All my faults, all your stars
Who I am, who you are
I wanna be, oh, naked with you,
Naked with you.
- "Naked" || X Ambassadors
_____
Sooooo i've kinda got an essay with your name on it :)
lol
Sorry love but as much fun as that sounds
i've got pieces to finish
Ohhh can I come? Can I come see them?
NOpe :) x
Anais groans to herself beneath the blankets on her couch. She's got plenty of homework to do, and because it's Sunday already, and she can't believe it's Sunday already, she's just short of procrastinating, especially considering the fact that she's only sketched a few designs in her sketchbook and purposefully neglected the essay, report and problem sets she still has to do for the upcoming week.
Not to mention, she'd promised to assist Louis in the planning of Soo's birthday party, and Louis had been extra sassy and extra bossy in his attempt to plan the best birthday party he could.
It was all a bit overwhelming.
Especially when all Anais wanted to do was cuddle in some blankets...with Zayn.
Screw the essay.
Worst boyfriend EVER, she responds, because she's been asking Zayn since he'd gotten his sketchbook back from Perrie - which was nearly two months ago, mind you - to see some of his most recent pieces and he still hasn't shown her, which was frustrating her tremendously considering he was supposed to have multiple pieces in the gallery the Arts Department was opening this upcoming weekend.
LOL i'll come by when i'm done ok?
You;d better
I will :)
Is Soo there?
Nope.
She's spending the night w her boy toy
Perfect
Ive got you all to myself :) x
__
"Really?" Anais pouts. "No food?"
Zayn laughs. "It's nearly ten, love. Thought you'd eaten by now."
"Yeah, leftovers," she sighs, stepping out of the doorway. She rubs her chilled arms as her boyfriend enters her apartment. "Which sucked, just so you know."
He plants a kiss on her lips, pushing her gently against the closed door. His lips are freezing but his breath is warm.
"Sorry," he breathes, leaving a smirk against her lips. "Although I must say, I feel like I should be a little offended."
Anais drapes her arms around his neck. "And why's that?"
"Are you only happy to see me if I've brought you food?"
"What gives you that idea?" Anais laughs, ducking under his arm and jogging through the living room before Zayn can reattach his lips to hers.
"Very funny," he mutters, following behind her.
Her laughter rings from the kitchen.
"Thirsty?" She calls. "I'm making hot chocolate."
"I'd love some, thanks," he grins, slipping out of his coat and scarf and the rest of his multiple outer layers. Anais' apartment was always warm. He shirks the heavy material, draping everything over the back of the overstuffed chair in the living room.
"Hey, Zayn?"
"Yeah?" He calls back, noting her open laptop and papers and books spread out on the couch. He grins to himself; she's been writing her essay.
This makes him laugh.
"What took you so long tonight? I almost thought you weren't coming over."
"Yeah, I..." He pauses, running a hand against his sore neck. "I nearly had to finish all of my pieces today."
And that took a lot longer than he expected.
He'd definitely expected to have come over sooner. He'd expected to find Anais asleep, or something, because it was Sunday night.
He's just happy that she's apparently very awake.
Anais' head pops from the kitchen. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he grins, liking how her hair bounces against her shoulders when it's down. He'd like to touch it. He'd like to run his fingers through it.
She wrinkles her nose. "But, you're done, now? Zayn?"
"Huh?"
She laughs. "I asked if you'd finished? Y'know, I mean your pieces. For the gallery opening?"
"Oh," he shakes his head. "I'm close enough," he replies. And then he cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"
Anais shrugs. "Just asking," she replies, before disappearing back into her kitchen.
And Zayn smirks to himself, trailing behind her. Anais has been asking to see his work practically since the day he met her, and he was so close to showing her. He was literally so close. All she had to do was wait a few more days. Anais had to be patient for a few more days, and even he had doubts about whether or not she could do it.
Zayn enters the kitchen, meeting the smell of chocolate and the feel of steam from Anais' pot on the stove.
He snakes his hands around her waist; she jumps.
"Holy shit," Anais exclaims, shaking her head against him. "I didn't even hear you come in here."
Zayn only laughs, placing a kiss on her neck. She's tied her hair back up, her bun bobbing on the top of her head.
He wants to take it down.
Instead, he watches as she sprinkles cinnamon into the chocolatey liquid bubbling on the stove.
"What are you-?"
"It's hot chocolate, Zayn," she giggles, her body vibrating against him. She turns her head, "It's how my mom used to make it," and she plants a quick kiss on his unshaven cheek. "Don't worry. It'll be good."
Zayn pulls her flush against his body. "Smells good," he murmurs.
Anais chokes on another laugh, because Zayn has begun to leave featherlight kisses down her neck. "G-good," she stutters. "It...It should."
His hands tighten on her waist. "It does."
"Okay," Anais laughs breathily. She wriggles from his grasp. "I kinda need you to stop now."
"Why?" Zayn whines, reaching for her again.
Anais laughs, jerking away. "Because this is hot, Zayn."
"Not as hot as-"
"I swear," Anais interrupts, jerking from his grasp again. "I swear I will break up with you right now if you say something horrible like, 'Not as hot as you,' or something equally awful."
"Not as hot as me, Anais," he smirks, again pulling her against him as she laughs. "See," he kisses her neck. "You were wrong."
"That's worse."
"Seriously, lying is not a good look on you," he replies, and Anais snorts. "I like, would really prefer you to be honest, love."
"I cannot handle you right now."
"Again with the lies?"
Anais' eyes narrow, and she shoots him a glare that makes him smile. He rests his head in the crook of her neck, because Anais is unable to shake him off (and honestly, she's given up trying), and watches as she pours the bubbling chocolate into two mugs.
It smells really, really good.
Zayn stands, reaching for a mug.
"Careful," she warns. "It's hot."
He raises a brow. "Is it, now?"
She slaps him with a dish towel.
He pulls a face, leaning against the counter as he takes tentative sips.
Anais is staring at him. "You like it?"
"I think I'm in love," Zayn replies, because despite it just being hot chocolate, it tastes delicious. It tastes different. He drags his tongue along his lip. "Sorry, Ana. I think you've been replaced."
"I'll choose to ignore the second half of that comment because I'm actually glad you like it," she replies, picking up her mug and cupping it in her hands.
And a lazy grin settles upon her face. "My mom used to make it for me and Cat," she grins. "I don't know if I make it like she does, but," she shrugs, "I remember the days I'd come home and the house smelled like this," she smiles to herself at the memory, and Zayn loves the curvature of her lips and the grin playing upon them. "It's funny how when you're a kid, the smallest things mean the most to you, y'know?"
And the corner of Zayn's mouth is lifted in an endearing smile because Anais with her leggings and oversized NYU crewneck and her curly hair (that he'd much rather see down), pulled into a bun atop her head being open and reminiscent and honest plays funny melodies upon his heart strings. And the words, 'I do know,' are at the tip of his tongue, except his tongue is frozen in his mouth because he's still held captive in that irresistible essence of hers.
He reminds himself that she's his, his, his.
And he does not have to share.
All of a sudden, the hot chocolate between his hands tastes so much better, but not as good as he knows she does.
He clears his throat. "Ana, um-"
Except, she doesn't quite hear the beginning of his statement, because she's begun to wash out her pot and clear away her spices.
She turns to him. "Will you spend the night?"
A full smile transforms his face.
"Of course."
Ten minutes later, Zayn follows Anais into the living room. He takes a seat on the couch, and watches as she lifts her things into her lap, sitting cross-legged with her laptop and books and papers.
He pauses. "What are you doing?"
Anais looks up from her laptop. "Sitting?"
Zayn looks from himself, at one end of the couch, to her all the way at the other. "All the way over there?"
"Yes, Zayn," Anais laughs. "All the way over here."
He slides nearer, "Why?"
"Because," she sighs, watching as he comes closer. "Okay, buddy, wait just one second," she exclaims, holding out an arm and steadying her computer with the other, "Wait, Zayn," she laughs, because he's practically sitting on top of her, now. "I cannot focus like this."
"What? Like," He drapes his arm around her and the back of the couch, "I thought you needed help with an essay?"
"You're actually going to help me?"
He scoffs. "When haven't I?"
"I know, it's just-"
"It's just...?" He raises an eyebrow. "What, Anais?"
It's just that the way Zayn is looking at her is kind of more than distracting. It's just the way his hand, attached to the arm slung around her, is drawing circles on her shoulder. It's just that her boyfriend is more than a little affectionate, and he's come over to hers and hasn't exactly done a great job of keeping his hands to herself.
Zayn only grins, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip.
"C'mon, then," he says, making grabbing motions with both hands. "Let me read it."
And so hesitantly, Anais hands over her laptop, leaning against the back of the couch and watching Zayn take the computer and, in fact, actually begin to read the words she's written.
"So?" She shifts, sliding closer to him, who presses a quick kiss to her temple. "How bad is it?"
"Not bad," Zayn replies, and this time, he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. One hand rests on her outer thigh as the other sets her laptop back onto her lap. "The only thing I'd change," he continues in a voice Anais thinks is a bit breathier than normal, "is this," he says, pointing out a few corrections.
And Anais nods.
But, see what she means?
See what she means about the hands?
About the touching.
And Anais has to drag her mind from the gutter because Zayn's fingers upon her thigh have hooked around the waistband of her leggings. "Thanks," she replies quickly, pecking his cheek. And Zayn grabs for her, his fingertips grazing her waist as she lifts the laptop from his hands and slides all the way to the opposite end of the couch.
And she types.
He begins to slide her way when Anais shoots him a quick glare over the screen.
"Zayn."
He hums. "Yes, love?"
"Stay."
He scoffs. "Why?"
"...Because."
And Anais again, continues to type.
So, Zayn grunts to himself, pulling out his phone as Anais attempts to finish the essay that she knows she'll never complete if Zayn is beside her, because even she can't trust herself not to give in to the urges she's more than a little sure he's purposefully igniting.
Five minutes pass.
And then ten.
And then fifteen.
And at the twenty minute mark, Zayn looks up from his phone and runs his hands through his hair. "Almost done?" He asks.
"Almost."
"Fine," he shrugs, rising from the couch with a stretch. "I'll be in bed then, so when you're done just-"
"What?"
He laughs. "What do you mean, what?"
"You're leaving me?" She scoffs. "You're absolutely not about to leave me."
"You don't want me here," he replies.
"Uh, of course I do."
He doesn't let her see him smile.
He deadpans, motioning towards her position in the corner of the couch. "You're all the way over there."
"Because I don't want to be distracted, duh."
"You won't let me touch you."
"Because touching is distracting."
He smirks. This is fun.
"Well," and he motions for her to follow him, "C'mon, then."
"I've got to finish."
"God, Anais. Finish, then."
"Wait for me," she pats the couch. "Please?"
"Fine," he says. "You've got," he checks the clock, "I'm giving you twenty minutes, Anais."
"Okay," she grins, watching as he sits, not at the end, but in the center of the couch.
Closer to her.
His eyes widen innocently. "What?"
Anais only shakes her head. "Never mind," she mutters. "Forget it."
Five minutes pass, and already Anais can feel Zayn's eyes on her. She can tell she's the recipient of his lidded gaze and slight smirk. She can tell he's leaned against the couch, head resting on his arm. His fingers are tapping lightly against the leather, and through her peripheral vision can Anais see the contrast of his silver rings and his dark tattoos.
She feels hot.
It's hot.
It's really, really hot all of a sudden.
And then, slowly, painfully slowly, does Zayn lick along the seam of his lips.
Anais doesn't even make it to the tenth minute.
"Okay, " she breathes after seven, "Done."
Zayn is on top of her in an instant. "Fucking finally," he growls, sliding her books and things and computer to the floor.
"Thought you were going to bed," Anais smirks, as Zayn kneels between her legs, sliding her down upon the couch.
He only grins, running his fingers along the outside of her thighs. "Guess we can do this anywhere, can't we?"
Anais' breath hitches in her throat. "What happened to sleeping?"
"Like, we can sleep," he shrugs, but then he grabs her hips, pressing his crotch between her legs, his zipper lined against the seam connecting both halves of her tights. Anais' eyes dilate instantly, and Zayn's pulse quickens but he shrugs again, "S'whatever you want, really."
She grabs his shirt, pulling him towards her. "God-Just shut up, already."
And Zayn laughs. He's chuckling, smiling dizzily as her lips press against his, and as he responds, moving his lips against hers and feeling her hands against his chest and her hips buck against his zipper does he let out a soft moan that offers Anais enough access to flick her tongue along his bottom lip and the tip of his tongue and she pauses, taking his face in her hands and peppering kisses along his jaw and his chin and Zayn doesn't even realize that he's taken his bottom lip sharply in his teeth as her puckered lips linger at the corner of his own.
"I blame you," she whispers, "if my essay's shit," before placing a quick kiss upon his lips and taking his bottom one between her teeth.
And Zayn can't exactly help the way his eyes flutter open, momentarily, before his grasp tightens around Anais waist, his rings cold against her skin as his fingers snake beneath her shirt. His lips reattach hungrily, greedily to her own as he presses himself tighter against her body. And he sucks along her jaw and her neck and her collarbone as Anais' legs hook around his waist. And she moans, her nails scraping his skin through the thin fabric as he licks a bold stripe curving from the base of her neck to the edge of her jaw and nips at her skin.
Anais can hear hear heartbeat in her ears.
She slips her fingers beneath his shirt, feeling his hands leave her ribs and meets his gaze.
She tugs upon the fabric. "Take this off," she breathes.
He stares back. His lips are swollen, eyes swirling and dark. "Take your hair down."
Anais only laughs, reaching for her hair band as Zayn rises to his knees, pulling his shirt over his head. The tee falls to the floor and Anais runs her nails across his sleeve of tattoos. Zayn looks from her fingers to her face, and he smirks, eyebrow raised.
Anais smiles.
Zayn chuckles, falling back between her legs.
He pulls her against him, their lips locking as he breathes deeply, loving the feel of her curly hair against his face, loving the feel of that hair down her back.
And simultaneously does he slip his fingers beneath her crewneck, lifting it slowly, slowly exposing more skin, slowly kissing from her navel to the base of her bra.
Anais is so happy that she's finished her essay. She's so happy that Soo is not home. She's so happy that no one but Zayn can hear her as she moans beneath him upon her couch.
"This is still on," he says, despite the statement doubling as a question, because why the fuck is Anais' sweater still on?
And she laughs, hooking her finger beneath his belt and both waistbands of his jeans and his briefs.
"So are these," she replies, laying her palm flat against his abs, sliding her fingers along the hair trailing from his navel, stopping only as her knuckles disappear into his pants.
He lets out a hiss because fuck.
"Shit, Ana," he sighs, quickly undoing his belt. Anais lifts her crewneck over her head.
Zayn's face and his hands and his attention falls directly upon Anais' chest.
She is so happy Soo is not home.
And suddenly, as she melts beneath Zayn's touch and his lips, Anais stiffens.
"Wait, Zayn."
He hums against her, trailing his finger from the band of her bra to her navel.
"Zayn, wait," Anais whispers, shivering as he follows the pad of his pointer with his tongue.
And she sits up, taking his face in her hands. "Zayn, stop."
He frowns. "What's wrong?"
And that's when they both hear voices.
He lifts a brow. "S'that...?"
And there's a key.
There's a key rattling in the door.
"Shit," Anais jumps. "Shit, shit shit. It's Soo."
Zayn pops up with her. "What happened to her being with Lou?"
"That's what she told me," Anais hisses, as Zayn grabs his shirt and her shirt and takes her hand and grabs his unbuckled belt.
And they're both trying not to laugh - and mostly trying not to get caught - as the keys turn in the door and the sound of both Louis and Soo's voices grow louder in the living room and Zayn is sprinting down the hall with Anais.
"Ana?" Soo calls.
And Zayn laughs silently, slowly shutting Anais' door and pushing her against it. He cups her face in his hands and plays in her hair.
She places a finger to her lips. "Zayn."
"What?" he mouths with wide eyes.
Voices grow louder in the hall.
"Anais? Are you up?"
"Her light's off."
It's Louis.
"Doesn't mean she's sleeping."
"True."
And Anais' chest rises and falls heavily, her breathing uneven as she and Zayn stare at each other in the darkness.
"C'mon, then," Louis says, and what Zayn and Anais cannot see is the way he takes Soo's hand and drags her into her bedroom.
Only when Anais hears the door shut, does she let out a sigh.
"How fucking close of a call was that?" She exclaims, barely above a whisper. "...Fuck me. I-"
"Yeah," Zayn breathes, his breath warm upon her neck and all of her exposed skin. "Good idea," and she falls upon him as he drags her backwards to her bed.
-~*~-
THIS GIF
Also I was gonna put a smut (i hate that word eew) warning at the beginning but that would have given it away so sorry guys lol. *Heads up for next chapter too I guess*
PS this chapter is dedicated to @rewanwaleed because she's translating this story into arabic and I'm so excited ok.