon. He groans tiredly, rubbing at his eyes and glancing around his room.

He pulls his body out of bed slowly, stretching his limbs out before he drags himself into the kitchen. He’s making a bowl of cereal when he sees Louis shuffle in, a bag slung of his shoulder and his hair damp. He looks tired, like he’s only been awake for a short while. Zayn knows that Nick wakes up early, well before the sun rises and works until the evening, forcing Louis to be alone in his apartment until Louis decides to come home.

Louis falls into the seat next to him and Zayn slides his bowl of cereal over, offering it to Louis before he grabs another bowl and joins him at the table.

“You all right?” Zayn mumbles out, studying Louis carefully.

“’M fine, just tired,” Louis replies, mouth full of food. “Would have been home sooner but I needed to grab some clothes from Nick’s place, can’t get through the week without them, unfortunately.”

Zayn hums, nodding his head in understanding. “You know, you might not have this problem if you just, you know, moved your stuff back into this apartment. Or, you know, just moved yourself into that apartment. Just a thought.”

Louis huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Not moving in until he asks.”

“Well, when everything you own is already there, I’m sure he’s just confused about what he should be asking you, but he will, eventually.”

Louis swallows. “Maybe, until then I’ll just wait.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s not a big deal; like this isn’t a conversation they’ve had a million different times. “How were things here last night? How were the newfound soul mates?”

“They kept me awake all night,” Zayn mumbles, sucking a bit of milk off his spoon. Louis raises his eyebrows and Zayn shakes his head. “No, not like that. I could just hear them talking. I don’t think Harry knows how to shut up, not like Liam’s any better.”

“Two peas in a pod,” Louis sings, winking at Zayn. “They’re made for each other, kind of comes with the territory.”

“Yeah,” Zayn mutters, trying his best to swallow the miserable feeling sinking in the pit of his stomach. “I know.”

Louis’ looking at him, an eyebrow raised as he drops his spoon in his bowl, the metal clanking against the ceramic, his cereal finished. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Zayn sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s just. We were there for me. You know? We were going to figure out if Niall was my mate, not to find Liam’s.” He swallows, feeling a bit like an ass. “I’m sorry. That’s… I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I’m happy for Liam, he deserves someone.”

Louis reaches out and squeezes Zayn’s wrist, smiling at him a little fondly. “We can still find out if Niall is yours. We can get Harry to bring Niall over, get to know our best friend’s someone and his best friend. We’ll ask Liam to do it.” Louis shrugs his shoulders, nodding his head like the task is pretty much taken care of just because he said it out loud.

“What can I do?” Liam asks, entering the kitchen with an odd look on his face. He’s shirtless, water trickling down his chest from his shower.

Louis turns in his seat, facing Liam. “We want you to ask Harry to bring Niall over. Zayn still wants to know if he’s the one for him, you kind of stole his spotlight yesterday, Liam.”

Liam frowns, his eyebrows pulling together. “I’m sorry,” he says, turning to look at Zayn. “I didn’t mean- I mean, we all have our someone and we can’t control when we meet them, you know? I didn’t think he’d be there. I-“ Liam’s frown deepens, his bottom lip sticking out a bit, like a child. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Li,” Zayn says, standing up slowly and wrapping his arms around Liam. “I was just being an idiot, don’t worry about it.”

“You could make it up to him by making sure that Niall’s here tonight. I’m just saying,” Louis says, grinning when Zayn and Liam turn around to glare at him. “Come on, even if Niall’s not Zayn’s soul mate – doubtful since he didn’t even say anything to him – Zayn still thinks that’s he’s cute, and he still turns into a blubbering, blushing mess.”

“Don’t listen to him, he keeps his clothes at his boyfriend’s apartment instead of in his own,” Zayn mutters, trying to defend himself.

“No, no, I’ll talk to Harry.” Liam blushes, smiling slowly. “He just left this morning, so he’s probably sleeping but I’ll text him and tell him to call me when he’s up. He was going to come over anyway.”

“Liam, you dog,” Louis shouts, banging his fist on the table. And Zayn laughs, watching as Louis jumps out of his seat and onto Liam’s back, tweaking his nipple while Liam laughs, shaking his head, his cheeks still burning red.

~~~~~

Zayn’s alone when Harry stumbles into their apartment, tripping over his feet and smiling bashfully at Zayn. Zayn stares at him in confusion, glancing around to try and figure out why Harry is walking into their apartment on only his second visit. He finally sighs, realizing that he doesn’t really care.

“Niall’s coming. I promise,” Harry says as way of greeting, toeing off his boots and then shrugging out of his sweater.

Zayn takes a step back, bumping into the couch as he stares at Harry. “Um.” He swallows, nodding his head dumbly, unsure of what all Harry knows, probably everything if he knows Liam.

“Liam told me that you think he might be your soul mate,” Harry explains, striding across the room with ease and dropping down onto the couch behind Zayn. “He didn’t tell me everything, just about your marks and stuff and how your mark was the Friday thing, but you didn’t say anything back so you’re not sure. Honestly, I don’t even know what Niall’s mark is, and we’re best friends. Supposed to be best friends. I could pretend to hate him, if you wanted me to, I’m sure he’d tell me after that.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zayn mumbles, moving to sit down on the couch. He sits on the opposite end, tucking his legs under his body. “I’d rather Niall didn’t suspect anything, if we could keep it between us. I mean.” He sighs, shaking his head. “He’d probably hate me if he found out, right?”

“Niall doesn’t hate anyone,” Harry states, his expression very serious. “But I didn’t tell him anyway. I almost did, but I just said that it was imperative that he got close with my soul mate.” Harry is smiling so widely that Zayn worries that his face is going to get stuck that way. “Did Liam say anything about me?”

“Not much, but I heard enough last night to know everything.”

“Sorry. I’ve just…” Harry pauses, frowning to himself. “My mark is hi. It’s hard, you know? Everyone is always saying it to me, random strangers on the street, store workers, and friends of friends, potential employers. It’s hard to know, because you don’t know what your one’s mark is, you know? So like, I’m always hopeful, but no one ever gives me a chance, no one ever looks at me like anything I’ve said affected them. It’s hard. Meeting Liam was… I mean, he’s great, but I’m just happy my search is over, you know?”

Zayn nods his head. He doesn’t really understand, not really. Zayn had given up a long time ago thinking that someone could possibly be his soul mate from the words permanently engraved in his skin, so he doesn’t understand the overwhelming sense of relief that Harry is describing to him. All Zayn has is a blond shop worker with dazzling blue eyes and a contagious laugh, no knowledge if he’s his or not.

“Niall’s great, you know. You’d be lucky if he were your mate.” Harry nods his head, smiling at him.

“What are you doing here so soon?”

Zayn and Harry turn their heads at the same time to see Louis and Liam standing in the entrance to the living room, the latter with an odd look on his face as he stares at Harry. Zayn wonders if that’s the look that crossed his features when he first saw Niall.

“Just having a chat with Zayn is all,” Harry says, stepping up from the couch to wrap his arms around Liam’s waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw line.

“Where’s the blond?” Louis questions, dropping down in Harry’s spot, forcing the pair to occupy the chair next to the couch, the one Nick fucked Louis on.

“Niall’s coming. He should be here any-“

Harry’s sentence is cut off by a tentative knock on the door and Zayn’s stomach drops down to his feet. “I’m going to be sick,” he mumbles, feeling as the bile rises in his throat. He shuffles across the couch, shoving his face into Louis’ neck.

“You’ll be fine,” Louis mutters, patting him on the back. Zayn nods his head and then listens as footsteps float across the apartment until the door is being pulled open and someone, by the sounds of it Harry, let’s Niall in.

Zayn pulls his face away in time to see Niall drop down on the couch next to him, casting an awkward wave in Louis and Zayn’s direction. “Hello,” he says, smiling at everyone.

“Hello, Niall. Fancy seeing you here,” Louis says, reaching across Zayn to bump fists with Niall. “You remember Zayn, right?”

Zayn smiles at Niall, watching as the blond tears his eyes away from Louis to nod his head, smiling back at Zayn. “Yeah, I remember. You all right?”

Zayn blinks, trying to get his vision to stop going in and out of focus. It’s a bit annoying at this point, his body’s inability to function around Niall. He nods his head, hoping it’s enough for Niall, because he still feels like he might be sick. Zayn can smell him, his cologne, and the scent wraps around him like a blanket, smothering him and overpowering his senses.

Everything about Niall is overwhelming.

“Niall, tell me. Do you go to school?” Louis questions, pushing Zayn’s head out of his way. “We know you work, but what else do you do? Any hobbies?”

“Um. No,” Niall replies. He shakes his head, a careful look on his face. “I’m too busy providing for that lazy ass over there.”

“Heyyy,” Harry whines, pouting. “I give you money for rent. I’m not completely useless.” He huffs out a breath of annoyance, smiling when Liam’s arms tighten around his waist.

Zayn rolls his eyes because honestly, they’ve known each other for two days and they’re already acting worse than Nick and Louis ever have. Zayn finds himself wanting to be sick for another reason, this sick aimed towards Harry and Liam instead of from the way his head is spinning.

“Yeah, this month,” Niall replies, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Anyway, to answer your question, I work at the store most of the time. I don’t really have many hobbies; I like my guitar, like singing a bit as well. Love eating.” He smiles widely, winking at the room at large and Zayn’s heart beats in his chest wildly, like a lovesick teenager.

“Our Zayn here loves to sing, voice of an angel that one,” Louis says, nudging Zayn in the back.

“Really? You sing?” Niall asks and Zayn doesn’t miss the way that he attempts to be discrete as he scratches his thigh, close to the inseam of his jeans. Zayn has to widen his eyes to keep them from staring at Niall’s crotch.

“It’s nothing,” Zayn mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. “Just something that I enjoy from time to time.”

“Oh Zayn, don’t be so modest,” Louis says, nudging him in the back again. “He’s always modest. He’s also a little shy, sometimes forgetting how to speak. It’s quite adorable really.” Louis sighs and Zayn turns around to fix him with an angry glare before he whips back around to face Niall, cheeks burning as he laughs lightly. “Anyway, tell us about you, Niall. I’d love to know more about you.”

“I’m not a natural blond?” Niall states, looking between Zayn and Louis, unsure about what it is he should be saying. “I moved here a few years ago and I’m trying to save up enough money so I can go to school.”

“What do you want to study?” Louis questions. “But it’s very admirable that you’re wanting to go to school. An education is very important. Being intelligent and educated is very sexy, right Zayn?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, nodding his head. His skin feels like it’s on fire, his blush fierce and strong, getting worse by the second.

“I’m not really sure what my major will be, if that’s what you’re asking, but something in sound, music, you know.” Niall shrugs his shoulders and Zayn is half tempted to ask him to sing for him. He wants to grab a book off his bedside table, hand it to Niall and beg him to just sing it to him. He’s never even heard him sing and Zayn already knows that it’s going to be his most favorite sound in the world.

“Very good. Very good. Now, for the tough questions,” Louis says, rubbing his hands together. “Are you into boys, Niall?”

Zayn’s neck almost snaps as he turns around to look at Louis, trying his hardest to make his facial expression say, knock it the fuck off.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Niall inquires. “Would he be upset with you asking me this? Not like it matters, don’t really have a gender preference, but I’m not going to get in the middle of anything.”

“Please, my boyfriend has nothing to worry about,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. “You’re not that special.” The second part is mumbled under his breath, so quiet that Zayn knows that Niall couldn’t have possibly heard it, but it doesn’t stop him from elbowing Louis in the ribs.

“Leave him alone,” Zayn grits out quietly. “Shut up.”

“Well fine,” Louis huffs out, standing up from the couch slowly, brushing his clothes off as he does it. “I can see that my presence isn’t wanted. I know when to leave. I’ll just go bother my aging boyfriend.” He smiles and waves over his shoulder before he disappears, not even being kind enough to give Zayn a moment to protest.

Harry and Liam are wrapped up in each other, whispering into each other’s cheeks, giggling madly. They’re of no use to Zayn, they don’t care that his vision is blurry around the edges or that his skin is prickling or that he can hardly formulate a sentence when he’s with Niall. And Louis, the only person keeping the conversation going, albeit not the way that Zayn wanted, has rushed out of the apartment in a hurry.

Zayn laughs awkwardly, tugging at his shirt collar and smiling at Niall. “Um.”

Niall’s eyes are tracking the movement of his hand, watching as Zayn tugs on his shoulder collar. “You never explained this Friday to me,” Niall says, reaching out and brushing his fingertips across the words. Zayn feels a jolt rip through his body, rolling down his spine and causing a flutter in his stomach.

Zayn doesn’t get a chance to reply because Harry’s barking out a laugh, his eyes going wide before he claps a hand over his mouth, glancing around the room frantically. Liam is staring at him, adoration in his eyes.

Zayn really needs to get a bucket. He keeps saying it, but one of these times he’s actually going to be sick all over them. “Do you want to go outside?” Zayn asks, turning to look at Niall. It’s probably the best sentence he’s ever formed around the blond, but he needs to get away from the constant reminder that Liam found his soul mate where Zayn was supposed to meet his.

So he’s a little bit bitter, sue him.

Zayn leads Niall out on the balcony when Niall nods his head, pushing one of the iron chairs across the concrete for Niall to sit down on. He sides down next to him, reaching over his shoulder to pull the door closed, closing the barrier between the inside and the outside, between him and Niall and the mushy lovebirds.

“They’re a bit much, huh?” Niall says, staring off in the distance.

“You didn’t have to hear them all night,” Zayn mumbles, making Niall laugh. “I could probably tell you Harry’s life story, if you’re interested, starting from his earliest memory of his mom got him a black and white dog. Or, if you’re not into that, we could go the route and talk about the scar on his elbow.”

“He was jumping across rocks in the creek, got his foot caught on a tree root and fell, his elbow hitting the edge of a rock,” Niall mutters, turning to smile at Zayn. “I was the idiot who told him it’d be a fun game.”

“So you’ve heard the one about the time he straightened his hair and cried, right?”

Niall laughs, the sound shooting out of his mouth and filling the air. His face is all crinkled up, besides his mouth; it’s hanging wide open as he clutches his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. Nothing Zayn said was that funny, but he takes pride in knowing that he’s the one to have made that sound come out of Niall.

When Niall finally settles down, he wipes the tears out of his eyes and looks at Zayn, his blue eyes glowing in the light of the setting sun. “You know, I think I’m going to like you.”

Zayn smiles, muttering a quiet me too under his breath. Niall doesn’t mean it in the same way that Zayn does, or at least he doesn’t think so, but the words settle down deep inside of him, planting some kind of spark. A wave of determination floods through him, because Zayn’s not sure what it means, but his heart is pounding in a rhythm that feels an awful lot like the vibrations of Niall’s laugh floating through the air, and soul mates be damned, Zayn’s not sure he can let this feeling go. Not when Niall is smiling at him, rattling on about his childhood growing up with Harry, telling him stories that Zayn heard through his bedroom wall all right, but he doesn’t stop. He listens, because the stories sound like music when they’re told by Niall, and Zayn’s desperate to keep it playing as long as he can.

~~~~~

Zayn’s still sitting on the balcony long after Harry and Niall have left, staring at the expanse of city visible from their apartment window. It’s barely a view, living above a laundromat, but it’s enough when his mind is occupied with thoughts of the blond.

Once Zayn had started talking, he found that he wasn’t able to stop. There was something about Niall that set his mind at ease, allowing him to open up completely without fear that the other boy would reject something he had to say. Niall listened to everything, swallowing it up and encouraging Zayn to give him more without downright asking for it. There was just something about him that made Zayn want to spill all of his secrets, line them up for him and show Niall who he is, not on a superficial level, but who he is when he’s alone and no one is around to witness it.

The longer they spent together – which turned out to be hours before Harry came crawling outside, begging Niall to take him home because he was tired – the more that Zayn found his vision coming back into full focus, his mind clearing up, and his senses returning to normal.

“How you doing out here lover boy?” Comes the sound of Liam’s voice, followed by the whine of the door as it’s being closed, effectively tearing Zayn’s thoughts away from the blond and back to reality.

“Think I should call you that, actually,” Zayn smiles up at Liam, raising his eyebrows suggestively, and Liam at least has the decency to blush, knowing full well what Zayn is implying.

“Please don’t,” Liam begs, rubbing at his burning cheeks.

“You seem to really like Harry. I know the feeling is mutual, he babbled about you a bit when he first got here, stumbling into our apartment without even knocking.”

“Sorry, he’s really excited about this soul mate thing. He’s already stolen a few of my shirts,” Liam mumbles, offering a small smile towards Zayn. “It’s so overwhelming, Zayn. I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t have a plan and it’s making me feel a bit out of my skin. Harry makes me feel like I’m having some out of body experience, like it’s a dream.”

“Normally I’d say be careful,” Zayn says, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “But I don’t think it really matters what I say now, you’re going to be together for the rest of your lives.”

“It’s really weird,” Liam breathes out, sounding slightly amazed. “We’ve just met, you know, and it’s like, he’s never going anywhere, ever, but it’s like I’ve known him forever. I know absolutely nothing about him, besides the things he’s told me, but I have these base urges telling me to just grip onto him and never let go.”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, nodding along sympathetically. “I can’t say I know what it feels like, you know that, but I’d imagine that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. I mean, Louis hated Nick for a long time but it didn’t stop him from practically mauling every boy that came within a ten foot radius of Nick, even when he was thirteen.”

“They’ve literally been together forever,” Liam mutters. “It’s just, it’s so crazy. The stories people tell can never prepare you. I can’t even describe how it feels, Zayn. Harry says he feels warm, like he’s radiating the sun, but it’s different for me.”

Zayn nods his head, listening as Liam tells him more about the out of body feeling he has when he’s with Harry. Zayn spares a moment to think about his own overwhelming inability to function when he’s looking at Niall. Liam’s right, none of the stories they tell you can prepare you for how you feel. None of the stories can prepare you for when you meet someone that you wholeheartedly believe is your soul mate, even when they’re not.

“I’m so sorry,” Liam rambles, placing a firm hold on Zayn’s knee. “I keep talking about Harry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, you’re happy.” Zayn shrugs his shoulders. He can’t be mad at Liam for his happiness, even though it makes him want to throw up.

“But tonight was about you and Niall, I completely neglected that.” Liam looks at him, a deep frown etched on his face before it slowly turns into a smile. “But it looked like things were going okay from where I sat. Did everything turn out all right?”

“It was amazing,” Zayn sighs, smiling lazily. “You know how hard it is for me to talk to people, right? But it’s so easy with Niall. I don’t even remember what I said, but he was listening, really listening, I could tell. He laughed at all my horrible jokes, and I was probably making a fool of myself, but he made me feel good. Like what I was saying mattered, you know?”

“That’s good, I’m happy for you.” Liam is smiling at him and Zayn feels a bit like he’s on the clouds.

“He’s nice… and funny. God, he’s so funny. He doesn’t even have to try.” Zayn’s rambling, he knows this, but he thinks he could talk about Niall for the rest of his life, it feels like it anyway. “Did you like him?”

“Yeah, he was great, from what I saw anyway,” Liam says, shrugging his shoulders. “But it doesn’t really matter what I think, it matters what you think. Do you still think you’re soul mates?”

Zayn doesn’t answer, just bites his bottom lip and looks at Liam with sad eyes, wishing internally that his instincts weren’t wrong.

~~~~~

The next couple weeks pass by in a flourish, moving quickly. Everything seems to change during that time. Louis had begun to desperately drop hints to Nick that he wants to be formally invited to move in, instead of just moving his body in like he did with all his stuff. He’s taken to pulling up articles on the internet about how to ask your significant other up on Nick’s phone, complaining about having to live with Liam and Zayn, and referring to Nick’s apartment as their apartment. Nick’s still just as oblivious as he was before, ignoring the articles, patting Louis on the back sympathetically with one hand, the other working through Louis’ hair when he complains, and never bothering to correct Louis or ask why he calls it their apartment. Zayn’s pretty sure that Louis is going to kill him, or he would, if he could live without him.

Liam and Harry’s relationship is moving along rapidly, the two of them spending nearly every moment together. Harry’s practically moved in, never going home and wearing Liam’s clothes until Niall brings him a bag full of fresh clothes. Zayn’s stopped caring when he walks out of his room in the morning to find Harry in his underwear, standing in front of the stove and fixing them all breakfast. Zayn’s stopped caring because with Harry around they no longer have to starve in a desperate attempt to get other people to make the house meals. Harry is more than willing to take on that role, telling Zayn that it’s the least he can do since they’ve pretty much taken him in.

Harry’s also taken to spending his days with Liam at the gym, watching him from behind the desk while Liam trains his clients. Niall’s only complained about it a few times, joking with Harry that he’s broken his heart and he’s desperately lonely at the store.

Zayn knows that’s a lie, because over the past few weeks Zayn has taken to walking home from work, popping into Niall’s store for a bottled water after every shift to find a giant crowd of people with the blond, all shouting at the television perched on the wall, a different sporting event on it every time Zayn comes in.

And that’s another thing, Niall always breaks up the crowd when he sees Zayn, offering him a wave and forcing everyone out of the store, shouting about a bunch of dead beats with a smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling as he looks at Zayn. The two of them have been getting along swimmingly, Zayn’s vision and head have stopped fucking up, but his stomach still flutters every time Niall looks at him.

Currently all five of them are crammed into Zayn, Louis and Liam’s kitchen, sitting around the table, eating pizza. There are three boxes open on the table, everyone passing slices across the table and happily eating, enjoying each other’s company.

“Harry stop trying to feed Liam pizza, please,” Louis groans, his mouth stuffed with cheese and pepperoni. “I’m going to be sick.”

Harry smirks, continuing to hold the slice in front of Liam’s face until Liam takes a bite, ignoring Louis to smile at Harry.

“I’m going to be sick,” Zayn mutters, his voice quiet but Niall hears him, the blond barking out a laugh, tipping back in his seat as he cackles.

“I came here for pizza, not to be subjected to this. Honestly, Liam,” Louis whines, glaring at the pair of them. “You’re revolting. Disgusting. This is the dinner table!”

“At least you get to leave,” Zayn mumbles. “I’m stuck here. You think this is bad, you should hear them at night. Not sure what’s going on in there, but I hear a lot of furniture slamming and moaning, so either they’re moving furniture every night until their backs are sore or…”

“They’re fucking,” Niall finished, laughing wildly when Liam drops his face in Harry’s shoulder, the latter winking at the table, gently rubbing at Liam’s neck.

“That’s exactly why I spend my nights at Nick’s place,” Louis states, reaching over to poke Liam in the cheek. “Don’t want to hear my little Liam getting off.”

“It’s not getting off,” Liam tries to protest, his words jumbled when Harry shoves more pizza in his mouth, laughing at the confused expression that crosses Liam’s face at the action.

“It’s a nightmare, honestly,” Zayn manages to get out, the words spilling out of his mouth along with his laughter. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t woken up in the middle of the night by them.”

Zayn’s teasing, and Liam knows it, despite the grumpy look on his face when he reaches over and digs his fingers into Zayn’s side, trying to tickle him. Zayn pushes his hands over, shoving his chair back so it knocks against Niall’s, the blond reaching across from him to bat at Liam’s hands, defending Zayn’s honor.

They mess around for several minutes, the five of them falling into a silence as they go back to their pizza. A silence that’s broken only when Niall says, “If the two of them become a bit much, you can always come to my place. If you want.” It sounds casual enough, the blond happily munching on his pizza crust, but Zayn’s heart starts beating rapidly. He feels like he’s on the verge of a heart attack.

Zayn nods his head quickly, unable say anything for a moment before he’s rushing out, “of course, yeah. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“Of course,” Niall nods his head, looking up and shrugging his shoulders. “Harry practically lives here now, so I’ve got the place to myself. It’d be nice to have someone else there, get a bit bored by myself and you wouldn’t have to listen to their sex life.”

Niall goes back to focusing on his pizza and Zayn glances up at Louis, Liam and Harry, giving them a wide eyed look. The three of them, respectively, shoot him a thumbs up, a quick nod, and a hearty wink. Zayn nods his head quickly, biting back a smile.

“That’d be nice to do, um, to come over sometime.” Zayn’s aiming for casual but his voice squeaks a little, picking up at the end of his sentence. Niall glances up and smiles at him, and Zayn tries not to feel like the world is swallowing him whole, a wave of happiness washing over him as he grabs his own slice of pizza, taking a bite of it to hide the smile he can’t seem to get off his face.

~~~~~

Zayn’s lying in bed later that night, his eyes closed as he sighs, shifting around in bed, trying to get a little more comfortable. It’s an unusually quiet night, surprisingly considering Louis had invited Nick over and Harry was still with Liam. Zayn thinks they must be watching another film together, but he doesn’t question it. It’s the first night in a long time that he’s gone to bed without listening to the sounds of his roommates with their soul mates.

He sighs once more, content and at ease, almost asleep until he starts hearing a banging sound coming from Liam’s bedroom, followed closely behind by his and Harry’s voice, moaning and shouting things out that make Zayn want to rip into his ears and tear his ear drums out.

Zayn tries shoving the pillow over his head, willing his body to just completely shut down, to slip into a coma if it’s unable to handle sleep at this point. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he mutters under his breath, trying to make his words louder than the noises coming from the other room, like when you’re a kid and someone is telling you something that you don’t want to hear, so you cover your ears and just start shouting ‘lalalalala’ hoping that the other person will eventually give up.

It doesn’t work, not by a long shot because soon enough, noises are coming from Louis’ room, him and Nick making sounds that rival Liam and Harry’s in pitch and frequency.

Zayn wants to cry. He wants to curl up into a ball and cry, because he’s a good person, and he’s done nothing to deserve this.

As he’s listening to his two best friends and their mates, his mind wanders to Niall’s words at the table earlier, if the two of them become a bit much, you can always come to my place. If you want.

Zayn pulls out his phone, sending a silent prayer that the offer is still on the table as he opens a text to Niall, quickly typing out, please please please tell me that I can come over.

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, instead he throws himself out of bed and grabs his wallet and his keys, shoving them in his pockets and running out of his apartment as quickly as he can.

His phone beeps as he’s locking his front door, a message from Niall that says, you can come over.

Zayn feels his entire body sag in relief. He wants to stop at a store and buy Niall every single item inside of it, no matter the store. He wants to give Niall the entire world, simply because he’s allowing him to come over.

His phone beeps again with an address and directions on how to get there, which buses to take and what streets to walk on.

Zayn makes off towards the bus stop, typing back, bless you. You’re a lifesaver!!!

Harry and Liam that bad? Thought they were going to fuck right there on your couch earlier, couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Zayn thinks back to the movie they watched earlier, snorting as he remembers the way Harry kept dragging his hand up and down Liam’s chest, whispering into his neck during the entire thing.

Yeah, pretty bad. Only, I think Lou and Nick were trying to compete with them or something, both of them going at the same time.

Niall doesn’t send back a text, instead he sends a picture of himself making a horrified face and then another where he’s pretending to throw up. Zayn giggles, honest to god giggles at the pictures, quickly saving them to his phone and taking one of himself where he’s trying to look miserable.

They text pictures of each other back and forth while Zayn waits for the bus, and when he’s on the bus, each one of them getting saved to Zayn’s phone. He wishes there was a way to put a lock on your pictures; he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s saving these, especially not Niall.

When Zayn’s phone vibrates in his hand, expecting to see another picture of Niall, instead it’s a notification at the time, telling him that he’s got a text from Liam. He clicks the preview and opens up the full message, reading: Go and get your soul mate xxx Harry.

Zayn glares at his phone for a moment, typing a quick response to Harry and letting him know that he’s horrible and to tell everyone there that he hates them.

~~~~~

Niall pulls his front door open, smiling around a mouth full of instant noodles as he goes to shove more into it, he waves Zayn in and Zayn smiles at him, taking a tentative step into the apartment.

“Want some? Niall asks, his words jumbled and slurred together, holding the bowl up in the air.

Zayn shakes his head, remembering the five slices of pizza they ate not too long ago. Niall appears unbothered, shrugging his shoulders and going back to slurping noodles into his mouth. He walks away from Zayn, not bothering to look back as he disappears into the apartment. Zayn takes his time locking Niall’s door (the blond having completely forgotten or just not cared, probably the latter) and taking off his shoes. He sets his wallet and his keys down on the little table in the entryway; right next to Niall’s and then makes off to find Niall.

He’s sitting on the couch, his legs folded underneath him and staring at the television intently. He’s watching The Godfather; it’s the scene where Jack Woltz wakes up to find his beloved horse’s head in his bed. Zayn cringes, tearing his eyes away from the television to sit down, waiting until the screen changes to Vito talking to Tom and Tom launching into a discussion about Sollozzo before he turns back to the television, unable to watch the gruesome, unnecessary death of a horse.

“You know that’s a real horses head, right?” Niall says, turning to look at Zayn, nodding his head. “You’ve seen this, right?”

“Yeah I’ve seen it,” he replies, leaning back into the couch, making himself comfortable. “I didn’t know they used a real head, though. I thought maybe it was just good effects. But you’re being serious?”

“Yeah, man. They got some dog food company to work with them and they mailed them, fucking mailed them a horse’s head.”

“That’s pretty sick,” Zayn says, frowning. He glances towards the scene, seeing Sonny ask his father if he’s willing to go into narcotics. He looks back at Niall, the blond smiling at him before quickly turning away.

“I like the second on the best,” Niall mutters, shoving another forkful of noodles into his mouth. “This one’s good, third’s shit, but the second on beats them all.”

Zayn wrinkles his nose, staring at the side of his head like he’s crazy. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” Niall asks, turning to look at Zayn with his mouth agape.

“This ones the best, the original. They go in order, first is the best, second is great, but third is shit. Come on, you can’t tell me that despite being a hot head piece of shit that Sonny wasn’t a great guy. The second one is all about Fredo’s betrayal and Connie needing to get her shit together and Michael going on a fucking power trip, the guy was ruthless. Besides, nothing can beat Marlon Brando,” Zayn explains, huffing out a breath and shaking his head at Niall. “Second’s better, I thought you had better taste than that.”

“What? No, fuck you. The second has Robert De Niro and he’s brilliant. They spend more time in Italy, you get to see how he came to America and how the Corleone family started, that’s why it’s the best. Besides, if I’m being honest, De Niro was pretty fucking hot back in his day, or at least as a young Vito Corleone.”

Zayn nods, because he can’t argue with that, Niall makes a very good point. But it’s a point that shoots a nagging feeling down his spine, reminding him of Niall’s words to Louis that he doesn’t have a gender preference.

“We can watch the second one next time,” Zayn suggests, studying Niall’s features carefully. Niall’s face doesn’t give anything away but he nods his head, and shrugs his shoulders, like it wouldn’t bother him in the least. “I mean, I don’t really see Liam and Harry slowing down at any point.”

Niall laughs, nodding his head. “That’s true. Oh shit, wait this is a good part.” He bounces a little on the couch, lying out to get more comfortable, his toes digging into Zayn’s thighs, wedging underneath them.

Zayn tells himself not to think too much into it, even though his heart sputters about in his chest. He stares at Niall for the briefest of moments before he tears his eyes back to the screen, turning in time to see Luca Brasi talking to Sollozzo in Italian, subtitles on the bottom of the screen, forcing Zayn’s mind to concentrate on something other than the heat radiating from Niall’s body into his own.

It’s thirty minutes later when Niall’s fallen asleep on his end of the couch, curled in on himself while Zayn’s eyes begin to drift closed, Michael and the baker, Enzo helping to protect Vito in the hospital.

~~~~~

Zayn begins staying at Niall’s house every day after that, Harry and Liam getting louder and louder as the days pass by. Only, it’s not because they’re trying to push Niall and Zayn together like the first day, it’s because they’re that ridiculous about each other that they’ve reached the stage of not being able to keep their hands off each other.

Zayn doesn’t mind, though. He’s usually gone before he can hear or see anything, which is fine, because he likes staying at Niall’s place.

They watch movies every night until they both fall asleep on the couch, Niall waking up in the middle of the night to drape a blanket over Zayn’s body before he stumbles to bed. And then when Zayn wakes up he stumbles to Harry’s bedroom, dropping down in the bed he hasn’t used for ages to sleep for the remainder of the night.

In the mornings, Niall cooks them breakfast while Zayn makes their tea. And they eat together in relative silence, working around each other until Zayn leaves, mumbling out a tired goodbye before he makes his way to work or back to his own apartment to sleep.

They settle into a routine, and it’s nice. It’s comfortable and it’s easy, like they’ve been doing it this way their whole lives. And Zayn tells himself that they have to be soul mates, it’s too easy not to be.

~~~~~

Zayn’s sitting on the little stool next to the checkout counter that Harry used to occupy at the corner store Niall works, the stool having become his own over the last couple weeks. He’s playing with his phone, trying to clear all the colored blocks before the time runs out while Niall taps his fingers against the counter, drumming along to the beat of the song playing over the store speakers.

It’s one of the rare times that Niall has the television off, choosing to play music instead of shouting obscenities at the television when a player or the ref does something stupid.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

Zayn hears him, but not fully. He’s got five seconds left on his game and twenty blocks left to clear. He moves his thumb quickly, scrambling to get the blocks cleared in time. He doesn’t make it, four stray blocks left, taunting him. He groans and shoves his phone back into his pocket and glances up to look at Niall. “What’d you say?”

“I asked if you’re coming over tonight,” Niall repeats, rolling his eyes and smiling playfully down at Zayn.

Zayn looks at him with wide eyes, because Niall’s never asked if he was coming over. They’ve never spoken about him coming over at all, actually, except when he’s there. When they’re not safely tucked away in Niall’s apartment, they’re quiet, never saying a thing about it. And Zayn doesn’t know what to do, so he settles for a classy, “uh.”

“Yeah, no. That’s cool,” Niall says, nodding his head. He starts fiddling with the items on the counter, shifting them around, trying to look like he’s organizing the little trinkets. Zayn’s stomach twists because Niall’s not looking at him, his hands are shaking a little, and the look on his face looks like he’s just been rejected. “I was only asking. Just figured that you’d be coming over since Haz is with Liam and all that, it’s not a big deal. Just, you know, thought you’d want to come over.”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Of course I do. I mean, I’m coming over,” Zayn says, nodding his head, smiling when Niall turns to look at him, blue eyes shining. “I thought you meant am I coming to the store today, because I’ve been coming here a lot lately.”

“But you’re already here?” Niall mutters, his confusion evident even behind his amused smirk. “Why would I ask you if you were coming here?”

“That’s why I was so confused. You said it and I was like uh?” Zayn laughs, coughing a little. “I’m coming over tonight. Why wouldn’t I be? Been there every night this week. You know that.”

“I was just making sure,” Niall says, smiling as he bites the insides of his cheeks.

“If I’m coming over tonight, I need to head back to my place and get a few things. I don’t think that I can wear your clothes anymore, they’re great, but… bit of a tight fit,” Zayn mumbles, relishing in the way that Niall laughs, his head thrown back.

Zayn smiles at him, feeling warmth spread throughout his chest. He has to shake his head, can feel his vision trying to get fuzzy and he doesn’t want to start that shit again. “I’ll meet you at your apartment later, all right?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Can you grab dinner on your way to my place?”

“Chinese?” Zayn asks absently, rummaging through his bag to grab his bus pass. When he glances up Niall’s smiling at him, nodding his head.

“How’d you know? I’ve been craving it something fierce. But get it from that place we got it from last time, not the place with the shitty egg rolls, but the place that accidentally doubles our orders.”

Zayn nods his head and shrugs, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, yeah?”

He turns to leave, waving over his shoulder. As he’s walking out, Niall shouts that he can’t wait and Zayn smiles to himself, ducking his head down and walking the familiar path to the bus stop, too tired to walk the seven blocks home.

~~~~~

Zayn stares across the couch at Niall, focusing on him instead of the movie playing on Niall’s television. They’re watching some slapstick comedy with Will Ferrell, well, Niall’s watching it, Zayn is staring intently at the blond across the couch.

Niall amazes him, in every sense of the word and he can’t get enough of him. It’s not enough for Zayn to spend every night with Niall, because he wants more of Niall. He wants all of Niall. He wants the bits and pieces of Niall that no one gets to see the pieces that Niall thinks he’s hidden away from other people, like how he sings under his breath when he’s cleaning the dishes, or how he’s constantly rubbing at his inner thigh, oblivious to the fact that Zayn’s eyes are always tracking the movements.

He wants to find a way to penetrate Niall’s walls, if he has them, to find out how Zayn really makes him feel, if his mind is taken over every time he walks in the room like it is for Zayn with him. He wants to know if Niall’s ever had his vision blur around the edges, forcing him to focus on nothing but the other boy. He wants to know if Niall wakes up in the mornings and wishes that Zayn were in his bed, like how Zayn wakes up in the mornings and wishes he were in Niall’s room instead of Harry’s.

He wants to know everything, but most importantly he wants to know if Niall is just as curious about Zayn being his soul mate as Zayn is about him. It’s the only way to explain the way that Niall makes him feel, and it’s eating away at him, like an internal itch that he can’t scratch because he doesn’t know what Niall’s mark is and if it could possibly relate to Zayn in any way at all.

Zayn watches as Niall grabs the remote to turn the television off, traces of a smile written across his face. It turns off easily before Niall is tossing the remote onto the table, flinching when it hits the wood with a clatter. Zayn’s still looking at him when Niall turns to face him, cocking an eyebrow in question, probably wondering why Zayn’s staring at him. But Zayn can’t seem to look away, the thought of soul mates eating away at him, so he clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter.

“What do you think about soul mates?” Zayn asks softly, jumping into it before he can lose his nerve. It’s been eating away at him since they met, why Niall doesn’t seem to get just as overwhelmed as he does. Why doesn’t Niall want Zayn in the ways that Zayn wants him? It’s something Zayn desperately needs to know.

“Wow, Zayn Malik getting deep on me, huh?” Niall jokes, smiling but his smile fades when Zayn doesn’t return it, instead he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully, waiting for Niall to answer. “I don’t think anything of it.” Niall shrugs his shoulders, feigning nonchalance like he does with everything else in life.

“What does that mean?” Zayn questions. He studies Niall carefully, because everyone has thoughts on soul mates and what they mean or their own personal struggle with finding theirs. Zayn remembers his dad telling him a story about a friend that had to travel 3,000 miles just to meet his during a family vacation. So Zayn knows that even if Niall doesn’t have an opinion on it that he at least has some kind of experience with it, whether its false hope like Zayn has with him or listening to the stories of people he knows.

“It means that I don’t think anything of it besides that it’s a load of bullshit. Fucking marks,” Niall mutters and shakes his head. “It’s bullshit, okay?”

“But how is it bullshit? Everyone has one, Niall. Well, they might not have them yet, but they’re out there. Why would you say that it’s bullshit?”

Niall looks at Zayn, his jaw set and gaze hardened before he sighs, shaking his head. “What’s your mark?” Niall asks, looking at Zayn. Zayn pulls down his shirt collar, absently running his fingers along the ‘Friday?’ etched there. Niall laughs under his breath. “Want to know mine?” Zayn nods. “Me too.”

“Niall, what are you talking about?” Zayn asks, sliding across the couch to sit next to Niall. He’s not crowding his space, but he’s close enough that he can rest a hand against Niall’s shoulder, thumb brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t have a mark, Zayn. I don’t have a soul mate.”

And with those words, Zayn feels lost and overpowered in a different kind of way. It’s not like the overwhelming of senses but the overwhelming of his mind, because it goes completely blank. All he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the sounds of Niall and his breathing.

“You don’t—Fuck, Niall. I’m sorry. I had no idea,” Zayn rambles, unsure about what else to say. He doesn’t know if he’s sorry because Niall doesn’t have a soul mate or if he’s sorry because this entire time he’s been selfishly hoping that Niall was his.

But Niall doesn’t have one. He’ll never be meant for Zayn in the way that Zayn had hoped he would be. It hurts, like acid being splashed on his body, a harsh realization of just how wrong he had been, how stupid he was to have thought that he and Niall could be anything.

“I had no idea. Niall, I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Niall asks and laughs, shaking his head at Zayn.

“I just had no idea, I feel awful. I don’t know, but I feel like I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault, I’m an abnormality.” Niall laughs and it’s humorless, he’s staring down at his lap before he glances up at Zayn. “Guess I’m meant to be a lonely bachelor.”

“That’s not true,” Zayn says, shaking his head, because it’s very important that Niall understands that he’s not going to end up alone. Zayn would never let that happen, even if it’s not with him.

“Who do you know that would want someone without a mark? Who would want to be with someone that’s not their soul mate?” Niall asks, his tone bitter.

"Me." Zayn replies without thinking, the words spilling out his mouth rapidly. “I would.”

Zayn makes sure that he’s looking at Niall when he says it, wanting Niall to understand that this isn’t a joke to him. He wants Niall to understand that Zayn is telling him how he feels about him and that he wants to be with him.

Niall’s looking back at him, a look on his face that Zayn’s never seen before, but he doesn’t have time to think about it or time to question it because Niall’s kissing him, pressing him into the back of the couch, crowding his space and overpowering his senses as their lips move together.

Zayn can feel his world spinning again, his brain getting a little fuzzy as he focuses on kissing Niall back with everything he has, his hands cupping Niall’s jaw. His stomach is twisting and knotting, a warmth radiating from his chest down to his toes, completely taking over his body.

Niall kisses him, swiping his tongue out across Zayn’s bottom lip before he gently coaxes Zayn’s mouth open, gripping onto his hair with one hand, the other one his neck, carding his fingers through the little hairs there, sending shivers up and down Niall’s.

Zayn pulls away for air, gasping out Niall’s name when he drags his lips down to his neck, sucking on the skin of his Friday tattoo, a wave of electricity radiating throughout Zayn’s body. “Fuck, Niall,” he says, groaning quietly.

“Bedroom?” Niall asks and Zayn’s nodding his head quickly, allowing Niall to tug him off the couch and drag him down the hallway into his bedroom.

It’s the first time that Zayn’s been in Niall’s bedroom for any other reason besides grabbing a clean shirt in the mornings, but he’s more than happy to have this be the second time. More than happy to allow Niall to shove him down on top of the blankets, crawling on top of him and working at the button on Zayn’s jeans, tugging them down slowly before he works off his own and throws his shirt off as well.

Zayn sits up slowly, tugging his own shirt off and watches Niall, looking at him in the relative darkness of the room, the only light coming from the streetlights outside.

“Are you sure about this?” Niall asks, crawling back on the bed, settling between Zayn’s legs. “I don’t have a mark or anything.”

Zayn laughs, reaching up to tug Niall back down. “It’s sex, not like we’re getting married,” he says and then he’s kissing Niall again, holding his jaw as their mouths work together. He can feel Niall dragging his fingers across Zayn’s ribs, up and down, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and licking into Zayn’s mouth, tongue doing things that make Zayn feel like he could black out.

He can feel Niall’s dick pressed into his thigh, the blond gently grinding down on his leg, leaving breathy gasps into Zayn’s mouth that make his own dick twitch in interest, thickening up. He trails one of his hands down Niall’s chest, nails scratching his nipple before he’s dropping his hand into Niall’s waistband, wrapping his fist firmly around Niall’s cock.

“Oh fuck,” Niall groans, pulling away from the kiss to moan out against Zayn’s cheek, his breath coming out in quick gasps against his skin as Zayn strokes him up and down, angling his wrist just right and working his thumb over Niall’s slit.

Niall goes back to kissing him, shoving his tongue into Zayn’s mouth before he’s fucking into Zayn’s fist, reaching down to wrap his own fist around Zayn’s dick, the two wanking each other off in a half assed attempt at unison until Niall’s slapping his hand away, sitting up and digging around in his bedside drawer.

Zayn tries to catch his breath, lying back as Niall pulls off his boxers and then his own and then slicked up fingers are tracing his hole, teasing it with feather light touches of the pads of his callused fingers.

“Niall,” Zayn breathes, forcing the blond to look up at him with a smirk before he feels his finger inside of him, sliding in slowly, taking it one knuckle at a time until his finger is wiggling around inside of him and he’s gripping onto the blankets, trying to stop his vision from blurring.

Niall’s overwhelming him again, his senses spasming at the feeling of Niall’s finger inside of him, working in and out of him, trying to stretch him open.

Niall is trailing kisses along the underside of his jaw, nibbling at the skin to distract Zayn from the feeling of a second finger joining the first, scissoring him open, and stretching him out.

Zayn can’t remember the last time he’s had sex with anyone, or rather the last time he’s had sex with someone that made his thighs tremble with just his fingers, gently massaging against his prostate. He can feel Niall smirking against his skin, muttering about how beautiful Zayn is and how fucking tight he is and how he can’t wait to be inside of him.

Niall goes back to kissing him when he slips a third finger in and Zayn moans out, the sound swallowed by Niall’s mouth pressed against his.

“Oh god,” Zayn groans against Niall’s mouth, throwing his head back against the pillow. “I’m ready. Please, I’m ready.”

Niall kisses his neck and pulls out, causing Zayn to whine at the loss of pressure. He adjusts himself on the bed, sliding up a little further and spreading his legs, lazily stroking his dick while he watches Niall tear the condom wrapper with his teeth before he rolls it on and coats it with more lube.

Niall scoots forward a little more, pulling Zayn down by the hips until his cock brushes against Zayn’s hole and Zayn groans, reaching up to grab Niall’s bag, trying to guide him as Niall pushes in slowly, the blond’s eyes squeezed shut as he bites his lip, cursing under his breath and saying, “you’re so fucking tight, Zayn. Holy shit.”

Niall leans down to kiss him, pulling out of him slowly before he pushes back in, his hips snapping forward and Zayn moans, his head thrown back. Niall’s breath is coming out in quick puffs of air onto Zayn’s cheek, these deep, quiet groans penetrating Zayn’s sense of hearing, like it’s the only thing he’s able to pick up on, and it causes a twist in his gut, a heavy pull that has his back arching off the bed, groaning out, “oh my fucking god.”

Niall finally grips onto Zayn’s dick again, matching the rhythm his hips are making and Zayn’s world is spinning. He’s muttering out quiet little pleases, begging Niall for something that he’s not sure what, other than to keep fucking into him a little harder and a little faster. Somehow, the reason unknown to Zayn, it’s like Niall is reading his mind because his hips and his hand work harder and faster, the angle just right and Zayn moans, loud.

Zayn’s gripping onto Niall’s back when he comes, his fingernails dragging across his pale skin as hot spurts of come pool across his stomach. His back is arched, his stomach twisting and thighs shaking and when Niall comes shortly after he makes a keening sound that develops into a tired groan before he collapses on top of Zayn, breathing heavily into his neck for a moment.

Zayn feels like he’s being crushed but he’s entirely too blissed out to care. Zayn’s chest is rising and falling in quick succession while his mind tries to process what’s just happened, tries to file away the look on Niall’s face when he came and the sounds he made in the Zayn’s ear, the whining that brought Zayn over the edge.

Zayn forces his mind to clear so he can tuck this memory away safely, feeling like something amazing, far greater than the sex, has just happened between the two of them, and he doesn’t want to forget it.

After Niall pulls out and cleans them off, they curl up under Niall’s blankets, the blond instantly falling asleep in Zayn’s arms.

~~~~~

Zayn’s home the following day, Niall having to work the night shift, leaving Zayn on his own, well, not on his own, but forcing him to go back to his own place for once. Leaving Niall’s apartment was different than the times before, this time Niall had pressed him up against the metal surface and kissed him until his lips were bruised and swollen, his head spinning. It was a good bye that had taken nearly twenty minutes until Niall caught sight of the time and cursed, rushing off to finish getting ready.

It had left tingles in Zayn’s body, butterflies fluttering around his stomach on the bus ride home.

Zayn felt like he was on cloud nine now that he had gotten somewhere with Niall. He’s willing to ignore the fact that Niall doesn’t have a soul mate and ignore the fact that his is still out there somewhere, because Niall does something to him. And he might not know what it feels like to have a soul mate, but he thinks that there isn’t a person out there in the world that could make him feel the way he does about Niall.

“Don't you look happy today.”

Zayn pokes his head out of the fridge to see Harry smiling at him, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“It’s an amazing day,” Zayn answers, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge before he joins Harry at the table. “How have things been here?”

“They’re good,” Harry says, nodding his head slowly. “But I hear that they’ve been even better over at my old apartment.” Zayn pauses and glances at Harry over his water bottle, his lips still wrapped around the rim as he pulls water from it, his eyebrow raised. “Oh come on, Zayn, don’t look at me like that. I don’t know why you’d want to keep it a secret, Niall’s a really great guy and you’re lucky that he’s with you.”

“What’d he tell you?” Zayn asks, wiping the stray droplets of water off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“He didn’t say anything too revealing, just that you finally had sex. He’s only been whining about how badly he wanted you since that first day in the store, do you remember that? You were all flustered and ran out, god, he was smitten with you. Anyway, he said that you two are, you know, a duo now, if you catch my drift.” Harry’s smiling at him a shit eating grin on his face, he’s practically vibrating in his seat, looking at Zayn like this is the best news he’s ever heard.

“Then yeah, that’s what happened,” Zayn says, trying his absolute hardest to sound casual when his mind is reeling at the fact that Harry implied that Niall said they were a couple.

“Tell me how it happened,” Harry mutters. “I want to know all the details. Wait, lemme get Liam, he’s a hopeless romantic. I don’t know if you knew that about him, he’s so passionate when it comes to love. It’s a shame you’re missing out on him.” Harry nods his head and then turns around in his seat, screaming Liam’s name as loud as he can. “Give him a minute.”

“That’s getting him,” Zayn mumbles, taking another swig from his water bottle. “Sometimes it’s easier to get up and just get the person, you know that right?”

“What’s going on?” Liam calls well before he’s even in the kitchen, entering the room confused before he sees Zayn and he breaks out in a smile. “Well if it’s not Dr. Love himself.”

“Oh god, you told him?” Zayn cries, pointing at Liam and shaking his head.

“There’s no secrets with soul mates,” Harry replies primly, folding his arms over his chest and turning his nose up at Zayn. “But I’d bet you know that, don’t you?”

Zayn frowns, shaking his head in confusion.

“You know, like with Niall and everything,” Liam says, dropping in the chair next to Harry.

“We’re not soul mates.” Zayn shakes his head and concentrates heavily on his water bottle, tearing at the little bit of paper. “So, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean you’re not soul mates? Isn’t that—I mean, we thought that’s why you’ve been spending every day over there,” Liam mutters, sharing a look with Harry before he turns to face Zayn.

“I’m there everyday to escape the soul mates that occupy this apartment,” Zayn corrects. “Besides, it’s not a big deal or anything. We’re just not soul mates.”

“But you thought that he was yours,” Harry mumbles, his voice quiet. “What happened?”

Zayn takes a deep breath, because it’s not his place to tell Niall’s secret, but it’s also imperative that Harry and Liam understand that he and Niall could never be soul mates. They’re not soul mates and he doesn’t want Harry and Liam fucking up what he’s starting with Niall by mentioning soul mates to him, it was clear last night that Niall’s not a fan of the whole thing, justifiably resentful that he’s excluded from the rule. So Zayn takes a sip of water and then says, “Niall doesn’t have a mark. He doesn’t have a soul mate.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow together and Liam frowns, but both of them are looking at Zayn like he’s not making any sense.

“Everyone has a soul mate,” Liam finally says.

“I’m Niall’s best friend, he would have told me if he didn’t have a soul mate,” Harry adds.

“I don’t know why he didn’t tell you, but it’s true. We talked about it last night. Without a mark that means he doesn’t have a soul mate, I don’t know why or how it happened that way, but it’s the truth. And I mean, come on. Who’s to say that you have to be with your soul mate?”

“Zayn, that’s the way it works. Everyone has a soul mate, they’re made for you,” Harry says gently, like he’s trying to break bad news to Zayn, like he’s getting ready to say that Niall and him can’t be together.

“Listen, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need him to be my soul mate in order to be happy. I have Niall, I like Niall and I don’t want to fuck this up. I’m happy,” he adds again, pushing his water bottle away and standing up. “I’m going to bed; I want to meet Niall when he gets off at sunrise, so I’ll see you guys later.”

He doesn’t stay to hear or see what Liam and Harry’s reactions are. He doesn’t need their approval. He doesn’t need them to understand what’s happening. They’ve got each other, and they’ve fallen into the same routine as everyone else, settling for the people that they’re predetermined to end up with. But Zayn’s going to fight it, he’s going to fight against whatever might keep him and Niall apart, and he’s going to do it for Niall.

~~~~~

Niall gets off work thirty minutes before sunrise and Zayn is there waiting for him outside of the store. He doesn’t go inside, instead he leans against the cool brick of the building and watches as the sky slowly shifts from darkened blue to a light blue, the edges of the horizon glowing a soft orange, and waits for Niall.

He didn’t get any sleep like he wanted, or like he told Liam and Harry that he was going to. He lay in bed for most of it, staring at his ceiling and thinking back to his night with Niall, the way his skin prickled and burned in the most satisfying of ways from Niall’s touch.

It had been unexpected, to say the least, to find out that Niall had been thinking about Zayn, maybe not in exactly the same but, to some capacity. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest and he could finally breathe easy again because he didn’t have to wonder about what place in limbo he and Niall were in, instead they were…something. He doesn’t know what, but he does remember that Harry called them a duo.

That was the thought more than anything that kept Zayn awake, besides the way that Harry and Liam had reacted, like it was wrong what was happening between him and Niall, but that's something Zayn doesn’t want to think about it, because if he does then he knows that he’ll get angry, probably irrationally so, or so he thinks, anyway.

No, the thing that makes Zayn’s head spin the most is the thought that Niall implied that they were ZaynandNiall not Zayn and Niall.

A guy with a hat on walks past Zayn, eyeing him under the brim before he enters the store. Zayn pushes off against the wall and walks towards the other side of the sidewalk. He rubs his shoe against the concrete, staring down at the ground and kicking a pebble across the way. When he glances up Niall’s standing at the entrance of the store, a surprised smile on his face.

“So you’re the pervert that’s creeping outside,” Niall says, the shop door slamming closed behind him. “Matt said there was some creep outside, staking the place out. I think he assumes you’re going to rob us.”

“Damn, should have hid better, huh?” Zayn teases and smiles when Niall laughs, the only sound heard for miles in the early morning silence.

“I’d say away from the front door is a good idea,” Niall mutters, his steps falling in sync with Zayn’s as they navigate their way back to Niall’s apartment. “But really, what are you doing here?”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, the back of his hand brushing against Niall’s. “I thought I’d surprise you,” Zayn mumbles and turns to look at Niall, taking in the way that Niall is nodding his head, his face offering no information about what he might be thinking or feeling. “Is that okay?”

He sees the way that Niall rolls his eyes before he’s pushing Zayn against the side of a building, crowding his space and kissing him. Niall moves his mouth lazily against Zayn’s too tired from having been away all night to really want to put any effort forth, but he’s gripping onto Zayn’s hips, keeping him held firmly against the building.

Zayn can feel the warmth radiating from Niall’s body, seeping into his own and wrapping around his chest, clinging to him and forcing a contented sigh to escape his lips.

Niall pulls away with a dopey smile on his face, reaching up to brush at Zayn’s hair before he loosens his grip on his hips, allowing Zayn to step away from the building. He links their fingers together, squeezing his hand gently and Zayn takes that as confirmation that it was more than okay to pick Niall up from work.

They walk together in silence, their hands clutched together and Zayn thinks about what Harry said.

‘He said that you two are, you know, a duo now, if you catch my drift.’

Zayn didn’t catch his drift at all, because he and Niall never actually talked after what happened, just made out lazily in bed until it was time for Niall to get ready for work and then they made out frantically against the front door. There was never a discussion about whether or not they were a thing. Zayn would definitely remember if there was a declaration of a thing. He’d know because he would have pushed Niall over the back of the couch and refused to let him leave, wanting to have celebration sex on the couch.

So if Harry’s thoughts are plaguing and haunting his mind, well, it’s with good reason, really. And he’s desperate to know what they mean, so he clears his throat, coughing into his fist, the hand that’s not keeping him anchored to Niall, and says, “I, uh, spoke to Harry today. Or no, yesterday, I guess. Technically.”

He feels Niall tense, his hand stiffening in Zayn’s grip before the other boy lets out a light laugh. “I mean, I might have, um.” He coughs, turning to look at Zayn with a nervous smile on his face. “What did he say?”

“He called us a duo,” Zayn replies, biting his bottom lip as he looks at Niall, tightening his grip on Niall’s hand when he tries to pull away.

“Fuck,” Niall mutters, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t—well, I didn’t mean to, you know? Like, shit. I didn’t mean to assume there was an us, you know. Like, I know that sex doesn’t always have to mean something, ya know?”

It takes everything in Zayn to not cease his walking to gawk at Niall because holy shit. It’s like the air has been knocked out of him, like he’s a fish out of water, struggling. Niall’s still rambling next to him, mumbling on and on about how stupid it was of him to call Harry, especially since it was Zayn’s business as well, and he shouldn’t have said anything, and how that he might have said something to hit at them being a thing, but like, Harry obviously took it to mean more than what he did. And all the while, he’s trying to shrug out of Zayn’s grasp, laughing humorlessly under his breath.

Zayn cuts him off by saying, “Is there an us?”

Niall sputters next to him, choking on his words and turning to look at Zayn. “If, um, you want there to be,” Niall says, tugging at his shirt collar.

And this time it’s Zayn who rolls his eyes and shoves Niall into the side of a building, kissing him deeply to let him how he feels about the thought of them being together.

~~~~~

Niall’s sleeping on his stomach, his bare back exposed to Zayn. The suns trickling in through the blinds, the curtains drawn shut but there’s a soft glow to the room. It’s a few hours after Zayn picked him up at the store, and he finds that he’s still unable to sleep, completely wrapped up in the sleeping figure next to him.

Niall has a freckle on the center of his shoulder blade, and it’s distracting Zayn. The darkened pigment of his skin standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin, but it’s not just the one. There’s an array of them, branching out from the back of his arm and across his back, a constellation of freckles that Zayn finds himself tracing the lines between them absently.

He wonders if he can memorize them, burn the maps on Niall’s skin into his mind. He wants to trace the inches of his skin, learning everything he can about Niall from the folds of his skin, the lines forming there and the scars, the places of imperfection that mark Niall as his own, separating him from everyone else in the world.

He’s beautiful and seeing Niall naked in anything but the dark is a whole new world for him. He can see the blemishes of his skin, the little red marks across his shoulders. He can see where Niall’s skin is used to folding, the skin permanently wrinkled, creating a memory of it all.

Niall’s skin holds the story to his life, like the little white scar along his ribcage, a thousand words inside of it about what changed his skin forever.

The blankets are bunched around Niall’s waist and Zayn wants to drag them down, see the full expanse of Niall’s milky skin. But he doesn’t and he won’t, not while Niall’s sleeping. He wants to see Niall’s face and the way it reacts to Zayn’s thumb brushing against the dimples at the end of his spine, or when he’s brushing against the creases of his inner thighs, seeing the parts of Niall that he doesn’t even get to look at.

Zayn wants to touch every inch of Niall’s skin, not only with his hands but with his mouth, peppering him with feather light kisses that make his skin tingle. He wants to see the goosebumps form along the surface; a silent and steady reminder of what Zayn’s touch can do to him.

It’s overpowering in a way, to want to memorize someone else’s mind and body into his soul, lacing them together with Zayn’s until it’s a blurred confusion of who is who. He wants the traces of Niall to seep into his skin and burrow inside his heart, taking the empty bits that Zayn’s left open for him.

Zayn feels like a creep, probably is one, but his mind is swimming and spinning at the thought of it all. And it’s almost like Niall’s already beginning to get inside of him, threading his way in to weave around Zayn in every way, mind, body and soul.

Niall stirs under his touch, slowly blinking awake. He glances up at Zayn, rolling onto his side. His eyes are still closed, but he’s smiling, a smile dopey grin on his face as he pats the space next to him. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Zayn says, shaking his head, unable to tell Niall that he’s trying to memorize the constellation of freckles along his upper back. He lies down, shifting around a bit to get comfortable and when stops, Niall tugs the blankets up higher, pulling them up to their necks and burrows against Zayn’s side.

There’s cold toes pressing against his calf, an arm draped over his stomach and a face pressed into his chest, but Zayn just settles under the blankets further, wrapping an arm around Niall’s shoulder and holding him close, drifting off to sleep…finally.

~~~~~

The days bleed together, one turning into two turning into three until Zayn can’t remember the last time he saw his own apartment, having spent every waking moment with Niall, but he doesn’t think it was long enough to warrant the low whistle Louis gave him when he’s leaving their apartment with Nick, shouting about ‘the stud’ being home and cackling madly when Zayn blushed.

It’s really only been a few days, if that. They both had time off from work and it… It felt right spending them with Niall after they made it official. Until Niall had to get into work and Zayn, really had to get home to do his laundry so he could stop stretching out Niall’s shirts.

He’s shoving clothes in the washing machine when Harry bumps into him, literally. Somehow, he had managed to trip over his feet, stumbling a little until their bodies collided, throwing Zayn back into the door.

“Shit, sorry,” Harry mutters, righting himself and helping Zayn to dislodge himself from the wall. “Two left feet, or so Liam tells me.” His eyes go soft at the mention of Liam’s name and before Zayn would have wanted to throw up, but he knows that he does the same thing with Niall, or so he imagines, a dreamy sigh accompanying it and everything. “Anyway, what are you doing home?”

“I was beginning to run out of clothes. I can’t remember the last time I’ve cleaned them, and it feels oddly…wrong? To clean them at Niall’s place, or well, your guys’ place? Have you even officially moved out?” Zayn questions, tossing a white shirt into his whites pile, separating it from the rest of his laundry.

“No, but, I mean, it’s kind of implied, isn’t it?”

“Kind of, since you’re never there.”

“Just like you’re never here,” Harry counters, smirking when Zayn nods his head in agreement, shoving his jeans into the wash. “But really, how are things, you know, between the two of you?”

“It’s great, actually. I don’t know what to say. It’s just really good. I guess it’s kind of like how you and Liam were after you first met, just wanting to spend as much time together as possible,” Zayn replies, shoving more clothes into the washing machine and throwing even more into his whites pile at Harry’s feet. “What about you? Everything going well in soul mate haven?”

“That’s good,” Harry says, nodding his head and brushing his fingers through his hair. It looks longer than Zayn remembers, longer than it was the last time they saw each other. Or maybe because it’s shorter than Niall’s and Zayn’s having a hard time telling the difference these days. “And Liam and I are amazing, but I have a feeling you already knew that.” Harry’s teasing him and Zayn laughs, nodding his head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah well, if it tells you anything, this is the first day where I haven’t followed him to work and watched as he taught people how to use the work out machines. Not like I didn’t want to, but trying to work on our co-dependentness,” Harry says, huffing out a laugh. “But really, everything all right between you and Niall?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, I did say that,” Zayn says, shaking his head with a laugh, tossing the last of his colored clothes into the wash. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, you know,” Harry shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “About how the two of you aren’t soul mates, and I just don’t understand what you guys are doing together is all.”

“Well, we’re two people that just so happen to have feelings for each other at the same time. And usually, how it works is that you spend time together, maybe kiss a little, maybe even have sex, and from there you slowly start this thing called a relationship,” Zayn bites back, his words oozing sarcasm.

Harry nods his head in understanding, but the words that come out of his mouth don’t convey that same level of thoughtfulness. “But what are you going to do when you meet your soul mate?” Harry asks and he’s looking at Zayn with something resembling pity, like he already feels bad for Zayn for when the time comes, or like he feels sorry for him that Zayn’s without a soul mate, like he’s settling with Niall.

“What about it? I don’t need a soul mate, Harry.” Zayn scoffs and shakes his head, because Harry just doesn’t get it. He slams the lid of the washer closed and turns to look back at Harry.

“Zayn, everyone has someone. We’re all biologically composed to be meant for someone and you can’t just break that and try to go off with someone else. It’ll only end up in the two of you getting hurt,” Harry says, trying to explain himself.

“Maybe I don’t need mine,” Zayn mutters, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m happy with Niall, and that’s all that matters to me. I’m only worried about right now and right now, I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m not like you and Liam; it’s not going to be easy for me to find mine. And whatever I have with Niall, it feels right. It feels like this is who I’m supposed to be with, soul mates or not.”

“Oh yeah, it was a walk in the fucking park for me, trying to find my soul mate. I’ve had the word hi on my arm since I was born, do you know how many fucking people have said hi to me? Even as a toddler when every single child was shouting hi at every form of human they saw? It wasn’t easy for me to find Liam, but it happens when it’s supposed to. I would have met him later, probably, if you hadn’t dragged him into the store so you could stare at Niall,” Harry says, nodding his head when Zayn gives him a look. “Yeah, he told me about that.”

“So I’ve always liked Niall, what the fuck is the problem with that?” Zayn spits out, wishing that Harry would just leave him alone. He doesn’t understand. It’s not common in society, someone branching out and getting serious with someone that’s not his or her soul mate, but Zayn doesn’t care about common. He doesn’t care what’s normal and accepted in society because it’s nobody’s business if he and Niall are soul mates or not.

Harry groans, huffing out a giant breath. “It’s not a problem, Zayn, but come on. I just want you both to be realistic about this. I know that you like him and he likes you too, has since the second he first saw you, and that’s amazing, but I don’t want to see my best friend get hurt when he apparently doesn’t have a soul mate and yours is out there somewhere, looking for you.”

Zayn shakes his head and smiles sadly at Harry. “Harry, you’re happy. You’re happy and Liam’s happy. Louis is happy and Nick is happy. I’m happy and Niall’s happy. Isn’t that all that matters?”

Harry looks at him for a moment, his eyes’ scanning over Zayn’s features and Zayn tries his hardest to hold himself together, trying to let Harry know that he’s not backing down from this. Harry sighs and nods his head and Zayn looks at him cautiously. “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry. It’s not my place to get involved, I know that. I just… I worry about Niall, you know? I’m not saying that you’re going to hurt him, but I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s never really been with anyone before, I guess because he doesn’t have a mark and he felt like he shouldn’t. I don’t know, but I’m just trying to look out for both of you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t say what’s going to happen with us. I can’t say if things are going to work out, or if we’re going to be together forever, but it feels right, you know? Like, Liam said that you feel warmth when you’re near him, just a heat that radiates throughout your body. And that’s how I feel with Niall, except it’s not a heat, it’s everything, my body doesn’t know what to do with itself when he’s around.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that my senses are physically overpowered by him. Everything gets out of whacked and tunes in to him and him alone. If he was here right now, and you were talking, I’d probably miss it all. And I can’t let something like that go, I can’t,” Zayn mutters, feeling a little dizzy with just talking about Niall.

Harry smiles at him softly. “How about you press start on that washing machine and I’ll make us some lunch and then you can tell me about this feeling.” Harry waggles his eyebrows and tries to wink at the same time, the action coming across and awkward eye twitch and Zayn laughs, shoving at Harry’s shoulder but finds himself nodding anyway.

~~~~~

Time passes by in a blur below the balcony floor, people weaving in and out of each other as they rush to their destination, cars speeding by, and Zayn watches it all from above, leaning forward to rest his chin against the railing.

There’s a chill spreading in the air, gently nipping at the bare skin of his arms, but he welcomes it. It distracts him from the thoughts circulating throughout his head, but only just. He can’t seem to focus on anything surrounding, not the dying potted plant left abandoned in the corner of their balcony, the one that Louis bought when he was determined to prove to Nick that he could take care of something, nurture something and keep it alive longer than Nick could. He did, but only with Liam’s help.

Zayn can’t get his mind to connect to anything other than the things that Harry said to him earlier, shoving unwanted thoughts into his mind about what it means to be with someone that isn’t his soul mate and what might happen if someone were to come along and speak the word Friday to him in a way that lit a fire inside of him and Zayn replying with the words etched on their skin. It makes his stomach clench in the worst way. It’s almost violent, like his body is trying to reject itself, every beat of his heart a little more painful than the last at thought of meeting someone else.

Zayn doesn’t understand this feeling, the spasms he feels deep in his chest when it comes to thoughts of being without Niall, the way it becomes harder to breathe and the way that his palms sweat and knees shake.

It’s just like how he doesn’t understand how sometimes, more often than not, his brain gets a little fuzzy and he gets that tunnel vision thing where his eyes can’t focus on anything but the blond.

He’s never asked Niall but he’s curious to know if Niall gets the same feelings when he’s around Zayn, if it’s some kind of sign that fate can fuck itself and they can be together forever, despite what the stars in the sky say.

But Harry’s fucked it all up because now Zayn doesn’t know what to do, because Harry’s right. Zayn has a soul mate out there somewhere, someone made just for him with letters strung into words embedded into his or her, the words that they’ve been waiting their whole lives to hear from the right person, and Zayn’s that person.

He’s meant for someone that’s not Niall and it sends a stabbing, radiating pain throughout his body, shooting down his spine and piercing at his heart. It takes all the air out of his lungs, leaving him gasping, because he really wanted it to be Niall.

Zayn thought at first that it was, the unmistakable feeling that coursed through his body when he met the blond was something that he’s never felt before. And his mother had told him that he’d know when he met them, and his father had tacked on that it’d be like nothing he’s ever felt before.

That’s what happened with Niall. He felt it in his bones that he was meant for Niall but unfortunately fate had played a dirty trick on him, dangling the idea in front of him and waving it around like a piece of meat to a starving dog, making him want it more than anything only to rip it out from underneath him, taking it away and leaving him to wonder why he felt, why he wanted it so much in the first place.

Zayn takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and resting his head on the cold metal railing of the balcony, wondering what he’s going to do about this feeling swirling around deep inside of him.

~~~~~

Zayn finds himself standing outside Nick’s front door, kicking his feet against the pavement and waiting for someone to answer. He can hear Nick’s dog barking, yapping away and Louis shouts, telling her to pipe down before the door swings open and he’s met with the sight of his best friend.

Louis takes one look at him, his smile faltering and replaced with a look of concern. Zayn wonders what his own face looks like, if it’s as bad as he imagines, but it must be because Louis is gripping him by the shoulder and practically throwing him inside. “Go to the kitchen, I’ll make some tea,” Louis says, pushing Zayn in the direction of the kitchen or where Zayn assumes the kitchen is. “Puppy, for god’s sake, can you stop that yapping and go find something to do? Go get your bone.”

Puppy yelps once more before her nails are clicking against the wooden floor, taking her away quickly in the direction of wherever her bone must be.

Zayn finds the kitchen eventually, just through the doorway connected to the living room.

Zayn hasn’t been in Nick’s apartment more than a handful of times, most of them coming to pick Louis up after he and Nick had a fight, so he’s never really been inside. He’s never actually been witness to the overwhelming influence of Louis that’s taken Nick’s apartment hostage. There are pictures of Louis’ mother and his sisters hung on the walls and on the fridge, pictures of the two of them together accompanying them. There are paintings and posters that Zayn knows Louis has mentioned wanting in his own place a time or two and despite how he feels inside, Zayn can’t help but laugh because Louis’ wants nothing more than for Nick to ask him to move in with him, and by the looks of Nick’s apartment, Nick probably assumes he’s already living there.

Louis rushes into the kitchen, shoving Zayn into a chair while he putters around the kitchen, putting the kettle on for some tea, the thing that Louis thinks can fix all problems. He doesn’t make any sort of hints that he’s ready to talk to Zayn, which is fine because for some reason, Zayn feels like he’s going to start crying, tears prickling behind his eyes.

He rubs roughly at his face, willing himself to calm down as the kettle whistles in the background. He takes a deep breath and then another, telling himself that Harry’s words shouldn’t affect him this way, because this wasn’t Harry’s intentions.

It takes a minute but when he’s finally calmed down enough to, he pulls his hands away from his eyes, Louis is sitting across from him, tea mug in hand with another placed in front o him. He’s surprised when he finds that Louis actually made it the way that he likes and not the way that Louis insists tea should be made.

When he’s finished with what’s in his cup, he sets the tea down and sighs. Zayn bites down on his bottom lip and thinks to himself, Louis can help. Louis can fix what’s happening inside of Zayn’s head.

“What’s it like, you know, being in love with your soul mate?”

Louis looks at him thoughtfully for a moment before he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m probably not the best person to ask, I can hardly stand mine.”

Zayn laughs because it’s true. Nick and Louis fight like cats and dogs, but underneath it all, Zayn can see the bond that the two share, the love that’s been embedded in their skin since birth. Zayn knows it’s there, even if the two of them like to pretend that they hate each other. And despite the laugh, Zayn can feel his face twisting.

“What’s going on, Zayn?” Louis asks, setting his own mug down on the table.

“I was talking to Harry earlier and he said some shit,” Zayn mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

“What kind of shit?”

“The other night, when I was over at Niall’s, I finally asked him what he thought about soul mates. It had been bothering me for a while, not knowing what if he thought of me in the same way that I thought of him. It turns out he does, but he also said that, um. He. Niall doesn’t have a mark. He doesn’t have a soul mate.”

“How is that possible?” Louis questions, staring at Zayn. “It’s not—I didn’t think that could happen.”

“I didn’t either but it’s true, apparently. He doesn’t have one and that’s fine with me, because Niall, he wants to be with me, right? We’ve been together, pretty much since that night. I’ve spent all this time with him and happy, Louis, he makes me happy. But Harry, he’s worried because Niall doesn’t have a soul mate, but that doesn’t mean mine has ceased to exist, you know? So Harry is worried that one day, my soul mate is going to come around and he kept questioning me on why I’d mess about with when I have someone out there and it’s just… It’s gotten into my head.”

“Zayn,” Louis says carefully, resting his elbows up on the table. “You can’t listen to Harry when it comes to something like this, okay?”

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Technically, sure. But the thing is, you’re not Harry. Harry has spent his entire life waiting for his soul mate, kind of like Liam has. That’s why they’re made for each other, that’s why they’re perfect for each other. Harry wants to be with his soul mate more than anyone else on the planet, that’s why, since the moment they met, he’s been in our apartment. He can’t get enough of Liam. But that’s his life and that’s the way he chooses to live it. But you’re not Harry, so you can listen to him, yeah, but you don’t have to focus on what he says and wonder if you’re making the right choices, because what’s right for him isn’t going to be right for you,” Louis explains.

“I just don’t want to get attached to Niall, to build this life up and then one day, I meet some guy or some girl when I’m out and then what? What happens to Niall? He doesn't have anyone like you do, like I do, like Harry and Liam do,” Zayn mutters. “If that happens then Niall’s alone, he’s all alone. And it’s my fault, Louis. It’s my fault.”

Louis shakes his head, releasing a deep breath. “Yeah, we’ve all got soul mates, but you’re the only one that can decide your life. That’s what I’m telling you. So if you’re happy with Niall, if that’s what you want, then be with Niall.”

“Is it really that easy?” Zayn questions, looking down at the table for a second before he glances back up at Louis. “Fates against us on this one.”

“Fuck fate. Fuck soul mates. And fuck marks,” Louis says, his eyes blazing with a passion that Zayn’s not sure he’s ever seen before. “I’ve spent half my fucking life with Nick, do you understand that? I found him when I was twelve. I’ve spent half my life wondering why fate hated me so much that it would force me to be with someone like Nick, no, not even someone like Nick, but Nick himself, because eighty percent of the time, I hate him. But I get it, you know? Because I’d choose Nick every time, with or without this mark on my arm.”

It’s the first time that Zayn’s ever heard Louis talk about his soul mate this way and he almost wishes that Nick were hiding behind the door so he could hear it. He feels like the older boy could use a reminding that Louis loves him.

“I’d choose Nick every time,” Louis continues. “So if you think that you’d choose Niall every time, then be with Niall, man. It’s that simple. Mark or no mark, if that’s who you want, if that’s who your heart and your mind and your soul are telling you to be with and that’s who you’d choose no matter what, then get outta here, man.”

Zayn nods his head, smiling because he knows that he’d pick Niall. He knows that he would. Something deep inside of him is telling him that’s the choice that he makes and he almost wants to find Harry and shout it at him, because Zayn would choose Niall over whomever the mark on his collarbone has him tethered too.

“I can’t believe you’d choose Nick,” Zayn says after a minute, the wide smile still on his face.

“Oh god,” Louis groans, slapping at the table before he leans back in his seat. “Is that all you heard? I gave you the motivational speech of the century and all you heard was that I like my soul mate sometimes? Jesus, I hope Niall wouldn’t want to pick you.” He looks at Zayn for a moment out of the corners of his eyes before a smile spread slowly across his face. “God, you’re gross.”

“I might be, but I’m not the one sickeningly in love with my soul mate,” Zayn sings, teasing Louis, enjoying the way that Louis squirms.

Louis groans, a deep, loud noise escaping from within his chest. “Are you going to be leaving any time soon? Because if not, I think it’s time you go.”

“All right, all right. I’m out of here. I’ll show myself out, figure you might want to wipe your feelings off the floor before Nick gets back.” He quickly dives out of the kitchen, narrowly missing the swat Louis aims in his direction. “Thank you for your help,” he shouts at the door.

“No need to thank me,” Louis hollers back, his voice muffled due to the distance between them.

Zayn swings the door open and runs into a startled Nick, the latter holding his keys in his hand and frowning when he sees that it’s Zayn that has run into him. “Don’t usually see you around here, Zayn,” he says, spinning his keys around his finger.

“Yes, well, I wanted to get some wisdom that only your boyfriend can provide,” Zayn replies, side stepping Nick so he can exit the apartment.

“Well, that’s him. I always call him Mr. Wise when we’re in bed,” Nick jokes, laughing even more at the face Zayn makes rather than the horribleness of his own joke. “Anyway, I hope he helped you out.”

“He did, which is why I need to say this,” Zayn stares, clearing his throat. Louis is going to kill him. “If you want to keep him happy, you should ask him to move in with you. He’s been waiting for it to happen for months now, probably even longer.”

Nick stares at him for a moment before he nods his head, his mouth moving without any sound spilling out of it. He closes the door in Zayn’s face and Zayn can hear as Nick’s body slumps against it. Laughing, he tucks his hands in his pockets and leaves.

~~~~~

When Niall kisses him, pushing him against the wall next to the door and kicking the door shut with his foot, Zayn forgets about everything that Harry said to him earlier. He forgets about what Louis said to him and he forgets about everything that he was feeling before he walked into Niall’s apartment, because now he’s feeling something entirely different. A complete one-eighty from everything that was coursing through his body before, because now Niall is here and he’s crowding Zayn’s space, shoving him into the wall and kissing him fiercely.

Niall’s got his hands on Zayn’s hips, holding him flush against the wall while Zayn grips onto his blond hair, his head spinning from lack of oxygen, the air knocked out of his lungs when Niall began kissing him and he’s been unable to recover his air supply since.

But he doesn’t mind, can never mind if it means that Niall’s holding onto him, running his grip up and down his ribs and kissing the worry out of him.

Niall pulls away, panting softly as a smile spreads across his face. “Feeling better?” He asks quietly, thumbs rubbing circles against Zayn’s skin, Niall’s hands having settled underneath his shirt.

“How’d you know something was bothering me?”

Niall shrugs and leans forward to kiss Zayn once more. “Just felt it, I guess.”

Zayn hums, stroking his thumb down Niall’s jaw. He knows that anxiety was rolling off him in waves, obvious to anyone who actually knows him. He kisses Niall again. “It’s nothing, just kind of tired.”

“Well, I was just about to take a nap. Want to join me?” Niall asks, but he’s already grabbing onto Zayn’s hand and pulling him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

They strip down to their boxers in silence and then drop down onto the bed, wrapping around each other and lying in silence.

Zayn thinks about Louis’ words as he falls asleep, the ones about your soul mate being the person who you’d choose every time. He didn’t say anything spectacular or phenomenal but it was enough to settle Zayn’s nerves and to let him know that as long as he’s with Niall, people are going to react in the way that Harry did, but it’s not something that he can control nor is it something that he should care about, because he’s happy.

He releases a sigh and settles against Niall’s side, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

~~~~~~

Zayn wakes up a couple hours later to the sounds of Niall cursing and rushing around his bedroom. He sits up slowly; his eyes squinted while he watches the blond tug on a pair of shoes.

“What are you doing?” Zayn croaks out, his voice hoarse from his nap, causing Niall to jump in surprise, the blond obviously thought that he was being quiet and wouldn’t wake Zayn.

“Shit,” he mutters, holding his hand against his chest. “Scared me. I’ve got to go to work; my shift starts in about ten minutes. I’m going to be late, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Mm, yeah I’ll still be here,” Zayn replies, nodding his head and lying back down, wrapping his arms around Niall’s pillow. “Have fun at work.”

“See you in a few hours,” Niall says and Zayn listens as he begins to leave, and then when Niall rushes back to the bedroom to press a kiss to Zayn’s head.

Zayn hides his smile in the pillow and doesn’t pull away until the front door is slamming closed behind Niall.

~~~~~

Zayn spends the next hour trying to fall asleep to no avail. He tosses and turns, but it’s too bright outside and the cars and people below are making far too much noise for him to fall into a blissful slumber. So he crawls out of bed, slipping on one of Niall’s t-shirts and heads towards the kitchen.

Through the process of trying to fall asleep and failing, Zayn had begun to grow guilty for his thoughts earlier in the day.

He had begun to feel guilt because, Niall had said how he didn’t have a mark and no one could possibly want someone like him, because he’s not made for anyone. Niall’s not like the rest of the people living in today’s world, he’s different. He’s without a mark, without another half of his soul out in the world, waiting to complete in him and fill in all his cracked edges.

Niall doesn’t have anyone like that and before Zayn, he felt alone and unworthy, like he would never be good enough for anyone, and because of Harry, Zayn almost had second thoughts about what it meant to be with Niall. If there was really a point if things were destined to fail in the end anyway, or so Harry made it out to seem.

Zayn feels guilty because Niall is worth so much more than a mark on his skin.

Zayn feels guilty because being Niall doesn’t deserve to be with someone that questions what might happen if someone else comes along, and Zayn doesn’t want to be that type of person. He wants to be the person that changes the way Niall feels about himself, the person that takes away his thoughts about not being good enough and squashes them down to nothing.

So Zayn comes up with an idea, because he has no intentions of telling Niall about what happened today, but he wants to do something that will make Niall happy, so he starts by cleaning Niall’s apartment, or well, trying to clean it. He still doesn’t know where everything goes, but a nice surface cleaning to get everything organized before he cooks him dinner. A meal to let Niall know that he was thinking about him and wants to make him happy.

~~~~~

Niall’s apartment is covered in a thick fog when he gets home and Zayn curses under his breath, because he’s had the windows open for an hour, trying to get the smell of burnt dinner out of the apartment.

Zayn had no idea how he managed to burn the chicken in the oven and then somehow, he really doesn’t know how, set fire to the pasta cooking on the stove. Luckily, it was just a small fire, one that he put out by throwing the pot in the sink and starting the water. It, along with the chicken, had caused thick clouds of smoke to take over Niall’s apartment; the smoke detector going off several times until Zayn finally ripped the batteries out and tossed it on the table.

Zayn ruined the dinner that he planned, forcing him to order pizza and draw a big fat x over the box and write ‘made by Zayn’ on them.

All of the windows are opened and Zayn’s frantically trying to get the smoke out of the apartment. He can hear Niall muttering, ‘what the fuck’ followed by the sound of his laughter breaking through the silence of the house. Zayn groans and tries to hide behind a curtain, he doesn’t want Niall to see him waving his arms around frantically, trying to get the smoke out of the apartment, but Niall finds him away, the blond clutching at his stomach and laughing.

“What did you do?” Niall asks, the words coming out in wheezes while he laughs.

“I tried making dinner,” Zayn mutters, still waving his hands in the air before he drops them to his sides, releasing a heavy sigh. “Tried being the key word, I suppose. I just wanted to do something nice for you, but I fucked it all up.” He groans against, dropping on the couch. “But I’ve got pizzas, so feel free to eat whenever you want.”

Zayn glances over his shoulder to see Niall entering the room again with the pizza boxes, one for each of them. He didn’t know how hungry Niall would be, if he would have eaten at work, or if he would have come home with an appetite. It looks like he made the right choice buying two.

Niall sets the pizza on the table and curls up next to Zayn, resting his legs on Zayn’s lap and reaching up to thread his fingers through Zayn’s hair. “This is perfect,” he says softly, leaning his forehead against Zayn’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the shirt-covered skin. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I almost set your apartment on fire,” Zayn mutters, nudging Niall’s face up so he can see it. “This is hardly perfect.”

“No, maybe you’re right,” Niall says, nodding his head and shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe it’s not whatever meal you had planned, but it’s the thought that counts. You wanted to do something nice for me.”

“And I failed,” Zayn says, flailing his arm around to show off the smoke and the pizza boxes. “If you look in your trash, you’ll see the burnt remains of what was supposed to be dinner.”

“Nonsense,” Niall mumbles, leaning towards the table and grabbing one of the pizza boxes, showing it off like a prize. “You did, apparently, make this wonderful pizza, if this handwritten note is anything to go by.”

Niall’s biting his lip, trying to contain the laughter that’s threatening to spill from his lips, because it really is absurd; this whole situation, especially the handwritten ‘made by Zayn’ on the pizza box. Zayn sighs, pushing gently at Niall’s shoulder while he rolls his eyes. “Go ahead and laugh, it’s funny.”

“No. No, it’s not funny,” Niall says, smiling widely for a second before he shakes himself, refusing to let it show anymore just how funny he finds the situation. “This is amazing. Next time, though, we’ll try and make a meal together. I’ve yet to burn down the place, your track record isn’t the best, so we’ll work together on it. All right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Zayn agrees easily, because he doesn’t want to cause Niall to be homeless.

Niall sighs and leans forward, pressing his lips against Zayn’s gently, kissing him slowly. Kissing Zayn until he pulls away with a breathy sigh, knocking their foreheads together.

“Now, let’s eat,” Niall cries, pulling one of the pizza boxes into his lap and handing Zayn the other one. “I have had the longest day of my life at work today. It started off with this girl coming in, already crying and—“

Zayn listens as Niall launches into a story about his day, trails of cheese hanging out of the corners of his mouth while he talks around mouthfuls of food. Zayn stares at him, admiring the way details that Niall puts into his stories and the way that his stomach flutters at the sound of Niall’s voice.

~~~~~~

It starts off as lazy kissing on the couch, pizza boxes left abandoned on the floor, slices getting cold from the air drifting through the open windows, but Zayn can feel the kisses getting a little more urgent, a little more needy. The breathy whines leaving Niall’s mouth getting more and more frequent as Zayn’s hands roam across Niall’s skin, sliding underneath his shirt, up his back and slowly, ever so slowly dragging his blunt nails down Niall’s skin. It’s amazing how noisy Niall gets when they kiss, high pitched whines and groans escaping his mouth, so unlike the quiet breathy moans that spill out of him during sex.

And Zayn knows, can feel Niall’s dick thickening and hardening against his hip that that the kissing will turn into sex and Niall’s high pitched whining will turn into the deep groan that escapes from the back of his throat. And as he thinks it, Niall pulls away; placing open mouth kisses along his jaw until he’s breathing the word ‘bedroom’ into Zayn’s neck.

They kiss on the walk down the hallway, bumping into the walls, giggling into each other’s mouths until they reach the bedroom, stumbling in.

Niall pulls away slowly, pressing a chaste kiss to Zayn’s lips before he takes a couple steps back and stares at Zayn.

It doesn’t feel like the first time or the time after that or any of the other times before. This time, in this moment, the lights are on, Niall’s bedside lamp creating a soft glow across the room and Niall’s looking at Zayn with this…thing in his eyes, this emotion that Zayn can’t quite read.

The staring continues for a moment until Niall slowly peels off his shirt, dropping it down on the floor next to him, exposing his pale torso. He looks at Zayn, stepping forward and slowly removes the shirt off Zayn’s body, taking his time to run his fingers over Zayn’s skin, dragging them down to the waistband of his boxers – Zayn never bothered putting a pair on, he wanted to, but after burning the chicken, he figured it didn’t matter what he was wearing. Niall pulls them off next, dragging them down his thighs slowly, taking his time to touch Zayn’s skin as they go.

Zayn steps out of them, kicking them to the side and takes a deep breath as Niall’s eyes roam over his body. Then Zayn’s unbuttoning Niall’s jeans, dragging them and his boxers down in one go until they’re both naked, staring at each other, taking it all in.

Niall smiles slowly and shrugs. Zayn can’t take his eyes off him; he’s finally seeing Niall in all his glory, the lights fully on, not hiding anything. Zayn wants to touch him, wants to lay him out and memorize everything while he can. So he steps forward, grabbing Niall’s hips and pushing him on the bed, waiting until he crawls up, laying back with his head on the pillows before Zayn steps on it.

He crawls between Niall’s legs, spreading them wide and running his fingers along Niall’s thighs, marveling in the way the skin shivers beneath his touch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Zayn murmurs.

God, his head is spinning with Niall underneath, his vision blurring and focusing solely on the blond. It hasn’t happened in a while, but Zayn feels these animal urges, this base instinct written deep in his bones to understand Niall’s body completely.

“You gonna do anything while you’re down there? Or are you just going to stare all night?” Niall asks, lifting up one of his legs to wrap it around Zayn’s back, pulling him in closer. “I’m hoping you’ll choose option number one.” He uses his hands to point down at his dick, thick and hard, and pressing against his stomach.

Zayn smiles and grabs Niall’s thighs, spreading them open a little wider. He starts with Niall’s knee, pressing a light kiss to the skin before he slowly leads them down his inner thigh, pressing kiss after kiss, listening as Niall curses above him, shuddering. He spreads his thighs even further, ready to take Niall into his mouth when the sees it, the three tiny dots on the inside of Niall’s thigh, just inches away from where the skin folds.

He looks at it, brushing his thumb across it and Niall groans, muttering a quiet, “fuck.” Zayn feels the chill that runs up Niall’s spine, can feel the shudder that takes over his body when Zayn’s skin runs across the dots.

“Who knew that thighs were a thing for you,” Zayn mumbles.

Niall sits up and glances down at Zayn, watching as Zayn’s thumb brushes across the skin. “Mm, those freckles are burning is all. I need to get them checked out, haven’t stopped lately.”

“They don’t look like freckles,” Zayn says, because they’re small and dark, almost black in color with an odd greenish tint to them. Zayn’s taken his time to memorize the freckles on Niall’s body, all of them different variations of brown, nothing like these. The color of these ones is almost the exact same as the ‘Friday?’ on his collarbone.

And it’s like the air has been sucked out of Zayn’s lungs, he can’t breathe. Nothing and everything is making sense in his head and he wants to throw up from the way that the room is spinning, making him dizzy. These aren’t freckles; these are Niall’s mark. And as soon as the thought enters his mind, he drops his head down on Niall’s thigh and laughs, because what else can he do?

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t laugh with your head so close to my dick, not exactly good for a man’s ego,” Niall mumbles, trying to lift Zayn’s head off his thigh.

“No, babe. It’s not that, it’s not like that at all,” Zayn says once he’s finally got himself under control. “These dots are your mark. This is your soul mark.”

“What?” Niall asks, sitting up completely and staring down at Zayn. “That’s not funny, Zayn. It’s not fucking funny at all. I told you that I don’t have a mark.”

Zayn ignores him and asks, “When did the burning start?”

Niall looks at him for a moment, his eyes scanning across Zayn’s face as he thinks. “I don’t know when exactly, but probably about when I met you. Actually, when I met you. The first time, when you ran off, not the time after that.” Niall’s skin blushes bright red and Zayn reaches up to stroke Niall’s cheek.

“What were the first words you said to me? Do you remember?” Zayn asks.

“I asked about your tattoo, the Friday one. I still don’t understand why you’d get that put on your body, but it’s pretty fucking hot regardless. Anyway, I asked you about the tattoo and then asked if everything was okay, because you didn’t even blink when you looked up at me, and then you bolted, running clear out of the store,” Niall says, pointing in the direction of his bedroom door to demonstrate what he means.

“Niall, my the Friday on my collarbone isn’t a tattoo. It’s my mark; remember when I told you that? It’s been on my body since birth,” Zayn explains, watching as Niall frowns. “I never said anything to you when we first met, I glanced up at you and felt like my entire body was out of sorts, I couldn’t breathe and my vision blurred and my stomach clenched, so I fled, because you know when you meet your soul mate. You know. Your mark is three dots because I didn’t say anything to you when we first met.”

Niall looks at Zayn, blinking slowly for a second before he says, “So that means, um. It means that you’re mine. You’re my soul mate?”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods, breathing out the word. “I’m yours.”

Niall’s face breaks out into a smile and he jumps forward, knocking Zayn backwards until their roles are reversed, Niall leaning over Zayn’s body and pressing kiss after kiss to his lips and every inch of his face, muttering, “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” The words come out over and over again, like a mantra until Zayn can feel Niall shaking above him, the blond releasing a deep breath. “Holy shit, I thought I was alone. I didn’t think I had anyone. But you’re mine, you’re all mine.”

And it’s like Zayn can see the stars in the sky aligning up like the marks on Niall’s skin, a little constellation of stars made just for them. Three perfect little dots in the sky.

~~~~~~

It takes what feels like forever to get Niall to stop kissing him, the blond unable to keep the smile off his face until Zayn is rocking his hips up, dick rubbing against the blonds, sending him a silent reminder of why they’re naked and in bed.

Niall kisses Zayn slowly when he opens him up, fingers pressed inside of him and rubbing up against his prostate, continuing to chant mine into Zayn’s mouth until Zayn is begging him, doing everything he can to get Niall to give him something more than three fingers.

When Niall fucks into him, it’s soft and slow, the movements of his hips corresponding to the movements of his hand, not slow enough to the point of not being enough, but slow enough to slowly work them up, slowly building their orgasms and extending the time he has to be inside of Zayn.

He whispers ‘mine’ into Zayn’s ear, gasping and moaning the words out with every thrust, like it’s the only word he knows out to use.

And when they come, they come together, and Zayn swears that he can feel everything in his body click into place, all of his senses shifting back into some form of normalcy instead of trying to overpower him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What did we get them again?” Zayn asks, knocking on what is now Nick and Louis’ front door, no longer just Nick’s.

“We got them a plant,” Niall replies and Zayn’s heard it a hundred times in the last three days, but he still doesn’t understand why they got Louis and Nick a plant for their housewarming present. Not like they deserved anything, the apartment is complete, already filled with both of their things.

Zayn’s ready to argue the point again when the door swings open, revealing Louis’ smiling face, the boy unable to wipe the grin off his face since Nick asked him three weeks ago. “Welcome to the Tomlinson-Grimshaw residence.”

“Thank you,” Niall and Zayn say in unison, Niall handing Louis the plant as he shoves past him.

Zayn can hear him shouting a greeting to the rest of the boys, and he can’t help but roll his eyes fondly.

“Your soul mate is a bit much sometimes,” Louis sighs, shutting the front door and setting the plant down on the table next to it.

Zayn doesn’t reply, because it still blows his mind sometimes that Niall is his soul mate. He knew it all along, or he had hoped all along, but it’s an entirely different thing to be completely sure every morning when he wakes up next the blond.

He follows Louis into the living room and finds Niall standing in front of Liam and Harry, the two holding hands and chatting with the blond. Louis walks past them, disappearing into the kitchen where Zayn can hear him grumbling about how all the guests have arrived and Nick isn’t ready with the food, Nick shouting back that Louis could help, it is his apartment too after all. Zayn tunes them out and steps behind Niall, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling his back against his own chest.

“Oh hello,” Niall mutters, leaning back against Zayn, turning his head to press a kiss to Zayn’s cheek. “Do I know you?”

“I think you do,” Zayn teases back. “You’ve got a mark on your thigh that tells me that you’re mine.”

“Right, sometimes I forget,” Niall says, giggling softly when Zayn bites his neck.

Zayn hears someone groan from in front of them. Pulling his face out of Niall’s neck, he sees Harry rolling his eyes. “You two are gross now that you’re soul mates. Absolutely disgusting,” he mumbles, but he’s smiling, winking at them before the turns to look at Liam. “Liam, kiss me. Let’s be grosser than them, okay?”

Zayn rolls his eyes, tucking his face back into Niall’s neck, kissing the skin softly. He breathes in Niall’s scent, letting it wash over him until he sighs, feeling at ease.

Niall’s his soul mate and Zayn can’t think of anything better than that.