When We're Alone, It Could Be Home | Zarry

Part 3

                   

The first thought coming up to his mind when he locked Harry's breath all of sudden was that he'd probably get hit in the head by the camera, which weighted approximately half a kilogram. And then he would wake up from a coma in a few hours. His family and police were around his bed with Niall behind them, still in his best man suit, whispering "what the fuck were you thinking?!" Harry would be crossing his arms and legs outside the room, with an expression that's way too calm for the situation, and his messy curls fluffed out to the humidity. And Zayn himself, while being questioned in bed by a group of notorious white police, his story would be wide spread on the Internet which was so baffling that people thought it was another article from the Onion. Later he would become a Twitter hashtag, a new Tumblr meme, the top trending Reddit and a BuzzFeed quiz ("Are you the camera guy or the kissing guy?").

But that still hadn't happened after a few seconds into the kiss. There was no attack and any dramatic reaction. And, strangely, he could even feel Harry pushing back with his tongue; his heartbeats, his temperature, the lavender fragrance, and the water upon his skin. Zayn's head was still flooded with strange imaginations, about the consequence of this kiss, and Harry's tempting touching.

So his hand travelled down to Harry's nape, following the curve of his back until he touched the soft fabric around Harry's waist. With his cheeks burning and his lungs drying, Zayn loosed his grip for both of them to gulp for air. His mind started to make sense again as oxygens pouring back to his brain. He wanted to scream, or run. He'd better run; running back to his room, packing all his stuff and booking the first train in the morning back to Bradford because there's no reason for him to still live inside this apartment shamelessly. Zayn gasped, not even dare to give a simple glance to Harry.

Before he could react, Harry's palm just slapped across his face.

Zayn didn't even have time to recover from the shock, and Harry was already pushing him down to the couch. "Sit down." Harry ordered with a cold voice, putting his camera on the table a bit harshly. Zayn could hardly support himself up, especially when Harry's weight was all over his body now. And he couldn't even see Harry's face through the broken light above them.

That was unexpected. And Zayn wasn't really expecting anything other than being kicked out of the room – that would be the mildest result for him to handle. He tried to make a sound, but Harry leaned forward and shut him with another kiss. It wasn't as confusing and embarrassing as the first one, but more sensual and passionate. Harry was not gentle at all, and Zayn's cheek was still aching from the pain.

He shifted his hands upward and felt Harry's thighs, sliding underneath the towel. Harry opened his eyes. He took a glimpse at Zayn's action, then drifting his lips away. His hands moved down to Zayn's sweatpants.

"Ugh."

Zayn made an awkward sound that was just not for the moment. He pulled his hands back abruptly and grasped Harry's wrists before he went further. Harry raised his head and glared at Zayn, "The fuck do you want?"

"You." Zayn uttered bluntly, and he didn't even realise what he just said until he saw the first blush on Harry's face. The rosy colour reddened as Harry started giggling – at least that's how Zayn explained the satisfied noise coming out of his mouth. He flung his hands to loose Zayn's grip, and then continued to finish his uncompleted job. Zayn could shutter as he felt Harry's long fingers around his warmth. They were only a piece of cloth away.

"What?" Harry asked teasingly, "Running out of your courage?" He straightened his index finger and middle finger, walking upward through Zayn's belly, chest, collarbones, lips and then stopped on his forehead with a flick, and those two evil dimples appeared on Harry's cheeks. "You started it. Now you better finish it as well. Plus –" Harry smiled. With a couple seconds of pause, he stripped down the towel around his waist, throwing it to the floor. "I'm naked now."