Oh, Won't You Let Me Burn (Won't You Let Us Conquer) [Zarry]

Chapter Fourteen | Apollo, His Sun

"Mm, you smell really good," Harry hums sleepily in his arms as he nuzzles further into Zayn's side, "and you're so comfy and warm. Don't leave."

Zayn smiles as he peers down at him, peers down at Apollo's pretty pink lips that are pulled into a pleading pout. "Clingy, are we?" He teases, running his fingers through his soft tresses.

"When it comes to you?" The golden boy mumbles in response, not seeming the least bit offended. "Embarrassingly so."

It draws a mirthful laugh out of him. "Well, you still have papers to grade, remember? And I have a meeting in the morning that I have to prepare for," he reminds him gently.

His expression only grows more petulant though. "Don't you always?"

"Don't sound so pitiful," Zayn chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. "I'll miss you too, Styles."

His mouth spilts into a winsome grin.

"There are those dimples that I adore so much," Zayn immediately coos at the sight of them, but Harry turns his head before he can poke at either. "What?" He asks curiously, eyebrows crinkling.

He both sees and feels Harry shrug against him. "I'm just still getting used to you saying things like that to me."

He lifts an eyebrow at his words. "I can go back to being mean if you want?"

Harry looks back up then, his eyes dancing with amusement and something else. "You won't," he declares confidently.

"Don't be so sure," Zayn rags, tugging on one of his curls. "We should have lunch tomorrow," he suggests, "if you're free."

"Oh?" Harry's wearing his stupidly smug smile now. "Are you asking me on a date, Zaynie?"

"If that's what you want to call it," he replies to him with a shrug. "To be honest, I wasn't really thinking of it that way."

"Oh," he mumbles, sounding more than a little disappointed.

And Zayn resists the urge to grin at how adorable he is. "But when we go out together on Saturday, it's definitely a date then," he finishes.

He's almost certain that he feels Apollo's heartbeat speed up at the prospect. "I'll be there," he softly tells him right away.

"When?"

"Whenever, wherever," the golden boy answers easily, "like I said before, as long as you're there, I wanna be there too."

Zayn's heart chooses to start hammering as well at that point, but he covers it up with a roll of the eyes, and, "Sap," he accuses playfully, though he really doesn't mind it.

-

His mobile rings while he's making adjustments to his game design at work the following day.

He lets it go to voicemail the first time, because outside interruptions are the last thing that he needs right now, but releases a groan and picks it up without bothering to look at the caller ID the second time, once the ringing starts back up again and doesn't stop.

"Yeah?" He speaks into his phone distractedly, holding it up with his shoulder as he continues to type.

He's unexpectedly greeted by a very familiar deep voice that still manages to send shivers up his spine every time, even now. "Hey, I got us a table. Are you almost here?"

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. "What?" He asks. "Almost wh– Fuck," Zayn cuts himself off as he suddenly remembers. They were supposed to meet for lunch.

"And you always call me a scatterbrain."

He winces at that, taking the phone in his hand and sliding his chair away from his desk. "Shit, Harry, I am so sorry," he sincerely apologises as he tugs on one of his ears. "I completely lost track of time."