ZIAM ONE-SHOTS (BOTTOM LIAM)

maybe i just wanna be yours

Author: weareonceinalifetime

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420912

Summary:

Nothing about Liam is Zayn's type, but he's attracted to him anyway. More and more often lately, he finds himself drifting off thinking about the way those muscles would move under his hands, the way that scruff would feel against the insides of his thighs, the way Liam would moan into his mouth when he dug his nails into the smooth skin of his back.

So when his hand finds its way onto his cock, it's no surprise that he's thinking of Liam.

Zayn doesn't mean for it to happen, he really doesn't. Liam is attractive, definitely, but nothing about him is really Zayn's type—he's too nice, too clean-cut, with his broad shoulders and strong jawline and Captain America haircut. He's apple pie and football and summer days at the beach, when what Zayn's always been drawn to is vodka and cigarettes and rainy nights. Nothing about Liam should do anything for him beyond simple aesthetic appreciation, and yet he can't get the guy out of his head.

They're not the most compatible roommates, not even close. Liam is an early riser and Zayn is a night owl. Zayn prefers to listen to music while he works, preferably rap, while Liam needs absolute silence. Neither of them is particularly neat, but they're messy in different ways. Nothing about them gels, really, except that they get along so well that Zayn can't imagine life without Liam as his roommate, even though they've only known each other for six weeks.

The night it happens, Zayn thinks he's alone. He should be alone, because Liam is staying over at Niall's so they can go surfing early the next morning, and Louis and Harry are visiting Harry's mom and sister for the weekend, and the girls are having a girls' night—they'd invited Zayn, last minute, but as much as he loved them, he wasn't keen on watching Mean Girls with them while they drank cheap wine and painted their nails. Besides, it was their girls time, and it would have been rude to crash it, even invited.

Instead he stays in, has a few beers, smokes half a pack of cigarettes in the apartment because Liam isn't there to tell him not to, and doodles absentmindedly before realizing that his drawing is starting to look an awful lot like Liam and, okay, he has to face up to this sooner or later.

Nothing about Liam is Zayn's type, but he's attracted to him anyway. More and more often lately, he finds himself drifting off thinking about the way those muscles would move under his hands, the way that scruff would feel against the insides of his thighs, the way Liam would moan into his mouth when he dug his nails into the smooth skin of his back.

So when his hand finds its way onto his cock, it's no surprise that he's thinking of Liam, imagining it's Liam's big hand wrapped around him, Liam's lips against his neck, whispering tell me what you like, Zayn, gonna make it so good for you.

And when he comes, spilling over his own hand and onto his sweatpants, it's no surprise that Liam's name is the one that falls from his lips.

It is, however, a surprise when he opens his eyes, his body limp and spent, to find Liam standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

"Uh . . . hi," Liam says, his gaze straying down to Zayn's hand, still resting on his cock, before flying back up to his face. He's turned bright red, and he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, biting his lip. "I just came back to get my phone charger. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Zayn winces, praying that Liam hadn't heard his own name coming out of Zayn's mouth. "It's cool. I should go shower."

"Right." Liam nods, and then he snatches up his phone charger and darts out of the room, leaving Zayn still on his bed in his come-covered sweatpants, wondering how awkward he's just made things.