chance connection |1| [zarry] (✔️)

onehundredthirtythree

Zain wakes slowly, blinking against the light. They should probably  remember to close the curtains if they for once got up after the sun had fully risen. Harry's already awake, mouthing at Zain's ribs like he has nothing better to do.

"Morning, babe," Zain mutters sleepily, running his hand through Harry's hair.

"I like Saturdays," Harry says, his lips pressed to Zain's skin. "You'd think we'd get to wake up together more often."

"Usually the monster is running around," Zain says. "Or you decide to be a monster and jog."

"Yea," Harry says, darting his tongue out and pressing it against the side to Zain's ribs, running a hand over his belly and scratching lightly at his skin.

Zain rubs his back gently, stroking his fingers through his hair.

Harry noses at his skin, kissing Zain's skin and rubbing his hands over his belly and down his side, sliding his hand into Zain's pants and shooting him a look.

"You want something, babe?" Zain asks with a smirk, poking at his dimple.

"Sex," Harry says flatly, shooting Zain an unimpressed look.

"What's that again?" Zain grins, pushing the hair off Harry's forehead. "I think I forgot."

"I just love how that implies sex with me is forgettable," Harry says with an eyeroll, mouthing at the hair on Zain's belly. "But if you'd rather not, be my guest."

"Nah," Zain grins, stroking Harry's hair and pulling him up towards him, kissing him deeply. He rolls them over, settling between Harry's legs.

It's always easy opening him up now, and he sounds so sweet, sighing and whining and begging for more. Zain noses at his skin, kissing him.

"Shush, babe," Zain says, cupping Harry's face and kissing him deeply.

Harry leans into it, whining, dropping his legs further apart, intoxicating in this eagerness as always, pulling on Zain's shoulders and hair. He is used to it now, manages to get the condom on despite Harry's best attempts to distract him.

"Lovely, be good," Zain says quietly, kissing the corner of his mouth and pushing into him carefully.

Harry turns into the kiss, touching Zain's cheek with shaking hands. Zain has to kiss him again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and tonguing the soft flesh, rocking into him. He feels breathless with affection and want, like he always does, like even being this close to Harry isn't enough. He bites at the soft flesh at the corner of Harry's mouth, pressing his tongue to the sloppy stubbles of Harry's beard.

"Don't make fun," Harry gasps, clutching at Zain's shoulders.

"M not," Zain mutters, nipping at Harry's cheek and trying his best to knock the air from Harry's lungs.

"You always tease — oh — tease," Harry gasps again, arching up slightly. Zain lifts himself up slightly, grinding into him and watching the way his mouth falls open. "About my beard," Harry finishes breathlessly.

"Your stubble, babe," Zain corrects gently, rubbing a hand over Harry's chest and flicking his nipple in the way that always makes him gasp so prettily.

"See?" Harry says breathlessly, catching Zain's hand and holding it against his chest.

"It's cause you're so easy, sweetheart," Zain says haltingly, pressing his face into Harry's neck and picking up his pace, freeing his hand from under Harry's to stroke his belly and his thigh, rocking into him.

"Love you," Harry blurts breathlessly, jerking himself off until he comes with a shudder. He clenches tightly around Zain and Zain bites at his shoulder, pushing into him and shuddering with the sensation as he comes.