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This was really stupid. A fucking waste of money and an embarrassment to himself. He should have just bought the beer and left. He would have arrived sooner, wouldn’t have been late if he hadn’t spent fifteen minutes in the floral section of the corner shop staring at a bunch of the saddest looking bouquets he had ever seen in his life.
But here he was, standing on Damon’s front porch with a case of beer and a handful of roses. If Noel could see Liam right now, he’d just laugh and laugh. He had racked his brains to come up with a reason why he’d bought them for Damon when he’d never done so for any of his girlfriends in the past but couldn’t get past the growing uneasiness from wondering how Damon would react. Did blokes even buy flowers for each other?
It wouldn’t be too hard to leg it down the street and throw them in the bin before Damon noticed he was there and came outside, but he was already running late enough as it was; instead he just stayed rooted to the spot and reached out to knock on the door.
Damon opened it almost immediately and for a moment Liam forgot all of his unpleasant thoughts. He was wearing sweatpants and could do with a shave but Liam swore he could still look sexy even wearing a potato sack. He ushered him in and closed the door, pushing Liam up against it and pressing a kiss that was mostly teeth onto his lips.
Liam pulled back, smiling at him. “What’re you grinning for?”
“Nothing. I missed you, is all. Oh—” he said, zeroing in on the roses. Liam relaxed his hand, realizing he was holding them so tightly that the thorns were pressing through the plastic wrapping and into his palm. “You brought flowers?”
“Yeah.” Don’t say they’re for him, make something up, don’t— “For you.” Shit.
He raised them up awkwardly.
Damon’s eyes widened, an indecipherable look crossing his face as he stared at the roses.
“Oh,” he said again as he took them from Liam, careful and deliberate like they were a bomb about to go off. He looked up at him. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”
Liam’s face burned. “Nah, that can’t be true. What about your parents? Or your fans?”
Damon smiled stiffly. “No one I’ve shagged.” He turned and shuffled towards the kitchen. “I’ll see if I can find a vase.”
Liam trailed behind him, busying himself with opening a couple of the beers while Damon filled a dusty canning jar with water. He studied the takeaway menus posted on the fridge, jumping when Damon suddenly appeared behind him and wrapped an arm around his torso.
“Do you want Chinese?”
Liam licked his dry lips and placed his hand on Damon’s arm. “Yeah, alright.”
…
Half an hour later they were sitting on the couch and watching shitty cartoons while eating rice and failing to use chopsticks without dropping any food.
Liam was desperately trying to not look over at the dining room table, where Damon had set his newly acquired jar of roses. They were burning into the side of his face, but he refused to give them the satisfaction. He wasn’t going to let them ruin his evening, even if he had spent most of the last thirty minutes turning Damon’s lack of a reaction over and over in his head. Did he like them? Was he actually allergic and trying to spare Liam’s feelings? Was he put off now that he knew how stupidly far gone Liam was for him?
What the hell had Liam been thinking? Mates didn’t buy flowers for each other, even if they were shagging. But fuck if Liam hoped they were more than that, that Damon didn’t see him as just a friend with added benefits. Damon was constantly on Liam’s mind, and lately it seemed that he was his factory setting, that every moment without him was spent counting down the minutes until they saw each other again.
He could just ignore the flowers, letting them wither and die until Damon got sick of the sight and the smell and pitched them. Christ, Liam had just bought him a mess waiting to happen, hadn’t he?
A merciful distraction came in the form of Damon suggestively laying his hand on Liam’s thigh, and five minutes later he was being dragged, half undressed and sporting a new love bite, to the bedroom down the hall.
He was only two fingers in when Damon tugged impatiently at his wrist, insisting he was ready. Liam slowly pushed into him, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by Damon, hearing his small gasps and choked off moans and somehow feeling impossibly more aroused. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of this.
He picked up a steady pace, shuddering as Damon bit into the bruise on his neck he had made earlier. He tried for a new angle and Damon turned his face into the pillow, crying out.
Liam loved watching him like this, when he was coming apart below him. He leaned down, pressing his forehead into his collarbone.
Damon started shaking like he was close, but he wasn’t making the little “uh, uh” sounds like usual. Liam pulled back to see Damon with a hand over his mouth and his eyes squeezed shut. He stopped thrusting immediately.
“Shit, am I hurting you?” he asked, gripping Damon’s shoulder and gently pulling his hand away from his face.
The panic turned to confusion when he realized Damon was actually laughing, grinning and shaking throughout his whole body while he bit his lip to stifle the noise. Liam was having a very difficult time trying to keep himself upright and stay focused, as Damon’s muscles were spasming and clenching around his dick. He couldn’t remember a time when someone had laughed while he was inside of them; it was an unfamiliar though not entirely unpleasant experience. But he still couldn’t fathom why Damon was giggling uncontrollably below him.
The concern must have shown on his face as Damon took a few deep breaths to pull himself together.
“No, no,” he said, still chuckling. “I just—I just can’t believe you bought me flowers.”
Fuck. He knew that was a bad idea. He had a moment of weakness and made a stupid decision because he thought that it maybe could have been nice. That Damon would maybe appreciate it. That it could say all the things he had a hard time voicing.
But now he was being laughed at in the middle of sex and he just wanted to sink into the ground. Embarrassment and shame twisted into his gut like a knife and burned the back of his eyes.
He channeled the humiliation into anger instead, staring at the corner of the bed and downright refusing to cry while he was still inside of Damon. “Fucking toss ‘em in the bin, then.”
He was mulling over the idea of just pulling out and leaving to go home and forget this ever happened when he felt Damon’s hand on his cheek pulling him back to face him. The humor was slowly melting from his face, morphing into something much softer, almost fond as he stroked his thumb across Liam’s cheekbone. He nearly whimpered at the touch, allowing himself to lean into it despite the hurt and anger.
“They’re wonderful. You’re wonderful.” And then he started laughing again , though this time it sounded more light and beautiful, like wind flowing through a set of chimes. “You’re always finding new ways to surprise me.”
He moved his hand to the back of Liam’s neck and pulled him down so that their foreheads were touching. “You just make me happy, Liam, and I fucking love everything about you. Fuck, I love you.”
The heavy feeling in Liam’s stomach dissipated immediately as Damon slotted their lips together, falling away to the new sensation that his heart was expanding rapidly and ready to explode out his chest. Damon loved him. Damon loved him.
“Fucking hell, Damon.” This time he wasn’t sure he could keep the tears back, so he buried his face in Damon’s neck and resumed fucking him at a faster and even more desperate rate than before. His half-hard dick sprung back to life and Damon started moaning underneath him, writhing around from the sudden change of pace.
His legs came up to wrap around Liam’s back, pulling him in closer and encouraging him to fuck into him even deeper. He felt tighter than ever, somehow, and there was a new energy thrumming under Liam’s skin. He was almost lightheaded in the knowledge that Damon (who loved him!) was opening himself up like this, letting Liam do this to him. They had done this countless times but never before had Liam felt so honored to be with him. He felt so adored by this man, and damn if Liam wasn’t going to worship him until the day he died.
“Fuck, oh Liam— yeah, right there—”
Liam pressed open mouth kisses along Damon’s neck, tasting his salty skin and breathing him in. He gripped Damon’s hips hard and drove into the spot that made him moan even louder in ecstasy as his hands scratched along Liam’s back.
He started shaking again and Liam hoped it was actually because he was close, this time. He reached down to jerk him off in time with his thrusts, spurred on by Damon’s whines, until he was seizing up and crying out, spilling over Liam’s hand.
He grabbed Liam’s head and brought him up to kiss him sloppily while his hips stuttered, and soon enough he was coming inside of him, encouraged by the heels digging into his lower back and Damon whimpering his name.
He slumped down onto him after the initial waves of his orgasm wore off, only moving over when Damon pushed at his shoulder, complaining about his inability to breathe.
Liam rolled on his side so he could get another proper look at Damon’s profile. He had the most perfect nose and beautiful eyes, and his crooked teeth made his smile so goddamned endearing that Liam was reduced to jelly whenever he happened to be on the receiving end of it.
Damon caught him staring. He turned over to snake his arm around Liam’s waist and drag him closer, kissing him softly.
And Liam was so, so in love.
“Did you mean it?”
Damon didn’t ask him to clarify. He brushed Liam’s fringe away from his eyes. “Yeah.”
And God, Liam really didn’t know if he deserved that.
But maybe he could be selfish for once.
“I—um, me too.”
Damon’s eyes lit up, grinning wider than Liam had ever seen. “Yeah?”
Liam decided right then and there that he would buy Damon a fucking billion roses if it meant he could wake up to that smile every day. “Yeah.”