Drawn Out Dreams. [A Zarry Fanfiction.]

Chapter Naughty Forty

“Harry.” Zayn had squeaked, swallowing hard as he did so, and causing his normally velvety voice to become more rocky and desperate. The lack of air hadn’t helped the boy out much either. Harry slowly stroked the underside of Zayn’s length one last time before his eyes looked deep into Zayn’s.

“Hand?” Zayn whimpered, before his two hands made grabby hands like a child for his boyfriend. Harry smiled and offered Zayn his free hand, which was gladly taken and brought close to Zayn’s torso as the boy clung to his boyfriend’s large hand.

With his free hand, Harry had held down the boy’s hip, before he had started the one thing he had craved for so long. Harry Styles was dying to see his boyfriend fall into that certain feeling, his back arched, his nails clawing, he wanted every part of Zayn, but he had to go slow. For both of their sake. Harry had never done anything like this before, and he knew that he was about to give his boyfriend the worst blowjob of his life, but he had to get over this step. They had both needed to get over that first unsteady hurdle.

Unknowingly to Harry, as he dragged his tongue along the upside of his boyfriend’s length slowly, feeling like an absolute beginner, Zayn was already seeing stars. The boy had never thought one could be touched in such a secretive place, but as he clawed into the back of Harry’s hand as the curly haired teenager took him into his mouth, Zayn swore that he would never let anybody but his Harry touch him in such a place here again. Zayn’s back had started to become prone to arching, yet the feeling of Harry’s hand which had been holding his hip down was another reason why the boy had let such cries of blissful torment escape his lips.

In what Harry thought was the most cringe-worthy thing he’d ever done in his life, the way the boy below him seemed to wriggle and squeak in appreciation gave the boy some confidence. Harry came to the conclusion that he could have sat and had a conversation about rocket science with Zayn and he would still find a magical element to it, and let his guard down a little. Zayn had kept letting out husky mentions of his name, how Zayn had managed to find out Harry’s middle name was a mystery to the curly haired boy, which didn’t exactly put Harry off either. The curly haired boy just kept winding his thumb around in soothing circles of the olive skinned hip, as he hollowed his cheeks to try and bring his innocent boyfriend to his first orgasm.

Zayn Malik had lasted just over ten minutes before he’d lost himself completely. He was clinging to Harry’s hand as he buried his face into the nearest cushion, wanting some sort of comfort from the dominating new feeling that was shaking through his body like a steam train. Harry had slowly lapped up everything Zayn had given him that night, trying not to grimace at the new taste that he too was experiencing. Zayn had grown quiet, and his eyes were closed as he cuddled into the cushion, his hand still tightly clutched to Harry’s.

Harry sat up and brushed the hair from his face with his free hand, the hand being held hostage by Zayn’s slowly brushing over the other boy’s knuckles, before he looked over Zayn with an adoring smile. In any other situation, Harry would always claim how he deserved something in return for what he had done, but as he looked over his boyfriend, for the first time in his teenage life he felt that the other’s needs were more important than his. He’d go a lifetime without release if it meant Zayn was experiencing each and every pleasure he deserved. So he had lain down beside the boy, and had placed a kiss onto his cheek. This had brought those brown eyes to open and look into Harry’s, a smile forming on Zayn’s face.

“You were amazing, fluffball.” Harry had whispered, as he tried to tug the duvet from under them so he could fix it on top of them. His lips had been by the boy’s ear, the hot flutters of his breath causing the brown-eyed boy to give one last whimper of feeling, before he once again became his normal self. Harry had chuckled at this, and kissed the small patch of skin underneath the boy’s earlobe, which had made Zayn smile and giggle tiredly. They both had listened to the sound of silence in the caravan, with Zayn cuddled into the crook of Harry’s neck, and Harry had watched the younger boy fall asleep in his arms that night.