Drawn Out Dreams. [A Zarry Fanfiction.]

Chapter Naughty Forty

Harry Styles nuzzled his face into the back of Zayn’s neck. The soft olive skin was heaven to the touch, and his green eyes just drank him in over and over again as the sunlight flooded into the caravan windows and hit the two boys as they were cuddled on the sofa bed in the living room. He had that perfect smell of innocence even after everything that had happened over the last night, and the curly haired lad just couldn’t seem to get enough of it. That pure defying innocence brought Harry crawling back and back to Zayn; he would be a ragdoll to the brown-eyed boy. Not that the brown eyed boy would ever treat Harry like that anyway, even though a mischievous voice in Harry’s head begged for him too.

Harry let his hands slip around the boy’s skinny waist even more, his fingertips trailing over the soft skin of the boy in front of him. His chest was pressed into the boy’s back, lips lazily kissing the back of Zayn’s neck as his large hands held the boy to him. His movements were lazy, but the protective motive of them travelled to Zayn’s mind, where he cuddled up in Harry’s arms, biting his lip and shivering each time Harry’s lips pressed another long, soft kiss onto the nape of his neck. His eyelids stayed closed as he dozed like a lazy puppy, but the constant kisses and nudges from Harry’s foot to his own kept the boy from falling to sleep anymore.

Zayn linked his fingers inbetween Harry’s as he felt the boy’s hand sneaking around his waist once again. Zayn Malik’s mind couldn’t help but think of all the places where they had been the previous night. Harry’s hands had gracefully brushed over parts of the boy’s skin that Zayn never thought would be so affected by a simple touch. His cheeks started to blush a deep pink colour, his bottom lip still caught in his teeth as he remembered the countless kisses that Harry had pressed all down his chest and torso before reaching Zayn’s most sensitive of places.

Zayn had been counting each kiss, he had managed to count four kisses to his hip, three around his bellybutton; there had been five as the curly haired boy had went along the line of his boxer waistband, slowly, before Zayn’s mind had lost track. There was too much else going on, so much all at once, the brown-eyed boy hadn’t known how to control his trembling body. Harry’s long fingers had slipped around the waistband of Zayn’s boxers and slowly pulled them down. Zayn had shivered and wriggled, clinging to the pillow that was tight to his chest. His brown eyes could only peer over the pillow and his folded arms as they saw Harry pull the boxers down past his nose, before the two green eyes connected with his.

Zayn’s body had never felt so uncoordinated before. Everything was tingling, he felt like he could hear bells ringing relentlessly. The bells were broken when Harry’s husky voice had spoken to him, asking the boy questions, pressing muffled and endless quotations of the boy’s love for the other into the skin of the boy he was kissing. Zayn’s chest rose repeatedly as he breathed. All he wanted to do was bite down onto his lip to keep the sounds that were dying to come out from leaving his lips, but it was so hard to control. If his brown eyes weren’t tightly squeezed shut, they were open and taking in every detail about Harry.

Zayn’s toes had curled, a slight squeak leaving his mouth as Harry had trailed slow, wet kisses up the inside of Zayn’s bare leg. Harry’s hands had guided themselves along the other side of the brown-eyed boy’s legs. His fingers had brushed over the boy’s knees and Zayn hadn’t been able to contain the giggle from such a giggly spot. Harry had already brushed over it once more to hear that pure giggle again, his teeth grazing against the smooth skin of the inside of Zayn’s leg as he had smirked into the kiss, giving the boy another reason to shiver.

There was a short moment when the only sound that had been heard in the room was the sound of Zayn’s long breaths as he felt Harry slowly wrap his hand around his most sensitive area. The duvet sheets underneath them seemed to cradle Zayn, as if it had known that this boy was more beautiful and vulnerable compared to any other boy. The brown eyes that had been clenched shut opened so they could peer down and look at his curly haired boyfriend. Zayn pulled the cushion away, wanting a clearer view of Harry as he slowly stroked the upside of Zayn’s length. The ecstatic feeling of the tingles hit Zayn once again, and he had whimpered as his hands desperately tried to find something to cling too.