Fifteen Minutes (Zarry AU)

Chapter 9

An hour later, they’re on their second cup of tea. They should have split the third donut, but Zayn insisted that Harry earned it for the Whitechapel Gallery thing (which he did) and Harry, who isn’t one to turn down a donut at the best of times, gladly accepted because he couldn’t endure another five minutes of Zayn licking sugar from his fingers.

‘I’m getting a tattoo,’ he announces when he finishes it, spreading his arms out on the mattress and looking up at the steel beams crossing under the roof.

Zayn’s sitting at the drafting table, agonising over what he’s going to show the guy from the gallery and groans. ‘Oh God. It’s gonna be an emo lyric, isn’t it?’

Harry grins. ‘That’s the best bit: you’ll never be able to take the piss out of it.’

‘I’m sure I’ll find a way.’

‘No you won’t, cos you’re gonna design it.’

Zayn looks up from the sketches he’s sifting through. ‘Oh I am, am I?’

‘It’s my first tattoo. I want it to be special.’

‘I thought you wanted those stupid birds.’

‘Says the dude with angel wings.’

‘I’m not taking shade from someone in a Elton John t-shirt.’

‘You know what’s gayer than a Elton John t-shirt?’ Harry says, stopping to lick raspberry jam from the heel of his palm. ‘Tattooed angel wings.’

‘True. They do get me plenty of dick.’

Not that much, I hope, Harry almost says, but manages to stop himself.

He changes the subject. ‘I want a Malik original.’

‘I thought you hated my tattoos?’

‘I do, but I liked what you drew for our demo. I want something like that.’

‘What? A bird?’

‘I don’t care.’ Harry shrugs. ‘Just something cool like you.’

‘I’m cool? I thought I was as lonely as the night.’

‘You are, but that’s kind of cool.’

Zayn chuckles to himself. ‘Oh yeah?’ he says, putting the sketches down on the drafting table and reaching into the pen pot for a pen.

‘What are you doing?’ Harry says as he walks over to the mattress. Zayn kneels next to him and Harry puts his arms up. ‘Don’t hurt me. I was joking about the angel wings.’

He sits up, trying to grab Zayn’s wrists, but he won’t let him. ‘Calm down,’ Zayn says, pushing him back down and slapping his hands away. ‘I’m gonna draw it on you.’

‘What?’ Harry asks, eyes wide as his head falls back on the pillow.

‘The tattoo.’

‘Why?’

‘So you can see if you like it before you commit to it.’

Harry’s impressed. ‘That’s a pretty good idea, actually.’

‘I have them sometimes.’ Zayn sits back on his heels. ‘Where do you want it?’

‘Here.’ He points to his right forearm.

‘Okay. Close your eyes.’

‘Why do I have to close my eyes?’ Harry asks warily as Zayn lies on his side next to him, pulling his arm away when Zayn reaches for his wrist.