Urban Ink [A Ziall Fic]

Twelve [Last Night]

.Niall doesn't remember anything. He feels like he has been hit with a truck. There is a strange soreness that is covering his body. He feels like his mouth is like a desert and head is pounding. Slowly, he opens his eyes and tries to get a grip on his surroundings. He realizes that he is staring at a white wall, a wall that is a lot different from the one in his room. Which brings up the question, where is he really? That’s when he feels the weight draped over his side, and he swallows. Shit. He went to the club. He remembers. Danced with Zayn. Got Drunk. Probably ended up at some girl’s house miles away from home. He wants to yell at himself, but it’s so eerily quiet he is afraid to make a noise. He lays there for a few minutes more, before turning over slowly, trying not to wake the person beside him.

That’s when Niall sees the person’s beautiful tan skin, and slim figure. Only it’s not a girl. It’s Zayn.

Niall suddenly wants to scream and he can’t believe that he is really laying in bed, naked, with Zayn Malik. He rolls further over and sees Zayn’s face. It’s peaceful, serene, and happy. Something that looks so beautiful on his features. A part of Niall knows he needs to wake Zayn, and ask what happened, because he surely doesn’t remember. But another part of him wants to slip out, unnoticed, and never speak to Zayn again. Surely, the embarrassment will never wear off. Niall is about to shift again when he sees himself. His normally perfect and pale skin is riddled with love bites, covering him from head to toe. Some on his chest, his stomach, his thighs, and one so close to his privates he wants to scream yet again.

Niall loses it then, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck,”

Zayn stirs but doesn’t wake yet.

“Zayn, wake up, please. Fuck,” Niall feels like crying. Was he that drunk last night? Did he really let himself sleep with his….friend? Enemy? He grabs Zayn’s shoulder and shakes him, “Please wake up, please Zayn,”

Zayn’s golden eyes snap open, and he finds himself staring right into Niall’s. Zayn’s eyes widen and his mouth opens and goes into a little ‘o’. He licks his lips, “Oh my God, Niall, that was….more than a dream? Did we really…?”

“I don’t remember!” Niall says angrily, “Fuck Zayn, what did we do?”

“You were drunk,” Zayn reminds, “At the club, The Purple Monkey, remember? We were dancing,”

“And you let me get drunk. So I was drunk. Were you?” Niall asks.

“Why does that matter?” Zayn sits himself up on his shoulder, exposing so much skin Niall has the sudden urge to press his lips to the tattoo right there, in the center of his chest. But he stops himself and stares harder at Zayn.

“Because if you were sober, then you could have…you could have stopped us,” Niall says. Tears well up in his eyes.

“No, I couldn’t stop, Niall. You were begging for it,” Zayn says, reaching forward and grabbing Niall’s bare shoulders. The skin on skin feels really good but both of them refuse to say anything about it, “I can’t believe that you don’t remember,”

“I just,” Niall can’t believe it. He begged Zayn to have sex with him? His head feels like it’s about to explode and he grabs the blanket from the bed, pulling it to cover him and exposing Zayn in all his glory. Niall stares but then turns and walks towards the bathroom, “I’m sorry,”

“Niall, wait, please, don’t give me the cold shoulder again. We can’t just ignore the fact that we had sex,”

“We can, and we will,”

“No, Niall, stop it please,”

“Just forget it Zayn,” Niall pulls the blanket tighter around him and clenches his eyes shut.

“No Niall!” Zayn has been so silent about all of this for so long. He’s sat on the sidelines. He has let Niall do whatever he wants. But Zayn can’t take it anymore. “You’re breaking my heart,” He bursts into tears, “If you aren’t staying, then that’s it. I’m leaving. And this time you can’t come running in and begging me to stay.

Niall freezes in his spot, “If I stay, what are you going to talk about?”

“We,” Zayn emphasizes, “Are going to talk about us, because I can’t just keep doing this love hate thing. I’m confused and so heartbroken by it.”

Zayn is being dead honest. Niall sees it. His heart is pounding, but he slowly walks towards Zayn and takes off the blanket, distributing it between them so neither of them are exposed. It seems to be the best idea as of now. It’s a good way to start. Zayn timidly reaches out and brushes his hand over Niall’s chest, where a particularly dark love bite is. Niall looks down at it and swallows, “So can you tell me exactly what happened? I don’t remember and I feel like I should. I’m sorry. I just. I don’t handle drinks very well. I haven’t been clubbing very recently. Uh, actually, I’ve never really done it until last night and all I remember is walking in and seeing that everyone was like you and then I don’t remember anything else,”

“Yeah well um. We danced. Kinda, dirty. And you started clawing at my shirt and asked me to kiss you. And I didn’t fight. I just did it. Because I thought you were still sober and that it was going to mean something. The kiss. I thought it would change things for good. That we would stop fighting and just move on and maybe kiss more often,” Zayn blushes, “But somehow you ended up dragging me to the car and we came back here and…then…yeah…”

“So we had sex,” Niall says, “I had sex….with a guy,”

Zayn smiles a bit, “And apparently you liked it,”

“What?” Niall is the one blushing now.

“You just…you were very enthusiastic. How about we say that?” Zayn laughed a little bit, “And you kept saying, ‘I’m totally doing this again’ over and over again,”

Niall’s blush turns to an intense red and then he mutters, “Did we like umm…actually like…fuck? Or did we just….”

“We did it all,” Zayn says, “But you aren’t sore, because you topped. You were too afraid to do otherwise,”

“I just can’t believe this,”

“Me either,”

“So,” Niall says, “You aren’t upset? Or freaked out?”

“No, as long as you aren’t,”

“I’m not,”

“Good,”

“Perfect,”

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Hello everyone! I know it has been awhile but I'm updating now!! I'm sorry. I've just been busy and stressed.

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