Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/515984.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Zayn_Malik/Anthony_Riach
  Character:
      Zayn_Malik, Anthony_Riach
  Series:
      Part 1 of Own_Me_Quiet
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-09-19 Words: 1920
****** Had My All By Now ******
by hostagesfic
Summary
     “Y’okay?” Zayn murmurs, looking up at Ant with sleepy eyes- it’s a
     lie, Ant wants to protest, those are eyes of seduction and his
     downfall- and raising one eyebrow eloquently.
Notes
     Part of a much larger, rambling verse called Own Me Quiet, that may
     appear... at some point. Wherein since Ant is tiny, he's kind of bad
     at not coming really fast? We're great at plots, promise. Porn! Title
     from x. [LJ]
Zayn honestly cannot count how many times he's woken up to Danny prodding at
his calves, standing at the end of Ant's tiny bed at the Riachs’ house or, this
time, the side of Zayn's bed at their apartment.
"Feels weird waking up my brother when he's naked in someone else's bed, so
like," Danny says, makes a vague gesture, "breakfast."
Ant grumbles and pushes his face into Zayn's collarbone. His cock grinds into
Zayn's thigh and Zayn grins lazily at Danny, "Go eat breakfast b’y'self, mate,
we won't be out f'awhile."
Danny makes a supremely unimpressed, grossed out face, and Zayn adds, "An' shut
the door on y'way out, yeah? S'weird knowing you can hear me havin' sex with
your brother."
"I'm eating all the turkey bacon!" Danny yells as he slams the door.
Zayn makes a face and tips Ant's head back. "Whataya think, turkey bacon or
sex, babe?"
Ant is, of course, upset that he has to make a choice. "Both," he groans,
rocking against Zayn's hip. "Quickie. C'mon."
Zayn huffs a laugh that he mostly turns into a kiss to Ant's hair, but Ant can
feel his amusement. "You last longer'n five minutes and I'll take you out for
whatever you want," Zayn offers, managing to sound generally more on the side
of affectionate than laughing.
"Oh," Ant says, and- okay, he can try. He chews on his lip, slows his rocking
hips down a little in the face of an even bigger reward. He’ll have to get the
rules clear before he can agree to anything, of course. "Will you time it?"
"Duh," Zayn does laugh, this time, shortly and fondly, and sits up, reaching
for his phone. "Wh'd'ya want? I set the terms, so, you pick y'poison?"
Ant hums. He'll have to compromise if he wants to last. "Can we like- I like
rubbing off on each other? Like- like, y'know, touching." He makes an awkward
gesture to try to convey his point.
Zayn grins, sharp, and nods. "Starting now, yeah?" he clicks the start on his
screen, rolls back to Ant and hitches a thigh over his waist, pressing down on
his erection. "You realize," he breathes, hot and moist just below Ant's ear,
"that this time I actually have incentive to make you come fast, right? and I
never have a problem, anyway."
“i've gotten better," Ant exhales, can't help arching up and grinding against
Zayn. This whole waking up naked thing does have its perks.
Zayn smiles against his pulse and then scrapes his teeth against it, sucking
gently before moving to his jaw, leaving a light mark. "Yeah," he agrees, "sure
you have."
Ant chews on his lip as he focuses on dragging out the pleasure- the friction
makes his skin and insides warm, sweet and low in his belly. He closes his
eyes, briefly, trying to be less desperate, less hungry, and this is something
he’s been working on, too: enjoying the whole process and compromising speed
for the sake of making it all last longer.
Zayn, however, takes it like a contest, rolling them over and pulling Ant on
top of him. With his free arm, he reaches down to line their cocks up together.
Ant's hips stutter and he has to bite down hard on his lip, almost drawing
blood, to keep from coming, eyes squeezed shut. Zayn is relentless, and even
with his eyes closed, Ant knows he’s smirking.
"Always get me so messy," Zayn says, conversationally, spreads a hand at the
small of Ant's back and figures he'll take a chance- it's as good a moment for
experimentation as any- and gently presses his middle finger down the crack of
his ass, teasing.
Ant gasps and almost loses his balance- falling on Zayn seems like a horribly
unsexy thing to do, though, so he resettles himself and looks at Zayn with wide
eyes, shoulders tense. It’s not that he’s never tried it, but never with Zayn-
he was okay with what they had, rubbing off and wanking each other and sucking
each other off, and hadn’t considered bringing up the possibility of more.
“Y’okay?” Zayn murmurs, looking up at Ant with sleepy eyes- it’s a lie, Ant
wants to protest, those are eyes of seduction and his downfall- and raising one
eyebrow eloquently.
“This wasn’t in the rules,” Ant whines, rocking down against Zayn with the
excuse of getting away from his hand. It’s not his most effective plan, has him
getting both the tight friction and the light teasing at his entrance.
Zayn leans up to nuzzle against his neck, nip at the space of warm skin where
throat meets shoulder. “Been five minutes, figured you’ve won anyway, might’s
well do what I want before I gotta buy your arse breakfast.” And he grins a
little, sucks at Ant’s collarbone lightly.
Ant quirks an eyebrow. “Dry, Zayn? Are you- can, um.”
Zayn huffs a laugh and tips his head back to look at Ant’s scrunchy face. “Not
stupid, babe, ‘d you think I was actually going to-” he cuts off, kissing Ant
to hold off any protests, and pulling his hand back, sliding two fingers into
his mouth and humming around them, challenging.
“Right,” Ant groans, “Fuck.” He thinks if Zayn doesn’t get his hands on him
soon, he’ll come just from watching him suck his fingers obscenely. It’s a
trying life when Zayn is possibly the most attractive person Ant’s ever seen,
and he’s into being a tease.
“Yeah,” Zayn breathes, and reaches back around, his hand between them
tightening around the base of Ant’s dick, tugging up his length slowly as he
presses a single wet fingertip against him.
Stomach tensing, toes curling, and mind blanking entirely, Ant comes sputtering
over Zayn’s fist and across his stomach. He vaguely registers the sight and
sound of Zayn laughing under him, the feel of his hand stroking him through his
orgasm, the fondness in his eyes.
Zayn’s laughter doesn’t stop when Ant topples over on him, breathing too hard,
and he simply smiles into his shoulder, holds onto his waist and maneuvers him
over after a minute, until they’re tucked together on their sides. He plays
idly with the come across Ant’s stomach, fingers dragging through the sparse
dark hairs under his belly button, and waits for Ant to get his breath back.
The first thing Ant does as soon as he regains coherence is croak a small
“Sorry, Z.” Zayn, as always, just looks amused. “Can we work on that?”
“You’re good,” Zayn says, exhales a bit shakier than he’d like to admit. “But
yeah, if y’like, babe.”
Ant nods, then nonchalantly wraps a hand around Zayn, gives him a few strokes
and rubs the wet head with his palm. “Now, you owe me breakfast. C’mon.”
“Worst boyfriend ever,” Zayn grumbles, pushing into Ant’s hand, forehead
wrinkling up.
“He says, as I wank him off,” Ant laughs. He twists his hand, tightens around
the base of Zayn’s cock. “Ungrateful bastard.”
Zayn makes a low, half-amused, half-turned on noise, tugs at the short hair at
the back of Ant’s head. “Can’t b’lieve you’re d’manding I hurry it up so you
can get your turkey bacon,” he explains, closes his eyes. “After I was so
nice.”
Ant clicks his tongue. “I’m determined to get what I want,” he says, punctuates
his words with a sharp twist of his wrist on the upstroke, fingers going tight
under the head of Zayn’s dick. “And you can give me what I want if you
cooperate. Everybody wins.”
Zayn ducks his head to press his forehead to Ant’s chest, breathe harshly
against his sternum. He has to keep his eyes clinched tight against the sight
of Ant’s hand around his cock, though, just the noises enough to make his spine
tingle, back arch. “If you hadn’t nutted off,” he grits out, “could be coming
inside you right now.”
It’s a low blow, one that makes Ant’s cock twitch way too soon after his
orgasm. “Just- just c’mon,” Ant pleads, noses at Zayn’s hair and strokes him
faster. “Zayn, come on.”
“Fuckin’,” Zayn moans, and wonders if he could hold off, just to test Ant. But
his stupid big hand, warm and sweaty and slick with his own come is working
over Zayn too desperately, and he’s so eager to please, and Zayn is a little
bit fond and a lot endeared and sort of wants to indulge him.
Ant takes every sound, every hitch of both breath and hips, as encouragement
and as a sign that he’s doing it right, that he’ll get what he wants soon.
“Yeah,” he nods, plasters himself along Zayn’s side completely, watching from
above Zayn’s head. “Like that, Zayn, c’mon.”
“Ant,” Zayn chokes, the tiniest of sounds, whimpered as he looks up at Ant, and
curls over his hand, clutches at Ant’s side. Somehow he’s not even embarrassed,
too relieved and too caught up in the fact that Ant is so close.
“It’s unfair,” Ant says, hand stopping near the head of Zayn’s cock to thumb
around the head and over the slit, “that I came so fast because you’re so good,
and you’re taking this long to come for me.” He frowns a little, even, despite
Zayn not being able to see him.
“I’m c-” and Zayn just gives up on that thought, sets his teeth into the hollow
at the base of Ant’s throat and jerks into his grip, coming with a whine.
Ant does stroke him through his orgasm; watches, entranced, as Zayn stripes his
own olive skin, heaving and tense. When he’s down to a gentle pace he says,
close to Zayn’s ear, “See? That’s more like it.” It’s only a little bit out of
character for him to try and exert some sort of power over Zayn, but in the
thrill of the moment it feels natural- the smugness is all real, doused with
generous affection and appreciation.
Slumping into Ant’s chest, Zayn shivers- as much at the words as the warm
breath ghosting over his ear. “Getting bossy,” he mumbles, slowly tipping his
head back to nudge his nose to Ant’s throat. Everything feels hazy from drawing
it out, and he’s glad Ant has an arm around him to keep him from drifting.
“Anchor,” he thinks aloud, and sighs in relief when Ant lets go of his cock,
lays his wet hand over his hip.
Grinning, Ant strokes his thumb over Zayn’s hip, spreading a stain of come
there. “That’d be a neat tattoo,” he comments absentmindedly. He’s been
thinking about getting more, especially with all the ones Zayn’s gotten that
make him feel left behind, almost.
“Maybe,” Zayn breathes, “I should get one for you.”
Ant figures as long as Zayn doesn’t point it out, he can pretend his breath
never hitched at all. “You should get me breakfast first,” he says, grins at
his own cleverness- and hopes, maybe, that they can get the tattoos together
someday.
And Zayn laughs, presses knuckles into Ant’s side like they’re kids again and
says, “There’s no way you’re letting me go back to sleep, is there.”
“Breakfast,” Ant presses, taps his toes against Zayn’s calf before sitting up
and stretching his arms over his head, trying not to think too much of the
drying come on his hand.
Zayn groans and turns his head into the pillow. “Insufferable,” he mutters,
before finally sitting up, too, and pressing a single, soft kiss to Ant’s
shoulder. “Let’s get you breakfast, then.”
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