"How am I trouble?" I had asked him afterward, to which he replied:
"You just are, believe me."
I didn't quite understand what he meant by that exactly, and in my honest opinion I thought he was just as troublesome as I was, but I didn't bother asking him to elaborate on it. Instead I was relishing in the fact that I had won him over in my mind. And whatever it was that had caused Zayn to run from me the night before was seemingly no longer in the way, apparently, and my first experience with a guy was one for the books; one I'd definitely never ever forget.
And my desire to be with women felt more distant.
And it didn't end there, either. It happened again with Zayn later that night when I was trying to sleep. He was outside the guest house throwing tiny pebbles at my bedroom window at four in the morning, stoned and in his Spider-Man pajamas. I had lifted up the window and laughed seeing him like that, and he climbed through it. Immediately Zayn had me down hard on the bed, planting wet kisses all over my sleepy body and we sucked each other off one more time before he crept back inside the house to his bedroom.
Zayn was of the mindset that Gio didn't know about him because he hadn't exactly told him about his sexuality, and therefore he didn't want it getting out, so he made me swear that we would keep it private so he made me leave his room in the middle of the night to avoid suspicion.
I agreed to it, sort of finding it to be much more exciting that way. Also, I barely got enough sleep before work in the morning, which was already becoming a common theme for me that summer.
Tired eyes were the death of me.
I went off to work in long jean shorts with the hems rolled up and a plain white t-shirt with aviators on to cover the subtle purple tinge under my eyes from sleeplessness, hopping myself up on four espresso shots to snap into it. I spent all morning gathering barrels full of ripe green grapes, lifting them into the back of Gio's truck one by one with one of the guys who worked on the vineyard line, Alessio, and he barely spoke any English but I liked him; he was polite and worked hard.
Looking down at my arms as they flexed, I noticed that they were getting much more jacked from all the heavy, physical labor I was doing. And apparently Zayn noticed it as well, because he then appeared behind me with Marco out of nowhere driving the golf cart in the late morning. He proceeded to stop the cart and jumped out, moving by me before grabbing the truck keys out of my back pocket. He paused briefly and clutched onto my bicep, squeezing firmly.
"Getting a good work out," he commented.
I smirked in response as he made his way toward the driver's seat of the truck and slid in, starting it up. "Who needs a gym, right?" I asked Zayn as he leaned out of the window.
"Not you, and especially not if you can get in some late night cardio," he insinuated, but I knew he didn't mean going out for a run, which made me blush slightly.
"So...why are you stealing the truck?" I asked upon finally realizing what he was doing.
"You're gonna go with Marco down to the wine cellar. He wants your help with the new batch," Zayn explained, motioning over to Marco who was now standing behind me, a hand resting on my shoulder.
Soon after Marco had me down in the cellar where the rows and rows of various oak barrels sat aging for many long months. It was probably my favorite part of the winery, actually. Other than location and grape type, I always thought it was interesting how they developed the wines with all of their different hints of flavors and aromas. They came from aroma compounds, or stereoisomers, which were released during fermentation, in addition to the wine soaking in the toasted oak itself. This particular one had been aging for six months and the flavor was super robust and smokey.
He showed me how to pump the wine for barrel transfer to the tanks, ensuring that it was done carefully as to not disrupt the structure of the wine, and as it started siphoning he looked over at me idly with this curious look in his hazel eyes.
"So...you and Zayn hm?"
"Mhm..." I murmured coolly.
Marco simpered. "He seems like he's in an oddly good mood."
"Does he?" I echoed, tight lipped.
I could sense that he was subtly prying me for more information. "What's that all about?"
"No idea," I lied, playing it off; but he knew better.
I smiled to myself, small and slight. I just didn't want to make it into a big thing because it had only been a day. "We're just having a bit of fun."
Marco was persistent. "It's not just that though, is it?"
I shifted my weight between my feet where I stood, looking down at the barrel in thought of how to explain how I felt exactly, not fully trusting that it wouldn't get back to Zayn. "Well no...I guess not. I mean, I also really like him a lot."
His lips curved into a dreamy smile.
"Ahh...summer love is in the air," he declared.
My eyes widened at the mention of the L word. No, that was too much and far too soon to say for me. And it certainly was not my intention, either. The L word wasn't the type of word you just said; it held a lot of meaning and it was so serious and real and scary; and completely full of terror.
I couldn't fall for Zayn, at least not like that. "Alright calm down, that's quite a stretch," I replied with a hint of nervous laughter.
"Sure."
"It's just a summer fling," I further clarified as we finished emptying the barrel and began preparing for it to be cleaned.
Marco spoke as he worked. "Here's the thing about Zayn. He likes to act tough and unattached. I personally think he started putting some walls up after Tricia passed away...but trust me, he's far more emotional than people realize."
"I get it. I can be like that as well. With keeping people at arms' length, I mean. It's not like I don't have a heart it's just..." I trailed off, feeling overwhelmed in the moment and a bit unsure of myself, knowing deep down that I could be rather sensitive at times and suddenly I felt anxious.
"Just make sure you're on the same page, that's all I'm saying," Marco interjected.
"With?"
"With what you're doing. I wouldn't want to see either of you get hurt," he continued.
That was the absolute last thing I wanted or needed and it kind of concerned me that Marco was already thinking ahead, preparing for the worst, as if we could develop those intense, deep kind of feelings for each other in only a month or so left. But maybe that's just the type of person he was because of what he had been through himself with his ex or maybe he was just looking out for friends who he considered family.
But I understood that, however, I was still pretty sure that Marco was overthinking the whole thing. And I didn't want to think about it either.
"That won't happen. I'm not a serious relationship type of guy. At least not right now. Plus we're going to be doing different things in the fall. Zayn knows that."
Marco just nodded in return and said nothing else about the conversation, and for some reason I felt a little off center after we spoke.
* * * * *
I shook those thoughts away by lunch time and was in the main house kitchen grabbing a turkey avocado wrap to go and I took another one for Zayn, traipsing through the back acres of his yard as I made my way to the horse stables because I knew that's exactly where Zayn would be.
Slinking inside holding the brown bagged lunch in my right hand, I snatched a fist full of hay that was laying on the ground and approached Zayn, who sure enough was in the first stable beside Cool, brushing her white mane of hair.
"What did one horse say to the other?" I greeted him with one of my stupid, signature jokes, motioning down with my head to the hay that I was holding. "Hay."
Zayn tried not to chuckle, but I knew he wanted to. "Oh here come the dad jokes again..." he teased, rolling his eyes. "And that one was fucking terrible."
I flashed him a dimpled grin. "Don't act like they're not funny."
"You're right, you're hilarious..." Zayn replied, pausing. "...said no one ever."
But I carried on anyway, ignoring him as I began eating. "So Zayn...do you know where horses live?"
I personally found it amusing how Zayn always pretended to be unamused by me, taking a bite from the wrap I had handed to him.
"In Neiiiighhhh-borhoods," I answered cheekily.
He laughed anyway. "Good thing your passion is football and not stand up comedy."
I tossed out a wry smile and we rapidly scarfed down the rest of our lunch, continuing to enjoy the way that Zayn and I continued to tease each other in our natural banter. But I especially liked the way it was now; there was a shift in the energy, less mystery and more knowing, yet that ever-present sexual tension. Chemistry. And now that I knew what Zayn felt like, it was even stronger.
I shuffled over to Cool and began softly petting her, scratching gently at her muzzle while she whinnied faintly, snorting and brushing the side of her head against my hand.
Zayn's eyes danced as he watched me. "Do you wanna go for a ride?"
I pressed my lips together in a tight line and tried as hard as I could not to make a sex joke.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, pervert," said Zayn observantly.
"Hey now...you helped put it there," I remarked smartly. "So that's where it lives; deep down in the dingiest gutter...where it's all dirty...and wet..."
But Zayn didn't bother dignifying what I said with a response, even with the mischievous glint in my eye that I knew he saw. Instead he just licked at his bottom lip and shot out a look before walking up beside me. He slowly grabbed onto my jaw with one hand, clenching it slightly and leaned in to me, as if he was about to plant a supple kiss upon my lips, but he didn't.
Zayn just paused there instead, stirring as he rubbed the bed of his thumb across my bottom lip, causing me to tremble slightly beneath his touch. And then he smacked me across the cheek playfully with his hand, smirking.
"Ugh," I grunted breathily, my cheek stinging a bit while I looked into Zayn's wild eyes.
He was testing me to see what I liked and well, that was somehow a new turn on for me, and I certainly wouldn't be mad if he did it again.
Something else I observed when it came to Zayn was that he always looked like he was taking mental notes, almost as if he was studying everything around him - actions, reactions, body language - now it seemed like he was even studying me and it made my skin flush, feeling warm.
Hot, actually.
I had to shake it off and decided to take him up on the offer to ride Cool, so Zayn proceeded to help me saddle her up and I hopped right on. I had ridden horses before but not in awhile, and I had almost forgotten just how much I loved them until then. And she was such a sweet tempered girl.
Zayn lead as I rode and we strolled up along the trails and then back down through the fields, just making casual conversation between the two of us. We spent a long stretch of time discussing music the most, something we were both knowledgeable and passionate about. I learned that Zayn's favorite genre was R&B but like me, he was very much interested in anything and everything music related.
We both agreed that the best Beatles album was The White Album and Zayn's favorite was John Lennon while mine was Paul McCartney. We both agreed that Prince was the pop legend and while my guilty pleasure jam was anything by Britney Spears, his was Brandy and Monica, but he clarified that he didn't feel particularly guilty about anything he liked.
And we both loved Shania Twain, which was so random to have in common but it made me smile.
I also discovered that Zayn even wrote and recorded his own music in some of his spare time and I didn't want to ask him because it seemed personal, but I wondered if he'd ever show me something he wrote one day.
Then it got me thinking about my own singing and musical abilities. I mentioned how I had thought about dabbling more in music before and the second I told him Zayn had immediately encouraged me to go for it, saying that I was given the gift of music and a talent like mine should be nurtured.
No one had ever said that to me before.
When we finally returned back to the stables I hopped off of Cool and found myself staring longingly at Zayn, admiring him as he tended to her and I already felt like a fiend, already aching to be closer to him again. And then my thoughts turned introspective.
"So, can I ask you a more personal question?" I asked.
"Hmm, depends on what it is," Zayn answered as he removed her saddle and gear.
"Have you really had a thing for me this whole time?"
Zayn looked over his shoulder at me as he fed Cool a carrot treat, raising one eyebrow. "What do you think?"
I just had to know if he ever had an inkling about me; if Nick was actually right. "Did I give off the vibe...?" I inquired hesitantly.
He looked at me, a bit bewildered. "The vibe? What is that?"
"Yeah you know...like, that subtle energy some people have that others can somehow pick up on that kind of insinuates that maybe someone isn't completely straight..." I attempted to explain.
Zayn crossed his arms and scuffed his workbook against the dirt ground. "Like stereotypes? No, I don't buy into that sort of thing."
I shook my head. "No, no...it's more like this internal knowing. My friend Nick swears it exists. He can always tell when someone's either not straight or at least questioning. Usually."
"Can you?" Zayn rerouted.
"No, not really. I mean maybe sometimes. I don't know. I mean, I didn't know you were..."
"Hardly anyone knows," Zayn spoke out right away, his voice low and serious, as if he was indicating that it was crucial information.
He continued his thoughts. "But if you're asking me if I thought you might be curious then yeah, a bit. But I think the initial confirmation for me was when your cock started getting hard after I had you pinned down to the ground that day. That was pretty obvious, I think."
Zayn looked entertained by musing on that memory and there I went; blushing again. "It was just the sudden friction," I countered, trying not to smile and fully aware that I was lying.
"Mhm..." Zayn murmured, stepping a bit closer to me.
"Or maybe that was a missed opportunity for you," I redirected.
He looked me up and down. "Maybe I'm just not that easy."
"Oh? So that means I'm the easy one?" I retaliated coltishly.
"How about you try and resist me then...I bet you can't now," he leaned in to the side of my neck, daring lowly as I felt the warmth of his breath.
I shivered, swallowing. "You don't want to do that."
"Do what?"
"Make a bet with me," I expressed as I felt the softness of his lips graze my skin.
"Scared of losing?"
I breathed out. "Mm no, but two can play this game..."
I prudently reached my hand down to the crotch of Zayn's pants as he stood beside me, willingly infecting my aura with his magnetic charm. Slowly, I extended my fingers outward, drawing light lines and bringing him to slight attention beneath my touch. And then Zayn shuddered and quickly removed my hand from him, backing away as he attempted to gather resistance.
"Yeah yeah...get back to work."
* * * * *
It continued on like that between us throughout the day. Zayn and I were both playful and mischievous with each other in that way and I realized around dinner that I had met my match with someone on that level, the level that usually only I ever existed on. He excited me in this insane way, made everything feel fun, fresh and tempting.
Throughout dinner Zayn purposely remained cold towards me, even going as far as to sit on the opposite end of the table this time just so he could avoid my wandering eyes and intent stares. But the chase amused me and it only made me want Zayn even more.
Afterward I had taken a lemon popsicle out from the freezer and lounged outside on a sunning chair, licking away at it while Zayn strolled outside, standing next to me with a lit cigarette in his mouth, puffing away like a chimney. But he still wasn't looking at me, so I got cheeky quickly and decided to force it out of him.
I brought the yellow popsicle up to my wet, sticky lips and wrapped them tightly around the cold treat, drawing it in to my mouth smoothly, slowly, until I was halfway down the popsicle and then I noticed Zayn finally peak a glance at me from out of the corner of his eye.
"Stop," he warned with narrowed brows.
"What? I'm not doing anything," I tossed back, removing the popsicle from my mouth, eyes fluttering up at him with a false sense of innocence.
Zayn swiftly bent down and snubbed out his cigarette before snatching the popsicle out from my hand, taking it from me. And he carefully starting licking at the sides of it as the lemon juice dripped down his fingers and I was frozen, staring. I groaned lowly, watching Zayn start to gingerly suck the juice his fingers and everything inside of me was buzzing with intensifying attraction.
Then he stopped, knowing exactly what he was doing, and swiftly bit down on it. He chomped the top of the popsicle off and I watched the round Adam's apple in his throat move hard as he swallowed it down before handing it back to me.
And then Zayn just lit up another cigarette and walked away.
* * * * *
Gio had also invited everyone to played bocce outside in the backyard later that evening, but Zayn had declined the game and opted for hanging out in the garage to work on his sculpture instead. But I didn't mind it. In fact, I really adored that Zayn cared so much about his passions and put an incredible amount of effort into seeing them through, but damn I'd be lying if I said that the spaces between us weren't driving me mad with desire as the hours dragged on.
But he and I were still attempting to resist each other in our sick and twisted game, and I just wondered who was going to be the first one to break. But as proud and as stubborn as I could be, I knew deep down that there was a good chance that it would end up being me.
But I wasn't backing down just yet.
As night fell I decided to go for a swim. There was no one else around and Zayn was still working on his art, so I just went for it alone with my bright yellow swim trunks on, plunging headfirst into the water as I dove in. Swimming was one of the most relaxing things for me and I loved everything about how water felt. It was like floating, feeling light. My mind and soul were instantly refreshed.
I swore in a past life I must have been a mermaid.
I sprung my tan body around and around, crashing and making waves as I did somersaults and flips in the crystal water, then going for a handstand in the shallow end of the pool. I dove off the end of the diving board several times in a row afterward, and in perfect form from also having also been formerly on swim teams as a child.
My head crashed through above the surface of the water after the last dive, whipping my head back and shaking my hair out as I spotted Zayn finally walking up to the side of the pool, shirtless and in a pair of black basketball shorts, his golden brown skin illuminated by the patio lights. He sat down on the edge and plopped his shoeless feet into the water, kicking them back and forth gently.
I slowly started to make my over from across the pool. "Still can't swim?"
"Nope," he replied plainly.
Zayn had never been a fan of any body of water for as long as I knew him. That's one thing I always remembered. His mum and Gio loved to swim, and that's why they had this gorgeous pool, but no one would ever catch Zayn in it. He was deathly afraid of water, and specifically scared of drowning. So he always spent every summer whenever me and Gemma went swimming there just sitting on the side with his feet dangling in the water, exactly like he was doing now.
But I still couldn't help but taunt him a little more in my natural tendency to do so, and I casually removed my swimming trunks from below the water where I treaded and raised them above the surface, throwing them directly at Zayn, who caught them, dripping wet in his hands. Zayn glared at me and then placed my shorts down beside where he sat.
"So cruel."
I smirked to myself while floating on my back before him, right on top of the pool water, ensuring that he could see my entire nude body as I laid back, and even my flaccid wet dick that was moving back and forth beneath the waves while I gently moved my arms and legs to keep myself afloat.
"One of these days Gio is gonna catch you out here like this and it's going to be very awkward," Zayn commented.
I snorted with laughter, realizing that he was probably right, but I had an insatiable itch for recklessness sometimes that just needed to be scratched. And I couldn't help it. I started to swim closer to Zayn next and propelled myself forward, grabbing onto his bare ankles with wet hands and tugged on them. I watched him flinch slightly, as if he was afraid that I was going to drag him right into the pool.
But as tempting as that was for me, I would never do that to Zayn.
"So what did you think when you saw me nude that first time? You know, when you stole my clothes," I wondered out loud as I remained attached to his ankles and he let me float there like that.
"Well, I thought you were naked."
I rolled my eyes. "Smart ass. What else. Tell me, don't be shy," I urged.
Zayn's lips curved into a smile instantly, glancing down at my torso and farther down as he spoke. "I thought you had a nice dick, Harry. And yeah, I saw it. Is that what you want to hear?"
"Mhm..." I droned, spreading my thighs open and drifted back.
I was still clung to Zayn's ankles while I exposed more of my wet, hanging cock beneath the water. I just wanted to make sure he could really see it as I tried desperately to lure Zayn in and make him break first.
Zayn stared down at me intently and bit his bottom lip. "So about this game..."
Ding ding ding. I won. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Seems rather boring on second thought..." he mused.
"See? I knew you couldn't resist me," I taunted satisfyingly.
Zayn shot me this sexy, threatening look as he narrowed his brows and I wanted more than anything to just yank him into that pool then and there. "Boy, don't get too cocky."
But I kept on. "What happens if I do?"
"You wanna find out?"
"I do, actually."
Zayn jerked himself back and I quickly let go of his ankles. He then sprung to his feet hurriedly and threw my shorts at me.
"Then get the fuck out of this pool and come upstairs with me. Now."
* * * * *
My body was still damp from the pool water and it dripped down my legs as I towel dried myself off in the kitchen. As soon as I could I bolted up the stairs right behind Zayn and we must have sounded like a herd of elephants trampling up them. Once we moved down the hallway and entered his bedroom, Zayn was already frantically removing his shorts and briefs, stepping right out of them.
His thick cock was already starting to grow semi erect while I stared down at it and Zayn tugged at my wet bathing suit bottoms, yanking them down hard to the ground, my big dick wet and hanging. Zayn then started immediately kissing on my neck with soft lips until I quivered, already purring out a low moan.
"Get on your knees, kitten."
I obeyed him immediately, my heart thudding in anticipation as he grabbed hold of his cock and aggressively slapped me several times in the cheek with it before parting my lips open with his ripe head and he shoved it inside my mouth. I started sucking on him right away while he thrusted his hips forward, fucking into my mouth while I choked on his dick.
"Mm yeah that's it, take my whole cock," he stated, causing me to groan against the saliva-drenched skin of his shaft, feeling the tip of him hit the back of my throat again and again.
And after a few times he stopped suddenly and pulled his slippery cock out of my mouth, jumping backwards as if he was startled by something. I looked up at him from on my knees, confused.
"What? What's wrong?"
Then I heard what had made caused him to halt so abruptly.
"Zayn! ZAYN!"
Gio's voice boomed in the background and I heard a steady charge of footsteps up the stairs following soon after. Zayn instinctively threw at me a pair of joggers that were laying on the ground and I slipped them on fast while he stepped back into the shorts he had been previously wearing.
Gio then barged in, opening the door to Zayn's room with a sudden force that scared the shit out of me. His eyes were wide, as if he had just seen a ghost and my heart was beating out of my chest. I didn't know what was going on and I was internally freaking out, immediately coming to the assumption that what we were doing wasn't allowed and afraid that we were about to be in trouble.
But that wasn't the case. "Natalia's been rushed to the hospital. They think she's had a heart attack," he said, his voice shaking with worry.
Zayn's jaw dropped open with sheer panic. "Oh no. Oh no, oh no..."
"We need to get over there," he replied with urgency while Zayn was already throwing on a t-shirt and sliding his feet into a pair of slippers.
"I'm so sorry," was all I could say. I felt awful, but I wasn't sure if I was included because I wasn't a part of their actual family. "...Should I come?" I asked hesitantly.
"It's alright. You don't have to," Gio responded to me with a wave while Zayn grabbed his keys and phone off his night stand and shoved them into his shorts pocket.
"Are you sure?" I asked again, but this time directing my concern towards Zayn as I remained standing there, feeling both worried and sad.
Zayn grumbled, shoving past me. "No! Just stay here, Harry."
"Okay," I said quietly.
Gio and Zayn both left Zayn's bedroom afterward with Zayn slamming the door behind him as he left and I dropped to the ground with my head in my hands, feeling a well of tears spring from the back of my eyes. I wasn't close to Gio's sister, Natalia, and had only know her for half a summer, but just the thought that something horrible could happen at any moment made my heart hurt.
A sprinkle of tears fell down my face next automatically, splashing onto my cheeks and I jumped onto Zayn's bed right away, burying my face into his pillow and clutching it tight, hoping that everyone would be okay. And I couldn't help but wish that Zayn had asked me to come along because I wanted to be there for him.
But he didn't need me.
* * * * *
I laid in Zayn's bed for several hours just waiting for a call that never came. Around quarter to 11 Gio finally texted me to tell me that Natalia was going to be okay and luckily her heart attack was only minor, but she'd be there for a few days to be observed. I felt instantly relieved by the news and still worried about Zayn, who hadn't bothered to say anything to me.
I hadn't realized I was drifting off to sleep under the covers in Zayn's bed until shortly afterward when he came home and opened his bedroom door, flicking the lights on, which woke me up. I stirred, rolling over and fluttered my eyes open to peer over at him. Zayn was quiet and didn't say anything to me, just slowly poking around his room on his phone. He was texting someone, but I didn't know who.
I sat up in his bed and addressed him, still feeling worried. "Hey. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he replied sternly.
"Alright..." I replied tentatively, deciding it was probably for the best for me to go, even though I knew he was lying and that he wasn't fine.
But I knew it wouldn't sit right with me if I had left Zayn alone without at least trying to be there for him first. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Zayn shrugged and put his phone down on his dresser. "No, not really."
He then walked around to the opposite side of the bed and climbed in beside me, plopping down onto the mattress and sinking in with his head hitting the pillow. But he was laying the opposite way with his back towards me and I wasn't sure what to do now. Everybody dealt with hardships and grief differently and I knew Zayn was the type to put walls up emotionally, according to Marco, so I wondered if maybe I had overstayed my welcome.
I was just about to get up and go when I noticed the picture frame of Zayn and his mum from when he was maybe 9 or 10 sitting on the corner of his nightstand table next to the lava lamp. And Zayn was staring right at it while he laid there in complete silence and I suddenly felt this heaviness sting my heart. I realized that what happened to Natalia had probably triggered those memories from the hospital when Tricia was sick I could sense that he was far from okay.
So I leaned in and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in an attempt to provide him with some sense of comfort, even if he didn't want it.
"Well...I'll let you be. Just hit me up if you change your mind and want to talk," I said softly before going to climb out of his bed.
But then I felt Zayn's arm reach out from behind him and grabbed onto mine, preventing me from moving. I looked over at my shoulder and he turned to look at me; I could see that his eyes were glassy, his face solemn.
"Stay," he tacitly requested.
So I nodded straight away and placed my head back down on the pillow beside where he was now laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It remained quiet between us for a few minutes longer and I did my best to just be present without saying anything more to him, and realizing that for Zayn, maybe just my company was enough. Then he turned on his side facing me and shifted my body so that I was laying in the other direction.
Zayn slowly drew my body back into to his and lazily draped a tattooed arm around my waist next, spooning me close. He remained in silence still and just kept me tight in his grasp, sending me into a very cozy and validated place as we cuddled together. I had never been the little spoon before whenever I laid with anyone, and it made me feel different; comfortable, secure.
And before I knew it we had both fallen asleep like that.