Sunday mornings should be spent doing a whole lotta nothing. It was your favorite time of the week. Partly because it was when you felt the most relaxed. But mostly because it usually consisted of Liam on your couch nursing a hangover. 

And today was no different.

You’d been curled up half watching some old City match that Liam swore he’d been at when his head had fallen onto your shoulder. He was out cold, mouth slightly open. 

You could smell your shampoo in his hair, the expensive one that he promised not to use anymore but still nicked anyways. “I’ll just buy ya more babe, I’m loaded y’know?” was always his excuse whenever you told him off for it. But secretly you liked that rock’s hardest frontman walked around smelling like florals and coconut. 

Your hand dropped into his mop of hair and he shifted against you, turning further into your side like he was settling in properly. A small smile tugged at your lips as you played with the silky strands. Always so soft. You didn’t know how, with all the sweating that boy did.

At some point your arm started to fall asleep so you carefully adjusted him until his head rested against your chest instead. The rest of him followed, warm and heavy against the front of your body. Your legs parted slightly to make room for him, and the two of you stayed like that until he started to stir again. 

His lashes fluttered open as he let out a yawn.

“Well hello sleepyhead,” you said softly, smiling at the droopiness of his eyes as he blinked up at you. 

It took him a moment to properly wake up. Then a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Don’t make a bad pillow, these,” he mumbled, tilting his head back further into your chest and squashing your breasts.

You laughed under your breath, hand moving to cup his jaw. Your thumb brushed over the rough stubble there and he leant into the touch.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you teased.

“Best sleep of me life,” he said dramatically. “Proper well rested now.”

You smiled fondly as he settled back against your chest. For a moment it was quiet as he got comfortable again. Your hand rested on his side, fingers absently playing with his shirt.

You hooked your leg over his, bringing him closer into your body. Liam would never admit it, but secretly he loved cuddling. Every night he would turn on his side and pull you snug to his chest, sighing contentedly as you tucked your head against him. He was always coming up behind you in the kitchen and hooking his head over your shoulder as his hands circled your waist. You loved that about him. That deep down he was just a soft lad who wanted love just like the rest of you. 

Stirred by a sudden surge of love for him, your hand snaked down the front of his sweats, coming to cup his length through the fabric.

Liam jolted against you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he uttered, momentarily startled.

Then he settled back against you as you began palming at him, hips shifting. You smirked as he began to harden under your touch.

“Comfortable?” You asked, a teasing edge to your voice.

“Definitely,” he breathed out, head leaning further back into you

You huffed a small laugh, applying more pressure and relishing the sigh that escaped his mouth. He tried to turn to face you but you applied pressure with your leg, effectively pinning him there. 

“Let me,” you whispered, hand reaching for the tie of his sweats.

He exhaled shakily and turned his head to stare at you with pale blue eyes. A small smile played on his lips like he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with you.

You couldn’t resist leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips, one that he chased as you pulled back.

You watched as his eyes fluttered as your hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats. He wasn’t wearing underwear but of course he wouldn’t be.

Liam’s mouth fell slightly open as he leaned back against your chest, hips grinding up against your hand. 

You lightly ran the heel of your palm up and down his length, teasing him as he shifted beneath you. Really you were just taking a moment to appreciate the feel of him. The heat. The hardness. The smoothness of his skin.

You paused near the head of his cock and began applying pressure to the sensitive tip with small circles.

“Christ,” he groaned, hips twitching up helplessly. You kept the motion up while your other hand snaked down beside the other, squeezing his balls gently.

He let out a gasp that was edged with a moan, but then you began massaging him in time with your strokes and he was gone. 

A low sound escaped him as he shivered with pleasure. His hand moved to grip your leg like he needed to steady himself with something. 

“Fuck…yes,” he groaned, hips moving against your rhythm as he really got into it. 

“So good Li,” you murmured, gently praising him.

He hummed out something high pitched and twitched against your palm, evidently liking it. You pulled a hand out and spat roughly in it. He shivered in response, like he was anticipating what you were about to do. 

You returned to his length that was now resting rock hard against his stomach and began slicking him up. He throbbed hot in your touch as you encircled both hands around him. You slowly began stroking up and down, letting him savor the feeling. 

His face was flushed pink, eyes screwed up in pleasure. So good-looking. Always. 

“Look so pretty like this,” you said, hands slowing their pace. 

He turned his head, staring at you with hooded eyes.

“Prettiest boy I know,” you said, softer this time, watching as a half smile appeared on his face.

You bent your head to meet his lips, tongue immediately sliding into his mouth. He opened his mouth further to you with a groan, his own tongue flicking against yours. 

Your hands began moving again, this time twisting your wrists in tandem as you began pumping him. 

A moan was pulled from somewhere deep inside of him, lips stuttering as his body flooded with pleasure.

You took his bottom lip between your teeth and bit gently as you picked up the pace. His body slumped against yours, his mouth slowly falling away from you. 

His eyes fluttered shut again, moans spilling from his mouth as you pushed him higher and higher with each stroke.

“That’s it just like that baby,” you coaxed, squeezing just a bit tighter. 

“Fuck,” he stuttered out, fingers digging into your leg as he began to shake in your grip.

A bead of pre-cum slid from his tip to join the mess of spit that was making an obscenely slick noise. 

A small whine escaped him as his thighs tensed in preparation for what was coming. He was like putty in your hands, head pitched completely back, baring his neck to you. You wished you could reach it to tease the sensitive spot right behind his jaw.

Suddenly his body arched off your chest and his hips shot forward as he came hard, fucking your fists desperately.

You pumped him through it as he spilled and spilled between your fingers. His hips slowed steadily as he came back down to earth, muscles untensing. 

“Christ,” he breathed out, dazed and sated.

You gave one last squeeze, coaxing out the very last drop from his tip as he winced softly.

“That was fucking amazing,” he breathed, tilting his head back to look at you through his lashes.

“You’re just saying that so I’ll do it again,” you teased, reaching for a tissue to wipe his spunk from your hand. 

“Promise?” he asked, giving you a big goofy grin when you turned your eyes on him.

You laughed fondly and turned into him, tugging him into you as you pressed kisses onto his face.