The first night
Harry lost himself a long time ago.
His real self lives.. or died in his youth of high school or beginning of college. It was so different back then, easy too. No labels, just freedom and fun with, of course, mischief. Oh and lots and lots of flirting. He couldn't help it.
Now he finds himself working overtime in an office. Which isn't so bad with his kind coworkers. He actually doesn't work for the money, more so to keep himself from going home...
His marriage? Harry didn't want to think about it. It was like riding a bicycle. Only he'd be blindly pedaling and nearly crashing or swerving, trying to block out any regrets or problems. Just riding so he won't break down and fall. He needed to be sane and present for his wife. Currently he was sitting in his car prepping himself to greet her. Her mood was oh so unpredictable. He climbed out of his vehicle, grabbing his messenger bag and mobile. Reaching the front steps, a notification bings from his phone. It was his kendall telling him she wasn't coming home.
Right! She was out with her girlfriends. He typed up a response.
Hmm. What would he do tonight? Just then a soft purr came from the bushes next to the entry. A small tabby kitten made its way to curl around Harry's leg. He bent down with his free hand to scratch the back of its head.
"Back again? You're lucky the Mrs. isn't here." He spoke.
Ping! Another text.
Jesus! It's like she's watching him. Harry looks behind him out of paranoia. They owned a house big enough for twelve people yet she didn't allow one tiny kitten. He sighed.
"She's not here c'mon." He nodded at the cat to follow as he unlocked the door and walked in.
Tonight he planned on winding down and taking his mind off work or any other troubles. He made his way into the kitchen, seating the cat gently on the counter. Once he finished pouring milk into a bowl he clinked his wine glass against it. "Cheers." With that him and the cat drink away.
So it's come to this- a lonely Friday night. He thought to himself. Technically I do have a friend with me. He shrugged whilst petting his company. I know exactly who I want to be with tonight though.
Just call him you idiot!
He argued with himself internally. Their new neighbor caught his interest the moment they met. At the house get together, through their wives. Harry bit his thumb thinking about him. Almost impulsively he grabbed his phone. They exchanged numbers awhile ago. Yes they've ran into each other on the street and have spent time together at other parties thrown by friends, but they haven't really set aside time to just be with each other alone. Each time they met up they grew more friendly and attached to each other. If this neighbor was so special why didn't they spend more time together? Because Harry was a wuss to put it plainly. When did he ever become the flustered one? Never!
He scrolled all the way to the bottom of his contact list. With his thumb pending on the screen. To his surprise the contact called him. He answered and greeted them almost too quickly.
A soft chuckle came from the phone. "Someone's excited."
"Hi Zayn."
"Good evening Harry."
God that voice, he kicked himself. "You get a last minute text from your wife?"
"Oh yeah, yeah. That happen to you?" Harry asked.
"Yes, apparently there was a "hair emergency?"
"That's what that was? I thought someone was injured."
"Hey don't ever discount the importance of hair!"
"Sure..." They both laughed.
"Well, anyways reason why I called...was uh. Since the girls are out doing their thing why not have our own guys night. You free right now?"
He lost grip behind him but caught himself on the counter, spilling wine over the surface and his blazer. "Shit- uh yes I'm free right now!"
"Are you alright? You know what- with how many times I've seen you trip and survive I'm gonna assume you're fine. I'm coming over now okay?"
He scoffed jokingly. When he arrived with a bottle of whiskey in hand at the front door things escalated pretty quickly. They lounged in the living room talking each others ear off yet equally engaged in what they had to say. From jokes to jobs to getting to know one another better. Currently 11:30 read the clock as both of sit on the rug between the coffee table and couch. Maybe midnight he'll go. But two hours slipped by easily. Harry was relived yet nervous, afraid he'd leave. It felt like he was pushing his luck with how much time he was spending with him. Like a 6 year old on a play date. He pushed away these clingy feelings, but if only he knew those feelings were reciprocated.
"Christ." Zayn closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "What time is it? Don't wanna overstay."
"Its about 1:30." He frowned whilst reading his watch.
"Well I hate to break it to you, but I don't think I can leave just yet. Bet my ass can't walk straight or even get up." He chuckled.
"Oh, I could drive." Harry offered getting up. Zayn only grabbed his arm, pulling him down.
"H... we're both shitfaced ." Realization hit him, they both laughed.
Both on the floor of the living room their laughing settled. Zayn stared into Harry's eyes still smiling. There was something intense or intimate about the eye contact. It was almost sobering. Harry looked at the man in front of him, something familiar rushed over him. And then he remembered, when was the last time he swooned over someone just by staring at them. He rested the side of his head against the seat of the couch.
"God... I love those eyes." He whispered with a crooked grin, but Zayn wasn't smiling anymore. Harry didn't have time to think about if he regretted saying this out loud or not cause the back of his head was gripped and then all of a sudden booze and cologne inundated him. They kissed.
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The morning after, Harry woke up on his couch with the throw blanket over him. He felt way too many things at once. Physically he was hung over and shitty. In his mind though, he felt giddy, happy, guilty, disgusted, confounded, thrilled, and then guilty all over again. It all made him rush to the other room and puke in is kitchen garbage can.
"Fuck me..." He sighed washing his face in he sink. He wanted to back to sleep, he realized he was already in his pajamas, although not remembering when he put them on he was glad he changed sometime during the night. Dead silence filled the house. Did he leave? Harry wondered.
He did. The living room was left empty.
Very slowly the days went by. Ever since then, Zayn was stuck in his head. He was left wondering and daydreaming. What would he even say to him? Sometimes he planned on banging on his door yelling. Harry would confront him, arguing that he was the one who made the move and ruined everything. But it wasn't like their marriages were on the line. You can't damage something that's been wrong from the start.
Sometimes he thought about pulling the back of his neck and crashing into him again. Would it feel just as good being sober?
Other times, he just felt like asking why he came over that night, if he had planned it, if Zayn felt some guilt building up with his own marriage. If he thought about him as much as he did. Fuck, all this over one kiss? Harry was pathetic.
Just one more day, for it to turn into a full week passing. Almost seven days and Harry almost had a heart attack when Kendall brought up Gigi over dinner one night.
What was he doing now? Harry hasn't felt this way since high school. It was dreadful waiting on a call you didn't know was coming or not. Maybe he was just that infatuated with Zayn's looks that it turned him crazy. Harry was a grown man god dammit. As he drove home from work finally 'sobered' up from that night Zayn met with him. Who lets a kiss get the best of them?
Harry's exhaustion quickly subsided when he noticed a black Bentley in his driveway with a lean figure leaning against the trunk. There's only one man in this neighborhood who dresses like a fashion icon everywhere he goes. Zayn started his way over to him.
Harry grabbed his things from his car and got out. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk." Zayn scratched the back of his head.
It felt unhealthy to Harry with how much he thought about the man standing right in front of him. He felt it best to just end or forget about whatever happened.
"What for? It was just a kiss." Harry gathered his keys to unlock the front door without looking at him.
Zayn stood there shocked. He strides in front of Harry to block the door. "Wait you're telling me you only remember the kiss?!"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "We talked, we drank, we kissed. And you left in the morning."
Zayn's eyes widened as he took a step back. "That's all you remembered?"
"Am I missing something?" he grew frustrated.
"It was a little more than just kissing Harold."
"Don't call me that! Just tell me what you're talking about!"
Zayn sighed. "Let's go inside first."
"No, just tell me now!" Zayn tried to convince him once again to try and talk inside, but he refused.
"We fucked okay!"
Complete silence fell upon them. "That's impossible."
"Even if we did end up just kissing, it wouldn't change the fact that we did something wrong. To our wives..."
"But not wrong to ourselves right?" Harry gripped his messenger bag. The porch light shined bright on both of them.
"How do you mean?"
"Like besides the cheating... what happened wasn't wrong."
"Why would it be?"
"I don't know." Harry blushed. Moments passed them. "Fine. Lets talk inside."