day one - crisp air
prompt list here and first sentence generated here
Bash had made a poor job of hiding the damage.
Even with his eyes half open against the morning sun and only a single sip of coffee in his body, Zayn sees the dent in the car from the dining room’s floor-to-ceiling windows. He takes another sip from his mug and then a third, running his options through his still half-asleep mind.
One: he could go into Bash’s room, wake him up, and demand to know exactly what in the hell happened to the car.
Two: he could inject some coffee directly into his veins and get dressed, take the car to the shop, and have it fixed before Harry notices.
Three: he could refill his mug, pull his robe a little tighter around himself, and take the dogs out to sit by the pool and let his Saturday morning play out as-is.
With a sigh, he ties the sash of his robe and shuffles back towards the caffeine. He fills his mug, using his thumb to wipe away a few drops that hit the stone counter, and whistles for the two shepherd dogs. They come loping out of the front room where they like to watch the lizard in its terrarium and follow Zayn out into the backyard.
The pool is done for the season, the crisp air holding more of a December chill than a November one and Zayn thanks his past self for remembering his warmer slippers when he’d gotten out of bed twenty minutes ago. He takes a seat next to the firepit he can never manage to turn on and stares at the crater in the front of Harry’s favorite car.
His coffee mug is empty and cold by the time Harry comes out searching for him. Zayn tilts his head back for a kiss and gets a hand in Harry’s curls to keep their lips together an extra second when it seems like Harry is going to pull away. He knows the car is going to have all of Harry’s attention when he sees it and he’d like soak in the last peaceful moment.
The air is cold around his mouth when Harry pulls back and Zayn feels a coil of lust in his belly when he watches the way Harry is slow to blink open his eyes.
The dogs are ecstatic to see Harry and he gives them all the attention they beg for, practically picking up one of the sixty pound Tervurens before finding a discarded ball and tossing it for them to chase after. Toothy takes off first and has it in his oversized jaw before his sister Chomps even thinks to start running.
Toothy and Chomps are the names you get when you let a then-five year old pick out what to call her Christmas present puppies and the then-thirteen and then-seven year olds both get on board before Zayn can suggest other names.
“Apparently your back is feeling better,” Zayn says with a grin, his hand making to lift his mug from the side table before he remembers it’s empty. “You might want to take a calming breath, though.”
Harry frowns.
Zayn nods his head towards the car. “Kid didn’t even have the foresight to park it in front of the house,” he says with a grin. “We might not have seen it until Monday.”
Harry glances over briefly before turning back to Zayn. Zayn watches as the confusion in his narrowed eyes flicks over to shock as they widen and Harry does a double-take. “What the bloody hell,” he says, his eyes clearly zero’d in on the damage. “I’m going to do an actual murder.”
“Oh, can it wait until next week?” Zayn teases. “Drew’s birthday is in a few days and she’ll never forgive you if you kill her favourite brother.”
“Bash is her only brother,” Harry says on reflex. “I’ll get her a new one, though. A replacement.”
Zayn snorts. “Get me a replacement coffee?” he asks, picking up the mug and handing it over.
“I can’t believe you’re not more upset about this.” Harry wraps his hands around the mug.
“Well, I heard him snoring up a storm and tripped over his trainers on the way into the kitchen this morning so I know he’s okay. There’s no paint transfer so he probably hit a bin.”
“A bin did not do that.”
“Well, neither did a person, a tree, or another car. All in all, it’s much better than the first accident you got in.”
“Mum exaggerated that dent.”
“The headlights were hanging on the ground.” Zayn argues. “One from each car.”
Harry waves his hand in dismissal before he heads into the house. “Sebastian Carter Moreno Styles, I want a full and detailed report.”
Zayn snorts. His nose is a bit cold at the tip from the autumn air and he rubs at it lightly. His robe is warm and he pulls one side up a bit to tuck his nose under. He should probably head into the house and assist Bash but the lad is seventeen and knew what he was doing when he snuck out his dad’s car without one: permission or two: a licence.
The shouting is a bit muffled, none of the windows open the way they are all summer long, but the words get more clear as the double doors open and two little girls come out. The taller of the two remembers to shut the doors behind them and their smiles are identical when they look over and see Zayn on his chair.
He has just enough time to protect his groin as they run and jump into his lap, ten and eight year old knees hitting everywhere else. “Oof,” Zayn says reflexively, gathering them up in his arms. “How’re my girls today?”
“Daddy’s sooooo mad,” Drew says with a giggle, shying away when Zayn’s cold nose hits her cheek. “Baba no, gosh. You’re ridiculous.”
“What did Bash do?” Eight year old Bailey says, pulling away first and throwing herself at Chomps with all of her might. The three year old dogs practically worship the ground Bailey walks on and they nuzzle at her face and hands in turn, soaking up the attention as if Harry hadn’t just spoiled them moments before.
Drew’s still warm against his side and Zayn gets a hand in her dark hair, fingering out some knots absentmindedly. “Daddy will tell you,” he says. He tucks his cold nose against Drew’s hair and she doesn’t pull away for long enough that it almost feels warm when she does.
Harry’s face is maroon when he comes back outside and he only softens a little when he sees the girls playing with the dogs.
“Did you kill him, daddy?” Drew calls out, skipping over to Harry. She’s still in her nightshirt with a thin robe flying out behind her as she side-steps her way across the yard. Zayn feels bad that he didn’t check to see if she was wearing shoes before now and he feels better about his parenting when he sees slippers on her feet much like the ones he’s wearing.
Bailey is properly dressed for the early morning, at least, wearing joggers that were her brother’s a decade ago and a thick sweatshirt. Her boots stomp on the ground as she chases the dogs around in circles, unconcerned that Harry’s forehead vein looks ready to burst.
“No, I didn’t kill him,” Harry says, his jaw still tight as he tries to smile. “I wouldn’t kill him right before your birthday, he’s your favorite brother.”
“He’s my only brother,” Drew says, echoing his early words. “Can you spin me?”
“Not right now, baby,” Zayn says, sitting up straighter and taking the hot mug of coffee Harry offers him before Harry settles down next to him. “Let daddy calm down.”
Drew snorts and gallops off again, deciding that playing with her little sister is just as fun as playing with her dad.
“What did he say?” Zayn asks, the coffee warming him from the inside out again.
“Hit a bin,” Harry says and Zayn keeps to himself the fact that he was right. He doesn’t need to say it aloud to know that they’re both aware. “He’s going to pay to have it fixed and won’t be driving again until he’s thirty-five.”
“Where was he going?” Zayn asks.
“Idk, some guy was having a party and Bash has been mooning over him. Thought he’d be the cool kid if he showed up in his dad’s convertible.”
Zayn tilts his head in acknowledgement. “I would have thought that kid was the best.”
Harry laughs, some more tension bleeding from his posture. “I was that kid. I just didn’t cause any damage.” Harry pauses. “That time.”
Zayn just takes another sip from his coffee, enjoying the warmth of his husband where they’re pressed together.
“I guess I was a little hard on him. It really doesn’t look that bad.”
“He could have been seriously hurt,” Zayn says calmly. “I think you were just the right amount of hard on him. And I’ll kill him for you if he ever does it again.”
“Aww, that’s true love,” Harry says with a laugh. He gets an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and Zayn lets himself be pulled closer. He chances a little kiss, relieved when he doesn’t hear any gagging sounds from the girls where they’re playing in the grass. Snuck one in.
“Let’s put him on babysitting duties and go for a drive,” Zayn says, his nose warm again from the hot drink. “Take me to our beach.”
“Not too cold for you?” Harry asks, his hand slipping down and holding Zayn’s elbow loosely. Zayn shakes his head and finishes his mug, pulling away. “You might want to tell him, I’m watching my blood pressure.”
Zayn stands and nods. “Give me a head start,” he teases, “I’ll tell Bash to keep away.”
