"Can I have your number?"
"I literally just gave you your first drink for tonight."
"It's not like I asked for your home address!"
"Anything else you would like to order?"
"How about that number? Because I find you very- I mean very..."
"...
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67. Kisses and Guns.
"I will cut off your hands," Zayn warned as he felt warm arms encircling his waist, hands intertwining against his stomach. Zayn signed when he felt Justin's lips pouting against his neck. he could melt in Justin's hold if he didn't know better to pamper that tactile sense of Justin's.
Justin is a very tactile person, Zayn had observed and noted. It wasn't the conclusion he had come up with after Justin had always tried to practically smother him in his sleep by draping himself over Zayn or all the times Justin just was unconsciously moving his hands on Zayn. The kisses and small grouping touches didn't count, they were intimate and always led to heavy makeout session or sex- there was no in-between. Zayn had come to decide when he saw Justin with his brother and sister; giving them hugs and kisses on the forehead, ruffling their hair affectionately, or when he let them hope on him when watching tv, rubbing their arms without any knowledge of it. And Zayn could only imagine all the belly rub he would demand from his mother. Maybe Justin was secretly a golden retriever puppy, it would explain the cute droopy eyes and ability to look innocent in any situation.
"You were gone for too long," Justin whined, his voice childish and teeth scrapping on Zayn's skin.
Zayn shuddered at the sensation but stopped himself from jamming his elbow in Justin's gut. He was still butt-sore from all the fucking but Justin's warm nacked chest hugging his back was quite satisfactory in its own way. Even if Zayn was wearing a t-shirt he could still feel the heat radiating off of Justin's body like lava.
Plus if Justin wanted to have sex he wouldn't have to lurk all over Zayn for that, again it was definitely the tactile thing. Justin could just kiss him, push him against any given surface, make puppy dog eyes, wander his hands all over Zayn's body (with nails scratching the skin, so Zayn knows when Justin wants to have sex or just uncooperative cuddles), leave hickeys in all the sensitive places, or just kiss him so deep that there is no mistaking the gesture.
"Don't mope. Let me go." Zayn half-heartedly slapped Justin's hands over his stomach.
"Nooo..." Justin drawled his tongue pocking out and testing Zayn's shoulder, nudging the t-shirt neck away with his nose.
"Gross." Zayn wrinkled his nose in disgust but didn't push away the welcome tongue off of his hickey bruised shoulder.
"You love my gross."
"I tolerate you."
"I don't believe you." Justin kissed the purple hickey with such tenderness that Zayn could just picture all the previous time Justin had sucked on the same spot over and over. "I like this mole here." Justin bit with his teeth- to show Zayn which one he was talking about, -the tender spot of Zayn's mole. "Are you hiding other moles?"
This was another thing about Justin, he was cute and romantic by heart. He always said such stupid, gooey, sappy things that Zayn wanted to hit him upside down for making him blush or even uttering those mind-boggling sentences out of those pretty lips.
