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“No man ever steps in the same river twice,
for it's not the same river
and he's not the same man.”
― Heraclitus
--
They had promised to stay together until death. And he guessed it was right. After all, he was feeling like he was dead inside. He didn’t know if he was a helpless romantic or if he was just too attached and stubborn to hate breaking a promise.
Or if he just couldn’t bear the sensation of losing the love of his life.
--
“You won’t meet the love of your life at a club,” Niall said close to his ear, patting his shoulder in a condescending manner. They were sat at the bar of the club, and Niall was trying to lighten Liam’s mood. “But you can get laid, which is our main goal here.”
He guessed Niall was right, though. That didn’t mean he would chat up that guy.
“You’re not helping, Niall,” Liam replied, trying to look nonchalant while the most gorgeous man he’d seen in his entire life glanced at him from the the other side of the bar counter.
“Actually, I am.” Niall tilted his chin not so subtly towards the dark haired man.
When Liam looked up, the man was smiling with a beer in his hand and saluting Liam from afar. Liam blinked, bemused, and looked back at Niall. A strangled “What?” was the only thing he could say.
After an eye roll followed by a long-suffering sigh, Niall said, “I told the barman to give the guy a drink and say it was from you.”
“You what?!” Liam almost ― the almost being the key word here ― screeched.
“You’re welcome,” Niall said, patting his shoulder again. “Now go talk with him, or you’ll gonna look like an arse.” And left.
“I hate you,” Liam mumbled, but Niall couldn’t hear him.
It wasn’t the first time Niall had embarrassed Liam ― or pushed him in the right direction, in his own words ― at a club. The thing was that Liam wasn’t the most confident man to exist. Even less in front of really hot people. But he’s perfected the art of pretending. So, he finished his beer in two deep swallows and walked towards the man. And liquid courage was a thing.
The man stared at Liam with a small, almost shy smile while he walked towards him.
With a grin, Liam came closer and said, “Hi, my name is Liam.” He knew his chat up line was lame, but he was a polite person and he thought it was only right to introduce himself first. “Sorry if I overstepped,” he added, and looked at the just emptied beer bottle the man put on the counter.
“I’m Zayn.” And sorry if Liam was a too white boy, but that name sounded attractively exotic and matched the man’s pretty face perfectly ― at the time, Liam didn’t know that thinking about people of colour as ‘exotic’ was disrespectful, but hey, he was trying there ― even Zayn’s voice was beautiful. “And you’re okay.”
“Good.” Liam nodded, smiling. “Would you like to dance?”
“Hm, not really, no,” Zayn answered, cringing a little. Liam deflated, and opened his mouth to apologize again for bothering the man, when he added, “But you can sit, and I accept another beer.”
--
In the end, Niall was wrong. Well, partially wrong at least, because Liam did get laid that night ― and he found the love of his life.
--
“You need closure, Liam,” Louis had said.
Maybe that’s why Liam walked to the park he and Zayn went to for their first date. At the time, they called it a ‘dog date’, because they used the excuse of taking their dogs to play at the park to see each other again. There was a river there and they sat while their dogs played in the water.
They kept going there with their dogs until they decided to live together. It was a year before their wedding.
Liam asked Zayn to marry him there too ― with an expensive ring and kneeling and flowers and a romantic song playing by the side. They went there to celebrate their first anniversary as well.
The next year everything started to crumble.
--
“ It’s our anniversary, Liam. Do you remember? ” Zayn hissed angrily on the phone, and okay, Liam knew he promised to go meet him after work, but.
“It’s an emergency, Zayn. We can celebrate next week,” he said, apologetically, trying to make things better.
After their first anniversary, they went to the river only twice, because Liam’s work was demanding, and he needed to prove himself. Zayn accepted that and supported him, but Liam could see that he wasn’t happy. Liam spent too much time at work ― and when he was at home, he was too tired to do anything besides sleep.
“ Or you could tell your boss that it’s our anniversary and come meet me at the park, ” Zayn snapped back.
“You’re already there?” Liam asked, surprised. He looked at the clock and saw he had an hour before the time they agreed to meet. Then, he understood. Zayn was already there because he had planned something special, which meant he was tidying the place. “Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.”
“ Don’t be sorry. Be here, ” Zayn said, sighing tiredly.
“I’m already on the plane,” Liam muttered. “I called you now so I could catch you at home.”
Zayn was quiet and Liam didn’t know what to say.
“ Okay, ” Zayn said, after a minute of silence, and Liam got alarmed immediately.
“No, babe. Really. It’s just until I get the promotion. I swear after it I’ll have more time for you,” Liam said, trying to think if he could get away with leaving the plane ― he couldn’t because the doors were already closed and the stairway was removed. Zayn’s easy acceptance made his skin crawl, and he should be thankful, but he didn’t feel like it was a real acceptance.
“ Yeah, I know. Bye. ” Zayn hung up before Liam could say anything more.
--
Liam went there because he thought Louis was right, it would be good for him, something like closing a cycle. But he guessed it didn’t work, because the folder with the divorce papers was forgotten on the sandy ground, the wind pushing dirt inside it and threatening to blow it away. It wouldn’t be so bad, though. At least he would have another excuse to not sign them.
The worse thing was that Liam couldn’t say that he didn’t know when it started to be easier to be away than with Zayn. He couldn’t say ‘ I don’t know what I did wrong ’, because he knew. He knew why and he knew when. He didn’t know when he gave up. But he did know when Zayn gave up.
--
“Liam, you said that after you got the promotion you’d have time for me. For us ,” Zayn said, and he didn’t sounded angry, just really tired.
Liam learnt that he couldn’t schedule a date previously, because he couldn’t predict when he would need to stay late at work. So he decided that he would just ask Zayn to go out spontaneously and try to do this at least twice a month.
Thing is, he used to be so tired when he left work, he couldn’t even think about going out.
“I know, I’m working on it,” Liam said, from where he was sprawled at the couch.
“Yeah, working ,” Zayn mumbled.
“What was that?” Liam asked.
“Nothing.” Zayn sighed and sat by his side, cuddling with him.
Liam frowned. “I can’t understand when you mutter. How can I stop doing what bothers you if you don’t tell me?”
“But I told you, Liam. Countless times. I don’t like to be married and not have a husband at the same time,” Zayn snapped, leaning back and disentangling himself from Liam’s side.
“Zayn, you know I can’t just not go to work,” Liam frowned.
“Actually, you can. You could quit that job and maybe find one that doesn’t keep you there twelve hours a day,” Zayn said.
Liam was shocked. “This is my dream job, Zayn! I can’t just quit it.”
“You can, you just don’t want to.”
“Well, yeah. I worked a lot to be where I am. If I quit, I’ll have to work much more to get the same pay,” Liam pointed out. They lived comfortably, and his job was the main reason for that.
“Maybe a lower pay could be good for you,” Zayn argued.
“What?” Liam couldn’t understand Zayn’s reasoning.
“Do you remember the last time he had sex?” Zayn asked.
“This is about sex, then?” Liam asked, starting to get angry.
“It’s not only about sex, but about sex too! I don’t want to be married to a roommate I only catch glimpses of late at night! I want a husband! I want company! And I want sex too!” Zayn was almost shouting.
“We’re not having this fight. I don’t want to fight about it again,” Liam said, and got up from the couch.
“You used to apologise when you were wrong,” Zayn mumbled.
“Yeah. I would, if I was wrong.” And he went to the bedroom.
--
Liam always thought he would be a cliché. He wasn’t too creative to try something different, and he thought that marrying young and living with the same person until getting old wasn’t so bad.
He never thought he would be the other cliché, the ‘divorced because of work’ one. Zayn was an artist and a teacher. He loved his work, but didn’t make much money. Liam was the executive. The one that put a lot of money at home to compensate not being in said home.
The wind blew the folder and it flapped so much it almost flew away. Liam stepped on it to prevent the pages from floating around and falling in the river, and picked it up. There was no closure for him there.
The folder with the divorce papers was fisted in his hand, the pages wrinkling with a slightly satisfying sound of crumpling paper ― he wanted to rip them to pieces. But it wasn’t his place to do that. He made Zayn unhappy; he didn’t have the right to just rip the pages. He walked home instead, and sat at the table.
It didn’t look like Zayn wasn’t living there anymore. He didn’t took anything; he left even the clothes Liam had bought him. The art pieces, the objects they chose together, everything that came from Liam’s money was left behind.
--
“If you think I’m still here because of money―” Zayn cut his own words short, and Liam looked at him alarmed.
“I never said anything like that!” Liam didn’t know where Zayn was getting these ideas, but he didn’t like it. He had started to talk with an ex-girlfriend, and Zayn found out. It was only that, but Zayn blowed it out of proportion. “How come we’re talking about Linda and you put money in the middle?” He didn’t understand how one thing went to the other.
“You’re talking to that― that woman again. If you want to go back to her and you think I don’t have a place to go, know that I do. I have my parents, I’m not alone in the world. I may not have a great job, but I can support myself.” Zayn was fierce.
“This house is yours,” Liam said, taken aback. “I bought it for you. What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying that if you don’t want to be with me anymore, be respectful and tell me, so I can go away,” Zayn answered, not backing down. “But you should appreciate more the people that appreciate you back, not any― someone that left you when you were young and came back now that you’re married .”
“This house is yours,” Liam repeated.
“I don’t want a fucking house,” Zayn said, but Liam didn’t add anything more. He knew how Zayn got when he was angry, he wouldn’t listen. “You won’t even fucking try.”
--
The pen was on the table, and Liam picked it up while he flipped the pages until he found where he was supposed to sign. Zayn had already signed it, and Liam stared at his signature for a while. His signature had changed in the five years they spent together. His curly, wide cursive letters gave place to blocky, harder ones, and Liam asked himself if he had part of the responsibility in that. Maybe his own letters had changed and he didn’t realize.
The point of the pen was poised over the line in which Liam should put his signature. His hand was trembling so much that he dropped it, exasperated.
Zayn was right, he didn’t try. Every time Zayn complained, Liam knew he was right, and knew that apologies wouldn’t change anything, so he stopped with the empty promises and started to keep quiet.
He waited until it was too late to quit his job ― when Zayn had already left him. And he accepted that at the time. He didn’t have the right to ask Zayn to stay. Without Zayn there, he didn’t have a reason to stay in the job. He had no reason for the money if he didn’t have Zayn to make comfortable.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He worked so hard because he wanted the status and thought he should give Zayn a comfortable life. But he didn’t ask Zayn if he needed ― or wanted ― any of that. He wasn’t so good at talking when it was about something really important, when he had to expose his feelings. Zayn always tried to talk, but Liam choked on his feelings and only talked when under pressure. Which ended in him saying something stupid and making everything worse.
If he only could talk to Zayn, say all the things he realized. Maybe it wasn’t too late. But Zayn didn’t want to see him right now. And Liam doubted he would be able to say everything he wanted to say without making an arse of himself.
You won’t even fucking try . Zayn’s words resonated in his head and he breathed deeply, deciding that Zayn deserved a person who would fight for him, not a coward. He picked up a clean sheet of paper and started to write.
“Zayn,
I know you don’t want to see me, but please, read this.
I’m not good at talking about what I feel, that’s why I decided to write a letter. I need to tell you some things, and you might think it’s too late, but I want you to know that I understand you. I mean, I understand why you left, and why you don’t want to see me. I know I hurt you, and you’re still hurting.
I realized I disappointed you on so many levels. I’ve been such a hypocrite, and I didn’t realize it until now, writing this letter. I was so focused in not breaking the promise we made in our wedding day, that I forgot all the other promises I made and didn’t fulfil. And because of that, I lost not only my husband, but my best friend too.
We shared so much that, if I wanted to take off me everything I got from you, I would be left with just about nothing. All of our inside jokes, our mirroring, the way we say what the other was about to say. All the good things we did and created together… It’s still part of my life; I can’t feel like any of it is in the past.
I listened all the times you complained about what I was or wasn’t doing, but I understood your reasons just recently. You were lonely and I was stupid enough to not notice it. I’m so sorry I didn’t understand what you tried to tell me all those times. You didn’t want a sugar daddy; you wanted a partner, a lover, a friend. What I promised I would be.
There’s some things I should have said to you… The first one is that I don’t want to divorce you. I didn’t say anything before, because I thought I didn’t have the right to try to stop you from going away. That was another mistake. I had that right. Not because I just had it, but because you gave it to me. And not using it made you think I didn’t care. And that’s another thing I didn’t say before, but I’m saying now: I do care. And I miss you so damn much.
Our home doesn’t have a meaning without you. It’s too big and empty, and I see your ghost in every room. I hear the murmur of your singing in the kitchen when I close my eyes.
I want you back so, so bad. It hurts so much. And it’s all my fault.
Please, forgive me. I can’t make promises anymore, because I lost your trust, but I can act.
I quit my job last week. Maybe it’s too late to do this, but I thought it was something I should say, so you can see I’m willing to compromise. I can sell the house, buy something small and cosy. Anything for you to give me a chance. I can change.
What pains me the most is that I killed that young, romantic boy that I met, and I stepped away, leaving you all alone. I don’t deserve you. Not right now. But I will work on it. I can’t promise to turn back into that boy you met, but I can turn into a better man. A man that deserves you.
The last thing I want to tell you is thank you. Thank you for having me in your life, for showing me how a real relationship should be. I’m so thankful for meeting you, for being able to touch you, to marry you, to share a life with you… Even if you won’t have me anymore.
I almost ripped the divorce papers up today, but that’s a right you didn’t give me. They’re still here, but I didn’t sign them. I want to try again, making it right this time, if you accept me.
I love you. And I want to see you again, to talk about it face to face, somewhere only we know. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon and I’ll take the divorce papers with me. If you go, we can talk about it. If you don’t go, I’ll accept your decision and I’ll sign the papers.
If, in the end, you don’t want to go, know I’ll love you until I die. It will never change.
This is me, trying.
Love you,
Liam”
--
Liam was anxious. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, and he went to the park early in the morning. He knew Zayn wouldn’t arrive early, knowing him, he would be late ― that is, if he decided to appear at all. But he couldn’t stay waiting at home.
He sat under a tree, looking at the river flowing in front of him. He was wondering if Zayn remembered this place. They used to go there a lot, it was their special place, only the two of them knew about it.
His phone’s alarm was set to buzz at noon, but it didn’t stop him from looking at it from time to time. The minutes crawled and he started to sweat from anxiety. When it buzzed, he jumped and looked at it, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around, but he knew Zayn would be late, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down to wait a bit more.
When an hour passed, he got up and started to pace. Another hour passed, and he sat again, feeling defeated. Zayn wasn’t coming.
Before he started to doubt if Zayn received his letter, he remembered that he got the delivery confirmation from the messenger. Maybe he didn’t read it. He thought. Or he just doesn’t want to try anymore.
His eyes started to burn, but he swallowed hard. He didn’t want to cry, it was useless ― but he couldn’t stop the warm flow of tears. Liam sniffed and bowed his head, his sight falling at the damned folder. He was feeling so defeated, he didn’t even want to rip it apart. His eyes kept glued on it, blurred by tears, for a long time.
His head and stomach were hurting, his eyes were red and inflamed and he just wanted to lay on the ground and stay there in foetal position. He wiped his tears and checked the hour. It was five pm. With a deep sigh, he picked the folder up and flipped the pages until he found the signature place.
His hands were trembling, but he forced them steady and signed the papers. Every line was a new tear in his heart. Once everything was signed, he got up on trembling legs and started his walk back home.
Some people stared at him while he walked. Probably because he hadn’t stopped crying. He was a complete mess, but he didn’t care. He had held the tears for so long, and now that he started to cry he couldn’t stop.
His hope that Zayn felt the same as him, that he still loved him, was completely crushed. Every step he took towards his house felt like a million of bricks were weighing his feet down. He almost stopped to weep on the pavement more than once.
When he entered home, he went straight to the shower. He cleaned the dirt from the riverbank and sat on the floor, feeling the water clean his body and wishing it could wipe away his sadness.
The doorbell rang, but he ignored it. It kept ringing, but it was easy to ignore it until it stopped. He got up from the floor and towelled himself dry, put some old joggers, not bothering with a shirt, and fell on the bed, feeling exhausted.
“Liam?”
He heard the soft call from the living room and jumped up. Only to fall back on the bed with a bout of dizziness. He held his head tenderly and answered, “I’m coming.” His heart was pounding in his chest again. Zayn is here! He got up, slower this time, and went to the living room.
Zayn was standing in the middle of the room, looking incredible beautiful and resolute.
“Hey,” Liam said, smiling despite everything. “Did you get my letter?”
“Yeah, I did,” Zayn answered, pulling it from his pocket to show he had it, and pushing it back inside.
“‘Kay.” Liam nodded. “You didn’t go,” he said, but his tone wasn’t accusatory. Zayn had every right to not go. Liam just didn’t know why he was there now.
“I didn’t. Did you sign the papers?” Zayn asked, and Liam’s breath caught in his throat.
“Yes,” he answered, and went numbly to the bedroom to pick the folder from the bedside table, where he had dropped it when he went to take his shower. I could have sent it to him; he didn’t need to come here for it, Liam thought, but didn’t say it. He just gave the folder to Zayn once he was back in the living room.
Liam was feeling too raw and exposed, but he knew Zayn had the right to be petty after everything he did.
Zayn opened the folder, checking every page and nodding when he saw they were signed. Once he checked them all, he closed the folder and dropped it on the coffee table. He sat on the couch and looked at Liam.
“I was just checking you would do as you promised,” he said, no hint of mockery in his voice.
Liam frowned and sat in front of him. “It was a test?”
“Yeah,” Zayn admitted.
“Okay,” Liam said, slowly. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did.” Zayn nodded.
“So, you’re here to…” Liam prompted.
“To have that talk you wanted to have at the river, but without the emotional blackmail,” he said, but his lips twitched up a bit, so Liam could see they were okay. Or as okay as they could be at the time.
“Good.” Liam nodded. “Can we have dinner first?”
“You trying to romance me, Liam?” Zayn asked, smiling a bit.
“I would, if I wasn’t starving. If you give me another opportunity, I’ll romance you the way you deserve,” Liam answered, his tone was light, but he was being serious. And he knew Zayn noticed it.
“You can get dinner,” Zayn said.
Liam got up to call the Chinese, noticing Zayn didn’t answer if he would give him another chance. He sighed and made the call, going back to the living room after it, to wait for the delivery.
When Liam sat on the couch again, Zayn said, “I want you to sell the house.” Liam’s eyes snapped up at him. “And I don’t want to go back to that river. Ever. It brings me bad memories. I want another start, and you’ll have to prove yourself all the while.”
He was setting his rules, and Liam nodded, understanding them all. “Okay,” he said, feeling the bubble of hope starting to grow in his chest, the smile fighting its way on his face.
“And I don’t want you talking to any exes,” Zayn added.
“No exes, okay. This one is easy,” Liam agreed, the smile finally winning the fight and spreading his lips.
Zayn smiled back, and Liam felt like he could breathe easily for the first time since he’d left. He wanted to jump over the coffee table and smother Zayn’s smile with a kiss, but he didn’t know if he was allowed. I broke what we had in a way that I don’t even know if I can kiss him anymore , he thought, sadly.
They looked at each other for some moments, and Liam remembered what he wanted to say to Zayn the most. He swallowed his pride down and said, “I regret everything I did to make you feel lonely or forgotten or less important than my work,” his voice was soft, but serious, and he looked in Zayn’s eyes. “You deserve better, and I won’t be that person again.” He took a quick breath, “Do you forgive me?”
Zayn eyes were shining with what Liam guessed were unshed tears. He got up and plopped down by Liam’s side, holding his face and kissing him firmly. Liam gasped and pulled Zayn closer, deepening the kiss quickly. He pulled Zayn to his lap, not caring if it was too fast or not, he needed him closer.
Zayn went willingly, not relenting the desperate kiss for glorious moments, until he broke it to mumble close to Liam’s lips, “Was it that hard?” He nipped Liam’s bottom lip. “I forgive you, you idiot.” And kissed him again.
The sound of the doorbell ringing made them break the kiss and laugh a bit.
“I’ll get that,” Zayn said, and got up from his lap to open the door.
Liam smiled with the way he was acting, going to open the door like everything was okay for real. He was dizzy, and he didn’t know how much of that was because he didn’t eat anything that day and how much was because of Zayn. He didn’t care, though.
When Zayn came back with their food, he went straight to the kitchen and Liam got up to follow him. They ate watching a movie, and when they finished, Liam didn’t know if he should ask Zayn to sleep with him.
“Just because I said I want to start again, you don’t need to act like we don’t know each other, Liam,” Zayn said, looking at the telly.
Liam looked at him with a small frown between his eyebrows. “It’s just…” He took a breath, deciding to be honest. He had promised to be better at communication. “I dunno how to act right now. I mean, I dunno if I can assume you’ll sleep here with me or if I should ask you to, or if I should not say anything about it.”
Zayn chuckled and looked at him. “I dunno about you assuming anything, but you should ask. I prefer you talking to me,” he said.
“Okay. Will you sleep here tonight?” Liam asked, not bothering to hide how hopeful he was.
“Why you’re asking me that?” Zayn replied with another question, and Liam scrunched his face up.
“You’re gonna make me work for it, won’t you?” he said, chuckling.
“Oh, yeah,” Zayn said, teasing.
“I’m asking it because I miss you and I want to sleep close to you,” Liam said.
“Hm, just sleep then?” Zayn asked, smirking.
“If you want just sleep, I accept that,” Liam said, shrugging. “Even though I prefer to do a bit more than sleep,” he added.
“You just want me for my body,” Zayn said, joking and pinching him on the chest.
Liam let Zayn pinch him, and held his hand close to his skin. “Not just for it, but I have to say it’s a plus,” he bantered right back.
“You saying my body is a plus?” Zayn pushed him, but he didn’t go far, because the armrest of the couch prevented it. “Let me tell you the plus is my shining personality and wit.”
Liam laughed, relishing in how they could go back to that playful stage easily. He was absolutely sure it was because, beside husbands, they were best friends. Liam pulled Zayn by the hand he used to push him, and hugged him close.
“I missed you so much, babe,” he whispered close to Zayn’s ear, kissing his neck softly.
“Me too,” Zayn said, raising his head and kissing his mouth softly. “Let’s go to bed.” Zayn got up and helped Liam to get up as well.
Liam wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and stumble-walked glued to his back. Zayn giggled with his antics and pinched his waist.
“Hey, stop pinching me,” Liam complained, biting Zayn’s neck and feeling him shudder in his arms.
“You won’t let me walk. I’m only defending myself,” Zayn said, slapping his butt.
“You can’t get your hands off me, that’s why you pinched me and pretend you want me to let go, but the truth is that you want me closer,” Liam whispered in a deep voice, close to Zayn’s ear.
Zayn hummed and dropped his head back on Liam’s shoulder. “You know me too well.” He held Liam’s butt firmly and grounded his hips back, rubbing himself on Liam’s crotch.
Liam moaned and kissed his neck hungrily, biting and rubbing his stubble over the sensitive skin, tightening his arms and pulling Zayn even closer.
They stumbled on the bed, Zayn kicking his shoes on the floor and Liam helping him to take off his socks. They removed their clothes in no time at all, their skins warmed by each other’s hands. Liam kissed Zayn deeply, hungrily, not letting their mouths separate for more than a few seconds.
His skin was clawed by Zayn’s hands squeezing his muscles in the same desperate way. Zayn pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. Fuck yes , Liam thought, squeezing Zayn’s bum with both his hands.
Zayn broke the kiss, a desperate moan leaving his lips. He raised his back and leaned towards the bedside table to pick up the lube.
“I need you right now,” Zayn breathed, his voice was rough and his movements were hurried.
“Yes, yes. Me too, love,” Liam gasped, helping Zayn with the lube.
After three of Zayn’s finger were lathered with lube, he pushed them in himself roughly. “Fuck,” he hissed, but he didn’t look like he was feeling pain ― at least not one he didn’t want.
“Shit, babe,” Liam groaned. The vision of Zayn getting himself ready for him would never be something that didn’t tilted his world on its axis. Liam squeezed lube in his hand to lather his dick with his eyes glued on Zayn’s hand, in where his fingers were disappearing inside him.
Sooner than what he expected, Zayn removed his fingers and raised his hips. He slapped Liam’s hand off his dick and positioned himself. The sound he made while he pushed himself down on Liam’s dick was one of the most erotic things he heard in all his life. The sensation of being pressed inside Zayn, the tight clutch of his body, hungry and ready around him, was overwhelming.
Zayn clawed at his chest for support and started a punishing rhythm from the beginning, making Liam see stars. Zayn was a natural force in bed, the way he gave and demanded, the way he was so carefree and hot, how he loved to be messy, how thirsty and shameless he was. The way he moved was enthralling, hypnotising, when Zayn was like this, Liam couldn’t think in nothing else.
Liam held Zayn’s waist tight and pushed his hips up at the same time he pulled Zayn down.
“Fuck, Leeyum,” Zayn sobbed, his thighs trembling and losing strength.
Liam kept pushing up, hard and fast, his hands holding Zayn where he wanted him, fucking up and punching groans out of his mouth every time their hips slammed together. “Shit!” Zayn whined and came all over Liam’s abs, collapsing over him. “Don’t stop,” he gasped, fisting Liam’s hair and clashing their mouths together hungrily.
Liam couldn’t take anymore. He pushed inside Zayn one last time, his feet tingling and pleasure rocking his body, while he came with a groan.
When he came back to himself, Zayn was still kissing him, softly, even if he wasn’t able to reciprocate yet. He smiled in the middle of the kiss and kissed Zayn back, lazily.
Zayn sighed and rolled off of him, but cuddled to his side. Liam was blissed out. He wrapped Zayn in his arms and tried to push the thoughts about how he almost lost him from his mind. It wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Damn, I missed that,” Zayn mumbled, sleepy.
“And you said I was the one only interested in your body,” Liam chuckled, feeling content.
“Oh, but I never pretended I didn’t want to tap that,” Zayn said, caressing Liam’s chest. “But, using your own words, your body is a plus, babe.”
“Your body is not a plus. It’s a times one thousand,” Liam said, and Zayn cackled.
“You’re such a romantic,” he replied between splutters of laugh.
“I sure am,” Liam said, giggling. He sobered up after a bit, though, looking at Zayn’s beautiful face. “I was thinking, we already have a significant place, that only we know,” he said, rubbing Zayn’s hand with his thumb.
“Yeah?” Zayn looked at him, a small smile on his lips.
“Yeah. Right here.” Liam squeezed Zayn’s hand. “Not this house, ‘cause I’m selling it. I mean here, together,” he explained. “This is somewhere only we know.”
“Yeah.” Zayn smile was bright when he nodded, understanding what Liam was talking about.
“Yeah, the perfect place.”
“Our perfect place,” Zayn whispered, and rested his head on Liam’s chest, using it as a pillow. He closed his eyes and sighed, drifting to sleep quickly.