╠ Shared! ╣

Ziam - I'm Yours Tonight

Liam knocks on the door with confidence, like he doesn’t know the person who lives in this dorm in particular is a drop dead gorgeous, practically perfect looking male, who has an affinity to answer his door shirtless. Liam has been to this particular dorm room practically twice a week this semester, and without fail, Liam is always caught off guard by his unconventional beauty.

            The door opens before Liam can conduct a second succession of raps, revealing the boy himself.

            “Hey,” he smiles, eyes shining.

            He, unfortunately, has his shirt on, covering the four tattoos Liam knows he has on his chest. But he can still see the two the boy has on his arms. Liam thinks they’re stupid and juvenile; he’ll regret them when the cloud of weed smoke clears from his brain on graduation day and he is forced to face he’s an adult. Liam also thinks they’re kind of fitting to the boy’s style, a mix between a gangster and  jock. And he kind of wants to touch them, just to see what they feel like. Taste like.

            Liam refocuses when he catches only half of the boy’s sentence, too caught up in the sound of his voice, the low rumble to it. Liam couldn’t place his accent.

            “Sorry?” Liam tries. He could blame the boy’s enunciation, but it really only fascinates Liam, with its erotically familiar inflection.

“I said, I only have a 50. Can you cash that?” the boy smirks, in a cocky way. It makes Liam burn with embarrassment.

            “No. Sorry. Just cashed out. This is my last stop. I’ve only got a few notes,” Liam attempts to keep his voice level, but the boy is still smirking, and Liam is only human.

“I think I have some smaller bills in my room. Why don’t you put that on the table. Looks hot,” the boy says, sending him a cheeky wink. Before Liam can refute on all principles of proper protocol, the boy disappears into the dim lighting of the room, with musical beats which send Liam into almost a trance.

And because the pizza is hot in Liam’s hands, and Liam’s legs are tired from standing, he relents and follows in after the boy.

Inside, he is leaning against the adjacent wall, leading to what Liam can assume is the bathroom. His room is set up kind of like Liam’s, except this place looks more lived in than his basic abode. The boy smiles as Liam places the pizza on the dresser, before using the foot that is propped against the wall to propel him across the room, bringing him closer to Liam.

“Wondered what was keeping you,” the boy sing songs. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” And before Liam can do anything, he has lips pressed against his, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been kissed by someone whose name he didn’t know. But Liam reciprocates, justifying  it’s not every day an impossibly glamorous boy is pressed against him, especially not one who tastes like cigarettes and spearmint, which Liam never knew could be so delicious.

The boy kisses lazily, just how he talks. It’s smooth tongue strokes and seamless movement of lips on lips. He utilizes his teeth in a pattern where the bite is acceptable, even pleasurable. The boy is not out to draw blood or harm Liam. It makes Liam’s lips tingle and he moans in encouragement. Liam moves his arms to the boy’s collar bone, right over where he knows a tattoo lies. Their bodies are pressed flush against one another’s, crotch to crotch, which are rubbing in these offbeat circles the boy is trying to set. Liam’s hands move to the guy’s hair, while the boy’s one tucks into Liam’s back pocket, pressing slightly in when Liam’s hips come forward in the circle, and the other curls around his back, simply holding. When the boy licks behind Liam’s teeth, he keens.