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Come and get your come on...
Zayn fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. He doesn't know what he's doing in a suit, standing on the porch of his own house, but Liam's text had been extremely specific both in requested wardrobe and the necessity of waiting until Liam was ready to let him in.
Finally, finally, Liam opens the front door and Zayn's mouth drops open a little. He can feel his temperature rise. Liam looks fucking edible, wrapped like a present in an impeccable suit of his own. Maybe after years together the sight of Liam all dressed up shouldn’t hit him like a punch in the gut, but it’s been so long since he’s seen it in person rather than photos.
“I take back every bad thought I had about being made to dress up,” Zayn says, letting Liam usher him into the house.
Liam laughs, eyes crinkling up in the way Zayn adores. “You look amazing,” he assures, groping Zayn’s ass a little as he pushes him toward the dining room.
“I don’t know what you have planned, but we could just skip straight to dessert?” Zayn suggests, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” Liam replies cheerily. “I worked hard on this and you’re going to appreciate it.”
Zayn pauses just inside the dining room, taking it all in. The lights are off and candles artistically placed throughout the room. Dinner is on the table, set for two, and it smells delicious. A vase of orchids is placed in the center and Zayn melts back against Liam's chest.
“You got me orchids.”
“You said no roses this year,” Liam murmurs, nuzzling the sensitive skin behind Zayn’s ear.
“I also said no elaborate gifts,” Zayn points out.
“S’not a gift,” Liam replies smugly. “It’s dinner.”
Zayn laughs. “Fine. Let’s eat.”
Liam insists on pulling Zayn’s chair out for him and placing a cloth napkin in his lap which makes Zayn amused and fond in equal measures. Apparently Liam is committed to giving Zayn a restaurant experience even though they can’t go out to one. It’s sweet and so very Liam and Zayn wants to give him the world.
“Okay, so, I hope this turned out well,” Liam says as he prepares Zayn's plate with what looks and smells like dal of some sort.
“Wait. Did you cook?” Zayn probably shouldn't sound so skeptical.
Liam can cook, kind of, but never anything with more than five ingredients. Zayn is usually the one who cooks for them. Honestly, they order in more than they probably should. He half expects Liam to get defensive of his skills, but instead he just looks nervous.
“Yeah. Um. I hope it tastes right?”
Zayn takes a bite and almost chokes in surprise as the familiar flavors burst over his tongue. “It tastes like me mum’s?”
Liam's relieved smile is wide and brilliant. “She walked me through it. Every step.”
“You called Mum to teach you how to cook for me.” Zayn is constantly surprised and gratified by all the tiny things Liam thinks to do for him.
“Video, yeah. I hate that thing with the oil and spices? Burned my wrist from the popping.” Liam pushes his lower lip into a pout and holds out his wrist like a war wound.
Zayn smothers a laugh and brings Liam’s wrist up to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Thank you. Your sacrifice is appreciated.”
“You laugh, but it was very stressful and complicated,” Liam says with exaggerated grievance.
“I know,” Zayn replies. He reaches out to cup Liam’s jaw and runs his thumb over Liam’s plush lower lip. “I really do appreciate it, love. This is amazing. You did so good.”
“Gonna send your mum some flowers. She was really patient with me.”
“Babe,” Zayn says after swallowing another surprisingly delicious mouthful. Even the rice is perfect and Liam always undercooks rice. “You send Mum flowers at least once a month.”
Liam shrugs. “She’s responsible for the existence of my favorite person. She deserves flowers. Besides, you send my mum flowers all the time too.”
Zayn grins. “For the same reason, yeah. And I gotta make sure I’m still her favorite.”
“Alright. Then we’re both as sappy as the other and you can’t make fun of me for it,” Liam states.
“K. Agreed,” Zayn replies with overwhelming fondness. Something about the candlelight and effort Liam has put into pleasing him has Zayn wanting to crawl into his lap and kiss him for hours. Which is not exactly a rare urge, to be completely honest.
Liam chatters idly about the weather and music, but keeps eyeing Zayn’s plate. The second it’s clean he licks his lips and leans forward, eyes hooded and dark. “Are you finished?”
Zayn swallows hard. “Yeah.”
In one swift motion, Liam pushes Zayn’s chair away from the table and gracefully slides to his knees between Zayn’s spread legs. He slides his palms up Zayn’s thighs to cup his hips through the thin slacks, thumbs pressing firmly into the muscle there. The smirk on his face is lethal.
“Just to take the edge off,” Liam explains in a husky voice, unzipping Zayn’s suit trousers and pulling out his half-hard dick.
All Zayn can do is watch Liam swallow him down, limbs gone heavy and useless. There’s something about being fully clothed otherwise that does it for him, reminds him of getting each other off quickly before the lads or security could catch them. All that shared experience has made Liam an expert at getting Zayn off in minutes if he wants to.
He appears to want to now if the dedication on display is any indication. Liam knows exactly where to flick his tongue, when to employ a steady rhythm and when to deepthroat him. Zayn lets his head fall back and his mouth drop open and allows Liam to drag him to the brink of orgasm before shoving him over.
Liam leans back on his heels and swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks incredibly pleased with himself, but he has legitimate reason for smugness. Zayn is still struggling to regain control of his limbs. Clearly Liam notices because he scoops Zayn up in a bridal carry and heads for the bedroom.
“What the fuck,” Zayn yelps. “Put me down, Li!”
“Too late,” Liam announces, dropping Zayn unceremoniously to the mattress. “We’re already here.”
Zayn bats ineffectually at Liam’s chest, producing a low rumble of laughter from his partner. Zayn scowls up at him playfully and tugs on his tie, sending him sprawling across Zayn’s lower body. Liam grins and bites down on Zayn’s hip.
“Geroff me, you mad man!” Zayn yells, laughing.
Liam smiles slow and hungry up at him. “You sure? Most of my plans include being on you.”
Zayn’s breath catches in his throat as the air between them goes hot and electric. “And in me.”
“Mmm, that too,” Liam agrees. “Budge up. Need a little more room. Gonna unwrap you like a present.”
Zayn can’t help the tiny whimper that escapes his lips. He slides further up the bed as quickly as he can, rucking the blanket up a bit under him but he doesn’t care. He can’t care about anything when Liam is crawling after him, intense and single-minded.
Liam starts with his tie, sliding it undone and setting it aside before slipping Zayn’s jacket over his shoulders and down his arms. It gets tossed to the chair in the corner of the room before Liam begins slowly unbuttoning Zayn’s shirt, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses on every newly exposed bit of skin.
Time slows to a stop around them, leaving space for just the two of them to exist. It's often like this when they're together, especially if they’ve been apart, easy to get lost in the world they've created between them. They are a universe unto themselves.
Liam strips Zayn of his shirt and moves on to his trousers, giving his legs the same treatment his chest received. Due to the blowjob, Zayn isn’t desperate and demanding like he normally would be at this slow burn. Instead he lets it heat him up from the inside out, simmering under his skin in a kind of languid decadence. It feels amazing. Clearly this was Liam’s plan all along and Zayn has to give credit where credit is due.
“Flip over,” Liam orders softly, nudging Zayn’s hips until he obeys. He takes the abandoned tie and pulls it tight over Zayn’s eyes, securing it behind his head. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Zayn whispers fervently. “Yes, yes, yes.”
The silk isn’t quite wide enough to block out all light, but it is enough to restrict Zayn’s vision and allow him to focus purely on the physical sensations Liam is pulling from him. Liam nibbles at the nape of Zayn’s neck and begins dropping languid, open-mouthed kisses down his spine. The rapid succession of the heat of Liam’s mouth and the cool air once he moves on leave Zayn a shivering mess.
Liam pauses at the small of Zayn’s back, sucking at the sensitive nerves until Zayn is keening with it, begging for more. He can feel Liam’s grin against his skin before he moves on to where Zayn really wants him, pulling apart his cheeks and licking at the sensitive skin. Nothing wrecks Zayn so quickly as being eaten out and Liam knows it, knows how much more effective it is when he’s blindfolded and unable to focus on anything but the silken press of Liam’s tongue and the blaze of his own nerves.
“Please,” Zayn begs, squirming under Liam’s grip. “More.”
Zayn hears the familiar sound of lube being flicked open and then Liam’s finger presses into him smoothly. Tears gather at the corners of his eyes in relief and Zayn pushes back greedily. Liam smacks his ass in admonishment, but gives him another finger anyway.
“Be good,” Liam murmurs huskily. “Let me spoil you, baby.”
Zayn melts into the mattress, gives up his last tenuous grasp on control, and lets Liam move at his own maddening pace. There’s a plan set in his devious mind and nothing Zayn does is going to derail it. It’s better to give in and let Liam take him apart piece by piece.
By the time Liam finally slides into him, Zayn is a whimpering mess, open and desperate and weak from the onslaught of sensation. Liam sets up a slow, deep rhythm that catches Zayn’s prostate on every thrust and leaves him incapable of speech beyond needy moans and whimpers that he has no control over.
He loses the concept of time, floating in a haze of pleasure orchestrated by Liam, taking what he has been given as the gift it’s meant to be. Zayn’s whole body is awash with pleasure and when he comes it’s almost like an afterthought, like he’s been coming this whole time already and actual ejaculation is just one more sensation amongst many.
Liam thrusts a few more times before coming with a punched out moan. He collapses onto Zayn’s back, slick with sweat and breathing hard against Zayn’s neck. Zayn never wants to move again. He’s melded with the bed and Liam and he’s good here.
“Can you pull off the blindfold?” Zayn requests, voice hoarse and soft. “I can’t move my arms yet.”
“Yeah,” Liam chuckles, tugging the fabric from his eyes. “That good, huh?”
“Been awhile since it’s been like that,” Zayn admits. “You’re amazing.”
“You are,” Liam counteracts, peppering Zayn’s cheekbone with feather light kisses. “Thank you.”
Zayn snorts. “For what? You’re the one who made dinner and fucked my brains out my head. I didn’t get you anything because we weren’t going to this year.” He’s still a little put out by Liam being a sneaky little shit and getting around that ‘no gifts’ thing. But not very because he’s still essentially boneless.
“You’re gift enough,” Liam says lovingly.
“Gross,” Zayn shoots back. “But same, you know?”
Liam smothers a wide, eye-crinkling smile against Zayn’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”