fool's gold [zarry]

douze

"You know," Niall says, after everyone has left and it's just the cleaning crew sweeping up the debris of a fashion show and too many rich people. "I need to stop letting you decide things."

"Why?" Zain asks, packing up his designs carefully. "It was a success."

"You names it after your boyfriend," Niall says. "I thought it couldn't get worse after naming a collection after yourself, but —"

"How many times," Zain says, irate, taking care with the main piece. Niall always said he should let someone else pack up, but he had long since given up with arguing this, letting Zain be — in this at least. "It's not named after him. It's called Style. It's about style in an era when people seem to have forgotten that it means more than just a label."

"Alright," Niall huffs, amused, taking another sip of the champagne bottle. It was probably the other reason Niall let Zain clean up. He got to finish one or two of the opened champagne bottles that would be poured down a drain somewhere otherwise.

"But he's your boyfriend then?" Niall adds, shrewd.

Zain stiffens. Niall knew him too well, really. He should figure out how to manage his business without him and then get him to leave him alone forever.

"I don't have time for a boyfriend," he says, closing the garment bag decisively before turning to the last piece. "And I don't think he does that anyways. You know how those young ones are."

"The young ones?" Niall asks, walking around the rack to look at Zain properly. "You're so full of shit, Zain."

Zain glares at him, bagging the last suit with less care than he had the rest.

"Well, I hope it works out," Niall shrugs. "The name is questionable, but your work is good. Maybe even your best yet. He's a proper muse."

"And we know how those things end," Zain says, raising an eyebrow at Zain.

"Do we?" Niall shrugs, casual. "Or do you think you do because you are a prick who thinks he knows better than anyone else?"

"I know," Zain glares, taking the bottle from Niall and taking a sip. "I'm done."

"Very good, my liege," Niall says with a sarcastic bow. "Let's go," he adds more softly, wrapping his arm around Zain like Zain needed comforting. "Let's get some pizza. It's tradition."

"It is," Zain agrees, leaning against his for a moment, grateful to always have him by his side. Not that he'd say. Niall would be even smugger than he was now and that would be unbearable for everyone.

☀️

it's been so long I might have lost diva zain's voice idk I am sorry!