Ziam One Shots II

Mon soleil et mes étoiles

Liam was roused from his sleep by the soft and distant sound of piano music flowing through the room. He groaned softly and rolled over, his hand blindly reaching out for Zayn with the intent of ignoring it, only to be pushed further from his slumber when his hand hit the cool sheets beside him. He sat up with a sigh and rubbed at his eyes, sleep clinging onto his senses as he blinked around the room. Liam glanced down at himself and blushed a little, his heart speeding up. He was wearing just one Zayn's dress shirt, the one Zayn had been wearing before they'd had sleepy-sex when Zayn had returned home from work.

Liam vaguely recalled telling Zayn he should take his stress out on him, and Zayn had proceeded to do what seemed like the opposite. Soft rocks of the hips and gentle murmurs in his ear--he'd long since stopped questioning Zayn's tactics of relaxation, though. When he wanted to relax, he wanted Zayn to rail him until he couldn't think properly. But, Zayn was remarkably gentle in most ways, and that included his domination. Zayn was in complete control of him always, but he handled him so softly when they weren't actively doing a scene. 

His domination was completely different from the domination he'd been expecting, but honestly... he loved it. He loved the way Zayn put him first and praised him, the way his grip was always just tight enough that he knew the meaning behind it. He loved the warmth, the way Zayn was always so caring and thoughtful of him. 

He often came bucket-loads of times more than Zayn, just because the man dedicated time to slowly but surely worked him into a frenzy of overstimulated euphoric ramblings. By the end of it, he was usually full of cum, deliciously full with a toy stuffed inside of him.

Shifting around on the bed brought his attention to the plug inside of him and whimpered. That managed to fully wake him up, so he pushed himself up out of bed and walked over towards the door, quietly pulling it open and tiptoeing out into the hallway. His eyes roamed around the hallway and he followed the beautiful melody down it towards the living room where the grand piano was. Sometimes Zayn would play late at night when he managed to squeeze in some free time to play. Every step he took made his body heat up unmanageably, but he pushed it aside with some difficulty.

He walked carefully and quietly over to the sectional and sat down to the left of Zayn, curling up a little and playing with the button on Zayn's shirts wrist cuff, biting into his lip. The song filled the room with ease, and it sounded like what Liam thought sunshine should sound like. Warm, happy, inviting, beautifully deep and tranquil with just the slightest undertone of excitement echoing beneath it. Zayn didn't seem to notice his presence at all, his head tipped down and his fingers dancing along the keyboard. 

He looked so handsome, his black hair falling down into his eyes, silver framed glasses positioned on his nose despite his eyes being closed. His face was relaxed and calm, a slight luminescent glow around him from the dimmed lights farther up on the ceiling, giving him an almost godly look to him. His chest was bare, and Liam couldn't wholly fight back the blush that trailed across his cheeks as he took in the hickies he'd left behind on him.

Zayn often covered him with hickies, and fuck he loved it--but it was still a little embarrassing to see Zayn covered in his marks. He pushed that aside, however, because he couldn't pass up an opportunity to see Zayn unfiltered. He was the only one allowed to see Zayn, to know the complex and intriguing maze of his mind, and to witness him wandering through the maze to create something beautiful.

Zayn was skilled in all manners of art-- music, singing, sketching, painting, sculpting, composing, photography--the list was endless. Liam often wondered just how much knowledge Zayn had stored away in his mind, and he couldn't help but feel Zayn was very much out of his league. He had no idea how he got so lucky as to have the man want him. He couldn't even decide what he wanted to eat for dinner and Zayn could manage a business as large as 5th Dimension on his own at only thirty-one years old. He had to have been a prodigy, his skill level was far too great considering the number of years he should've had to perfect it.