chance connection |2| [zarry]

onehundredeightyfive

"Hey," Harry says when Zain starts to wake up, scrunching his nose up and scratching his cheek, turning onto his side towards Harry, all without opening his eyes. Harry is so stupidly in love that even the red pillow marks on Zain's cheek look endearing.

Zain grunts in acknowledgement, reaching out to pull Harry closer, fingers digging into Harry's waist.

"Louis will be gone for a week tomorrow, right?" Harry asks, kissing his stubbly cheek softly.

"So?" Zain mutters, still not opening his eyes. He's stopped complaining that Harry has something to talk about as soon as Zain wakes up, because by then he will have been awake a while usually, but he's still not the most eloquent in the morning.

"Wanna go out on a date the weekend after?"

"You asking this now?" Zain yawns, squinting one eye open to look at Harry. "Sure," he adds right away, though, touching Harry's cheek.

"We're gonna have a week with the kid, I wanna spend some time just with you after," Harry says, making his eyes large even though Zain wouldn't say no.

"Alright, babe," Zain says, looking at Harry in amusement and pressing their lips together. "It's a date."

Harry snorts, pushing his face into Zain's neck. "We can talk about a holiday, then. May is so soon and I'm gonna miss you so much when I'm abroad."

"I'm gonna miss you, too," Zain answers, rolling them over so that he's looking down at Harry, poking at his dimple.

"I might have invited Safaa," Harry admits with a frown, remembering. He hadn't really thought about it, but now he's not sure what Zain would think about it. "Because your mum said you invited her to stay during the summer."

"Yea," Zain says slowly, "We can talk about that when she's here. If she is," he runs his hands down Harry's arm and links their fingers, leaning down to kiss him again. "Sex or are we getting up?"

"Sex," Harry says, rolling them over and sitting up to grab the lube. "What kind of question is that?"

"I take it back then," Zain grins, squeezing Harry's arse. He passively watches Harry's face, rubbing his thumbs over Harry's belly. "Your hair grows so quickly, babe," he says apropos of nothing, like he looses his filter whenever sex is on the table.

"Says you," Harry gasps, his mouth dropping open slightly at the sensation of his fingers breaching him. He blows the hair off his forehead. "Your hair grows like weeds."

"Weed?" Zain grins up at him, pressing his finger against Harry's hole alongside his fingers and making Harry loose his rhythm a bit. His other hand strokes Harry's chest, his palm covering the butterfly on his belly.

"Weeds," Harry hisses, emphasising the s, sinking down into their fingers slightly, and reaching forward with his free hand to run his fingers through Zain's hair, trusting Zain's hand on his belly to keep his balance. "This is what you think about now?" he whispers.

"At least it's not fish again," Zain says, pressing his lips softly to Harry's, making Harry laugh lightly. "Love your hair. You good, babe?"

"Yea," Harry says, licking his lips, and pressing a kiss to the corner of Zain's mouth. "I'm not gonna cut it before I have to again. You like that?"

"Yea," Zain says, grunting when Harry sinks down onto him. "You pull the stupidest face, babe," he says, having lost his filter again.

"You should see your face," Harry says haltingly, bracing himself on Zain's chest and rolling his hips, his head dropping forward at the sensation. He can never get enough of Zain inside him, of feeling so full and like it's never quite enough, chasing it while Zain looks at him with parted lips and soft eyes, like he never wants to look away.