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“Zayn, please come back. I fucki-- ohh, fuck.” Harry moans. He's on his side, facing away from Zayn breathing deeply now that Zayn's cock is finally back inside of him. Zayn chuckles in response, edging back out, teasing, until only the tip of him is left inside.
“Patience, babe. Remember what I told you?” He asks calmly into Harry's neck. He fluctuates between soft kisses and hard bites in the soft skin, a contrast that causes Harry to stay alert. Just like Zayn likes it. Just how Harry needs it. Harry likes being hurt. Likes being pushed out of his comfort zone for the pleasure of others, especially Zayn. The older of the two pushes forward a bit, just to hear Harry whine, only wants to hear him beg. His thrusts start slow, achingly slow and it takes all of Harry's willpower not to drive back on them. “Come on babe, what'd I tell you last time?”
Harry whimpers a bit, feeling Zayn edging back into him little by little. He doesn't understand how Zayn does it, or maybe it's Harry. Maybe Harry isn't doing enough, not if Zayn can control himself. “You told me.” Harry breathes out, wind being knocked out of him as Zayn starts to speed up, his cock pulling at the muscles of Harry. “Not to.. to be greedy. Be grateful. Take what you give me.” Harry's eyes are closed, other senses heightened. The moans he lets out become more frequent and louder, god is he loud now. Zayn doesn't complain.
His ears can hear Zayn's intake of breathe as he searches for words. He can feel how much he's being stretched, knows how dirty he must look. Back arched, leg thrown around himself, ass tight around Zayn as he drives back into him, merciless pace now.
Zayn grunts out his approval, bringing his hand around to Harry's hip, not touching his cock yet. He's showing Harry that this is for him, he's in control here what he wants he gets.
“And are you grateful?” He questions into Harry's ear, moving to nip at his earlobe.
“Yes.” Harry moans out immediately. “Always grateful to you. Always grateful for your cock.” His words are choppy, the bed feeling like it's vibrating from the constant force of Zayn's thrusts. His head is in danger of hitting Zayn's every time he plunges into him, but he can't help but think he wouldn't care if that happened.
Harry's knocked out of his trance as Zayn pulls out roughly and throws him onto his back. He doesn't waste time getting back to what's his, what he owns. Harry throws his head back when Zayn enters him again, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
Zayn covers Harry's body with his own, bending his knees up to his chest to make him tighter.
“Maybe next time, you'll actually put some work in.” Zayn grunts, pulling almost all the way out to slam back in.
Harry's confused, not sure if this is play or a slight punishment. He barely get out a “What?” before he breaks out into another drawn out moan, head hitting back into the pillows.
Zayn sits back on his knees and pulls the younger boy's legs up on his shoulders, searching for the angle that'll suit him best. “You heard me.” He says looking down, a smile playing on his features. “You just lay here and...and -oh fuck- you just take it. Maybe not next time though, yeah?”
Harry whines and nods his head. “Okay, whatever you want I swear.” His back breaks into a bow as Zayn finds his prostate with unbelievable accuracy and his eyesight starts to cloud ; tears of anticipation filling them.
“You like that?” Zayn laughs, it's not a question and they both know it so Zayn continues with out a reply, other than the jolt of Harry's hips to get more of Zayn inside of him. “Gonna ride me, later yeah? Bounce on my cock?”
“Fuckkk, yes Zayn. I will.” Harry answers back, hooking his legs around the back of Zayn's neck careful not to squeeze to tight.
Zayn doesn't slow up as he brings his face back down to Harry's, fixing his legs around his waist so it's not painful for him. “Bet you'd be so good. Fucking yourself down, making me feel good.”
“S'all I want.” Harry moans back, louder than before the conversation started. Zayn can tell the effect it has on him by the way he clenches down on his cock. “Only wanna make you feel good.”
“Be a good boy?” Zayn goes faster, determined to finish them off right.
“Yes, yes, yes, your good boy!” Harry all but yells back. “Can I-- touch? Please let me touch myself.” Sparse tears stream down his face now, the need to come almost painful and the way that Zayn's abs run across his cock on each upstroke....
“Go ahead. Show me how good you make yourself feel.” Zayn doesn't even finish his sentence before he himself comes, the thought of Harry struggling on his dick too much, and Harry has a hand on his cock, a slippery sound emitting as he works it. It barely takes five strokes before he's coming tight around Zayn's cock, the same image Zayn had pulling him over the edge.
And Harry really hopes Zayn doesn't forget about what's supposed to happen 'next time'.
__
It isn't that either of them are busy throughout the day, it's just that Zayn's the biggest fucking tease to ever walk the earth and if there's one thing he's good at it's control. He knows he has Harry in the palm of his hand now and he refuses to let him crawl back out. This isn't the first time Zayn has done something like this, fulfilled his promise only after patience.
“I'm gonna fuck you so good, as soon as we get home.”
“Leave now, then?”
“Not yet babe, still dancing.”
“But it's been three hours.”
“...Be good.”
Zayn's a selfish and powerful person by nature, but Harry's never objected.
It's been two weeks, fourteen days and 336 hours since Zayn mentioned 'next time'. And so far there's been at least five 'next times', that haven't given Harry anything different. He doesn't mean to sound pushy or overbearing, but it's nearly impossible to ignore a proposal that hot. Harry's never done it before, with anyone. It's not that he hasn't want to, because he has,does he's just never been confident enough in sex to speak up when he wants something different. He doesn't initiate, doesn't know how, he just pushes a bit but he wants to learn.
He wants it so bad, to be on top, in a power position over Zayn even if it's just a small one. Many things can be said about Zayn, but not one of those things can be that he goes back on his word. Sure, heat and passion can make a person say and perform actions they wouldn't in normal circumstances, but this is Zayn we're talking about. He doesn't break. He means what he says and says what he means with no regrets or second-thoughts.
Harry wants to bring it up, wants to say what's on his mind. Only problem is he can't figure out how to spit it out without stuttering.
__
Late on next Saturday night the pair both come stumbling in from a night out. Only leaving once of Zayn's pink-haired exes he had during his i-think-might-want-cock-but-i'm-not-sure-yet phase caught wind of him and proceeded to tell him off for changing the locks. Harry all the while found it hilarious, Zayn didn't however. Sub par humor and all that he has.
Zayn strips off, telling Harry to do the same. Harry does so without argument, not that he'd have reason to put one up in the first place.
Naked and patient, Harry stands. He's not uncomfortable or awkward. Zayn does this a lot actually, though Zayn's usually clothed. Zayn does it more often lately than normal, make Harry stand or sit in front of him for his viewing pleasure. Most of the time Zayn will lounge out on the couch pretending to be interested in t.v and downing a pint, looking over every now and then, mapping Harry out, burning patterns into his skin with eyesight.
Sometimes Harry will do it himself. If Zayn's too tired from working at the record company and Harry has too much energy left over from uni, he'll put on a show without hoping for something in return. Falling to his knees, getting ready himself, laying on his back; Harry's not a stranger to any of this. With all this being said, he feels as if though he could do more for his lover. He could do more than just take it , or be an open throat. He knows he could and maybe now, Zayn'll let him.
“Zayn?” He asks quietly, dropping his head down.
“Shh.” He replies back, walking towards the center of the room towards Harry. Their lips almost touch, breathing the other's air supply. “We're gonna do something special tonight okay? I'll bet you'll be so good at it.” Zayn runs a hand down Harry's side, the things he can do.
Harry shivers at the cold hand on his bare skin and tries to steady his breathing. He knows he should be embarrassed, that Zayn can get him this riled up even after all this time. Harry isn't though. He isn't because he knows it's not just him that Zayn has this effect on. It's just a talent of his, really. To have the ability to make you want to kiss his feet if he asked after one smile.
“What are we going to do?” His voice is steadier than he thought it would be, which he's thankful for, but Zayn can see through his facade.
“It's more or less, what you're going to do.” Zayn smiles, it's sly and seductive and Harry can feel his stomach roll into his throat. “No more back work hun, your turn now.” He breathes into the other boy's ear.
Harry can feel his breath hitch on it's way through his mouth as he tries to get words out. Zayn doesn't give him a chance to attempt it again before he's grabbing him by the wrist to pull into their bed room.
“Not yet, Haz.” Zayn says sharply as Harry goes to lay on the bed, automatically thinking that Zayn would follow him.
Harry stops and stands up, unsure and fidgety. Zayn doesn't say anything for a while, just lets Harry bounce on his toes in anticipation and nervousness. Harry twiddles his thumbs with his head down, awaiting instructions afraid of doing something wrong again.
“Harry.” His head shoots up, pupils blown out. He's sweating already and they haven't even touched yet. His hands fall to his sides, palms down.
“Yes?”
“Have you figured this out yet?
“Yes.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Are you gonna make this good for me?”
“Yes.”
He smiles again, an adoring one this time. One that pours out love and emotion, something Harry rarely gets raw.
“Let's get to it then,yeah?”
It only takes ten minutes to get Harry writhing. Zayn's got three fingers inside him, hand on his hip to keep him from bucking up. This is something that happens often. It doesn't take much to get Harry breathless. A simple touch, a smile, a kiss that's a smidgen too hard and Harry's undressed before Zayn can give him word to. And that's usually good, when Harry makes decision(small ones, miniscule only) in bed by himself. He doesn't do it verbally, ever, but his actions always speak far louder than his words could. Thing is now, it's Zayn's time to instruct, but some eagerness never hurt. It's no different now, when Harry's loosened, palming at Zayn's chest, trying to get him to lay back. Zayn doesn't want that now, and Harry better realize it.
“No, Harry.” He says sternly, eyes still fixated between Harry's legs. The tops of his thighs are wet with lube, and Harry's hole is pretty and puckered and pink. Zayn knows he won't last once he's inside him.
“Please.” He whines out, left arm grabbing on to Zayn's waist. His lower layer of his hair is sticking to his forehead by sweat and he feels as if he's on fire with it. “You have to let me, I wanna--” He manages out before his head is lolling to the side in a moan as Zayn curls two of his fingers up, but allowing one to drive straight back in. Harry's never gotten used to all the tricks, and he certainly hopes that doesn't change.
“When I say.” Zayn growls out, bending his head down to nip at Harry's neck. He's put more lube on his fingers and he's fucking his digits in so fast it's making an obscene squishing noise each time he pulls out. Harry thinks it's the best part. Zayn thinks they're just getting started.
“I'm begging..”
Zayn picks his head up from where he'd been sucking on Harry's pulse point to look him in the eye. Harry's are watery and red, blush staining his cheeks in the most wonderful way possible.
“Okay. Yeah, okay Harry.” He pulls out his fingers quickly, ducking down to give Harry a quick peck on the mouth.
Harry sucks in a breathe before smiling up at Zayn, exposing his dimples. He goes pliant for a while as he allows Zayn to flip them over so Harry's on top.
Harry's rutting across Zayn's stomach before Zayn's back is even against the bed. Zayn pulls down his face, making Harry's lips touch his. They kiss slowly slowslow let this be slow before Harry becomes impatient at the tempo.
“Zayn, come on.” Harry bounces on his stomach, cock hard and waiting with his legs folded under, positioned on each side of Zayn's torso.
Zayn smiles a bit, happy to see that he's not alone in how much he wants this. He can put up a good front, but his heart feels like it's about to explode with how aroused he is.
“You gonna listen to me?”
“If you want.” Harry bites his lip, running his hand up Zayn's chest as if he has to convince him, like he isn't three inches from Zayn's cock. Zayn likes it though, how Harry overcompensates in the most delicious way. How he's always begging for Zayn's attention.
“Slow at first.” Zayn says, then gives a slight nod to let Harry know to continue on. He leans back against the pillows, trusting Harry to do the correct thing.
Harry doesn't disappoint. Slowly, but surely he sinks himself onto Zayn's cock, the tip catching on his rim in a way that's just a tinge away from painful. As soon as he feels his arse on Zayn's hips he lets his head fall back in a deep moan, letting the feeling of being full overtake him.
“What now?” He breathes out, eyes closed.
“Just-- just move your hips a bit. In a circle if you will.” Zayn's words are strained, but Harry's too focused on getting this right to notice. He wants to take charge though, so he needs to do this fast and hard. If Zayn'll let him, that is.
Harry goes through with the command, earning a satisfying moan from Zayn. Harry seems tighter like this, may it be the angle or nervousness making his body tense, Zayn doesn't know. All he knows is that it's shocking pleasure through his body and he needs more now.
“Can I go now Zayn? By myself, yeah?”
“'Course babe.” And finally..
Harry wastes no time, fucking himself down hard. He's trying his hardest to keep this slow and controlled Zayn can tell, but he's too fucking close for that. He wants to draw it out, but he figures, they can make this sensual another time.
“Faster Harry, come on. Want to see you come on my cock.” Zayn moans again, Harry's eyes wide and mouth pink. His words have the desired effect and Harry balances himself on Zayn's thighs behind him as his moans get louder and more high pitched.
“Zayn, zayn, please.” Harry falls forward, pushing out his hands to balance himself on Zayn's chest. He's not even thinking any more, just riding on instinct. Rolling himself closer to bliss.
“What do you need babe?” Zayn asks, rubbing his hands up Harry's sides, close to coming himself.
“Can you touch--- touch me?” His breathe seems to be leaving harsher now, in pants. His back is starting to hurt and his legs are cramping but it's not even important because he has to get off. Has to get Zayn off.
“Oh, m'cock not enough for you then?” Zayn aids, banter never failing.
“No,no,no,no. Just—I need. Need something, oh fuck.” The older boy obliges to Harry's will, only wanting to see him squirm a bit more.
“Thank you.” Harry moans into Zayn's ear. Breath hot and heavy, Zayn's so close he can taste it.
“Thank you so much Zayn. Thank you for your cock...”
“Harry..”
“So grateful, love you so much. Love the way you fuck me.” He's rambling now, and it's taking all of Zayn's willpower not to fuck back into him, to let Harry do it himself. His hand is a blur of Harry's slick cock, precome and lube creating a sheen across it.
“Wanna fuck you all the time Zayn, all the time.” Zayn's ears go out before Harry can get out his last three words, ecstasy racking his body in waves. His hand stills and squeezes on Harry's dick, as his back arches off the bed, taking Harry with him as he sits up, his hands and feet planted firmly against the bed. He's oh so sensitive, but it's Harry's turn now, he's earned it.
He picks his hands up from the mattress to grab the very tops of the back of Harry's thighs and uses his hips to buck back up. Harry's not even moaning anymore, just whimpering, trying to get out words that don't even make sense.
He fucks into him one, two three times before Harry's coming with a loud whine and a long white spurt that lands on his own chest as well as Zayn's.
They don't move for a few seconds, just let the aftershocks of their orgasm jerk their bodies in random spots. Harry rolls off of Zayn to the empty to spot on the bed to the left of him. Zayn lays down beside him.
Harry finds Zayn's hand through the light without having to look down.
“Zayn?”
“Yeah babe?”
“Can we do that again?”
“Sure.”
“...Like now?”
Zayn chuckles and says, “Give me a few minutes.”
Harry rolls on his side to tuck his face in the crook of Zayn's neck. “Getting old on me,eh?”
“Fuck you, Styles.”
“Well that's the idea inn't it?”
And they wouldn't have it any other way.
Fin.