Him

!! 04. Match in the rain.

The way back home was full of sexual tension. Zayn was driving, but his hand was traveling on Harry's tight. Harry was looking forward to it. Sex has always been the best way for both to get rid of any tension or stress.

They had rules of course. No wait there was only one rule. Never doing anything if the other was out of it, or if one of them was involved in any sort of relationship. It can seem normal and obvious, but some could say cheating is a normal thing. They were best friends, so they knew when to begin and when to stop. They never crossed any lines.

"Hey," Zayn caught his attention by squeezing his tight, "You zoned out again, you're sure you're alright?" he asked softly.

"Yes, of course," he assured him because he knew why Zayn asked this question, "At least it's gonna get better in a few minutes," he winked and smirked. 

And with that Zayn accelerated to get them home as soon as possible.

When they arrived, they both became as fast as lighting to climb to their floor and unlock their door. But as Harry struggled to get his key out to put them in the door, Zayn was already kissing and sucking his neck. With his hands on his hips and breathing hot hair on his neck. They were both starting to become hard, and things needed to be done.

"Harry, open the fucking door," he groaned.

"'M shaking, gimme a second," and finally the key slipped in the keyhole and the door flew open. Soon, Zayn took Harry by the waist and guided him inside the flat. He threw their bags on the floor, and in a smooth motion, he pinned Harry to the closed door.

"God," he breathed. It has been a long time since he hasn't been fucked properly.

Zayn looked a moment in his eyes. He took in how blown out his pupils were, and how the green was almost completely drawn out of his eyes. He gave him a small nod, as to ask confirmation of his consent. Harry answered with the same nod before wrapping his arms around his neck and attacked his lips furiously.

The man took the message as he wrapped his arms around his thighs to lift him from the floor and wrapped them around his hips.

The kiss was slow, full of tongues and lips. The feeling of lust driving them. They were familiar with the feeling. Zayn wondered multiple times if harry was covering his lips with honey because the sweetness of them was astonishing.

Harry slipped his hands in Zayn's hair and took a handful of dark locks. Zayn groaned and bucked his hips into Harry's. The men both moaned at the feeling, both hard, and Harry continued to grind down on his best friend.

"Oh my God," Zayn broke the kiss first and started to kiss down Harry's neck, "You're killing me."

"Then move to the room dickhead," Harry moaned as Zayn sucked on his soft spot.

And with that, he lifted Harry from the wall and walked down the corridor to his room. Zayn's room was full of posters, and art, that were hanging on the walls. Harry always loved the feeling and the smells of his room. It felt very familiar and smelled like fresh cigarettes and homemade cookies, which was funny because he didn't know how to bake.

Zayn dropped Harry on his bed and climbed on top of him. His hands started to roam his body. This body that he got to learn with the years. He knew every imperfection, dimples, freckles of Harry's anatomy.

Harry traveled Zayn's back with his hands and quickly slipped them under his jumper. He lightly touched the burning skin of his back and clawed his nails into it when he felt a hot hand wrapped around his clothed bulge. He moaned and gripped the aim of Zayn's jumper to lift it over his head.