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vex-bittys · 6 years

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A Mamba Among Mambas: A Lamiatale Bittybones Story

Second place fic raffle winner mage0flight requested a Mamba adoption story of epic proportions, and no Mamba worth his shiny scales could turn down a challenge like that.

More information about lamiatale bittybones

(Under the cut for length)

Every Mamba bittybones, miniature and full-sized, is born majestic; Splendor is simply a trait of the species. From the moment this Mamba hatched, however, he could sense in himself a transcendent greatness that could never be equalled, even by his own kind.

Though Edgar, the nursery caretaker, tried to treat each and every hatchling with the same loving care, he held a special place in his heart for the young Mambas and often spoiled them. No baby lamia grew more spoiled than this particular Mamba either. He arrived first to every meal, and only played with the most coveted of toys. He developed hunting skills and speed that easily surpassed that of his clutchmates.

The Mamba assumed that as soon as he left the nursery for the Adoption Center proper, he would quickly be snatched up by a suitably subservient and worshipful owner. Perhaps the humans would even fight over the supreme honor of adopting a Mamba of such distinguished attributes. He primped and preened ceaselessly in preparation, but when the day came to shed the scales of infancy and don the mantle of adulthood, the Mamba ended up sorely disappointed.

Once he moved into the Mamba enclosure with the rest of the adult Mambas, he didn’t stand out at all! Every single Mamba, full-sized and miniature, had iridescent scales that shimmered and shone. Not a single toy went uncaptured during playtime, and he never got to the feedings first! In fact it turned that he was just a normal, average Mamba!

Still, the human supplicants and potential adopters couldn’t miss his regal displays. One of them would become smitten with him and scoop him up to be spoiled and pampered in his own domain soon enough. He believed it in his very SOUL.

The next day, the admirers came. They brought luxurious gifts and abundant praise, but they also shared it out amongst every Mamba in the shop. Glitter lotions were evenly distributed until every scale in the enclosure sparkled. The Mambas were presented with a wide variety of toys and treats, and no Mamba received more than any other.

When it came time to dance and display to win over the crowd, every Mamba basked in the attention. None of them stood out to the unobservant onlookers. They ooh’ed and ahh’ed seemingly at random. The Mamba outdid himself backflipping and pirouetting, and the people ignored him to watch a much smaller Mamba spin in a circle. Unbelievable! How dare they! Nobody noticed him at all, and he wanted to shriek in frustration.

That night the Mamba curled up tightly in his blankets far away from the other Mambas. He tried as hard as he could not to cry, but he couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down his cheeks. Why couldn’t anyone else see how great he was? What if nobody wanted to adopt a plain, uninteresting Mamba like himself? The Mamba sniffled and whimpered, but now that he was an adult and not a hatchling, there would be no kind Edgar to comfort him.

The days passed, and the Mamba became more and more listless. The more listless he became, the fewer potential adopters were interested in him. Nobody wanted to take home a Mamba who didn’t even have the energy to strike a fierce pose and capture an elusive feather lure. Some of the other Mambas encouraged him, bribing him with lotions and squeaky toys. They didn’t want others to think that such a limp noodle represented their kind, but he didn’t respond to their overtures and they eventually left him alone.

A week after the Mamba had moved into the Adoption Center, he overheard someone talking about him. A Chain accompanied the stranger as she wandered around the shop. The two of them discussed seeing his impressive display on his second day out of the nursery. They remembered him! The Mamba slithered forward, chirping excitedly and preparing to repeat the display that they had enjoyed so much, but they were leaving the shop already! He’d missed them! They wanted him, and they were getting away!

The Mamba slithered quickly over to the front window of the shop and pressed himself up against the glass to catch another glimpse of them. The stranger had collected two other bitties who had been waiting for her outside- a Papython, and a Cujo bitty. The Cujo bitty appeared to be a bit uncomfortable about the close proximity of so many lamias at once, but he stayed close to the woman as she walked down the sidewalk and out of the Mamba’s life. A service bitty perhaps? The Mamba wondered. He didn’t have time to speculate though, he had to catch up to them!

Frantic, the lamia dropped to the floor and headed for the doggy door that the Chains used to come and go as they pleased. He had to hurry before they got too far ahead and out of his sight. He might never find them again! The Mamba shoved through the opening and quickly turned to where he had last seen the woman and her three bittybones. They were rounding the corner, but he hadn’t missed them. He summoned all of his energy and sped after them.

One disadvantage of being a miniature Mamba is that a normal stride is significantly faster than a small snake slither. Despite his best efforts, the Mamba fell further and further behind. Soon he’d tired himself out following his admirer. He desperately needed to rest; she’d gotten lost in the crowd anyway.

With a tired sigh, the Mamba curled up against a brick wall, regaining his energy and preparing for the slow slither of defeat back to the shop. He hoped she would come back. He’d keep himself primped and preened for her return, ready to perform his finest dance for the one worthy human who had noticed him.

If the Mamba had not been so preoccupied with his thoughts, he might have realized the danger of the shadow that fell over him. Instead, it came as a complete surprise when a massive hawk snatched the lamia up in its talons, mistaking the miniature monster for a common reptile. The Mamba hissed in displeasure.

Ignoring the sharp claws that punctured his flesh, the Mamba twisted in the bird’s talons to deliver his fatal bite. He sank his fangs deeply into the bird’s feathered body, injecting every drop of lethal venom he could produce into his enemy. The poison quickly took effect, loosening the raptor’s grip on the Mamba’s body. Only then did the Mamba realize his error. He’d bitten the hawk while it was still airborne.

Bird and lamia tumbled end over end through the sky, plummeting towards the unforgiving ground below. The Mamba finally broke free of the bird’s wickedly curved talons, leaving deep furrows in the flesh of his magical body. Drops of blood chased the Mamba on his downward plunge, and he could do nothing to staunch their flow or slow his descent.

The Mamba braced himself for the impact, but instead of hitting hard-packed earth or rough concrete, he collided with something soft. The soft thing made a raspy “oof” sound as it wrapped what felt like arms very protectively around the Mamba’s body. “Gotcha,” the raspy voice then proclaimed, settling his body against the folds of some plush fabric, perhaps that of a sweater.

Nobody dared to capture a fearsome Mamba! Adrenaline still coursed through the Mamba’s body, and his fight or flight instincts hadn’t yet diminished. Though grateful for his life, the Mamba could not tolerate such uninvited familiarity, so he repeated his earlier action, which had proven to be a mistake, by biting the hands that held him.

The second time was also a mistake. Not only were the hands hard, unyielding bone, but the owner of the hands- and the raspy voice- simply chuckled at his efforts. Chuckled! At his efforts!

“You won’t get anywhere bitin’ me. I’m immune to venom,” commented the Mamba’s rescuer, who he now recognized as a full-sized Chain lamia.

“Whatcha got there, Link?” asked a cheerful female voice. What… were these the same two visitors to the shop who had loved his display dance?

The Chain held him up before the woman, Lion King style. How undignified! The position did allow him to see the woman’s face though. It was her!

“The Mamba from the shop!” Apparently she found him easy to identify from his nearly identical brethren. “I’d know him anywhere. He has those really dark purple scales. He did backflips!” She sounded so impressed, as she should be, of course!

The Chain brushed the grime from his adventure gently off of his scales, as a good and loyal Chain should. “He’s hurt, but I think he’ll be ok. No hawk can take out a badass Mamba like this one,” the Chain proclaimed, winning the Mamba’s favor in the space of a sentence.

“Well, we have to adopt him now,” the woman cried excitedly, snatching him from the Chain’s hands and planting a kiss on the top of his skull. “No other Mamba could ever top a stunt like that!”

Beautiful. Fast. Brave. Spectacular. He’d danced his way into this woman’s heart and made himself memorable to her. He’d tamed her rowdy companion Chain and secured his adoption by making a grander entrance than any other Mamba in history. He truly was a Mamba among Mambas.

INDEX

#vexy writes #lamiatale #lamiatale bittybones #lamia bittybones #lamia bitty adoption #mamba bittybones #mamba bitty #fic raffle winner #mage0flight

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ohthathurt · 6 years

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Bring Me Home

Prompt: You were away for a while and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety…sorry?

Also inspired by this art

Heaving up his shoulder bag, Liam absently rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, digging into a travelling bag in front of him on the trolley for his water bottle. Flying sucked balls. Obscene as that description may be, it was God’s honest truth and he couldn’t wait to get out of the airport and into a private car that took him to their flat. His and Zaynie’s flat in New York.

He had just landed a few minutes ago and thankfully it being a late flight there weren’t as many people milling in and out, which always set Paddy on edge, sticking to Liam like Velcro. Baggage claim done, he followed his security out towards the arrivals gate and out of the airport’s exit sliding doors.

This time, no paps were present to document his entry into New York because of obvious reasons but Liam was grateful for them, he was sure he looked a mess. Face wrinkled with however little sleep he could manage and hair sticking up on all ends thanks to the residual hair wax, he was surprised no one gave him the stink eye.

He dropped heavily onto the soft seats of the car, a black sedan with tinted windows, and immediately curled up to go back to sleep. From the front passenger seat, he could hear Paddy look back at him and scoff but Liam ignored him for the sweet call of slumber and dreams full of happy amber eyes.

It was much later that he jolted up as he heard a sharp rap against the window that his face was currently smushed up against, haphazardly wiping off any drool that may have accumulated.

He looked around in a daze and he found the car was parked in idle in a narrow alley behind a building. The flat’s back entrance, then.

It was already beginning to be sunrise so he pushed himself out the car door and walked towards the building’s back entrance, an inconspicuous looking door with matte black paint on it. Liam wobbled his way through the door and robotically made his way towards their flat. A quick swipe and the security checks were sorted as he finally stepped into his home.

The smell of vanilla and dog food welcomed him as he sleepily chuckled, so Zayn was sneaking Rhino in behind his back. Their dogs, more like babies, weren’t always allowed in the flat whenever they lived here, due to Rhino’s tendency to run in open areas and Loki loved the gardens at their LA mansion.

But Liam stopped short of their living room, the coffee table a mess of comics and coasters, sheets of paper strewn around no doubt filled with mindless lyrics or wordless melodies. His heart ached to hear the soft pads of feet across their plush carpet, a wide grin with a scrunchy nose and lively eyes. He longed for those thin, wiry arms to wind around his neck, his husband a light weight in his arms as he jumped up to greet Liam.

All he wanted was to bury his nose in the soft, raven hair and breathe in the familiar but still intoxicating scent of Zayn.

God, he’s such a sap, if his husband was here he’d get a roll of the eyes and a scoff but still with a hint of rosy cheeks. Even after all these years, Zayn still loved to hear how much he meant to Liam.

With a shake of his head, Liam forced himself out of his head. Right, first things first.

He took long strides towards their bedroom, the door half open with the king sized bed in view, and all clean white sheets. Unlacing his shoes, he kicked them off in a hurry outside the bedroom’s entrance and made his way towards the wardrobe room. Of course, they had a wardrobe room; where else would Zayn keep the innumerous clothing items he received on the daily.

Liam flicked on the dim orange light of the tiny space and made his way towards the far left corner, where his own drawer of things was situated. Swiftly sliding it open, he reached in for a small velvet pouch. He shook its contents out onto his palm with a small smile as he finally slid on his wedding band.

Now he felt complete. Now he felt like Liam, just Liam, or as Niall called him, Mrs. Zayn Malik.

With a huff at the memory of his best friend taking the piss out of him, he exited the small room and his eyes zeroed in on the bed. Finally, his own bed.

After a quick use of the washroom, he took his cellphone out and sent a customary reached text to his husband, before shutting it off. He planted himself face down on the bed, practically groaning at the memory foam as it hugged his body. Blindly, he reached for Zayn’s pillow and cuddled it close to him, the scent of his husband still a remnant on it.

With a small sigh, he switched onto his side and curled up into a foetal position, before finally drifting off.

***

Light danced across his eyelids and Liam groaned as he absently remembered he forgot to shut the blinds. He fluttered his eyes open carefully, the sunlight almost blinding him and found that he was in the same position he slept in.

With a loud grunt, he shifted onto his back, only to find a dull ache present in his left shoulder and his back. He’d probably have to call his trainer in to check that over before he went back to his weight training.

After an agonizing hour of moving himself around for enough blood flow to ease his pain, he was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, a bowl of oat bran cereal in front of him and his thumb scrolling busily through his twitter mentions.

He chuckled at the few memes, apparently him and Niall were fodder for ‘1d memes’ nowadays, and smiled at the warm yet manic compliments left by his fans.

He exited out of his own twitter page and typed in a name he’s not ashamed to admit that he Googles more than his own. Zayn Malik.

Switching to an update blog on Tumblr, he found a flurry of new pictures of Zayn who was currently in Milan attending a Louis Vuitton show. His husband was holding several poses, dressed in a sleek, aubergine-coloured tux with black trims, shiny black shoes and hair an artful mess of inky black.

In each picture, Zayn held a similar pose, the achingly familiar smoulder and the mandala-covered hand on the lapel of his suit jacket. Liam’s heart threatened to burst with affection as he scrolled through more pictures of his husband, in every angle possible. God, but he was beautiful. And God, did Liam miss him terribly.

He also longed to see the familiar black ring on the left hand, right above the mandala tattoo. The same ring that he had purchased back in 2013, with the help of his and Zayn’s sisters. The same ring he had then presented to Zayn with a tear-filled speech that neither of them could get through.

But there was no use longing for something that was well far off in their future. He heaved a huge sigh and shoveled the last few spoonfuls of his breakfast, dropping the bowl in the sink to wash later.

He looked around the lonesome flat, figuring out what to do. The comics on the coffee table looked inviting so headed over to pick a few up.

Evening approached quickly and Liam found himself utterly bored and surrounded by crumpled up white papers. Lyrics scrawled down and scratched over, a funny looking doodle that was supposed to be Watson and Loki playing in the grass and just Zayn’s name signed over and over again.

The flat now looked a bit of a mess; the couch was obviously stained with a large yellow spot from where he had accidentally spilled some beer earlier in the day. His crumpled up papers littered the living room floor and a few reached across to the entrance of his bedroom, from where he had lobbed it in frustration, when lyrics and melodies escaped him.

He was pretty sure there were dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink and a flurry of crumbs on the kitchen floor and counter from when he had dropped the box of cereal clumsily. He’d mostly cleaned it up but there were still some obvious signs of trauma.

His dirty clothes from the airport were lying half in and out of the laundry basket and their washroom a mess from when Liam took an hour long hot shower without bothering to clean up the steam stained windows of their shower.

So he was a bit of a mess, but his husband’s absence was getting to him. He couldn’t even call him because he didn’t want to bother Zayn and worry him with the fact that he couldn’t even handle a few weeks alone.

Thick scruff was now growing freely over his jaw and he hadn’t changed into any proper clothes for two days now. He was still in the same pajamas and shirt that he threw on after the shower yesterday.

Liam thought of a way to pass the time when a framed picture of a family on the far left wall in the room caught his eye. He grinned widely, jaw cracking due to lack of use.

He checked the time and it was just past dinner in the UK so he whipped his phone out and dialed Safaa on Skype.

It was answered quickly as a familiar wide grin filled the screen and a screeching “Bhai!” from none other than Walihya.

Liam grinned, “Hi monster, what are you doing on your sister’s cell?”

Walihya only switched to a smug grin, “I got to it first so I get to talk to you first.”

“Alright, smart arse, how’s it going there? You get the contract yet?”

His sister-in-law bit her lip nervously before answering, “No, but I’m scared I’m not gonna get it.”

Liam scoffed, if there was someone as persistent as her on a project, it would surely get done. He told her so and watched in amusement as she blushed lightly and switched back to her scream-talking.

But soon a scuffle broke out and Liam could make out heated girlish whispers as the phone jerked around violently before a sweet smile on a serene face greeted him. His little one.

“Hi Saf,” Liam all but cooed at her and watched her scrunch her nose up, just like her brother.

Safaa giggled, “I’m not 8 anymore, Bhai. You still greet me like I’m a child.”

“You are a child! You’re my itty bitty little widdle cuddle monster.” He teased her relentlessly, enjoying the sweet smile morph into a more sarcastic and deadpan look. She looked every bit as unimpressed as Zayn does when Liam wants him to wash his own socks.

“Excuse you, I’m a teenager!”

“Yeah, only sixteen!”

“Yeah, and sixteen is pretty grown up.” Safaa looked smug as she stated.

Liam laughed, “Is it really? So tell me, O wise one, what all can you do at sixteen?”

She put on a mischievous smile, “Didn’t Bhaiyya fall in love with you at sixteen?”

Liam sobered up, “Safaa, don’t go looking for that now, you’re way too young!”

But the little shit grinned widely still, “Oh so now I’m too young for this when you two were probably off shagging at – “

“Safaa!” A shout resounded from behind her and she instantly cringed as the phone was passed and Trisha appeared on the screen beside her.

A small, “Sorry, Mum” was quickly whispered as she scampered somewhere off screen, probably to her bedroom to sulk in shame. Liam felt guilty for teasing, she was a sensitive one, his Safaa, and he didn’t want to see her shamefaced like that.

He quickly greeted his mother-in-law who was smiling gently at him before he addressed the issue of his youngest sister-in-law.

With a tinkling laugh and a hand wave, his protests soon died down as she continued, “Don’t worry, darling, she’s the spoilt one, you and Zayn never let me or Yaser scold her.”

He relaxed as their conversation soon took a turn towards Liam being alone and Trisha tutted quietly at his dejected expression.

“Do you want to catch a quick one over to Bradford, jaan? You can keep us company until Zayn is done.” She offered gently, an invitation that made him feel warm in his gut and a strong sense of belonging in his veins.

He thanked her but rejected the invitation politely, he wanted to stay here and wait until his husband came back. Besides, Zayn was supposed to be here in two days.

Soon, he was hearing lectures on his unkempt appearance that he accepted with a winning grin, all the while wondering if she’d faint at the sight of the flat.

After a while, he was saying his goodbyes, a whispered, “Bye, Maa, love you” that made Trisha’s eyes shine suspiciously with tears.

The sight made him miss his own parents, who were barely a call away for Liam but he didn’t want to disturb their time at Ruth’s house, where they were probably busy doting over Ashton.

He slumped down onto their cream coloured couch, appreciating the feeling of drowning in the cushions before his stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

With a pained groan, he heaved himself up off the couch, rubbing a hand at his sore back, and made his way towards the refrigerator.

Expecting a mostly empty fridge with suspiciously old take-out food, he pulled it open and gaped in surprise at the number of Tupperware containers.

He took one container out and edged it open, sniffing at the contents and smiled surprisingly at discovering it was Zayn’s homemade Karahi chicken.

He excitedly ducked back into the fridge to find a wrapped package that turned out to be naan and moved towards the stove where he hurriedly heated everything up.

Soon, he was sat on their couch in the living room, tearing up at the taste of the familiar food. God, now he was crying over a plate of Karahi chicken. But he couldn’t help it; he missed his husband too much.

***

Liam was about to burst into tears; he was currently sat on the carpeted floor with crossed legs, facing the flat’s main door. A blanket, which Zayn favoured during cold nights, was draped over him, covering his head, shoulders and arms, pooling out onto the floor around him.

In his right hand, he clutched a well-worn shirt of Zayn’s , which used to belong to Liam but didn’t fit him anymore. In his left hand, he gripped at his cellphone, willing it to ring so that Zayn could inform him that he’d landed. He took turns every few minutes, alternating between smelling the shirt and checking his cellphone.

All he had gotten was a “On my way to the airport :)” text and in the next few hours Liam had worn a dent into their lovely carpet and had messed up the flat some more. He was pretty sure his bottom lip was threatening to wobble at this point.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he heard an electronic beep come from the door, as the red light on the door turned to green and door knob jiggled and twisted.

An excited yelp left Liam as he sat up straight, eyes wide and trained on the door as it swung open to reveal a tired but beautiful Zayn. His head faced the floor as he edged his way in, a bag on his shoulder swaying heavily that he dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

But he soon looked up and stopped short in his tracks, mouth agape at the sight of Liam on the carpet.

For some reason, Liam didn’t have the energy to get up to greet his husband because his limbs weren’t cooperating, so he stayed on the floor and continued to stare hungrily at his husband, seeing him after so long.

Zayn finally snapped out of his shock and moved towards his husband, a concerned expression evident on his face. He kneeled down in front of Liam and cupped his cheeks before whispering, “Liam, you okay, jaan?”

But Liam only made a noise that sounded a lot like ‘meep!’ and leaned into Zayn’s touch heavily, his eyes closing at the touch.

A dozen thoughts whirled through Zayn’s mind, almost all of them concerned and worried for his husband, as he stood up again, heart wrenching at the noise Liam made at the loss of touch. He reached down to hook his arms under his husband’s armpits and pulled him up and with a bit of difficulty, Liam was upright but swaying dangerously.

He nuzzled sweetly into Zayn’s neck, who accepted the warm touch but continued working to get Liam to the bedroom. It was only when he stepped aside that Zayn got a view of the flat.

It looked like Loki had run through it without supervision. The little hyper dog was privy to such behaviour which is why they only isolated him to their LA mansion or his in-laws’ house in London.

Now, Zayn gaped at the mess, couch cushions thrown on the floor, days-old dishes lining the kitchen counter and what looked like a trail of dirty clothes leading up to their bedroom.

What in the world, how did this - ?

He turned his head slightly to look at his husband who was now endearingly staring back with a dreamy expression. Liam blinked slowly at him, his eyes looking unfocused and feverish but a beautiful smile graced his soft features.

Oh no, thought Zayn as he realized he had found the culprit at last. Liam James Malik (as of 2014) was the one who had made an absolute shit of a mess of their flat, their house.

Zayn groaned internally at the sight but his worry for his husband overwhelmed any other thoughts. He needed to sort Liam out first.

Avoiding the mix of clothes and crumpled papers on the floor, he led Liam to their bedroom, kicking aside the mess to avoid either of them stumbling. He pushed Liam towards the washroom, tutting at the sight, and undressed himself before doing the same to his husband.

Liam realized in his half-sleep daze, that he was being undressed by a very naked Zayn. He giggled and patted his husband’s cheek limply before slurring out, “I like where this is going.”

Zayn huffed at him, before he bent down to slip Liam’s joggers off, before quickly leaning over and turning the hot water tap on. He gently guided Liam towards the spray who hooted adorably at the feeling of hot water touching his skin, before joining him in the spacious shower.

What was supposed to be a quick wash and rinse became a battle of limbs as Zayn continuously batted of Liam’s wandering hands and groping fingers that frankly made him blush a little. After a soapy victory, he rinsed himself and Liam off, before reaching out for the towel on the handle bar – only to find it used and slopped over near the laundry basket.

He groaned under his breath, and awkwardly hobbled his way towards their linen closet (something his mother absolutely insisted on them having) and blindingly grabbed a few towels for him and Liam.

When he went back to the washroom, he was greeted to the most adorable sight of Liam, sopping wet with hair dripping on his forehead, body leaning against the wall of the shower, seemingly asleep.

Zayn laughed gently before draping Liam with soft, fluffy towels, drying him with gentle touches and loving pecks all over his face.

Deciding to forego clothes, it was only the two of them, he all but dropped Liam onto their bed, who bounced comically once and twice on his front before going still, breathing deeply.

It was only now that Zayn finally looked around and was reminded of the mess Liam made. God, and he was the slob?

A quick text to for housekeeping to visit them the next afternoon, he too dropped heavily onto the bed, the exhaustion from the flight and taking care of Liam getting to him. Throwing a careless arm over Liam’s waist, he murmured a quiet, “Love you, jaan” (a goodnight tradition they insisted on since being married) and buried his face into a pillow, falling fast asleep.

Clearly Zayn was underestimating just how grateful Liam was for taking care of him and his mess, as he lay staring at the ceiling, panting heavily in the aftermath of his husband waking him up with a phenomenal blowjob. His husband lay smugly beside him before he bounded up towards the washroom, all too excited to start the day.

Zayn laughed a little hysterically before chasing Liam into the shower, intent on finishing what his husband started.

It was nearing noon in New York as deliciously golden rays of sunlight splashed across the floor of their living room. It bounced off the glass of the coffee table and lit up the hints of yellow in Zayn’s eyes. Liam stared intently at him, taking in the light scruff littering a delicate yet strong jaw, nose ring glinting in the sunlight, and eyelashes fluttering prettily as he looked down at his art pad on which he scribbled and scratched distractedly.

He sighed as he continued admiring his husband’s beauty, hands and arms artfully decorated with carefully chosen tattoos. The black ring sat snugly on his ring finger on the left hand, complementing the mandala. He was wearing a shirt that belonged to Liam, the neck of which was stretched out due to years of use and loose Batman boxers that were a gag gift from Niall on Liam’s 20th birthday.

Joke’s on you, Niall, he wore the shit out of them.

Zayn continued sketching oblivious to Liam’s staring, a fact Liam loved about him; whenever Zayn sat down to sketch something, anything, he was always so absorbed in his activity that he often forgot that he was maybe sat in a radio show where he was supposed to participate in an interview or even at Ashton’s Christening where he had sat for hours in front of the baby’s crib, sketching out the soft features.

Finally, Liam urged his body to move, his need to be close to Zayn overriding any other thought. He crossed the span of the living room in long strides before dropping to his knees, ignoring the little jolt Zayn gave as he finally noticed Liam.

Before he could figure out what Liam was doing, his husband lifted the loose shirt gently before unceremoniously shoving his face under it.

Zayn jumped at the sudden move, gawking at the round shape of Liam’s head under his shirt.

Okay, he had finally lost it, his darling, beautiful, intelligent husband had gone off the –

But Zayn’s internal ramblings all ground to a halt, as he felt soft lips reverently kissing the skin on his stomach, and strong, tattooed arms wound around his waist to grip possessively and hold him in place. Liam breathed in deeply as Zayn sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed.

When a minute passed and Liam’s breath stuttered as he felt those lips purse and tremble dangerously against him, Zayn laid a careful hand on his husband’s shirt covered head.

A mumbled ‘Missed you’ on his skin didn’t go unnoticed by Zayn as he finally relaxed, letting Liam do what he had to, to deal with the unnecessarily constant and painful distances between them. He hummed lightly, cherishing the feeling of lips quirked into a smile as Liam felt more than heard the vibrations of Zayn’s voice.

Yeah, he was gonna be fine now.

#ziam #fanfiction #my fic #ziamfanfiction

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