Work Text:
Liam could hear the sounds of birds chirping and mopeds zooming through the streets, somehow at the same time. “Only in Paris.” He thought to himself. He tucked his head into a gray beanie and carefully put on sunglasses as he walked out of the hotel. The street was nice and secluded from the city center, almost like an alleyway, but if he walked a mere three blocks, he would be in the midst of tourist hot spots. That was definitely not what he wanted.
Liam told his manager Louis that he wanted to get away from it all. There were too many paps on the streets of London. He wanted to go somewhere low-key so he could concentrate on his writing. He was fortunate enough as an artist that his first album debuted at number two in the UK top forty charts, with his first three singles all charting top ten in the UK, US, and a half a dozen other countries worldwide. Right now, though, he was in between albums, and just wanted to relax, and he couldn’t walk ten feet in a London shopping mall without getting hoarded by fans. He loved them, he really did, but he needed some time alone to just be his old self. He wanted to relax somewhere low-key.
“Louis said he would take me to an obscure little town in France,” Liam thought. “The bloody liar. I’d fire his arse if he wasn’t my best friend.”
As he contemplated all of the ways he could take revenge on his best friend/manager, he came to an abrupt stop in front of a small café. He looked up at the sign above the windows. ‘Un Café sur Un Million’ it read, in mostly gray light bulbs. They wouldn’t be on this early, but Liam had a feeling they wouldn’t all work in the evening anyway.
“Hmm… this is as good a place as any,” He thought to himself, as he walked into the open entranceway.
There was no waiter at the front, but there were also only about three other patrons there in total at the time, so he just took a place in the far corner. He noticed old murals all over the walls, fading in some parts, and vibrantly colored in others. The table he chose wasn’t in the best shape either, but he shrugged; Liam wanted low-key, and he definitely got it.
He was only sitting down for thirty seconds before he felt a presence to his right. Without even looking up, he heard the waiter talk. “Uhh… bonjour monsieur. J’e suis le garcon. Uh, que voulez-vous?”
Crap. Liam didn’t think this through. He wanted France, but he didn’t speak French. He hid his face in the menu, a reflex for being out in public. Just as he feared, the words were primarily in French. And he was actually looking forward to coffee too. “Uhhmmm…” he awkwardly said, looking down. “There wouldn’t be any chance that… parlez-vouz Anglais?”
“Oh qui monsieur.” Laughed the waiter. “It’s actually me first language.” Liam heard a veiled hint of a Northern British accent. It was a deep drawl, but had a sexy, charming tone to it. He looked up to see the waiter smiling at him.
Oh crap again. He looked up to see the most impossibly fit waiter in this hemisphere, or so Liam thought. He had olive skin, not too dark or too light for Liam’s taste. His hair was spiky and covered his forehead. His facial hair was in all the right places. And that smile. And those eyes!
He should probably say something considering it’s been 60 seconds or so. “Oh uhh… that’s great mate. Uhmm… hmm… what was I gonna ask…” He looked back down at the menu in order to hide the redness he knew was currently occupying his cheeks.
“You wanna know the specials ‘cause ya don’t speak Francais?” smiled the waiter.
“How did you know?” chuckled Liam, finding it really difficult to not stare into those eyes.
“I’ve been a waiter in Paris for years, mate.” The waiter smiled. “I know how it goes.” He grinned and gently took the menu from Liam’s hands, while carefully noted the way his elbow brushed his own shoulder. “How about I fix ya up with some coffee and one of our famous omelets. Ya like ham?”
“Definitely.” Said Liam, trying to reorganize his thoughts, as this stranger who had just finished invading his personal space was just starting to invade other dark corners of his mind.
“The name’s Zayn, by the way.” He smiled as he walked to the kitchen.
“Zayn.” Liam repeated softly, out loud. How incredibly fitting.
It had only been two minutes or so since Zayn left Liam at the table when something caught his eyes outside. A few cars were parking outside and quickly rolling down their windows. Then he recognized the large black instruments they were holding- cameras. “Aw geez. Here we go,” Thought Liam to himself. The paps had found him here, in Paris.
He instinctively began to get up, but he paused for a moment. He didn’t want to be rude and leave an establishment when they were making him food. Oh, who was he kidding- he just wanted another shot at flirting with the pretty waiter boy without sounding like a mute puppy. His hesitation cost him, thought, because by then, six people each with cameras around their necks began to swarm the entrance, each already taking random snapshots. Liam moved quickly to the back entrance to make an escape, but blocking that smaller entrance were four others, waiting outside armed with cameras. This was not good.
As Liam began to panic, he felt a hand tug him into the kitchen. When he was through the door, he instinctively pulled his hand away, only to find it was Zayn pulling him.
“Ya wanna get outta here in one piece, right?” Zayn asked. Liam could do nothing but nod in shock. “Come on.” He said, and Liam followed him through the kitchen. They pushed through another set of doors in an unseen back room past the kitchen. It was dark, but he could see a set of stairs. At first he was hesitant to go up. Who WAS this guy?
Zayn looked down at Liam from the stairs. Almost reading his mind, he said “Leeyum, Come on. It’s either me, or the paps, and I don’t think you want your name splashed on every French tabloid in the country.”
“Wha- how did you know?”
“You’re Liam Payne for crying out loud, now come on, let’s go upstairs!”
“Wha- uh…“ He was in shock but followed him anyway. “Where exactly are we going? Another floor of the café?”
“No. The café’s only one floor. We’re going to where they can’t snap pictures of ya.”
“Where’s that?”
At this Zayn stopped, turned around, and smiled. “My place.”
Liam heard a loud click and saw a surge of daylight. He didn’t know who this stranger was, who apparently lived at the top of a café, but his body seemed willing to go with him. He knew there were plenty of logical reasons not to, and Louis would wring his neck if he found out, but Louis is the one who brought him here in the first place, so, he could just moan all he wanted for all Liam cared. This was happening.
- - -
Liam looked out the window to the streets below. He could see the cars of the paparazzi, with some people going in and out of them. It was evident they had made a scene, and some were starting to give up. But Liam wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
He turned around to take in the scene. The apartment reminded him a lot of his aunt’s place growing up. She was single, and he visited her a lot as a kid. While she didn’t make a lot of money as a bartender, she was too proud to live with Liam’s family. So she lived the bachelorette lifestyle in an apartment similar to this one. A bit run down, yet, it was a still cozy in its own warm way. That’s exactly how Liam would describe Zayn’s place. He saw curtains that were too old and empty pots that might have housed plants at one point. He saw carpets and painting that have all seen better days. Still, it was nice and small for person, not at all like his apartment, which oftentimes felt too big and hollow for one man.
When Zayn got close to look out the window as well, Liam tried to subtly stare at him from the side. The afternoon sun coming in through the window only made his skin shine, and his dark stubble offset it in the best way. His facial structure was definitely carved by a loving god, or so Liam thought.
After realizing he was staring for a bit too long, Liam sat down on the old couch in the center of the room. He took off his beanie and shades and ran his fingers through his buzz cut brown hair. “Well I guess we’re stuck in here for now,” said Liam, desperately trying to fill the silence. “Sorry about all the trouble I caused… uh, Zayn.”
“It’s no problem at all.” Said Zayn. It seemed like he was about to sit down next to Liam, when a panic appeared on his face. He immediately turned around and starting picking up random objects off the ground. “Crap. Uhhh, sorry, me place is a mess.” He threw some old sneakers that didn’t match into a nearby closet. “I don’t usually have company.”
“It’s totally fine,” smiled Liam. Gosh, this guy was cute. “Come relax. We’ve got awhile. Unless you’ve got to get back to the restaurant. I hope you don’t kick me out now. I’ll get eaten alive out there!” He chuckled, pointing to the window.
Zayn slowly looked at Liam. He didn’t say anything, just stared at him sitting on the couch, almost studying him. “Uhh… no, I… I think they’ll survive an hour or so without me. You can stay as long as you like.” He sat down on the couch, but on the opposite end, a good foot away from Liam. Liam immediately shifted a bit closer, but still not touching Zayn.
“Cool.” Said Liam. “….uh… so.”
“So.” Said Zayn. Oh God. This is what he’s like when’s with a beautiful man, Liam thought. Real smooth.
“Uhm. You… you know me?”
“Uhh.. umm, well yeah, I mean…” Zayn scratched the back of his neck and looked down. “I listen to the radio. I own a computer, right? You’re Liam Payne!”
“That I am!” Liam laughed. After a few more awkward silences spent with the two of them looking at random objects, anything but each other, Liam spoke up. “So you live where you work?”
“Uhh yeah…” said Zayn, scratching his stubble and looking down. Liam desperately wanted to touch his face too, but settled instead at just staring. “It’s a bit of a story, but I kinduv inherited the place.”
“From your parents?”
“From me mum, yeah. Like, me parents split up when I was young. For the longest time it was just me mum and I up in Bradford in the UK.”
“Oh that explains the accent!”
“Yeah yeah…” said Zayn, looking down still. “And like… eventually she inherited this little Café in Paris. I’d spend some time here and some time in Bradford, then finally…” He paused to wring his hands a bit. “A bunch of years ago, me mum got sick. So I stayed here, ran the shop. Didn’t go to Uni. Made some money. She finally passed four years ago, but ya know, she didn’t want to suffer, and we got a lot of time to say goodbye. So yeah. Now here I am.”
Liam felt his heart break just hearing that story. He immediately reached over and put his hand on Zayn’s back. “Zayn I’m so sorry…”
“Nah, it was a long time ago mate.” Zayn looked up and began to smile. “So uh… what’s a big shot pop star from the UK doing here. Lemme guess, holiday?”
Liam laughed and shook his head, “Uh, not really. I just felt so stuffed up in London. Like under a microscope. Couldn’t get any writing done. And no writing no album, so,” Liam shrugged. “I needed to get away.”
“So you came to Paris?” laughed Zayn, incredulously.
“I know, right?!” laughed Liam. “My manager’s so dumb! My best mate, but he’s so dumb sometimes!”
Zayn laughed with Liam at that one. Liam couldn’t help but notice how easy this all was. Laughing with Zayn. Talking with Zayn. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in months, really.
“Uhmm,” Zayn coughed, “Why didn’t ya spend holiday with yer like… girlfriend, or whatever?” Zayn looked up at the ceiling as he asked this. Liam could almost see a nervousness in Zayn’s face, but he was probably just imagining it.
“Well, I actually don’t have one at the moment.” Laughed Liam awkwardly. “But uhmm… I bet you have dozens of girls after you.”
“Why’d you say that?” asked Zayn, grinning.
“Because look at ya!” Liam said. He was staring out the window in an effort to hide his nervousness. “You got all the looks. With the hair and the eyes and what not. I bet you could charm any French girl who walks into that café!”
Zayn laughed at that one and looked down again. “Well uhh… no such luck. Besides, I don’t think girls are for me.”
Liam had to fight really hard not to pump his fist in the air at that one.
- - -
One hour passed and the pair were still talking and laughing on the couch. How did Liam get this comfortable with someone so quickly? They told each other all their favorite things to do growing up (Football, obviously) and all their favorite artists (Leona Lewis is a treasure). Zayn told him what it was like to grow up in the city of love (“It doesn’t rain as much, that’s the big difference.”) and Liam told Zayn what life was like on tour (“You never get used to being on stage. I never will.”). Just like that, the two of them fell into this rhythm, and Liam loved it.
“Hey, I think I stopped hearing the paps outside.” Said Zayn. He got up to check the window while Liam stayed on the couch. He couldn’t hide the disappointed look on his face. He wasn’t ready to leave! He hadn’t fully memorized the color of Zayn’s eyes or learned about every single tattoo on his body and he really wanted to kiss him but hadn’t yet and one hour wasn’t enough!
“Yeah, they’re gone.” Said Zayn. “Well, I guess you’re free now Leeyum. You are no longer kidnapped by me!”
Liam chuckled at that too and just stared at Zayn. He smiled and looked at him in silence for a moment. When he finally stood up, Zayn reached for the door to let him out.
After he opened it, however, Liam put his hand over Zayn’s and closed the door. He moved closer and closer to Zayn, backing him into a wall. “Liam…” said Zayn, nervously trying to get space in between them but to no avail.
“Zayn… I had a great time today. I think you’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met,” said Liam in a hushed whisper. “I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone… and I don’t really wanna say goodbye.” His eyes flickered between Zayn’s and Zayn’s lips. He mustered up every ounce of courage, all for this. It was now or never.
Zayn’s eyes were closed and there was a mere centimeter of air between their two faces. “Liam.. I…” With that Liam, finally bridged the gap between the two of them, something he’s wanted to do all day.
For a moment, Liam’s lips stayed still, unsure of Zayn really felt the same way. Finally Zayn’s lips broke apart, allow Liam full control. It had been awhile since he felt sparks like these, so Liam took full advantage, kissing like he would never see Zayn again, because for all he knew, he wouldn’t. Zayn tasted like coffee and some other scent that Liam couldn’t recognize, but now he couldn’t get enough. Zayn placed his hands on Liam’s hips, but that quickly moved up under his shirt, memorizing the marks of Liam’s spine. Liam held Zayn’s face gently, occasionally playing with his facial hair with his thumbs. Yes, it was just as soft as he imagined.
When they finally broke it off, Zayn said, “Leeyum… ya don’t… ya don’t even know me…”
Liam studied Zayn’s face. He seemed to be in pain. It was like saying those words were pulling teeth.
“Like, I could be a murderer, a crazy man, and I let ya into me home and…” Zayn waved his arm around pointing to the apartment. “You’re a gorgeous pop star and I just took advantage of the whole situation!” He covered his face with his other hand. “I’m a terrible person. I basically just lured ya in here!”
“…You think I’m gorgeous?”
“Liam I’m serious!”
Liam simply chuckled. Zayn dropped his hands and looked at him, his expression half pissed, but also half confused.
“You’re not a bad person,” said Liam. “Trust me, I work in the music industry… I know bad people. You’re not one of them.” Liam put his beanie on and put on his shades.
“I like you a lot Zayn. Maybe I’ll see you around when I’m not… ya know… being lured into your dungeon apartment,” Liam chuckled sarcastically. He quickly kissed Zayn on the cheek and walked down the stairs. Zayn was just in shock, mouth hanging open like a small trout, as he let Liam Payne walk out of his apartment.
- - -
The next morning, Zayn was wiping down a table that patrons just left. The morning rush was over, so after this, he would go on break. Just then, he heard footsteps coming from behind.
He groaned to himself internally, but he managed to muster up a cheerful smile before turning around to say, “Bonjour! Com-“
Liam stood there smiling. No beanie, no shades, just a very loose-fitting tank that left very little to the imagination. “Bonjour.” Said Liam.
“Uhhh…” Zayn’s mouth hung open. “Uh…. Liam… what if someone sees you?!” he said, pulling Liam into the kitchen.
“What? So then you can force me into your lair??” he said, sarcastically. “Then force me OUT just so you can say it could never work out between us? Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to take a chance on YOU??”
Zayn’s face turned red at that.
“I like you,” continued Liam. “I liked getting to know you. Can’t you just accept that?”
Zayn threw his apron down and looked up at the ceiling. Then the floor. Pretty much anywhere but Liam. “Leeyum… it’s just… I’ve worked hard for all the things in my life. Beautiful pop stars don’t just come out of nowhere and fall into my life, there must be something wrong-“
Liam firmly planted his lips to shut Zayn up, pulling at him by his collar. The stubble tickled his face, but Liam loved it.
“So… you think I’m ‘beautiful’ huh?” he grinned.
“Shut up.” Said Zayn, finally laying his lips on Liam. They stayed like that for a solid two minutes, lips cascading on one another, like a dance they were meant to do their whole lives. Zayn’s tongue tasted so sweet, and Liam couldn’t get enough. Zayn grabbed onto Liam’s firm, muscular back, as Liam pushed him backward so that he was sitting on a kitchen counter.
When they finally came up for air, Zayn said, “You know, if one of the other waiters see me sitting here, we’ll never be able to make omelets again.”
“You still owe me an omelet from yesterday,” said Liam, breathlessly against Zayn’s neck. “You’re a terrible waiter.”
“I knowwww,” moaned Zayn as Liam continued to kiss his neck. “How about I get you one tomorrow… morning?”
Liam pulled back instantly, “Oh?”
Zayn raised an eyebrow and smirked and- oh no. That was it for Liam.
“Upstairs?” he asked, desperately as he pulled Zayn back down.
“Oui, s’il vous plait,” He said. He grabbed Liam’s ass, then they briskly walked to the stairs, giggling, hand-in-hand.