housekeeping - dark larry

Chapter One

The two men kept smiles on their faces, before shutting the door.

"Oh my God," the raven haired man groaned, rubbing his temples.

The green eyed man's smile faltered. "What was wrong with her?"

The black haired man's head shot up. "You're kidding me, right? I'm not letting some needle-sticking druggie in the house and letting them have their hands in my pockets."

The curly haired man rolled his eyes. His husband acted this way towards every person they interviewed so far. Nobody was perfect enough to manage their home. With Harry constantly being preoccupied with his bakery and Zayn pursuing his career as an artist, their home of five years had been becoming rougher around the edges.

Harry wrapped his arms around his husband's waist, resting his head on the raven haired boy's shoulder. "You know, we're never going to find anybody, if you're so picky," Harry pointed out, as their bodies began to rock side-to-side.

"We're never going to find anybody good, if you keep playing the sympathy card," Zayn admitted, with a small chuckle.

Harry groaned, before releasing his grip and turning around.

"Don't be like that," Zayn whined, playfully smacking the bottom of the taller man, who's mood had worsened. "Look, I got to go. I promised my mum I'd take her out to lunch."

Harry turned back around, a frown forming at his lips. "But we got one more person to interview. You can't wait a little while longer?"

Zayn shrugged. "I can't. She's been down my throat about this for the past three weeks. And in her own words, since I can't genetically give her grandchildren, I have to take all the love she was going to give to them."

Harry bit his lower lip. His mother in law, wasn't exactly as accepting to Zayn's sexuality, as Harry's parents were to him. Not to say, the woman was rude to Harry; she was very sweet to him, and always treated him as family. But it would be the constant remarks, such as grandchildren and society's viewpoints, that would upset Harry, even though it was oblivious to Zayn and harmless to his mother.

Zayn wrapped his pink lips around his husband's, before grabbing his set of keys off the kitchen's counter. "I'll be back before you even know it. And please, for the love of God, don't let any rehabilitated hippie pull you into some type of sob story."

Harry gave Zayn an annoyed look, which only made him laugh, as he walked out the door. Harry didn't deny that he usually thought more with his heart than his head, and he didn't understand why it bothered Zayn so much. Harry believed that some people get pushed into the wrong direction, and just needed motivation and a lending hand to help them through it. While, Zayn believed people only care about themselves and will never change.

Harry sighed to himself, before pulling out his phone from his back pocket. The next interview wasn't for a couple more minutes, so he didn't have to wait long. Scrolling through his messages, he seen he had a few from his employee, Liam, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Harry treated his bakery as if it was his own child, and it took ages for Zayn to finally convince Harry to hire someone to help ease up all the stress. Harry hastily agreed, only if he could get frequent check-ins from Liam, every hour or so; just to see if everything was in order. Liam thought the whole thing was ridiculous and an extreme lack in trust, but the pay was good, so he couldn't really complain that much.

A loud knock rang through Harry's ears as it came from the main door. With another sigh, he returned his phone to his back pocket, before walking down the narrow hallway.

"Hello," a cheeky blonde headed woman said. She was around her early thirties, with dull brown eyes, as dark as her roots, wearing a bright pink blouse and a loose knee-length skirt. "I'm Samantha Wilson."