Fifteen Minutes (Zarry AU)

Chapter 11

He better be worth it. That was the last thing Ben said to Zayn. He better be worth it. Zayn had to walk out of the café then because Ben didn’t get what he was trying to say and maybe that’s his fault; he’s never been good at these things. He never says things at the right time, he either says things too soon or too late. There’s no middle ground.

With Ben he said it too late because it didn’t matter how carefully he chose his words or how many times he said that he wanted to be friends, all Ben heard was that Zayn was choosing Harry. He didn’t, if Zayn chose anyone then he chose himself for once, but that’s why he had to walk away, because Ben wasn’t listening any more. But the truth is: Zayn was the one who wasn’t listening. If he was then he’d know that Ben wasn’t telling him to choose, he was telling him to be careful. It takes Zayn a while to realise that, though, because he’s a stubborn bastard and he’s trying so hard to prove Ben wrong – to be okay – that he doesn’t notice that he’s not. If anything, Zayn thinks he’s happy. He thinks that he and Harry are fine, that they can sleep in the same bed as though it’s nothing, as though it’s Harry’s snoring that keeps Zayn awake, not the nearness of him, the curve of his bare shoulder or the misplaced curl in the middle of his forehead that Zayn has to turn away from before he moves it back into place.

He knows people think they’re together and he should correct them, but Harry doesn’t seem bothered, he just laughs when they ask so Zayn laughs, too. Like tonight, when they walked into the bar together and Dixie winked at him as she passed them on her way to the decks. Harry didn’t notice, but Ruth wasn’t as subtle. She’s been teasing Zayn for weeks, so when they’re setting out the candles and he hands Harry a bag of tealights she can’t let it pass without telling them how cute they are.

Zayn shakes his head. ‘Cute is not a word I’d use to describe him.’

‘Excuse you,’ Harry says, tearing into the bag of tealights. ‘I’m fucking adorable.’

‘Yes you are! You’re like an old married couple.’ She grins and points at Harry dropping the tealights into the candleholders. ‘You even have a routine.’

Less of the old, Zayn is about to tell her but he’s distracted by a flash of red and turns his head as a guy walks into the bar. When Zayn smiles, he actually thinks it’s a good thing, that it proves he and Harry are just friends because he wouldn’t notice another guy if he was in love with Harry, right? The sight of a stranger wouldn’t make his stomach tighten so Zayn’s legs are weak with relief as he starts walking towards him.

‘Nice t-shirt.’ he says with a smile as the guy approaches the bar.

‘You like the Stones?’

When the guy licks his lips, he does it on purpose, Zayn knows, and it’s not lascivious, but it’s just enough to make them pinker as he presses a hand to the red cartoon tongue on the front of his t-shirt. But then, when Zayn licks his lips, he does that on purpose as well, and it doesn’t go unnoticed because the guy leans closer. Not too close, but just enough to make Zayn tilt his head and lick his lips again.

‘What do they say?’ he says, his blue eyes blowing black as Zayn copies him and leans a little closer as well. ‘You can't always get what you want, you get what you need?’

Don’t you just, because a couple of hours later Zayn is kicking the guy’s legs apart and telling him to bend over the desk in the office. And he can’t remember the last time he did that, the last time he fucked a guy he didn’t know. Usually he just kisses them, maybe gives them a breathless handjob in the disabled toilet, his forehead against theirs, but he never fucks them. He can count on one hand the number of guys he’s slept with so he doesn’t even a have condom on him. The guy does, though, and Zayn doesn’t know what’s wrong with him; he can’t get it on quick enough before he thrusts into him.