Chapter Text
The following morning, Harry's woken up by the sound of a text message being delivered. He reaches for his phone on the bedside table, eyeing the clock grimly, as it shows that it's just after 7 AM. But there is indeed a new text waiting for him. It's from Niall, saying ' happy christmas you cunt, love ya! ps. have you and zayn killed each other yet or have you fucked?' .
Harry rolls his eyes as he reads it, unlocking his phone to reply. Since Zayn's currently pressed against his back, an arm thrown around Harry's waist, he's very much alive. And no, they haven't fucked and they won't. That's a boundary Harry isn't willing to cross. Kissing doesn't mean anything but letting someone quite literally inside of you is a step too far for this whole charade. None of it is real, not quite. They might've consciously fallen asleep like this but whether it's Stockholm syndrome or cabin fever, or some Christmas spell, it'll be over once January rolls around and they're in NYC again. So Harry's going with whatever is happening now. He knows very well that if they weren't forced into this by Niall, Zayn would've forever stayed that weird good acquaintance, not quite a friend that he was before.
' christmas was a few days ago now and no, we're both alive and we HAVE NOT FUCKED nor will we ever' Harry texts back. Niall sees the message right away and his typing bubble appears promptly. The next text is even worse ' your sister said something else about you two'.
“Oh my god,” Harry whispers to himself and starts typing again. ' niall i swear to god if youre trying to hit on my sister again im disowning you. im deporting you back to ireland somehow. why are you two talking?' Harry sends. Within a few moments, he has his reply, ' she texted me. said she was pissed at me for organizing this because you and zayn keep acting like boyfriends while pining for each other and its annoying. her words, not mine. have you at least sucked him off? i know your moves hazza'.
Harry considers blocking Niall's number then but instead, he texts back, ' no, i havent and i wont. we havent done anything sexual. we kissed a few times IN FRONT OF PEOPLE because thats what we woudlve done if we were actually dating. which we are not. i just have to get through a week or so more and i can go back to ignoring him like before.'. Niall must be having great fun with this because he replies, ' yeah and im father christmas. just let it go hazza. z likes you. he wouldnt have gone with you otherwise, that boy is a stubborn cunt.' .
Harry scoffs at this ridiculous statement. Niall doesn't know about their past. And besides, Harry has been single for almost a year. If Zayn truly liked him, he could've asked him out a million times. They've been clubbing together as a group this year more than five times. He could've made a move then or literally any other time he saw Harry, which was many times. Harry just texts Niall, ' if he really liked me, he had a million chances to ask me out this year and he wouldve done it. hes not a mute child. im not talking about this with you anymore. GOODBYE.' and locks him phone. He's determined to ignore Niall at least until the new year.
With his phone on do not disturb, Harry closes his eyes and tries to fall back asleep again, at least for a bit. The bed soft and cozy, and another warm body there with him, it's not such a hard feat.
xxx
In early afternoon, Harry decides to drag Zayn out to the tiny frozen lake behind their cabin. It's not snowing, thankfully, so they should be mostly okay. As usual, it is freezing so they bundle up in warm jackets and this time around, Harry doesn't wear jeans. It still sometimes feels like his dick is half-frozen and he doesn't want to find himself in the ER later tonight because he's pissing icicles.
“I'm not a great skater,” Zayn remarks as they walking toward the lake, each with a pair of shakes in hand and a thermos with tea that Anne forced them to take. “Fun fact, I can skateboard quite well though.”
“And snowboard?” Harry teases, remembering how Zayn mentioned that he nearly broke his leg last year.
Zayn rolls his eyes at him. “I'm good with like, all the snow things, last year some first-time snowboarder got in my way and I couldn't stop or slow down in time. Came out of nowhere, really. That guy actually did have broken bones.”
“Good thing you survived in one piece then,” Harry remarks. “And we're here.”
The lake is something close to a pond, lined by a bit of artificially-placed sand that is nice for sunbathing in the summer. But it's frozen over and even if they were to fall in through broken ice, the water doesn't go that deep either way. Still, Harry hopes a disaster doesn't happen. He's had nightmare about getting sliced up with ice skates and his clumsiness is always a lurking threat.
“This is nice,” Zayn comments as they walk to the picnic table that's there, sitting down to put their skates on.
The second Harry stands to his feet he nearly falls over on his ass which is frankly embarrassing.
“Do you know how to skate?” Zayn chuckles as he stands up too. He wordlessly takes Harry's gloved hand in his and they stumble towards the ice together. Once they're actually on the ice and not the wobbly snow, Harry feels more sure on his feet and he doesn't know what Zayn was talking about, since he's perfectly okay on the skates.
“Better than Central Park, yeah?” Harry grins as he pulls Zayn further into the middle of the lake. “No kids milling around that probably have a death wish. No dumbass couples trying moves that take years to master. Good, right?”
“Yeah, it's cool,” Zayn says, his breath turning into mist right away. “Kinda miss the cheesy music and lights, though.”
Harry rolls his eyes and drops Zayn's hands. “Don't be high-maintenance. I'd play you some music but it would disturb the wildlife. You don't wanna get killed by a moose at the ripe age of twenty-one, do you?”
Zayn laughs, skating closer to Harry. “Of course not. But maybe if I got to haunt this lake… that'd be cool. Very Friday the 13th . I'd pull you underwater. But don't go skinny dipping, I'm not that catfish that bit your dick.”
“Shut up!” Harry squeaks, his face red as he skates away from Zayn faster. “I hate them for ever telling you that. It hurt , okay? I'm gonna catch a catfish and put it on your dick, see how you like that.”
“Did Logan blow your boo-boo?” Zayn laughs behind him. “Put a kids band-aid on it?”
“I actually hate you,” Harry laughs. “No, he wasn't here. And stop talking about my dick. This place is associated with so many nice memories. Fuck the catfish. It probably got eaten already.”
“Now that's a kink I've never heard of before,” Zayn catches up to Harry, smacking his ass before skating away from him quickly.
“You little shit,” Harry complains before he starts flying down the ice to Zayn. They collide eventually, both laughing so hard their lungs are starting to hurt from the cold air. Eventually, they calm down to catch their breath. Harry's got his hands on Zayn's shoulders, while Zayn holds his hips, keeping him in place.
“You're evil out here,” Harry manages to gasp out. “There must be some bad juju that's making you be like that. You're so nice to everyone but me. You're supposed to be my boyfriend.”
“Well, last night you said you're as sweet as caramel and you haven't been that sweet,” Zayn smirks. “I'm just teasing you, babe. You don't meet people every day who had their dick bitten by a catfish.”
Harry can't help but laugh, his eyes closed as he throws his head back. “I knew you were such good friends with Niall for a reason. You're both the same menaces. You only hide it better.”
“Maybe so,” Zayn shrugs. “Niall's sarcasm doesn't have an off button. Mine does.”
“Really?” Harry drawls, eyeing him. “How does one get to turn that off?”
“Oh, there's many ways,” Zayn muses. “You might have discovered one last night.”
“So if I kiss you you're gonna stop with the catfish thing?” Harry quirks an eyebrow. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”
“My mouth's gonna be occupied some other way, duh,” Zayn shakes his head with a laugh. “It's simple logic.”
Harry thinks about what a horrible idea this is but he's already allowed himself to fuck up while they're here. None of this will matter in a few days. So Harry leans his head to the side and connects their lips in a kiss. Just hours after the last time, this feels familiar, warm and Harry almost feels like he can smell the fire and taste the mulled wine again but that's just a fool's idea.
This kiss ends quite quickly, before either of them can include a tongue in it. It wasn't chaste but it was enough to get Harry's blood pumping, making him feel like it's much warmer outside than it already is.
“C'mon,” Harry nods his head at Zayn, slowly moving away on his skates. “Let's race for a bit before we go back in. It's gonna be dark soon.”
As they circle the lake a few times until it gets dark, there are no mentions of that fucking catfish so Harry counts it as a success.
xxx
Gemma corners Harry in the mudroom when they get back, right as Harry's putting away the skates. Zayn went upstairs to change already, so it's just them and for a moment, Harry thinks Gemma's going to murder him. At least that's what her angry look suggests.
“Harry, what the fuck?” she yell-whispers once the door to the hallway and the rest of the house is closed. “What was that ?”
“What was what?” Harry frowns, standing up from where he was squatting near the cabinet with ice skates. “What did I do?”
“I saw you on the lake,” Gemma says, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I can't believe you lied to my face.”
“Lied about what?” Harry shakes his head. “We were just skating. Did you want to go with us? Is that why you're mad?”
“No,” Gemma says. “You said that you two weren't together and I saw you kissing. There was no one out there, just the two of you and you were making out like some teenagers.”
Harry's jaw drops slightly as he tries to gather his words. “Well, you were there!”
“I was on the phone with Evan, walking around, because in this house you can't have any privacy,” Gemma explains. “But you two are together and you didn't tell me.”
“We're not together,” Harry rolls his eyes. “We were just kissing. What, am I not allowed to kiss someone without your permission?”
Gemma sighs, her arms falling down along her body. “I asked you like two days ago if you knew you were doing and you said yet but clearly, you have no fucking clue what you're doing.”
“I do know what I'm doing,” Harry scoffs. “Can't we have a little fun? It doesn't mean anything. We're stuck here together so might as well take advantage of it.”
“I can't believe you,” Gemma shakes her head. “How are you not adopted is beyond me. Or maybe I'm adopted because there is no way my brother is that stupid.”
“Jesus Christ, Gems,” Harry throws his hands up. “Didn't you have casual sexual relations in college too? Why are you acting like this?”
“Mom wasn't there when Logan broke up with you,” Gemma says fiercely. “She lives in blissful ignorance, thinking Zayn is your boyfriend and everything is fine. But you spent a week in my apartment, while I tried to piece you together after Logan left. I can see the way you two look at each other. And I know your ways, Harry. I still don't fucking know what Logan did to you that you became like this, but you need to get your shit together. Either stop this completely or open your eyes and fix it. Because I'm not gonna be here for you again when you come crying to me about a broken heart.”
“Fine,” Harry snaps. “Because there won't be a broken heart. You can't get one when you're not in love. I can kiss whoever I want whenever I want. Logan has nothing to do with it.”
“Fine,” Gemma retorts, her lips set in a straight line. “But don't say I didn't fucking warn you.”
“Fine!” Harry yells after her when she turns around and leaves him alone in the mudroom, wanting to have the last word in this conversation.
Gemma doesn't knows a thing about this. And she wouldn't understand either, even if she knew all the bits and pieces Harry never told anyone. Not everything has to mean something, be something. Because Harry knows that when he tries it to be, it always goes to shit either way.
xxx
The few days until New Year's Eve are spent well, Harry reckons. No matter how many ugly looks Gemma gives him every time he's touching Zayn in any way, Harry is determined to continue things just like before. So what if they kiss? They're adults, they make their own decisions. Just because Harry isn't looking for a relationship doesn't mean he has to be celibate his whole life.
The days of nothingness between Christmas and the New Year are very mystifying but Harry has always found them quite pleasant. You don't really know what day it is, you don't feel like shit if you're not productive and spend all your time on the couch watching TV and eating cookies. It's warmth and the fuzzy feeling of a good, long hug.
He does look into his notes for his internship a few times, not too seriously though. Zayn usually hangs around, reading the book he got at Rosie's Petals, commenting on the plot of the sequels as well because apparently, he knows what's gonna happen but he's reading it either way. Harry redoes his nails one of those days and tries to talk Zayn into letting him paint his nails too but Zayn doesn't let him. Not because he would mind having his nails painted but because “ that pastel… turquoise is so fucking ugly, I'm not letting you put that on me” and yeah, that's fair. Harry's heard a similar comment about that particular polish before but he likes it and it's his nails so he doesn't really give a fuck.
New Year's Eve is a bit of a strange holiday and Harry's never quite liked it. Sure, when he was younger it was exciting to stay up late and set off some fireworks but now, honestly, he'd rather be in New York at a party, getting drunk off his ass. Next year, he might end up taking a quick trip to Manhattan for a party and then coming back to the cabin. He loves his family, but they're not the most exciting bunch.
They do technically have a party of sorts. There is party food, they're encouraged to dress up nicely but all they do is sit around in the living room, watching various New Year's Eve programmes and then when the middle ages adults are tipsy enough, there is some dancing involved. Aunt Betty always puts on some late 80's music of her youth and Matt and Jane whine at her to stop embarrassing them.
This year it's not much different. At 11 PM, the adults are drunk just enough to abandon their adult kids and reminisce about their youth while pulling some terrible dance moves. But it's all in good fun. Harry knows that one day, he's gonna be that old too and oh, he will start dancing the second he hears Beyoncé playing.
“Are they ignoring us already?” Matt stage-whispers as he comes back to the corner of the living room where the youths are sitting around, drinking all the wine they could find. “I got something for us.” Matt then proceeds to pull out a bottle of vodka from behind his back. In his other hand are a bunch of neon plastic shot glasses Harry's sure are leftover from his last party.
“Oh, wow, you're so generous,” Gemma says in a monotone voice. “Shitty vodka. This is the best party ever.”
“Don't be ungrateful,” Matt nudges her ribs as he sits back on the sofa. “You could've gone to some fancy party but you're here and this is all we have. Is everyone drinking?”
“Is it just straight vodka?” Harry frowns. Lately, he's graduated from shots to drinks because after hitting twenty-one, it felt too dumb to be puking after every single party. His drinking game is more refined now.
“Yep and you're gonna love it,” Matt thrusts a full shot glass into Harry's hand and another one into Zayn's, who doesn't look too excited about it either. Ah, to be a college freshman again and be thrilled about any and all alcohol.
“Well, cheers,” Zayn turns to Harry and clinks their neon shot glasses together before throwing back the shot. Harry feels like he just drunk plain petrol or something. One thing he doesn't miss from his earlier years of college is the cheap vodka.
“God, this is like paint thinner,” Jane says, shaking her head. “I love it. Give me another one.”
Everyone silently agrees but alcohol is needed here. Especially as the music gets louder and Aunt Betty screams in glee at her favourite song coming on. They try to play a drinking game for a while but it stops working when Jane starts arguing about how fair is it really, when she's the one to drink three times in the row so they drop it rather quickly.
“Do you have any New Year's resolutions?” Zayn asks Harry about three shots in. His dress shirt is now more unbuttoned and Harry has a hard time focusing on his face when there's a very nice chest peeking out from underneath the dark material.
Eventually, Harry manages to lift his eyes up and meet Zayn's gaze. “No. You don't need a new calendar to start being a better person. Do you have any?”
“Maybe,” Zayn shrugs. His eyes are a bit glossy now with the alcohol. They've all been mixing wine and vodka. This is not gonna end well for their livers. “I wanna stop smoking. Not weed but just regular cigarettes. That's it, I guess.”
“Not bad,” Harry admits. “Tobacco is so useless. Just ruins your lungs. But I'll have to say, I don't mind a blunt from time to time. It'd be dumb to ask if you have any now, right?”
Zayn grins at him. “Not really, no. But I don't have any, sorry. I felt like it would be inappropriate to bring drugs, technically, to my boyfriend's cabin for Christmas.”
“So considerate of you,” Harry puckers his lips before he knocks back another shot. “Fuck, this is horrible. What if Matt is really trying to poison us all?”
Zayn downs the shot as well, seemingly not affected by it. “It's just bad vodka. We both survived Niall's frat parties, we can get through this. Remember his mystery drinks? I'm genuinely surprised no one ever died from it. There must've been rat poison in it.”
Harry laughs so hard he snorts. “Oh god, I know. He said once that it was different for every party. Basically unfinished bottles of booze from previous parties. But he said that he always put a Guinness in it just for the sake of it. Said it would be bad luck if he didn't.”
“I never had to have my stomach pumped so I guess it worked,” Zayn shrugs. They're sitting sideways on the loveseat, so close together that Harry can smell the alcohol on Zayn's breath. His lips are stained a bit red with wine and Harry wonders if his own are as well. He just hopes his teeth aren't red. It happened once and it was terrifying.
“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Harry asks out of nowhere. “We're starting a new decade. S'weird, innit? Ten years ago I was a little kid. So much can change.”
“It's ten years,” Zayn mumbles. “But I don't know. I just wanna be happy, you know what I mean? Doesn't matter what I'm doing, if I'm married, if I have kids. Shit just figures itself out so, I just wanna be happy. No plans, no expectations.”
Harry stares at him, nodding along even after Zayn has stopped talking. He can feel how the alcohol had hit him now and if someone was to give him that police sobriety test, he would fail it spectacularly. But it's just so fucking hard to stop watching Zayn's lips move. Harry lets his head drop on his arm that's outstretched on the back of the sofa. “I really wanna kiss you right now,” Harry mumbles at Zayn. “And maybe take that shirt off of you so I can see that tattoo you have there on your collarbone.”
Zayn smirks at him slowly, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You're a very sloppy drunk, Harry Styles, aren't you?”
“No,” Harry drawls. “I'm actually quite good at handling myself. My brain to mouth filter just doesn't work as well. And I'm not that drunk, it's just the fuckin' wine and vodka combo.”
Suddenly, someone smack the back of Harry's head. He turns around, ready to tell whoever it was off but Jane doesn't give him a chance. “It's almost midnight, loser. Grab your boyfriend and come outside. You spent enough time ignoring us.”
Harry rolls his eyes at her and stands up on wobbly legs. When he's standing, he offers a hand to Zayn who takes it and doesn't let him go. They have enough alcohol cruising through their veins to be stupid and not wear any jackets. Harry's dad and Uncle Paul are setting up some fireworks while his mom and Aunt Betty are giving everyone a flute of champagne.
“If I drink this I'm gonna puke,” Harry notes depressingly as he looks down into his glass. “It's gonna be a version of Niall's death drink in my stomach.”
“Then don't,” Zayn says simply and snakes an arm around Harry's waist. “Fucking hell, it's cold. Why aren't we wearing coats?”
“Because we're dumb fucks,” Harry says, his teeth chattering. “It's just a few minutes. We're men, aren't we? There must be an Old Spice ad about conquering the cold. Let's take inspiration from there.”
Zayn laughs into Harry's shoulder. “You're ridiculous. C'mere.” Zayn drops his plastic flute of champagne down and pulls Harry into an embrace, Harry's drink meeting a similar fate quickly. “Let's not freeze completely if we have body heat.”
“You're so warm,” Harry sighs into Zayn's neck. “I'm never letting you go.”
“What if I have to piss?”
“Don't care, you're warm.”
The countdown to midnight starts being screeched out by everyone but Harry's tongue is heavy, too heavy to participate in cheerful yelling.
“You want a NYE midnight kiss?” Zayn whispers into Harry's ear, his breath warm. The vibrations of his voice send a chill down Harry's spine.
Harry pulls back enough so they can look at each other. “Why else did I bring you here for?” Just as everyone yells 'one' around them, Harry says quietly, “Happy new year.”
“Happy new year,” Zayn repeats and presses their lips together. The warmth of it is a solace in the frigid temperatures outside and Harry lets his tongue slip into Zayn's mouth quickly. Midnight kisses should be chaste and cheerful but this is much better. He pushes their bodies together as Zayn tightens his grip on Harry's hips. Even in the disgusting cold air, as some fireworks go off in the background, Harry can feel himself getting hard from the kiss and if whatever he feels against his hip is anything to go by, Zayn isn't far off from him as well.
Harry knows he will blame it on the alcohol later, and he should, but in that specific moment, it's inconceivable to him that this should end with just kissing. He's not in high school anymore. So Harry fucks up, monumentally, irreversibly and tragically, by asking one simple question.
“Do you want to go up to my room?” Harry whispers against Zayn's lips. He ruts his hips and Zayn just nods a few times between kisses and the deal with the devil has been signed.
“Okay,” Harry says quietly, nodding like a dog figurine on the dashboard of a car. “Let's go. They're all drunk, they won't notice we're gone.”
Even if it feels like he's been slapped by the cold once their lips aren't touching, Harry wants to get to his bedroom as quick as he can. He grabs Zayn's hand in his and pulls him behind himself, walking as fast as his drunken feet allow him to. The stairs are a more difficult feat but they're finally upstairs, opening the door to the bedroom they've been occupying for over a week now and it doesn't feel so hopeless.
Harry pulls Zayn into a kiss the second the door is closed again, his hands holding his face like he should disappear if Harry let go.
“Fuck,” Harry curses between kisses, his hands already moving to the buttons of Zayn's shit. “I've wanted to take this off of you for so long now.”
“Ditto,” Zayn mumbles into Harry's lips, his own hands too on Harry's shirt. It doesn't take long before they're shirtless, falling onto the bed together. It's been a while since Harry had someone in his bed and the pure thrill of it is making him so hard that he gasps every time his dick catches against his zipper. He starts unbuttoning his own pants, trying to take them off as fast as he can. Zayn does the same thing and soon they're both just in their underwear, humping against each other like they're teenagers doing this for the first time.
Harry pulls Zayn between his legs, locking him in as they kiss. Their dicks catch against each other a few times, making them moan into one another's mouth.
“Fuck me,” Harry says into the kiss. “Please, just fuck me. Quickly.”
“Okay,” Zayn mutters as he moves to kiss Harry's neck. “Do you have stuff?”
“Yeah,” Harry breathes out heavily. “Bedside table. There should be lube at least. Dunno about a condom but I'm clean and I don't mind if you don't.”
Zayn doesn't comment on it as he reaches for the drawer, pulling out a half-empty bottle of lube but no condom. “I've never fucked anyone raw,” he says. “So I'm good. But are you sure about this?”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Just need you in me. C'mon, don't drag this out.”
“Fuck, you're impatient,” Zayn chuckles as he begins to slowly pull Harry's boxers down, finally freeing his dick. “Glad to see there's no permanent damage from that catfish. It would be such a pity, you have a nice dick.”
Harry laughs, covering his eyes with his hands. “Shut up. I'm gonna go soft if you keep mentioning that.”
“You sure about that?” Zayn kisses Harry's neck and slowly wraps a hand around Harry's dick. “This doesn't feel like that.”
“Fuck,” Harry moans at the contact. “Don't fucking tease me, I won't last.”
“Don't worry, babe,” Zayn mumbles into Harry's skin as he kisses down his chest. “I'll make sure you do, yeah?”
“Do whatever you want, just fuck me,” Harry says.
“That's a lot of freedom,” Zayn mumbles and suddenly his lips are on Harry's dick as his fingers circle his rim, now wet with lube. And it's too fucking much at once, the pleasure shooting through Harry's body like those damn fireworks from outside. He's far from quiet, not giving a fuck that there's his whole family in the house, he can't not be loud when Zayn starts fucking him with his fingers as he leisurely blows him. He's not ever blowing him properly, just getting the tip in his mouth sometimes, changing it up with kissing his length.
“God, Zayn,” Harry gasps as he gets three fingers in him. “I'm good, just get in me before I come. Fucking hell, hurry up.”
“Alright,” Zayn drawls, taking his fingers out as he leaves a few kisses on the inside of Harry's thigh. He then takes off his underwear, Harry taking the moment to ogle him. He does have a nice dick, not too big that it would be uncomfortable but both the girth and length are enough that Harry's sure he's gonna feel it tomorrow. Not to mention that Zayn is fucking gorgeous with his slim, toned torso littered with a few tattoos that Harry still never got the chance to get his lips on and fucking hell, does he want to.
Zayn lubes himself up before leaning down to hover over Harry's body, lining himself up. Harry lets out a string of curses as he enters him, letting in just the tip at first so he can adjust.
“You can move, please,” Harry moans after a moment, warily moving his hips to get more of Zayn's length inside of him. He can't even think, not about how wrong this is or how he's going to regret it because it feels too fucking good.
With one hand on Harry's hip and the other by his head, Zayn pushes in until he's fully inside and for a second, Harry thinks he could easily come like that. But then Zayn starts moving and he wants it to last forever.
It's a continuous stream of pleasure, not even stuttering as they start to kiss again, languidly and easily, moaning in between kisses. Harry wraps his thighs around Zayn's hips, keeping him as close as he can. He tangles his fingers in Zayn's hair as they kiss and it seems too good to be true. But it isn't.
They find a rhythm that feels like heaven. Somehow, Harry ends up holding Zayn's left hand in his right and they're pressed so close together it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Harry turns his mind off as he feels that familiar heat building low in his stomach, wanting to rush to that sweet finish, that thrilling release. In that moment, he doesn't give a fuck about anything but that incredible feeling of being stretched out and filled in, over and over again, feeling warm all over and sated with slow kisses.
It's too fucking intimate when they look at each other. It's too much and not enough at the same time and instead of trying to make sense of it, of the look in Zayn's eyes, of his own frantic heartbeat, Harry just closes his eyes and lets go.
xxx
It has been a couple of years since Harry woke up on January 1st without a hangover and this morning isn't any different. By any means, it's not terrible but his mouth is dry and his head hurts enough that he's gonna look for some paracetamol. Only to add to that unpleasant sensation of a hangover, there is dried up come all over his ass and a few more areas of his body. And only then it hits, all that he did last night.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Harry groans. He's still naked and so is Zayn, pressed against his back like any other morning. Only this time there's absolutely nothing between them. He tries not to freak out because yeah, this is a mistake and outside of his drawn-up boundaries but maybe if he acts like nothing happened, they can pretend like nothing happened, just as last time.
Harry reaches for his phone, which is magically on his bedside table and not somewhere under the bed where he guesses his pants are. There is a sizeable amount of New Year's texts so he better start replying to them. He likes to do most of them during the night but this year, his traditions were a bit derailed because he himself was getting railed. Regrettably so.
Replying nearly the same thing to everyone is quite monotonous but it's nice that so many people thought of him, even of some of the messages were mass-sent. Regardless, it's nice to be remembered. He laughs at Niall's grumpy selfie, because the poor soul couldn't drink because of his sinus surgery. That's certainly a tragedy in Niall's book. Harry just replies that he drank enough for both of them.
There's a text from an unknown number, so Harry clicks on it, thinking it's probably someone from school who has his contact but Harry never bothered to either ask for theirs or save the number he was given. But he couldn't have been more wrong.
' Happy new year, Harry. Hope to see you soon. Logan xx'
Harry takes a sharp breath when he reads that text. This can't be fucking happening to him. His fingers move faster than his brain and delete the text right away. He can't have it in front of his eyes. Not after everything that happened, after everything he went through.
“Good morning,” Zayn mumbles into his shoulder then and Harry honestly feels like crying out of frustration. Is his life a bad sitcom? Is that why it sucks so badly?
“Last night didn't happen,” Harry says quickly and pulls himself out of Zayn's grasp. He locates his underwear somewhere on the ground and slips it on, before quickly walking to the bathroom door and pulling on a bathrobe.
“What?” Zayn breathes out, his eyes barely opened. “We had sex last night, Harry. How did it not happened?”
“It doesn't matter,” Harry says sternly. “It was a mistake. It's not gonna happen again.”
Zayn raises his eyebrows at Harry, sitting up in the bed. “What do you mean? What about the past week? You know we were kissing all the time when absolutely no one was around.”
“None of it was real, okay?” Harry huffs out a frustrated breath and runs a hand through his hair. “All this,” Harry moves his hands around. “Is just a fucking charade and nothing more. We're not actually together.”
“I know we're not together,” Zayn scoffs, shaking his head as he pauses for a while. “But last night, I thought- I didn't think it was nothing. Not after everything.”
“Not after everything?” Harry exclaims. “What everything? There was nothing! Absolutely nothing.”
Zayn blinks at him. “I don't usually sleep with people if there's nothing between us. I wouldn't have fucked you if you thought this was nothing.”
Harry lets out a bitter laugh. “You don't remember, do you?”
“Remember what?” Zayn frowns. “I can recall pretty much everything about last night. I wasn't that drunk.”
“Not last night,” Harry says quietly, shaking his head. “But at Niall's first frat party. Back in our freshman year. In that bathroom with the statue of a llama. Does that ring any bells?”
Zayn just stares at him silently, his lips in a straight line, a crease between his eyebrows. Harry takes a deep breath and continues speaking, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth and the stinging on his heart. “I came up to you in the kitchen. We flirted for a while before I kissed you. And we kept kissing until you dragged us to that bathroom. I was so fucking into you and I thought you were too. But I sucked you off that night and you left me there, without a single word, before I even had the chance to look at you after you finished. And then, when I went out to find you and ask you what the fuck was that, you were on the couch, happily making out with Gigi. The next time you saw me, you acted like we've never met before and I was too fucking embarrassed to tell you anything.”
“That was you,” Zayn says, a flash of realization storming across his face, his voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, that was you.”
“Yeah, it was me,” Harry retorts bitterly. “I hated you for two years for doing that and then Niall had to go and send you up here with me.”
“God, Harry, I'm so fucking sorry,” Zayn says and then he leans down the bed to try and find his clothes. “I truly had no fucking clue what really happened that night. I tried to figure out why you were always so vaguely mean to me but I just took it as that it was just how you were but fuck, I honestly had no idea. I was so high that night I don't know how I even survived it. I swear, I didn't remember.”
“Well, you remembered enough to know that someone sucked your dick,” Harry spits. “It's hard to believe that you didn't connect the dots, not even after years of seeing me regularly.”
“Harry, I'm so sorry, I swear,” Zayn pleads. “I've had the worst fucking crush on you for ages. That's why I agreed to come here with you after Niall asked me. I like you, and I'm sorry this happened. Fuck, I wish that night never happened.”
“Me too,” Harry says. “But it doesn't fucking matter now. Whatever this is, it's over. I can't have you here anymore, not after last night. I'll drive you to the bus station in Brooks Falls, I'll buy you a ticket to Manhattan, I don't fucking care.”
“What?” Zayn stops in his tracks. “Why? I mean, I know it's fucked up that I forgot and I swear to you I never meant to hurt you by that but now… the last few days were great, weren't they? Why can't we try this, whatever this is for real.”
Harry looks at him, trying to keep a straight face. He thinks about it for a split second, if they could continue kissing and having objectively good sex. Not everything was bad but Harry knows how it would end up. The text from Logan then flashes in front of his eyes and he remembers their breakup, remembers how he fucked it all up. He'd rather have the few nice memories of his time at the cabin with Zayn than have that , because eventually, that's where they would end up.
“No,” Harry shakes his head, looking down at his feet. “We can't do this.”
“Can't?” Zayn asks. “Why not? I mean, we have been practically dating already. You can't say that this was nothing, Harry. You know that it wasn't.”
“It was,” Harry bites his lip. “It has to be, Zayn. We can fuck sometimes if you want, when we're back at college but that's it. I can't do this.”
“Stop being ridiculous,” Zayn scoffs, coming closer to Harry. “Nothing would change, we would just stop pretending.”
“If we stop pretending there is nothing between us,” Harry says plainly. “You just fooled yourself into thinking that this could work because I played nice around my family and we had sex once. But it wouldn't.”
Zayn sets his jaw. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I've lived with myself for twenty-one years and I know!” Harry yells. “You deserve someone better. You want someone to love you, I'm just someone who will suck you off in a bathroom at a party or let you fuck them when you're tipsy and want to get off. I'm not someone you could love. And I couldn't love you, not in the way you deserve.”
“But what if I want you?” Zayn says, touching Harry's hand gently before Harry snatches it away. “What if I don't give a single fuck about what I deserve?”
“Then it's your problem,” Harry snaps, taking a step back. “You're a good fucking person, Zayn. You care about other people, you fucking donate to cat charities. I'm an asshole. You don't know me well enough to think that you truly want me. If I say yes, you will get tired of me in a month. You'll torture yourself because you won't want to break up and we'll end up hating each other. Let's stay friends, okay? While we still can. We can forget about last night, we can forget that fucking cursed night back in our first year. I know now that I was wrong for holding it against you but fuck, you've never been left in a bathroom after sucking off a guy that you liked. But whatever, yeah? It's in the past. So take my friendship or take nothing. Because I can't give you what you want.”
Zayn looks at Harry, a firestorm in his eyes. “You're so blind, Harry. Was this what Logan told you? That you're not good enough? That you can't satisfy anyone in a relationship? Is that what he made you think while he went behind your back to fuck other women?”
“No!” Harry screams, walking away from him. “This has nothing to do with Logan and everything to do with me! I know that I wouldn't make you happy because we want different things. I mean, fuck, if you brought me home your dad would call me your friend. But I doubt we would ever be serious enough to get to that.”
“Don't bring my fucking dad into this,” Zayn snaps. “That's his problem, not mine. But you have a problem too and it's that your fucked up ex ruined your self-esteem and now you think you're not good enough for anyone. Well, I'm gonna tell you a secret - you are. You're a wonderful person, you want to help other young people, you're kind and kids love you. But you have a thick skull and no matter what I, or anyone else does, you won't change. So fine, I'll leave. Because I like you, I like you a lot and I think we could be good. I won't force you into anything. We fucked and that's it. End of story. We can leave this ridiculous chapter behind us.”
“Good,” Harry nods once, his voice on edge. “You know nothing about my ex or whatever's going on in my life. Think whatever you want but you're wrong. That's all I'll say. You're wrong about everything you just said. You'll see once you meet someone actually worth your time. Someone you will want to spend more than one night with. Or one and a half, in our case.”
Zayn shakes his head slowly. “I'm not the one who's wrong. And don't bother with the bus, I'll call for a car.”
Without saying another word, Harry leaves the room and doesn't look back.
xxx
Zayn is gone within half an hour. Harry watches as he leaves from the living room window, hiding behind the curtain so he doesn't see. But Zayn doesn't look back either, just like Harry didn't when he was leaving the bedroom. And everything's over, just like that.
Harry sits on the sofa, just in his underwear and bathrobe for God knows how long before his mom comes down and finds him there. He wasn't really thinking, he couldn't. Not when the images of last night kept showing up in front of his eyes, mingling with the painful flashbacks of his breakup with Logan. One is worse than the other and Harry doesn't want to remember either. He just wishes he could fucking forget everything and live in blissful ignorance.
“Harry, what happened, honey?” Anne asks as she walks to Harry. “Why are you crying?”
Harry touches his face, looking back at his wet fingers. “I didn't know I was crying,” he mutters and wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.
“What is going on, love?” Anne asks, her voice worried just like when Harry was a child and he came home crying with a busted knee. “What happened?”
Harry sighs deeply, his breath shaky. “Zayn and I broke up. He just left.”
“What?” Anne gasps and pulls Harry into a hug. An involuntary sob leaves Harry's throat, even if he knows this wasn't a real breakup. “How could you guys break up? You were so happy last night? You disappeared right after the fireworks.”
“I know,” Harry sniffs. “It just- it didn't work out. We wanted different things.”
“Honey,” Anne sighs and pets Harry's hair. “It doesn't make sense, I mean, you were so happy the whole time and now just suddenly you're done? You will talk it out, baby, trust me. Fights like this happen in a relationship. Just wait until you're back and everything will be fine again.”
“No, it won't,” Harry says adamantly, blinking through the tears that just won't stop coming into his eyes. “It's over, mom. Truly over. We're not right for each other.”
“Oh, baby,” Anne sighs, rubbing her hand over Harry's back. “I'm so sorry. You were so good together. I really thought this would last a long time.”
“I know,” Harry says and then a sob leaves his mouth. “I just- I don't know. I didn't think we would end like this.”
“Sweetheart, don't lose hope, okay?” Anne whispers. “I don't know what happened but nothing is ever truly over. You can fix this, if you both feel like it. But it's alright if you don't. Life goes on. You're still so very young.”
“Yeah, life goes on,” Harry chokes out, closing his eyes before he hides his face in his mom's shoulder.
A few minutes later, a voice comes from the doorway, “Well, well. What do we have here?”
Harry looks up and sees Gemma quirking her eyebrow at him from the archway, a cup between her hands. He loves his sister to death but now, she's honestly the last person he wants to see.
“Gemma, be sensitive,” Anne scolds her, dropping her voice. “They just broke up.”
“That looks like a pretty real breakup, doesn't it?” Gemma remarks while looking straight at Harry and leaves.
Harry just closes his eyes again and hugs his mom tighter. It's gonna be fine. He'll be just fine. This Christmas break isn't the worst mistake he's ever made. He's fucked up worse, he's sure of it. In a few months, he won't even remember how Zayn's lips felt against his or how his nose crinkled when he laughed. It'll be an anecdote, something Niall will tease him about and he will laugh over the next time he sees a fake-dating plot in a movie. Like his mom said, life goes on.
xxx
“Hazza, which shirt do you like best?”
Harry looks up from his book, flicking his eyes between the two short-sleeved shirts Niall is holding up in the air. One is a plain, denim-looking one while the other one has a vaguely plant-like pattern on it.
“I guess the patterned one,” Harry says. “You're not going to the fashion week, it's just a party.”
Niall scoffs, but takes Harry's advice nonetheless and puts the shirt on over his plain white tee. “It's Zayn's birthday party and there are gonna be fancy people and I need to charm the ladies. Can't go in there looking like a bum.”
Harry hums noncommittally as he gets back to his book. He's been reading the same page over and over and over again because Niall's chatter keeps distracting him. Eventually, he hopes he's gonna at least finish the chapter by the time he goes back to his dorm.
“Harold,” Niall snaps his fingers like a middle-aged rich woman. “Look at me.”
Harry lifts his head wearily. “What? You look fine. Just don't get drunk off your ass and you'll get laid no problem. I'm trying to read here.”
“You should come with me,” Niall says, now turned to the mirror on his door as he fusses with his hair. “You're acting like a proper cunt. Zayn told you he likes you, you clearly like him and he's a good lad. I'm sure he would be happy to see you at his party.”
“How can you know that, Ni?” Harry sighs. “Besides, I don't wanna go. If we ever see each other again, it has to be faith.”
Niall scoffs and smacks the back of Harry's head as he walks past him where he's splayed on Niall's bed. “I'm the best bloody wingman and matchmaker that has ever lived. I had Zayn go instead of me for a reason, a very good reason. I won't sit back and watch as you chuck this opportunity in the trash. No, sir. If you don't wanna come, alright, I won't force you. But you should make an effort. You fucked it all up.”
“Niall,” Harry whines. “I know, okay? I fucked up. I had a hangover, I was fucked over Logan texting me again and just about everything else. But I still think it's not the best idea. It won't end well either way.”
Niall raises his eyebrows at Harry before he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “You're insane. Relationships don't always work out. When you start dating someone, you're either gonna break up somewhere down the line or get married. Or be together until one of you die. That's some fucked up shite, yeah, but you can't be scared of it because you dated one cunt.”
“Okay, but what if Zayn turns out to be a cunt?” Harry asks. “What am I gonna do then?”
Niall laughs loudly as he meddles around with his desk. “Zayn's not a cunt. I know him better than you do. He's a lovely lad. He's gonna treat you like a bloody prince. Plus he's the most fucking beautiful man I've ever seen and I'm saying that as a fully straight man.”
Harry groans and covers his face with his book. “What if I don't wanna be treated like a prince?”
“You dumb cunt,” Niall hits the top of the book on Harry's face. “Just because you're used to being treated like trash by the men you sleep with doesn't mean all of them are like that. Those Grindr lads of yours, terrible. Logan, an utter cunt. You're throwing away a diamond for a rotten Big Mac.”
“That was a nice metaphor,” Harry's voice comes out muffled from underneath the book before he snatches it off and groans again. “I'll think about everything, okay? I can have some worries. Especially since my last relationship ended with my ex cheating on me a bunch and saying that he only did it because I wasn't fulfilling his needs.”
Niall gives him a look. “That's on him, not on you. You're a bloody catch, Haz. You're gorgeous and when you're not being a cunt, you're really great. So talk to Zayn, yeah? And apologize to him. It's the least you can do for kicking him out like that.”
“I didn't technically kick him out, okay?” Harry rolls his eyes. “Besides, I spent the rest of my holiday being teased about how I could let a man like him go.”
“Well, how could you let a man like him go?” Niall asks as he puts his shoes on.
“I'm scared,” Harry answers and takes a deep breath. “And tonight, I can guarantee you that he's gonna be with someone else already. A man like him wouldn't wait around for a sorry son of a bitch like me.”
“Hey, don't say that,” Niall points a finger at him. “Anne is a lovely lady.”
Harry lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Anyway, I know I'm being stupid about this. But that doesn't help my situation. I like him, I do. And I don't even care about the fact that he forgot that I sucked him off once. God knows I don't remember everyone I've ever hooked up with. But it hurt because I remember really liking him and I wanted it to be more and I was cursing myself out for putting it all out right away. If I hadn't, this could've looked much different. Also, I doubt he's gonna want me after what happened at the cabin.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Niall gives Harry a look. “You know who should hear this? Zayn. So come with me and as a birthday present, put yourself to good use and tell him you love him. Give him a kiss on the cheek.”
Harry smiles a little. “I'm not going, Ni. Just… tell him I said hi. And I don't love him. I like him, yes, but I don't love him. I know it sounds like one but this isn't actually a rom-com, you know.”
“Petty details,” Niall waves a hand and reaches for his jacket. “I'll tell him that you've been crying over him non-stop and that he should come immediately and heal your broken heart with his magic cock. Lock up when you leave. Love ya.”
“Byee?” Harry calls after Niall after he disappears out of his room with a shiny gift bag in his hand. He sighs and tries to find the page in his book where he stopped reading. He's honestly not leaving until he reads that chapter.
xxx
Roughly an hour later, Harry finds himself walking around in the Central Park, his book tucked in the pocket of his parka. He's got both a hat and his hood on since it's snowing, it's freezing but he needed the fresh air and that's a precious commodity in Manhattan.
He goes to Cherry Hill, which he thinks is beautiful all years round, not only when the trees are in bloom. It's late, probably around midnight but Harry's not bothered enough to actually check the time. Thanks to the late hour, the park is almost completely deserted, although there are a few drunks people milling around, laughing and screaming as usual.
The cold is nasty but the overall scene with the snow and New York's lights glinting is worth it. Sometimes it's good to enjoy a beautiful thing for a while. Harry also needed to clear his head after that talk with Niall. After that disaster on New Year's Day, Harry was a bit of a mess. Suddenly, he had trouble sleeping in an empty bed again. He missed Zayn's presence there, always around him with a witty remark or a steady hand on his lower back. He cried it off with his mom like a little kid and he thought he was good but he wasn't.
Even that little time was enough to make Harry feel something again. He didn't realize it as it was happening because he had written off relationships for good but what he and Zayn had for those few days was as close to it as one can get and fuck, Harry liked it. He didn't mind having someone to hold him at night, to kiss casually. To have those 'hello' and 'goodbye' kisses that don't mean anything else but perhaps a 'I'm happy to see you again'. He had fun with Zayn, whether they were ice skating or playing a board game with Harry's obnoxious cousins that he loves to death. Zayn fit in their little circle, no matter how hard Harry tried to turn a blind eye. He fit into Harry's life, in any and every way and Harry got terrified.
He was petrified because the last time he tried to make someone fit in every nook and cranny of his life, of his heart, it ended with a disaster and Harry in pieces. And yes, Harry managed to glue his heart back together but it was fucking difficult and he was reluctant to let someone handle it again. Even if he knew what a piece of shit his ex was and how he was wrong to make Harry feel terrible, the second Harry saw that text on his phone it was like no time had passed at all and he was back in that hole.
Zayn was different. He was a complete opposite of every man Harry has ever dated but thanks to one stupid night where they were both under the influence of God knows what, Harry thought he was just another one of the same bunch. But it was a damn frat party and Harry never gave Zayn a chance afterwards. He believed his being nice to Harry was just an act in public but it wasn't. People fuck up. Harry fucked up, by freaking out that morning. But he'd like to fix it.
He walks around the fountain atop Cherry Hill, hanging around it for a while, admiring how strange it looks with no water and with snow covering it all. It's a sight one can never get used to. After that bores him, Harry walks down the path to the lake, mostly curious to see if the edges are frozen or not. They might be, considering how fucking frigid it has been the past couple of weeks.
When he gets there, he sees another person standing around the edge of the path. Harry hopes it's not a robber or something who's gonna kill him but he's only got his book, phone and MetroCard on him. Maybe some gum and a tissue. As he walks closer, he sees that the man has a nice coat one so okay, probably not a criminal. When his eyes adjust to the dark and he gets even closer, he almost starts laughing because this could only be his fucking luck. His life is an actual joke.
“Why are you out in this cold when there's a roomful of people waiting for you?” Harry asks as walks to stand next to the stranger who isn't a stranger at all.
Zayn doesn't get startled by Harry, he could've seen him coming but he doesn't look at him at first. “I was there and I left because the one person I wanted there was missing. You?” Only then their eyes meet and Harry nearly loses his breath because fucking God, how can you miss the way someone looks you at you so much you struggle to breathe once you have it back?
“I was thinking about you, actually,” Harry clears his throat and attempts a smile before he ultimately has to avoid Zayn's gaze and look down because he's either going to start crying or smiling like a mad man.
“Good thoughts?” Zayn asks. Harry lifts his head and finds Zayn watching him with a smile small on his lips and his heart suddenly starts doing gymnastics.
“The best,” Harry replies and leans his head to kiss Zayn because it's the only thing he can think of doing. A stone falls off his chest when Zayn doesn't pull away. Instead, he puts one hand on Harry's face and the other on his hip, somehow finding Harry's jeans underneath that huge parka.
They kiss there by the lake as snow falls on them softly, their lips going from cold to burning and Harry feels so happy he could cry. He probably would've if it wasn't so damn cold. Eventually, even the sweetest of kisses has to end because they're short of breath but they have a hard time pulling away from each other. Harry keeps his arms wrapped around Zayn's neck, their foreheads pressed together as they both smile as complete fools.
“I am so so so so sorry,” Harry breathes out eventually, taking a small step back so he can look at Zayn properly. “That morning I was just- I fucked up, okay? Logan texted me and I was already scared of starting something real with a new person and because of that one fucking night, I had trouble believing that you wouldn't turn out just like him and frankly, I was scared. But I'm not anymore. And fuck, Zayn, I like you so much and I regretted sending you away every second. I'm stupid and selfish and irrational, and even as recently as tonight, Niall had to yell at me what I dumb fuck I've been, and still am. Gemma hit the back of my head with newspaper every single day, multiple times after you left because I was being so stupid. She knew, by the way, and she was right that I should've just told you that I liked you and made whatever we had into something real. You were right too. I'm really sorry and I just… I want to ask you to give me a second chance.”
Zayn gives him a small smile. “You've got it, Haz. We both said some things that weren't very nice that day and it's fine, it happens. I just missed you. And I'm glad to have you back. Tonight was a really good coincidence, huh?”
“Yeah,” Harry lets out a breathy laugh. “I was leaving Niall's place and he was going on and on and on about how I made a mistake and how I should come to your party and apologize but I was hesitant. I didn't know if you would still want me after everything. After I behaved like a dick.”
“You weren't a dick,” Zayn frowns a little. “You'll tell me all about it one day, when you feel comfortable enough but right now, I'm good with you just being here. I like you too, Harry, and I have for a while. You're impossible not to like. When Niall brought you along to things, each and every time you made the room glow with your smile and energy. It was addicting. When we started kissing at the cabin, I felt like flying a bit too close to the sun but it felt too fucking good to stop.”
Harry grins at him. “Well… I'm all yours. Sunshine, smile, energy, all of it. Anything you want. I'm not throwing a diamond away for a rotten Big Mac.”
Zayn furrows his brows as he smiles. “What?”
“It's something Niall said tonight,” Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I was still unsure about all this. About whether I'm ready to put my weak, little heart out there but then I saw you and all of it was gone. The worry, the anxiety, poof. I just wanted to touch you again. Wanted to tell you how sorry I am for fucking up.”
Zayn rubs his hand along Harry's side, underneath all his outer layers and it feels like heaven to Harry have his hands on him again. “Glad I was here and not drinking overpriced champagne, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Harry chuckles. “You know, I said to Niall today, after I refused to go to your party, something along the lines that if we ever see each other again, it has to be faith. It's silly, isn't it?”
“Faith has Amazon Prime it seems like,” Zayn laughs. “Same-day delivery and everything. Even at night.”
“Imagine if we had to wait months for this,” Harry contemplates. They still haven't moved and stand there in an embrace like it's the end of the world. “I'm stubborn enough that I would've waited until I ran into you randomly and then I would've, I don't know, confessed my feelings for you in a Starbucks during rush hour.”
“Better Starbucks than the subway,” Zayn muses. “It's so fucking cold here though, even if it is admittedly romantic. You wanna come back with me to the party? There's food and champagne. And central heating.”
Harry hums. “I'm wearing the t-shirt I slept in last night.”
“Sexy,” Zayn leaves a kiss on Harry's cheekbone. “Just the right dress code.”
“Nooo,” Harry whines. “I can't show up like that to your birthday party. Just go without me. We can meet up tomorrow.”
Zayn scoffs and pulls Harry into a deep kiss. “Like hell I'm leaving you now,” he mutters against Harry's lips. “You're gonna freak out again, move to Honduras and change your identity. Nope, not a chance. You're coming with me. It's at my apartment so I'll give you something else to wear.”
They finally untangle from each other and start walking away, their hands clasped together between them. Neither of them is wearing gloves and when Harry looks down at their hands, he catches the familiar glint of a certain aqua stone he's definitely seen before.
“You're still wearing the ring I gave you for Christmas?” Harry asks shyly, a smile breaking out on his face.
“Uh, yeah,” Zayn looks down at their clasped hands. “Couldn't bring myself to take it off properly.”
Harry just smiles at him so wide he fears his face will split in half. “Well, back to your previous idea, we can take my shirt off, and your shirt too, and everything and just stay in your bedroom,” Harry suggests, knocking his hip against Zayn's. “Also, I thought this was something fancy. Niall acted like it was at the Peninsula or Four Seasons.”
Zayn laughs brightly. “No, it's just a party. There's catering because I'm honestly too lazy to make that much food for drunk people but it's casual. No pressure on you, babe. Even if you don't change out of your pyjamas, people aren't gonna notice.”
“We should give Niall like a gift basket or something,” Harry thinks out loud. “Without him, we never would've started dating.”
“Is that what we're doing?” Zayn teases. “I thought we were planning a robbery together and Niall was the fence.”
Harry snorts. “What's a fence?”
“Some kinda… middle man, I don't know, I heard it in a movie once,” Zayn laughs. “So you're my boyfriend now, huh, Styles?”
“Guess so,” Harry grins at Zayn and thankfully doesn't fall on his face because he's absolutely not looking where he's going. “You okay with that?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Zayn grins back. “As long as you don't run from me.”
“Not going anywhere,” Harry shakes his head a little. “You will have to drag me out, kicking and screaming. One wise person once told me that once you find something good, you hold onto it. Or you in this case. I didn't take that advice once but I'm not making the same mistake twice.”
“Good,” Zayn stops walking and pulls Harry's face close to his again. “Because I plan to hold on to you for as long as you let me. Even if it's forever.”
The kiss then is saccharinely sweet and Harry revels in it. He doesn't think he's in love right now but if Zayn keeps kissing him like that, with skilled lips and quick tongue, Harry's sure it won't take him long before he falls in love with Zayn and he will fall hard. And he doesn't think that he will mind never falling out of it.
2 years later
Harry has always been an early riser. The occasional party and the need to sleep it off doesn't count because on regular days, Harry's usually up around 7, if not earlier. He liked to get a run in before he starts his day, or cook breakfast or just read a few chapters of the latest book on his bedside table in bed.
Christmas morning as an adult is usually not an early morning as the time when presents are actually opened inches closer to midday than what Harry considers morning. Still, even on that day, he wakes up when it's barely even light outside, takes a quick shower and goes downstairs to the kitchen. He's surprised not to find him mom there already but he doesn't pay it much mind as he starts making a pot of coffee. He hums to himself some random song he can't really place as he waits and then nearly gets a heart attack when a pair of familiar arms snake around his waist.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry gasps and turns around, smacking Zayn on the head gently. “Imagine if I was pouring coffee, you dumbass. We would've had like third-degree burns right now.”
“Sorry,” Zayn gives him a shit-eating grin, not sorry at all as he pulls Harry flush to him and kisses him briefly. “Good morning, baby.”
“Good morning, indeed,” Harry pecks his lips again before detaching himself and pouring both of them a cup of coffee. He adds creamer to both and cane sugar to his own. “Is the world ending that you're up so early?”
“No,” Zayn replies before muttering a thank you and taking the cup from Harry. “I started waking up like minutes after you lately. Can't sleep if I don't have you there. I'd really love it if you started getting up at normal people hours.”
“Aw, that's sweet,” Harry grins at Zayn obnoxiously and pinches his cheek. “But no. Not doing that. Not even for you. I live a very healthy lifestyle and you should join me, not try to get me to lower my health to your level.”
Zayn scoffs over his coffee mug. “Just because I don't drink a bunch of grass blended together doesn't mean I'm not healthy. I go to the gym. Sometimes you even drag me out to yoga with you.”
“You only go to yoga with me if I suck you off at home afterwards,” Harry scoffs but he has a hard time keeping the smile in. “Have you booked the tickets to Mexico already?”
“Yep,” Zayn nods and puts his mug down on the counter. “We're flying from JFK on the tenth of February at 8:25 AM. I don't remember the seat numbers, I'm not a computer.”
“Thanks, babe,” Harry comes to Zayn and kisses him quickly. “Can't wait to get a bit of sunshine with you before we both turn into zombies as we attempt to finish up our theses.”
“My dad still thinks it's a bad idea and that we should go after graduation,” Zayn chuckles. “But he doesn't have grad school and a very, very sexy boyfriend who looks amazing in tiny swimwear and even better naked so I don't think he can really comment on this.”
“Did you give him my present?” Harry asks. “I wrapped it in the least gay wrapping paper I found. It's silver. Not shiny, just vaguely metallic. I put in on the cabinet in the entryway.”
“Yes, I did,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “I assume you can expect a very formal email from him later today, expressing his gratitude. And babe, it's been two years, he's fine with us.”
“Fine, okay!” Harry puts his hands up. “I'm just saying, I like your mom better.”
“Who doesn't?” Zayn chuckles. “Speaking of presents, I have something for you that I didn't think would be appropriate to bring out in front of your family so you're getting it a bit early.”
“Zayn,” Harry whines, letting his head drop back. “What did I tell you? Don't fucking bring sex toys into my parents' cabin, house, car, anything!”
Zayn walks closer to Harry and gently grabs his left hand in his. “It's not a sex toy. Those handcuffs were forgotten in my bag from our trip to Connecticut. This is very much a nice, polite gift.”
“I don't believe a single word that just left your mouth,” Harry says but he can't wipe the lovesick smile off of his face. “So what do you have for me, Malik? Whatever it is, we're not trying it out until we're home.”
“Well,” Zayn clears his throat and takes out a small box that was hidden in a cupboard. It's wrapped in a red patterned paper with Christmas motive and Harry thinks of a few options right away, each dirtier than the other. “Open in it.”
Harry takes the box in his hands to find that it's pretty light and nothing too big or heavy could be hiding there. He unwraps the paper first, taking the gold bow with it as he digs deeper. Inside is a plain brown box and Harry quickly takes the lid off. Inside of it is another box but this time, it's a small red Cartier box and, “Oh my fucking God,” Harry whines as he covers his mouth. “You can't be serious.”
“I'm very much serious,” Zayn smirks at Harry and puts his hands on his hips. “But you still haven't opened the most important box.”
Harry looks at him quickly, tears already welling up in his eyes. He's never felt so much love in his life. It's all around him, in the way that Zayn's holding him, looking at him. His heart is wrapped in it like with a thick blanket. Harry finally takes the ring box out and opens it, finding a gold Love ring with a few diamonds set in it.
“Babe,” Harry says softly as he takes the ring out. “You're crazy.”
“Crazy about you maybe,” Zayn says and takes the ring from Harry's hand gently. “So what do you say, Haz? You wanna do this thing forever, maybe?”
“With you?” Harry teases but he can already feel the tears leaking out of his eyes. “I don't know, do I get a warranty with that? Where do I return you?”
“This is a no refund option,” Zayn laughs softly, looking down for a moment before his eyes meet Harry's again and yep, this is the exact place where Harry wants to be for the rest of his life. “You know, two years ago, you gave me a ring that didn't mean much. The roles are reversed now, I guess, but I was getting you some gifts and nothing felt quite right, quite good enough for you. And one morning, like two weeks ago I woke up and you were still in bed. You were reading one of those god-awful Bukowski books and it's like you could sense that I woke up and was looking at you. Then you looked at me and smiled and I just knew that that's how I want to wake up every single day for the rest of my life. I love you so fucking much, Harry, and I don't want to live my life without you. So if you feel the same way, no pressure, honestly, because we're not even done with grad school but I feel like we've always done things in the wrong order. But if you feel the same, would you like to marry me and do all those annoying things adults are expected to together?”
Harry sniffs, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his right hand. “Fuck yes. Of course. I love you so so so fucking much, Zayn, god. I'm so in love with you it's insane. So yes. A million times yes. I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else in the world. We fit together on some fucking… elemental and universal level, I don't even know, but whatever I'm doing it feels right when it's with you. I never wanted anything as badly as I want a forever with you.”
“I love you so much,” Zayn whispers and kisses Harry so gently it barely is anything at all. But it rarely ends there with them and Harry presses their lips together fully, wrapping his arms around Zayn. There have been many instances when Harry thought that they had their best kiss ever. The very first time was in Central Park when he pulled his head out of his ass and he and Zayn started dating like normal people. One of the other times was just after their graduation when they moved in together and decided to christen their new bed. But this one takes the hat so far. Harry is certain that he's going to think the same thing about their wedding kiss and about maybe a hundred other kisses. He might have an irking that he is right about them every single time.
“Give me my ring, please,” Harry mumbles into Zayn's lips when they stop kissing at last. “I want my diamonds and then get out.”
“Horrible, spoiled brat,” Zayn quips, kissing Harry again before he takes his left hand and slips the ring on his ring finger. He got the size just right because they're two sentimental assholes and ever since their first Christmas together, they have been buying each other rings constantly. Harry fears he might know the size of rings Zayn wears but not his own phone number. That's just a fear thought.
“You went quite classic,” Harry comments as he looks at his hand. “I didn't think you were one for conventional engagement rings.”
“We always get each other actually cool rings just for the sake of it,” Zayn shrugs. “I wanted this one to stand out. And it will sit better on your finger with a wedding band.”
“That's actually good foresight,” Harry laughs. “Fuck, I love you. Should we go have sex or gloat to my stupid cousins who are gonna stay forever alone?”
“It's your pick, both sounds like fun,” Zayn grins and kisses Harry quickly. Harry then grins like the Grinch himself and walks to the bottom of the staircase. “Hey, losers, wake up! We're getting married!” he yells at the top of his lungs. Zayn laughs from the doorway of the kitchen and it's fucking perfect.
Harry grins as he listens to the various shouts from upstairs, ranging from “Now? It's not even fucking nine AM!” (Matt), to “About damn time!” (Gemma) and even to “No wedding before you both finish grad school!” (Anne). He walks to Zayn then, laughing so hard his stomach is starting to hurt. As they kiss in the hallway between bounds of laughter, Harry really can't imagine a better way to get engaged.
Two years ago, in this very cabin, Harry had thought the most he can get out of that Christmas was perhaps a friend, if that. He truly had no idea that a single week could change his entire life. Harry not only got a friend but also his partner in crime, his fiancé, his eventual husband and most importantly, the love of his life.
If Niall hadn't nudged them into this, Harry never would've found that Zayn is his perfect half. The ying to his yang or whatever people say. Regardless of any cheesy metaphors, Harry found someone that marches to the beat of the same drum. They fit together like a well-made Swiss watch, whether it's simply cooking together or something fundamental as perhaps spending the rest of their lives together. Because Harry knows that no matter what happens in his life, he wants Zayn to be there. Whether it's good or bad. After all, not everything is so bad when they still have each other.