the pool in his backyard ➳ zarry

oh god i never thought we'd take it that far

Next door, the light flickered on and off.

On. Off.

On for two seconds.

Then off.

He knew that was Zayn.

Sitting up on his bed, Harry sighed and walked over to his window, pushing it up to open it. 

Zayn's window was already open and he was leaning out the side, shirtless like always. Sometimes Harry wondered if Zayn owned any shirts, but then he remembered most of Zayn's shirts are in his closet.

"Your Mum's not home is she?" Zayn whisper-shouted and Harry shook his head.

"Work trip still," he said simply.

"Can I come over?" 

Harry nodded. "Obviously,"

During the summer, this happened often. Zayn would go leave from his backdoor, then run through his backyard and to Harry's by climbing the fence.

Harry left the backdoor open for Zayn when his mother left on business trips which were quite often. 

Within seconds, Harry heard the creak of his backdoor so he slid on his school sweatshirt on and ran down the stairs to find Zayn pushing a glass against the fridge's water dispenser.

"Hi," he smiled. "Just felt like coming over,"

Harry shook his head and leaned against the middle counter. "No worries,"

Zayn downed his glass of water and put his cup in the dishwasher, motioning for Harry to go upstairs with him.

Harry followed behind Zayn idly, watching how each of his legs stepped up onto the stairs and listening to the sound of his hand slide up the dull railing. 

Zayn sat down on Harry's bed, streaks of moonlight from Harry's window washing over his bare stomach.

Harry laid down opposite to Zayn, his head at the bottom of his bed and his feet underneath his pillow. 

"You know Niall is throwing a kegger tomorrow," Zayn said softly. 

Harry turned onto his side, holding his head up with his hand, his elbow sinking into his mattress.

"Oh wow, you crazy party boy," Harry said in a mocking tone, smirking.

"You know I'm not!" Zayn crossed his arms over his chest. "I just want to go.. You should come,"

"I don't know," Harry rolled onto his back. "I'm not really feeling a party," 

"You're so boring, you know that?" Zayn flopped onto his stomach, his face now inches away from Harry's ear.

Pins and needles.

Zayn leaned in, cupping around Harry's ear with his hands and whispering: "I will turn you into a party boy,"

His hot breath seemed to trickle down Harry's neck, goosebumps rising causing Harry to sit up, one of his legs now dangling off the right side of his bed.

"Keep on wishing," Harry said, fiddling with his sheets.

"Can I tell you something?" Zayn sat up too, facing Harry, his legs now crossed.

"Anything," Harry said, his eyes still on his sheets.

"You know Perrie?" he said quickly without thought.

"Obviously," Harry chuckled. "She's stunning,"

"Yeah," Zayn nodded. "Guess what?"

Harry raised his gaze, now looking at Zayn. "What?" he said mockingly.

Zayn shoved him gently with a laugh. "She's going to be at Niall's party,"

Harry tilted his head. "Cool,"

"Uh-huh," Zayn laid back down and started tracing shapes with his finger on Harry's sheets.

"What about it?" Harry questioned, finally realizing he wasn't being interested enough in the subject. 

"Nothing," Zayn shrugged. "It's no big deal,"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Since when were we being weird about things?"

"Since never," Zayn protested, turning his head to look at Harry.

"Okay then get to the point then,"

"Okay fine," Zayn said. "'M gonna try to ask her out," he practically mumbled.

"You're what?" Harry heard it the first time. He just wanted to hear it again.

Zayn brought his hand up to his forehead, massaging it with a sigh. "I'm gonna ask her out," he said coolly.

Harry sucked in his bottom lip. It's not like Zayn hasn't talked about girls. It's just that Zayn had never sounded this serious about it.

"For real?" Harry asked, quite frankly, surprised.

"Yeah," Zayn smiled a little. "For real,"

"Think she'll say yes?"

Zayn went back to tracing circles on Harry's sheets. "I'm not getting my hopes up. It's kind of a stretch I know,"

"No, no!" Harry put his hand on top of Zayn's out of reflex.

But this time it felt different. Again.

"It's not a stretch at all," Harry said. "She's pretty cool. And you're cool. So.. It would work," 

Zayn stifled a laugh, sitting up once again and sliding his hand out from Harry's.

He couldn't sit still. 

"That was so kind of you," he spoke sarcastically.

"You are very welcome,"

It was quiet between the two, until Zayn trailed his fingers up Harry's bare thigh, walking the tips of his fingers up and down casually.

Harry sat there. What the fuck?

Pins and needles.

"You think I can do it?" Zayn asked, his voice small.

Harry breathed in quietly, his voice a tad bit shaky. "Yes, you can do it," 

Zayn lifted his fingers and stood up, stretching. "So you have to come to the party with me now," his voice was back to normal.

Groaning, Harry threw his body down on his bed, his head hitting his pillow.

"Fine," he dragged out. "I'll do that for you,"

"Okay cool," Zayn said, trailing out of Harry's room.

He stopped in the threshold, leaning against the wooden outline. "Goodnight Harry," 

Harry threw a pillow at Zayn, Zayn stumbling back with laughter.

"Get some sleep," Harry grinned, and Zayn smiled before running down the stairs. 

Harry laid back in his bed for a moment, exhaling as if he had forgotten how to breathe when Zayn had been here five seconds earlier.

It was always like this with Zayn. This wasn't new.

Maybe Harry was overwhelmed with the fact that Zayn is so damn hyper. Harry doesn't question it. He's used to it.

As he got up to retrieve the pillow he had thrown at Zayn, the light next door went flickered again.

On for two seconds.

On. Off.

Harry waited a minute to see if Zayn had anything else to say. Inching back up his bed, Harry reached for his nightside table right beside the window.

He repeated Zayn's pattern.

On for two seconds.

On. Off.

Goodnight Zayn.