Zayn thought he was a good actor; he had managed to keep his sexuality hidden from everyone (including himself) for almost nineteen years after all. Only, he wasn’t as good an actor as he thought and the little glances he gave hot guys as they walked past, or the way he would blush whenever someone brought up the topic of gay marriage or gay adoption were an obvious giveaway to Harry, his best friend.
Harry himself was bi, but unlike Zayn he was proud of it and it was almost painful for him to see Zayn so unhappy every time he took a girl home at the end of the night, like it was some sort of dreadful chore, like washing the pots or mowing the lawn or something.
To make matters worse Harry was madly in love with Zayn! His six pack, the tattoos, that gorgeous brown hair and impeccable dress sense, finished off with that little bit of stubble and eyes that made him look constantly tired and yet equally delicious at the same time left Harry week at the knees whenever he allowed himself to look for long enough. He just wished Zayn felt the same way; that he wasn’t so scared of coming out and that he would just see what was right in front of him and look at Harry the way he glanced at all of those other boys he took sneaky glances at.
The truth of the matter was, Zayn did feel the same. Zayn loved the curls and the green eyes and the extra nipples and the lack of body hair in general, but none of that mattered, because he would never allow himself to have it- he wasn’t gay. Yes, he knew he was constantly contradicting himself, but he didn’t care- he wasn’t gay.
He wasn’t gay and he certainly was not eying Harry up as the younger boy yawned and stretched; revealing a small slither of skin on his stomach as his T-shirt rose up and the dark hairs under his arms showing past the sleeves as he raised his arms to run his hands through his curls. And…oh shit, Harry definitely did not just notice Zayn staring at him longingly!
Shit, was Zayn just eying me up? Oh my God, Harry, refrain from fangirling out loud….that’s it, keep calm. “Like what you see Zayny babes?” Why the fuck did I just say that? Of all the fucking things to say I just said that….stupid Harry, stupid.
“Haha, good one Hazza- I’m not gay.” Fuck, he did see me, real smooth Malik, real fucking smooth. Now what do I fucking do? Say something you fucking moron “Yes.” Oh god, I just said yes….why the hell did I just say yes? Because it’s the truth Zayn- No it isn’t, I’m not gay.
“I thought so.” Harry smiled “It’s ok you know?- to be gay I mean.”
“I’m not gay.”
“Ok.”
“No, seriously Harry, I’m not gay…well, I don’t think so anyway….No, I’m definitely not gay Harry, I just appreciate the male form.”
“Ok.”
“Stop saying ok. I’m not gay. Ok, maybe I do like guys a little bit. Stop fucking grinning at me you prick, I’m not gay.”
“I could help you if you like? I mean, I could show you, like…I could help you decide, if you like it or not?”
Zayn’s eyes bulged, looking strange compared to their usual half closed state, making Harry gasp when he saw what a beautiful shade of brown they were- he could easily got lost in them “Really? It’d just be a couple of mates experimenting though right?”
“You can call it whatever you want babe if it makes you sleep better at night, but at the end of the day its gonna be one guy fucking another….so no it won’t just be a couple of mates experimenting.” Harry smiled.
“You’re gonna fuck me? Will it hurt?” Zayn suddenly looked apprehensive rather than embarrassed.
“Fuckin’ hell Zayn, just get up them stairs and got your clothes off will you? I’m going to show you just what you’re missing by being stuck in that little cosy closet of yours.”
