#zook

only when a cold drop of his blue moon ice cream melts onto his hand does he pay attention to something other than you - or rather, your tongue. you know he's staring, and you have a hunch as to why you got those sky blue eyes focused on your lips. just to be sure, you lean further back into your sun lounger, fix him with a small grin before having another lap at the ice cream. it's almost down to the cone, and when you turn it to get the other side even as well, his eyebrows furrow upon seeing the groove again.

yeah. you know why.

"i have a tongue piercing."

your words rip zook from his slight trance, and he visibly shakes out his shoulders before squaring them up. when the fact registers in his brain and you stick out your tongue to show the piercing off, however, his thoughts drift very, very far away from finishing his ice cream.

"you- uhm, oh?" he wants to say something smart, retort with some little quip, but his brain is too scrambled with the images it supplies him with. all of them as far away from platonic as can be. and you're aware.

"yeah, got it a few months back when you were gone for that training camp. it got boring quickly when i didn't have my best friend with me," you muse, tilt your head, take a bite of the waffle. when some melted ice cream threatens to drip down to your chin, you quickly flick out your tongue to catch it - and this time, zook can see the hint of silver that peeks out. fuck. you actually do have a fucking tongue piercing.

and before zook can hold back the question, one that no matter how comfortable you are with each other as friends might cross a boundary (not like he hadn't thought about you in a less innocent way before), it slips.

"what does it feel like?" you take the last bite, audibly crunching the waffle, and fix him with raised eyebrows and a slowly widening smile that has his breath hitch.

"what, making out?" zook nods dumbly. you laugh. and considering that his pupils are blown out, chest rising and falling a little faster than before, you take a small risk. he surely won't mind, will he?

"wanna find out?"

he must be dreaming. either this, or he died during that one tackle a few days ago during training and is in heaven. maybe he's in a coma and it tortures him by showing what the future could've held in store for him? zook shakes himself out of his stupor once more, swallows his last bite of ice cream and almost coughs when he realises he didn't chew it enough. his voice cracks slightly when he replies after an awkward few seconds.

"i- i mean i won't say no?" your grin deepens and you scooch back until you hit the backrest of the lounger, curl a finger and motion for him to crawl over to you. he gulps.

"come here, then."

"like, straddle you? or-" he yelps quietly when you sigh in exasperation and pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he barely catches himself before fully crashing into you. one palm by your head, one by your waist, noses almost close enough to brush. definitely close enough for him to exhale shakily when your hot breath brushes his lips.

"we've been friends for years, zook, we've seen each other naked-"

"on accident! i swear!" you laugh.

"-we'll be alright with some... demonstrations." he blinks down at you, reluctant still - if he starts kissing you now, he probably won't be able to stop - but he ultimately adjusts his position so he can straddle you more comfortably.

"you really sure?"

"very much so. are you?" zook nods, eyes slipping from yours to your lips.

"yeah." a small pause. "can i just-"

you roll your eyes playfully, and with a firm hand in the back of his neck, you pull him down and into a kiss. a gasp leaves him when your soft lips press against his, and you use the chance to tilt your head so you can deepen it. when zook finally catches himself and kisses back, a moan breaks in the back of your throat, lips moving against his almost lazily.

the moment you lick at his bottom lip for entrance, hook the tip of your tongue behind his front teeth to make him let out a guttural groan and tangle it with his, any and all thought that wasn't about you flies from his mind. the quiet clink of the metal ball against his teeth drives him almost mad with want, and he can't help but give into his desires.

"fuck," he mutters into the kiss, a curse you gladly swallow and respond to with a breathless chuckle, and zook lowers his body enough to meet your hip with his own, to tangle one hand in your hair so he can keep you as close as you already are. even closer.

"feel good?" your voice breaks when he huffs out a breath and dives in once more, nudges your nose aside with his so he can take the breath from your lungs, feel the piercing against his tongue again. it's way too addicting for him to stop at just one taste, so he needs more, takes more, doesn't care when your fingers brush through his hair and tug because it simply gets him closer.

drool gathers in the corner of your mouth, too preoccupied to swallow it down when zook keeps pushing his lips against yours in desperation, letting out unabashed and unfiltered sounds of pleasure that echo through the small garden - sounds that make your hips buck up because shit, he feels incredible on top of you, kissing you this messily and almost clumsily in his need for you. as if you're the only thing tethering him to this world.

hell, you might just be right this moment.

at that move, zook grinds down in reply, the obvious bulge in his shorts hitting your clothed core just right and making you moan loudly, albeit muffled by his lips. he uses the chance to slot his tongue against yours, laps at the metal decorating it, disregarding completely that his lungs are screaming to get air pushed into them. so when he finally does separate from you, a string of spit connects the tips of your tongues, breaks when he groans at the fucked out look in your eyes, staring up at him all droopy and satisfied.

you keep his stare are you try to get your breathing back in check, calm your frantic heartbeat that you're sure zook can almost hear. he isn't any better, even if he's the athletic one out of the two of you - but anything regarding you always had him a little short of breath. naturally, making out with you this desperately is much better than what he imagined it would be, and it only serves to make his heart skip another beat.

it's quiet for a few moments, until he tilts his head ever so slightly in question.

"continue inside?"

"definitely."

author's note: i love this pretty little himbo-

stay safe and healthy <3