Zayn doesnt even have time to think when he feels Liam’s large hands on his shoulders. There’s a whoosh of air and suddenly the lovely view of Louis is gone. His face is pressed to the wall and he can feel Liam rutting against him, and he’s hard and hot and Zayn can’t help spread his leg, automatically, like it’s normal, like they aren’t being watched.
“Lou, better than his?” Liam grits out, hands going under Zayn’s flannel shirt, rocking up to Zayn’s back side.
Zayn presses his eyes closed, tilts his head back a bit and shakes his head, “Never, ah…never.”
