Bring Color to My Skies (Ziam)

Part 3

A/N: Part 2 was locked by Wattpad, so if you want to read it and can't please let me know. I don't recommend reading this part without reading it first.

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My happy little pill
Take me away
Dry my eyes
Bring colour to my skies  

Thunder struck, loud and booming, startling Zayn as he ducked under the awning of Liam's hotel the following evening. He lit his cigarette, letting the smoke billow around him as the storm raged on. His stomach was in knots. He could already feel the effects of the spliff he'd smoked at his flat wearing off, the pounding rain and his anxiety washing away any semblance of a good mood.

He'd stayed in bed all day, watching with disinterest as the morning sun seeping in through his bedroom window turned dark and dreary as the rain began to fall and his stomach began to sink. He could feel himself growing more and more worked up as the hours crept by, counting down to a deadline he'd imposed on himself. Because he didn't care what it took, tonight he was going to make Liam want him.

He wanted to hear bed springs creaking underneath him, and to be pinned down by rough hands. He wanted to be split open, and to see angry red scratches marring his back. He could still feel where Liam had touched him, his skin burning as he remembered the press of his hand on his thigh. He'd searched in vain for finger-shaped bruises as soon as he'd gotten home, disappointment coursing through him when he failed to find physical proof that Liam had wanted him. 

If you make me want you badly enough, I'll give it to you, so good that you won't be able to get enough.

The problem was, Zayn had no idea how to make that happen. None of his usual tricks were working, and honestly he'd never had to try this hard before. Normally it was enough to smile coyly and murmur a few pretty little lies while his dates lapped up everything he offered them.

But Liam...Liam was different. Zayn was used to fumbling hands and endless praise, to men on their knees for him, but Liam was the pinnacle of control. Of need contained.

A chill ran through him as he thought about the night before, and the look in Liam's eyes as he'd fucked him with the toy. He'd been so sure that Liam had wanted him in that moment, and now that he'd been proven wrong he felt more off balance than ever.

He glanced down at his watch. It was a quarter past eight, and he decided that he'd made Liam wait long enough. He dropped his fag to the ground and turned towards the doorman, nodding as he opened the door for him. He took his time making his way to Liam's room, reminding himself again and again that he was worth the wait, and that it was time that Liam realized that. Just like the night before, he found the door to Liam's room propped open, and this time Zayn didn't bother knocking, pushing the door open and walking into the room without an invitation. 

The room was dimly lit, a lamp on a nightstand by the bed providing the only illumination, and his eyes landed on Liam immediately. He was facing the window, his back to Zayn, an imposing figure back lit by the bright London lights, made hazy by the rain.

"You're late," he said without turning around. 

Zayn took a step into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. "You're lucky I'm here at all," he said casually, smiling inwardly at how cocky he sounded. 

Liam turned around slowly, and Zayn felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. He was wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, the stark black somehow making his brown eyes look brighter. Brown eyes that narrowed as he started towards him, looking him up and down with disdain. Zayn looked down too, suddenly realizing how much of a mess he looked in comparison to Liam's polished exterior, his wet shirt clinging to his chest as his boots dripped onto the plush carpet beneath his feet. He pushed his damp hair off of his forehead with a shaking hand that he quickly shoved into his pocket, standing up a little straighter as Liam closed the distance between them.