Work Text:
Liam isn't entirely sure what comes over him when he posts the ad to Gumtree. He's been thinking about it for a while, though, coming home from work after staying ungodly late, tired and lonely and just wishing that someone would be home, waiting for him, pleased to see him. He's been doing so well lately, all his investments paying off and then some, and now that he's got his new flat, his cars, his wardrobe upgraded--he wants someone else to spend his money on. Someone to share it with. Otherwise, what's the point?
His ad is well-crafted but subtle. He looked around the site for other people's attempts, trying to make sure the style is right, fits in with the others. He's gone the personal assistant position route: young attractive men only, live-in situation optional after a timeboxed trial. Expected to go above and beyond, performing duties at all hours. The double entendres are clear but technically legal.
After he clicks post, he takes a deep breath, pushes away from his desk, and hops around a bit, suddenly full of nervous energy. He changes into his gym kit and goes to his hanging bag in the basement to box himself calm, not sure there's a prescribed path of action in cases like this.
Once he's showered and back to his computer, there are already twenty replies to the ad. Liam laughs a bit--if only it had been this easy to get people to come to his birthday party as a kid. Although then he probably wouldn't have been so motivated to excel in his business degrees, to start building his empire so young.
The responses are pretty sub-par, all told, and Liam fights a moue of disappointment. Luckily there's at least one that looks sort of promising.
Saw your ad, excited for the opportunity!! About to start uni in London next year, moving down there soon and need a job to pay the bills. Niall Horan, 18, Irish, love people, ready and willing to work!! Not a lot of experience, but I'll make up for it, promise.
Liam writes back, a good feeling sitting happily in his chest.
Dear Mr. Horan,
Thank you for the reply to my job posting. I'd like to arrange a meeting to ensure you're a good fit for the position.
Liam huffs a laugh at his own brazen pun.
I'll be at the Paul on Bankside, the pastry shop, tomorrow at ten AM. Come to the corner table; I'll have a copy of The Guardian. You can reach me 07238493858 if you'd like to text upon arrival. Dress is business casual; come prepared for an informal discussion of what you hope to achieve if chosen for this opportunity.
Best regards,
Liam Payne
He reads it over three times before he sends it, suddenly nervous, although he couldn't say why. In retrospect, he should've required pictures from the respondents, but it's too late now. He can only hope Niall will be as cute as his eager reply suggests he might be.
*
It's nine forty-five, and Liam is ensconced at his usual table, a small plate of pastries by his elbow for him and Niall once the lad arrives. He's drinking a nice espresso, wearing his best grey suit with his favourite paisley pocket square. Punctuality is important even if he isn't really looking for someone to keep his diary in order, so he's holding his breath that Niall will arrive on time.
At five to ten, a sweet-looking, twinky blond with lovely bright blue eyes stops by Liam's table. "Hi," he says, smiling eagerly. "I'm Niall. Horan. Here for the interview. Are you Mr. Payne?"
Liam is positively enchanted by Niall's voice, his expressive face. He's utterly lovely, far more attractive than Liam could ever have hoped for. He looks so young and fresh, a hundred percent Liam's type. He stands quickly, not wanting to forget his manners, and takes Niall's hand firmly.
"Good morning, Niall," he says, and gestures to the seat across from him. "I'm Liam Payne, yes. Pleasure to meet you."
Niall sits and scoots in, the chair squealing. Liam winces but Niall seems unconcerned. He's wearing a plain white button-up shirt and some tight black trousers, a little bit worn at the knees. He has black dress shoes on, and a cross-body black bag. He looks nice, scrubbed clean, if not exactly sharp or expensive. Liam can change that.
"Pleasure's mine," he says back, accent lilting. Liam's immediately charmed. "Thanks for meeting me."
"Of course. So, Mr. Horan--"
"Niall, please."
Liam grins, taking the suggestion as a good sign. "Niall. Um. I'm not entirely sure where to start. You're a bit disarming."
"In a good way, I hope," Niall says, with a sweet but confused smile.
"Yes, definitely a good way. I'm--well, I suppose we should go over the terms of. Um. Employment." Liam's not sure why he's suddenly gone all fluttery in his stomach, why he can't turn on the cool facade he always uses in board meetings, pure confidence and swagger like a performance. There's just something about Niall that makes him feel vulnerable. "I'll need a photocopy of your ID and a clean bill of health, first thing. Negative results for all the major STI tests."
Niall blinks, nonplussed. "What? I mean, that's fine, I know I'm negative, but--is that really. Um. Appropriate? I don't have much workplace experience but I did didn't think employers were usually meant to ask for that."
Liam feels the beginnings of cold dread in his stomach, an anxiety he's not much used to feeling these days. "Did you. Oh god. Niall, Mr. Horan," he corrects himself, mindful now of being overly familiar. "It's possible you've misunderstood the nature of the advertisement I placed." He speaks slowly, trying to seem imperious instead of wracked with sudden nerves. "It's for a position as a personal assistant but you'd be expected to perform--hands-on duties. If you see my meaning." He raises his eyebrows, pleading that Niall won't want to leave. Or, worse yet, report him. He's not sure how or to whom, but the vague threat is there.
"Oh," Niall says, cheeks pinking up. Liam shouldn't find it so tempting, probably. "Well, I--"
"Please, help yourself to some breakfast for the road if you like," Liam hurries to say. "No trouble at all. Enjoy the rest of your day."
Niall reaches for a croissant, all measured movements. He tips forward like he's about to get up, but then he says instead, "What if I didn't want to? Leave, I mean." He clears his throat and laughs a little nervously. "I think maybe I'm still interested. In the--position. Under you." His grin is almost saucy, if a little wavery. Liam's stomach flips a bit.
"I can't pretend I wouldn't be pleased," he says, brushing at his sleeves and squaring his shoulders. "So far I think perhaps this could be a very fruitful--relationship. If you're still open to it."
"So to speak," says Niall, warming up to the situation. "I can get you my test results in a week or so."
"That should do nicely," Liam says, calling a waiter over. "Do you like coffee? The espresso here is excellent."
"Love it," says Niall, beaming, so Liam orders him one. "Hey, so, just in the interests of full disclosure," Niall says, fidgeting in his chair a bit, "I um--I haven't really been with. A man. As such."
Liam cocks his head to the side, "Oh?"
"Well I've been thinking for a while now," Niall continues, "that maybe I'm--more than a little gay. Gay-ish. I've messed around with lads before, you know, but nothing like. Serious."
"This would be serious," Liam says immediately. "And I'm looking for someone--adventurous."
Niall nods, still pink in the cheeks. "I think--yeah. I think I want that. God help me, I don't know why, but. Whatever's good, I'm there. And this seems good. You're. Um. You're easy on the eyes." He laughs, and Liam's already getting used to the sound, wanting to hear it more and more. Liam grins--can't not, when he hears that laugh.
"Well, nothing's iron-clad," Liam says. "No contracts in blood or anything. You can decide you're not into it anymore whenever you want." Niall visibly relaxes a little. "I just want someone cute to spoil, to spend some time with."
"A light in your boring work-a-day life?" Niall says, cheeky.
"Exactly," Liam says, smile soft.
*
It's only been a few weeks, but already Niall's slotted wonderfully into Liam's life. Liam works as late as always, but now when he finally manages to drag himself home, Niall's there, bright smile and warm hugs ready when Liam needs them most. Liam gets stuck in his head sometimes, but Niall's openness, his silly joie de vivre, always brings him back.
Today, Niall's just coming out of the shower; ostensibly he has his own room in Liam's penthouse, but he hasn't used it since the first night. His towel is hanging low on his waist, his slim hips and pale, narrow chest still wet and enticing. He knees up onto the bed next to where Liam is sitting with his tablet, checking Q3 projections as the morning sun filters in through the blinds. "Daddy?" he asks, voice quiet.
Liam swallows thickly. He looks up from his tablet, slides his glasses down his nose. His dick twitches under the duvet. "Yes, darling?" The daddy thing is new--but Niall's taken to it well, and Liam can't deny that it makes every nerve ending in him spark and thrill whenever Niall says it. There's some visceral response he has, some instinct, and Niall saying that is like a tripline.
"Nothing," Niall answers, sitting back on his haunches. His cock is perking up under his towel, and Liam puts his tablet on the nightstand. "Just--good morning."
"D'you need your daddy to choose something for you to wear, now that you're all clean?" Liam tugs at Niall's shoulder until he tips forward, turns to lie across Liam's thighs. Niall reaches up to kiss him, sweet and chaste and tasting of Liam's fancy whitening toothpaste. Liam deepens the kiss and clutches Niall closer, towel slipping down around his thighs.
"Yes," Niall says breathlessly as soon as he can pull back. His eyes are wide, shockingly blue, and Liam can hardly believe that he lucked out so thoroughly. That someone as perfect as Niall could've just fallen into his lap--literally and figuratively.
"I've got something new I want you to try," Liam says hopefully. "If you'd like."
"Yes please, Daddy," Niall says, eager, and Liam squeezes his waist, pulls him down enough that he can feel what that does to Liam's prick, how hard he is already, just from having Niall here with him like this.
Liam's just wearing a pair of jogging bottoms, so when he gets out of bed, they almost slide off him. He tugs them up, but gives a half-smirk to Niall, who has scootched back against the headboard, towel rearranged, and is looking at him hungrily. "You could just take them off," he says, cheeky, voice low and wry instead of the breathy tone he uses sometimes when they play. Liam laughs.
"In a minute, babe. Have to bring you your present first." Liam finds the boutique bag in the corner of his walk-in wardrobe, all black lace and swirling script. His hands get a bit clammy, images flashing through his mind of Niall hating the lingerie, of this finally being the last straw. He's been so genuinely game for everything so far--the daddy thing of course, but he also let Liam tie his hands and feet with some soft rope he bought on a sneaky visit to Harmony on his lunch break the other day.
Usually when Liam puts out Niall's clothes, it's tailored suits, designer denim, or soft, expensive jumpers. Liam has the money thanks to work and has acquired the style, thanks to personal shoppers at Selfridges and Harrods who've taught him with their suggestions over the years. Liam makes sure Niall has chores to do or errands to run so he knows people will see Niall in what Liam's chosen for him. Even though they don't know what they're looking at, both Liam and Niall do. Niall says he loves the attention, loves having someone to dress him up so he looks good since he's hopeless at it on his own. Liam, per usual, thinks Niall doesn't give himself enough credit.
When Liam comes back into the bedroom, Niall's scrambled off the bed and yanked the duvet up, making it in at least a quick approximation of his usual tidiness. He loves to clean up around Liam's flat, loves to organize and tend and cook. He says it gives him a sense of purpose, and Liam certainly can't argue with that. He gives Niall the bag, standing back with his arms crossed as Niall peeks inside.
"Woah," Niall says, and looks up at Liam like he's not entirely sure he's got the right bag.
"Lay them out on the bed," Liam says, nodding towards the swath of open duvet space. "Pick the one you fancy most and put it on for me." He squeezes his own biceps for a second, a nervous tic. "If you like."
Niall does as he's told; he upends the bag and gently lays out each filmy, flirty piece of lingerie. There's also a pair of plain pink cotton girl's knickers and a matching training bra, almost-flat cups sure to lie against Niall's skin nicely, not gaping around flesh he doesn't have. "You could start with those, maybe," Liam says, voice soft. "If you're not sure."
Niall laughs, the nervous kind of laugh, but his dick is hard under his towel, poking through the fold, pink and wet at the tip. It should probably look ridiculous, but it just makes Liam's mouth water. "Okay, Daddy," Niall says, the airy tone back now.
"C'mere," Liam says, and Niall tucks himself into Liam's arms, Liam pushing the towel off and cupping Niall's perfect, pale little arse, gripping until there are pink marks from his fingers spanning Niall's skin. His heartbeat's racing and as he runs his hands up Niall's soft, clean body, he sucks in a breath, wants something particular all of a sudden, like a punch to the gut. He circles his hands around Niall's narrow waist and says, "Are you Daddy's good little girl?"
Niall's breath hitches and he pushes his face into the side of Liam's neck. He's freshly shaved, cheeks and jaw smooth, lips pressing against Liam's throat. "Yes," he murmurs, barely above a whisper. He's practically vibrating, and Liam lets relief course through him, so glad that Niall's as turned on by this as he is.
"Yeah," Liam breathes. "Yeah you are. Gonna dress you up in your big girl knickers." He slides one hand between Niall's arse cheeks, fingers pressing dry at his little hole, pushing forward between Niall's thighs, knuckling gently at his taint. Niall mewls and his thighs spread, his arse pressing back into Liam's hand. Liam's fingertips nudge up against Niall's balls, already pulled tight against his body. He can feel Niall's cock against his thigh, dribbling wet onto Liam's jogging bottoms. "You're ready, aren't you?"
"Mhm," Niall says, nodding so his lips rub at Liam's stubble. Liam pulls back and Niall lists forward a little, following the line of his body.
"Stay there, sweetheart," Liam says, and grabs the underwear from the bed. He holds the knickers for Niall to step into, running his hands up Niall's thighs as he pulls them on. The cotton is smooth and soft, and Niall's hard dick barely fits into the gusset, straining against it, immediately dampening the fabric. "Look at that," Liam says, hoarse with how much he wants Niall right then. "Look what a messy girl you are."
Niall looks up at him, cheeks stained hectic pink, lips bitten plump. "Sorry, Daddy," he says. "I'm all wet." Liam tamps down on a grunt, trying to seem far more in control than he actually is.
"We'll worry about that later," he manages. "Now put on your bra like a good girl." He watches as Niall fumbles a bit, enjoying his struggle in a dark part of himself. The bra has a simple front-clasp, easy for a girl to learn on. Niall manages after a moment, the pink cotton perfect against his skin, framing the flush running down his chest. There's little bows on the straps that match the simple little bow in the center of the waistband of the knickers. Liam rubs himself through his trackies, humming low in the back of his throat. "Fuck, Niall," he says, dropping the pretense for a moment. "How does it feel?"
"Good," Niall says, voice catching. He shifts his hips, trying to situate his prick in the cradle of his new knickers. Liam needs to touch.
"Maybe I'll buy you a little skirt next time," Liam says, stepping closer, trailing a hand down Niall's chest. He rubs a thumb over Niall's left nipple, pressing into the cotton so it chafes against his skin, then works his other thumb over the right one. Niall gasps, pushing his chest into Liam's hands, fingers coming to wrap around Liam's forearms. "And a little top. Your tits look so good, baby girl." He ducks his head, puts his mouth right on the cotton, sucking and laving at it, making the fabric translucent with spit. Niall's nipples are hard, perfect for Liam to nip at, tease with tongue and teeth. They're sensitive, and Niall's torso is trembling, his breath coming in harsh gasps every time Liam bites or presses a nail in.
"Thank you, Daddy," Niall says, and Liam wraps him up in his arms, picks him up and kisses him, deep and dirty, tonguing him until Niall's mouth opens up and his head tilts back. Liam walks him over to the bed, throwing him back onto it and crawling over top of him, arms and legs on either side of Niall's slight body, feeling the rub of the cotton bra against his own bare chest.
"Such a grateful little girl," Liam says. "Grateful for your daddy. Grateful for my presents. Grateful for my cock, too."
Niall nods, lips slack, legs spreading under Liam. "Gonna fuck me?" he asks, hand going down between his thighs to cup himself, rubbing absently at the jut of his prick in the knickers, wet and smeary.
Liam sits back on Niall's legs. "What a filthy mouth you have, baby girl." He puts one of his palms over Niall's lips, smiling down at him. "Yeah, I'm gonna fuck you. Think I might need to tie you up first, though." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Keep you from touching your wet little pussy, you dirty girl." He grabs Niall's hand, the tips of his fingers slick already, and brings it up to press it against the pillow. "Look at you, fingers all wet and dirty from being in your knickers."
Niall blushes deeply, nodding under Liam's hand. "Yeah, Daddy," he says, muffled. Liam takes his hand away. "Should--tie me up. Need you to." His hips twitch, needy and slutty. Liam feels them between his legs.
"Stay here, baby," Liam says, sternly. "You can play with those perfect little tits, but that's it. No other touching." Niall nods rapidly, hands going right to his nipples, pinching and tugging. Liam rolls off the bed, heading back to the wardrobe to get his rope from the chest in the back.
It's soft cotton, over thirty feet of black with a little heft to it but no stretch. Niall says it feels good, tight but not painful, and he'd know--Liam's tied him up kneeling on the floor, before, has tied him to the posts of his bed. Niall wasn't sure about it at first, but now he loves it--loves being at Liam's whim, the security of the restraint. He loves Liam kissing his rope burns after, trailing gentle fingers over his sensitive skin, clutching him close and holding him while Niall shivers and gets used to his freedom of movement, to the ache in his limbs.
This time, Liam comes back to gaze hungrily at Niall as he writhes on the bed. Niall's eyes are closed, and he's plucking and rubbing at the training bra, his nipples still peaked and begging to be touched. "Roll over, Niall," Liam says, and Niall's eyes snap open--he hadn't heard Liam walk up. He scrambles to obey, prick hanging awkwardly in the pink knickers, bum pert and perfect in them when Niall bows his back, puts himself on display. "God," Liam murmurs, can't help it. He's so fucking lucky. "Cheek down on the bed, pretty girl," Liam says, low and hoarse with how much he wants this. "Bum up in the air. Clasp your hands behind your back like a polite little princess."
Niall does as he asks--Niall's nothing if not obedient, so eager to do well, to please Liam. It's a lot of pressure, sometimes, a challenge for Liam to live up to the responsibility. Niall's face is pressed into the bedcovers, his wrists crossed at the small of his back, swayed so his bum sticks up, the shadow of his balls visible through the pink drawn-tight cotton.
"Good girl," Liam says, rubbing his hands over Niall's arse, down his back, then back up to slide his fingers under the waistband of the knickers to slide them into Niall's crack, damp with sweat. He grabs the rope then, coiling it into the prisoner cuffs configuration. It's easy to slip over Niall's hands, to pull tight so he can't get out of it. Niall pulls at the rope cuffs, not to escape, but because he likes the feel of the restriction, and Liam loves to watch his struggle. "Looks beautiful," Liam says, and Niall rocks back on his knees a little, whining like he's desperate for touch.
Liam pushes down his trackies, letting his dick spring free, so hard it smacks his belly, smearing the line of hair there with precome. He crawls up to Niall, lines their bodies up, smelling the sweet clean skin behind Niall's ear, snuffling in his damp hair, down his neck, pressing gentle kisses as he goes, sliding his hands along Niall's body. As he moves down, Niall smells like sweat and sex, clean but boyish and sour with desperation. "You want me to fuck that little pussy still?"
Niall's knees slide apart on the duvet, thighs straining apart. He murmurs assent into the pillows. Looking at him like that, lying there prone, Liam's got a different idea.
"I don't know," Liam says, drawing it out, trying to keep his voice level, almost bored. "I just love these new knickers so much, Niall. Don't want to take you out of them." He pushes Niall's thighs back together with a quiet slap of skin on skin. "I think I'd rather do it like this." He lines up the slippery-wet head of his dick with the soft space between Niall's thighs, the girlish thigh gap he loves so much looking completely obscene framing the slicked-up gusset of the knickers. With a slow push, Liam fucks between Niall's legs, the damp fabric rubbing along the top of his dick, the fine hair of Niall's inner thighs catching the blurts of precome smearing through them. He starts thrusting, the fat head of his cock fucking against Niall's taint. Niall draws in a shaky breath, squeezing his thighs together tighter for Liam. "Just perfect," Liam says, and bends over, pulls Niall's body back up against his own chest, arms around Niall's soft belly, the rope of Niall's cuffs rubbing against Liam's skin. He jerks his hips harder, fucking into Niall's thighs like he'd fuck his arse, the smooth glide of it and the friction of the knickers perfect against his cock. "Made for this," Liam whispers, lips against Niall's ear. "Made for your daddy, aren't you? My little girl is just for me."
Niall nods erratically, pushing back into Liam's thrusts. "Yours, Daddy." Liam turns Niall's head with a finger under his chin, craning as much as he can to kiss him, hot and open-mouthed as he clutches him close. As he does, he pushes his hand down the front of Niall's knickers, cupping his hard cock, squelching in the precome that's seeped into the cotton, smeared around Niall's groin and up to his belly.
"So wet for me," Liam says, making a teasing, loose fist around Niall's prick. "I'm gonna finger you if you're good, baby girl. I said I'd fuck you and I'm gonna fuck you--get as many fingers in that tight little pussy as I can. You have to come for me first, though. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Niall says brokenly, and his thighs shake, torn between spreading wider for Liam's hand and clenching tight for Liam's dick.
Liam feels the change in pressure as he fucks in and out, murmurs, "Keep it tight," and Niall does. He tips his head back to lean on Liam's shoulder, the vulnerable line of his throat exposed, sweat beading along it. Liam licks a careful stripe along it, savours the taste. "That's right," he says, and huffs out a breath against Niall's skin. "Gonna come soon," he says. He works Niall's prick harder--the whole thing fits nicely in his hand, easy to jack and play with, to make Niall wriggle and jerk. He smears precome into the foreskin, slides it up and back, stretches it a bit, teasing until Niall hisses. He slides his other hand down between Niall's balls and the gusset of the knickers, making the space tighter for his own cock and also able to crook his knuckles into Niall's perineum, pressing and kneading as he catches his thumbnail in the slit of Niall's prick. Niall's body convulses and he cries out, "Daddy," belly tightening and thighs clenching strong around Liam's dick, involuntary but perfect. He bends forwards, keening as he comes over Liam's hands, thick wads of jizz sliming up the knickers, dribbling out the leg opening.
It's more than enough to get Liam coming too, dick pulsing and twitching around each sluice of come, his load smearing copiously all over the delicate skin of Niall's inner thighs, the knickers, mingling with Niall's come. The pull of his orgasm roars in his hips and spine, makes his skin tingle everywhere as he clutches Niall tighter. "Fuck, god," he manages, breaths coming heavy and fast, pulse thrumming in his ears. Everything smells thick and close and salty.
He pulls out from between Niall's thighs, spent dick sensitive and softening and goopy with both of their spunk. Gently, he rolls Niall over onto his back, leaving his hands tied under his body, but kissing him deeply, murmuring against his throat, his ears, hands roaming over his sweaty body, lavishing him with touch. "God that was gorgeous," Liam says, and rocks back on his knees, just looking down at Niall's body, debauched and perfect. "Did everything I said, didn't you? Kept it tight. Came just like I said." Liam nudges Nialls thighs apart, and his dick gives a weak twitch at the mess there, at the filthy knickers and Niall's little softening cock and the come caked all in his sparse leg hair and the creases of his groin.
While Niall's still catching his breath, Liam grabs the lube from the nightstand, slicking up his fingers and pulling aside the sodden gusset of the knickers so he can see Niall's hole, pink and clean just like the rest of him. "Gonna fuck you now, little girl," Liam says, voice gravelly. Niall spreads his thighs wider, eyes sliding open, hazed still with his orgasm.
Liam crooks his fingers straight away, finding Niall's prostate and pushing at it relentlessly, making him twitch and moan. His feet draw up on the bed, knees bent, splayed out and so open. Liam pumps his hand harder, deep and slow so he can keep the pace up. He rubs at Niall's spent dick through the cotton with his other hand, the wet mess of it dragging against Niall's sensitive skin, and Niall hisses, tries to pull away from the overstimulation at the same time he wants to push into Liam's clever fingers in his arse. It's perfect, his furrowed brow and pursed lips, Liam drinking in the indecision, the struggle.
He gets his hand into the knickers and around Niall's cock again, and there are definitely tears prickling in Niall's eyes, silent gasps coming from his slack mouth. It's too much, but Niall hasn't tapped out, is just drinking it in with every oversensitive nerve in his body. Liam is proud, then, feels full in his chest in a way he didn't think he could.
"Love you, Nialler," he says, all of a sudden--it just comes out of him. Niall stares at him, crying with how good he feels, and shudders through a second orgasm. Liam presses closer, working Niall through it with both hands, fingers slow and pressing firmly at just the right place inside, other hand loose as Niall comes, barely any jizz this time, cock flexing around almost nothing.
Liam pulls out gently, and as soon as he does, he gathers Niall up in his arms, loosens the rope cuffs and slides them off gently, rubbing at Niall's wrists. Niall's teary, face snuggled immediately into the crook of Liam's neck, burrowing as close as he can get. Liam holds him, rocks them both a little bit on the bed. "That was perfect," he says, mouth pressed to Niall's ear. "That was unbelievable, Niall. You're unbelievable." Niall's shaky, but he brings his arms up around Liam's back, hugging him back.
"Good," he says, barely able to speak, sounding completely wrecked. "I'm--that's good."
Liam laughs softly against Niall's hair, kissing him wherever he can reach. "So lucky to have you. Let's get you in the bath, shall we?"
Niall nods tiredly, and Liam manages to get them both into the big jacuzzi bathtub in the master bathroom without too much trouble, Niall sitting on the side watching with vague tired interest. His back is bowed forward and he looks so small like that, so infinitely desirable and wreckable. Liam can't help but reach over as the water runs, threading his hand through Niall's hair, rubbing at his shoulders. Niall hums happily, pleased at the touch. When Liam bundles them both into the bath, Niall is loose and relaxed, cuddling close. "Waste of water," he murmurs. "Me gettin' clean twice in a row."
"I think it'll be alright," Liam says, laughing. "I can afford it."