what if you woke up one day and your butthole was gone oh my god
I wouldn’t give a shit
it always amazes me when people are surprised by how fast I type like really I spend all of my time on the computer don’t you think I would get a little good at it
Everybody always wondered where Zayn went whenever he disappeared into his head. Whenever he was silent for hours on end or simply didn’t get out of bed. What he could possibly be thinking, dreaming of, whilst spending so much time on his own. And really, Zayn couldn’t pinpoint it himself for a while. He never thought that becoming an international superstar would slow him down so much, would force him to just think so damn much all the time. He had been expecting to be too busy for feelings and emotions and pining. He thought that this would be the time of his life where he could just take what he wanted and be happy.
How wrong he was came in the form of Liam Payne.
Liam was the sun; Liam brightened up every dark corner of Zayn’s life, and even when he was upset, there was a little part of him that just couldn’t give in because of Liam. Couldn’t revel in the anger and the hurt because Liam was there, bright-eyed and smiling, nudging at him until he moved over in bed because he was convinced that Zayn needed a cuddle; needed to be with someone rather than spend another night alone.
And on nights like those, Zayn would just wrap himself around Liam and listen to him prattle on about completely trivial issues that meant absolutely nothing, but Zayn never wanted to hear him stop. Rather, he’d curl in a little closer, bury his hand a little further into Liam’s hair, and murmur his assent that he was listening. Because he always was.
To Zayn, Liam was the stars; Liam shone even in the darkness. On the rare occasion that Liam was upset or had something bothering him, he always managed to put it aside so easily for others. Always managed to stop and re-evaluate and focus on the bigger picture — but sometimes Zayn didn’t let him.
He’d wrap his arms around Liam’s waist and press his entire body along the length of Liam’s in the dressing room, or backstage, and murmur, “What’s up, babe?” in his ear.
And whatever they were, they didn’t name it. They didn’t label it. They went as far as they went but never begged the other to categorise them; they simply didn’t need it.
Liam would lean back into Zayn and exhale, as if all the aching from his bones just dissipated into thin air upon his touch.
“Nothing now,” he’d reply, shyly, and it was their own little secret.
This thing of theirs, it was just that — theirs.
Nobody ever noticed it because they had the little things; nothing was dramatic or overblown with them. There weren’t any tears, there wasn’t any jealousy, there was just them, together and alone, revelling in the others company. It was them, interlinking fingers behind the couch during an interview, subtly brushing up against each other like shy kittens in photo shoots, sneaking into each others bunks on the tour bus, gazing at one another as if the secrets to the universe lay in the auburn-brown eyes opposite. Little things like these, everyone else dismissed as trivial, as friendly but unimportant; but these little things meant everything to Liam and Zayn.
It was just before they fell asleep that they poured their hearts out; really spoke to each other with raw honesty and perceived each other with no judgement.
“Sometimes I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream,” Zayn admitted, his eyes fluttering shut every few moments as he faced Liam in his tiny bunk on the tour bus. Anyone else would interpret this confession as a reference to their success as artists, but Liam wasn’t anyone else.
“Dreams are never this amazing,” Liam will murmur back sleepily, as he ran his fingers through Zayn’s dark hair.
Zayn tugged Liam a little closer by their entangled legs. ”Will you still be here in the morning?”
Liam edged forward until their foreheads were brushing and pecked Zayn on the lips.
Just as Zayn fell asleep, Liam replied, “And every morning after that.”