“Zayn, stop it.”
Liam had been asleep. Liam had been deeply asleep. But ever since he’d come home after getting his hair cut off, a certain someone couldn’t keep their hands off it.
He cracked one eye open, letting it adjust to the the inky darkness of their hotel room, before opening the other. Zayn lay on his side, facing him, his hand rubbing over the top of Liam’s head. And he was fucking beaming.
“I can’t.” Zayn admitted, unrepentant. “It’s so soft. Like a fur blanket on top of your head.”
Liam grunted, tilting his head into the touch while glancing over Zayn at the clock on the nightstand. It read…
“Jesus. Zayn. it’s almost four in the morning.” He huffed, snuggling back down. “You’re a menace.”
Zayn snorted. “Remember when I put my nose piercing back in? And you poked it for 2 days straight? Fuckin’ deal, babe.”
