Keep the Car Running (Zarry AU)

Chapter 28

When Harry walks out of the bathroom, Zayn is sitting on the bed, smoking a cigarette. He’s bollock naked, which is distracting enough, but when he holds up a red plastic bottle of lube, Harry almost trips on the rug as he walks towards him.

‘Look what I bought,’ Zayn says, looking at it with a proud smile. ‘I’ve never bought lube before.’

‘You’ve never bought lube?’

‘Nope.’

‘I made the driver stop so I could get fags, and there it was.’

‘By the till?’

‘No.’ Zayn chuckles, letting Harry know that an orgasm has done little to sober him up. ‘Down the lube aisle.’

‘There was lube aisle? Sounds like my kind of shop.’

‘It’s strawberry!’

‘Strawberry? What are you? Fourteen?’

‘I hope it tastes like Starburst,’ Zayn says flipping the lid and sniffing it.

‘That’s not how you taste it,’ Harry tells him with a smirk, taking it from him.

Zayn smiles back – a bit looser and a bit sillier – then leans over to drop his cigarette into the mug of cold tea on the bedside table as Harry tells him to hold out his hand. When he does, Harry squeezes some of the lube into his palm and gestures at him to rub it in. Zayn doesn’t hesitate, reaching for Harry’s cock. Harry laughs as he does, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady himself, but before he can tell him to slow down, Zayn starts fisting him and it feels so good that he can’t catch his breath.

‘You gonna get hard for me?’ Zayn asks, looking up at him, his lips parted.

‘Keep doing that,’ Harry breathes, his nails digging into Zayn’s shoulders.

‘This?’ He strokes up and twists his hand, making his cock twitch gleefully.

‘Oh God yeah. That.’

‘Come on.’ Zayn does it again and when Harry’s toes curl in the rug, he can’t help but wonder if he learnt that move from him.

‘Thought you wanted to know if it tastes like Starburst?’

Harry grins and Zayn doesn’t hesitate then, either, dipping his head to swirl his tongue around the head of Harry’s cock. If he wasn’t hard before, he is then, even when Zayn stops to tell him that it tastes like Haribo. Harry laughs, his head swimming dreamily, like something from a cartoon. He should have bluebirds flying around his head, he thinks as he moves his hands up to Zayn’s hair. Hearts popping from his eyes.

‘That’s it,’ Harry reassures him, pulling at his hair gently to slow him down as Zayn sucks him off, eager and sloppy. Zayn takes the hint, his fingers curling around the backs of Harry’s legs as he lets himself relax into it, taking him in a little deeper each time until he gags. He sits back on his heels with a gasp when he does, a thread of saliva still connecting them as he coughs then leans down and takes Harry in his mouth again.

‘Gonna come,’ Harry warns him, his back aching from the effort of not holding his head and fucking into his mouth until he comes. But Zayn still isn’t used to it, Harry knows, his teeth catching every now and then and his breath puffing out of his nostrils in frantic bursts that tickle Harry’s pubic hair. So he doesn’t direct him, just lets him enjoy it. And he obviously is, Zayn’s right hand between his legs now, pumping at his own hard on, as he works Harry with his left.

‘Can I come in your mouth?’ Harry asks. He nods and Harry steps back and tells Zayn to stick out his tongue. He does, and the sight of it, of Zayn’s pink pink tongue and pink pink cheeks, has him unraveling at the same time as Zayn, the pair of them groaning with sudden, absolute satisfaction.