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Zarry - Kryptonite

Zayn wakes up to Harry rutting against his hip, his breath hot against his ear. He reaches up and rubs his eyes before blinking them open, the room dark except for the green glow of the clock on the nightstand reading half past 2 in the morning.

“Harry, babe, are you awake?” He asks, his voice hoarse from sleep. He figures Harry’s having one of his dreams again; he’s been having them a lot more lately for some reason.

“Need you,” Harry breathes out, almost whining. His cock is hard against Zayn’s hip, and when Harry reaches to touch Zayn, he finds he’s half hard himself.

“What were you dreaming about?” Zayn asks, and he sits up to hover over Harry, pinning his wrists above his head. Harry gasps, his hips stirring as Zayn settles between his legs. He bends down to kiss along Harry’s jaw, nipping at his chin.

“You… you had the vibrator in my arse, and…” Harry swallows as he remembers how real it felt, and Zayn sucks at his Adam’s apple. “And you wouldn’t let me come, and I kept begging you but…” Harry moans when Zayn rolls his hips down, their erections brushing against each other.

“But what?” Zayn presses, releasing one of Harry’s wrists before spreading Harry’s legs apart and reaching for Harry’s cock. Harry moans and arches into the touch, his free hand moving to Zayn’s hair to grip onto something.

“You just wouldn’t let me,” Harry sputters as Zayn bites the junction between Harry’s neck and shoulder. “And I started crying, and then I woke up,” he finishes. Zayn thumbs the tip of Harry’s cock, smearing precome before he starts pumping. Harry moans again, and just as soon as he does, Zayn pulls his hand away.

Harry’s eyes snap open, and he immediately starts pouting. “Daddy, no,” he begs, rocking his hips up in an attempt to get Zayn’s hand back on his painful erection. Zayn was reaching for the drawer, but Harry knows better at this point, knows not to move when Zayn pulls away. He opens his hands and smacks the side of Harry arse, not too hard but enough for Harry to squeak and retract his hips.

“Daddy,” Harry whines, squirming beneath Zayn as he reaches for the drawer again, this time pulling out the lube and the vibrator he’s sure Harry was dreaming about.

“You know better,” is all Zayn says, and while Harry keeps whining, Zayn grabs the handcuffs while he’s at it. It’s enough to make Harry shut up and bite his bottom lip. Zayn knows Harry’s excited now, his eyes lighting up as he snaps the handcuffs around his wrists to the metal bars of the headboard. He hasn’t used them in awhile simply for the fact that spanking Harry when he touches something he’s not supposed is more of a turn on. But tonight he wants to see Harry struggle.

“Daddy,” Harry tries again, this time lighter and more questioning than begging.

“Yes, my love?” Zayn answers, popping open the lube and smearing it over his fingers and the anal plug vibrator. He sets it aside for now, tossing the lube somewhere on the bed behind him. Harry squirms in anticipation, the chain to the handcuffs rattling against the metal headboard.

“Please don’t make me hold it,” Harry says quietly, pleading. It’s obvious he needs release, but Zayn will use that to his advantage. He grins mischievously, his fingers probing at Harry’s hole. Harry twitches and bites his lip, the metal around his wrists already starting to dig into his skin.

“Be a good boy for Daddy, and we’ll see. Aren’t you Daddy’s good boy?” Zayn asks, pressing a finger inside and crooking it. Harry gasps and nods, the ring of muscles clenching involuntarily around Zayn’s finger.

“Yes,” Harry breathes out, and Zayn adds another finger almost too soon, pressing them in deeper and brushing against Harry’s prostate. Harry moans and tries to reach for something, but forgets he’s handcuffed. He grabs the metal bars instead, bracing himself for the next finger. Zayn keeps brushing against his spot ever so lightly, and Harry’s cock is leaking. He whines and bucks up, feeling his cock slap against his belly.