Deep (Zarry AU)

Angle

Zayn, July 2013

The photoshoot had gone on too long. It was hot in the studio and the boys - in sharp, tight, sixties-style suits: all textured black fabric against stark, white backgrounds - were getting silly. Harry had quickly tired of the sample-size Dior suit and was walking around, eating dim sum from a tiny dish with tiny chopsticks, a ruffled silk shirt wide open over his skinny jeans; Niall had started throwing mini-spring rolls from the catering table over the backdrops to where Liam was posing for his close-up. A couple of times one had hit Liam in the face (the photographer had walked away in exasperation). There were already some choice shots on the contact sheet where an airborne hors d'oeuvre appeared to be hovering above Liam's brooding cover-boy gaze. Watching Liam try to ignore Niall's culinary missiles, Harry was no longer able to hold it together and had creased with laughter, falling backwards as he did so, and into Louis' arms. Zayn was looking on; his own laughter beginning to ebb away. As Zayn watched, a peculiar redness seemed to spread across Louis' face. Harry righted himself, clearing his throat and scraping the long fingers of one wide, tanned hand through his lopsided hair. He was pursing his lips; hiding a smile. Zayn would normally have turned away at this point; turned in on himself as he did when things got boring or pointlessly silly, losing himself in the music on his phone or his latest game. But this time he stood back, chewing on a particularly tough strip of beef jerky, and watching carefully from afar. Harry was whispering something to Louis, and Zayn saw Louis trail his hand absentmindedly across Harry's waist in response. The hand dropped as Harry turned and stepped back, but it didn't. It stroked Harry's ass.

Zayn stopped chewing for a moment, blinked twice.

Had he really seen that, or had he imagined it?

Harry was behaving as if nothing had happened, coughing and pulling at the waistband of his jeans, eyes downcast as if to avoid meeting gazes, a slight smile on his lips. Louis was looking the other way, his arms folded just a bit too tightly.