Zayn rolled his eyes at the question. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked over the woman’s shoulder at the horrible wallpaper. He barely heard Louis’ response. Not that he needed to. The same question was asked at every interview and the same answer was always given: no, Louis and Harry aren’t together. It was tiresome to hear almost everyday.
Honestly, what do the interviewers think is going to happen? Do they think if they keep asking, one of them with crack and just scream: “Yes! We’re fucking!”? No, that would never happen. It was a stupid question built on false assumptions. Well, partially false assumptions.
No, they weren’t dating, but definitely weren’t straight. Anyone with eyes could see their blatant homosexuality, or in Harry’s case pansexuality. It was the reason they became friends so fast during X Factor. They were able to bond and have someone to talk to, but nothing else. That’s not to say they hadn’t made out, but, honestly, everyone in the band had made out at least once—and two of them were straight.
Liam clapped Zayn in the shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed the interview was over.
“You alright?” Liam asked him.
“Brilliant,” Zayn replied. He got up from his chair and walked from the room. He grabbed a bottle of water and leaned against the wall. He was glad that he didn’t have to part take in the next interview. He was tired and annoyed.
“Hey,” Harry said, stopping in front of him. He took the water from the older man’s hand and took a sip of it. He handed it back. Zayn just stared at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Zayn responded. Harry looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I just get sick of people asking about him,” he finally admitted.
“Who—oh, Louis?” Harry asked. “Zayn, not this again. It’s not a big deal. Just because they ask about it doesn’t mean it’s happening.”
“I know,” Zayn said. “But I still hate it.”
“You get upset so easily,” Harry said. He took a step forward and placed a hand on Zayn’s hip. He leaned down. Their noses brushed. “When you know there’s nothing to be upset about.”
“Stop,” Zayn said, pushing him away. “They’re going to see.” He glanced at the group of reporters who were, surprisingly, not paying them any attention.
“So take me somewhere where they wont,” Harry said cheekily. He touched Zayn’s fingers briefly then let them drop.
Zayn knew they shouldn’t. They didn’t have much time before the next interview they needed to do, but he couldn’t resist. Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. The younger man smiled at him, waiting.
“Fine,” Zayn conceded. He started aimlessly down the hall, glancing in doors looking for an empty space. Finally, they came across what looked like a meeting room that was vacant. Zayn pulled Harry inside and locked the door.
“What are you doing?” Zayn asked as Harry typed away on his phone. “We don’t have much time, Harry.”
“I know,” he said. “I texted Louis and told him to stale if we weren’t back.” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and wrapped his arms around Zayn’s neck. “Ok, I’m all yours.”
“Yes,” Zayn said, gripping his waist and pressing their bodies together. “You are.” He kissed him. “And don’t forget it.”
His hands pulled at Harry’s shirt as Harry’s hands tangled in his hair. Their lips moved together hurriedly. Zayn broke their kiss to pull off his shirt, but Harry stopped him.
