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“I thought you wanted to actually watch this film?” Zayn whispers, even as he cocks his head to the side to present more of his neck to Liam’s warm, soft lips.
Zayn can feel Liam’s mouth twist into a smile against his skin, and his arm tightens around Zayn’s waist, trying to pull their bodies closer, even though Zayn’s been firmly planted in Liam’s lap since the opening credits started rolling. “I am watching,” Liam assures him before he catches Zayn’s earlobe in a gentle nibble. “I think he’s the bad guy.”
Zayn watches the man on the screen, the character seemingly innocuous and painfully underdeveloped, and he privately agrees with Liam’s theory. “Still, it’s gonna be over soon. Let’s just finish it, yeah?”
Truth be told, Zayn’s delighting a bit in the simple domesticity of the night, and he’s reluctant for this part of it to end. He likes being home, cuddled up with Liam on his old, beat-up couch, while watching this predictable thriller and digesting the meal they had cooked together earlier in the evening, Liam having helped him cut the vegetables and measure the spices.
He especially likes knowing that once the film ends Liam is going to stay the night, because it’s not a question anymore; Liam just knows that Zayn wants him to stay, so he does. Their relationship having progressed into something serious without Zayn having even realised it was happening.
“Yeah, alright,” Liam agrees, but he doesn’t stop mouthing along Zayn’s neck. Instead he lays hot, open-mouthed kisses across Zayn’s skin, stopping to nose behind his ear. Liam’s breath is warm and damp where he pauses his mouth, lips ghosting across the back of Zayn’s jaw before Liam licks the patch of skin behind his ear, tongue wet and heavy. The attention makes goose bumps prickle across Zayn’s skin and he has to bite his lip to stop a whimper from tumbling over his lips at the sensation.
Liam smooths a hand down Zayn’s t-shirt clad belly and then palms against his soft cock through the thick denim of his jeans, squeezing gentle, trying to pique Zayn’s arousal. “You’re rather bad at this film watching thing, aren’t you?” Zayn teases, keeping his eyes on the television in an attempt to ignore Liam’s efforts, even as he feels his dick start to perk up against the pressure of Liam’s hand.
“Nah,” Liam says, turning his face to muffle a chuckle into Zayn’s hair. “I’m quite good at it actually. Better than you even, ‘cause I can multi-task.” Liam shuffles his legs from where they’re tangled with Zayn’s on the coffee table in front of them, catching Zayn’s ankles with his own and spreading their legs wide.
A chase scene unfolds on the screen in front of them, fast cars speeding through dark city streets, the sound of artificial gunshots seeping out of Zayn’s cheap speakers, tinny and crackling from the volume being set too high. But Zayn’s having a hard time concentrating on all that, not that he’d let Liam know it, because Liam’s cupping him more firmly through his trousers, palm insistent and pressing against the shape of Zayn’s filling cock.
“I can multi-task,” Zayn argues, but it comes out weak when Liam moves to unbutton the clasp on Zayn’s jeans, pulling down the zip and gripping Zayn over his briefs.
“Good to hear, babe.” Zayn would roll his eyes at the mollifying note in Liam’s voice if he wasn’t already caught up in pressing his hips into Liam’s hand, trying for more friction.
Liam jerks Zayn through the material of his pants, his cock plumping fully and precum starting to dampen the white material. The musky scent of his own arousal reaches his nose, and his cheeks heat at the knowledge that Liam can probably smell him too.
Thick fingers reach into the fly of his pants and Liam grips him firmly, palm warm and rough against his sensitive flesh, and Zayn lets a shaky breath escape his lips at the contact.
“Feel good?” Liam asks, lips still dancing along Zayn’s neck and Zayn nods in response. “Then let me hear you, babe.”
Liam strokes him faster and Zayn catches the groan that rumbles in his throat, stopping it before it turns into an embarrassing moan. “Feels good, Li. Don’t stop,” he whispers it, his voice overshadowed some by a sudden explosion of sound from the telly.
“You’re always so quiet like this,” Liam says against his ear, thumbing over the head of Zayn’s prick before fisting his length fully again, knuckles moving prominent under the thin cotton of Zayn’s briefs. “What do I have to do for you to get loud, huh?”
“I – I don’t know,” Zayn gasps, as Liam twists his wrist just right. He feels the need to defend himself, even as an uncomfortable ache settles in his gut at the prospect of Liam not being wholly pleased with their sex, of him being disappointed by Zayn. “I’ve never been loud in bed. Do you not like it?”
The hand on his prick stops working him over, but Liam doesn’t pull away. “I like anything you’ll give me, if I’m being honest,” Liam says, and Zayn has to turn his head up awkwardly to look at him, but he wants to see Liam’s face, wants to read his level of sincerity.
Liam’s eyes are soft, and he lets Zayn study him for a moment before he leans in to press their mouths together. Zayn indulges him, lets their lips slide against each other until his neck starts to ache from the strange angle. He breaks the kiss with a few gentle pecks, but keeps their faces close, eyes closed. “But you’d like it better if I were louder?” It comes out as more of a statement than a question, but he still wants Liam to give him an answer.
“I’d like it better if you didn’t try so hard to hold back,” Liam counters, voice gentle. “You don’t have to do that with me.”
“I didn’t realise I was,” Zayn says, turning from Liam as tears start to tickle the back of his throat.
Liam kisses his temple and pulls his hand out from Zayn’s briefs. “I’ve ruined the moment, haven’t I?”
“No, you didn’t,” Zayn placates, even as he’s unhooking his legs from Liam’s, and standing, moving away some. He’s not sure how he feels exactly, because he’s still turned on, but he’s also nervous now in a way that he hasn’t been with Liam since right after they started dating.
Liam pulls his own feet from the coffee table so he can lean forward enough to get a hand around Zayn’s wrist, stopping him from pulling away farther. “I did. And I’m sorry.” Liam tugs lightly on Zayn’s wrist until Zayn’s moving toward him again. “C’mere,” Liam appeals, hands on Zayn’s hips, guiding him until Zayn’s back in Liam’s lap, face to face now, his knees bracketing Liam’s thighs.
Liam’s face is crinkled with apprehension and Zayn reaches up to smooth the lines out of his furrowed brow. “No need to be sorry,” Zayn says, trying to keep his voice cavalier but avoiding Liam’s eyes. “You’re just saying what you feel.”
“I meant it, though, what I said about liking whatever you’ll give me.”
“Yeah?” Zayn presses, wanting Liam to reassure him because he knows he’ll need to refer to this moment when he’s doubting himself later.
“Yeah,” Liam nods, cupping Zayn’s face and bringing their lips together for a brief kiss. When Liam pulls back his eyes meet Zayn’s, his gaze serious. “I like how you make these little gasping noises when something feels good. Like, when I’m sucking you off and you get real deep, and your breath catches every time you hit the back of my throat.” Liam pauses, groan rumbling over his lips, “God, I love that.”
Liam’s mouth trails over Zayn’s neck as he speaks and his hand snakes back into Zayn’s briefs to stroke his prick where he’s gone a bit soft.
“And I love the way your voice sounds when you’re on my cock, tellin’ me you’re gonna cum. It’s like, rougher, breathless. Overwhelmed, like. I love that I can make you sound like that. That I get to hear you sound like that,” Liam says, voice earnest while he twists his hand, palming the wet head of Zayn’s cock just right, then wringing down his length again.
“Li,” Zayn whines, hips jerking up, meeting Liam’s fist.
“Fuck, and I love it when you say my name like that. Like you’re desperate for me, babe. I don’t want anyone else to ever hear you like that again,” Liam says, possessive teeth nipping against Zayn’s throat. “Just me.”
Zayn nods his agreement, because yeah, maybe they haven’t talked about their future yet, and maybe Zayn’s still too nervous to be the first one to say out loud that what exists between them is love, but like this, it’s easy to agree, to let Liam know that he wants that too. Wants it to be just them. Possibly forever.
“Why don’t we go to bed, babe?” Liam asks, hand slowing its movement, pulling away.
“No. There’s stuff there, in the side table,” Zayn replies, shifting his hips down against Liam’s neglected erection, causing Liam to suck in a breath. He’s starting to feel desperate from all the attention on his dick. “Just fuck me here. I’ll ride you, yeah?” Zayn says, because he may be quiet when it comes to vocalising his pleasure, but he’s never been shy about stating what he wants. He leans toward the arm of the couch, reaching out to pull open the drawer of the side table and barely gets his fingers around the handle before Liam is grabbing his hand, linking their fingers and drawing Zayn’s attention back onto him.
“I’d rather we take our time, if that’s alright with you?” Liam asks, corner of his mouth turned up and eyes sparkling, like he knows he’s going to get his way. “Wanna explore your body ‘til I figure out what’ll make you scream. Want you to feel so good, you won’t have it in you to censor yourself anymore.”
The words wash over Zayn and burrow under his skin, the sentiment and Liam’s gentle gaze working together to break up the uncomfortable ball of nerves that had settled in his stomach earlier. Liam brings their intertwined hands to his mouth, lips dragging slow over Zayn’s knuckles and dark eyes peering up through thick lashes. “S’ that alright?”
“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, feeling dazed and pushing himself off of Liam. He manages to stand but the sudden movement makes him dizzy, too much blood having rushed away from his brain whilst he’d been sat in Liam’s lap. Liam stands immediately as well, hands steadying on Zayn’s hips before he’s crowding himself against Zayn’s back, walking them toward the bedroom.
When they make it there, Liam turns the small lamp by the bed on, casting a soft glow on the mess that makes up Zayn’s bedroom. Clothes are discarded on the floor, rough pencil sketches pulled from notebooks litter his small desk, and books are piled on the floor, overflow from the jam-packed bookcase that sits in the corner.
He takes in a quick appraisal of the room, thinking for a moment that he probably should have picked up a bit since he knew Liam would be staying the night, but he never has it in him to care. Doesn’t really have a problem with Liam seeing his mess, even if it is likely reflecting a lot of himself, maybe too much of himself. He kind of wants Liam to see.
And Liam never seems to mind it, is always respectful of Zayn’s mess, making sure to gingerly step over the shoes and clothes and papers as he goes; never disrupting, never disapproving.
Liam stands in front of him at the side of the bed, hands trailing under Zayn’s shirt, pulling the hem up as they go, until Zayn lifts his arms so Liam can get it off, dropping it to the floor with everything else. Zayn’s jeans follow swiftly, already undone and hanging loose off his hips, before Liam is hooking his fingers along the elastic of his briefs, tugging until they’re pooling at his ankles with his jeans.
Zayn steps out of his clothes, toeing off his socks as he goes, then reaches for the button on Liam’s trousers. They get Liam’s clothes off together, Zayn spending more time trailing his hands over Liam’s exposed skin than actually helping, loving the rough feel against his palms of the coarse hair that litters Liam’s body.
Liam kisses him when they’re done, tongues soft and moving languidly, tasting more than anything, hard bodies pressed together tightly until Liam breaks away, nosing along Zayn’s cheek. “C’mon, get on the bed.”
He turns to obey, kneeing onto his mattress and pushing the bunched up duvet out of the way to crawl to the head of the bed. Before he can turn to lie on his back Liam’s pressing against him, gentle palms guiding him until he’s lying on his stomach, legs spread to accommodate Liam’s kneeling form and head turned to the side, resting against one of his too flat pillows.
Warm hands rest at Zayn’s waist as Liam leans forward, hovering above him, lips caressing his cheek. “I’m gonna wreck you, Zayn.” Zayn tries to stifle the moan that bubbles in his throat at that, but he knows Liam hears it, can feel the smile that breaks across his face before he delivers a peck to the corner of Zayn’s mouth and pulls away.
A shiver runs across Zayn’s back at the sudden loss of Liam’s blanketing heat. He keeps his eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of Liam’s palms smoothing down his hips, over his bum, and down to his legs, before Liam’s tongue is on his skin, wet warmth dragging over the back of his left thigh. Liam takes his time, sucking and nibbling down his leg, and it feels good, the attention, but his cock is sitting hard under him and he can think of about five different ways Liam could be putting his mouth to better use.
Calloused fingertips caress his calf and Liam’s mouth moves to the back of his knee, soft lips barely making contact with his skin at first but it’s enough to send a jolt of pleasure through him, his muscles jumping at the contact. “Fuck, Liam. Do that again.”
Liam does, brushes his lips against the same spot before raking his teeth against it, and this time Zayn whimpers at the contact and grinds his hips into the mattress. Liam keeps at it, emboldened by Zayn’s reaction, swirling his tongue, sucking, nibbling at his skin, and the whole time Zayn feels like he’s on edge already, like he could actually cum from this, from rutting against his bed sheets with Liam sucking the back of his knee, and it feels so good he doesn’t really think that he cares.
But Liam stops, lips leaving his skin abruptly and Zayn takes a second to breathe, to get his composure back before he asks, “Why’d you stop?”
“Need to see if the other is the same,” Liam states, like it’s obvious. He thumbs across the back Zayn’s right knee, tickling the skin there and Zayn huffs out a laugh, squirming out of Liam’s grasp on reflex. Liam lifts his thumb away but tries again with his mouth, keeps his lips light, and it’s worse, the tickling feeling, and Zayn’s kicking out of Liam’s hold again, trying to escape it, more laughter on his lips.
“Sorry. Sorry, it just tickles,” he gasps out his apology, having kicked Liam in the side during his light struggle to avoid the sensation. But Liam’s laughing too, eyes crinkling with the force of his smile and shaking his head at Zayn’s words.
“No worries, love,” Liam assures, leaning back over Zayn to nuzzle his cheek, molding their bodies together so Zayn can feel the sweatiness of Liam’s chest against his skin and the heaviness of Liam’s prick against his arse.
“You ready to fuck me yet? We can move on now that you’ve discovered my ticklish knee, yeah?” Zayn questions with a left over giggle, bending his arm up to scratch his fingers against Liam’s scalp.
Liam hums in pleasure, tilts his head to give Zayn more of his head to scratch. “Did you know about that before? About the other one, I mean, the not ticklish one?”
“Uh-uh,” Zayn hums in response. Liam’s weight is heavy above him, pressing him into the mattress, and he briefly thinks it should be smothering, but instead he kind of likes the feeling of being trapped by him.
“Good,” Liam says, kissing across Zayn’s skin, lips moving to the back of his neck. “I like being the only one who knows that about you.”
The words make Zayn’s belly swoop with excited nerves. “I like it too,” he whispers.
Liam’s teeth are sharp against the knots of Zayn’s spine while his tongue is gentle, kissing and nipping his way down Zayn’s body and settling into the space between Zayn’s spread legs. Zayn watches him over his shoulder, sweaty hair curling at the top of his head, strong back curving as Liam bends over Zayn’s body, not letting his lips disconnect from Zayn’s skin.
Liam places a kiss at the very base of Zayn’s spine, lips wet and swollen and sucking lightly at the spot right above the slight swell of his bum. Zayn hums out a moan.
“You like havin’ your salad tossed, babe?” Liam asks, licking a playful stripe along the smooth skin of one of his arse cheeks. Liam’s hands are firm on his hips, thumbs rubbing circles against Zayn’s skin and Liam flicks his eyes up to Zayn’s, a cheeky grin on his face.
“I don’t know,” Zayn tells him, earnest, because no one’s ever put their mouth on him like that before. He’s never wanted anyone to. But Liam makes him want things he’s never wanted, and feel things he’s never felt, makes him want to take the next step with him, in every sense, even if he’s a bit nervous at the prospect. “No one’s ever...”
“Can I?” Liam questions, keen, fingers curling to dig slightly into Zayn’s skin. Liam keeps their eye contact, his gaze steady and tender, and Zayn knows he’d back off in an instant if he asked him to. But he’s finding that he doesn’t really want him to.
“Yeah, yes,” Zayn agrees, nodding, and Liam’s bright smile calms the nerves dancing in his stomach.
Liam props himself onto his elbows and then palms Zayn’s arse, spreading and kneading his cheeks, and even though Liam’s been between Zayn’s legs before, a couple dozen times at least, this already feels more intimate than any other time.
The first touch of Liam’s warm tongue against his hole is unexpectedly good and Zayn has to press his face into his pillow to muffle the sound that escapes his throat, needy and guttural. The knowledge alone that Liam is tasting his most private spot making pleasure spike deep in his gut.
Liam keeps to kitten licks at first, testing Zayn’s reaction with a light fluttering against his sensitive rim, a teasing pleasure. “Shit, Liam. More.” It comes out as a groan, and he sounds desperate already, but he can’t be arsed to care. Especially when Liam does as he’s asked, abandons the gentle tonguing and lets his heavy tongue lash insistent against Zayn’s opening, trading back and forth between sucking and licking.
It feels so good, the warm and wet from Liam’s mouth paired with the rough scratching from the stubble that lines Liam’s jaw, and he finds himself pressing back against Liam’s face. And Liam lets him, keeps his tongue flat, a firm and steady presence for Zayn to rock against. He feels like he could cum like this with a bit more time, now that he’s been worked up for so long. He spreads his legs more, struggling to get his knees underneath him while trying to not upset Liam’s face from its place between his cheeks, wanting more leverage, and whining low when he can’t find it.
Liam pulls his face away at that and it only makes Zayn more frustrated. “Don’t stop, Li,” Zayn begs, finally able to get onto his knees, back arched and bum lifting into the air. He feels impatient and wanton, presenting himself to Liam like he’s a piece of meat on a platter waiting to be devoured, but it’s worth it, seeing the look on Liam’s face that tells him that devouring him is exactly what Liam wants as well. “More, Liam. Please.”
Hungry eyes rove over Zayn’s body and Liam looks like he might give in before he’s saying, “Not right now, babe,” and patting Zayn lightly on the bum. “Roll over for me. That’s it. Onto your back.”
Zayn goes without question, easily giving into Liam’s command.
“Good boy,” Liam says, and there’s a teasing lilt to his voice but the words still make Zayn tremble with pleasure. Liam notices, because he always notices, is always observing and cataloguing. Shelving away all the things he picks up only to bring them out again when Zayn least expects it. Like the time he dropped by after Zayn texted him that he’d had a rough day just to bring Zayn his favourite flavour of ice cream, or the morning he brought Zayn coffee from the place that’s out of the way of both of their flats because Zayn had once mentioned he liked that they brew it with rose water and cardamom.
So, Zayn’s sure Liam notices, but Liam doesn’t comment, just leans down to press their lips together again while Zayn settles onto his back, legs spreading easily onto either side of him.
Liam’s lips trace over the skin of Zayn’s neck, stopping to suck against the spots he knows are sensitive, having discovered Zayn’s weakness for neck kisses weeks ago. His mouth follows the curve of Zayn’s shoulder, lips and tongue kissing their way down his bicep before Liam turns his attention to Zayn’s chest to do the same.
Liam lavishes attention upon Zayn’s skin, alert to every gasp and shiver, doubling back when he finds a spot that makes Zayn whimper.
Liam’s fingers never stop moving, lightly outlining the indents of his ribs, catching in the coarse hair on his belly, flicking over the hard jut of his nipples. His hands and tongue and lips and teeth are everywhere and Liam has him squirming against the sheets, his cock leaking steady against his abdomen, neglected, despite all the ways Liam is touching him.
Firm hands find their way to Zayn’s hips, gripping tight and holding him steadfastly against the mattress. Liam’s mouth continues its torturous trail to lick along the juncture where his thigh and groin meet, nipping lightly at the skin there. “Touch me, babe,” Zayn whimpers, weaving his fingers into Liam’s hair and tugging gentle to make his urgency clear. “C’mon.”
Liam turns his head toward where Zayn’s prick sits, breath ghosting against it, Zayn’s hips twitching in Liam’s hold, eager to find friction. Liam gives in, licking a broad stripe up Zayn’s cock, starting at its base and ending at the tip where he laps up the wetness there. Zayn does moan at that, couldn’t keep it in if he tried really, the relief of Liam’s mouth finally on him like finding water in the desert.
Liam mouths back down his length, red lips and pink tongue working their way over his balls, sucking each into his mouth, gentle, teasing, before he moves along Zayn’s inner thigh.
“Please, Liam,” Zayn begs. “Please, I wanna cum.” He feels frantic and strung tight, his blood rushing through his veins at light speed and every nerve in his body on fire.
Liam doesn’t move away from Zayn’s skin when he speaks, his chapped lips and rough beard dragging across the thin skin of his inner thigh, “Don’t worry.” Zayn can hear, rather than see, the smirk Liam is wearing. “You’re gonna cum.”
Zayn nods, takes a deep breath and tries to get his body back under control, willing his heart rate to slow and his muscles to relax.
The condoms and lubricant are kept in the table by the bed, and Liam detaches his lips from Zayn’s skin long enough to retrieve them before he settles back between the spread of Zayn’s thighs, kneeling there. Zayn watches him wet his fingers, wiping the excess lube from his auxiliary hand onto his own leg, the hairs on his thigh sticking together from the slick.
Zayn snorts, laughing out, “You can wipe it on the sheets, y’know. It’ll come out in the wash.”
Liam giggles too, chin tilting toward his shoulder with slight embarrassment. “I didn’t want to just mess up your sheets.” He shrugs, running a lubed finger around Zayn’s rim while his other hand finds the back of Zayn’s thigh to push his leg against his torso, spreading him out more, giving Liam room.
Liam watches his own finger trace along Zayn’s hole, wetting him on the outside before pressing in with a continuous, slow pressure. Zayn keeps his body relaxed and lets Liam in. Liam takes his time to prepare him, adding a second finger slowly, scissoring and swirling the digits, getting Zayn wet and ready.
Liam is diligent about avoiding his prostate, every press of his fingers careful to miss the knot of nerves, even as Zayn swivels his hips against Liam’s hand, searching for a bit of attention. But Liam knows better by now, knows that Zayn can cum from just riding his fingers, from just letting Liam rub deep inside him until he’s cumming without a hand on his prick, and that’s not how Liam wants things to end tonight.
He extracts his fingers slowly, making a show of wiping the excess wetness on the bedsheets before opening a condom wrapper and rolling the latex over his length. He opens the cap on the lube, slicking himself generously and tosses the bottle to the side.
When Liam presses into him, his body stretches at the intrusion in the most pleasant way. Liam filling him up, dick heavy and hot inside of him, pressing in deep before sliding back out.
“Put your hands on my shoulders, babe,” Liam says, and Zayn complies, unquestioningly, fingers digging into the meat of Liam’s back. “Don’t want you to touch yourself. I want you to cum just like this. Think you can do that for me?”
“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, nodding, wanting that too.
Liam thrusts gentle inside him, hips knocking lightly against his arse, setting a teasing pace, hard length rubbing slowly against his insides. Liam takes his time to work him open with his cock, measured thrusts sending radiating waves of pleasure over his body.
Zayn’s hand leaves its post on Liam’s shoulder to cup his face instead. Liam’s panting hard through his mouth, plump bottom lip chapped and Zayn’s mesmerised by it, wants their lips to connect so he can suck it into his mouth; sooth over the chapped skin with his tongue and feel Liam’s harsh breath against his mouth. He curls his fingertips behind Liam’s ear and tugs gently, silently asking for Liam to lean in close.
When their mouths meet Zayn groans because Liam’s kisses always feel so good, like their mouths were made to slot together. Liam explores his mouth with his tongue, languidly fucking it past Zayn’s lips, matching the lazy roll of his hips and Zayn welcomes it. Loves Liam filling him like this, giving Zayn his entire focus. Liam makes him feel like they’re the only two people on the planet, and sometimes he gets lost in the feel of their bodies rubbing together, his own hips rutting down, chasing the feeling of Liam deep inside him.
Liam pulls his lips away and Zayn can’t help the whine that leaves him, his fingers curling against the back of Liam’s neck in an effort to get him to stay close. A quick peck against his lips is all Liam gives him though, before he’s pulling back.
Strong arms pull Zayn’s legs away from where they’d settled around Liam’s hips, pushing them back until Zayn’s almost bent in half, his knees curled around Liam’s biceps. Liam leans forward, holding himself over Zayn with his palms flat on the bed and screwing his hips in deep. Zayn’s trapped like this, completely at Liam’s mercy, unable to move against the hold of Liam’s muscular arms and the weight of his thick cock.
“You feelin’ good, babe?” Liam asks, thrusting harder and Zayn thinks he can see Liam’s resolve to take this slow breaking. “You alright like this?”
“Yes,” Zayn tries to say, but it comes out as a strangled whimper when Liam thrusts up, hardness nailing his prostate. “Fuck, right there, Liam.”
Liam’s relentless after that, thrusting quick and deliberate, never letting up off his sweet spot; the pleasure almost painful in its intensity and Zayn knows he would be squirming away from the constant pressure if he wasn’t so completely immobilised. He can feel his prick leaking wetness against his belly, his orgasm building steadily, and he digs his fingers against Liam’s skin so he’s not tempted to wrap a hand around himself, focusing on Liam’s cock inside of him instead.
Shivers of pleasure roll over his skin when his orgasm hits, chanting Liam’s name on a loop as his cock jerks, spurting white against his belly and up his chest. Liam’s hips slow to a stop when the high from Zayn’s orgasm subsides and he pulls out, arms unhooking from Zayn’s knees and Zayn lets his limbs sag onto the mattress, limp and shaking from the leftover shocks of his orgasm.
Liam’s still hard when he rolls the condom off of himself and chucks it toward the bin, giving himself a few loose tugs. Zayn reaches for him, wanting to help, to touch, but Liam grasps his hand, pressing it against the mattress. “No.” He’s smiling and positioning himself above Zayn again, hovering there. “I’m not done with you yet.” His voice is low and rough, and Zayn’s breath hitches at the promise, his belly tightening in anticipation.
“I don’t know if I can take anymore,” Zayn replies, and he’s more than half serious. He feels drained, tired, and completely sated. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to give Liam more, even if he wants to.
Liam leans down to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, whispering words against his skin. “Thought you wanted to be my good boy, Zayn?”
A moan tumbles out of his lips, throat vibrating under Liam’s lips, and fuck if Liam’s words don’t make pleasant shivers run up his spine.
“That’s what I thought,” Liam says, mouth travelling down his torso, licking up spots of Zayn’s cum when he gets to them, until he’s level with Zayn’s dick which lays softening against his belly. His warm, pink tongue snakes past his lips to lap at the cum that’s dribbled out and Zayn hisses at the contact, hips jerking against the mattress, trying to pull away. “Do I have to hold you down, or are you going to be good for me?”
Zayn’s cock gives a painful jerk, Liam’s words affecting him in a way he didn’t think possible before tonight. “No, Li, I – I can be good for you,” Zayn insists, hoping that it’s true, wanting so badly for it to be true.
“I know you can be, babe,” Liam assures, like he’s reading Zayn’s worry. He presses a light kiss to the head of Zayn’s cock before dipping down between his thighs, settling onto his stomach, palms spreading his cheeks wide. “Pull your legs up.”
Zayn does as he’s told, using his hands to help bend his legs back, exposing himself more to Liam’s gaze. He takes a few deep breaths to steady his heartbeat while Liam looks at him, his hole clenching around nothing, missing the thickness of Liam’s length.
When Liam moves forward he noses under Zayn’s balls, lips caressing the sensitive strip of skin above his entrance before moving down. Plush lips press against him, Liam’s tongue licking against the slick that’s seeping out of him.
Liam licks over his hole with broad swipes, his head bobbing between Zayn’s legs and humming softly at the taste underneath his tongue, his thick beard rubbing rough against Zayn’s cheeks. He scrapes gentle with his teeth, a delicate brush against the puffy rim of Zayn’s entrance and Zayn chokes on a throaty moan, his cock plumping up again. Liam soothes over the spot with his tongue, a soft apology for the tiny bit of roughness.
When Liam licks into him, deeply, Zayn practically sobs, arms coming up to cover his face to muffle the sound.
Liam pulls his tongue out abruptly so he can speak. “Don’t do that. Don’t cover up.” Zayn takes his arms away to look at Liam, their eyes meeting over the length of his body. “I wanna hear you, yeah?”
Zayn nods, letting his arms rest on the mattress instead.
“Here,” Liam says, reaching for the bottle of lube and handing it off to him. “Touch yourself. I want you to cum again.”
Zayn’s stomach clenches at the thought, unsure that he’ll be able to, but Liam’s eyes are still on him, warm and fond, and he wants to try. Liam watches him pour lubricant into his palm before wrapping a tentative fist around his still tender cock. He tenses at the first contact, oversensitivity making him flinch, but he keeps his touch light, slicking himself.
“That’s it. Get yourself nice and wet.” Liam watches him for another beat, lips swollen and pupils blown wide. “You’re being so good for me, love,” Liam says before he dips his head down to get his mouth on him again, tongue licking into him without preamble.
It’s a lot. The warm, insistent press of Liam’s eager tongue and the heavy, wet heat of his own hand on his prick, making his stomach clench, his muscles shaking in painful pleasure. His hips shift against the mattress, both searching for and pulling away from all the sensations, and Liam reaches heavy arms up to keep him still.
Liam keeps his tongue stiff, fucking it into him, wet noises reaching Zayn’s ears with every push and pull of Liam’s mouth and he sobs at the feeling. He’s desperate to cum; desperate to release the tension that’s building in his gut and he grips himself tighter, tugging faster and pushing himself to a point that’s not wholly pleasurable, but that still feels so fucking good.
He works his hips against Liam’s face, moving against Liam’s grip, wanting to feel him deeper. He’s humming out loud moans each time Liam’s tongue fucks back into him, working his hand over himself to the pace that Liam has set.
“If you cum for me like this, maybe next time I’ll let you ride my face,” Liam says, just loud enough for Zayn to hear before he’s dipping his stiff tongue back into Zayn, and that’s all it takes for Zayn to finally tip over the edge, images of sitting on Liam’s tongue flashing in his mind.
He cums, strained moans escaping his lips and his vision going fuzzy with the force of his orgasm, Liam lapping against him until Zayn pushes at the top of his head to get him to stop.
His mind is all fog in the aftermath of his release and it takes him a moment to realise that Liam is now kneeling in the space between his still spread legs, hand working over his still stiff cock.
“Li,” he croaks, because his voice is wrecked and his throat is dry, and Liam’s eyes snap up, hand stroking faster when their eyes meet. “Liam, c’mere.”
Liam shuffles forward on his knees, and settles back on his haunches. He’s close enough now that Zayn goes to reach for him, but Liam presses him back down with a hand to his chest. “Can I just,” he starts to say, moving closer and resting the wet tip of his prick against Zayn’s spent sac.
Zayn agrees with a nod, and Liam starts again, jerking himself with quick, deliberate flicks of his wrist, rubbing his foreskin over the head of his cock and back down again, over and over until he’s releasing against Zayn’s skin, marking him. Zayn groans as Liam’s warm spunk coats his cock and balls, wetness dribbling down his crack, adding to the lube and spit that’s already covering his skin.
“C’mere,” Zayn commands when Liam stops spurting against him. Liam takes a steadying breath, then lays himself next to Zayn, hand coming up to caress the skin of his cheek, fingers grazing against the scruff there. “Kiss me.”
Liam complies, bringing their lips together, a simple press before he’s pulling away. Zayn whines at the loss. “I’ll be right back,” Liam says, rolling to the edge of the bed.
Zayn’s eyes are heavy though, closing before Liam’s feet hit the floor and he’s asleep before the heat from Liam’s mouth fully fades from his lips.
///
Zayn wakes when the sun is already high in the sky and bright rays are trickling through the gap in his curtains. The space next to him is empty, he can tell without opening his eyes, because Liam hardly ever sleeps in late with him.
Zayn lies under the warmth of the blankets, contemplating either trying for more sleep or getting up, the ache in his bladder making the latter seem like the better option.
He rolls off the bed, pulling on a pair of jogging bottoms and a hoodie that he collects from the pile on the floor. When he opens the door to the hallway, he smells cooking, smells cooking breakfast to be exact, his stomach grumbling at the scent and his feet bypassing the toilet to investigate. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t have anything in the fridge that would be useful in cooking breakfast, so he’s a bit curious.
When he comes around the corner to the kitchen, Liam’s back is to him, working at the stove over what smells like sausage, and humming to himself. Zayn watches him work, taking in the new carton of eggs and fresh loaf of bread on the counter, the coffee brewing in the cafetière.
“Good Morning,” Zayn says, announcing his presence before joining Liam at the stove, peeking over his shoulder at the frying pan. “Where’d you get all this?”
“I went to the supermarket this morning,” Liam says, shrugging before leaning in to peck a kiss to Zayn’s lips. “I was just about to wake you to see how you’d like your eggs.”
“Fried,” Zayn says as Liam tips the sausages on to a plate lined with kitchen paper. “I’ll have to pass on the sausage though.”
Liam sets the pan down and turns to Zayn, a pout developing on his features. “But I got turkey sausage. Is that not alright? I thought it would be.”
Of course he did, Zayn thinks, mentally kicking himself for doubting while a smile breaks on his face, “Yeah, that’s alright then.”
“Good.” Liam cups Zayn’s face and brings their lips together. He kisses Zayn slow and sweet, kisses him just for the sake of kissing him, and not because it’s going anywhere, but it still makes Zayn’s heart beat faster. Makes him feel weightless with happiness.
When Liam breaks the kiss he doesn’t pull away, just rests their foreheads together and keeps Zayn close, hands still cradling his face.
Zayn’s never been with anyone that can make him feel both grounded and off balance at the same time, both settled and dizzy. It’s addicting, and he’s sure he never wants to give that up, never wants to give Liam up. The feeling has the words sneaking past his lips before his brain can catch up enough to stop them, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Liam replies, simple, with no hesitation, brushing their lips together again and Zayn lets out a breath of relief. Liam gives him a soft smile and a light pat on the bum, nudging him toward the cupboard with the mugs inside. “Now, can you pour the coffee? It’s going to get bitter.”
And he does as he’s told, pouring the coffee into mugs, a ridiculous smile stuck to his face and looking over his shoulder to watch Liam cracking eggs into the hot pan.
Zayn watches him, the sound of the eggs sizzling loudly in the quiet of his small kitchen, and thinks about how he hopes that this is how he starts every morning for the rest of his life. Right next to Liam.