chance connection |2| [zarry]

onehundredsixtyeight

the wife💛
12:32
Landed

13:09
In the car
Be home soon

my love
13:15
alright
want me to heat up some soup?

the wife💛
13:20
Yes, please, I'm starving

🌱

"Harry!" Freddie shrieks, throwing himself at Harry almost before the door is fully open, and grabs his coat, clinging.

Harry lets his bag drop from his shoulder, affection coursing through him at once, and picks him up properly, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Hi, baby," he says, kissing Freddie's cheek and then again, lingering. "Missed you so much," he says, pressing his nose to Freddie's hair. He smells a bit stale because he's due for his bath tomorrow, and like their washing powder, and so much like home. Harry hadn't realised how much he has missed the smell until just now, how much he had gotten used to whatever it was that made up home to him now; Freddie and Zain and food and paint and Louis, too, probably. He hugs Freddie tightly, kissing his cheek again.

"You have to look at my painting! Daddy put it up in his room! It's great!" Freddie says, unbothered that he is squished against Harry's chest and sounding like Harry hasn't been away for two weeks. His fingers curl into Harry's sweater tightly, though, and he doesn't loosen his grip when Harry adjusts him slightly.

"Let me wash my hands and say hi to Zain first, baby," Harry says, toeing his boots off and pulling his coat off without having to set him down.

"But Zain is cooking and it'll be really quick!" Freddie protests, clinging when Harry bends down to pick up his bag.

"Alright," Harry gives in too easily, kissing Freddie's hair. "I'll just say hi to Zain."

"Hi," Zain says, startling Harry.

Zain grins at him, that slight smirk he gets when he manages to get away with something, leaning against the wall by the kitchen. "Food's ready when you are," he adds and it's so familiar and he looks so comfortable and perfect standing there in a ripped t-shirt and one of Harry's jeans that Harry wants to cry and he can't even properly kiss him because Freddie is clinging and doesn't seem like he's ready to let go any time soon.

"I'll just go upstairs for a second," Harry says and adjusts Freddie slightly so he can at least press a chaste kiss to Zain's lips. "Hi, missed you."

"You too, babes," Zain says, stroking Harry's cheek. "And you," he adds, pulling on Freddie's foot. "He is hungry and tired, let him eat before you show him everything he's missed."

"Just my painting," Freddie says, frowning at Zain like he was being unreasonable.

"Just the painting," Zain repeats, shaking his foot again.

"Yes," Freddie huffs, turning his back to Zain and tugging on Harry's hair.

Zain rolls his eyes, tugging on the bottom of Harry's sweater gently. "See you in a bit."

"Yea," Harry says, adjusting Freddie slightly and carrying him up the stairs. He drops his bag on the bed and sets Freddie down on the bathroom counter, despite his protests.

"Just two seconds, baby," he says, slapping water on his face.

"But you said you'd look at my paining."

"Baby," Harry sighs. "I also said I needed to wash my hands."

"Yea," Freddie sighs, petulant, kicking his legs.

"Yea," Harry echoes, amused. The cold water leaves him feeling somewhat more awake, and he pulls his sweater over his head, dumping it into the laundry basket.

"Alright," he says, drying his face. "We can look at your painting now."

"Yes, finally," Freddie says, jumping off the counter and pulling Harry along by his hand.

Harry hasn't been in what is now Louis's room since Louis moved in. It's weird stepping into a room that looks so much like Louis, somehow. He's got one of his suits handing from the wardrobe but the rest is a mess of Louis track suits and magazines and several of Freddie's toys.

"Look!" Freddie says, spreading his arms widely.

Harry has to smile at his dramatic gesturing.

"Isn't it awesome?" Freddie asks.

"It's pretty cool, baby," Harry says, grinning down at him. The paining is a mess of colours, as it usually is with Freddie, but there are a few distinct figures he can make out. "Well done," he says stroking Freddie's hair. "Did you have fun painting it?"

"Yes! Loads. I did it like Zain with just the colours but then I added us, see, because just colours is boring," Freddie explains.

"Yea," Harry agrees, amused. "Thank you for showing it to me."

"Zain said you looked at it on Instagram," Freddie says, letting himself be herded out of Louis's room. "But it's better when it's real."

"It is," Harry agrees, watching him jump down the steps.

"Yea. I already had soup but it was ok. Zain said I can have dessert while you eat, that's cool."

"What are you having?" Harry asks as Freddie hops into the kitchen and climbs into his chair.

"Cake!" Freddie answers, pulling a plate towards him. He must have prepared it and just been waiting for Harry because he starts eating right away, humming to himself.

Zain looks up from his phone, smiling when Harry kisses him, and pushes a bowl towards Harry.

"Thanks," Harry says, dunking some bread into it and leaning his head on Zain's shoulder for a moment. He barely slept during the flight and exhaustion is catching up to him now, with warm food and Zain right there for him to touch.

"Eat your soup, sweetheart. Then you can go to sleep," Zain says quietly, kissing Harry's head.

"Yea," Harry says, straightening. Freddie is still humming happily, eating his cake, but he is watching Harry avidly. It makes him feel guilty for leaving even though he knows he shouldn't.

"What have you done all morning, then, baby?" he asks. Zain snorts next to him, which is answer enough.

🌱

"Babe," Zain says gently, cleanings Harry's things off the bed. He sits down beside him when Harry doesn't move, still passed out from exhaustion, and shakes his shoulder slightly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Sweetheart."

Harry grunts.

"Go lie down properly," Zain says, brushing the hair off Harry's forehead. "This can't be comfortable, babe."

Harry groans and turns around, making a big production of moving up the bed without opening his eyes. Zain watches him, amused, helping him shrug off his towel robe and pulls the blankets up around him.

He settles into the bed beside Harry. He probably shouldn't, it's not that late and he still needs to get ready for bed himself, but Harry is soft and cuddly and he hasn't touched him in ages and he's at least half-awake at the moment.

"Missed you," he says again, kissing him deeply.

"Sex?" Harry mutters against Zain's lips, his hands limp on Zain's shoulders.

"Tomorrow, sweetheart," Zain says, amused, pecking his lips. "You can't even keep your eyes open."

"Missed you," Harry pouts, blinking his eyes open for a second.

"You, too, my love," Zain answers, kissing him again. "So much. Now go to sleep. I'll still be here tomorrow."

"Yea," Harry answers, nosing at Zain's cheek, and curling into him. Zain pulls him closer, stroking Harry's cheek and watches him until his breath evens out and he starts snoring. He's even missed that, the way Harry is noisy even in his sleep and the way he takes up too much space and grabs onto Zain even in his sleep.

🌱

meh