drabbles/ficlets.
seeing as i'm always up for writing and addicted to these five boys, i thought, why not?
leave me a pairing, prompt, and i'll write you a little ficlet/drabble!
ps i just want to really say a massive thank you for all of you commenting on my things, posted to the public or just here for fun. also, i want to say thank you for watching/joining ( Read more... )
leave me a pairing, prompt, and i'll write you a little ficlet/drabble!
ps i just want to really say a massive thank you for all of you commenting on my things, posted to the public or just here for fun. also, i want to say thank you for watching/joining ( Read more... )
Harry firsts notices it, the abundance of touching, when Zayn’s hand curls around his bicep and squeezes. Most people don’t mind it, brush it off as just a simple need to touch something, but Harry knows. Harry knows the meaning behind each squeeze, each time that Zayn pulls, because Zayn never pulls. Harry is always the one who pulls and pulls until Zayn breaks and comes tumbling towards him.
“Thought you wanted to keep this a secret?” Harry asks, mouth hidden by his hand. Liam shoots them a look from where he’s sitting next to Zayn, Louis squished tightly next to him. Harry waves his arm, hoping the radio interviewer can’t see.
Zayn leans back in his chair, fixes his hair a little bit. He licks his lips twice before he leans forward. Harry bends forward and Zayn says, “Secrets get tiring. Three sisters taught me that.”
Harry feels his chest clench, his fingertips burning.
*
Zayn gets more persistent with his touching. Harry sort of can’t help it, he’s never done well with keeping important things secret. Sometimes his eyes wander on Zayn’s lips for too long, eyes bored and blinking sleepily. Later, Zayn will crowd Harry into a corner and kiss him, finger pads brushing against the freckled skin of Harry’s glowing skin.
The touching because more noticeable, which Harry feels like he should’ve expected because their fan base gets a little crazy sometimes. Sometimes people ask him how Zayn is, giggling behind their hands and blushing. Harry feels himself blush, but puts it off to the heat and being around so many people, it gets to him sometimes.
“How are you doing, Haz?” Zayn asks, placing his hand on his hip.
Harry can’t help but smile, shy with his teeth gently sinking into his lip. He can see the girls in front of him taking their phone out, but all he can really pay attention to is Zayn.
“I’m fine, yeah.” Harry looks down, signing a piece of paper in front of him. Zayn’s hand is gone afterwards, and Harry thinks that maybe they are ready for more than hiding. He smiles through the rest of the day, the phantom press of Zayn’s hand staying with him all day.
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