Chapter Text
Zayn
Zayn steps off the bus, pulling his coat tighter around his slender frame. Today is one of those days when he really wonders how he got here. It's cold, it's wet, and it's definitely too early for him to be on his way to work. Zayn adores his sleep, and to get up at this hour—tend to his cat, take the bus to the outskirts of Newcastle and walk for another kilometre to Tomlinson's Gym—is just a little bit soul destroying.
His mood lightens as he gets out of the rain and lets himself into the two storey building. On his early shift, he is usually the first one here. Though his official job title is Receptionist, his duties include making sure everything is clean and in good shape to welcome the waves of fitness enthusiasts coming through the door. Sometimes he wishes he got more credit (or at least more pay), but he likes it here, and he is grateful to Louis Tomlinson for giving him this job.
It was a chance meeting in a pub when he got talking to Louis, who had just inherited the gym from his uncle. He told Zayn that he didn't really want it much at all, but he wasn't going to disrespect his uncle's final wish. So he dropped out of his studies and gave up on the dream of being an English teacher. Louis and Zayn grew closer over a sizeable amount of pints, and in the end Zayn accepted the position. He’s never regretted that decision.
Louis is a great boss: he lets his staff be mostly self-directed and, as an added bonus, Zayn doesn't have to wear a uniform—a very big plus in his book.
Tomlinson's Gym consists of a fitness suite, a studio and a swimming pool, and the obligatory locker rooms, of course. After a satisfactory inspection, Zayn heads outside for a quick cigarette. Running his fingers through his thick, silky hair, he checks his black jeans and t-shirt for wrinkles or spills, and then he's ready to go.
"Zayn," a cheerful voice calls out. "How's it going, my man?"
Zayn looks up with a smile to see Niall, the resident swimming instructor, bounding through the gym’s entrance. Niall is an exchange student from Ireland and studies sport at Newcastle University, but he still manages to run a number of hugely popular classes at the gym. Clad in a tracksuit and shiny white trainers, he plonks himself on one of the reception stools and proceeds to fix his damp blond hair into something acceptable.
"Do you have to be so energetic this early in the day?" Zayn asks, but his fond smile belies his exhausted tone of voice.
"My classes are at the same time as Sophia's today, bro, reason enough to be cheerful," Niall beams.
"Have you asked her out yet?" Zayn wants to know.
"Nope," Niall replies with a lopsided grin, "I don't think she quite recognises her overwhelming attraction to me yet." Zayn pats him on the shoulder in a sympathetic gesture and carries on folding the pile of freshly laundered towels.
Niall really should make his move, he muses. Sophia is a lovely girl who is one of the few full time staff members. She is a personal trainer, and Niall hasn't been able to stop drooling over her since she smiled a cheerful 'hello' at him on his first day. Zayn sees the glances she throws Niall's way, but he thinks it's probably a good idea to stay out of this one.
"Oh, by the way, the boss is on his way in," Niall informs Zayn.
"How does he look?"
"Dunno, I just saw his car in the car park. I hope Nick didn't give him his usual bullshit over the weekend," frowns Niall. "I don't know why he insists on staying in that crap relationship."
"You know why," Zayn sighs and stops what he is doing, but when he sees Niall put his finger to his lips, indicating that Louis is near, he doesn't elaborate further.
"Good morning, lads," Louis arrives with a brilliant smile for his employees. Whether or not it’s backed by genuine happiness is anyone’s guess.
Louis Tomlinson is simply gorgeous with a figure to die for and amazingly blue eyes, Zayn observes (not for the first time). However, the idea that there could be any romance between them went out of the window very quickly and was replaced with a close friendship.
"Lads, I've been thinking, and I've come to the conclusion that we need something new around here. More variety for the clients. It's difficult to compete with the big gyms in the city, and we can't take our foot off the pedal." Louis rubs his palms together and leans against the reception counter, waiting for a reaction from the boys.
"Got anything in mind?" Zayn asks.
"Zumba seems to be popular, but we have nobody to deliver the programme, and, to be honest, I can't pay a lot of money. It’ll be a chore finding someone who only wants a few hours." He puts his head into his hands like he doesn't really think anything will come of his idea. It’s typical, these days, for Louis to go from confidence to doubt in a matter of moments, and Zayn pretty much hates the man responsible for the change—one Nicholas Grimshaw.
Niall scrunches up his face as if in deep thought before flashing Louis a radiant smile.
"Nialler, I know that look," Louis says with apprehension. “What plan that will cause me all kinds of hassle are you hatching now?"
Niall looks momentarily offended but quickly snaps out of it and looks at Louis with a self-satisfied grin. "I know just the person you're looking for."
"Oh, yeah?" Louis has skepticism written all over his face.
"It's my mate Harry from uni. He desperately needs a job, and this would be perfect for him." Niall is clearly aiming to sound persuasive.
"And does he have experience? Has he worked in a relevant field?"
Niall starts to squirm on his seat. "Not exactly, but I'm sure he will make a success of it. He's a good guy who just needs a bit of a leg up, and I can personally vouch for him.” After a pause, Niall continues, “Plus he’s dead fit. You’ll love ‘im."
"Niall, I don't operate a charitable organisation here. I have to run it by Nick, and I know he won’t agree to this," Louis says with an unreadable expression on his face.
Niall looks crestfallen, and Zayn feels the need to intervene. "It's your bloody gym. Nick shouldn't interfere in your staffing decisions," he says with more venom than he intended.
Louis' face clouds over, and Zayn already regrets opening his mouth.
"Well, Zayn, last time I checked, I was still the boss around here, and you should just get on with your job. Those towels are not gonna fold themselves," Louis retorts with a clipped tone as he shoves his hands into his pockets and heads for his office.
"Congratulations, you managed to piss off one of the nicest guys on the planet, probably cost my mate a job, and all that before 9 a.m.,” gripes Niall.
"I know," Zayn concedes. "I just get so annoyed with the whole Nick thing. I'll go now and apologise." With that he goes to follow his boss.
"Louis, I'm sorry…,” he starts as he pokes his head around the door.
"No, it's ok," Louis interrupts him, "I know you only want to help, but I just wanna come in here and get away from the drama at home, yeah?"
Louis sighs, gets up and pulls Zayn into a tight hug. Zayn wraps his arms around his friend, wishing he could do more for him. He's worth so much more, but he seems to have forgotten.
.....
The time before lunch is usually relatively quiet, so Zayn is surprised to hear loud voices approaching the door from outside. Seconds later, a raucous group of four appears at the reception desk. He looks up and his chest immediately tightens. He recognises Max George and Ben Winston straight away. Those two were classmates at uni and have always taken great pleasure in taunting him about his racial background, his religion and his sexuality. They are nasty pieces of work and Zayn knows he should just ignore them, but he feels distinctly sick to his stomach.
Ben's sneer reaches him as if from far away, "Hey, Malik, so this is where you’ve been hiding.” He laughs, but it isn’t friendly. “You like looking at all the fit guys, innit? Are you hanging around the showers too? Do they know that you’re perving, you little Muslim shit?" Zayn's blood starts draining from his face. He needs to pull himself together—'sticks and stones' and all that.
He takes a deep breath. "Do you need some help? I— I mean, what can I do for you?" he is able to croak.
"Help us?" Max cackles, "Help yourself and do some exercise; you could do with bulking up. I see you got some badass tats instead,” he taunts, putting sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘badass’. “Don't want everyone to see you for the puff that you are, do ya."
Zayn physically flinches away from the comment. He wants to retaliate and point out that maybe they should worry more about their pea-sized brains and their inability to finish a degree, but he just looks away. He's better than that.
"I just came for some info," says a velvety voice. Zayn notices the third guy for the first time. He stands there with a pretty blonde draped around him. Despite the unpleasant situation, Zayn can't help but notice that he is very good looking: Short brown quiff, soft dark brown eyes, attractive stubble and a chest that looks very inviting under the white tank top and leather jacket.
Zayn fears that he might be staring, but he manages a weak, "What do you want to know?"
"Do you have a steam room and a sauna?"
"No, neither."
"That's pretty crap then, isn't it," pipes the girl. "Come on, Payno, let's get out of this dump. Go to one of the ace gyms in town." She grabs his hand and turns away.
Payno shrugs her off. "Just give me a leaflet," he says, looking directly at Zayn.
Zayn shoves one towards him across the desk but doesn't let their eyes connect. He just wants them to leave.
"God, he's rude. Shall we show this faggot what he's missing, baby?" The girl, who has an annoying nasal tone to her voice, starts to kiss the guy passionately while she rubs his crotch. He puts his hand between her legs under her skirt. She lets out a vulgar moan, and Zayn thinks he might need to vomit.
When they break apart with an obscene slurping noise, she gives Zayn a sly suggestive smirk. Bitch…
"Anything else you want?" Zayn mutters while his eyes rest on the Payno guy's slick red lips. He has a plump set of them that Zayn very much would not mind nibbling on.
Get it together, he chides himself, but his dick has other ideas. As it starts fattening up in his trousers, he's never been so glad to be behind this counter.
"Well, if you're quite finished, would you mind leaving my premises before I inform the authorities that you’re disturbing the peace?" Louis' sharp voice comes from the hallway. He stands there with a condescending smile on his face, Niall and the other personal trainer, Josh, lurking behind him. Zayn breathes a sigh of relief.
Josh and Niall look like they are ready and willing to commit murder.
"Let's go," barks Payno as he crumples up the leaflet and throws it on the floor.
"Yeah, too many gays around here," says Max, and they finally leave—but not before they slam the door into the rattling frame. Zayn cringes but feels a weight lift off his chest.
"You ok?" The concern in Louis' voice is unmissable.
Zayn is already halfway out of the door. "Yeah, m'alright. I'll go for a quick smoke, if that's ok."
"I'll man the desk," Niall offers and Louis gives him a grateful slap on the back and Josh a thank you nod as he retreats to the office.
The cool air feels great on Zayn’s face, fresh and restorative. He leans against the wall, closing his eyes to shut out the world and all its problems for just a moment.
Big mistake… Immediately a pair of red wet lips appear before his inner eye, and Zayn has to press his palm against his lingering erection to get some relief. What the fuck? He is still burning with anger, but those eyes and those lips won't leave him alone, so now he’s feeling heated for quite a different reason. 'Payno,' the fucking prick, must be a new recruit to Max and Ben's little band of morons, and it’s a pity, really. Waste of a gorgeous bloke.
Admittedly it's been awhile since Zayn has been with anyone, and that’s likely the reason his cock is so eager, but he can't let the guys see him like this. He won't supplement lonely wanks in the shower with equally tragic ones against a wall. Sometimes he wishes he was into one night stands, but as it is, he is willing his dick into submission before he returns inside.
Niall and Louis are immersed in a heated discussion. "Can you not please just talk to him, and then you can still say no," Niall pleads, waving his hands in the air for effect.
Louis sighs and relents, "Oh, fine. I’ll talk to him. Send him round tomorrow, but I promise nothing."
Niall lets out a squeal, hugs Louis and fishes his phone out of his pocket, presumably to impart the good news to his friend.
The rest of the afternoon is uneventful until it's almost time for Zayn to go home. He has been playing Solitaire to pass the time and to take his mind off things.
"Erm, hey….”
Zayn freezes, there's that smooth voice again. He looks up cautiously from the PC and finds him standing there looking unsure.
"Come for more aggro?" Zayn spits.
"Just want another leaflet… I really do need to join a gym," the guy pleads.
"Didn't bring your entourage?" Zayn narrows his eyes.
"Those guys, they were just joking," says Payno, sounding like he doesn’t believe his own words.
Honestly? Zayn is about to say something sarcastic when he is distracted by Payno staring at his arms.
"Can I help you with anything else?"
"No, I— I just… Your ink is amazing."
What? Zayn's heart threatens to jump out of his chest.
He ignores what he's just heard. "If you want to join, you have to fill this in, and someone will ring you with an appointment for an induction." He sounds almost bored, good.
"Ok, what's your name?" Payno asks and tries to make eye contact. "Just so I can tell them who I've spoken to when I ring."
"Uh… Zayn, it's Zayn. Will that be all, PAYNO?" Why can't he leave already?
Payno shoots him a strange look and walks towards the exit. When he reaches it he stops, whispering, "Liam, my name is Liam,” and shuts the door quietly behind himself.
Zayn only stares after him, then lets his face fall into his hands.
"Ok then," Niall's voice drags Zayn back to the here and now; he parts his fingers and looks at his friend.
"How long have you been lurking there?"
Niall smirks, "Long enough, I just didn't want to interrupt your little moment there."
"There was no moment, you're talking out of your ass, Niall." Zayn rolls his eyes. Niall raises one eyebrow and returns to the pool with a small smile on his lips.
Zayn sinks back in his chair and rubs the stubble on his face. He really, really just wants to leave.
Eventually his shift ends. During the entire journey home, he keeps the day's events running through his mind, and the more he does it, the more Liam's image emerges, and with it the reappearance of Zayn's achingly hard dick.
Fuck sake… I only saw him for all of five minutes. He has to shake his head as he gets off the bus, trying to dislodge the troublesome thoughts. Walking on, he thinks about song lyrics, his to-do list—anything to forget about the disturbingly good looking guy who sent him a lot of mixed messages and then left him turned on and confused.
Zayn lives in a tiny flat above Ed's Newsagent. Ed is popping his head full of strikingly red hair out of the shop door when he sees Zayn.
"Got time for a brew?" he asks, beaming.
"No, sorry, Ed, not today. Shuri will be expecting her dinner. I'll catch you tomorrow,” he says with a wave.
Zayn feels bad, but he needs to get home. His cat, Shuri, rubs against his legs as soon as he gets through the door. He picks her up and moves her unceremoniously out of his way. She runs off with an indignant yelp.
Zayn flops down on the sofa and his hand reaches down immediately to free his erection. Mmm…, he moans. He doesn't bother to take his jeans off, just undoes his zip so his throbbing head is out. All it takes is a few rough and desperate strokes. 'Liam' escapes from his lips as he comes into his fist.
After a guilty shower and something to eat for him and Shuri, he curls up in his bed. This was never supposed to happen again. Wanking over a straight guy… Not again! Zayn hasn't felt this pathetic for a long time, if ever. After a lot of tossing and turning, he finally falls into a restless sleep.