chance connection |1| [zarry] (✔️)

fiftyfive

Harry wakes up to an empty bed. He stretches his arm across the space Zain should be in and frown, sitting up. He winces at the pull in his arse, feeling his cheeks flush and his cock twitch at the memory of Zain, inside him. His skin itches, old sweat and dried come all over him. He pulls a face and scratches his belly, staring at the bed. He'd need to change to sheets as well, he was not gonna leave this for the cleaning service.

The bathroom air is damp, smelling like Harry's soap and shampoo. He must have slept through Zain getting up and through him showering. It's slightly disconcerting because he hadn't thought he'd been that exhausted and usually he woke up when people started moving around him.

A glance at the clock on the bathroom counter tells him it's not even 8am, yet, so Zain must still be on Freddie time. He steps into he shower and turns the water on, holds his face into the spray, stretching out his sore muscles. His legs are slightly sore as well, not used to being held apart like that. It's different from the way he aches after sex usually, or after a show, but the exhaustion and the content feeling is the same. Maybe even better because he's never been held like that after, like he was someone to take care of.

Harry drops his forehead against the shower wall, wraps his hand around his cock and pulls himself off slowly, thinking about Zain's hands, Zain's mouth, Zain, Zain taking care of him. He comes quickly, aiming the shower head to wash away the evidence and bites his lip as she shampoos his hair.

For the first time in years, he's regretting having settled in LA and not London. He misses his mum and Gemma always, but missing Zain is still new and it's different from missing his mum, from missing Gemma. It feels more acute, more immediate. It had already felt like that when he'd left yesterday and it had only lasted a few hours until Gemma had texted. It will only be worse not that he's spent another night with him and then has to leave for almost two months.

He scrubs himself down with soap, wincing slightly as he cleans the come between his legs and presses a finger against his hole. He's sore but at the same time he wonders what it would feel like if Zain would push back in now, or maybe only a couple of fingers. He swallows and keeps himself from indulging again. He needs to leave in a few hours and he wants to spend the time with Gemma and his boyfriend. He'll be able to masturbate in LA on his own just as well.

He turns off the shower and towels himself dry quickly, pulling on travel-appropriate clothes that will allow him to blend in somewhat without making it seem too much like he's hiding.

Harry can hear Zain and Gemma laughing all the way down the stairs. From the way they both grin up at him when he appears in the living room, he knows they were laughing about him. Gemma is lying on the sofa, still dressed in last night's clothes, her eye make up smeared and her lipstick mostly rubbed off. Zain is sitting on the second sofa, dressed in one of Harry's sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt, legs splayed comfortably.

He pouts and hesitates for a moment before climbing on Zain's lap, burying his face in his neck. Gemma will just have to deal. Zain wraps an arm around him, kissing his temple and sneaking a hand under Harry's shirt, rubbing his lower back.

"What are you laughing about?" he asks, turning slightly to be able to look at Gemma as well.

"You," Gemma says, rolling her eyes like it's obvious, and Zain chuckles, kissing the top of Harry's head.

"Gem's been showing me videos of you falling down on stage, babe," he explains, smirking when Harry sits up indignantly. "It's very entertaining. Aw, don't pout," he adds, pecking Harry's lip and making it very hard for Harry to keep his frown on. "It's very dramatic."

"And embarrassing," Gemma smirks, "I've been waiting to show him for weeks. We are also going to listen to your songs on the way back. All the bad ones first of course."