We had a Deal- Ziam

16.

(*I am honestly so mad at myself*)

Next morning Liam lazily blinks his eyes open, smiling to himself as he snuggles into his blanket, taking in the smell of fresh blackcurrant shower gel. His gasped, now feeling more awake as the smell invaded his senses more. Smells like Zayn. He could feel the black velvet of Zayn's blanket in his palms but he is so sacred to look down or look anywhere in general.

“Please don’t be what I think it is” he softly pats the side beside him and sighs when the place is cold empty. At least he is alone. “I must be dreami-“ he shifts a little and pain shoots right up his spine, “Oh shit” he face palms himself, “I am naked”, he concludes, eye roaming around the walls,  “in his bed”, and suddenly his head is a lot heavier than it was moments ago.

He carefully sits, first making sure there is no sign of Zayn, and looks around to find any clothes and of course the reminder of stripping down the hallways rubs him in the face.

He whines, purposefully ignores the tablet on the nightstand and stands to leave the room. His heart jumping in his throat when he heard Zayn's voice.

He peeks his head out, finds Zayn in the kitchen and cringes when he finds his underwear on the armchair, “ew”, he carefully goes in his room and when he is inside he slams the door in relief and instantly regrets it. “Shit. What have I done! STUPID LIAM”, and when there's a knock on his door, he trips on his way to the bathroom, again closing the washroom door with a slam.

Though he is under a panic attack, he rewinds his memory of last night and steps into a hot shower, and in a beat, memory of his back pressed against the cold glass as Zayn hovered over him, his lips sucking the droplets off his collarbone while Liam’s fingers threaded his ink-black hair invades his brain.

Liam closed his eyes shut and rested his head back on the ower glass, he gently traced his finger on his skin, feeling the burn where he could feel Zayn's lips from the night and he bites his lip when his dick twitches at the memory of that, “Fuck”

‘Ignorance is a bliss', he tells himself as he changes and steps out of his room. Though his built up confidence is flushed out down the gutter when he hears another sound coming from the kitchen he keeps his posture straight and walks towards the source.

And Zayn doesn’t have a shirt on. That’s the first thing he notices and his entire face warms up. Since he hasn’t acknowledged his presence, he uses it as an excuse to let his eyes roam across Zayn's narrow waist, tattooed splashed collar and the way he shoulder bones sketched when Zayn tried opening a jar.

He is quite distracted which is why he abruptly turns and slams his head into the wall when Zayn whirls his head towards him.

Extremely embarrassed Liam rubs his head and cautiously whips his head to find Zayn biting his lip to suppress his laughter.

“Breakfast?” he asks, folding his hands against his naked torso.

“S-sure”, Liam hisses and instantly regrets it because Zayn is turning around, showing his obscene back which is covered in angry scratches.

“Fuck”, and Liam has not be more turned on in his life before.

“We gonna talk?” Zayn asks, opening a water bottle and that’s when Liam noticed the way Zayn's hand was shaking as if he is nervous and Liam can so tell he is.

“About what?” Liam shrugs his shoulders, acting like he is no idea what Zayn is talking about.

There’s a pitch of worry in Zayn's eyes when he says, “about last night?”