Chapter Text
Friday :
The ringtone of his mobile blares throughout his soundless bedroom, reverberating off the walls as it almost vibrates off his nightstand, Zayn groans huffing out a exasperating breath out of his nose; before rolling over to see that not even the sun peeking in from his blinds. It should be illegal to be up at this time of day, but he still sits up in his bed, stretching out his limbs as a shuddering yawn wracks through him. Zayn yanks up his mobile before the fourth ring answering it quickly –
“Hullo,” he says into the phone, all laced with sleep and annoyance.
The person on the other side of the speaker chuckles wholeheartedly, and Zayn suppresses an eye roll because seriously, who’s this happy at the crack of dawn? he definitely not, especially after he spent the entire day cleaning and planning out his weekend for when his boyfriend, Liam comes over to visit from university.
“Forgot me already, eh?”
And the voice startles Zayn, waking him up if he isn’t already, he pulls his mobile from his ear and checks the date and time, April, 26th, 04:35 am, and now he remembers why his phone kept going off every fifteen minutes about an hour ago before he turned it off. “It’s fine though, babe . . . I guess I’ll find my own way to your flat.” He teases through a laugh and Zayn rolls his eyes then as he lazily crawls out of his warm duvet with his phone now on speaker as he drags his feet on the cold, creaky hardwood floor to the lavatory down the hall of his flat.
“Shut it, before I really don’t come and get ya arse.” Zayn replies with his toothbrush in his mouth while he rubs the sleep out his eyes. The phone in set in his toiletry on top of his toilet and he brushes his teeth over the grin that wants to appear on his mouth when he hears Liam snort and mumbles out ‘yeah yeah, whatever. . .’ When he’s done Zayn takes a piss listening to Liam yell out la-la-la-la-la-la because “ewe babe, don’t ever take a wee while talking me on speaker. It’s bloody gross.” Zayn eyebrows rise in amusement and calls him out on the time he took a shite when Zayn was taking a shower a few summers ago when he couldn’t lay off the hot-dogs at Niall’s BBQ. Liam is quiet then and Zayn takes the last laugh.
-
Zayn pulls up to a curb in his black, old, rusty but sleek 1976 BMW, the car jerks forward a bit before it comes to a full stop, it was a friend of his baba’s before his baba bought it for him on his sixteenth birthday. Although, everybody thinks he should stop driving it because it’s not safe and that it might one day break down on him in dangerous situation (God forbid), it’s special to him and even he knows that he needs a new car but once this one breaks down for good, it’s absolutely ace. He spots Liam sitting on his suitcase by the trashcan as he peels an orange and chucks a slice into his mouth, Zayn watches him in absolute adoration, he wants to run out of his car that Liam hates so much–it’s like a burning passion and he scolds Zayn for it each time he sees the piece of shit car—and wrap him up in his arm and hug him so tight that they’re both panting for air when they pull away. And he wants to kiss Liam so hard too, that his mouth turns puffy and cherry-red and his cheeks are ruddy from a cheek-aching smile. That’s how much he misses him. But instead he rolls down his window on the passenger side and calls out “oi, dick face, over here!”
An instant smile invades Liam’s mouth, he almost leaves his luggage when he catches his boyfriend’s car, he even ignores the fact that Zayn still has it when he jumps into the passenger seat and attaches their mouth tout de suite. It catches Zayn off guard, a slick, warm mouth moving rapidly against his in a pattern he can’t quite catch onto; but he kisses back nonetheless, one hand at the back of Liam’s head, where there were once curls now it’s down to buzz-cut. While, his free hand trails over each vertebrate, until it rests in the dip where his spine stops; a moan converts into a whimper when Liam licks and nibbles on his bottom lip then tries to climb onto his lap, and as much as they should stop, they don’t and continues to devour into each other’s mouths sharing saliva and tongue kisses.
“Missed you so fucking much. . .” He says breathlessly into Liam’s mouth, tasting the oranges and swallowing the needy sounds that escape his throat.
“Me too, but no talking, kiss me here,” he replies lowly, lolling his head back and making his boyfriend’s pepper kisses along his neck until he gets just on top of his birthmark. “And touch me there;” he leads both of Zayn’s hand so they’re planted on his ass.
They both kiss for a while longer, Liam’s fingers clenched in Zayn’s hair tugging roughly at the long roots that he didn’t leave Zayn with back in September, as his lips part into a silent gasp as he feels all the blood rushing to the spot that Zayn is sucking on unceremoniously. And Liam is never the one for PDA or in their case seconds away from having dry sex in a car with no such thing as tinned windows; so he pulls back, breathing heavily with a hazy grin over his glossy, cherry-red, swollen lips; back into the passenger seat as Zayn wipes across his bottom lip with thumb, loving the numbing sensation it has. He stares at Liam with all the love in his eyes that says: I love you so much, you stupid dork.
“Stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like—like . . . just stop, you’re being creepy!” He giggles and his shoulders come up to his cheeks in the cutest way that Zayn misses. “Drive, Zed, I’m tired.”
He steals a kiss before starting up the car; he ignores the scowl from Liam when the car jerks forward and the ignition growls. He turns up the radio letting Drake’s Hold On, We’re Going Home blare out of the rolled down windows of the car as he drives through the streets. They make it to the flat in one peace even after the car started to slow down on the highway and Liam’s yelling out, “I’m gonna die, I can’t die, I really hate you Zayn! This car is a piece of shit!” He’s the first one out, grabbing his suitcase and kicking the car’s tire grumbling something incoherent under his breath.
-
“I’ll sell the car if you talk to me again, please baby,” Zayn says rubbing his palms over Liam’s hipbone as they stand in the shower, his mouth press to the side of his boyfriend’s neck as Liam huffs out a breath still not talking to Zayn.
“You’re selling it no matter what, we could’ve died today!”
“You’re being dramatic, Li.” He laughs then Liam elbows him not so softly in the stomach. “I’m kidding, fuck! This is not how I wanted to spent the first night with you.”
Liam then turns and grabs Zayn by the waist, pressing their foreheads together, his back towards the shower as he hugs him, apologizing with a laugh into his ear for elbowing him. Zayn falls into the hug so naturally, face planted on his chest as he tells Liam all that he has planned for them and how he was literally counting down the days for his arrival, and Liam doesn’t detect not one single lie, because he’s sees all the comic books and the movies lined up perfectly on the coffee table out in the living room, he sees the duvet on the bed that Zayn hates but Liam loves, the kitchen is filled with all of their (mostly Liam’s) favourite snacks.
“Then how?” But Liam’s knows how, he’s teasing when Zayn lifts his head with a lascivious smirk.
Liam giggles as Zayn grips his ass and backs them up against the cold tile of the wall, the water only tickling his back, soap studs rolling off their bodies as they’re pressed up against each other. Their mouths ghosting each other’s while Liam’s fingers curl around a bunch of Zayn’s hair to catch his lips with his own, he sighs deeply missing the way they fit so perfectly, and how no matter what Zayn’s tongue always tastes like spearmint and faint cigarette smoke.
When Liam’s grinds his hips into Zayn’s stiffly so the friction is more intense letting his mouth gap open and Liam is still kissing him, around and in his mouth, his eyes flutter shut to, stuttering out, “bedroom, now . . .” because he’s just as needy.
Liam doesn’t stop not even when the shower is turning cool, his mouth moving downwards from Zayn’s chin, neck, chest, navel then he’s on his knee, nuzzling his nose in the rough patch of Zayn’s pubic hairs. He glances up to see his boyfriend relax against the wall, before darting out his tongue and licking from the base to the tip, he feels the shudder wracking through his boyfriend’s body as his cock twitches on Liam’s tongue.
It had to be months since Liam went down on Zayn, the obscene moans that come from the boy above as he tries to find something to hold onto. Liam takes the scratching on his scalp as encouragement, grasping the base of his boyfriend’s cock without so much of a second he goes down immediately, pink mouth swelled around Zayn right away. He gasps out, knees weakening as he holds onto the back of Liam’s head for support, looking down and blind by everything but the boy beneath him bobbing up and down his cock, lashes dark and pretty as his eyes are lidded and face flushed.
Liam moans, the sensation making Zayn’s inner thighs quiver as he tries not to buck up his hips but Liam’s loves it, misses this to be frank, lowering his head so his nose is buried in Zayn’s hair, his forehead pressed against his lower abdomen and his cock is so far down Liam’s throat; he bucks forward grinding his hips.
“Fuck, babe, so close,” he says, words punctuated and breathy.
Liam hums, pressing his face more before slowly pulling off and letting go with a sloppy ‘pop’. Zayn groans, so close to coming when he looks down to see a smug grin on his boyfriend’s face, he wants to punch him, because really? His cock bobs, it’s slicked with saliva and pre come, angry red and swollen. He kisses the tip, flicking his tongue over the slit and Zayn swears he can come just by Liam doing just that alone.
-
They’re panting, body sweltering against each other’s as they both lay there, Liam still on top of Zayn not planning on moving for a while as he hums to the beat of Zayn’s heart pounding in his chest where his head lies. Eyes heavily closing just from the soothing trace of Zayn’s fingers on his back and mostly from the post-coitus.
The bedroom is musty from the aroma of sex, cloudy from the cigarette Zayn is puffing on lackadaisically as he tilts his head upwards and exhales in small, messy o’s. The radio softly playing in the background and if this isn’t the best way to spend after an hour of deep, passionate, I-fucking-missed-you-so-much love making, then what is?
“Missed you a lot, you know.” He tells the boy lying under him, ghosting over his sternum with his bottom lip lazily.
Zayn knows because he missed Liam more than a lot, he spent countless nights over at Anthony and his girlfriend’s flat because his flat feels to cold and his bed feels bigger than it actually is, everywhere literally screams Liamwhen he trips over a barbell on his way to the closet and the fact that the whole top shelf is full of Liam’s stuffand sometimes it’s comforting and sometimes it’s lonely and he rather not spend time alone and drown in his thoughts. Even his Baba is surprised when Zayn stays over for as long as two weeks helping him out in the garage, because Yaser remembers his son words loud and clear that he hated this place and he was never coming back (except on birthdays and holidays).
“Me too, So much I don’t want you to leave Sunday. Don’t. Stay.” He replies, it’s a plea as he sucks on the cigarette for a second longer letting it invade his lung until his throat is dry for release and he breathes out through his nose and stubs out the filter to cuddle Liam closer to his chest.
Liam feels his chest tighten at the thickness in Zayn’s voice and how his arms wrap around him tightly as if he wasn’t really there and if he isif he doesn’t hold tight, he’ll somehow disappear. Then he remembers the Skype call a few weeks ago how Zayn’s big, amber eyes filled with tears when Liam said he couldn’t make it that weekend because he couldn’t get off work for three of the busiest days of the week. His watery, couldn’t-meet-his-eyes smile that he forced was like daggers through Liam’s heart, how chipped and thick with a sob his voice was when he said that he just misses him, is all.
Liam cried that night and the night after when Zayn stopped contact, not answering his phone and his text message, even signed out of Skype, Liam thought it was over then. But little did he know that Zayn was cuddled between his mum and baba because his bed was to cold and to unfamiliar. Liam wanted to leave, even if it meant losing his job; he didn’t want to stay in the shitty dorms as his roommate did nothing but give him pity looks and walk on eggshells around him and he most definitely didn’t want to work at the shitty cinema, that caused this whole mess, if his manager wasn’t such a bitch and let him have three days off, his boyfriend wouldn’t so distressed.
And when Karen called him during his break at work, where he did everything half-assed and gave all his co-workers and supervisors stink eyes because fuck, he was so irritated there, while his boyfriend still didn’t answer his mobile as much as he called in a row. Her voice is soft when she asked why he didn’t come down for the weekend off for Zayn. She remembered a overly happy Liam calling and spilling everything out in one breath on how he got cheap train tickets and he really wants to surprise Zayn because lately he’s been feeling not himself and lonely with Liam gone away.
Liam cried again in the break room, and quit the same night after Karen informed him that still Zayn wasn’t doing so good, when she had a chat with Trisha.
“I wish I could, babe,” he whispers in the warmth of Zayn’s neck, pressing lingering kisses there.
“I just hate that I know this weekend is going to go by so quickly.”
Liam frowns, “we can still make it worth it.”
“Yeah, well, that makes me feel a bit better. . .”
-
“This is nice.”
Now it’s a bit past six o’clock when they’re cuddling on the brown, tattered settee in the living room, the telly is on but mute as reruns of Skins plays, their half drunken teas long forgotten on the coffee table with a stack of comic books they were once readingor Zayn was and Liam just hummed and nuzzled in the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin as he only listened 50% of the time. Liam’s barely on the couch as he hovers over Zayn, their legs intertwined as Liam presses his cheek against Zayn’s.
“Yeah, missed your cuddles,” Liam replies, leaning up so his can cross his arms over Zayn’s chest and rest his chin on the top of his backhand, “like so bloody much that sometimes I feel like dropping out of uni.”
“And Skyping and talking on the phone isn’t always enough. But then I remember that it took me a lot of studying and staying up late after work to get me into uni, so then I’m like, nah!”
They both burst into a hearty guffaw, their cheeks rising up until their eyes are crinkled, and Liam’s face turning a rosy pink as he drops his face onto Zayn’s chest.
“I can’t even be mad.” His laughing is dying down, and then he asks Liam how school is doing, and if he’s still taking those boxing lessons.
School is great, Liam tells him with a wide smile, because there’s one more year before he graduates and his professor has some programs that’ll be good for him until he’s ready for a real job, at least he’ll have experience. He’s ending those boxing lessons slowly because nobody bothers him anymore, and because he looks like a fucking beast but he’s just a big ass teddy bear. Liam makes sure to slip in that he quit his job at the cinema, Zayn raises curious brows but Liam doesn’t go into details and he’s grateful that Zayn decides to drop it.
“What about you? Me’ mum told me that you got back into writing? Are you rethinking about going back to school?”
Zayn shakes his head vigorously, “no, no, no! Just something to occupy my brain since around in the flat is boring and rather deafening.” Zayn shrugs nonchalantly, looking down at Liam with a light smile playing on his lips, “and it’s mostly short, rubbish comics. Got back into drawing too, was back home and baba brought out my old art book.”
Liam smiles at that too, he never really got chances to see Zayn’s art or writing because he was so insecure about it. But the ones (mostly the ones that he good grades on in school) he did get to see and read were so amazing, he really believes that his boyfriend has so much raw talent and he’s not even being bias. There was even a time—no times, where the Headmaster asked Zayn to come up and make the murals around the school for extra credit but of course he turned them down, even when his mum slapped him over the head for passing up an opportunity like that, and his baba shook his head a bit disappointed.
“They’ll turn out rubbish and there’s no point,” he said, “’m not an artist.”
“That’s actually really great because I know you like that stuff. The drawing and writing.”
“Well yeah, I guess. But don’t think you’ll be able to get a peek.” He chuckles when Liam juts out his bottom lip and puts on his infamous puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes and all.
“Even if I suck your dick andclean?”
Zayn smirks biting down on his bottom lip, nodding, “even if you do that.”
Liam shakes his head laughing into Zayn’s chest, “what if I accidentally find them? Would you be mad?”
“Nope,” he replies popping out the ‘p’, “because you won’t be able to find them, anyway.”
“Wanna bet on it?”
“Everything’s a bet with you, never give the betting a break.”
-
Zayn looks over to where Liam is seated on the kitchen countertop; he’s focused on his iPhone, sliding his thumb over the screen intently with his eyebrows knitted. Zayn cranes his neck a bit to see what has his boyfriend undivided attention, he’s through endless amount of stir-fry recipes; Zayn bursts into a fit of laugher before yanking the mobile device out of Liam’s hand.
“Are you serious? Searching how to make stir-fries?”
The younger boy reaches out for his phone in a child-like motion as he bashfully hides his cheeks into his shoulders; Zayn shakes his head amusingly, adoringly as he chuckles some. “I don’t wanna eat shit food; you know I can’t cook even if my life depended on it. Now give me back my phone,” he replies making grabby hands towards his phone just for Zayn to be a jerk and pull his arm back so the device is more out of Liam’s reach.
Zayn exchanges the mobile in the other hand when Liam pulls on it and reeling it into him with strength Zayn cannot compete with. Damn those Boxing Lessons, they done Liam well. He sulks then and Zayn discards the phone in the back pocket of his jeans, crossing his arms over his chest Liam juts out his bottom lips and Zayn sees the opportunity and flicks it.
“As if I’ll let you cook in the kitchen, you burnt water last time I let you near my stove.”
Liam suppresses a laugh that wants to escape his mouth as he pouts more, looking like a real kicked-puppy, “it was your fault really, you were distracting me.” He says as he wraps his legs around Zayn’s torso and drags him into the open space between his thighs.
Zayn ends up making a quick chicken stir-fry with the left over BBQ chicken he had from the other days dinner and with the help of Liam, cutting up vegetables rather slowly (“they have to be cut the same size or they won’t cook evenly”), and Zayn knows he heard that nonsense from Harry; but lets him carry on as he dices up the cucumber with intense concentration and his tongue poking out from between his teeth.
-
“Would you quit moving so much?” he grits out for the third time in the last ten minutes, he looks beyond his sketchpad with raised brows as Liam stops mid-through rubbing his eyes tiredly.
He whines childishly with his lips forming into a pout, and Zayn tells him to stay still again. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, ‘m so sleepy.” He yawns then, stretching out his limbs as he was sitting in one spot for more than an hour and Zayn sketched him numerous of times but he wouldn’t tell Liam that.
“Plus you won’t even let me see it, it’s only fair that the art gets to sleep,” he says crawling up the double-sized mattress, Zayn holds his art book to his chest as Liam situates between his legs up on his knees grabbing then chucking the art book to the side and smirking when it tilts off the bed onto the floor with a small thud.
He looks back up, chewing on his bottom lip with his eyebrow peaking up a little as his deep brown eyes doesn’t seem all that tired-looking anymore, and it has a glint of mischief and hint of cheekiness in them as well. Zayn notices with his eyes widening deliberately in coquettishness; but of course he notices when there is redness invading Liam’s cheeks and he has to pull him in by his legs before Liam gets to embarrassed, even though, Liam is quite the naughty one.
“What do you want?” he questions lowly, breath fanning over the sweet spot just below Liam’s jawbone. “I thought you were tired, I guess not anymore?”
He feels him shake his head before bending back his head to the side so Zayn has more access to nip his teeth down onto the flesh.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want but like. If you want, we can.”
Zayn peppers sweet kisses down Liam’s neck, pulling him up on his lap and wrapping his arms around him also, “you wanna fuck again?” his voice is deeper and tantalizingly slow. He knows the affect he has on the younger boy so he uses it to his advantage, guiding one of his hands to palm the boy’s ass giving it a tight squeeze to let a soft moan slip from Liam’s sinful mouth.
“Yes,” and it comes out as a choke, when he feels the warm hand of his boyfriend travel down into his boxer-shorts slowly and teasingly. He bucks out his ass as Zayn cups it again, pinching the skin between his fingers before he trails his hand down Liam’s bum, finger ghosting over his clenching rim; he gasps on a whine as his thighs automatically spreads wider and he’s grinding slow and stiff into his boyfriend’s groin, just feeling Zayn grow harder underneath him makes him fall apart.
He circles the outside of Liam’s rim, just to tease, to feel how needy his boyfriend is for only his fingers. He’s shuddering in pure anticipation, biting down into Zayn’s shoulder just from barely foreplay, pushing out his ass more making his hole gaps as cool breeze passes it. And Zayn presses his thumb down to the tight ring of muscle, rubbing it until the boy above is a panting, whiny mess because even if they just done it hours ago, it’s still been so long.
And just in a short twenty minutes Liam is coming hard on his stomach, head lolled back, mouth formed in a large ‘O’ shape as he moans silently; his back is arched and lifted off of the bed, nipples erected in the air and his body is shaking uncontrollably and his thighs are quivering on top of Zayn’s shoulders.
“Stop, stop, please, oh my, stop –” Liam strings out breathlessly, clenching the sheets with his nails dug into the mattress as Zayn continues to prod and lick at his hole, Liam can feel him smirking proudly before he raises his head and his fingers loosen the tight hold they had on his hips. His chest falls heavily as his eyes slowly start to flutter open, he watches through blurry eyes Zayn smirking at him from in between his thighs as he wipes across his bottom lip with his thumb.
“Why’d you stop, continue, more, please more!”
Zayn chuckles pressing his lips softly to the boy’s inner thigh, swirls his tongue on one of the love-bites he left there earlier; Liam lowly hisses, clamping his legs close.
“’M getting hard again,” Liam laughs into his hands as he covers his face.
Zayn kisses the spot once more then creeps up the younger boy’s body, fists pressed down into the mattress on each side of Liam’s head, “look at me you dork.”
Once Liam removes his hands from his face, Zayn steals a quick kiss on his lips before laughing his way to the lavatory to get a wet flannel to wipe down Liam from his mess.
The night is peacefully quiet; the crescent moon hanging blindingly bright in the endless inky indigo sky, glittered with twinkling stars. The soft swish of the breeze coming through the open window and dancing on their sweating skin as they tangling into each other; Liam feels the smile Zayn’s lips press on his flesh as his eyes flutter close and sleep takes him.
-
Somewhere between 4:45 and 5 o’clock in the morning Liam is growling deep and indignantly in throat, weakly and tiredly tugging the duvet from underneath Zayn’s limp and still body.
“Zee, ‘m cold, lift up,” he yawns, voice chipped and raspy as he starts to crawl over to Zayn’s side of the bed and gently rub his face to wake him.
“Go ‘way,” he swats towards Liam, stirring around more into the covers, Liam whines.
“Its fookin’ freezing and you are being a right hog with the entire blanket, mate.”
The older lad groans loudly before he starts to sit up lousily in the bed, shrugging off the blanket and stretching out his limps as he turns and scowls at the boy who sits in the middle of the bed crossed-legged and looking more innocent than he’s suppose too, he rolls his eyes and lifts his arm up and beckons Liam to get under.
“You’re so bloody annoying.”
Liam smiles droopily, rolling under and fitting himself right next Zayn. And it’s so amazing how they fit so perfectly together, their bodies pressed firmly against one another as Liam nuzzles his nose in the crook of Zayn’s neck and how their legs slot and tangle.
“Sorry.”
He hums lips softly on Liam’s cool skin and he lazily kisses him, “go to fucking sleep, Liam, it’s too early for this.”
~
To be continued . . .
~