Whispers (Ziall/Zarry)

Chapter eight

Niall rushes past the long coridors to get through the teacher's parking lot. There wasn't really a beneficial shortcut to help him reach Harry in record time. Even bypassing Mr. Witherspoon caused a bit of a delay as the man asked why he was spot free cleaning the floor with his grubby rummage-sale trainers.

It took a good five minutes before he spotted Zayn's car beside Mr. Cowell's Volkswagen Beetle. Niall tentatively squinted his eyes to see through the front window of his car but to no avail. It was well tinted and due from where he was standing in front of the vehicle, nose scrunched, brows knitted together almost replicating a monobrow, he must've been making a big fool of himself.

He soon stood a foot away from the car's driver seat and knocked, twice and unsure.

Within a second, the door opens. Niall swings it wider and sees Zayn gripping on the steering wheel. Harry was next to him, all smiles and sunshine. "Hey Nialler!" Harry greets with his usual dimply beam.

"Hey." Niall replies, quite affronted of what he was seeing.

Harry was a mess. Lips red and abused, hair tousled and matted with sweat and his bright cheeks were too conspicuous Niall could distinguish them in the dim constricted car.

"Harry, get out. We're going back." He mumbled quietly but loud enough for the other boy to perceive. Harry awkwardly giggled, but Niall was so sure his frown wasn't anything to laugh girlishly at. He's planning on killing Harry once he's out.

"Uhm, tell coach I'm sick?" Harry dumbly suggests. Niall's not planning anymore. He really is gonna kill Harry.

"Look. First of all, Coach saw you earlier looking livelier as ever, not a single hint of subversion. And telling him you suddenly got sick will earn me a slap on the face because fuck you Harry. Fuck you for being such an idiot! Skipping like we're up against the lamest team in England!" Niall kept his hands balled on his sides. He didn't care if Zayn was right there watching his eyes go wide with rage and nose flaring from his sudden combustion.

God forbid he wanted to blame the older man as well. He's such a distraction to Harry, why the fuck was he even here in the first place?

"Niall, honey calm down." Said man finally speaks and brushes his fingers on Niall's arm. The younger boy immediately retracts and glared at him.

"Don't touch me! What are you even doing here Mr. Malik?! Why is Harry inside your car?! And to top it all he looks like a fucking mess!"

Harry halts whatever action he was doing, breathing included. Zayn, well, he just refrains himself from smiling.

"Nialler," Zayn tries the nickname and would you look at that, he's hard. Harry's fully aware of the obscene bulge forming in Zayn's pants and wants to lean southward to suck the older man dry in front of his best friend. "I apologize for stepping inside the premises but Harry here is a nice lad. He's a good company. I thought visiting him after work would be nice."

"Well clearly Mr. Malik you're distracting him from practice." Niall didn't bother with the way he was addressing his older neighbor. He crosses his arms against his chest as he examines the two with his skeptical gaze.

"Harry." His slitted eyes were now focused on his best friend. "Lets go." Niall repeats in a tone Harry could never say no to.

Harry slips out of the car as soon as Niall already went on the other side. "I'm sorry, he's on his period." The curly boy flashes Zayn an apologetic smile, somewhat taking the secondhand embarrassment before he scurries out of the car and ran along with Niall.

Teach that kid a lesson.

The creases forming on his forehead was something he didn't foreknow. Why was he scowling anyway?