[social media ❦ crack fic]
zayn randomly decides to prank text his number neighbor during quarantine because there's nothing better to do. who knew his number neighbor would be so hot?
bottom!harry as always ❦
[disclaimer: harry is older than zayn]
...
they couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other the entire way back to harry's house. zayn always seemed to find some way to touch harry—whether it was lingering on his thigh, playing with his soft curls, or just straight-up holding his hand. the older man was so responsive too. he accepted every touch, every smile, every lustful look that zayn sent him, and he reciprocated it all with a subtle fierceness that zayn found incredibly attractive.
the tension in the car was palpable. zayn secretly wished he hadn't invited niall along so he could tell harry to pull over into the nearest parking lot and take him right there in the car. hell, he wouldn't even have to pull over because harry's car did in fact have autopilot. he could fuck him right there in the driver's seat, all while moving through the LA traffic in his completely tinted tesla. he never let his hands move too far from the wheel, though, always keeping at least one on the leather even if zayn was claiming the other one in his own.
the sun was just beginning to set once they were finally back at harry's house. niall and ares had fallen asleep in the back seat, and were passed out for nearly the entire hour that they were in the car. they spent most of the time touching and talking aimlessly about their lives and just enjoying each other's company. they had their first in-person disagreement over whether doja cat was underrated or not, which harry said yes to and zayn said no, but they quickly forgot about that after realizing they both love bob marley and bill withers.
legends.
waking up niall and a five year old kid proved to be harder than zayn anticipated, and harry ended up carrying ares into the house while the boy was slumped against his shoulder, a little drool dripping down his chin. zayn swears it was still the cutest thing he's ever seen in his fucking life, besides harry himself.
zayn made niall help him with the luggage, telling harry to go ahead and put ares down for a nap, once he finally got the man awake.
the first words out of niall's mouth when his eyes landed on the house in front of them were, "holy shit."
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(also yes... i used his actual la home bc daddy's rich wbk)
which... his reaction was justified because this wasn't just any house—it was a goddamn mansion. the architecture was excruciatingly modern, all smooth edges and large windows, and nothing like the image that zayn had in his head of what it would look like. well, actually... he didn't have an imagine in his mind. he'd only caught a few brief glimpses of the backyard, but for the most part he only ever saw harry's room, so the exterior was quite a shock to him.
and niall, of course.
"fuck it. i'm becoming a porn star too," niall grumbled once they had their bags in hand, and zayn would have slapped him if his hands weren't full of luggage.
