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To warm the cool side of the pillow (I'm there for you)

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Liam knows he needs to stop staring.

They’re in a tattoo & piercing shop somewhere in America and Zayn has been whining on about doing this for fucking months, finally dragging Liam and Niall along with him because he argued that Louis would be an absolute nightmare pain in the arse and Harry would just stand there and make comments, so. Here he is. And he really needs to stop staring.

They’ve been in a relationship long enough that Liam should be able to stand being in the same room as him without practically dribbling but Zayn is just so fit, his body lithe and toned and scattered with dark ink. The piercer has one hand on his hip as he marks where the piercings should go through and Liam bats down an irrational pang of jealousy because that’s how piercings have to be done, isn’t it, and for goodness sake, for all the piercer knows Zayn is straight but he doesn’t really want him touching Zayn for any longer than needs be.

The shop is empty apart from the three of them, the piercer and the receptionist milling around and members of their security team but even now Liam isn’t allowed to give the impression that Zayn is his, even though he’s pretty sure Zayn dragged him here so he could be the one to hold his hand. He can sit through hours of needles inking pictures and words into his skin but the second someone comes at him with a piercing needle he panics and the nerves set in big time. Liam thinks it’s quite ridiculous, but then again he’s never had a piercing so he guesses he can’t really comment.

“Right,” the piercer says, stepping back and finally taking his hand off Zayn’s hip. “Those look pretty even.” He plucks up a mirror from the table beside him and holds it in front of Zayn’s chest. “Are you happy with those?”

Zayn squints and then nods. “Yes, they look good, mate.”

“Sweet,” the piercer says. “So if I can just get you to lie on this bed here, what I’m going to do is clamp them and then pierce them. I think I’ll do your left one first and then your right one. Do you want one of them over here with you?”

“Er, is that okay?” Zayn asks in a nervous voice. The piercer nods, shrugging like he’s indifferent and then Liam’s over there before Zayn’s even said his name.

“Hi,” he says lowly. “How you doing?”

“Freaking the fuck out,” Zayn breathes, his eyes wide as they stare up at Liam from the bed. “Hold my hand?”

Liam looks over to the security team but none of them make the move to separate them so he laces their fingers, squeezing gently and reassuringly. Zayn takes a deep breath and lies himself flat completely, staring up at the ceiling as the piercer dabs on the cleansing alcohol.

“Awful cosy, aren’t ya?” he jibes as unwraps the needle from its plastic packaging. “I’d heard you boys were close but it’s not often we get two bros holding hands like that.”

Niall snorts from the waiting area and Liam and Zayn shoot him matching glares. The piercer doesn’t seem to notice though, unwrapping the clamp from its packaging and then leaning over so he can get to Zayn’s left nipple.

“Ready?”

Zayn nods and squeezes his eyes closed as the piercer holds the clamp in place before he slides the needle through. Zayn lets out a breathy moan as the piercer gets to work hurriedly sliding the jewellery in through the newly made hole and Liam squeezes his hand back as if on instinct because that’s usually a sound reserved for Liam’s ears and Liam’s ears only.

“How was that?” the piercer asks and Zayn lets out a long breath.

“Fine, I think,” he groans. Liam squeezes his hand again gently.

“Doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as a tatt, now, does it?” the piercer grins as he disposes of the needle and clamp in the toxic waste bin. “Still okay for your other one?”

Zayn nods and the piercer gets a fresh set of equipment from the cabinet mounted on the wall behind them. With his back turned, Liam takes the opportunity to quickly draw Zayn’s hand up to his mouth and peppers it with several quick kisses, smiling down at his boyfriend happily. “Alright, love?” he mouths. Zayn is still wincing from the aftershocks but he nods again and squeezes his hand gently as the piercer turns back around.

“Time for the second,” he says cheerily. “Still nervous now you know what to expect?”

“Not really,” Zayn says but the way he’s squeezing Liam’s hand says otherwise. “Think it might be worse because I know it’s gonna fucking hurt.”

“You’ll be fine, bro,” the piercer says as he unwraps the clamp. “Ready?”

Zayn takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, fingernails digging into Liam’s palm as the needle goes through the base of his right nipple. He sighs out a gasping “oh, fuck, fuck!” that makes Liam’s palm sweat a little and then barely seconds later the piercer is pulling back to admire his handiwork.

“All done for you, bro. They look sick, if I do say so myself.”

Zayn drops Liam’s hand and presses himself into the seating position, looking down and grinning weakly as he admires the two metal bars now standing horizontally through both his nipples. He smirks up at Liam who has finally allowed himself to look at them, which he now knows was a really bloody stupid thing to do because his trousers suddenly feel a little bit smaller and he’s pretty sure he’s dribbling.

It’s just, Zayn looks delicious, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and now with these two stark silver piercings on his already distractingly perfect chest. Liam hates him.

“Alright, just a few, like, disclaimers, words of warning, that kinda shit,” the piercer says, handing Zayn over a piece of paper. “Clean them twice a day in salt water, like, proper rock salt in proper boiling water. Put them on a Q-tip or a cotton pad and clean around the scabby areas for, like, sixty seconds. Don’t play with them, don’t twist them, make sure your hands are washed before you clean them, etcetera. Try to ask your famous fiancée to leave them alone too.” He tacks on a wink at the end and Liam has to use extreme self-control not to snort.

(He knows he and Zayn aren’t technically engaged but they’re pretty much as good as at this point. He’s definitely certain that Zayn’s ruined him for anyone else, anyway.)

“I’ll, um, let them know,” Zayn says, sounding suspiciously like he’s also trying to conceal a laugh. “Thanks for this, bro, I appreciate it.”

He sits himself up properly and shuffles round so he can stand up off the sofa. Niall hands him over a can of Coke and he chugs it quickly before he tugs his soft t-shirt back over his head. He stands up and shakily walks over to the counter to pay, at which point Liam doesn’t get to say anything else to him so he can be secretly driven out of there so only Niall and Zayn are the ones who get papped.

Slightly put out, he goes back to their shared hotel room and sits on the balcony, drinking beer and answering some tweets until Zayn comes back a few hours later. He hears the card key bleep in the door so he sets his bottle down on the table and stands up to go and find him, itching for the opportunity to see his new piercings properly.

Zayn’s pulling off his jacket and snapback as Liam slides open the balcony door, face set in a wide grin as he can finally look at his boyfriend for the first time that day.

“Hi,” he murmurs, walking over to Zayn and gently brushing some of his messy hair from his eyes.

“Hi yourself,” Zayn smiles back, bouncing up on his heels to press a quick kiss into the corner of Liam’s mouth. “Missed you.”

“We’ve been apart three hours, babe,” Liam says with a playful roll of his eyes, like Zayn’s words don’t make him near giddy with joy.

“I know, I missed you for three hours,” Zayn says, hands finding Liam’s hips. “Today was long, man. And too bloody hot.”

“How are your nips?” Liam says as he wraps his arms around Zayn’s shoulders, careful not to pull him in too tight in case his nipples get crushed.

“Weird,” Zayn says after a second. “Like, they hurt but it’s like a dull ache, like, it’s a pain I’m gonna have to get used to, I think.”

“Can I see them?” Liam prompts, already toying with the back of the neck of Zayn’s t-shirt. Zayn shrugs and drops his hands to his hem, pulling it gingerly so to not snag the new piercings and then up over his head.

Liam’s breath hitches as he finally get to take them in properly. They’re fucking beautiful is what they are, two long, thin barbells sitting at the base of Zayn’s puffy nipples. They’re both perfectly straight and there’s a little bit of crusted blood around the edges but even with that they’re still two of the most gorgeous things Liam’s ever laid eyes on. His hand moves forward of its own accord to touch but Zayn smacks his hand away and glares at him through scrunched brows.

“Hey, the piercer said no touching,” he admonishes. “And if I’m not allowed then you certainly are not, you handsy bastard.”

Liam pouts and rubs at his hand like the slap really hurt. “But they’re so…”

Zayn grins and kisses him again, this time parting Liam’s lips open with his tongue and wrapping his arms around his neck. Liam squawks awkwardly but lets himself be kissed, eventually smiling into it as Zayn’s fingers dig into his hips.

“You think you can get away with just kissing me to distract me from those?” Liam says, frogmarching them back towards the bed. Zayn just latches himself onto Liam’s neck, biting and sucking at his skin which would probably make him weaker at the knees if Liam couldn’t hear him giggling into it. Instead, he drops him down gently onto the mattress and crawls over him, breathing hotly over the bud and making Zayn squirm in his arms.

“You twat,” Zayn breaths out, glaring up at him as Liam’s hands trail down his ribs. “No, Liam, stop, stop, just kiss me.”

“What?” Liam says, looking up from where he’s leaving a wet trail around Zayn’s hipbones. “You were the one sucking on my weak spot just then. Forgive me for thinking that that doesn’t mean what it almost always does. And anyway, I need to distract myself from those things, how else do you suggest?”

Zayn shuffles up onto his elbows. “Look, not now. Everything’s a little bit… too sensitive right now.”

Liam raises his eyebrows. “You’re too sensitive all over?”

“It’s like everything is, like, heightened?” Zayn says, groaning again as Liam dips his tongue into Zayn’s belly button. “Like I’m going to, Jesus, like anything could make me hard.”

“Are you saying that I’m just anything?” Liam pouts, digging his chin into Zayn’s flat stomach indignantly and Zayn squeals as he tries to shuffle up the bed and away from the brutal sensation of Liam’s stubble.

“No, I’m saying not now,” he grits. He winces as Liam reluctantly shuffles back up Zayn’s body, his t-shirt accidentally snagging one of the bars, arching his back and grunting as he bats Liam away. “Definitely not now, you abuser.”

“Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” Liam says, kissing Zayn’s mouth again. “Okay, fine, not now. Do you want some paracetamol or something? A beer? Some food?”

“I want a fucking kiss,” Zayn whines. “I’m the one who needs a nice distraction from the pain and you’re meant to provide one. S’why I hired you.”

“Hired me?” Liam pouts. “Why are you making me sound like a prostitute?”

“Ah, but I don’t want sex from you.”

“For once in your life,” Liam mutters with raised eyebrows. Zayn smacks his cheek.

“Hey,” he snaps indignantly. “Not everything is about sex, Liam Payne. We’re in love and all that bullshit.” Liam rolls his eyes fondly. “I don’t want sex right now because I’m sore. But sex is going to be, like, double as good when these have healed.”

“For you or for me?”

Zayn scoffs. “Don’t pretend you aren’t already insanely infatuated with them, darling. You can’t fucking wait to get your mouth on them.” He brings Liam’s head down so their foreheads are resting together. “Or your hands. Twisting them, making me writhe and squirm and moan your name. Nothing gets you harder than when I moan your name, does it, you self-absorbed git.”

“Shit,” Liam hisses, his skin flushing bright red as Zayn grins up at him. “You are evil, Malik, evil.”

“Love you,” Zayn titters, licking up Liam’s nose. “Can’t wait for all of that, darling.”

“Same,” Liam murmurs, shaking his head. “And I happen to love you too, even if you are a sly little shit.” He ducks down and they kiss again, long and slow. “How’s this distraction working for you?”

“Alright, I guess,” Zayn says, pouting as Liam pulls back with raised eyebrows. Zayn just shrugs, looking mighty pleased with himself until Liam hovers a hand over one of his nipples and smirks. “Okay, okay, fine! It’s fabulous and wonderful and you’re the best kisser on planet Earth and I love you more than anything. Fucking hell, mate, you’re so needy.”

Liam just beams and slides their lips together again. He’s careful not to bend down too far in case his t-shirt snags one of the piercings again but he kisses him happily until Louis bangs on their door and demands a look at them.

It’s only later when they’re both lying in bed that Liam lets himself look at them again. It’s late, really late and Liam wakes up cold with empty arms.

Zayn has shuffled away from him and is lying on his back, sheets tucked around his waist so they’re definitely away from his piercings with his arms lying robotically by his sides. Liam strokes a gentle hand down his arm before he tries to go back to sleep but he’s become so accustomed to having another body curled around him that he can’t. Instead, he rolls over and props himself up on his elbow and just stares at Zayn’s nipples, watching how they ripple as he breathes in and out. They’re glinting ever so slightly in the moonlight and Liam doesn’t know how long he stares at them for because they’re just so beautiful and so fucking sexy and…

“Quit staring at my nipples, you creep.”

Liam jumps a little and Zayn cracks one eye open slowly.

“How did you…?”

“I’ve shared a bed with you for nearly three years,” Zayn points out. “I can practically hear you thinking at this point, babe. And you’re not cute.”

“You are though,” Liam says with a grin, sliding down and gingerly rolling Zayn onto his side. “Why are you so far away?”

“Don’t wanna risk snagging them,” Zayn shrugs. “Can’t sleep though, they’re throbbing like hell and I’m sensitive as fuck.”

“Want me to get you some water?” Liam asks, smoothing away Zayn’s worry lines with his thumb. “Some painkillers?”

“Oh, god, please,” Zayn groans. “I thought it would become more bearable but it’s really not.”

“No worries, love,” Liam says as he kicks the sheets off and goes over to their suitcase for a box of paracetamol. He then goes into the bathroom and finds a glass, filling it up with cold water and then heading back to the bed. Zayn sits up and graciously takes the pills, knocking them back and swigging the water.

“Thank you, Li,” he says as he sets the glass on the bedside table. “I’m already regretting this, man. I just wanna sleep.”

“Oh, babe,” Liam says, opening his arms for Zayn to crawl into but Zayn shakes his head.

“Can’t cuddle you, ‘m too sore,” he groans, flopping himself back onto the pillows dramatically. “This really fucking sucks.”

“Roll over?” Liam suggests but Zayn just makes an indignant sound.

“I can’t see your stupid face that way!”

“You have the rest of our lives to look at my stupid face,” Liam tells him, gently rolling him over himself and wrapping his arms around his bare middle.  “Can I do anything else for you though?”

“I don’t know,” Zayn grumbles. “I feel like an idiot because obviously I brought this on myself but it really fucking hurts, Li.”

Liam kisses his shoulder. “I bet, darling, I bet. Think about what you said earlier though, how much fun it’ll be when I can do lots of fun things to them.”

Zayn moans softly. “They hurt so much but, like, every brush against my skin, like, I can feel it in my nipples? How does that even work?”

“Are you hard?” Liam whispers, not wanting to move his hands from around Zayn’s waist to check in case he gets smacked again. “Do you want me to get you off or anything?”

Zayn shakes his head. “I’m not really and, like, I don’t think I want to be, like, properly turned on? Not that, like, I don’t want you to get me off because I always want you to get me off but I just think that it’ll make them hurt more? Am I making any sense?”

“Not really,” Liam admits, kissing his shoulder again. “Has the paracetamol kicked in yet?”

“No,” Zayn moans petulantly, pulling Liam’s arms tighter around him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just get you off really quick? Orgasms are supposed to be a great relaxant.”

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines softly, hand gripping onto Liam’s wrist as it slides down and into his boxers where Zayn is sporting a semi, has been pretty permanently since he said they started this dull ache. “Leeyum, wait.”

“What, babe?”

“S’just a lot,” Zayn whimpers, though his words a few moments ago seem to have been pretty much forgotten as he presses himself forward into Liam’s hand. “Feels so sensitive already.”

Liam wraps his hand around him at that, stroking him to full hardness and working him to a messy orgasm in what feels like no time at all. Liam has to use extreme self-control not to twist one of his boyfriend’s nipples like he usually would and Zayn gasps and shakes in his arms as he comes, completely overworked from the sensation.

“You okay, babe?” Liam asks as he wipes his hand on the fabric of Zayn’s boxers and pulls it out. Zayn nods weakly, still trembling from the aftershocks.

“Think so,” he breathes out. “Think I needed that to take the edge off a bit.”

“Aren’t you so glad you have a boyfriend who knows you better than you know yourself?”

He doesn’t need Zayn to turn round to know he’s rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Li. Thanks though.”

“No problem, darling,” Liam says, nuzzling into his sweaty neck. “Are you too warm or do you wanna stay cuddling?”

“Cuddling’s good,” Zayn says sleepily, because he really is fucking useless after an orgasm anyway, but now he’s almost in that state he gets in when they play sometimes. Liam fucking loves this Zayn so much.

“Okay, darling, sleep well. I love you.”

“You too, Li,” Zayn yawns and then he’s out like a switch has been flicked. Liam cuddles him closer, despite the muggy heat and the fact that he now has a dead arm and lets Zayn’s calm, level breathing lull him under too.

*

Whoever said life is very short was a liar, Liam thinks.

Life might be very short if you’re not waiting for your insanely gorgeous boyfriend’s nipple piercings to heal but if you are then every fucking second feels like a day and every day feels like a million years.

Zayn is very strict about the rule of no touching them until they’ve healed because it’s so easy to set the healing process back to the beginning, he says. It’s been two and a half weeks since Liam has been allowed anywhere near Zayn’s chest and he misses it greatly (not only because he loves the fact that Zayn’s always had an incredibly sensitive pair of nipples that he just loves to bite and suck and twist and squeeze when they fuck) but also because while they’re healing, their sex life hasn’t been the best.

Because nipple play has always been an important part of their sex dynamic and now it’s out of bounds Liam isn’t always sure what to do with his hands. They’ve tried fucking face to face, of course, but Liam accidentally leant forward too far and snagged one of the bars without realising, making it bleed and meaning they had to stop for a few minutes. So he’s taken to fucking Zayn from behind for a lot of the healing process, which is fine, but…

“I miss your stupid face… fuck,” Zayn whines as Liam grips his hips and drives into him harder. He buries his face in his forearms and lets Liam pound away into his arse. Liam groans, fingernails scratching into Zayn’s skin and Zayn whines again, letting himself just take what Liam gives him.

“Yeah, fuck, baby,” Liam grunts, pressing kisses across Zayn’s back. He can hear Zayn’s breathing getting heavy and ragged so he doubles his efforts, feeling a little like something’s off that he can’t quite put his finger on. But he’s got his cock in Zayn’s arse and he’ll be damned if he stops them both from coming so he keeps on going, leaning forward to wrap an arm around Zayn’s waist, pulling him upright slowly so he doesn’t slip out.

“Leeyum,” Zayn crows as a hand wraps around his cock. “Leeyum, please.”

It’s dirty and quick and messy, the way Zayn comes all over his fist and slumps in Liam’s arms. Liam carefully pulls out of him and lets him collapse onto the mattress before he rips the condom off hurriedly and pumps himself so he comes all over Zayn’s abs.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles as he too slides down onto the pillows. He wipes the cum off his hand onto the sheet and presses his heaving chest into Zayn’s back and strokes up and down his arm gently.

“Bloody hell indeed,” Zayn wheezes, weakly reaching over to the bedside table for a tissue to wipe himself clean with. “God, that was…”

Liam’s breath hitches after Zayn remains quiet for a second, just taking Liam’s hand and pulling his arm across his waist so they’re cuddled close. Neither of them say anything for a while until Zayn eventually breaks it.

“Um, Liam?”

“Yes, baby?” Liam says slowly, pressing a kiss into Zayn’s sweaty neck.

“Liam, was that… I mean, did that feel, like, I dunno, it was good but, like, odd?”

“What do you mean?” Liam asks, furrowing his brows and trying not to feel too panicked.

“Like it wasn’t… baaaad, but it felt, like…”

“Stilted?” Liam says, because he knows it did and he can’t lie to Zayn.

“Yes!” Zayn says, snapping his fingers like it’s a revelation. He sounds thankfully less annoyed than Liam had feared, which is also a fucking bonus. “I dunno, like, we’ve had sex in that position loads of times, but, like, not when it’s just us, you know? That’s usually our hurried-after-a-show fuck position, isn’t it?”

Liam snorts. “Okay? So we try you fucking me again?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Not… not yet. Maybe…” He coughs awkwardly. “Maybe we should hold off until we can have sex, like, properly?”

Liam’s eyes go wide. “Seriously? You don’t want to have sex for two months?”

“We’re not even halfway through the healing process?!” Zayn asks, sounding genuinely baffled. “Oh fuck, maybe not then.”

“Well, no, like,” Liam swallows nervously. “I know what you mean. It wasn’t, like, the greatest sex we’ve ever had, I’m not gonna lie to you. And I really don’t wanna stop having sex with you.”

“Same,” Zayn mumbles. “I fucking hate sexually frustrated Liam as well.”

Liam grins into his neck. “Tell me about it. Sexually frustrated Zayn isn’t my favourite either.”

“I thought I was always your favourite,” Zayn scowls, turning his head to playfully bite at Liam’s shoulder.

“Not if you’re withholding sex,” Liam tells him, catching his lips in a quick kiss. It’s an awkward angle so Zayn instinctively rolls over but manages to snag the bar in the process and he just whines into Liam’s mouth instead.

“Oh fuck this,” he huffs. “Pass me a t-shirt from the floor so I can cuddle my fucking boyfriend without risk of bleeding to death.”

Liam snorts as he fishes around for his discarded top, dropping it onto Zayn’s chest and shuffling back so he can tug it over his head. “You’re cute,” he tells him, wrapping him up in his arms once the t-shirt is safely on and covering the offending piercings. “And you’re going to get angrier if you’re sexually frustrated so, like, why don’t we just stick to, I dunno, the basics? Just until they don’t hurt at every touch.”

“What, so handies and blowies and stuff?” Zayn scowls. “That’s almost worse, Li.”

“I’m still giving you orgasms,” Liam points out. “Maybe even multiple ones if you ask nicely.”

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines, rolling over carefully and burying his face in Liam’s chest. “I want to have sex!”

“I thought it wasn’t all about sex with us because we’re in love and all that bullshit,” Liam grins, hands toying with the baby hairs on the back of Zayn’s neck. Zayn groans and bites at the flesh just above his own nipple.

“Why haven’t you let that go yet?” he says, looking up with a glare. “It was a sensitive time for me.”

“Because I love you and bullshit,” Liam says, darting forward to kiss him between the eyes. “But you’re right, tour’s too long to not fuck, I agree.” He coughs. “Unless…”

Zayn moans again. “There is no unless, you sadist. I cannot watch you fucking dance around on stage like some kind of sexy precious little git and not have the possibility of fucking you afterwards, nuh uh, babe.”

“I was gonna suggest we try one of those sex bet thingys,” Liam pouts. “Now seems as good a time as ever.”

“Does it fuck,” Zayn snaps. “You really want to not fuck after shows or on our days off?”

“Alright, no,” Liam mumbles. “We’d both be bloody useless.”

They both lie there in silence for a while, Liam gently toying with the hairs on the back of Zayn’s neck.

“I say we don’t think about it too much,” Liam says eventually, knocking Zayn’s chin up. “We’ll just go with it, yeah? If we think too much we’ll end up having an argument, won’t we?”

“I guess so,” Zayn mumbles back sullenly. “I do trust you though and I know you’d never hurt me, not without my consent anyway, so we’ll just see how it goes?”

Liam nods and just lets Zayn press his lips into his, shifting the dynamic gradually from slightly awkward to their usual happy after-sex glow.

Liam knows he’s over-cautious, is the thing. He knows he said he wouldn’t think about it too much but he does, thinking about just how much pain Zayn looked in when he’d snagged it accidentally so he does what he does best and avoids the problem as best he can.

It starts with him saying he’s got a headache or a hangover or he’s too tired, but when he can’t get away with it he just sticks to pushing Zayn up against a wall and blowing him, or slowly fingering him to a drawn-out orgasm before bed. It’s fine and it’s good because obviously they know how to make each other fall apart easily and he always makes it the best he can, but whenever Zayn’s got his back arched off the mattress and begging for Liam to get inside him, Liam panics, gulps and ends up just wrapping his hand or his lips around his cock instead.

But also Liam is just so attracted to Zayn and knows exactly what nipple play does to him, so just thinking about getting his mouth on them, getting his body to sweat and his eyes to squeeze shut and for him to let out the prettiest moans is enough to make Liam’s mouth water. He realises miserably that he’s become exactly what he wanted to avoid – a sexually frustrated fool who can’t stop staring at his boyfriend’s chest. Dammit all to hell.

Zayn’s also changed what he’s wearing because after a Google search he learned that soft t-shirts are more likely to allow the piercings to heal faster. Liam doesn’t quite know how to handle himself the day Zayn walks into the green room backstage wearing Louis’s famous Stone Roses t-shirt, the arm holes cut low enough for Liam to see the piercings when he leans over to reach into the mini-fridge. He can’t help but groan out loud and Niall shoots him a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Sorry,” Liam moans, flipping his boyfriend off as he smirks at him from across the room.

“Yeah, you’re not though, are you?” Niall grumbles, standing up and going over to the sofa where Harry is sat. “Fucking disgusting.”

“What’s wrong, darling?” Zayn asks in a disgustingly sweet voice as he flops down onto Liam’s lap. “Are you okay there?”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist and digs his nose into the back of his neck. He feels Zayn giggle and shift his hips so he’s rubbing against Liam’s crotch and he tightens his grip, biting down on Zayn’s shoulder until he stills.

From then on, Zayn becomes almost unbearable. Every single night he wears Louis’s softer tops with low sleeves and Liam swears he can see the silver bars glinting under the stage lights. On top of that, Zayn has definitely caught on to Liam’s game and has stopped trying to initiate sex, instead choosing to get high with Louis or get drunk with Niall after a show.

Liam knows he’s doing it for a rise, he knows, but his theory of not choosing to do anything about it follows on from his idea that it’ll all be worth it for Zayn’s nipples to heal and for them to have amazing reconnection sex in a week or so rather than to grab him and just fuck him like he’s desperate to, risking setting the healing process back.

But Liam is a sexually frustrated fool, and only human (who happens to be dating Zayn Malik) to boot, so when Zayn turns up wearing a denim shirt, the bars painfully obvious through the tight material, Liam nearly drops dead on the spot.

The show that night is pretty incredible and Liam feels high on all of it, on the lights and the music and the love he has for his fans and his boys and his fucking soulmate who is currently making everyone in the audience cry with one of his truly unmatchable high notes. His head is thrown back and his chest is thrown forward so Liam can see the piercings poke forward. He tears his eyes away and darts behind Harry to avoid looking at the big screen, drinking almost a full water bottle in one long gulp so he has at least something to keep busy with.

By the end of the show, Liam is halfway to hard on the adrenalin alone so as they all jog off the stage he hangs back a little to dig the heel of his palm into his crotch and takes several deep breaths. He can’t hack this anymore.

“Hey, Harry?” he calls, ducking his head into the room. Harry’s just sat on the sofa texting; the other three seem to have vanished. Harry looks up curiously.

“Sup?”

“I’m just going to go back to the hotel, I think,” Liam says, running a hand across his sweaty forehead. “I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Okay, bro,” Harry says with a nod. “Want me to tell Zayn if I see him?”

“Yes, please,” Liam sighs happily, because he really doesn’t want Zayn to walk in while he’s fucking himself for once. “I’ll probably be asleep when he comes back, he’s gone for a smoke with Ni and Lou, I’m guessing, so if he wants to stay out then that wouldn’t be the worst thing if I’m honest.”

“Probably,” Harry shrugs. “Alright, sleep well, Li.”

Liam waves him off and hurries off to find Paddy, who gets him a car and takes him back to his hotel room in no time at all. He sighs as he fumbles for his key card, all set to kick off his shoes and throw his snapback onto the sofa before climbing onto the bed and fucking himself with Zayn’s name on his lips.

What he’s not expecting to see is Zayn already in there, naked and sweaty with two fingers up his arse.

“Holy…” Liam says, slamming the door shut behind him and dropping his key card on the floor. Zayn’s eyes snap open and he groans loudly, his fingers stilling for a second as his eyes meet Liam’s.

“Li… Liam?” he pants out and Liam moans, knocking the snapback from his head before he’s moving to straddle Zayn, fisting both hands in his hair as he smashes their lips together.

“Jesus Christ, Zayn,” he moans into his mouth. “You’re such a fucking…”

Zayn pulls his fingers out and bites down hard on his bottom lip to shut him up, his hands sliding down Liam’s torso to grab the hem of his top and yank it off. They pull apart so Liam can get it over his head and drop it onto the floor before they’re kissing again, all teeth and tongue and harsh bite.

“You’re the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Zayn gasps, hands clutching at Liam’s already sweaty face.

“Me?” Liam stammers, pulling away from Zayn’s hold to fumble with the button on his jeans. “You’re the one who ran away whenever I tried to give you a fucking orgasm.”

“You think you can just replace sex with foreplay and expect me to not have any kind of an issue with that?” Zayn snaps, falling back against the pillows so Liam can yank his jeans down past his knees. He wrestles them off, followed by his boxers and socks and by the time he’s naked Zayn has a hand around his cock, which Liam immediately bats away.

“You think you’re doing this without me?” he says, his voice low and dark. “Fuck, Zayn, you can’t just...”

“Fucking touch me then,” Zayn growls and Liam does just that, smashing their mouths together again, his hands sinking into Zayn’s hair again. Zayn moans as he tugs and Liam ruts down into him, moving his mouth down to kiss down Zayn’s jaw and down towards his neck.

“Do they hurt?” he murmurs into his taut skin. “Fuck, Zayn, c-can I?”

“Leeyum, god, please,” Zayn whines, thrusting his body forward so they’re almost pressed chest to chest. “Leeyum…” He swallows his words back as Liam presses his thumb against the side of his left barbell, eliciting a half moan, half shout from him. His hands dig into Liam’s shoulders and Liam gapes, his fingers pressing harder into the bar in a way that makes Zayn throw his head back.

He attaches his mouth to the long column of Zayn’s neck, biting the skin and licking over the blossoming bruise. He presses his thumbs into the other side of the bar and Zayn just about wails, his fingers dropping from Liam’s shoulders to wrap back around his cock, heavy and straining against Liam’s thigh.

“Don’t you…” Liam bats it away again and Zayn whines in the back of his throat, eyes shooting open and glaring. “Can I do that again? Zayn?”

Zayn nods hurriedly so Liam wastes no time in ducking down and finally, finally taking one of Zayn’s nipples in his mouth and the response he gets is something he wants to relive again and again for the rest of his life. He tongues around the barbell, swirling around it and sucking hard, his thumb pressing against the other one. It tastes salty and a little like iron but he barely even registers it, not with the way Zayn is now fisting his own hands in Liam’s hair and babbling a mess of curses and moans.

“Fucking hell, Liam, fucking Jesus fucking Christ, your fucking mouth, oh fuck…”

Liam can’t help but smirk as Zayn pants and chants his name like a prayer, his tongue going wild around the fleshy bud. He pulls off and swaps his attack to the second one, flicking his tongue out and getting the surrounding areas all wet before he bites down around the base softly, sucking at it gently to sooth the teeth marks.

“Fuck, Liam, they’re still… fuck… they’re still healing, you know,” Zayn grits out, breaths ragged. “Fuck, Li, I… I need…”

Liam sucks hard again and grinds his hips down, making Zayn growl and moan. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he promises, peppering light kisses across the ink across his chest as Zayn cries out his name again. Zayn whines desperately at his words he kisses his mouth again several times, one hand thumbing over the sensitive bud of Zayn’s left nipple and the other stroking across Zayn’s hip.

 He starts gently rocking his own hips forward, taking the other nipple between his lips again. Zayn is squirming and sweating beneath him so he pulls off, just gently rocking his hips forward again as he presses his tongue flat against the sensitive bud, not biting or sucking, but just keeping the soft pressure.

“Liam, Liam, Leeyum,” Zayn cries, sobbing as Liam keeps the pace up with his hips, rolling them just right until Zayn is coming with a choked cry all over his belly.

Liam holds him through his orgasm, slowing his pace down to a gentle rocking. He pulls up so he can kiss all over Zayn’s sweaty face, up his jaw and over his parted lips as he comes back into himself.

“Liam,” Zayn says shakily. “Fuck, baby, that was…”

“Darling,” Liam breathes out. He’s still hard as a rock but he’s in awe of what just happened, just how more responsive and desperate and beautiful Zayn looked coming apart beneath him.

“Liam...” Zayn says again, his eyes fluttering open slowly. “Liam, you- you didn’t?”

Liam shakes his head and swallows. “Baby, I wanna…” He swallows. “Fuck, Zayn, can I ride you? Shit, do you think you can get hard again?”

Zayn nods hurriedly, tugging Liam down for a kiss. They kiss for a few minutes giving Liam the chance to steady his head a little bit and giving Zayn the time to come back to earth. It takes a lot of willpower but eventually Liam pulls himself back, taking a deep breath.

“If I get myself ready,” he asks in a shaky voice, “will you get yourself hard again? Play with your gorgeous little nipples for me?”

Zayn’s eyes go wide. “Really? They’re so… fuck, Liam, I dunno if I can take it.”

“You can, darling, you can,” Liam says. He sets himself up on his knees over Zayn’s thighs and reaches forward, twisting one gently, slowly. Zayn’s back arches and he whimpers but he nods, taking the other one between his thumb and forefinger and pinching lightly.

Liam takes a deep breath and murmurs his praises to his sensitive boyfriend as he fumbles in the sheets for the lube that Zayn used on himself earlier. He gently pushes Zayn’s legs to the side and sets himself down so he’s on his back and facing Zayn, his legs bent at the knee and spread apart so he can get to his puckered hole.

Zayn keeps one hand on his nipple but wraps the other around Liam’s ankle, grinning dopily over at his boyfriend as he uncaps the lube and spreads it across his fingers. He watches Zayn shuffle higher up the bed, his lips parted ever so slightly as he tugs on his sore nipples and he presses the first finger in as Zayn lets out a pretty little moan. Slowly, he slides it into the first knuckle and lets out a heavy breath, grateful for the gentle press of Zayn’s thumb on his anklebone keeping him grounded.

He exhales shakily and presses in to the knuckle, inhaling again and sliding out to the fingertip. He moves slowly and avoids his prostate so he doesn’t come on the spot. It’s been a while so it’s not the most comfortable but he presses in and out until he’s stretched enough to take a second. He takes a deep breath and lets a second slip inside him, eyes shooting up to the ceiling as he scrapes past the spot that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“Scissor yourself,” Zayn gasps. Liam’s head drops down so his chin is resting against his chest and his eyes are blown and he nods desperately, spreading his fingers apart and whimpering . He feels so good and he’s about to pull his fingers out and clamber into Zayn’s lap when he suddenly registers fingers pressing themselves in a V around his own and then a tongue is lapping around them, causing him to fall back against the sheets and whine. His fingers are still tucked inside him and Zayn’s tongue is relentless and unexpected, the way it laps up at the dripping lube and around Liam’s fingers.

Liam’s empty hand fists itself in Zayn’s damp, sweaty hair and he kicks his legs out awkwardly at the sensations before he manages to plant his feet flat on the bed, fucking himself in and out of Zayn’s mouth and tongue in a sloppy rhythm. Zayn is unforgiving in his attack, spit dribbling down his face as he takes his hands off his nipples and grips at Liam’s thighs instead, rutting against the mattress.

“Zayn, god, Zayn,” Liam crows, his fingers stuck up his arse uselessly as Zayn licks over them. “No, Zayn, fuck, wait, need to…”

Zayn pulls his face up slowly and wipes his mouth on his shoulder. “Still wanna ride me, darling?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Wanna come on my dick, yeah? Is that what you want?”

“Fuck, Zayn,” Liam grits out again, his head lolling back as he pulls his fingers out. “You know it’s what I want, you smug little git.”

Zayn smirks weakly as he leans against the pillows. He grabs Liam’s ankle again and tugs him forward and into his lap, kissing him harshly and sloppily. “Up you get, Li,” he coaxes, rubbing his hands down Liam’s straining thighs so he raises himself up. He wraps a hand around his dick and Liam braces himself on his shoulders so he can sink down.

His mouth drops open as Zayn presses up into him, his fingers rubbing gently and soothingly over Liam’s hips as he drops down inch by inch. “Slow… sl-slow,” he says dopily, “it’s a lot, fuck…”

“Love you,” Zayn rasps, brushing Liam’s floppy hair out of his eyes so once he’s sat with his arse flush against Zayn’s hips then they can gaze into each other’s eyes for a few soothing moments.

“Love you… too,” Liam grits, taking several deep breaths as he adjusts to having Zayn deep inside him. He’s sweating all over and his thighs feel like they’re on fire but after a few minutes he picks himself up and builds up a steady rhythm. He swivels his hips and after several attempts he feels the head of Zayn’s cock rub over his prostate, causing him to let out an obscene moan.

“Yes, Liam,” Zayn hisses, fingers still digging into Liam’s hips. “Come on, babe, come on.”

Liam grabs at Zayn’s face for another sloppy kiss, though with the rhythm he’s got it’s more breathing in and out each other’s air but it’s beautiful and wonderful and Liam’s missed this so much.

He wraps his arms around Zayn’s shoulders and fucks himself harder with the extra leverage, fingers toying in the hairs on the back of Zayn’s neck. He’s so lost in chasing his own pleasure and keeping Zayn close to him that he doesn’t pay any mind to the barbells in Zayn’s chest and accidentally rubs one hard on an up thrust, making Zayn whine and cry beautifully. He takes a deep breath and pulls back, slowing his rhythm down until he can lean back and take the nipple between his fingers again.

The effect is obscene and Zayn comes after only a few seconds, filling Liam deep as he cries and collapses onto the pillows. His tired body looks completely ruined from the two orgasms and his face is slack, though after a few seconds his hand reaches forward and starts pumping at Liam’s dick.

Liam crawls off Zayn’s softening dick awkwardly and shuffles forward on his knees, his bigger hand covering Zayn’s so he can pump himself until he’s finally coming into Zayn’s slack and waiting mouth.

“Oh my god,” he pants, awkwardly rolling off Zayn’s exhausted frame and onto the mattress next to him. He tucks his face into Zayn’s neck and presses a gentle kiss into the lovebite there before Zayn slowly moves his hand up, slotting his fingers in between Liam’s bigger ones.

Liam rolls over so his chest is pressed flush against Zayn’s sweaty back. They’re both still panting and Liam’s thighs are aching like they haven’t in ages but it’s been so worth it, making Zayn come apart and hold him like this again.

“You twat,” Zayn says eventually, squeezing Liam’s fingers a little tighter. “That was quite possibly the best sex we’ve ever had and we only got to have it because you were a stubborn little arsehole all week.”

Me?” Liam asks incredulously, rolling him over hurriedly and pouting. “You were the one who bled all over the bed sheets and made me paranoid about hurting you!”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “You didn’t have to stop fucking me, you over-protective git.”

“But…”

“Leeyum,” Zayn says exasperatedly, shaking his head. “You’re allowed to use them for sexual stuff two weeks after getting them done. They just take a little longer to heal, that’s all.”

“What?!” Liam practically shouts incredulously. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you were being a stubborn arse,” Zayn says, moving forward to press a quick kiss between his eyes. “And you were being your usual over-bearing, over-protective self so I thought I’d sort you out. Didn’t really work because I just ended up getting high a lot and then having to have shitty wanks in the tour bus loo. I think Louis thinks we’ve had a big falling out.”

“So you mean I’ve been walking around with a near permanent semi and the severe paranoia that I was going to personally injure your nipples for you to teach me a lesson?”

Zayn beams. “Aren’t I the best teacher?”

“I fucking hate you,” Liam groans, knocking their foreheads together.

“Mmmm, love you too,” Zayn giggles, capturing his lips in a long, slow kiss.

“How are your nipples?” Liam murmurs after they’ve broken apart, thumbing away the connecting string of spit from the corner of Zayn’s lips.

“Fuckin’ sore,” Zayn tells him. “Fucking worth it though. Your mouth, Liam, Christ.”

“Best investment ever,” Liam grins, tracing his thumb over the left one gently. Zayn hisses and bats him away with a pout.

“Get the fuck away from them, you insatiable beast.”

“I love you,” Liam says, kissing the pout off his boyfriend’s face. “I love you so much.”

Zayn sighs like it’s a chore. “Love you too, I suppose.”

Liam smiles because he knows Zayn loves him more than anything in the world, so he’s happy.

“Should we shower?”

“Hell fucking no,” Zayn says, pressing one final kiss into Liam’s lips before he rolls over and pulls Liam’s limp arm over his waist. “We are going to fucking snuggle.”

Liam kisses the back of Zayn’s sweaty neck before he reaches over and flicks the light off from the switch by the bedside table. He falls asleep with the wonderful smell of sex and sweat and Zayn in his nostrils and the familiar, comforting feeling of his favourite boy cuddled in his arms.

*

The next morning, he wakes up with a sticky belly, a sore arse and a text from Harry which just reads headache, eh? followed by a string of rude emojis. He texts him back a picture of him flipping him the finger followed by Mind ur own business styles u know wht u signed up for w/ me and zayn

(He also makes Zayn come all over his belly again from just sucking and biting at his nipples until Zayn is sobbing and writhing underneath him. He thinks the nipple piercings might have been the greatest thing that Zayn’s ever done.)

(Zayn can’t wear a t-shirt other than the softest one Louis owns or one of Liam’s stretchy vests for three days. Liam doesn’t let the smug grin drop from his face for the entire time, even when Zayn glares and pouts at him. It’s worth it.)