Louis
Silence, absolute peace and quiet.
White clouds pass me by, soft as silk, white as snow. My life is in a flashback. Childhood memories are awakened that I had long forgotten. We are standing in front of my parents' house. Father carries me on his arm, my sisters hold on to his trouser legs and mum smiles. It is the picture of a happy family on a summer's day. I want to talk to them, call for my mother, but no one hears me.
I try hard to open my eyes. The eyelids flutter, all the limbs of my body hurt like hell. Loud babble of voices surrounds my silence. I hear single fragments of words and feel people were bustling around me.
Motionless, I lie between the soft white clouds and taste the warm liquid flowing out of my mouth.
Speaking is difficult for me. My mouth can hardly speak the syllables and my head is throbbing with pain.
Am I alive?
"Zayn...Zayn." I breathe into the air. "Where's Zayn?"
The physical exertion is so great and takes all my strength. "Zayn", I try to call for him before my eyes close with tiredness.
Zayn
The doorbell rings. Rise and shine. Still overtired I get up and put on a shirt and jeans that are much too tight. It was pretty late last night. The preparation of my exhibition has taken up all my time. I still needed individual descriptions to the paintings. So I sat over the texts for hours, wrote, revised and finally printed them out. There is nothing more to do. Exactly twenty-four hours before the opening, everything is ready and perfect. On my way to the window I trip over two empty bottles of red wine, which I had drunk alone yesterday. Next to them is a full ashtray on the floor.
Malik, you clearly drink and smoke too much.
It's ringing again. It can only be Harry, who spontaneously stops by. The old window creaks when opening. I love these sounds. That's life. Every thing in this apartment has a life, its characteristics. The parquet floor creaks with every step I take and reminds me of my student days. It was for this reason alone that I decided to buy this apartment. Nothing here is sterile, symmetrical and new.
My eyes now turn to the street and there he stands, the curly head, somewhat out of breath and with bright eyes. A few seconds later I take him in my arms. "Hazza, darling,' I mumble gently into his ear and inhale his flowery body scent that flows through the hallway.
"Zee, I missed you so much. Have I come at an inconvenient time?" he asks. "I simply would not have stood it any longer without you."
With a shake of the head I deny his question. "Please, Harry. The love of my life never comes at a bad time." My hands hold his rosy cheeks and I press a big kiss on his full lips.
"Zaynie, I need you like the air to breathe. One morning without you and I feel incomplete," he whispers and makes me happy.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" I want to know and gently stroke a curl that has got caught in his eyelashes from his face. He shakes his head. "You haven't eaten anything? Then hurry up. Off to the kitchen with you. I'll make us something delicious." Harry doesn't move a millimeter.
"Oh," he whispers promisingly, "my breakfast is right in front of me, Zee."
Delicate, slightly cool fingertips touch my naked upper body under my shirt and a shiver runs down my spine. "Hazza? What exactly are you up to?"
Moss green eyes sparkle mysteriously and longingly. And like every time, I want to sink into them. With his very hoarse voice he says:
"As you can see, I'm preparing my own breakfast." Now he grins impudently and fumbles with the buttons of my jeans.
"Mmmhh', I moan under these touches. His fingers wander on to my belly button. His index finger runs along the thin, hairy line below and gets caught in the waistband of my boxer shorts.
"Harrehh"
"Sshhh, Zee, don't say anything now. I want to have my breakfast in peace," he whispers and continues.
Slowly I start to relax. But an important part of my body reacts anything but relaxed, especially when Harry only briefly runs over it.
"Breakfast in bed?"
"Mmhh, there's nothing wrong with that, Zayn."
After hot sex, a shower and a big breakfast that I prepared, Harry decides to drop back into our bed. "Let's spend the rest of the day in bed." I watch him and am totally ecstatic about his childlike gestures again.
"Oh, you act like you're a student, not a grown man." I laugh and grasp at his hand.
"You think so?" he giggles.
I nod and lie down on my stomach next to him, my left arm wrapped around his hips and I cover his beautiful face with hundreds of kisses.
"Yes, I think so Harry. Don't you have to write your novel?"
My gorgeous curly head closes its eyes, melts in my caresses and hums contentedly.
"This morning I finished a chapter of the novel. And do you know why?" he asks. Without being able to answer, he says: "So that I have time for the really important things in life".
Surprised, I look into his green eyes.
"Don't raise your eyebrow, Zayn, then you seem a little strict. I like the gentle Zayn better or the passionate one, but not the schoolmasterlike one," he reprimands and turns on his back.
"And what are the important things in life for you, Hazza?"
He thinks briefly, smiles and then says with great seriousness: "You. We. You are my world. We know the secret to happiness."
His lips touch my mouth, touch my cheeks and then press firmly on my lips. The tongue greedily slides into my mouth, looks for my tongue and I notice what Harry is up to. "You're important to me, Zayn."From his words, still in a flood of sensations, my hands slowly slide under his shirt and warm up on his heated skin. "Haz?"
"No time for questions, Zayn." he breathes into my mouth while his tongue still swirls wildly. "I'm kissing the most important person in my life." He rotates his hips seductively.
"Zayn, I want you."
Excited, he presses his wonderful body against mine. "Ride me," he demands suddenly. At first I thought I didn't hear right. Then he repeated it once more. " Zayn, please ride me." His expression shows lust. My sexual fantasy is suddenly gone and my desire too. I lie stiffly on him and want to leave the room immediately.
"Harry... I can't do that." I mumble. His eyes flashed.
"What does that mean , you can't do that?" he whispers seductively and tries to convince me otherwise.
I'm trying to remove myself from this awkward situation. So far the sex with Harry has been fantastic. But if we change positions now, I'm not sure if I like it anymore. This means that I am actually pretty sure that this will have a bad effect on my sex life. I'm going from being a man with a strong sex drive to being a man without a sex drive.
"Uhm...Harry...", I take another chance to make clear these things once and for all. The whirlwind rests on his elbows, stops kissing me and is visibly irritated by my answer.
"Well? Are you trying to tell me something?"
"Honey, our sex is great, I'm enjoying every second of it. So why do we have to change that? I've always been the dominant one and I don't want to suddenly have a dick up my ass to be honest," I say annoyed. Just the thought of that makes me sick. "I just can't."
A mixture of disappointment and outrage finally kills the mood between us. "I need a cigarette," I mumble and leave the large bed without looking at him.
"You're not going to smoke a cigarette, are you?" I nod and hope that I can avoid further explanations. Now the lovely writer is nagging. "Fine. Great. What about my needs? Have you ever thought about it? Does that count for anything in your world? Maybe I'd like to feel my dick inside you and now you're chickening out? You are a great boyfriend!"
At this point I roll my eyes and he reacts promptly. "Look at me, mister, and don't roll your beautiful eyes," he shouts. Just when I want to light the Marlboro, he comes running up to me and takes the cigarette out of my mouth.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
With a tender look he asks: "Zayn, why are you running away from me?" I look into his eyes diffidently. "I don't run away from you," I growl back and fish for a new cigarette from the pack. "Hazza, I just can't do that. It doesn't work. My body has a mind of its own."
"Zaynie, just once. Please, you have to overcome your inhibitions. I want to be deep inside you once and experience that feeling. Only once," he asks, almost begs. For me one thing is certain: I am the dominant, something else is out of the question for me. The same applies to sex with a man. Only Harry may touch me, no other guy.
"Look at me, baby!" Harry says impatiently and stands in front of me. Then he takes my hands in his and looks at me with the sweetest look I've ever seen on him. "Baby, I love you," he whispers. "You're a wonderful man with the biggest ego I have ever seen," he grins all over his face.
I don't have a big ego, I just hide my fears with this behavior. It's all just a facade. I wished the ground would open and swallow me up. My cheeks are glowing.
"You owe me something."
"What? Why?" I want to know.
"You owe me something for fucking me and not letting me fuck you, Malik," he giggles. "Either you're afraid it's unmanly or you're afraid of the pain."
"Hazza, that's not the point. I love you, I would go to the ends of the earth for you. One word from you is enough and I will grant you every wish, but that... I just can't do this."
He tilts his head, puts a finger on his chin and pretends to have to think about it.
"Mmmh...let's see. I think of something. You have a lot to make up to me for, mister. You can count on it."
His thick brown curls cover his shoulders, while he sucks on my neck and gives me hickeys.
"Let's go to bed after you've finished smoking. You owe me a brilliant blowjob, Malik," he breathes into my ear and I feel a warm blush rise to my cheeks. Just the thought of it gives me goose bumps and I am relieved that this topic is off the table.
"Anything you wish, darling."
"And I also mean brilliant! No blow job in hurry, but multi-faceted and slow. I want to enjoy it to the full." he says and fiddles at my belt.
Harry
Zayn's regained his composure. Anyway, his facial features brightened.
"Harry! By the way, this gives me a fantastic idea. Let's not waste any time."
Quickly he takes my hand and pulls me into the next room.
"What are you going to do?", I ask a little surprised by his rush.
"Wait and see, darling. After all, your boyfriend is a gifted artist," he laughs and kneels in front of a wooden box. He rummages around in it and several bottles full of paint come to light.
"Ah, will you finally paint me?"
He shakes his head, placing them on the table, takes off my shirt and jeans. Finally he takes off my boxers. Then he undresses himself. We stand naked facing each other.
"Ah, now I understand. You're naked and you painting me naked." I am shaking with laughter. A naked painter who paints a nude. That's hilarious.
Now the artist finally says something about my thoughts.
"Baby, you don't understand. I don't paint you on canvas, I paint on you." he grins and pushes the tip of his tongue between his front teeth.
I am speechless. "Come on, let's do it, curly!"