Smut

Zayn Malik Smut

It was going to be one of those days.

From the moment, your eyes began to react to the sunlight pouring through the open window, you could feel that this Monday was going to ache throughout the whole day. Groaning, you mentally scanned through your schedule as you started to slowly rise from the bed sheets crinkled and tangled beneath your back. You had managed to jam every little thing you couldn't do when you were working into today and it made for a hectic one. Unfortunately, your mind and body were not onboard with your schedule. You really didn't want to do anything that involved not laying around and snacking on cookies like they were a good source of oxygen.

You curled your toes as soon as they reached the carpeted floor, but before you could stand up and stretch, your felt a balmy hand over your wrist, keeping you to the mattress.

"Where do you think you're going?" Groggily, with half of his face still squished into his pillow, your boyfriend asked.

Turning over your t-shirt covered shoulder, you spotted Zayn, all tattoos and scruff, keeping his eyes closed to avoid the sun forcing him out of bed. He had the morning off and wasn't expected in the studio until quarter to one. You had been asleep when he crawled in next to you, asking if the idea of breakfast together at Junior's Diner two blocks away appealed. He had plans for the two of you and they didn't include you getting up early and running errands.

"I have to get in the shower. I have so much to do today." Very softly, you replied with regret in your voice. You would have sold your soul to the devil if it meant you could climb back into bed and snuggle up to his body as it was toasting under the morning light.

"Nope." Zayn shook his head discreetly, still cuddled up to his pillow and still holding his hand over yours. "You're not going anywhere." Slowly, he parted his eyes open and laid their delicious darkness over you, a smirk sleepy, but present on his face. "I get you all to myself this morning." He told you with a small stretch, moving onto his back and inhaling deeply, letting his stomach fall in along with the rhythm of his breaths.

"No can do, I'm afraid." With your only free hand, you shook your hair and let it cascade down your neck. "I have an endless list of things to accomplish." Clearly, he had missed that before when you explained you were busy today.

Zayn's eyes were unamused as they shifted away from the ceiling and onto you, glowing like a halo in the streaming sunlight, perfectly centered in the window. He pushed the covers lower and removed his hand from yours to adjust his morning wood beneath his sweat pants.

"I'll help you with that list...if you help me." He suggested.

As if his offer wasn't tempting enough, his hand moved his bulge which you had become very well acquainted with and the choreography was making your bones twinge. You hadn't been aroused at all when you woke up. The fact that you had to get out of bed kept you as dry as the eyes of murderess above the corpse of her two-timing husband, but you could feel a pond beginning to grow between your legs.

"You'll pick up the dry cleaning?" Leaning back onto the bed, you checked.

Affirmatively, he nodded and slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of his pants.

"You'll take donations to the Salvation Army?" You were up now, your knees pushing into the mattress as you sat right next to him. With hungry eyes, you watched the motion of his hand stroking his hard groin.

Again, Zayn nodded.

"And will you - "

The question was never asked or answered, as Zayn had snaked his empty hand behind your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. His mouth was greedy. Usually, he was soft and gentle, opening up your lips with his tongue and massaging yours. His hands studied your body like the overworked spine of a well enjoyed book, but not this morning. He brought his other hand out from under his sweats and went right to your stomach, sliding it up your tepid skin and finding a free breast to knead.