I hated waking up in the middle of a deep sleep. I looked around and saw that the living room was still engulfed in darkness, but that's because Zayn had blackout shades and I had a feeling the sun was already up. I tossed and turned a few times but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall back asleep. I tried sitting up, but I was clearly still quite drunk, so I laid back down. I didn't even know what time it was or where my phone was and I felt restless. I decided to do the one thing I knew would help.
I was still in my black skinny jeans, so I wiggled out of them and threw them on the floor next to me. Slowly, I lowered my hand down onto my boxer briefs and felt my cock through the fabric. Whenever I couldn't sleep I usually masturbated because it was the one thing that never failed to make me feel tired, so I began rubbing the length of myself up and down, trying to get hard.
Fuck. It wasn't working.
I lifted my cock out of the opening in my briefs and tried again, but it was still semi erect. I sighed, feeling annoyed. I thought about borrowing Zayn's laptop, which was still on the coffee table next to me, just so I could at least watch porn or something, but that seemed like far too much effort since I couldn't even sit up properly. Instead I closed my eyes and drifted off into my go-to fantasy.
I really hated to admit this, but I fantasized about Zayn and I had no idea why I was like this, but I'm pretty sure it started back in 2011 and I felt guilty and ashamed every time I did it. I had never fooled around with a guy before but the thought of it kind of turned me on and I recalled the number of times in my mind where I heard Zayn wanking at night and it would get me so hard that I couldn't help but masturbate to the thought of him touching himself. It was a secret of mine that I fully intended on taking to my grave.
Then last year, in 2012, Zayn and I started pulling girls together, which only made it worse. We had this group scenario about six months ago where he and I had sex with these two girls at the same time, so I had seen him naked fucking someone and everyone had seen me naked anyway but the point is that my fantasies of Zayn had becoming much more frequent and they were starting to become even more uncontrollable. I guess somewhere deep down inside of me I had a feeling that I had some weird crush on him and I just didn't understand where it came from or why it existed.
I felt my cock starting to get harder as I pumped it up and down slowly. I pictured Zayn upstairs in his room at that moment doing the same exact thing as me and that's what got me where I needed to be. I don't know what it was about picturing this that made me feel excited, but it did. I wanted to hear it, so I pretended that he was moaning and I picked up the pace, grunting a little. Was I gay? No, I wasn't gay. I definitely wasn't gay. I didn't know what I was.
"Zayn..." I accidentally said out loud while I started to jerk my cock even faster and felt my breathing get heavier. God, masturbating always felt ten times better whenever I pictured him. I couldn't even remember the last time that I had fantasized about anyone else when I was alone. It started to feel really good as I kept pumping my fist over my cock, but after awhile I realized that I had felt something else that wasn't there before.
Someone's warm hand was on top of mine as I was jerking off. I froze and my eyes darted open. Zayn was there, kneeling beside me.
What the fuck was going on? There was no way in hell that this was really happening. There was no bloody way. Zayn must have slipped something into my tea because I had to be hallucinating, either that or I passed out again at some point and I was now having a weird, vivid dream. This fantasy was developing into something that felt so real, but I knew that I was dreaming. It was the only rational explanation.
"Am I dreaming?" I accidentally asked out loud, completely in disbelief.
"Yes," Zayn answered softly. "Do you wanna wake up?"
I settled back into this dream, feeling incredibly thankful that my mind was taking me here. My imagination was far more powerful than I thought and Zayn's hand was still on top of mine; I felt my cock throbbing underneath him.
"No," I replied.
I absolutely fucking did not want any of this to stop.
Zayn removed my hand and gripped my cock firmly with his. A chill ran down my spine as he began pumping me up and down, slow and hard. My heart was racing so fast. I felt my legs twitching and this incredible rush surging through my body like waves crashing on the shore. I bit my lip, trying to steady my breathing but I was panting like a dog and I could already feel the pressure building up within the first minute as rivers of pre-cum dripped out of me.
I moaned again and again, feeling my body growing tense as the pleasure took over.
"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God..."
It felt so amazing and I was trying my best to hold off, but it was becoming more difficult. His grip was so firm, his rhythm was so precise and I was a sucker for a really good hand job so I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I felt Zayn jerk me even faster as I tensed up and every fiber within my body intensified, my toes curling, until I finally let myself release.