Chapter Text
Things were easy the morning they left, piling up their luggage into the back of a cab and driving quietly through the early morning streets. They seemed better, closer somehow even though Niall spent most of the morning double-taking at Zayn and his new appearance. It was a good change though, one that Niall indulged in specifically when he was pushing that shaved head down on his cock just after they'd hopped out the shower that morning.
So he was most certainly a fan.
Niall was twisting his phone in his hand, awaiting his mother's reply to his text letting her know he was coming home early. He hadn't said why, hadn't even mentioned Zayn.
He did feel guilty about that, though. He knew he should have perhaps said at the very least something. Should have warned them to the fact he was bringing home a boyfriend without ever explicitly telling his parents in so many words that he was into dudes. It's not that it would be an issue, he was positive it wouldn't. He knew his parents and knew they weren't like many of the other rich families from their community but still, he couldn't help but feel something that felt an awful lot like nerves twist uncomfortably in his belly.
He wondered if it was too late to cancel the flights or to text his mother and say something came up. Just as he was toying with the idea Zayn's hand reached out and stilled his nervous jittery movements causing their gazes to meet.
“If you carry on shaking like a shittin' dog I'm gonna have a fuckin' panic attack. Can you calm down please babe?” Zayn said, voice a little strained and Niall sighed out. He shifted closer to his boyfriend nuzzling against his neck as Zayn squeezed their hands together.
“I'm sorry. I always get nervous going home.” It wasn't exactly a lie. He did get nervous returning to Mullingar. During his first year of Uni he would feel like the whole town was looking at him like he abandoned his family. That he flipped his wealth the bird and fucked off from the family tradition of staying in Ireland. This time he wondered how paranoid the stares would send him as he walked down the streets hand in hand with a mysterious Asian man.
“I get that. Last time I visited my Mum was longer ago than I'd like to admit.” Zayn said, the street-lamp's glow passing over him in orange spotlights as they drove by.
“Circumstances though, Z.”
“Yeah that and that I can be a bit of a twat sometimes.” He laughed out weakly, a hand reaching up to track through his black hair only to find it all gone. He flexed his fingers for a minute or two before deciding to drop his hand on Niall's thigh.
“You're my twat though.” The blonde said playfully, looking at him through his lashes.
“Yeah yeah.” Zayn laughed placing three kisses in quick succession against Niall's waiting mouth who relaxed back into the seat, eyes drifting to the passing scenery with a more relaxed posture.
Niall loved airports. He was never a massive fan of travelling but once he was there, pulling his suitcase behind him and looking up at the Arrival/Departure board he found that the nerves twisted into a new form of excitement.
Zayn didn't seem so bad, had his large bag over his shoulder as he followed Niall around rather like a lost puppy as they meandered through people, walking across the shining white tiles of the floor and through the several stages of check-ins before sitting together and facing the large windows showing the runway.
Zayn's eyes had lit up the first time he'd seen a plane, child-like wonder following him all the way to the window where he stood with a baffled little grin on his face, watching the jumbo jet turn gracefully. He threw a smile at Niall when he sat back down, hands immediately finding one of Niall's who naturally squeezed back.
It wasn't too long until they were boarding onto the plane themselves, hand in hand and walking up the aisle with Niall navigating their seats for them. He found them soon enough and gestured for his boyfriend to climb in first. Zayn shot him a bewildered look at the window seat presented to him just as Niall rolled his eyes.
“First time I went on a plane, I felt well claustrophobic. You'll feel better seeing empty space I promise.” He insisted, gesturing again for Zayn who shuffled down until they were both sat down and adjusting their hand luggage and seat belts.
“I'm getting nervous now.” Zayn admitted, sitting folded in on himself, a faint pink blushing across his high cheekbones and Niall found it equal parts cute and beautiful.
“Yeah watch about ten minutes in, some pilots tend to do a loop-the-loop.” The look Zayn threw his way was nothing short of venomous as he maintained his hunched posture, hands clutching at the arm rests.
“Fuck off.” He hissed in reply and Niall just snorted, reaching into his bag for his I-pad, one hand flicking through his saved documents and the other tracking lines over Zayn's knee.
“It'll be fine baby.” He said easily, and the more he read through his Uni notes, the more he noticed Zayn's leg stop with it's twitching beneath his hand.
The thief was better during take off than Niall expected, just clamped his eyes shut and squeezed Niall's hand as that familiar swoop soared them into flight and Niall rewarded him with a gentle kiss for his bravery when they were flying and Zayn let out a sigh of relief.
If Zayn gripped Niall's hand a little tightly about ten minutes in well, Niall didn't say anything. The rest of the flight was a breeze, the low rumble of the engine hardly noticeable as he indulged in re-reading some Uni notes. Zayn seemed fine after fifteen minutes, relaxing into his seat and turning into a five year old. Suddenly everything was interesting, the foldable tray on the back of the seat in front of him, the buttons overhead controlling the lights and air con being pressed just to be turned back off.
“You're so feckin' cute.” Niall mumbled, Zayn rounding on him, fingers still holding at the window shutter, half the light blocked out as he turned to the blonde then. “I don't even feel like a twat for sayin”
“I'm not cute.” Zayn said, adjusting the hem of his large jumper as he turned to face Niall, their knees bumping and their foreheads just an inch apart. “I'm manly and you should fear me.” He finished in the most adorable high-pitched baby voice Niall had legit ever heard in his life.
“Manliest man I've ever known.” Niall sang in a similar voice just to have Zayn pinch his cheek and kiss him softly. It wasn't until they both settled down to do their own thing, with their fingers intertwined that Niall even considered that they'd perhaps reached the 'Harry-and-Louis-Baby-Voice' stage of their relationship.
When they finally touched down in Dublin, Niall felt like he was home. The air felt different somehow, as he got his luggage and directed Zayn towards the doors ahead of them. He felt like he couldn't get back to the Estate quick enough now, his bones vibrating with excitement on seeing his mother or playing with the dogs on the east wing. He couldn't escape the feeling of happiness that seeped from his heart and seemed to fill his veins like substitute blood.
They reached a line of people outside, holding up names and Zayn couldn't help but laugh, muttering how he thought that stupid shit only happened in Movies. Niall was laughing too, until his heart dropped as he read his own name on a card towards the end of the queue, his familiar family chauffeur beaming back at him.
“Oh Jesus.” Niall muttered, dragging his suitcase behind him and walking towards the sign. He probably should have expected that his mother would send a chauffeur, she tended to do that when he came to visit but a part of him hoped it wouldn't come to that.
“Welcome back Mr Niall.” Paul said with a smile, reaching for Niall's suitcase and Zayn's bag who looked completely taken a back, eyes switching from the driver now at the boot of the car and back to the blonde who smiled weakly.
“Does this guy work for you?”
“Easy there sir, don't give him any ideas. I work for his father.” Paul winked opening the back door and gesturing for the two boys to climb in. Niall prayed it wasn't going to be one of the more lavish Rolls Royces but he was pretty down on his luck so far. So it was unsurprising when he got in to find there had been champagne set up between the plush leather seats.
The door shut behind Zayn and his eyes batted from the empty flutes between them to the shimmering partition only partially done up to reveal Paul strapping himself in the front seat.
“On to Carrickwood we go.” Paul said happily, pulling out from the spot as Niall stared at his hands, wondering when Zayn would crack the silence. Niall didn't want to intimidate Zayn, had hoped he could ease him in to just how wealthy his family were, the last thing he wanted was for any form of discomfort to settle inside Zayn who still wasn't saying anything.
But then he couldn't exactly blame Zayn if he didn't want to see this cushy life, Niall couldn't even begin to list the differences between Zayn's old studio flat and Carrickwood Estate, they were just too vast.
Niall sighed, gaining his boyfriend's attention.
“I didn't know when I text my Mum that she'd send Paul.” He said sheepishly, wringing his fingers on his lap as he looked to the blacked out windows, watching the streets blur past beside them. Zayn didn't move much beside him, just did a blase shrug before sighing himself.
“No, it's fine. It's a nice gesture ennit?”
“Yeah I guess.” Niall agreed, looking towards the theif who was smiling at him softly.
“So what's the problem?” Zayn twisted himself to face him, huffing out a short laugh as he prodded at the bottle between them.
“Nothing, you're not... mad?” He tested, half-expecting the silent treatment and feeling pleasantly surprised when Zayn's face scrunched up in confusion.
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“Because I don't wanna feel like some snobby little rich boy throwing my money in your face.”
“I wouldn't mind if you started throwing money in my face.” Zayn mumbled, Niall rolling his eyes and reaching over to twine his fingers between his boyfriend's.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah I do. And don't worry. One little chauffeur isn't gonna freak me out ok?” Zayn bought Niall's fist up to his mouth to press delicate kisses across his knuckles. Niall couldn't help but smile at the feeling and soon enough he was nodding at Zayn's words. “Good, now let's get as fucked as we can on champagne. Haven't ever tried it before.”
“What? They don't hand this stuff out by the bottle when you move into a low rent studio flat?” He laughed uncapping the champagne and laughing as Zayn shifted from the cork's path. He poured it into two glasses, Zayn snatching one up and inspecting it casually.
“I must have missed that give-away.” He smirked before taking a long gulp that left him spluttering and Niall cackiling until his heart didn't feel so heavy anymore.
But of course the “not freaking out” thing didn't last too long, the more they drove from the city and the further down the bottle of champagne they got, the more questions Zayn began to ask, until he sat back in silence watching as two grand gates opened and they began the long drive up towards the estate of Niall's childhood home.
Soon enough Niall's house came into sight, the car rumbiling as it drove over the soft white gravel driveway and Zayn shifted nervously as they parked up beneath the large oak tree beside the garage.
“Holy fuck!” Zayn whispered, eyes wide and mouth in the shape of a comical 'O' as he stepped out the car. He stared up at the ivy winding up the pillars that rose up to support the iron wrought railings of the balcony which stretched around the entirety of second floor. The white stone of the chateu inspired building design seemed brighter in the winter sun and Niall smiled at the familiar faces of some of the house workers, who rushed out to welcome him.
Zayn was still in awe, taking in his environment with surprised shining eyes but Niall only seemed to have eyes for his mother who weaved through their three maids to take Niall in a rib-crushing hug.
“Niall, baby! I've missed you so much! Look at you, you look wonderful!” His mother crooned, running her fingers through his hair before tugging him back into a hug.
His mother was the definition of warm comfort. She was a short lady, with blonde shoulder length hair styled into a classy up-do and her make up was as casual as it could be whilst matching a freshly pressed cream trouser-suit. No matter how expensive Maura Horan looked, the smile she directed at her son was every bit as priceless as it always had been.
He felt the exact moment that she spotted Zayn over his shoulder as she pulled back with a confused noise. “Hello there.” She said, voice soft as she was no doubt taking in the shaved head and hand tattoos peaking out from the holes of a worn shirt. Zayn smiled bashfully stepping forward and extending this inked hand towards her. Niall took in a deep breath, watching the expression of his mother's face which was thankfully neutral.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Horan. Your home is simply stunning.” Zayn said, and Niall noticed how his voice only cracked slightly.
“And who are you my dear?” His mother enqired though her eyes were on Niall, there was something almost knowing twinkiling in her grey eyes and it seemed to settle that part of Niall that had been nervous the whole journey there.
“I'm-” Zayn began throwing a look at Niall which screamed save me. Niall took his other hand slowly and watched as his mother's eyes followed the movement, the workers behind them silent in their observation of the scene.
“Mum, this is Zayn Malik. He's my boyfriend.”
There was a silence that threatened to stretch the entirety of his life span before Maura started clapping excitedly, her eyes squinting through the shear force of her grin. She squealed out, wrapping her arms around Zayn and pulling him into a tight embrace that left a little yelp falling from his lips. Niall simply beamed at the sight wondering why he ever doubted a different welcome.
“Why didn't you say sooner? Shame on you Niall for not letting your mother know the minute you met this boy! Oh Zayn my dear, it's wonderful to meet you!” Maura gushed, hands stroking down Zayn's arms as her eyes shimmered like she was about to do that cringey crying things mothers tended to do sometimes.
“Likewise, Mrs-”
“Don't you dare! It's Maura to you, my boy!” She said with a joking finger pointing in Zayn's face. She linked their arms together ushering him through the workers who smiled at him the way they did with Niall and wow, Niall felt sick with how domestic and homely everything felt.
How normal it felt.
“Come on Niall, let's get you boys some tea.”
“That sounds great, Ma.” Niall said, stepping up the stone stairway to the main doors which Maura lead Zayn through. The theif's eyes took in the extravagant chandelier hanging beside the swooping white staircase, the foyer sparkiling and Niall smelt the familiar scent that only came from coming home.
“I feel dreadful Niall! If I had known you were bringing back a guest I would have brought him some gifts!” Maura, turned then before Zayn could protest, lightly tapping Jane on the back who turned from resuming her dusting with a smile that Niall remembered well from his childhood. “Jane sweetie, can you please go down to the town centre with John and pick up some gifts that Zayn may open on Christmas day.”
“No need, Maura.” Zayn itneruptted, biting his lip with a blush as Maura turned tohim inquisitvely. “I erm, I don't celebrate Christmas.” It was bashful, a hand running over his smoothly shaven head.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I'm Muslim. So it's erm, not necessary.” It was strange to see Zayn this doubtful, reminded Niall of when the thief had turned up all those months ago to that disastrous dinner party. Where he had stood on the side-lines and watched the evening with eyes that reflected his fear at rejection. Niall wondered briefly if his boyfriend would ever get it into his head that he was every bit as welcome into Niall's life as he was.
“Oh that's fine my dear, Jane go anyway don't use Christmas wrapping. But instead something plain but not boring. Niall's boy deserves a welcoming gift if anything.” She threw a dismissive hand into the air and Jane nodded curtly before aiming a friendly smile at Zayn who's cheeks were still radiating a shade of soft pink.
“You don't have to.”
“If you're under my roof I will not stand for these protestations Mr Malik. Now come along, I will give you a tour of the house.” She re-linked their arms, fingers tracing over Zayn's tattooed forearm as she reached out her other hand to swat at her son. “Niall, ask Paul to drop your bags off with Peter and your father is in the study if you want to see him”
“You're stealing Zayn from me already?” Niall called out as his mother began walking with Zayn who was still visibly trying to adjust to his surroundings.
“It's been a long time since we've had a looker like this grace these halls, of course I'm stealing him.” She winked playfully.
“I'm flattered Maura, but your husband would most certainly kill me.” Zayn's reponse earned a hearty laugh from Maura, her back turning away from Niall as she threw up a delicate hand once more.
“Not on my watch, Doll. Run along Niall, I'll get some tea sent to the conservatory and we can all catch up. Greg should be home soon enough.”
“Ok mom, don't scare him now.” Niall warned, watching as Zayn threw him a lopsided smile before he got swept up in the attention Maura paid him, their conversation falling into silence the further away they got.
Niall watched them until they turned off down passed the gallery room, Maura no doubt beginning their little tour with a brief history of the Horan family. He didn't know what to think, really as he stood in his foyer. The workers continued on without him and at some-point, Peter had passed with Zayn and Niall's bags but all Niall could so was stand there.
He pondered for a few more moments, thinking way back to the first time he saw Zayn, the way his eyes had reflected nothing but hate and anger back at Niall as they scuffled and now here Niall was, trying to ignore the fire in his chest that told him it was love that was anchoring him to the spot.
He'd been sure of it for a while, that love is what he saw when he looked into Zayn's eyes. Love is what he felt when he'd lie in bed with a body curled against his, their eyes teary and sniffles loud from another episode of Game of Thrones. Love was what Zayn was and he felt kind of giddy with the realisation that hit him like that first slam against the wall from the theif who tried to steal his car.
He turned off in the opposite direction from Zayn and his mother's departure, heading down the familiar hallway and up the marble stairs passed the first dinning room. He could hear his father's voice as he turned off into the library, his father's office door open as it always was.
He waited for a few moments, listening as his father spoke with a dreary tone, perhaps annoyed with whoever was on the other end of the phone. He'd often complained to Niall how some workers of his were seemingly incapable of listening.
So Niall listened, head resting against a bookshelf as he listened to the same voice who had called out angry expletives down that very phone and in the next breath read Niall his favorite children's book whenever he felt sad. It was a strange mix and Niall wondered if he would be that kind of father too. One who could strike fear and unconditional love into his family home.
Niall swallowed down the thought of what kind of father Zayn would be. His thoughts were thankfully interjected by the sound of the phone hanging up and Niall allowed his prescence be known at that moment.
He peered round the corner, fist rasping at the door as his father looked up at him with a toothy grin.
“Niall!” His dad rose from his position behind his desk, closing the distance between them and trapping his son in a tight embrace. Niall sank into it, breathing in the smell of sandalwood and cigar smoke clinging to the fibres of his father's expensive blazer, imprinting the scent into his memory as they pulled away.
Bobby cupped his son's hand, Niall looking up into the eyes that his family had said were the double of his own. “You get bigger every time I see you!”
“And you're getting smaller!”
“I haven't missed your cheek, son.” His father laughed, moving towards his drinks cabinet and taking out two beers. Niall kicked off his shoes, lounging into the leather seat facing his Dad who offered him the bottle from over his desk. His old chair creaking under his light weight as he sat back down with a sigh. “We weren't expecting you back so quickly. The whole house has been excited knowing you were coming home. None more so than your mother.”
“Yeah she seems pleased. I'm glad. I've missed you guys.” Niall admitted, thumb toying with the label of his beer.
“We've missed you too son. Now, there must be a reason why you're mother isn't hanging off your arm, and chewin' your ear off about Uni so come on, tell me where she is.” His father had that same knowing glint that his mother had had outside and Niall thought they had definitely spent too much time together over the years if they were adopting one another's traits.
“She's in the ground floor parlour. With my guest.” Niall smirked, sipping his beer and looking down at his lap with a blush at his father's raised eyebrows.
“Guest, aye? Is this guest a girlfriend by chance?” Bobby chuckled.
“Not exactly?” Niall said nervously, smile tight-lipped.
“A boyfriend, perhaps?” Bobby pressed, taking another small sip from his beer and Niall took a gulp of his own as he nodded.
“Yeah, as it goes.” Niall said, finally meeting his father's eyes again and feeling set to burst at the look of pride that still hadn't slipped off his wrinkled face.
“What's his name?”
“Zayn Malik. He's wonderful Da, honestly.”
“Well let's get going, I need to meet the lad who's stolen my son's heart.” Bobby rose from his desk, beer still in hand and Niall followed. It felt like the acceptance he'd never sought out as his father wrapped an arm around Niall's shoulders and squeezed. A squeeze that spoke one thousand words, all of them warm and welcoming. All of them proud.
“Is it that obvious?” He said bashfully, Bobby guiding his son out of the office and stopping as they stood in the sunlight bleeding in from the large windows of the hallway.
“I wish you had been here to see the way I looked when I first fell in love with your mother.”
“I reckon I'd have loved to see that.” Niall smiled. If there was such a thing as true love, it began with Maura and Bobby.
“Just look in the mirror when you think about Zayn. And I promise you it's the same damn look.” His father, placed his hand on Niall's cheek and Niall didn't understand how someone like him could have such a supportive and loving family unit around him. He felt undeserving, it felt overwhelming and just as he opened his mouth to say something his father pulled away turning off towards the parlour. “Come on, son. Let's go save your other half.”
When they eventually found where Zayn was it didn’t look like he needed saving at all. He was sat on a white chair, inticately carved with the family crest on the back, resting a cup on the knee exposed from the rip in his jeans, a steady hand holding it still.
Well at least he wasn’t nervous anymore, chatting politely with Maura who seemed to be doing 90% of the talking the conservatory doors shut and keeping out the winter winds as the gardens stretched out ahead of them.
“Zayn Malik.” Bobby said, garnering the boy’s attention. Niall’s father had a smile on his face as he rose his arms out in gesturing for the thief. Niall bit his lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud at the look of genuine fear that crossed Zayn's face. He rose to his feet, cup on a coaster and wiping his hands down his thighs. He walked toward the greeting, advancing slowly towards Ireland's least intimidating figure with a nervous smile.
Bobby clasped Zayn's hand in both of his own, shaking it slowly.
“I can see what my boy sees in you.” He said and Zayn swallowed thickly, eyes wide and smile faltering a little. Niall cringed, rubbing a hand across his face and tutting loudly.
“Dad, shut up!” He whined, Maura tittering as she poured another two cups Niall sitting at the table and excepting his steaming earl grey with a wink to his Mother.
“It's true, he's a handsome boy Niall.”
“Thank you, Mr Horan.” Zayn blushed but seemed more relaxed. “Your wife is quite the looker too.” His tone was cheeky and it immediately set Niall’s inside into a soft warm fire, a laugh falling from his throat as the flames rose up his body.
“He can stay!” Maura commented from her position beside their Maid, who bought over a 3-tier afternoon tea stand, complete with beautifully presented finger foods and a cheeseboard. Niall knew they had cheaper food in the house, hell his dad's favourite was cheesestrings and that was £3 a pack but Niall appreciated the gesture.
Much to Niall’s surprise, his father stayed for a while, the four sat around the table and talking with one another about the mundane things in life. But nothing concerning Zayn was mundane, and the blonde boy still felt on the edge of his seat whenever Zayn spoke. Soft northern words coming out of a barely moving mouth and a slanted smirk and it all felt so very real and so very perfect.
“Party’s started without me so it would seem!” A loud voice called and they all turned to see Greg stood with his arms up and his scarf falling onto the floor from his neck. Maura jumped up, greeting her eldest with a kiss on the cheek and an offering of tea.
“My christmas has come early I think!” Maura exclaimed, taking her seat beside Zayn who was taking a long nervous sip from his tea cup, eyes eventually flickering up to meet Niall’s.
Niall had been worried since they left that morning and it was foolish of him really. How could he be? When Zayn was sat in those same ripped and oversized clothes as he always wore yet looking like he was always meant to sit in that overzealously decorated conservatory, drinking from expensive china with a wry smile.
Niall’s heart wasn’t capable of being this full, he was sure.
“Denise is on the phone to her work, she’ll be in soon enough.” Greg’s eyes fell to Zayn then, flitting between him and Niall like a tennis observer.
“So this is the boyfriend, aye?” Greg laughed loudly, rushing over to Zayn before enveloping him in a one-armed hug. Niall would get him back for that embarrassing display later but Zayn laughed along. “You’re the one making sure Niall’s world keeps turnin’ in London?”
“Something like that.” Zayn answered but he only had eyes for Niall then.
The weight of that answer followed Niall throughout the rest of the afternoon, long after Denise sat down and long after their tea cups emptied.