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Profound Things

This is it, boys, this is war

It was dark, he had wanted it that way. The clock contradicted the scene inside of the flat, half two. The sun would be high in the sky, sinking into his skin regardless of the clouds that were probably hanging in the air. It just felt right for him to sit like this, alone with two shades pulled tight against the windows.

They had met and fell in love behind the scenes, she had been there through it all. He was so grateful to her for doing this, but the demands were becoming to be too much. The pressure was getting to him, he began to wonder what experiencing this as a single, young man would feel like. She was just a dancer, she couldn't possibly know what it felt like to have so many people want something from you.

This was the fight they had last night, a simple question blew into the sky and exploded like a fireworks display.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we hadn't met?" He asked, finding it harmless enough. He wasn't suggesting anything, like she had accused, merely curious at her take on it. He hadn't expected it to kick off, or end, like it did.

"Well if that's how you feel Liam, you can find out what it's like to be single," she spat, leaving him with the harsh sound of a dial tone.

He sighed, sinking deeper underneath the blanket, allowing the couch to almost swallow him whole as if he were loose change. He would disappear, nobody would notice.

The rapping on his door stunned him, he had been ignoring his phone all day, but assuming someone would bother to come knocking would have been presumptuous. He didn't want to answer, he was trying to sulk.

"I know you're in there Liam Payne," her voice bellowed, putting on an angry tone for the sake of winning.

She always won, she was selfish and stubborn, and Liam enabled her.

He threw the blanket off his body with force, prying his frame from between the couch cushions to stumble to unsteady feet, weaving blindly towards the front door. Swinging it open, he came face to top of a brunette head, her eyes looking him over starting from his toes. When her blue eyes met with his, she cringed.

"You look like shit," she smirked, handing him a bag. "I got take away, are you going to let me in or shall I set up a blanket out here in the hall?"

He stepped aside wordlessly, ushering her in with a bow as if she were royalty. They had been mates for years, good mates, so her appearance wasn't a surprise.

Closing the door he squinted when she pulled open the curtains, letting the light pour in.

"Jesus Whit, you could have warned me."

"I won't have you moping like some preteen girl over this."

"Over what?"

"Don't play stupid, you know exactly what."

Word travelled faster than a high speed car chase, one minute things were happening and the next everyone knew about it. He shouldn't have been surprised.

"I'm not moping," he grumbled, throwing himself down on the couch.

She laughed, a sweet laugh that practically sung, sitting down beside him. She began to place various boxes on the coffee table, handing him a plastic fork.

"So the drawn curtains and blanket tomb isn't you moping?"

"Whittier," he somewhat begged, wanting her to drop it.

Shrugging, she dug into the food, putting some silence between them but only briefly.

"What happened?" She asked quietly.

"Are you trying to get me to talk about my feelings?" It was the first joke he had cracked in two days, it felt good. And when she laughed, it felt even better.

"No you dork, I'm just trying to get your side of the story."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What have you heard?"

"You flew off the handle, dumped her," Whittier shrugged again. "You know how it is."

"Well this time that's true, except she dumped me mate."

"Really? That's surprising," she muttered.


"Who would dump you?" She asked, clearing her throat and forcing a smirk. "I mean, you areLiam Payne," she added sarcastically.

"Someone who doesn't find a simple question amusing enough to give me a straight answer," he told her simply, a hint of bitterness sneaking through.

He glanced over at her, noticing her shift almost uncomfortably with her curiosity.

"I don't want to talk about it, Whit."

Holding a hand up, she nodded. "Who cares about that anyway, we've got take away, we can watch a movie. Like I said, I won't allow you to mope."

He smiled, letting it spread across his face like the light spread through the room when she opened the curtains. It went so wide his cheeks hurt, and to anybody else it would have looked fake. But to her, someone who had known him since they were kids, it was genuine.

Her only goal after some nameless face had whispered the latest gossip in her ear, was to make sure that he was okay. And if he wasn't, she wanted to do all she could to cheer him up. Liam had done the same a couple of times, it was something she had always appreciated.

"Can we watch Scarface then?" He asked, a cheeky smile replacing the grateful one.

She sighed, intentionally making it bigger and longer than normal. He knew how much she disliked that movie, she never understood why everyone got such a hard on over it.

"Yes, we can watch fucking Scarface," she relented with a growl, watching him pop up from his seat and place the movie in the DVD player.

"This is going to be great," he said in a pleased manner. "Do you want a drink?"

Nodding, she subtly pushed her food away. She didn't want to eat while someone took a chainsaw to another human being.

He returned with two glasses, as giddy as a child on Christmas morning. There was no pressure with Whittier, he didn't have to worry or be on his best behavior. It was a relief to watch a movie of his choice, not hers. He didn't have to put his arm around her when she sunk into the couch, even though he did. And she didn't complain halfway through that the film was too long, even though she wanted to.

When the credits rolled, Whittier sighed in relief. "Such a good choice Liam."

"Hey, don't bash Scarface. It's a classic."

"A classic bore."

Gasping playfully, he wrapped the arm already slung around her shoulder, over her neck to put her in a headlock. Her giggles urged him to push her face in his chest, using his free hand to tickle her side.

"What did you say?" He asked through his own laugher.

"You heard me!"

"Oh that's it."

Now they were in a full blown wrestling match, limbs flying every which way as they struggled to pin one another down.

He succeeded first, after they had fallen to the floor, looking down on her with a triumphant smirk.

"Do you want to take that back then?" He pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Nibbling on her bottom lip as if she were in deep thought, she shook her head no.

He blinked, not expecting the defiance. He was also not expecting her to wrap her legs around his waist, or for him to lean down and kiss her.

The kiss was innocent enough, a small, gentle touch of their lips. But when her hand snaked out of his grasp, falling into the back of his hair to pull him closer, it set off a reaction. Quickly things became heated, their mouths molding together while his tongue cautiously begged her to let it explore the unknown.

When her fingers traced the hem of his shirt he pulled away. "Not here," he whispered, brushing his own fingers over her cheek.

"Then where?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Running his thumb along her bottom lip, Liam slowly pulled away from her to stand. Holding his hand out, he helped her to her feet, tugging her arm so that she would follow him.

He led them down the hall and towards his bedroom, letting her go when they were inside the safety of it. Looking away for a brief moment when he shut the door, a pinch of nerves hit his stomach, lightening up when their eyes met again.

She was standing in the middle of the room, a few steps from the edge of his bed. Her face was flushed, and her bottom lip was held tightly between her teeth. She looked stunning in the low light peeking through a delicate crack in the curtains.

Opening her mouth a touch, as if she was going to say something, he took that as his cue. He crossed the floor, lips crashing against her own like they needed one another. He heard her gasp in response, taking hold of either side of her neck.

Her own hands tangled in the thin material of his t-shirt, winding the front around her fingers. She was pulling him close again, wanting to melt into him.

Nipping at her top lip, Liam ran one hand along her shoulder, tracing the curve of her side before hooking his arm around her waist. His action gained a pleased noise in response, encouraging him to push his hips up against her own.

That was all she needed, her hands untangling from his shirt to fall down, fumbling with the belt holding his pants up. He hadn't changed since yesterday, opting to sleep in his jeans, though that was of no concern to Whittier.

A faint sound signaled its undoing, her fingers brushing over the zipper and button only to be stopped by his own. This had to last, he had waited so long.

He let his fingers melt along her arms like sugar in water, sending a shiver down her spine. Her lips parted to let a breath slip out, only to be caught in another kiss.

They savored it, slowly inching back towards his bed, stopping when her knees hit the edge. Pulling apart, Liam gazed down at her, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He rid his skin of the material, tossing it to the floor as he smirked. He brushed his hands over either shoulder, Whittier taking this as a sign for her to sit down. Stopping her just short, he swiftly spun them, taking her place on the edge of the bed.

She felt her cheeks flush as his eyes explored every inch, contemplating what he was going to do to her next, and for hours after that.

He made his move, pulling her shirt away like it was nothing, but took his time with the lower half. He unbuttoned and unzipped with care, running his hands over her hips. A low, primal growl came from his throat when he hooked his thumbs underneath the waist band, peeling the material away and letting it pool at her ankles.

Placing her hands on either shoulder Whittier stepped out of the garment, chewing on her bottom lip in anticipation.

"You're beautiful," he muttered, tracing the line of muscle above her belly button.

He leaned forward, replacing fingers with his mouth, both hands running over her backside. This action got her to jump in surprise, melting again though at the feel of his lips, hot against her skin.

Tugging her forward, she fell into his lap, his digits moving up her back to pop open the clasp of her bra with ease. Another kiss came with that, Liam falling back into the plush blanket of his bed.

Now with her scantily clad body on top of him, he really began to explore. His lips fell to her neck as he buried his face in the side of it, nipping at the soft flesh to get a rise out of her. She whimpered, the sound singing off the walls which only urged him to continue.

A short time later he flipped them over, reattaching their lips yet again. He couldn't get enough of her mouth. It was her turn though, he silently begged her, allowing her free reign. She took advantage, tracing his bare back, chest and arms, pulling away from the kiss to bite down on his shoulder when her hand slipped into the front of his jeans.

His own surprised noise fell, being replaced by a series of groans in response to her constant touch, and a grunt of protest when she moved her hand. Quickly she tugged down his jeans, using her feet to help him rid his legs of the now offensive denim.

The only thing left between them was the thin material of her under garments, which stood no chance against their lust. Both his jeans and her underwear joined the fabric at the foot of the bed as fast as Liam reached over to his bedside table.

Gold foil caught the beams of light coming through the room, shimmering like a shooting star in the darkness. He carefully ripped it open and rolled it down, glancing at her just before he did so for her permission. The moment he would put on what he needed to protect them, they were both aware that there was no turning back.

Her eyes flickered, and if they had been cartoon drawings of themselves a yes would have been painted inside of them. With her signal he was ready, he placed a soft kiss to her mouth, her legs hooked loosely around his waist and in one swift motion he was in. Limbs tangled, their bodies moving together in a rhythm they had built.

When she came, and he followed a short time later, he looked breathlessly down at one of his best mates. She smiled lazily up at him, a hint in her eyes that they weren't done with one another. He could, and would have her again before dusk turned into dawn, and she then fell asleep against his chest.


if any of you have found your way here from mibba, you may have already read this. i figured i could throw it around again for some inspiration of my own, because i want to get back into writing after a five months dry spell. if this is your first time reading this, there's three parts so i hope you enjoy it!


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