“Dance with me,” Liam requests lowly, leaning down a bit so the still-sitting boy can hear him over the loud music.
Flipping his head to get a good look at the voice, Zayn ponders his words for a moment. Looking over the sharp jawline that leads to the man's plush lips and thick beard, he wants to say yes, really he does, but he’s just met the guy. And while his racing heart and dry throat remind him that his body isn’t really worried about that, he has principles. Even though the fit man giving a slight pout and Bambi eyes right next to him definitely makes him consider throwing his normal rules out the window.
“Why don’t you buy me a drink first?” Zayn asks coyly, blinking his eyelashes a few times in a way he knows will work on the boy.
Liam bites his lip, momentarily distracted by--yes--Zayn’s fluttering eyelashes. “Okay, drink first, dance next, then.” He grins at him, not allowing a response before he continues, “What do you want?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
A few minutes later, Liam’s returned with two rum and cokes, sliding one over to the boy next to him as he introduces himself. After Zayn takes one small sip, savoring the slightly tart flavor, he starts, "So, Liam, did you say? Tell me about yourself.”
—
Liam’s halfway through some sort of Batman joke (which Zayn is more endeared by than he should be, he supposes) when the announcer calls his name. He blinks at the words, seemingly surprised, but then a smile breaks on his face. “Be right back, babe.” He offers a wink before he saunters onto the stage, not taking one look back.
Zayn knows exactly what song it is as the first couple of tinny notes play out from the karaoke machine. He groans.
“Baby, I like your style,” he begins, doing his best to emulate the almost-rap like singing of Drake. Zayn keeps his eyes on Liam, watching as he takes over the stage. His confidence is almost contagious, his seeming comfort radiating through the whole bar. And why shouldn’t he be comfortable and confident? His voice is one of the best Zayn’s ever heard, his range sliding up and down as much as the song allows, his tone rich and resonant.
Then, he gets to the chorus. Zayn always knew it was coming, but he still flushes as Liam’s eyes train on him. “That’s why I need a one dance, got the Hennessy in my hand.” He lifts up the drink he’s still holding, swaying his hips to the beat as his eyes twinkle against the stage lights.
He continues on through the song, playing up the crowd but always bringing his attention back on Zayn as he moves into the chorus again. When he finishes, he bows his head slightly, looking almost shy as he scampers off stage.
When he goes to sit back in his seat, he’s surprised to find that Zayn is gone. He panics just slightly, heart squeezing in his chest as he worries that Zayn made a run for it, leaving him alone.
His breathing calms when he catches Zayn’s figure, leaning over to whisper to the announcer. The announcer gives a small nod before he’s announcing Zayn’s name.
Did he just–
Zayn makes his way on stage, grinning as he shifts the microphone from one hand to the other.
Yeah, he did.
The music starts, a slower sort of pop song, and then Zayn sings lowly, “When I was just a little boy, my mama used to tuck me in bed.”
The song seems strangely familiar, but he can’t place it. Until he’s at the chorus.
“I don’t wanna be like Cinderella, sitting in a dark, cold, dusty cellar.” He gives a pointed look at Liam before he goes on. “Waiting for somebody to come and set me free.” Liam bites back a smile, a growing fondness enveloping him as the Cheetah Girls song continues.
Zayn keeps going, unbothered by any of Liam’s reactions. “I don’t wanna be like someone waiting for a handsome prince to come and save me.” He continues singing, soulfully adding riffs anywhere he can.
“Showoff,” Liam mumbles, but there’s a hint of a grin behind his words.
When he heads off the stage, oozing a sort of sexy confidence that Liam admits he wants to explore further, he slowly makes his way back to Liam. “That was incredible,” he says to Zayn, giving him an appreciative nod.
“You too,” he responds genuinely as he sits back down next to the boy. "You went and signed yourself up when you got our drinks, huh?" Zayn asks, amused.
Liam hums in agreement, seemingly pleased with himself. "I mean, there’s a reason I normally choose to frequent karaoke bars.” He raises his eyebrows. “And I assume you’re the same.”
Zayn nods a little shyly, lips upturning just slightly.
There’s unspoken words between them, their little musical back and forth hanging over the two of them. “Also.” Liam clears his throat. “I promise I’m not trying to–” He pauses. “How did you say it? ‘Come and set you free.’” Raising his drink to take a sip, he finishes into his glass, “I just wanna dance with you. Doesn’t have to be anything if you don’t want it to be.” He sets down his drink to look down at the table before he posits, “I won’t make you, though, either, if you don’t want to.”
Zayn takes the last few sips of his drink before suddenly nodding. Liam looks up at this, his nerves draining out his body as he hears Zayn chuckle. And he hasn't tried to leave yet. That's a good sign. "Well, I finished my drink. And my rule has always been, have a drink with the guy first.” He looks almost shy. “If he doesn’t strike you as a complete bastard, then say yes to the dance and see where it goes from there.”
Liam laughs at this as he moves to stand up. “Do you normally tell your suitors your rules?”
“No,” Zayn confesses. “But you seem different. I trust you.”
Liam’s grin widens at this, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes at the admission. “So I’m not a complete bastard. Score one for me,” he teases. “Was it the Batman joke? It was, wasn’t it?”
Zayn’s head falls back in laughter, nose scrunching up at the words. “I don’t know, I haven’t heard the rest.”
Extending a hand to a seated Zayn, he promises, “I’ll tell you the rest during our dance, then. If it’s good enough, maybe you could give me a second dance?”
Lips quirking up as he grabs Liam’s hand, he replies tauntingly, “You better blow me away with that joke, then.”