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Harry isn't very surprised to be waking up at nearly three in the morning to have a wee. Being nearly twenty seven weeks pregnant can take a toll on your bladder, or so he's been told. He wouldn't know- not really, considering this is his first baby.
When Harry had surprised them with the news, everyone had gathered around in Liam and his' cozy flat for a relaxing Sunday brunch. Zayn, Ant and Perrie were chatting amicably about something (if Harry was for betting, he'd figure they were talking about Zayn's latest art exhibit) while Jesy was pouting at them, full force. Niall was checking on the food with Liam, Danny and Louis was busy fixing the shitty TV, all while Leigh and Jade yell encouragements. (Harry's still not betting, but he's strongly inclined to think it's because of the Derby - Rotherham match. While none of them are fans of Derby per se, they're all very supportive for Niall's sake.) He let his secret out after, when his second family had settled down on the couch to watch the game. The reactions were a mix- from screams of joy from Jesy and Perrie to shocked little gasps from Zayn, Niall and Louis. Liam's face had gone hard for a moment, a fleeting expression that Harry had brushed off as shock. They kissed, of course, to please everyone. Later that night Liam had asked Harry all about it. He nodded when Harry had finished and kissed him again, eyes shining and chest swelled, finally appreciating the fact that he and Harry had created a fetus that would become the sweetest, handsomest baby. They fell asleep entangled in one another, cooing over their would-be baby.
No, Harry isn't very surprised at all to be waddling to the toilet-- one hand on his stomach, an unconscious gesture on his part but a steadying move all the same, and the other on the wall, feeling for the door to the bathroom. He makes it there without pissing over himself (a feat that he is in fact proud of, considering the last time he woke up this early he ended up 'watering' his favorite plant and howled so loud that Niall had stormed all the way up to their place to ask if he was being murdered) and does his business quickly, washing his hands after. As he's patting his hands dry, there's a soft murmur and Harry would have brushed it off it were not for the noise at the end.
Now, he's not prone to eavesdropping, but Harry knows what the sound is and it makes his neglected cock twitch in his pants. It's a noise he hasn't heard in a while, for the baby's sake. 'Haz, it's a bit weird, don't you think? I don't want our baby's first impression of his Daddy to be that I'm a fucking pervert.'The twenty year old's lips pull down into a pout and he makes his way to Liam's room (really, it's usually a guest room but Liam's been acting weird all week and sleeping without Harry. Harry tries not to feel offended.) stopping himself just before he swings the door open and tries to have his way with Liam. Insecurity plagues Harry's mind. The moaning is getting louder.
What if he's interrupting some important 'self-love' time? What if Liam's just writing the rest of his essay that's due tomorrow? A voice he doesn't recognize whispers in his head, or what if he's cheating on you? Fucking another pretty twink into the bed slowly while he thinks you're asleep?
It's enough to swing open Liam's door, ready to slam the other man's head into the wall. Instead, all Harry sees is Liam. Just Liam, cock in hand, come drying on his chest. Liam, fingers tucked into himself, as he says I love you too Zayn.
"Oh."
"Shit."
----
Liam's hard. There's no way else to say it. He's hard, so sexually frustrated to the point that all that's needed is a strong breeze blowing in the right direction. Fuck. He feels like he's seventeen again, finally learning about the perks of having orgasms and proceeding to have ten a day until he realizes it's exhausting to be so horny all the time. He never knows what to do in this situation, plus he feels too guilty about knocking Harry up that touching him makes him feel physically sick. Only a little bit, though.
He checks to make sure his door is locked, then feels bad and unlocks it slowly. After confirming that the coast was clear, Liam settles back on his bed, on top of the covers and naked. He's dialing Zayn before he can think too much about it.
" 'lo?" The voice at the end sounds gruff and slightly annoyed. Liam checks his clock and -- oh.
"Sorry to bother," Liam mumbles, pressing the heel of his palm against his abdomen. "Was wondering if you were busy, b't 'bviously you are." He chuckles nervously. "Sorry mate."
Zayn, bless him, knows. Always has, that one."Y're hard, aren't you?" Silence is his response and Zayn laughs quietly. There's some rustling and Liam can imagine him struggling to sit up, still sleep oriented. He feels a flutter in his heart, can convince himself for the time being that it's just his dick vying for his attention.
"A li'l bit, yeah. C'n y'.. Please, Zayn. Dunno what to do."
Then, Liam's being cooed at and he huffs because damn it; he might be a needy twenty one year old with an aching erection but he's a twenty one year old man, damn it. Twenty one year olds don't get cooed at. "Y' can fuck right off." He doesn't really mean that, obviously. He just needs a comeback or he'd feel like Louis would find out and slap him upside the head for letting the piss get taken out of him.
"Thought you're the one who called me? Wouldn't very well help y'r situation..."
"Shut up and help me." He has his eyes closed, one hand grabbing the base of his semi-- it's only flagged a little bit since the start of their conversation, no harm done-- the other gripping his phone tightly.
"What are you wearing?"
"Nothing?"
"Christ, Li." Zayn groans and Liam can hear him spit into his palm. "Are you touching yourself?"
Liam bites his lip. "Just holding myself, n-not doing anything."
"You can stroke yourself, baby. Do you have your lube?"
He nods once, before remembering Zayn can't see him. "Yeah, 've got it besides me."
"Well, squeeze a little bit into your palm yeah? Make it nice and warm and y' can touch y'self."
"Zayn," Liam gasps, wrapping his hand around his cock once more after getting his hand slick. He strokes up and down a few times, letting himself get used to the feeling. His fingers stop at the crown of his dick and he pinches his thumb and index at the tip, jerking in quick little motions as his breathing becomes uneven. "Fuck, please, please talk. Need y' voice, please."
Zayn groans in response to his whines, "Wish I could be there, beautiful boy." Liam hums softly at the nickname. "I'd get you on your knees, wouldn't I? Know y' like that so much. Have y' mouth on my cock, probably even before I manage to push m' pants down my ankles, innit? Always so desperate to have something filling you up." Liam feels like a knife's been shoved into his back, but it doesn't stop him from jerking off faster, whimpering almost pathetically. "Bet Harry doesn't know. He doesn't know how much of a fucking comeslut his boyfriend is, or how much he enjoys being face fucked. Doesn't know how to give it to you like I can. Would you like me to give it to you, Li? Pound you nice and hard into the mattress while your pregnant bitch sleeps peacefully in the room down the hall?"
"No, no he d'esn't." Liam forces his hand off his cock, letting it jerk as he backs away from the brink of orgasm. He clenches the bedsheets instead, swallowing thickly. "Ye', 'd like that so much, Zayn. Would you..." He blushes, twisting his head the opposite way of his phone.
"Gotta use your words, darling. Can't understand you properly if you don't."
"Would y' eat me out? Felt so good when you did before.."
"Oh? What about it felt good? Was it when I fucked your needy little asshole with my tongue or when I fit two fingers in there and spread you open as I slid my tongue in as well?"
"Christ, yes. Both, I need it so much."
"Put some more lube on your fingers, Liam. Wanna hear you open yourself up for me." Zayn's voice drops a few octaves and Liam shivers, quickly drizzling the gel on his hand.
"Done," He breathes out. "Now what?"
"Spread your legs for me, yeah babe? Start with two, know you can take it. Always such a good boy for me. You can put me on speaker if you need to."
Liam does as he's told, welcoming the mild sting of two fingers needily. He adjusts quickly and fucks himself on his fingers a few times. "Feels so good, Zayn. Love when you fuck me." He arches his back, moaning unabashedly.
"Love fucking you," Zayn replies, hand moving on his cock so fast Liam can hear the steady noise of it. "God y're always so tight 'nd responsive for me, innit? Wish I could fuck you all the time, like."
"Soon, just need to tell Harry I don't want him. Want you. Always wanted you, Zayn."
"Fuckin' hell, I'm close babe. Y' sound fucking amazing. Gonna come, yeah? Anyway you want me."
He rolls onto his hands and knees, burying his face into his own shoulder as he starts fucking himself harder, riding his hand as he's curving his fingers up to rub at his prostate. "Want y' to come in me. Wanna get messy with it." He's so close to the edge, feels like he's crying from how good it is. The hand meant for holding him up wraps around his steadily dripping cock, jerking it quickly. He can hear Zayn chanting yesyesyes and so fucking good for me and that's it for him.
Liam rolls onto his back when he comes, shooting up his chest with how hard the orgasm was. He keeps two fingers tucked into himself and grabs his dick to prolong the feeling, letting it brush on the side of uncomfortable oversensitivity. When he's settled down, he lets out a shaky laugh, wriggling around his sheets. He tilts his head towards his phone, somehow miraculously still on the bed and takes a deep breath.
Zayn's voice has gotten soft; Liam knows he's done in, ready to sleep. Right before he clicks end call, he hears Zayn mumble, "I love you, Leemo."
"I love you too, Zaynie." He whispers back. He's only allowed a few moments to soak in his post orgasm bliss before he hears, oh.
Liam looks up startled, at Harry. "Shit."
----
Harry backs away quickly, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Oh, sorry. I just. I thought there was someone else in here. I didn't. Mean to interrupt." He looks like a startled doe, ready to sprint under the headlights of Liam's gaze.
Liam reaches for his pants, slowly pulling them on as he haphazardly wipes the come off his stomach. "Haz, listen. That was. It wasn't what it looked like, okay? Let me explain."
"Oh good, because for a second it looked like you were getting off with Zayn Malik, one of our good, amazing, brilliant friends. That would have been weird, huh?" Yes, Harry understands how hysterical he sounds right now, but he can't help it. Catching your boyfriend of three years having phonesex with another bloke is grounds for sounding hysterical.
"Babe it wasn't like that. I was.. He... He was helping me." Liam frowned and reached out for Harry, quickly remembering where his hands were and grimacing.
"Helping you come? Yeah, I can see that." Harry feels sick, like his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and exploded and he squints away the tears. "Get out." His voice is quiet when he turns away, steadying his stomach with one hand as he leans against the doorframe with the other.
"Harry?"
"GET OUT!" Harry screams, face crumpling as he starts to cry. "I don't fucking care where you go, just get out of my sight."
"Fuck you, Harry." Liam falls silent, storming into his room and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing a packed suitcase from his closet. He grabs his wallet from the dishpan near the door and shoves his feet into a pair of trainers, throwing the door open.
"AND STAY OUT." Harry yells at the empty room, a slammed door as his only response.
He sinks to the floor, curled up on the floor as he lets his body be wracked by sobs.
What the hell am I going to do now?