never enough [zarry]

6

Zain manages to avoid Harry for two days before Harry corners him after class, crossing his arms. He looks lovely with his chin in the air, looking down at Zain.

"Hey," Zain says awkwardly.

"Hello Zain," Harry says, narrowing his eyes.

Zain fidgets. He's suddenly very aware of the fact that he hasn't done more than respond to Harry's greeting with a mumble in days, rushing from class as soon as it was over, but that he was still wearing the new jeans Harry had bought him and using the laptop.

"Come," Harry says, taking Zain's hand and pulling him along. Zain tries very hard not to feel like he's five-years old, getting dragged to his scolding.

He lets himself be pulled all the way to the yard where Harry gently pushes him to sit on one of the benches.

"You have been avoiding me," Harry says, crossing his arms again, hip tilted, and frowning down at Zain. "Why?"

"Er," Zain says, avoiding Harry's eyes. He ends up staring at Harry's perfectly lovely legs instead and has to look past Harry's hip to the side.

"That's not an answer," Harry says. "Do you like me, Zain?"

"I do," Zain says, looking back up at Harry. He likes him so much. He was so pretty and kind and generous and his taste in films was awful but his laugh was so lovely and he was so clever... Zain likes him a lot.

"I just-," he says, watching Harry's frown deepen. "Harry," he says, sitting up slightly. "You can't keep buying me things. It's not ok."

"You like your clothes," Harry says, his gaze dropping to Zain's jeans pointedly. "And I can buy what I want for whom I want."

"Yea, but," Zain says.

"There is no but," Harry frowns.

"Yea, there is. You're very sweet, you know," Zain says, fascinated to watch Harry's cheeks flush. "But you can't just spend your money on me. It's not ok. I can never return any of it."

"But I don't want you to," Harry frowns, perplexed.

"You just can't, Harry," Zain sighs, a bit frustrated.

"But I want to."

"But what do you get out of it? Because I can't give you anything in return," Zain sighs, a bit frustrated.

"I don't want anything. I just want you happy," Harry says quietly, his shoulders sagging slightly as he pouts at Zain. "It's ok if you don't want to spend time with me anymore," he adds.

"I do want to spend time with you," Zain says weakly. "You're lovely."

"Then do," Harry says quietly, his cheeks flushed. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Zain says weakly. He misses Harry's apartment but there was no denying that he misses Harry as well; his bad jokes and weak puns. The way he frowned when they worked on their presentation. "But you gotta promise to stop buying stuff for me. Or paying for my dinner."

"No," Harry frowns. "I've been feeding you for three weeks and you're much less pale! And it was good I replaced your laptop, you aren't as stressed in class anymore."

"Harry," Zain says slowly. "Did you break my laptop on purpose?"

"No!" Harry lies, eyes darting to the side. "But it's good it happened like it did!"

"Harry," Zain says but Harry is pretending to be deal to his name again, stroking his hand over his dress and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Come on then, Zain. We need to go over our presentation and I ordered food. I don't want it getting cold," he says, taking Zain's hand and pulling.

"Harry," Zain says again but Harry has his chin in the air and that stubborn frown on his face.

"A gift is a gift, Zain," he says, tugging Zain along. "You cannot refuse."

💫

"You like me, right?" Harry says quietly.

He's very close when Zain turns his head, his breath tickling Zain's skin.

"Yea," Zain breathes.

"Good," Harry nods and straddles him, leaning down to kiss him.

Harry tastes like the curry they had for dinner and like his hot chocolate, sighing softly when they tongues meet. He's so lovely, Zain wants to keep kissing him until his lips chafe.

"Zain," Harry gasps, rocking his hips down against Zain. "Zain," he whines, twisting his hips and pressing himself against the bulge in Zain's jeans before leaning back down to lick into Zain's mouth, his hips pressing down and down.

Zain presses his lips to his jaw, helpless with arousal and want and the need to hold Harry, to pull him closer.

"Zain," Harry gasps, rocking down and down, his mouth dropped open and his breath hitching. His cheeks flush and his eyelashes flutter against his skin and Zain doesn't think he's ever been this turned on by so little, just a bit of friction and Harry's lovely face, flushed pink.

Harry comes with a high-pitched whimper, quickly, rocking down almost frantically. He slumps forward, his head on Zain's shoulder and Zain wishes he would just keep moving. It wouldn't take long, not long at all, pressing desperate kisses to the side of Harry's head and stroking his back.

Harry tilts his head up, pressing his mouth to Zain's, lips slack but patting when Zain licks into his mouth, his hand kneading the flesh on Harry's hip.

"You can jerk off if you want," Harry says quietly, still out of breath, scooting back slightly to give Zain space, his lips hot on Zain's jaw. "Just don't get any on my dress. Or the couch. It's really hard to clean."

Harry kisses him again and Zain's weak to resist, pushing his hand into his jeans and wondering why it was even hot to be told to not stain the couch. He groans, so close already.

"Come on," Harry whispers, his lips soft on Zain's jaw, and Zain comes, groaning. He stares at Harry, trying to catch his breath, his hand still in his pants.

Harry smiles at him, running a hand through his hair to fix it, straightening his dress somewhat where Zain must have pulled it.

"You're staying the night, right?" he asks, like Zain has any will power or the strength to get up right now. "You don't sleep well in your room and you have work tomorrow."

Zain nods weakly, watching Harry get off his lap, reaching under his dress and wrinkling his nose slightly, pulling down his knickers. Zain groans, his cock twitching uselessly.

"Give me a moment and you can have the shower," Harry says, unconcerned. "And put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket, don't sneak them home."

He walks away, his dress swishing, and Zain watches him dumbly, wondering if maybe this was some sort of elaborate dream. Maybe he was in a coma, dreaming up the perfect life.

He pulls his hand from his pants, wiping it on his t-shirt with a grimace, and awkwardly waits for Harry to leave the bathroom.

💫

Errrrrr...?