╠ Shared! ╣

Zarry - Let You Know When I'm Ready

Drunk, but never too drunk. With Zayn, always.

It’s a side effect, honestly, of the way they live at the moment, the way that Louis is going out less and rooming with Eleanor when she joins them on tour, the way Harry and Zayn start sharing rooms. And Zayn’s always had occasional flings; they’re just that, occasional, no matter what Tumblr may claim. Harry’s bored, and asking for a single room is a hassle, and Zayn’s a good wingman.

So they pull girls together.

one;

It starts simply enough, really; it’s not a dark and stormy night or a once upon a time, but a day-off-tomorrow, everyone’s-out-and-it’s-okay-to-get-carried-away kind of night. Zayn’s always pulled easily enough- Harry’s the one eternally pinned as the charmer, but the way Zayn can chat up a girl (or when it gets down to it, a bloke, but that’s not as convenient) is effortless enough that Harry can safely admire it from afar.

The girl sitting across from Harry on a stool wears non-prescription glasses and laughs too much, but she has a great set of eyes that her low-cut top complements exquisitely.

Zayn is leaning against the bar in the corner, fingers loose around his perspiring glass, playing with the tiny straw lazily. The girl he’s talking to keeps watching the motion. It’s not hard for him to maintain an easy, shallow conversation with her, something about travel and music. He can’t help keeping an eye on Harry every now and then, glancing over to see his progress, how he’s leaning in closer to the loud brunette he’s been talking to for the last twenty minutes. 

The only reason it matters, Harry tells himself, if Zayn is talking to someone is that they’re rooming together and it’ll be impossible to get an extra room with Paul gone off to bed early. So Harry waits for the lull in the conversation that signals it’s about time he tapped the little round table he’s set his drink down on with his key card: he leans into this girl- Laura? Leah?- and offers to move their conversation somewhere a little more quiet and she nods easily enough. Harry’s eyes flicker towards the bar, where, with enough luck, Zayn’s probably doing the same.

Zayn’s not really sure what the protocol for bringing a girl back to your hotel room is when it’s already occupied- but texting Harry and putting their situation into words, asking permission, is not something he’s willing to do. So he just watches Harry lead his new friend towards the door, nods along to some comment his companion is making, and finishes his drink before touching her elbow. “You think you wanna...” and they’re following Harry and the other girl not ten minutes later.

;

When Zayn slides his card into the keyhole and opens the door, it’s not even the worst thing in the world to find that both Harry and the girl he’s with are still fully clothed and she’s limpeted to his neck.

“Lana here,” Harry begins in that slow, dragging rasp of his, ignores it when she detaches her mouth for a second to mutter whatever her real name might be, “says she’s kosher with sharing a room as long as you two are. I haven’t really thought of something to do if you’re not, though.”

“Perhaps toss a coin,” Zayn smirks, turns the charm on and directs it at the girl on his arm. “‘s it cool with you?”

“Uh,” she starts, and there’s a moment where Zayn thinks this is going to get extremely awkward. But then she shrugs and rolls her eyes at herself, “Sure.” Zayn grins and leans in to press his lips to her throat, and she giggles a little, and everything’s going to be just fine.

;

Harry is focused enough on Lana riding him that he only vaguely registers that Zayn’s gone for missionary. The view isn’t half bad but she toes the wrong side of the line on loudness, while, off to his left, the girl Zayn is with sounds a bit like she might be having an asthma attack at one point.