"G'morning Harry," he smiles sheepishly and I kiss his cheek, my arms enveloping him.

"Hi sleepyhead," I ruffle his soft jet black hair and he yawns.

"I wake up really early on weekdays, give me a break."

"Hate to say this but tomorrow is Monday."

"No no no," he cups his hands over his ears and I chuckle, realizing how different he is outside of school. He's goofy and relaxed and...perfect. "Can't we go back to bed babe?"

"I guess so. I told my mum I've been spending the weekend with the lads. Speaking of which, how is Trisha?"

"She got released from the hospital but she doesn't know if she wants to go through with chemotherapy. What if it isn't worth the risk? I'd be putting a lot at stake financially and I can't even rest assured it would pay off."

I nod, listening intently and decide to be completely honest with him.

"I think she's going to make a miraculous recovery and that obviously you should care but don't lose too much sleep over her condition."

"How do you know Harry?"

"I don't know anything for sure Zayn, I just have a feeling. Don't be so glum. Cheer up."

I attempt to tug the corners of his lips upward into a smile but it's futile and he rolls over with a frown on his face.

"you have grown

like roots

around my ribcage,

sprouting flowers

beneath my collarbone

and planting seeds

inside my heart"

"Harry," he murmurs.

"Look at me Zayn."

He flips over, a tiny smile splaying across his face.

"There it is," I sigh​ contently.

"What?"

"The smile that encouraged the stars to climb up into the sky."

i moan

as he tugs

gently

at my curls

his tongue

dancing

the tango

with mine

bare chests

pressing together

my hands sliding

over his shoulder

blades, fingers

pressing

to his spine

My lips capture his and my mind blanks. How are his lips so soft?

So soft and gentle.

s

o

s

o

f

t

His fingers trail over my stomach, his mouth pressing against the sensitive patch of skin beneath my navel. I shiver as his tongue flicks across my stomach, my fingers threading through his hair. My body ruts against his, a moan falling from my mouth.

lips skimming

my collarbone

tounge dragging

along my flesh

nipping at

copy paper white

skin, sucking

hard enough

to leave a bruise

"Could get off just from the sounds you make," he murmurs and my head falls to the pillow with a thud, suddenly heavy but empty all at once. "Can we make music?"

I nod, only partially aware that Zayn just asked if we could make love.

My hips thrust upward ever so slightly but he reaches for my hips, his thumb grazing over my skin. His hand slips between my legs and I whimper as his fingers wrap around my length.

"You're precious Harry."

He presses a kiss to the corner of my lips and reaches for something on his nightstand. I make an effort to lift my head and sneak a peak. I feel so needy as I grip at his biceps, tugging him back between my legs. He kisses me briefly before liberally coating his fingers with lube.

"You okay love?"

"Never been better."

He smiles, his hand slipping between my legs.

"I...I've never done this," he admits shyly. "I always bottomed with Mason. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," I assure. "I'm telling you it's okay Zayn. I need this."

"Me too," he replies softly, lust swirling in his eyes.

He presses a finger inside of me and my body clenches, a moan passing my lips. My breath gets caught in my throat as a second finger glides in. Before I realize what's happening, I'm stroking myself slowly to alleviate the friction.

"Hey," he whispers. "I want to make you feel good," and he pouts so pitifully my hand stills.

My hips push down on his fingers, my cock straining again my chest. I'm undeniably hard, pre-come leaking from the tip.

He slides in a third finger and I whimper, my body going limp.

"Are you even real?"

In the moment I'm not even sure.

"So so beautiful."

His wrist twists, his fingers delving in deeper and my back arches off the bed.

a touch of skin

soft but slippery

with just a hint

of sweat

two pairs of eyes

meeting,

holding an intense gaze

for just a brief moment

abandoning

all uncertainties

heated tongues

twirling,

met in the midst

of staggered

shallow breaths

and small pants,

our slow rhythm

giving way

to demands

and thrusts

of passion

my body arching

as I moan

until oblivion

and you

say my name

deeply

from the back

of your throat

making

my heart

snag

He slides his finger out, ripping open a condom packet hungrily.

"Want you so bad," the words

t

u

m

b

l

e

from my mouth

His fingers tremble as he slides it on, steadily positioning himself. I nod, giving him confirmation and he slowly thrusts in.

The sensation is so unfamiliar and painfully uncomfortable tears well at my eyes. My teeth sink into my bottom lip and his hand strokes at my forehead, pushing back some misplaced curls.

"We can stop. I don't want to hurt you, I-"

"Please," I beg. "Move."

So he does, bottoming out, his hips pressing against the back of my thighs. My mouth falls open in a silent moan.

He pulls out before thrusting back in, hard and fast. A thin sheen of sweat glistens at my hairline and my curls spill over my eyes.

"Wanna see you," he brushes my hair back and his lips skim over every inch of my body. When they find the side of my throat my pulse quickens and my nails dig into his arms, meeting every one of his deliberate thrusts.

He hits a bundle of nerves and I feel myself unhinging.

"Z-zayn, I'm close," I stammer, my eyelids squeezing shut. "Make music out of me, make music out of me, make music," I chant.

And there is music, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy, shallow breathing echoing off the walls. Moans and pants and mindless whispers

So good, so good, right there

I mutter his name again, a string of curse words falling from my lips.

"Don't come yet. Hold it there babe." He pulls back slightly and commands me to touch myself.

I wrap a hand around my cock and begin to stroke myself.

a fermata...

He grabs my hips, lifting them off the bed and pushing back inside of me, driving impossibly deeper than before. My mind goes blank and his movements grow lazy.

right before

the grand

crescendo

A filthy moan escapes my lips and I spill all over which is enough to make him come with me.

He discards the condom and I roll over, wrapping my arms around him. His fingers stroke my scalp, my eyelids fluttering closed.

"Your body sang for me," he murmurs "and it was beautiful."