The doorbell rings. Zain ignores it, sliding through the few pictures he has of Harry again, watching him beam and pout and look teasingly at the camera. He misses him more than he'd thought, misses spending time with him.
He hasn't realised how much of his free time he had been spending with Harry, how Harry was always there to touch and to talk to about the most inane things. It's not the same via text even if he has gotten some very nice pictures.
"What?" he calls when someone knocks on his door, annoyed. He doesn't want to deal with his roommates today, not after he's barely slept all night because Matt had invited over his friends to party.
"Hi," Harry says, pushing the door open slightly.
Zain blinks at him. He looks like an apparition, so very out of place in Zain's small and damp room. His hair is soft and his coat looks way too expensive to even be in proximity to Zain's house.
"Hey," Zain says, getting up quickly and cupping Harry's cheek to kiss him.
Harry sighs into his mouth, clutching at Zain's sweater.
"I thought you were coming back tomorrow?" Zain asks, cupping Harry's cheek and holding him close.
He wants to strip him and press him to the mattress but at the same time he cannot, before his mattress would ruin Harry's back, and he's not sure he wants Harry to touch anything in this shithole.
"I didn't want to miss my class," Harry says, looking around curiously. "This is very small, darling," he says, sounding more concerned than anything.
"I know," Zain smiles, amused. He can't even press Harry to the wall properly, feel him pressed against his front, because the walls in this house were all damp and probably full of mould.
"Have you eaten already?" Harry asks, stroking his hand down Zain's chest, tilting his head slightly. "I thought we could go eat at the Taj. We haven't in ages."
"I don't think two weeks is ages, princess," Zain grins, kissing the corner of Harry's mouth and lingering. He's missed him.
"It feels like it," Harry shrugs. "Come on, let's go. You're staying the night with me, right?"
"Yea," Zain agrees. He can't even imagine coming back here when Harry was offering more time with himself, more time to kiss and touch. And really, he'd follow Harry anywhere if it meant leaving his room.
He grabs his bag and stuffs his laptop into it, not even making an attempt to take clothes. He's still not quite sure what to make of it, but he has a whole stack of clothing at Harry's now, stuff Harry had bought for him in various degrees of sneakiness. He should probably insist more firmly, but it would not end in his favour and he cannot bear to see Harry cry again. Harry's not sure how Harry manages to still look so pretty while he's crying like his heart is breaking.
"You leaving?" Jack asks when they pass him on the narrow stairs, throwing Harry an assessing look and sneering slightly. Zain cannot stand his flatmates. He'll definitely not renew his lease for another year but the house was cheap and convenient, it would be hard finding another one.
"Yep," Zain says, urging Harry forward with a hand on his back. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's pulled the door closed behind themselves, wrapping his arm more firmly around Harry's waist. He knows Harry likes to be touched.
"They're not your friends?" Harry asks, unlocking his car.
"Nope," Zain says, dropping his bag behind his seat and sliding into the passenger seat. Harry's car feels more homely than his house, it's a bit pathetic. "Definitely not."
"How was your weekend, then?" Harry asks, starting the car.
"Normal," Zain shrugs, doesn't quiet want to say lonely. "Work, assignments, reading, the usual. How was yours?"
"Mummy took me shopping," Harry shrugs. "And then I spent the day with her and her friends who all got really drunk."
"Sounds— fun?" Zain finishes somewhat unsure, watching Harry's face light up with a mischievous grin.
"It can be. I get all the gossip that way and I'm old enough now they don't even pretend to keep me from drinking," he grins.
"Yea?" Zain says, amused at Harry's enthusiasm. "What kind of stuff does your mother get up to then?"
"Not my mum, Zain," Harry giggles. "Not her friends either, well, not much anyways. But everyone else is having at least one affair—"
"At least one?"
"Yea, and they're all super cliché. Personal trainer, tennis coach. All that. And I'm pretty sure there's some embezzling going on. And oh my god," Harry says excitedly, slapping at Zain's thigh as he parks the car. "This one woman is having an affair with her husband's mistress and I think they're about to leave him and rob him in the divorce!"
"Good for them," Zain says, his voice lilting up questioningly.
Harry grins at him, shrugging. "Don't know, but it's fun to see it play out. Like my own soap opera, you know."
"Hm," Zain agrees, his attention caught by the way Harry's whole face is lit up with amusement.
"Come here for a second," he says, catching Harry's cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss. "Missed you," he adds quietly, feeling awkward.
It's worth it for the way Harry lights up even more, his whole face bright and soft.
"I missed you, too," he says, looking at Zain almost bashfully. He presses another quick kiss to Zain's lips before reaching for the car door.
"Dinner," he asks, still looking at Zain with bright eyes.
"Yea," Zain agrees, getting out of the car as well to follow Harry into the restaurant.
The smell of spice hits him immediately and his stomach growls in response, reminding him he hasn't eaten in a while.
Harry reaches back to snag his hand, chatting brightly to the waitress. He's always had this presence, that way to draw attention. But after a whole weekend away, it's like he shines even more brightly.
"I'm so hungry," Harry says, pulling Zain to sit down beside him and linking their fingers on his thigh. "But the service here is always so good, I bet we'll get some bread soon."
"Mm," Zain agrees, rubbing his thumb over the seam of Harry's jeans. He wishes he'd worn a dress today so he could touch skin.
"Oh, there she is," Harry says eagerly, straightening. "Thank you!"
Zain leans back, watching him order for Zain without even stopping to look at Zain. The waitress at least looks at him for confirmation. She leaves after he nods at her, Harry already ripping a neat piece of bread and popping it into his mouth before offering Zain another piece by holding it to his lips.
"I can eat on my own, princess," Zain says gently, amused.
"Right, of course," Harry says, flushing, pulling on his jumper fussily.
Zain'd never have thought he would have someone this fussy in his life and enjoy it.
"Not in public at least, hm?" Zain says quietly, kissing Harry's jaw softly.
"Zain," Harry giggles, blushing even darker somehow, biting his lower lip to hold back his grin.
"Haz," Zain teases, brushing his nose against Harry's.
They pull apart when the waitress comes back, Harry ducking his head before smiling at her brightly.
Zain leans back and taps his foot against Harry's. "So," he asks slowly. "What else is going on with your mum's friends?"
"Oh you don't wanna know," Harry grins and starts talking happily.
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