Work Text:
Harry's pretty sure that if he didn't have the next three days off, he'd break his own leg to get out of work. Really, a coffee shop should not tire him out so much.
Happy to be home, he kicks off his shoes onto the mat by the door and heads to his room to find a towel so he can take the hottest shower possible.
As soon as he flicks on the light, he realizes that there is definitely a body shaped lump under the navy duvet on his bed. It's not exactly a strange thing, Louis is sometimes passed out somewhere in his flat when he gets home, but Louis had just texted him saying he was out for dinner with Niall and Liam, so it can't be any of them.
Any regular person would probably leave the flat and call the cops, or something equally smart. But Harry's never really been normal, so he warily approaches the bed, hearing soft, sleepy snuffles as he peels back the duvet.
He stares down at the boy in confusion. His hair is shiny black, sticking up all around in small tufts across his forehead, he's got extremely long dark eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks, and there's tattoos all over his collar bones, chest and arms.
He blinks his eyes open, stretching sleepily and snuggling deeper into the pillows before his eyes settle on Harry and his lips stretch into a pleased smile. "Hey, babe," he says, voice deep and raspy from sleep, his accent thick. "How was work?"
"Erm, terrible," Harry replies. "Who are you?"
The boys eyebrows scrunch up, as well as his eyes, and he gives Harry an amused smile. "Funny," the boy says. "Go have your shower, I'll get dinner ready." He kicks the blankets off him more, revealing skinny tan legs and tight black boxers. "I got that chicken you like so much," he continues, sitting up on the edge of the bed, "want that?"
Harry blinks.
"Something else, then?" the man asks.
"Seriously," Harry says, "who are you? And why are you in my bed?"
"Harry, you're not being funny." The man stands, stretching his arms above his head. "I know I don't cook much but you don't need to act so surprised."
"Um," Harry says intelligently. "I'm not trying to be funny? I really have no idea who you are."
The mans eyes search his face for a few seconds, before sighing. "Alright," he says, moving over to the desk chair on the other side of the room to put on Harry's favorite jumper. "I'll play along." He picks a frame off Harry's desk, a sleek black one he can't say he's ever seen before. The man walks back over to him and holds it in front of his face. "I'm Zayn Malik. Your boyfriend of three years," he says, making Harry's eyes widen. "How dare you forget me!" he cries in faux-outrage.
Harry blinks in shock at the picture of him and this man - Zayn - with their arms around each other, huge smiles on their faces. He has no idea how it's possible, because he's absolutely not ever seen Zayn in his life.
Harry stares at Zayn, fear slowly filling his stomach. This has to be a joke, or he's going crazy. He really doesn't want to be going crazy, though. He imagines that could put a large damper on his life plans.
Zayn slowly looks more and more concerned, eyebrows drawing together and lips pursing. "You really don't remember me?" he asks, voice quiet and hurt.
"I'm sorry," Harry says, because he's Harry. Of course he'd be the one apologizing when he comes home to a random man in his home claiming to be his boyfriend.
"If you're kidding right now, Harry, I'm going to fucking kill you," Zayn says. "I'm getting really scared, here. It's not funny."
"I'm not kidding," Harry says. "I'm sorry, but I've never seen you in my life."
Maybe Zayn is crazy. Maybe he's been stalking Harry, learning where he lives and when he works and then got into his flat and made it look like he's been part of Harry;s life. He'll probably make Harry believe him and then he's going to kill him in his sleep. Harry's too young to die, though, so he can't let that happen.
"Um," Harry says, backing away slowly, "you can stay here - or don't - but I'm going to go call my mate, I'll be back in a sec."
"Louis?" Zayn asks, perking up a bit. "Are you calling Louis?"
"How do you know Louis?" Harry demands.
"Harry!" Zayn exclaims, looking incredibly helpless. "I'm your fucking boyfriend, I obviously know your best mate."
"Right." Harry nods curtly, slowly backing out of the room. "Boyfriend. Knows my best mate. Got it." He smiles weakly, turning away and rushing to the living room.
After digging his phone out of his tight pocket, he dials Louis as fast as he can and starts pacing around the coffee table.
"Hello, lovely!" Louis chirps.
"Do you know anyone named Zayn Malik?" Harry asks hurridly.
"I'm great thanks, how are you?" Louis replies flatly, before sighing. "Of course I know Zayn, Harry. You've been dating for three years. I may not be the best friend in the world, but I'm not that shit."
Harry pales. If Louis knows, that means Zayn's telling the truth, and Harry really doesn't remember his supposed boyfriend. "He's in my bed," Harry says, voice shaking. "He showed me a picture of us and everything but - but, I've never seen him before."
"Of course you have," Louis says.
Harry peeks his head out from the living room, watching Zayn move around the kitchen like he belongs there. "I haven't though," Harry argues. "I'm scared. What if I'm going crazy?"
"Okay, calm down," Louis says, suddenly concerned. "You really don't remember him at all?"
"No! I came home and he was in my bed and when he woke up he was talking about making me dinner and - and I had no idea who he was! He looked so sad, Lou. I don't know what to do!"
"Alright, relax," Louis says. "I'll be there in 20 minutes okay?"
"Okay," Harry says. "Hurry, please."
After a quick goodbye, Harry watches Zayn quietly before finally stepping into the kitchen, leaning against the counter and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I really do like that chicken," he mutters quietly, not knowing what else to say.
"I know," Zayn says, not looking up. "You made it for me on our first date."
Harry feels a little guilty at that. He can't imagine how sad he'd be if one day his boyfriend had no idea who he was. But - Harry also wouldn't even have a boyfriend, probably. He hasn't had the guts to tell his friends or family he's gay since he figured it out when he was thirteen, so he hasn't had a relationship in nearly seven years because of it.
"I'm sorry, Zayn," he says. "I wish I could remember."
"It's not your fault, Harry," Zayn says, turning to face him and crossing his arms over his chest. "You're not choosing not to remember me. You just don't. We can't really do anything about that right now."
"Yeah," Harry whispers, staring down at his feet. He's a little terrified - or a lot. Something is wrong with him. He doesn't remember someone who was apparently a big part of his life for three years.
"Hey," Zayn says softly, suddenly right in front of him with a gentle hand on his elbow. "Don't blame yourself, and don't worry too much until we know what's going on, okay?"
Harry nods, and Zayn smiles at him. Zayn really is gorgeous, and maybe if it's true that Zayn is his boyfriend, Harry wouldn't mind. Zayn seems incredibly nice, making him his favorite chicken and being understanding about everything going on.
Harry licks his lips absentmindedly, and Zayns eyes flicker down to watch the movement. He leans in slowly, soft brown eyes locked on Harrys own green ones. He stops just before their lips touch, breath puffing against Harry's cheeks.
"Is this okay?" Zayn whispers.
Harry nods shakily and Zayn kisses him slow and soft. His head goes fuzzy almost instantly, skin tingling where Zayn has a hand just under the hem of his shirt on his hips, pushing him slightly into the counter. Harry hesitantly wraps his arms around Zayns neck just as Zayns tongue slips into his mouth.
The door slams open then, and Harry barely has time to register it before Louis shouts "I knew it!" making them jump apart like they've been shocked.
Harry stares wide eyed at Louis who's grinning like a mad man with Niall and Liam on either side, looking guilty. "What?" Harry turns to Zayn, who's staring down at his feet, looking very guilty. "What's going on?" Harry asks, looking back to Louis.
"This, Harold, is Zayn," Louis says happily, slinging an arm around Zayn's shoulders. Zayn shoves him off though, rolling his eyes. "He's not your boyfriend, he's in my acting class, and I asked him to do this because I knew you were gay, but you're an awful person and didn't tell me."
Zayn looks up sharply, eyes wide. "You said --"
"How -- the photo? How the fuck?" Harry interrupts.
"Photoshop is a wonderful thing, love," Louis replies, a smug grin on his face.
Zayn huffs, then, storming off down the hall. Harry blinks a few times, before shaking his head and going to his room. It wasn't the best idea, because that's where he finds Zayn in just his underwear. Really, did Louis have to use the most attractive person in class? He groans, turning around. "I'm sorry, I'll just --"
"No, wait," Zayn interrupts, pulling up his jeans and buttoning them. "Could I talk to you for a mo?" Harry nods and sits on the edge of the bed, clasping his hands together on his lap, and after a moments hesitation Zayn sits as well. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Zayn says, rubbing at his thighs as he sighs. "He told me it was just a prank, like freak you out and make you think you're going insane. If I knew he was outing you I wouldn't have done it."
"Don't worry about it," Harry says, smiling shyly. "That's just Louis I guess. I'm not even mad, mostly just relieved - and a little shocked. I was too scared to tell them. Like, I knew they'd be fine with it, I just didn't want them to start treating me differently. I guess if they already knew for so long they won't be treating me different after this." He smiles, huffing out a laugh. "Leave it to Louis to out me in the most dramatic way rather than just asking."
"Yeah, can't say I expect much different from him," Zayn agrees, laughing. He coughs a moment later, looking around. "Right, I should probably find my shirt and leave you alone."
"You didn't even finish making my dinner, though," Harry teases. "What a shit boyfriend."
"Oi, I'm the best boyfriend you've ever had," Zayn laughs, slipping on a wife beater, followed by a dark blue button up t-shirt he leaves undone.
"You're the only boyfriend I've ever had," Harry replies, smiling.
"I'm honored you picked me to be the first then," Zayn grins.
Harry laughs, shaking his head. He stands in front of Zayn, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. "I didn't pick you," he says, running his eyes down Zayn's body, "but you'll do."
Zayn's smile mirrors Harry's, and they stay like that, smiling stupidly at each other until Zayn's leaning in again and -
"Are you guys done flirting now?" Louis asks, popping his head in the doorway. "I'd like to discuss Harry's face when we caught - oh." He blinks, face blank. "Did I interrupt again?"
"Louis," Harry groans.
"Sorry!" Louis calls, running back down the hall. Niall and Liam's laughter follow, and Harry pouts.
Zayn smiles, nudging him in the shoulder with his own. "C'mon, lets go talk to him before his head explodes."
Harry pouts more, because he'd rather be kissing like they were going to - or, he hopes that's where that was going - but if they're going to talk, that means Zayn is staying longer, which is quite good too.