a river flows so surely to the sea, pt. 2
At about half past eleven, when everybody’s tired and mostly seated and Zayn is unabashedly leaning against Liam, who’s whispering into his neck and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles, the DJ comes on for the last time. “This evening has been absolutely sick, everybody, by far the most fun I’ve ever had at a gig. It’s time for the last dance between the two grooms, and they’ve asked a very special guest to help them go out in style. Please put your hands together for Mr. Ed Sheeran!”
There are whoops all around the room as a very ginger-haired man pulls a stool up the stage with a guitar slung across his back. Zayn recognizes Ed, who was a permanent fixture hanging about the flat with Harry and Louis during second year. “‘Lo, I’m Ed, I’m a friend of Haz and Louis. They asked me to play this song for them tonight. Sorry if it’s a bit rusty, I haven’t played it in a few years, so.” He turns his head from the mic to clear his throat, hums the first bits of the song to himself and strums his guitar a few times. “This is a song called ‘Kiss Me.’”
Zayn sighs contentedly when Harry leads Louis onto the dance floor. They lean and sway, a reprise of their first dance, faces turned into each other’s necks and eyes shut and sometimes kissing. His heart aches for his best friends, and he’s so happy in this moment; holding Liam’s hand and celebrating love and he’s just. So, so happy.
Ed finishes the song with a slap of his guitar. “Congrats, you two. Can’t wait to play it again for you at your fiftieth anniversary.” Everyone claps and cheers while Louis and Harry share another long kiss.
Lottie steps up on stage, blushing madly when Ed hands her the microphone, and tucks the same lock of hair behind her ear three times. Zayn tilts his head at that - Lottie only gets weird like this around guys she’s interested in... “Erm, Harry and Louis are leaving for the airport now, so waiters are coming round with sparklers so we can give them a proper send-off on their honeymoon. Just line up in the drive, they’ll be coming round with lighters as well.” She giggles strangely before practically sprinting off the stage, leaving Ed scratching his head and shrugging while Zayn laughs into Liam’s shoulder.
Outside the air is clean and fresh from the earlier storm. It’s loud, everybody chattering and trying to light each other’s sparklers as quickly as possible before they burn out. Zayn pulls out his own lighter and sparks first his, then Liam’s.
“Here, give us a light, please.” Safaa walks up to Zayn, arm-in-arm with Fizzy and holding out two sparklers.
“Wait, let me try to light it with my sparkler,” Liam says, tongue sticking out as he tries and fails to press the tips of the sparklers together.
“See the two of you have kissed and made up, then,” Zayn sniffs. Inexplicably, Safaa and Fizzy both turn beet-red, glancing at each other shyly, and Safaa snatches Zayn’s lighter before the two scurry off.
“Alright everyone, they’re coming!” Lottie shouts, holding her dress in one hand as she hurries down the steps. Everyone raises the sparklers up high, the photographer crouched at the end of the human tunnel, ready to snap the photo that will likely grace the thank-you cards.
Harry and Louis appear at the top of the stairs, hands held tight and raised in the air. Everyone cheers and stomps and shakes their sparklers as they run through the shower of sparks, grinning and laughing all the way to the waiting car. Harry helps Louis in, and then, with a massive smile and equally massive wave goodbye, he slides in, slamming the car door shut. The orderly lines break away to follow the car as far as they can, Zayn and Liam hanging back while Phoebe and Daisy make a mad dash up the drive, running and waving until the tail lights disappear around a turn.
“I don’t know if Jamaica is ready for Harry and Louis, to be honest,” Liam says, twirling his sparkler aimlessly.
Zayn watches the light fight to stay fizzing. It makes a truly valiant effort, blinking bright and brilliant before fading away with sizzle of smoke. “I genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if we got a phone call in a week asking to bail them out of prison.”
Liam laughs, knocking Zayn’s shoulder lightly. He takes Zayn’s burnt out sparkler and queues up with the rest of the crowd around a giant bowl of sand. Liam walks back slowly, lips pressed together and one hand in his pocket. He takes Zayn’s hand with his other, knits their fingers together. “So, I - I know that we’ve spent a bit of time together tonight, and I don’t, like...expect anything from you, or, you know, for anything to happen. We could go somewhere for drinks, or back to mine for a nightcap - totally innocent, I can ring a cab for you after, but. I just don’t want to let you go, not yet. Not so soon after finally meeting again.”
Zayn looks at their linked fingers, looks at the unassuming but hopeful quirk of Liam’s brow, takes in the fully dark sky speckled with pinpricks of starlight. He raises himself just a little onto his toes and plants a long, dry kiss on Liam’s lips. “Yours, I think.”
--
Zayn doesn’t remember unbuttoning Liam’s shirt, but by the time the car pulls up outside of a tall building, Zayn is kissing his bare chest while his fingers play across each of Liam’s ribs like piano keys. The cabbie doesn’t seem too scandalized, very mildly accepting the fare they manage to pool together, and drives off with a short nod. Liam tugs Zayn along until they’re stumbling into the lobby and up the lift to his flat.
Zayn resists the urge to climb Liam because he knows it would take them even longer to get inside Liam’s flat, but as Liam shrugs out of his dress shirt, revealing muscled shoulders and arms, Zayn latches on immediately, feeling up his biceps with pleasure as his inane sexual musings are proved to be within the realm of possibility. He’s just so lithely muscled, so bloody handsome - the lift dings on the fifth floor, where Liam takes Zayn’s hand and pulls him down the hallway.
Once Liam gets the door to his flat open, Zayn is backed up into the foyer. He very, very briefly flirts with the idea of breaking away from Liam, just to see what sort of knick knacks Liam keeps around his home. Zayn manages to spot a degree hanging framed on the wall before he shrugs his inspection off until morning, tightening his arms around Liam’s neck.
“Bed,” Liam says, voice husky already, and it sends a spark down Zayn’s spine. Zayn turns his head as Liam buries his face there, humming when Liam nips at his neck. He feels boneless and fluid and really fucking turned on.
“God,” he says, closing his eyes as Liam sucks at his shoulder. If he had the capacity, Zayn would be embarrassed at the way they’ve reverted back to secondary school, with hickeys and one-word exclamations; as it is, all Zayn knows is that he wants Liam’s hands on him, and wants his hands on Liam, too, dignity be damned. When Liam gets him up against a closed door, presumably leading to his bedroom, Zayn wastes no time in unbuckling Liam’s belt, getting the button open and the zip down quickly. Trousers loosened, Zayn takes the opportunity to slip his hands under Liam’s pants and grope his arse. It’s absolutely lovely, firm and sculpted like the rest of Liam’s body, and Zayn shows his appreciation for Liam’s workout regimen by kneading his bum and molding himself to Liam’s front. “Liam, your body - ”
They grind against each other for a few moments, Zayn ruthlessly digging his fingertips into Liam’s arse to press them tight against each other. He can feel the shape of him rubbing up against his own cock, and it makes him a little bit dizzy. Zayn weighs his options. While Liam’s arse is glorious to behold, he’d also quite like to feel up his dick. Then again, even more than he wants to wank Liam off until he’s forgotten everything and everyone but Zayn, he'd really like to be on a bed. With a displeased mewl and a vision for the greater goal, he does neither, instead fumbling for the doorknob.
Once he opens the door, Liam seems to come back to himself and moves Zayn backwards until he feels the bed frame, low and cold, against his calves. Zayn knocks their foreheads together, both of them concentrating on Liam’s fingers struggling with the buttons on Zayn’s shirt. Zayn lets the shirt drop to the floor, kicks his slacks off when Liam gets those loose as well. He rests a hand on Liam’s jaw, faintly scratching at the light evening stubble that pricks at his fingers. Zayn kisses Liam once, a deep kiss that lasts what feels like forever, Liam’s tongue meeting his in welcome.
Without breaking the kiss, Liam leans them back until Zayn is sitting on the edge of the bed. Finally, he pulls away with a breathless, “Hang on, let me get the light.” He shuffles to the lamp, holding his trousers up with one hand while he clicks the light on with the other. He turns back to Zayn slowly, a little grin playing on his face that Zayn returns easily. “Can see you now, ‘s much better this way.” On his way back to Zayn, Liam lets his trousers fall, stepping out of them as he lowers himself between Zayn’s legs.
Zayn bites his lip as Liam edges his fingers up into the leg holes of his pants, massaging his inner thighs and gingerly kissing over his clothed cock. Zayn whines when Liam doesn’t make a move to go any further. “Liam,” he says imploringly, hooking his leg around Liam’s back to bring him closer and urge him into action. Liam doesn’t show any sign that he heard him, still moving at his slow, deliberate pace.
Liam rolls down Zayn’s pants and tosses them over his shoulder. He spreads a hand on each of Zayn’s thighs, thumbing the wetness at Zayn’s cockhead, and licks first in small flicks of his tongue before turning broader and tonguing at the underside of his shaft. Zayn’s legs tighten where they’re crossed around Liam’s lower back. “You’re so, so beautiful,” Liam huffs, breath coming out strained. Zayn runs his fingers through Liam’s hair with warm eyes. He looks so very debauched, with those pink lips and messy hair and flushed cheeks.
Liam kisses his cockhead, a tender purse of his lips over the slit that he dips his tongue into, spreading the precome around to make it glisten in the low light. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, you know.”
Zayn’s cock jumps as the blood that isn’t in his dick rushes up to the top of his head. His heartbeat is loud in his ears, and though he knows his breathing is heavy, it sounds far away over the thrumming of his heart. “I didn’t think, back then...I thought, maybe you did, but now - ”
“Now it’s so bloody obvious, it’s embarrassing,” Liam chuckles, still kissing over Zayn’s groin and up his stomach. Zayn shivers as Liam’s hands roam over his back, nails grazing over Zayn’s skin when Liam presses into him harder. “Move up the bed a bit more, get comfortable.” Zayn wriggles back until his back is cushioned against the number of pillows propped against the headboard. Liam crawls after him, Zayn watching with hooded eyes as Liam situates himself between his spread legs once again. Liam rises on his elbows, ducking his head down to tease at Zayn’s tip, making the planes of his back ripple and flex. Zayn bites his lip, shaking his head in disbelief; he can’t believe this fucking exquisite man is lying between his legs, handling him so carefully and pushing all of his buttons just right.
Liam leans over Zayn as he repositions them, bringing Zayn’s knees up so they bracket his hips. “Lovely, lovely.” Liam kisses the tattoos dotting his chest, teeth dragging across the playing card, rubbing his stubbly chin over the angel wings, tongue peeking out to swirl along the script on his collarbones.
Zayn urges him up into a proper kiss, tongues winding lazily as Zayn wraps his arms around Liam’s shoulders in an unexpected bout of possession. He wants Liam’s body covering his, wants him inside him, wants him to - wants to - “Yes, there,” he moans as Liam’s cock rubs against his own, circling his hips in counterpoint to Liam’s. “I want you, your fingers, touch me.”
“God,” Liam says, pulling back and rolling off Zayn to reach into the nightstand, where he gets out lube and a condom. “I used to dream about this - fuck, sorry if that’s weird.”
“A little bit weird, yeah,” Zayn grins, “but I’d be lying if I said I’m not flattered and turned on by it, so.” Liam laughs and kisses him again, breaking off to nip at his neck. Zayn bites his lip. “Did you ever wank over me?” Liam doesn’t answer, just pulls back with a serene smile and squeezes some lube out over his fingers. Zayn’s voice hitches as Liam starts to slowly stroke his cock again, the cold first touch of the lube startling him before it warms under the friction. “Did - did you?”
Liam’s fingertips rub along Zayn’s balls, one finger slipping to his arse to get it wet. “Maybe.”
“You did,” Zayn says, shutting his eyes as Liam slowly presses his finger in, relaxing into his touch. “What did you think about?”
Liam’s brow is furrowed as he puts a second finger to Zayn’s arsehole, though he doesn’t go inside. “You want me to tell you about the first time I got myself off over you?”
“Yeah,” Zayn moans, “but kiss me first.”
Liam does, a long and deep kiss that leaves them both panting. His fingers resume their work, Zayn giving a pleased mewl when Liam slightly scissors them. “It was after your Halloween party in my third year. You’d danced with me for a few songs, I’d sort of hoped...just, you were so fucking fit, and I had the biggest fucking crush.” Liam kisses him again, tongues sliding together, before kissing along his jaw to his ear. “Turn around, hold the headboard.”
Zayn’s heart pounds as he does, the blood rushing hotly through his veins making his limbs seem disconnected from the rest of his body. He breathes deep and looks over his shoulder, hoping that Liam understands through eye contact alone that Zayn is entrusting himself to Liam, and not to fuck it up. Liam kisses his bum, up his spine, to his shoulder and to his mouth, where Zayn ignores the twinge in his neck from the angle so they can keep kissing.
Liam pulls back, running his clean hand up and down Zayn’s side as Zayn turns back to let his head hang between his outstretched arms. He shudders when Liam’s touch turns feathery, barely brushing along his white hot skin, groans when he feels slippery fingers returning to his arse. “In my fantasy, we’d already been together for a while.”
Liam slowly pushes two fingers back in, shallowly moving in and out. Zayn struggles to keep from collapsing to the bed. “Not just a one night stand?”
Liam stops with his fingers still in him, rests his face against Zayn’s back, shakes his head. “No. Never a one night stand.”
Zayn’s heart clenches, and he holds his breath. It feels serious, like the game’s been shifted...the dial’s been turned up a few notches and everything is just more. Zayn exhales, a shallow pant that still leaves his lungs feeling full and tight. “Fuck. Okay.”
Zayn listens for Liam’s breathing to calm down, his own heart beating unevenly as he tries to get his bearings back. Liam kisses his shoulder again. His voice is warm and quiet. “Should I keep going?”
Zayn nods. “Yeah, go ahead.”
Liam resumes his careful ministrations, pressing his ring finger up to join the others, keeping it slow and promising more with the slight curl of his fingers. Liam keeps his voice low, the back of Zayn’s neck prickling in response. “It was after the party, and we were getting ready for bed. I came into the bedroom to find you smirking and naked and hard. Your skin looked so pretty, your eyelashes dark and long. Kept eyeing me like you wanted to just. Have your way with me.” Liam goes quiet, keeping his fingers pushing in deliberately until they brush Zayn’s prostate.
Zayn jerks once before rolling his hips down hard with the rhythm of Liam’s fingers. “What happened next?”
Liam eases his fingers back, leaving Zayn both relieved and aching for Liam to properly fuck him. Liam rubs a thumb into the dimple on Zayn’s back, moving his mouth to the back of Zayn’s neck. “I like this tattoo a lot, by the way.” Zayn breathes into the inside of his arm, turning his neck into Liam’s kisses.
“Awful tease,” Zayn mumbles, “come on, Liam.”
Liam pulls his fingers all the way out, rubbing over Zayn’s hole with the barest pressure to keep Zayn’s back arching. “It was basically just a remake of my favorite porn...laid you down, sucked you off, ate you out, made you come once, then fucked you for an hour ‘til we both came at the same time.”
“That’s quite the tale,” Zayn says with a smile that quickly turns into a lip-bite when Liam’s fingers dip back in. “Yeah, yeah. Mmmm. An hour, you said?”
Liam pulls Zayn into his lap to bite his shoulder. “In my dream world, two wildly drunk people could have mind-blowing sex for an hour, yes.” Zayn shakes his head with a smile, earning himself a pinch.
Liam lays Zayn back down, pushing a pillow up under him and shifting Zayn’s hips until his arse is propped up. “Not promising quite that much, but I’ll do my best,” Zayn says, readjusting himself so his arms wrap around the pillow. He listens to the crinkle of the condom’s foil, hums when Liam massages along his sides, his back, his bum.
Zayn exhales as Liam lines himself up, big hands keeping Zayn’s cheeks spread apart as he keeps Zayn in place, slowly and evenly pushing into his arse. Zayn moans when Liam bottoms out, turning his face into the pillow for a moment to recuperate. Liam squeezes Zayn’s arse before sliding his hands up to his hips, holding on tight as he thrusts into Zayn slow and deep. Zayn bucks against Liam’s iron hold, groaning when Liam doesn’t give at all and keeps going at the same steady pace. “Faster, Liam, please.”
“God,” Liam huffs, his favorite word of the night, finally snapping his hips forward. His hands wander up Zayn’s chest, pinching his nipples lightly before one hand smooths down his stomach, Zayn shivering from the feeling of Liam’s fingers travelling over the bumps and grooves of his abs. Liam’s hand circles loosely around Zayn’s cock, never properly jerking him, keeping Zayn at the brink for what seems like forever. By the time Liam does tighten his fist around him, Zayn’s labored breathing has made the pillow damp. He tries to get his wits about him, to try to have a more active role, try to roll his hips or something, but the most he can manage is a stunted back-and-forth rocking motion that has him clenching from the way Liam’s cock hits him just right. Liam groans. “So gorgeous, look at you. Next time I want to see your face, watch you come.” With that, and a spot-on push right where he needs it, Zayn cries out and bites at the pillow, coming all over Liam’s hand and spilling onto the bed sheets, his body going absolutely limp.
Liam slows, shifts them over a little so they’re out of the wet spot. He keeps himself in deep, and lays himself over Zayn’s back. He wipes his right hand on the sheets and uses his left to card through Zayn’s hair, gripping it to turn his head to the side. Liam rubs his thumb over the sticky head of Zayn’s dick. Zayn whimpers, straining against Liam’s hold on him so he can muffle his sounds in the pillow, but Liam is having none of it, tilting Zayn’s head back to kiss him. Liam stills inside Zayn when their lips meet, soft, brief kisses that make his heart feel big and heavy in his chest. They kiss like that for a while, Zayn enjoying the feel of Liam spread out on top of him. The level of intimacy between them should feel rushed, out of place, but Zayn just feels full and right.
Finally, Liam slants his hips forward a little, reminding Zayn that he still hasn’t come. “You can keep going,” Zayn whispers, circling his hips and biting his lip against the sting of sensitivity. “Really, go ahead, I don’t mind.”
“You sure? I could just get myself off, don’t mind,” Liam murmurs back, though his hips are already rolling into Zayn once more. Zayn moans and nods, digging his elbows into the pillow in an attempt to keep both his head and hips up. He fists his hands in the sheets and closes his eyes, although one cracks open when Liam’s hands cover his, and he relaxes his grip long enough for their fingers to slot together. “Fuck, Zayn.” Liam is picking up speed and breathing hotly in Zayn’s ear as he gets back to the pace he’d set before.
“Liam, Liam, Liam,” he chants, back tensing as his body fights to reconcile the blurred line between pleasure and discomfort. Pleasure is winning out as Liam fucks into him, pressing against his prostate and getting him hard again. His cock rubs against the sheets, the friction stoking his arousal. “Ungh, feels so good, babe.”
Liam’s hips stutter before he pushes Zayn up onto his knees again, raises their held hands up to the top of the headboard. The change in angle makes them both gasp, Zayn sinking his teeth back into the pillow. Liam hooks his head over Zayn’s shoulder and coaxes him into a kiss before both his hands wrap around Zayn’s prick. “Go on, love, come again, know you can.”
“Yes, ah, ah,” Zayn gasps, using the last bit of adrenaline he has to spread his knees and bounce back on Liam’s cock, and it’s hitting him right there, every single time he presses back, until finally - “Oh, god, Liam.” Zayn comes, two or three long thin spurts that Liam angles so it shoots up his own stomach, the rest dribbling over Liam's fingers. Behind him, Liam grunts into the back of his neck, hips juddering forward as he releases into the condom, the movement of his hips tapering off until he’s panting but still.
Liam shakily swipes his hand over Zayn’s stomach, spreading the come across Zayn’s abs. He lifts the same hand to his mouth, sucks on two fingers and releases them with a sigh. “Good,” he says happily, reaching down to pull his softening cock out of Zayn’s arse. Zayn winces, bum already feeling a bit sore from being ridden so hard, and allows himself to be jostled and turned so their bodies are curved into two crescent moons, facing each other in the dim light from the lamp. Liam pulls a couple of tissues out from the bedside table and gently cleans off Zayn’s stomach before tugging off the condom and folding it up in the spare tissue. “That was good,” Liam says again, wiggling closer to Zayn so he can curl an arm over his waist. Zayn hums and shifts up Liam’s body for a peck, which quickly turns deep and breathless.
When they break apart, Zayn ducks his head under Liam’s chin, dropping a kiss to his birthmark. “Was that alright?” he whispers teasingly, running his nose over Liam’s throat and kissing over his jaw. “I’m afraid I let you down. On top of having boatloads of stamina, I expect dream-me was a lot more flexible than me-me.”
“Hey!” Liam pinches Zayn, a sharp smart that Zayn laughs over, immediately retaliating with a pinch to Liam’s bum. “I very much prefer the real Zayn to dream-Zayn, trust me. I can honestly say that you exceeded all of my wildest fantasies,” Liam says into Zayn’s hair. His fingers are burrowed in it, carefully combing through and rubbing the pads of his fingers over the bristly shaved sides of his head. “That was better than I ever could have imagined.”
“That good, eh? Me head’s gonna explode, you keep that up.”
“‘S true,” Liam says, wriggling an arm underneath Zayn so he can clasp both of his hands behind Zayn’s back. “Is it too forward of me to say that I think you’re probably the best I’ll ever have?”
Zayn laughs. “Seeing as we just slept together, I’d say no, not too forward.”
Liam tries to catch Zayn’s eye, the corners of his mouth turned down in thought. Zayn refuses to look at Liam dead on, content to bask in the aftermath of nice sex and nicer company. He closes his eyes when Liam traces a finger across his eyebrows, down his nose, over his lips. “Suppose you have a point there. Don’t be surprised when you can’t get rid of me from now on.”
Zayn hears the implications behind the statement, the slight hesitation in Liam’s voice that gives away his insecurity. He blinks away the sleep quickly moving in, gazing up at Liam with heavy-lidded eyes. “I think I’ll be able to deal with that, yeah.” Zayn reaches across Liam to switch off the lamp and turns over so his back is nestled to Liam’s front, repositioning their arms so his rest on top of Liam’s where they’re still pulled tight around his body. “Come on, let’s have a cuddle and rest up. Probably have more excellent sex in the morning.”
Liam grins into Zayn’s neck. “Alright.” He kisses Zayn’s ear and, pulling the sheets up over them, they settle into each other for the night.
--
When Zayn wakes up to sunlight filtering in through the sheer white curtains, he automatically buries his face into his pillow with a groan, squeezing his eyes against how bright the room is. He resurfaces, only to yawn and squint at the clock. It’s barely half nine. He doesn’t know how he’s awake already, honestly.
Zayn stretches his body out, one limb at a time, enjoying the way his back cracks as he twists and sighs. Lying there, bones like jelly, bum a little sore, he feels like a housecat, pliant and sleepy and lazy. He manages to flip himself over, and the lovely view of Liam lying on his back with one arm stretched across Zayn’s pillow and the other covering his eyes suddenly makes this the most welcome wake-up he’s experienced in quite some time. Cat, meet cream.
Zayn traces the feather tattooed on Liam’s outstretched arm, using the nail of his index finger to scratch over the black lines inked into his skin. He curls his body around Liam’s, throwing his arm over Liam’s waist and settling so his head is level with his pecs. Zayn uses his fingers to walk across Liam’s torso, from the dip of his navel and up the little pathway his defined stomach muscles make. Zayn’s touch becomes fainter, softly petting Liam’s chest hair, fingers wandering until they stop to rub at one of his nipples. They’re small and dark, and Zayn wants nothing more than to suck on them.
He does.
Liam stirs as Zayn’s tongue swirls around one nipple while pinching the other, his morning wood visibly showing through the white sheets though he still doesn’t fully wake up. Zayn raises himself up over Liam, leaning on his elbows to fold back the sheet and admire Liam’s prick, leaving a sweet kiss on the head. At Liam’s groan, Zayn kisses up his chest, making a short detour when he reaches his nipples to bite them again. He tears himself away to continue going up, and barring one very short stop at Liam’s birthmark to suck a bruise over it, Zayn finally arrives at his final destination. He kisses Liam once, no tongue, and beams down at Liam’s squinty eyes. “Morning.”
“Mo-o-orning,” Liam says mid-yawn, thoughtfully turning his face away to spare Zayn his morning breath. Zayn is grateful. “You look like you’re up to no good.”
Zayn tries his very best not to swoon at how gruff and deep Liam’s voice sounds, because it’s simply too early in the morning for cliché. “I am,” he agrees, climbing over Liam’s hips so he’s straddling him. “I thought I’d have another go, figured it’d be polite to wake you up first.”
“Consent is sexy,” Liam says seriously, stretching his arms up over his head to grip the headboard. “You know what’s even sexier?”
“Me riding you until we both can’t walk?”
Liam’s stomach grumbles with enough force that Zayn feels it where he’s sat on his stomach. “I was going to say breakfast, but yours is better, probably.” Zayn grins down at Liam, heart full-to-bursting with happiness and lust and the beginnings of something, something substantial... “I actually am pretty hungry, and maybe slightly hungover, so. If we could put a ‘top priority’ pin in this,” Liam gestures to Zayn’s half-hard dick, “we can definitely try out your idea after I get some paracetamol and food.”
Zayn sighs dramatically, rolling off of Liam with a pout. “Fine. But I want a proper breakfast, the works - pancakes from scratch, ten different kinds of syrup, coffee and tea and juice.”
Liam rustles through his chest of drawers, finding fresh pants for himself and throwing Zayn a clean pair. “I’ll see what I can manage, Prince Malik.”
Liam scoots Zayn along to the kitchen, sitting him down on a stool at the bar and rooting around in the fridge for orange juice and eggs and milk (because apparently Liam isn’t much of a cook, and Zayn’s breakfast demands have been reduced to fried eggs and cereal). And it’s while they’re crunching on cereal and making faces at each other, when Zayn steals a bit of Liam’s yolk, that Zayn thinks to himself that even if he and Liam could’ve saved themselves a bit of heartache all those years ago, it’s okay.
Some things are meant to be.
and the mix