Wanna Be Loved

Liam was never good at being single. How could he have been? Most of his teen years, though cute, he’d been awkward. He was the the weird kid that was constantly singing to himself in the boy’s loo at school. He’d asked a girl out so many times, she’d finally said yes out of pity, then called it off. He was just... strange. His sisters, bless them, reassured him that he’d grow up one day and grow out of that weird limbo between boy and man and then they’d have to beat girls off with a stick. They’d been right.

His first audition to X Factor had been, in a word, disastrous. He could sing, he really could, but Simon just felt like it wasn’t the time. Liam still had growing up to do. Determined as ever, Liam returned to Wolverhampton and honed his God given talent until he could return, look Simon dead in the eye and proudly proclaim, “I’m back.” And he’d made it through - he was a contestant and his dreams were finally coming true.

With that, came an almost unexpected perk - female attention. It was a rather foreign concept to him, though his sisters were never shy about reminding him that they’d said this would happen. He enjoyed the flirting, though he felt bloody awful at it, and he enjoyed the feeling of being wanted, desired. But, at his core, Liam was a relationship kind of guy. He liked monogamy and stability and having that one special girl whom he could call his own. As luck would have it, he found her, right there on X Factor.

Danielle was older than he was, but Liam was mature for his age anyway. They hit it off straight away and a friendship quickly blossomed into Liam’s first real love. From the outside, people probably assumed, rightfully so, that it wouldn’t last as long as either party expected. It was puppy love, plain and simple. But while caught up in it, that didn’t matter to Liam. He was content and remained so for several years. Even whilst the rest of his life was in constant motion, Danielle was his anchor. She’d never let him float away.

Then, it ended. Quite abruptly, actually. Liam had been blind-sided. Hadn’t Danielle been happy? Hadn’t she loved him? She’d said so, but she also said that she just couldn’t bear the spotlight any longer, nor did she want to deal with the ever growing fanbase that would love nothing more than to tear her to shreds. He was broken. A hollow, vacant shell of who he once was. He’d let Andy talk him into expanding his horizons a bit. They frequented Funky Buddha and Liam got to let his hair down. He was finally shedding that Daddy Direction moniker he’d always hated.

However, when Sophia came along, he was more than happy to jump the single ship and cruise off into the sunset with a new lady friend. That was just how he operated. Single Liam was a myth, a complete façade. He just didn’t feel like himself without someone special hanging off his arm. For as much chaos as his life had endured over the few short years of being one fifth of the biggest boy band ever, he craved solid ground. Awkward, teenaged Liam became Danielle’s Liam who then became Sophia’s Liam. As long as he belonged to somebody, he was okay.

But the endless pressure of being with someone so in the public eye soon became too much for Sophia, too, and Liam was alone again. He moped for days, weeks, even. Some nights he could clean himself up, drag himself down to Funky Buddha, have a little bit to drink, make it seem like he was having a good time. But come two am, he’d catch a cab home, shed his clothes on his way up the stairs, then collapse face first on top of the duvet and stay there til morning. On days he had obligations to the band, the only thing that got him up were phone calls from his band mates, his brothers.

“Yeah?” He grumbled into his mobile, face still pressed uncomfortably against his pillow, a wet spot forming against his cheek.

“Hey, mate. We have that commercial shoot today. You up for it?”

“Have to be, don’t I?”

Zayn sighed on the other end, at a loss as to how to cheer up his friend. “We could grab lunch, yeah? Just some coffee if you’re not hungry.”

“Sure. Meet you there in fifteen.”

He didn’t wait for a confirmation, just hung up, dropping his mobile to the floor with a soft thud. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sun streaming through his open drapes - he hadn’t bothered closing them when he’d gotten home last night. He heaved himself up with a series of grunts and groans, twisting his torso until his back popped and the tension melted away. He didn’t bother with a shower - they’d clean him up before the shoot - and just changed out his club clothes for a pair of joggers and an old tee.

Loki looked up at him from his little dog bed in the lounge when he came bounding down the stairs. As much as Liam loved the little creature, it still hurt to look at him sometimes. It reminded him of Danielle. That’s why he mostly stayed with his sisters or at Zayn’s, though Liam always found himself feeling guilty and neglectful and would collect the little bundle of fur and bring him home. He pat the pup’s head, slipping on sunglasses and a snapback before venturing outside.

Zayn was waiting on him, two coffees already on the tiny cafe table. Liam graciously accepted his and took a large gulp before feeling his friend’s eyes on him. He sighed, giving Zayn a pointed look that said everything it needed to say. Yes, he looked horrible, like someone had beat him against an old rock like laundry in the old days, then wrung him out and left him to dry, disheveled and in a disarray. He didn’t care. Zayn took the hint and dropped his caramel colored orbs to the coffee in his own hands. And that was it - silence for the entire ten minutes it took to finish their beverages and be on their way.

To their credit, the boys tried not to show him pity when he and Zayn popped into the studio. They greeted him warmly, slapped him on the back, teased and joked around like nothing was wrong at all. It made him feel a little better. He sat with Niall for a bit, awaiting their turn in the make up chair. Lou was off that day, spending time with Tom and Lux, so there was a new girl working with them that morning. Short, blonde, and Niall hadn’t been shy about expressing how fit he found her with her pretty eyes and nose ring. Liam, though, was only half listening.

Harry replaced him a short while later, nudging Liam’s shoulder with his. “You okay?” It was quiet, like a secret, but that was Harry. Always concerned. Always checking up on them, even if he was the baby.

“‘m fine, Haz.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t fucking fine. But Harry just had to push it. Bless him, though. It was only with good intentions that he was pushing Liam a little harder today than usual. “I’ll be fine, better?” Liam asked, letting his head roll to his right shoulder, giving Harry the most convincing look he could muster. His green eyes softened and a slight smile crossed his lips. It wasn’t the best answer, but he’d take it.

“Liam?” A new voice - a feminine one - called out to him. He looked up and there was that make up girl, a hesitant but warm smile in place, a suggestion in her gaze. “You’re up, kid.”

He stood, crossing over to the chair where he collapsed without the slightest bit of grace. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that thrilled about the new advert nor the new perfume because, in all actuality, it was basically the exact same thing, only in a slightly different bottle. Marketing and merchandise was one end of the business he would rather stay completely out of. It was pointless, really, and he didn’t like taking these young girls’ money. But, what could he do? It was part of the deal.

“You look like hell.”

The statement stunned him and his jaw slackened a bit. “I- I’m sorry?”

“You look like hell. What did you do? Fight in a zombie apocalypse overnight?” She was touching his face, mussing his hair, all while tutting. “Dark circles, huge bags, pale, listless. Maybe you’re the zombie, yeah?” She laughed, light and musical, then turned to her supply of powders, creams, brushes.

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

“I can tell.” She grasped his chin, smearing a bit of moisturizer on his face. “It’s okay. We can make you look presentable. I’m a wizard, y’know?”

She’d said it with such an air of confidence that he cracked a grin. If anything, she slightly resembled a pixie - all cute and bubbly, flitting about him in the chair, morphing him into something resembling human. He only watched. He studied the little worry lines that crinkled her forehead and the way she tongued the crease of her lip in concentration. Every so often, she’d stand back a few paces to admire her work, give a proud little smile and then continue. He could have stayed in that chair all day with her making over him like that.

After she was done, she held a mirror up for him to see. The transformation was impeccable. All traces of sorrow and cynicism were gone and he looked like the happy-go-lucky Liam everyone adored. She was pleased as punch, congratulating herself with a puff of pride and a pat on the back. She’d even mentioned that perhaps a Nobel Prize were in order. All of which he found delightfully charming. Had he been paying closer attention, he’d realize how quickly smitten he was becoming with the young girl. His band mates had certainly taken note.

The shoot was fun, all the boys had to admit. Whomever had found this loon with the crazy French accent was good. He’d had all them laughing and the footage that came out of it was representative of the true One Direction. They were packing up when Harry approached Liam for the second time, only now his look of concern was replaced with the cheeky, dimpled grin Styles was known for. Liam chuckled, and braced himself for whatever was about to come out of Harry’s mouth.

“So, uh, the new girl, yeah?”

“What about her?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You like her, you knob. We all saw you making eyes at her. First time we’ve seen you laugh in weeks. You should ask her out.”

“What would that accomplish?”

“Jesus Christ, Liam. Does everything have to have such a deep, underlying purpose?” His words were harsh, but he’d meant it in the kindest way possible. “Just go out, have fun, stop trying to micromanage every detail of your life. If nothing else, at least you got to spend the evening with a pretty girl.”

“What makes you think she wants me to ask her out?”

“Because she’s been packed for ten minutes, yet is lingering just outside,” Harry smirked, nodding his head her way. Indeed, her bag was slung over her shoulder, her case gripped in her right hand, but she stood just outside the studio, waiting. “If you don’t do it, I’m doing it.”

“Yeah, okay, Haz.” Liam started towards the door, Harry on his heels, pestering him until they were within earshot, to which he quickly zipped his lip. He stood back a few yards, hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his heels whilst giving Liam a challenging look. Do it, Payno. Do it.

“Uh, hey.” Liam spoke, startling her. He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there something you need?”

“Oh, I just... alright, I’m just gonna say it. Do you wanna get a drink?”

Liam was taken aback. This girl was forward, blunt even. But it worked for her. He liked that little fire in her spirit behind the prim, pink lips, hazel eyes, and light blonde hair. She wasn’t really his type, per se, but in that moment, that was exactly what he needed. A break away. So, he agreed and the two left, ignoring Harry’s cat calls as they exited the building and went straight to her car. He waited while she placed her things in the trunk, then she smirked at him, nodding to the passenger door.

“Hope you don’t mind that I drive.”

“Not at all,” he smiled, sliding in beside her. She fidgeted with the radio a bit, before settling on an alternative station that happened to be playing Pierce The Veil. He watched, bemused, as she pulled into traffic, humming along, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he kept comparing her to Danielle and Sophia. She was open, certainly candid, completely confident in herself, exuding positive vibes. She was wholly different and he was drawn to her, moth to flame, only this time, there was no fear of getting burnt.

“Oh!” She slammed on the breaks, her eyes flying to his. “I totally didn’t tell you my name, did I? God, how daft am I? It’s Haley.”

He laughed. “It’s nice to be properly introduced. I’m-”

“Oh, pft. Like I don’t know who you are,” she scoffed, easing off the break as the light turned green. “I mean, that’s not why I asked you out! I’m not like that, I assure you. I just thought you could use a friend.”

“It’s much appreciated, believe me.”

She smiled at him, making an abrupt turn down a side street to a shady looking little tavern. There were all of three cars in the lot, but she bounded out of the car and towards the door without hesitation, so he followed. Inside, she was greeted by the man tending the bar, who immediately reached down a bottle of Jack Daniels and filled a glass with ice. She looked to Liam, who ordered a simple beer, then the two sat on the stools.

Haley quickly fell into an easy conversation, talking Liam’s ear off about this and that. None of it mattered much and some of it he just outright had no clue what she was talking about. But he didn’t care. Her voice was everything he needed. That, and the frosty beer clasped in his hand. They talked for at least an hour, enjoying a second and third drink between them. Haley had sung along to the radio at moments, poking Liam’s ribs until he joined in because she just insisted that he knew the words. Which, he did, and it was fun and silly and stupid and perfect. There were no guarantees with this girl - he knew that. So, he didn’t have to worry about all the little things that could and would go wrong. He just let himself be.

“Do you know how to play billiards?” Haley asked, crunching an ice cube between her perfect teeth. He had to tear his eyes away from her mouth for all the unsavory things his intoxicated mind was allowing him to imagine. He swallowed, willing his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth, for his lips to form an answer as she waited expectantly. Finally, a croak; not even a word, but it was enough. With a giggle, she drug him over to the nearest table, tossing a stick at him.

He barely caught it. It flipped over his elbow, nearly nailing some guy in the back of the head, wiped a line of blue chalk across his cheek, before he finally wrestled it into submission against his chest. She was howling with laughter at this point and he couldn’t help but join in. She chalked her cue, then began to throw the tiny square at him before a fire lit in her eyes and she simply placed it in his palm with a wicked grin. He gave her a rueful look, but she giggled, patting his chest before racking up the balls. She took first shot, sinking two solids straight away.

“Wow.” It was all he could think of and it came out sounding dull. He blushed, but she smiled at him, lining up her next shot. She was brilliant, for sure, while he had managed to get his ball airborne, sending it flying across the scuffed hardwood and under a nearby table. “Right... well.”

“Don’t worry, slugger.” She retrieved the ball, placing it back on the table. “Let me teach you.”

It was like all those cliché rom-coms Danielle had made him watch, only in reverse. Instead of him standing behind Haley, squaring her shoulders, steadying her hips, breathing encouragement down her neck, she was the one in control. It was probably comical to those looking on - this tiny little faerie of a girl moving him into proper stance to take out the striped eleven ball near the right corner pocket. But to him, it was intensely intimate. She was warm, her lithe body all cozied up against his back, her breasts pressed right up against the back of his ribs. Her slender knee had wedged itself between his thighs and her hands were on his, making his fingers tremble.

Courage, dear heart.

“Aim for the number - that’s the key. Too low, the ball tips up. Too high, you pierce the table. Just smack dab center, a little tap, and...” She trailed off as the cue ball smoothed over the green surface and gently coaxed his ball right into the pocket. “Piece of cake, eh?” She grinned, patting his bum as she moved around the table, searching for his next shot.

“Yeah,” he breathed, feeling his heart flutter just the slightest bit.

She won, obviously, which meant that drinks were on him. Not that that was a big deal. Their tab was barely thirty pounds and to him, that was mere pocket change. After he paid, she looped her arm through his, leading the way back to her beat up old Toyota. She was telling him some sort of joke, really the only part he’d understood was penguins and something about knees, she was giggling too much to get it out properly, but the street lamp glowing down on her from above, and the little snort when she laughed too hard, he couldn’t help himself.

Swiftly, she was pressed to the side of the car, his large hands cupping her face, his lips covering hers. It hadn’t even registered to him that he was kissing her before she was kissing him back. Her tiny hands fisted his tee, her tongue darting between his parted lips for the briefest of moments. She tasted like Jack and Coke and mint lip balm and it should have been strange, but he loved it. Her lips were so warm and giving, fusing to his own while a little hum of appreciation sounded in the back of her throat. Unlike before, back at the pool table, he squeezed his knee between her thighs, bracing it against the cool metal of her car and it was a good three minutes before they broke away, gasping for air.

“And to think, I thought I was going to have to keep making all the moves,” she teased. He grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. “So, what now?”

Liam thought for a moment. What now? He had no idea. He’d never been the one night stand type. He’d never even been the sleep with a girl on a first date type. Was this even a date? God, he was confused. And slightly drunk. All he wanted was to keep kissing her. He wanted to kiss her until his lungs physically caved from lack of oxygen. He wanted to kiss her until his lips were so bruised it’d look like he’d taken a fist to the face. He wanted the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her in his arms. He wanted that sense of belonging that he’d been missing.

“Your place or mine?” The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. She cracked a sly smile, tugging at the hem of his tee.

“My place is probably less conspicuous.”

They scrambled for the car, laughing as Liam got tangled up in his safety belt, hitting his head on the low roof of the car. She pulled him down, pressing a gentle kiss to the small lump before throwing the car in reverse, taking quick, back routes to her flat. Out of the car, they raced to the front stoop, waiting as she fit the key into the lock that let them into the building. Her apartment was on the second floor and the heavy wooden door no sooner met it’s threshold then she was on him again. He had to admit, her fervor was contagious. It was like he was fifteen and making out in the basement, knowing full well her parents could catch them at any moment.

After stumbling to the couch, he kicked off his boots, climbing on top of her. His mouth claimed hers again hungrily and she wasn’t at all shy about groping him as they made out right there in her living room. He may have been young, still technically growing into the man he would be, but there was no shortage of taut, sinewy muscle beneath her palms. His biceps flexed as he supported his weight above her; one elbow resting beside her head, the other hand free to roam.

His torso was a hard plane between her hips and she found herself arching just to be nearer to him. His tee was gone fairly quickly and she took a long minute to admire his body. Her gaze was so intensely focused on him as delicate fingertips brushed along his pecs, down the line to his navel, then traveled his directional muscles that disappeared into his shorts. His teeth were sunk so hard into his bottom lip that he could begin to taste the blood. She was just in awe.

“You’re beautiful,” she muttered, looking up at him from under her lashes. The hint of pink across her cheeks caused a chuckle to rumble in his chest. She looked worried, “What?”

“Nothing, I just... you’re beautiful, too.”

“You haven’t even seen the good stuff yet.” She winked at him, unbuttoning the blouse she’d been wearing. Underneath was a simple, white lace bra. It was so innocent, but so unbelievably sexy. She reached behind her, unclasping it, then pulled the straps free and dropped it to the floor, all while watching his eyes darken, his pupils dilate. His tongue darted out out to wet his lips and she pulled his face down to the slope of her neck. “Go on,” she encouraged, though it was not needed. Not in the least bit.

He kissed her skin, tasting the salt from her pores, but also the slight fruity essence of her perfume. His tongue and teeth made work of her pretty, pale skin while her mewls and sighs egged him to go further. From her throat, over each collar bone, to the valley between her breasts, until finally he took one taut nipple between his teeth, flicking his tongue against it. She gasped loudly, her slender fingers grasping at the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Below, he ground his hips into hers, earning another sharp breath and a slight moan. He paused, breathing heavily into her neck a moment.

“I want you,” he told her, honestly, earnestly. She nodded, cradling his head.

“I know.”

He closed his eyes, turning to trace her jaw with his lower lip, then pressed a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her cool hands slid over his back and shoulders until she could cup his face. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes gave him the permission he sought and he crushed his lips to hers again, letting his hands skim her waist to undo the denim shorts she was wearing. They, along with her tights, were discarded, leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of boyshorts that matched the bra he’d already gotten rid of. In the center, just below her navel, was a tiny yellow bow that matched the flecks of gold in her eyes.

With his weight held above her, he watched as she carefully shimmied out of them, then used nimble fingers to rid him of the worn out joggers he’d grabbed from his bedroom floor that morning. Then there was nothing left between them. She wound her leg around his calf, pulling him in close, her palm smooth against his hip as she slowly pulled them together. Bursts of color sprung to life behind his eyes at the feeling of her body molding to fit him. He could hear her whimpering, her fingertips digging into his hip just a little, but she wriggled her hips, completely enveloping him in the most intense velvet heat.

“Haley.” His breath fanned over her lips and she murmured in response, nudging his nose until he kissed her. That kiss was everything. Soft and warm; breathing the life into him that he’d lost, heating him from his core to each outside nerve ending. He moved, gently at first, simply rocking his pelvis against hers. To an onlooker, it was probably undetectable, but to the two of them, it was plenty. She grasped his shoulders, pulling his chest flush to hers, then smoothed her hands down the ridge of his spine, dipping into the space between each vertebrae until he shivered above her. With a soft giggle, she lay back to look up into his dark eyes, while he drank her in.

Those lips that were sending his heart into crazy palpitations were a most vibrant red color. It looked as though she were wearing rouge, though he knew it was from all their heated kissing. That beautiful blush extended down her slender neck, across her collar bones, to her chest that heaved with anticipatory breaths. He smiled at her, dropping his head to nuzzle against her, pulling his hips back before snapping them to hers again. A choked moan echoed off the walls and her hand flew to the back of his head while the other grabbed the back of the couch. Her knuckles were turning white, her fist tightening around the plush cushion as he continued to thrust into her. Her eyes were screwed so tightly shut, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. It all just felt too good.

Being with Haley was euphoric, numbing almost. Though every cell in his body seemed to be responding to her, he felt weightless, not even in his own body, an entity separate from himself. It was like being suspended above them, the two lovers tangled together on her old couch, watching as he showered her skin with open mouthed kisses, while her fingernails left behind thin, red lines that spanned his entire back. Her legs wound around his waist, locking him in, keeping him as close as she could possibly get him. Even being buried snugly inside her wasn’t nearly close enough. But with just a final flick of his hips, everything stopped, his vision going completely white as all sound ceased.

The first thing that registered was her coming undone around him. The literal tremble in her body, echoed in her most private of places, was almost enough to send him into a second release. Every part of her clung to every part of him. He could feel her hands, desperately trying to get a grip on his slick skin. Her legs, shaking and weak, refusing to drop from his hips. And her voice, distorted and raw as it called his name over and over; a mantra that matched the beat of her heart against his torso, the answer of his own heart beating just a breath after hers. It was several minutes before either moved or spoke. Even then, both were cautious, afraid to break the bubble they’d created for themselves.

Liam, ever the gentleman, gathered her underwear, then offered her his own tee to cover up, leaving him with just his boxer briefs. After they’d dressed, they looked at each other for a moment before smiling, a shy chuckle coming from Liam as he settled back into the couch, opening his arms for her. She happily drew close to him again, nuzzling her face into the slope of his shoulder, leaving the tiniest kiss against his collar bone while her fingertips traced patters across his bare chest. It was comfortable, like they’d done this countless times before and it was easy to settle back into this natural state of being, just the two of them.

And it would be a natural state, though neither knew in that moment, but they’d find themselves in this exact position nearly every evening. Even when Liam was away on tour, they’d Skype, Haley snuggled up on that couch in one of his flannels, while he tried to make do with his bunk or whatever hotel room he was calling home for the night, and they’d watch each other, no words needed, until both fell asleep. Because Single Liam was never meant to last, and he only needed find Single Haley before neither had to be Single ever again.