𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 » 𝐳.𝐬.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

Harry was drunk.

actually, he was plastered.

after three shirley temples and three spontaneous shots of tequila, his mind was buzzing and everything felt a little too hot.

tequila is like liquid courage, babe.

that's what xander had told him when he ordered their first round of shots, trying to convince a reluctant harry who was already slurring his words after his third mixed drink. if he could go back in time, he'd smack xander in the face and then himself for being so stupid.

you really are a lightweight, huh?

apparently, yes he was.

he didn't quite remember what happened after their last round of shots. he recalled xander leading him to the dance floor, the feeling of those large hands heavy on his hips and that soft mouth pressed against the side of his neck.

touch him like this. gentle, not too obvious. make him want more.

harry shivered as he made his way out of the elevator, the remnants of xander's voice still resonating in his ears. he stumbled over his feet, boots squeaking against the tiles much too loudly for his own liking as he approached the door to zayn's apartment.

be brave but subtle.

he wasn't sure if he could do that now if he's being honest with himself. the fluorescent lights in the hallway were so harsh he was struggling to open his eyes and the walls were wavering around him, the paint appearing to melt into the floor.

that made him feel woozy on top of the headache that was already pulsing against his temples, his throat tight and his stomach in knots. he didn't feel right.

he shouldn't be this drunk off of three shots.

nevertheless, he fumbled with the door handle for a moment before it successfully clicked open, a sigh of relief bleeding from his lips. the foyer was dark as he stepped inside, a distant gray light registering in his head.

he closed the door behind him and stepped forward, stumbling over his boots once again. he tripped on the edge of a tile and fell forward, his knees crashing into floor with a loud crack. he yelped in surprise, though his body was unable to recognize the pain just yet.

he simply rolled over, giggling a little at how much of a mess he was as he kicked off his boots, leaving them laying about in the dark. he then began unzipping his jacket, whining when the zipper got caught around his midsection.

once the zipper was finally free and his jacket was off, he stood up on shaky legs before carefully walking into the living space, using his feet to feel out the step so he wouldn't trip again.

he immediately noticed the blank television screen illuminating the room, allowing him just a little bit of vision in the sea of darkness around him.

he figured zayn had fallen asleep or gotten distracted and forgot about his movie, so he walked around the couch to grab the remote resting on the edge of the coffee table. he didn't notice the lump of cotton laying on the couch until after the tv was off, jumping in surprise and nearly knocking over one of the empty beer bottles on the table when he saw zayn's face turned towards him, eyes shut.

"z-" hiccup "-ayn," he whined, looking down at the table full of empty bottles. if he was in his right mindset, he'd clean up the table and turn the tv off so he could go lay down.

but he's not.

he's drunk.

and zayn just looks really pretty when he's asleep.

his face is relaxed, no signature furrow between his brows and no glasses covering his hazel eyes despite them being closed. the wrinkles by his eyes have subsided but the gray around his temples and was still there, the only true indication of his age.

harry took a moment to admire him. zayn was asleep and he was tipsy and nobody had to know.

he knelt down beside the edge of the couch, gripping the cushion as he leaned in close. he could feel the air escaping through zayn's slender nose, the scent of alcohol surrounding them both.

harry sighed softly, resting his head next to zayn's on the decorative pillow he was using as support. he stared at the older man, overwhelmed by how much he felt for him. even when zayn called him a burden or told him he never wanted to see him again, all he could think about was how much he loved him.

even when zayn fucked his assistant professor and left hickeys on his neck, harry was still hopelessly in love with him.

his mind and his heart and all of his senses were consumed by zayn who was sleeping mere centimeters from his face. it was inconsiderate of him, truly, to leave himself in such a vulnerable position when he knew how much harry loved him. how much he craved him.

but it's his own fault, what happens next. he wasn't thinking straight in any sense of the word. zayn was right there and harry was to inebriated to stop himself before he was leaning in, tilting his chin forward to gently brushing their lips together.

the man made no movement, no waver in his breathing, no indication that he was aware of what was happening. so harry pressed their lips together more firmly, his eyes fluttering shut when he felt the tickle of zayn's beard on his mouth. he nearly giggled—and maybe he did, he couldn't be too sure.

he stole a few more seconds of the innocent kiss, a brief touch of their lips, before he finally pulled away. he heart was warm and there was a small smile on his face, even though he knew if zayn were awake he'd probably kill him dead.

when he sat back on his knees, he gripped the edge of the couch cushion to steady himself before opening his eyes. but what he saw in the dark made his heart stop, his palms immersed with sweat when he found dark amber eyes staring back at him.

he felt like his life was flashing before his eyes, a silent film playing in his mind of zayn grabbing an empty bottle and smashing it over his head in disgust.

it was ridiculous, really, but it still made his mouth go dry.

he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the blow, for the yelling, for something, but it never came. instead, he felt a hand against the back of his neck and slender fingers sliding into the tight ringlets there at the base. he shivered, goosebumps prickling his skin as he was suddenly tugged forward and felt those soft velvet lips against his.

his eyes popped open and nearly bulged out of his head when he felt zayn's tongue sliding across his lower lip. his mind and heart were racing, his throat growing tight at the idea of zayn kissing him back.

but it was short lived, as most things were in harry's life. the tightness in his throat wasn't just from nerves, it was also from the three shots of tequila sloshing around in his stomach waiting to be purged.

and just as zayn pried his mouth open with his tongue, he suddenly ripped away from the older man and threw up all over himself and into his lap.

perfect.

—

A/N: that genuinely grossed me out tbh shdksl i'm so sorry