fic: all about my game
title: all about my game
pairing: Zayn/Niall
rating: NC-17
notes: Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme. ~2100 words.
summary: Zayn still thinks that it’s really too fucking hot for this much physical activity, but he finds that he can’t be all that pissed about it when he looks at Niall.
When Zayn had shown up at the park, there’d already been an impromptu football match underway. He’d tried to beg off, complaining that it’s too hot, but the guys had alternated between pleading for him to join and shouting insults until he gave in. Probably, they only needed one more player to make the teams even because Zayn’s not that great at football. Kind of shit, actually.
Zayn still thinks that it’s really too fucking hot for this much physical activity, but he finds that he can’t be all that pissed about it when he looks at Niall.
There’s barely a cloud in sight, the sun beating down hard, and Niall looks good shirtless and flushed and sweaty the way he is. Zayn can’t stop staring at him, taking in the way he’s tinged pink all the way down his chest, maybe even thinking that he’d like to be the cause of it. Truthfully, he can’t stop touching Niall either, but then Niall’s been touching him, too. They both keep finding excuses to put their hands on each other; jumping on the other whenever either team scores a goal; Niall’s hands going back and gripping his hips when Zayn comes up behind him and tries to steal the ball; Zayn purposely stumbling into Niall just so their legs can get tangled together and his hands can slip across Niall’s chest.
“All right?” Niall laughs, grabbing Zayn’s arms, steadying him. “You wanna sit out for a bit? I know how delicate you are when it comes to being out in the sun.”
“Fuck off,” Zayn says, but he’s grinning. He steps back out of Niall’s space, a little reluctantly, and pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe at his sweaty face. He tenses his stomach when he feels a light touch at his hip, hot fingers brushing over the skin just above the waistband of his shorts. When he looks up, Niall’s just staring at his tattoo.
“Keep forgetting about that one there,” Niall mumbles. He licks his lips, then looks back up at Zayn with a sheepish sort of smile.
And Zayn, he has to walk away at that, jog a bit further across the grass and pretend he actually cares about what’s going on with the ball because it’d be way too humiliating and entirely obvious if he were to get a boner in his jogging shorts.
Then Louis bumps his shoulder into Zayn’s as he passes by, wearing a shit-eating grin and saying, “You two having fun flirting? I’m not one to judge, but honestly, mate, it’s getting a bit much.”
Zayn only rolls his eyes, hooking his foot around Louis’ ankle so he trips over it. Unsurprisingly, Louis makes a big production of it, flailing and shouting as he goes down, “Foul! Foul! Liam, did you see that?” Then he refuses to get up until both Liam and Harry help him, and really, Louis’ one to talk about whether or not anyone’s having fun flirting.
He turns to Niall, pulling a face to share his exasperation at Louis, and finds that Niall’s already looking back at him, grinning. Okay, Zayn thinks, maybe it is getting to be a bit much.
They’ve been doing this for most of the summer, staring too long and touching unnecessarily, but Zayn can barely even think about taking it further without his stomach knotting up and his pulse starting to race. Because it’s all too possible that there’s no meaning behind all the flirting, no intent, and Zayn just couldn’t take it if he went for it and Niall didn’t actually want him like that. But then he thinks about how they’ve been acting around each other these past few weeks, and maybe. Just maybe.
He’s been mostly content with not doing anything about it - because it’s one thing to fantasize about one of your best mates while you’re in the shower, and another thing entirely to try to make that fantasy come true - but now he doesn’t think he can take much more of this. Now something has to be done.
Strangely enough, Louis’ only bothered him about the whole thing a few times, and never in front of the other guys. Like he thinks it’s something significant, something Zayn couldn’t handle everyone joking about, which - whatever, Zayn doesn’t even know what to do with that.
Zayn’s glad when the game finally ends, even if he hasn’t made more than a half-arsed effort for most of it. He feels drained, mostly from the heat, and kind of pathetically drags himself over to the shaded area beneath a huge tree. He hasn’t even sat there a minute before Niall joins him, sitting close enough that their shoulders press together.
“You wanna come over to mine after this?” Niall asks. He wags his eyebrows at Zayn like he thinks that’ll entice him to say yes. “You could even sleep over.”
“Yeah, sure,” Zayn says. He shreds a piece of grass between his fingers, just to have something to do. “I should probably stop home first, though. Shower and get some clothes.”
“Nah, you’ve still got some stuff at my house from last week. Found ‘em mixed in with my clean clothes yesterday.”
That’s probably a sign, Zayn thinks, that they’ve been spending way too much time together already, but still Zayn says, “All right.”
***
Zayn showers after Niall and spends most of it giving himself a mental pep talk. It doesn’t do much good, though, because he still comes out of it nervous as hell.
Niall’s sitting at his computer when Zayn comes into his room. “So what are we doing tonight? Movie? Xbox? Did you see the last video Harry and Louis put on YouTube? Idiots.”
He sits down on Niall’s bed, leaning back against the wall and wiping his sweaty palms across the knees of his sweatpants. He should probably try to calm down soon, or something, because being as wracked with nerves as he is can’t possibly be good for his health. “A movie, I guess,” he says.
Niall sets up a movie on his computer, then throws himself onto his bed next to Zayn, smiling at him. He’s shirtless again, which is really just not fair. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve looked a bit faint ever since we got back.” He sits up now, looking a bit worried. “You don’t actually have heatstroke or something, do you?”
Zayn laughs, weakly. “No, it’s not that. I’m fine.”
Niall’s expression has gone completely serious now, and he nudges the side of Zayn’s thigh with his knuckles. He keeps them pressed there, a fact which does nothing to ease his nerves. “We’re good, right?”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Zayn says, not meaning for it to come out nearly whisper-soft, but it does. He slides his hand over the little bit of space it takes to touch Niall’s, spreading his fingers and covering Niall’s fist. Niall opens his hand until it lies flat on Zayn’s leg, letting Zayn press his fingers into the spaces between his.
Zayn can hear the movie starting, but neither of them are paying attention to it. Niall still looks so serious, even when Zayn’s leaning in close, touching his mouth to the corner of Niall’s. He’s completely still under him, and Zayn takes another chance, sliding over the tiniest bit till it can be considered a proper kiss, then pulls away.
“Fucking hell,” Niall breathes out, and Zayn stares at him, trying to figure out if it’s a positive reaction or not, nearly dizzy with how shaky and unsure he feels. Niall shakes his head a little, raising the hand not under Zayn’s to wrap around the back of his neck and keep him close. “No, it’s just, fuck - I’ve been wanting - been thinking about - ”
And Zayn nods quickly, whispers, “No, yeah, I get it,” because he does. And then he kisses Niall again, licking over his lips because he can do that now. Niall opens up for him, cupping the back of his head, fingers rubbing through the short, damp hair there. He moans, short and surprised sounding when Zayn sucks on his tongue, and it makes Zayn feel a bit crazy with all that he wants to do, makes him desperate to get Niall to make as much noise as possible.
Niall leans back then, pulling Zayn with him so that Zayn ends up lying on top of him. He settles between his legs, and has to stop kissing him for a moment, has to just take in how good it feels to lie on top of Niall like that, so much of their bodies in contact.The way Niall looks a bit dazed, his hand sliding up under Zayn’s shirt to rub across his back, Zayn thinks he’s probably feeling the same.
He leans back in to kiss him again, elbows propped up on either side of Niall’s head. They get lost in it, feeling each other out, kissing slow and hard, so much so that it almost surprises Zayn when Niall’s hands slide down to grab at his arse, pull him down until he can feel their cocks pressed together through their clothes, impossibly hard, and he groans. Niall takes that as an encouragement to keep doing it, pressing Zayn’s arse down over and over so they can rut together, and Zayn kisses him harder until Niall makes a small, pained sound.
Zayn eases back, remembering his braces, and kisses across his cheek and down his neck in apology. “Sorry,” he says, setting his teeth into Niall where his shoulder meets his neck and sucking hard, wanting to leave a mark. Niall moans at that, bucking his hips up, and Zayn rocks down against him, moving one knee outside of Niall’s so he can rub against him steadily.
When Zayn lifts his head from Niall’s neck, from the mark that’s sure to bruise spectacularly, Niall’s got that lovely flush back and his breath is coming unsteadily. They kiss again, softer, but open mouthed and dirty, tongues sliding together, and christ, if Zayn knew this is what he was missing, he would’ve kissed Niall weeks ago, maybe even months ago.
And fuck, he just wants him, wants it so bad that he thinks he’d even be fine with just this, rolling his hips against Niall’s until they both come in their pants. Niall has other ideas, though, reaching between them and rubbing his hand over Zayn’s cock, muttering, “come on, come on.” Zayn groans at the feel of Niall’s hand on him, even through his sweats, feeling embarrassingly close.
Then Niall’s pushing both their bottoms off, clumsily and only far enough that their cocks are out. He gets his hand around both of them, fitting as best as he can and squeezing, and Zayn closes his eyes, whining and trying not to come right then and there. Niall strokes them, but it’s a bit dry, his hand catching, and he swears, nipping Zayn’s bottom lip then licking over it.
“Wait,” Niall mumbles, even though he’s the one that keeps pulling Zayn back in, kissing his mouth, his chin, his jaw, “wait, wait,” and he finally wiggles out from under Zayn far enough to reach into the drawer of the bedside table and pull out a bottle of lotion. Zayn buries his face in Niall’s neck when he sees it, laughing giddily, and Niall says, “Oh, shut up. Like you don’t have materials, or whatever.”
“Materials,” Zayn repeats, laughing even harder.
“Oi,” Niall mutters, biting at Zayn’s neck lightly. He turns them both over so they end up on their sides.
Niall squeezes some lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up, then he’s wrapping his hand around just Zayn’s cock this time, and he hisses at how good it feels, pushing his hips up into Niall’s touch. He covers Niall’s hand with his own until he gathers enough slickness to slide his hand smoothly up and down Niall’s cock.
They’re just breathing into each other’s mouths now, too far gone for kissing, and Zayn’s hand on Niall stops moving when it gets to be too much. His back curves as he presses his face to Niall’s neck, moaning as spills over Niall’s fist, even dirtying the hem of his shirt. Zayn stays there for a moment, panting. When he notices that Niall’s started stroking his own cock, he knocks his hand away, stroking Niall tight and fast and sinking his teeth into Niall’s shoulder. Niall’s arm goes around Zayn’s shoulder, keeping him there, and his hips jerk into Zayn’s hand as he comes, Zayn’s name on his lips.
When they’re both almost breathing normally again, Zayn moves back so that they can look at each other. He sees that Niall’s got this little smile, like he’s thinking what just happened was unbelievable, and Zayn just has to press their mouths together, kiss that smile because he kind of can’t believe it happened either.
“Maybe next time we can actually get naked for this,” Niall mumbles into the kiss, and Zayn can’t help the huge smile he gets when he hears that, the certainty in Niall’s voice when he says next time.
pairing: Zayn/Niall
rating: NC-17
notes: Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme. ~2100 words.
summary: Zayn still thinks that it’s really too fucking hot for this much physical activity, but he finds that he can’t be all that pissed about it when he looks at Niall.
When Zayn had shown up at the park, there’d already been an impromptu football match underway. He’d tried to beg off, complaining that it’s too hot, but the guys had alternated between pleading for him to join and shouting insults until he gave in. Probably, they only needed one more player to make the teams even because Zayn’s not that great at football. Kind of shit, actually.
Zayn still thinks that it’s really too fucking hot for this much physical activity, but he finds that he can’t be all that pissed about it when he looks at Niall.
There’s barely a cloud in sight, the sun beating down hard, and Niall looks good shirtless and flushed and sweaty the way he is. Zayn can’t stop staring at him, taking in the way he’s tinged pink all the way down his chest, maybe even thinking that he’d like to be the cause of it. Truthfully, he can’t stop touching Niall either, but then Niall’s been touching him, too. They both keep finding excuses to put their hands on each other; jumping on the other whenever either team scores a goal; Niall’s hands going back and gripping his hips when Zayn comes up behind him and tries to steal the ball; Zayn purposely stumbling into Niall just so their legs can get tangled together and his hands can slip across Niall’s chest.
“All right?” Niall laughs, grabbing Zayn’s arms, steadying him. “You wanna sit out for a bit? I know how delicate you are when it comes to being out in the sun.”
“Fuck off,” Zayn says, but he’s grinning. He steps back out of Niall’s space, a little reluctantly, and pulls up the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe at his sweaty face. He tenses his stomach when he feels a light touch at his hip, hot fingers brushing over the skin just above the waistband of his shorts. When he looks up, Niall’s just staring at his tattoo.
“Keep forgetting about that one there,” Niall mumbles. He licks his lips, then looks back up at Zayn with a sheepish sort of smile.
And Zayn, he has to walk away at that, jog a bit further across the grass and pretend he actually cares about what’s going on with the ball because it’d be way too humiliating and entirely obvious if he were to get a boner in his jogging shorts.
Then Louis bumps his shoulder into Zayn’s as he passes by, wearing a shit-eating grin and saying, “You two having fun flirting? I’m not one to judge, but honestly, mate, it’s getting a bit much.”
Zayn only rolls his eyes, hooking his foot around Louis’ ankle so he trips over it. Unsurprisingly, Louis makes a big production of it, flailing and shouting as he goes down, “Foul! Foul! Liam, did you see that?” Then he refuses to get up until both Liam and Harry help him, and really, Louis’ one to talk about whether or not anyone’s having fun flirting.
He turns to Niall, pulling a face to share his exasperation at Louis, and finds that Niall’s already looking back at him, grinning. Okay, Zayn thinks, maybe it is getting to be a bit much.
They’ve been doing this for most of the summer, staring too long and touching unnecessarily, but Zayn can barely even think about taking it further without his stomach knotting up and his pulse starting to race. Because it’s all too possible that there’s no meaning behind all the flirting, no intent, and Zayn just couldn’t take it if he went for it and Niall didn’t actually want him like that. But then he thinks about how they’ve been acting around each other these past few weeks, and maybe. Just maybe.
He’s been mostly content with not doing anything about it - because it’s one thing to fantasize about one of your best mates while you’re in the shower, and another thing entirely to try to make that fantasy come true - but now he doesn’t think he can take much more of this. Now something has to be done.
Strangely enough, Louis’ only bothered him about the whole thing a few times, and never in front of the other guys. Like he thinks it’s something significant, something Zayn couldn’t handle everyone joking about, which - whatever, Zayn doesn’t even know what to do with that.
Zayn’s glad when the game finally ends, even if he hasn’t made more than a half-arsed effort for most of it. He feels drained, mostly from the heat, and kind of pathetically drags himself over to the shaded area beneath a huge tree. He hasn’t even sat there a minute before Niall joins him, sitting close enough that their shoulders press together.
“You wanna come over to mine after this?” Niall asks. He wags his eyebrows at Zayn like he thinks that’ll entice him to say yes. “You could even sleep over.”
“Yeah, sure,” Zayn says. He shreds a piece of grass between his fingers, just to have something to do. “I should probably stop home first, though. Shower and get some clothes.”
“Nah, you’ve still got some stuff at my house from last week. Found ‘em mixed in with my clean clothes yesterday.”
That’s probably a sign, Zayn thinks, that they’ve been spending way too much time together already, but still Zayn says, “All right.”
***
Zayn showers after Niall and spends most of it giving himself a mental pep talk. It doesn’t do much good, though, because he still comes out of it nervous as hell.
Niall’s sitting at his computer when Zayn comes into his room. “So what are we doing tonight? Movie? Xbox? Did you see the last video Harry and Louis put on YouTube? Idiots.”
He sits down on Niall’s bed, leaning back against the wall and wiping his sweaty palms across the knees of his sweatpants. He should probably try to calm down soon, or something, because being as wracked with nerves as he is can’t possibly be good for his health. “A movie, I guess,” he says.
Niall sets up a movie on his computer, then throws himself onto his bed next to Zayn, smiling at him. He’s shirtless again, which is really just not fair. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve looked a bit faint ever since we got back.” He sits up now, looking a bit worried. “You don’t actually have heatstroke or something, do you?”
Zayn laughs, weakly. “No, it’s not that. I’m fine.”
Niall’s expression has gone completely serious now, and he nudges the side of Zayn’s thigh with his knuckles. He keeps them pressed there, a fact which does nothing to ease his nerves. “We’re good, right?”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Zayn says, not meaning for it to come out nearly whisper-soft, but it does. He slides his hand over the little bit of space it takes to touch Niall’s, spreading his fingers and covering Niall’s fist. Niall opens his hand until it lies flat on Zayn’s leg, letting Zayn press his fingers into the spaces between his.
Zayn can hear the movie starting, but neither of them are paying attention to it. Niall still looks so serious, even when Zayn’s leaning in close, touching his mouth to the corner of Niall’s. He’s completely still under him, and Zayn takes another chance, sliding over the tiniest bit till it can be considered a proper kiss, then pulls away.
“Fucking hell,” Niall breathes out, and Zayn stares at him, trying to figure out if it’s a positive reaction or not, nearly dizzy with how shaky and unsure he feels. Niall shakes his head a little, raising the hand not under Zayn’s to wrap around the back of his neck and keep him close. “No, it’s just, fuck - I’ve been wanting - been thinking about - ”
And Zayn nods quickly, whispers, “No, yeah, I get it,” because he does. And then he kisses Niall again, licking over his lips because he can do that now. Niall opens up for him, cupping the back of his head, fingers rubbing through the short, damp hair there. He moans, short and surprised sounding when Zayn sucks on his tongue, and it makes Zayn feel a bit crazy with all that he wants to do, makes him desperate to get Niall to make as much noise as possible.
Niall leans back then, pulling Zayn with him so that Zayn ends up lying on top of him. He settles between his legs, and has to stop kissing him for a moment, has to just take in how good it feels to lie on top of Niall like that, so much of their bodies in contact.The way Niall looks a bit dazed, his hand sliding up under Zayn’s shirt to rub across his back, Zayn thinks he’s probably feeling the same.
He leans back in to kiss him again, elbows propped up on either side of Niall’s head. They get lost in it, feeling each other out, kissing slow and hard, so much so that it almost surprises Zayn when Niall’s hands slide down to grab at his arse, pull him down until he can feel their cocks pressed together through their clothes, impossibly hard, and he groans. Niall takes that as an encouragement to keep doing it, pressing Zayn’s arse down over and over so they can rut together, and Zayn kisses him harder until Niall makes a small, pained sound.
Zayn eases back, remembering his braces, and kisses across his cheek and down his neck in apology. “Sorry,” he says, setting his teeth into Niall where his shoulder meets his neck and sucking hard, wanting to leave a mark. Niall moans at that, bucking his hips up, and Zayn rocks down against him, moving one knee outside of Niall’s so he can rub against him steadily.
When Zayn lifts his head from Niall’s neck, from the mark that’s sure to bruise spectacularly, Niall’s got that lovely flush back and his breath is coming unsteadily. They kiss again, softer, but open mouthed and dirty, tongues sliding together, and christ, if Zayn knew this is what he was missing, he would’ve kissed Niall weeks ago, maybe even months ago.
And fuck, he just wants him, wants it so bad that he thinks he’d even be fine with just this, rolling his hips against Niall’s until they both come in their pants. Niall has other ideas, though, reaching between them and rubbing his hand over Zayn’s cock, muttering, “come on, come on.” Zayn groans at the feel of Niall’s hand on him, even through his sweats, feeling embarrassingly close.
Then Niall’s pushing both their bottoms off, clumsily and only far enough that their cocks are out. He gets his hand around both of them, fitting as best as he can and squeezing, and Zayn closes his eyes, whining and trying not to come right then and there. Niall strokes them, but it’s a bit dry, his hand catching, and he swears, nipping Zayn’s bottom lip then licking over it.
“Wait,” Niall mumbles, even though he’s the one that keeps pulling Zayn back in, kissing his mouth, his chin, his jaw, “wait, wait,” and he finally wiggles out from under Zayn far enough to reach into the drawer of the bedside table and pull out a bottle of lotion. Zayn buries his face in Niall’s neck when he sees it, laughing giddily, and Niall says, “Oh, shut up. Like you don’t have materials, or whatever.”
“Materials,” Zayn repeats, laughing even harder.
“Oi,” Niall mutters, biting at Zayn’s neck lightly. He turns them both over so they end up on their sides.
Niall squeezes some lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up, then he’s wrapping his hand around just Zayn’s cock this time, and he hisses at how good it feels, pushing his hips up into Niall’s touch. He covers Niall’s hand with his own until he gathers enough slickness to slide his hand smoothly up and down Niall’s cock.
They’re just breathing into each other’s mouths now, too far gone for kissing, and Zayn’s hand on Niall stops moving when it gets to be too much. His back curves as he presses his face to Niall’s neck, moaning as spills over Niall’s fist, even dirtying the hem of his shirt. Zayn stays there for a moment, panting. When he notices that Niall’s started stroking his own cock, he knocks his hand away, stroking Niall tight and fast and sinking his teeth into Niall’s shoulder. Niall’s arm goes around Zayn’s shoulder, keeping him there, and his hips jerk into Zayn’s hand as he comes, Zayn’s name on his lips.
When they’re both almost breathing normally again, Zayn moves back so that they can look at each other. He sees that Niall’s got this little smile, like he’s thinking what just happened was unbelievable, and Zayn just has to press their mouths together, kiss that smile because he kind of can’t believe it happened either.
“Maybe next time we can actually get naked for this,” Niall mumbles into the kiss, and Zayn can’t help the huge smile he gets when he hears that, the certainty in Niall’s voice when he says next time.