FLO: I Am Not My Father's Son [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

7

3 years ago

On a cold morning in January of 1993, a beautiful boy would be born. Screaming at the top of his lungs, announcing his arrival to the world, Zayn Javadd Malik came to be and would be loved from day one.

For years, celebrating his birthday had always been a party divided into two moments: 1) a nice and soft family brunch, where he was showered with gifts and love from both sides of his family and 2) spending time with his friends, which as he got older translated into booze, weed, music and good times. Every year. No exception.

As the years continued to roll by him, manifesting in grey hairs timidly appearing on his black mane or weird pains on his knees, Zayn had become more fond of the first option: a moment with his family. On occasion, he'd have a pint or two with other friends on his birthday - long gone were the days of young debauchery where drinking until he passed out was mandatory.

Now, he'd rather take the day off, sleep late, stay home, have a few close friends over for dinner, sing happy birthday and go to sleep.

That was the plan on that day.

He slept peacefully, on his back, with an arm draped over his face, while another cold January morning gave way. Suddenly, he felt...odd.

Or curious.

No, it was a good feeling. It was warm, and wet and felt good. It had a pace to it. Up and down. Or was it in or out?

A funny sound came out of his throat and he heard a light chuckle close by. He felt a wave creeping within him. He was tilting over. Coming off from the dreamlands, into reality with ease he couldn't quite explain. It was soft. It was welcoming. It was so good.

Removing his arm from his face, Zayn blinked repeatedly, making sure he was awake. Again another sound came from inside of him. And he knew what was happening, now that he was fully awake.

Looking down, he saw it and nearly lost his mind. There was Harry, between his legs, with his tongue navigating around his taint and looking right at Zayn. His pink tongue moved up, licking a long strip out of his pulsating cock. Zayn hissed at the sight, meeting Harry's lustful eyes. He was enjoying himself, licking stripes, from bottom to the top, mimicking an ice cream.

When the photographer swallowed him whole, Zayn completely lost himself. The only thing he could do was watch as his husband went deep on him, taking him all in his mouth. Was he dreaming?

No, the hand on Harry's hair confirmed it to be real. The sounds Harry was making seemed rather real. The moans escaping Zayn's lips were just as a reality as the grip Harry had on his cock. The feeling of hitting the back of Harry's throat was real as the softness of his tongue.

Zayn tried to keep quiet, after all, Jaimie was sleeping just down the hall, and couldn't dare to wake him up with such foul noises. His moans came out quiet, like sighs and hisses.

Looking down, the saliva and pre cum were dripping down his cock as Harry kept going. They exchanged glances full of hunger and desire. Zayn latched a hand over his mouth, keeping a yelp in.

This triggered Harry, who stopped altogether and came crawling back up. Zayn lost it all when he felt Harry slide inside of him and begin his motion. Their kiss was full of him, covering Harry's lips and tongue. They tried to be quiet with their motion and panting, muffled behind their hands or smothering them with kisses.

Zayn was closer to the top than Harry, who was watching with the utmost admiration and reverence for the pleasure the birthday boy showed. It was all about him today. It was all for him. A louder moan escaped Zayn's lips and Harry covered his mouth, as they neared the end.