Playing the part (Ziam)

Chapter 29: Daddy Duties

The night had started innocently enough—or at least as innocently as it could in the aftermath of Liam's drunken "daddy" texts and Zayn's relentless teasing. Liam had tried to hold his ground, play it cool, and not let Zayn get to him.

That lasted all of five minutes.

Somewhere between Zayn tossing his sketchbook aside and Liam trying (and failing) to ignore the way Zayn's smirk could probably start a small fire, the dam broke.

"Still thinking about those texts, babe?" Zayn asked, his voice low and teasing as he leaned against the headboard, one leg stretched out and the other bent. He looked far too comfortable, like he wasn't absolutely destroying Liam's composure.

"I was drunk, you prick," Liam shot back, crossing his arms. "Don't make it a thing."

"Oh, it's a thing," Zayn said, his grin positively sinful. He tilted his head, dark eyes locking onto Liam's. "Question is, are you gonna own it, or are you too chicken?"

Liam bristled, stepping closer to the bed. "I'm not fucking chicken."

"Prove it, then," Zayn challenged, his smirk widening.

And that was all it took.

Hours later, Liam lay sprawled on the bed, his hair a mess, his chest heaving, and his body sore in ways he didn't even think were possible. Zayn, looking far too smug for someone who had just wrecked another human being, propped himself up on one elbow, tracing lazy patterns on Liam's bare shoulder.

"You good, babe?" Zayn asked, his tone amused but with a hint of genuine concern.

"No," Liam groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I think you broke me."

"Didn't hear you complaining," Zayn replied, smirking as he leaned down to press a kiss to Liam's neck—right over one of the new, very prominent love bites he'd left.

Liam flinched, swatting at him weakly. "Oi! Enough with the fucking marks. I look like I got into a fight with a goddamn vacuum cleaner."

"Yeah, and I won," Zayn said, laughing as he rolled onto his back.

"Shut the fuck up," Liam muttered, his face burning.

"Aw, come on, babe," Zayn teased, looking over at him. "You weren't saying that earlier. What was it again? Oh, right—'Yes, daddy.'"

Liam threw a pillow at him. "I swear to God, Malik—"

"Careful," Zayn interrupted, catching the pillow with one hand. "You keep calling me 'Malik' in that tone, and we'll be heading for round four."

Liam groaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. "I can't fucking stand you."

Zayn grinned, reaching over to ruffle Liam's hair. "You love me, babe."

"Not even a little," Liam grumbled, though the small smile tugging at his lips said otherwise.

By the time morning rolled around, Liam could barely move. Every muscle in his body ached, his neck and chest were a minefield of hickeys, and walking was... a challenge, to say the least.

"Fuck you, Malik," Liam muttered as he shuffled towards the bathroom, wincing with every step.

"Already did, babe," Zayn called from the bed, his voice smug as ever.

Liam glared at him over his shoulder. "You're a fucking menace."

"And you're fucking loud," Zayn shot back, smirking. "Pretty sure the entire floor knows who daddy is now."

"Jesus Christ," Liam muttered, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.

When the lads barged into the room later that morning, they were met with the aftermath of the previous night: an unmade bed, Liam sitting stiffly at the table with a coffee mug in hand, and Zayn lounging on the couch with his sketchbook, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Louis raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "What the hell happened here?"

"Nothing," Liam said quickly, taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Bullshit," Louis replied, crossing his arms. "You look like you got run over by a truck."

"More like three trucks," Niall added, grinning.

"And why does he look like the cat that got the cream?" Harry asked, gesturing to Zayn, who was smirking behind his sketchbook.

"Maybe because I did," Zayn said, winking at Liam.

Liam groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I fucking hate all of you."

"Love you too, babe," Zayn said, laughing.