“Zaynnnnnn,” Liam calls as he finally sets foot in their flat. He huffs when he doesn’t immediately find his boyfriend.
He wanders around a bit, every so often repeating his name in a hush. Hearing movement in their bedroom, Liam turns the knob carefully, curious as to whether he’ll find a sleepy Zayn or maybe just a dog or two.
But what he does see next, he doesn’t expect: Zayn quickly throwing something underneath his pillow, looking as guilty as a child stealing from the candy shop.
And, well, in a way, he kind of did. There’s a flash of plastic, the crunch of the material as it folds underneath Zayn’s head. “Are those…” Liam quirks his eyebrow. “My gummy bears?”
Zayn looks around, obviously trying to think of an excuse. Coming up empty, he sighs. “I only ate the red ones.”
Liam blinks twice at this, though he’s not even a bit surprised at this admission. Still, he’s not quite ready to give up yet.
“You… ate the red ones,” he says slowly. “My favorite kind.” He pouts.
Zayn pauses a moment, taking in Liam’s reaction. When he decides it’s safe to joke–sees the slight quirk up of Liam’s lips, the movement that only someone who knows him as well as Zayn does would notice–he lets the smirk fully form on his face.
“I saved you the yellow ones.” Zayn says easily, flicking his wrist as if to wipe away the problem.
“I don’t like you,” Liam mumbles, squinting his eyes and dramatically crossing his arms (though he still struggles to keep his impending smile from breaking).
Before Liam knows it, Zayn’s breaking into song, and it’s, well, something he’s heard a few times by now. “But your clothes say different on my bedroom floor,” he gets out in a high falsetto. He looks pointedly to Liam’s clothes underneath the boy’s feet.
For the principle of the matter, Liam forces himself to ignore the clothes he’s standing on, huffing out an incredulous laugh instead. “Did you just use my own song against me?”
Zayn stands up slowly, letting the bed creak in all its glory before he leans in, a flash of raised eyebrows—”Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”
A cacophony of witty (and some not-so-witty) responses jumble in Liam’s head then, but before he can really pick the best option, he’s going with the one that’s on the tip of his tongue. He’s countering Zayn’s movement, leaning in as he belts out, “I think I know he don’t love meeeeeeeee.”
Zayn giggles, bringing his lips forward to ghost over Liam’s. “That’s why I fuck him right?”
Liam hums, all too aware of Zayn’s hot breath against him, of their bodies flush against each other. “Yeah, well, I guess that part is actually true,” he admits.
“And possible, maybe?” Zayn asks a little too enthusiastically.
“Only if you don’t sing Bedroom Floor to me while I’m stripping.”
Zayn thinks about that for a moment. “No promises, babe,” he grins.
“Fine,” Liam laughs with a roll of his eyes as he finally crosses the distance to press his lips over Zayn’s. “But then,” Liam whispers against Zayn’s mouth, “I can’t promise what kinds of songs might just pop out of my mouth–maybe a little old ditty called Pillowtalk?”
Zayn whacks him on the arm, chuckling as he wraps his arms around Liam’s neck. “Shut it,” he beams as he pulls him down just slightly to deepen the kiss. Sounding a bit worried, he suddenly breaks the kiss to add, “Oh, and I’ll buy you some more gummy bears, if you want.”
“I really don’t care, babe,” Liam grins. “Promise,” he breathes, moving his hands to Zayn’s hips, sliding under his shirt to rub his thumbs against the small of Zayn’s back. “I’ll buy you a whole ton of them just you can eat the red ones.”