Killing You (Ziall)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Niall's head was practically spinning in circles, his thoughts whirling around like a tornado. Just when he thought he was getting somewhere with Zayn, the boy had reverted back to his usual cold self. It was like he was two separate people. The first Zayn was the cold-hearted killer who thirsted for nothing more than blood trickling through the spaces through his fingers. This was the Zayn that showed itself more often; it was the more dominant side of him. The second Zayn, though, he was a good guy with a loving heart that had been badly battered during his "work" in the past few years of his life. Niall didn't know the full story of how he became a killer, but he assumed it wasn't by choice. The softer side of Zayn was the true Zayn, as far as Niall was concerned. Now he just had to figure out how to coax that side out of him and bury "assassin Zayn" deep within the confines of his body, someplace from where it could never be unearthed.

As much as his head screamed at him to stop, Niall's heart said full-speed ahead. He was falling hard for a killer.

He could only hope his killer would fall for him too.

*****

Despite the extreme discomfort he found himself in and the immense number of thoughts swimming around in his head, Niall soon found himself nodding off to sleep. He willed himself to stay awake incase Zayn came back, but his body had different ideas, and soon enough, his head was slumped against his chest and he was sound asleep in his propped-up position.

One face occupied his dreams. The boy had eyes the color of honey, hair the color of the night sky. His skin was tan and muscular and his face was always lit with a brilliant smile. It looked like Zayn, but surely it couldn't be him. He had no hint of malice in his eyes, and his fingertips did nothing but caress Niall's pale skin lovingly.

It was the boy Niall knew was hidden somewhere within the killer's body.

It was the boy Niall was determined to bring from dreams to reality.

*****

Meanwhile, Zayn was doing anything but sleeping. Before he could do anything, he had to take care of the painful "problem" Niall had caused the older boy to acquire.

Zayn lay in his comfy bed, his fresh clothes already discarded in a messy heap on the floor. The room was nearly pitch black, thin tendrils of moonlight snaking through the blinds the only source of illumination.

His clammy hands trailed crooked lines up and down his bare torso absentmindedly. He imagined his fingers were Niall's, caressing him with gentle touches, maybe even pressing a quick peck to his toned abs every once in awhile.

His hands running over his naked body did nothing to calm Zayn's problem. His rock-hard manhood was twitching with the intense need to be touched. The killer's hands slid slowly down to the aching part of his body and he ran his fingers from tip to base almost teasingly before he took it fully in hand and began squeezing and pulling more forcefully.

Zayn soon found his thoughts involuntarily turning back to a certain blonde lad who had only minutes before occupied the very bed in which Zayn was jerking off. The tan boy couldn't stop himself from envisioning the way Niall's pink lips stretched around his length, making him feel a kind of pleasure he hadn't experienced before. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure, images of Niall's golden locks bobbing up and down in between Zayn's legs flickering behind his eyelids.

A throaty moan left Zayn's lips and he sped up his actions, feeling himself coming undone quickly. The effect Niall had on him even when he wasn't in Zayn's presence was unbelievable. He wouldn't admit it, but the boy had a spell on him.