Hi, hello. I'm looking at these prompts and I really like the sound of 4. if you'd want to give it a try?
this got far too long, i’m sorry, so i wrapped it up quickly! it felt never ending lol. thank you babe!
04. I’m tired of my friends/family setting me up on horrible blind dates so I made up a relationship and now they want to meet this mystery person
What does Zayn need an alarm for when he has someone banging on his door so loudly they must be using the palm of their hands to recreate some otherworldly drum beat?
“Fucking stop it,” he calls out as he rolls off the sofa, landing on his hands and knees and praying for his head to stop spinning. The fourth shot last night had been a miscalculation and the sixth had been a huge mistake. “I will pay you to stop,” he says as the knocking continues.
Rhino is losing his mind, pacing in front of the door with a stuffed toy in his mouth and his tail whacking a thudthudthud against the hardwood floors.
He finally gets to his feet and opens the door to his flat, not bothering to check if it’s a murderer because only one person in the whole entire world would ever act so obnoxiously the day after Zayn’s birthday. Only Harry Styles knows he can pout his way back into Zayn’s good graces after this stunt.
Harry breezes into his flat, tossing his hipster hat and scarf on Zayn’s kitchen table with a pat to Rhino’s head. Why he bothered to put on a scarf when he lives four doors down is a mystery. “Finally,” he says, his voice low and quick with exasperation and far, far too loud for the way Zayn feels.
“I think I’m still drunk from last night,” Zayn says, dragging his feet across the room and pulling a water bottle from the fridge. He tosses Rhino a treat from the bowl on the worktop. Harry’s making himself at home in the main sitting area, flipping through Zayn’s records like he’s on a mission. “Did I steal one of yours, or something?” Zayn asks, shuffling back to the sofa. He gets shocked twice when he sits and he chugs half of the bottle in his hand in one go.
“What?” Harry asks, voice still entirely too loud. He looks to the four records he’s already got in his hand. “Oh, no, just looking. Anyway, I came here to ask you a favour.”
“Hell of an entrance if you want to be on my good side,” Zayn comments. Harry smiles at him with just the right amount of dimple in it and he starts crawling across the floor. “Oh, leave me alone,” Zayn bitches though he’s already smiling by the time Harry is climbing onto his lap like an oversized dog. He’s worse than Rhino, who has passed out again in his dog bed.
“Did I hurt your head?” Harry asks, nuzzling into his neck. “I’m sorry, maybe I’d know how you felt if you’d invited me out.”
Zayn snorts and pushes Harry away, letting him fall onto the sofa next to him. For all that Harry’s made himself at home in Zayn’s flat this morning, they’ve only met a few weeks ago when Harry had moved into the building. It’s quite astonishing, actually, that Zayn’s grown so comfortable with him this quickly but he reckons Harry is just like that.
“What kind of favour do you want?”
Harry frowns and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Ineedyoutobemyboyfriend.”
Even sober, Zayn doesn’t think he could understand that. “Once again,” he prompts.
“I need you to be my boyfriend,” Harry says in his usual slow drawl. Zayn can feel his eyebrows shoot straight into his hairline and Harry must see the look on his face because he flushes. “I… well…”
“Shouldn’t you, like, ask me out first?” Zayn says, trying to find reason in this conversation.
Harry’s eyebrows furrow close to touching in confusion, like he isn’t the one responsible for their current predicament.
Zayn tries to clarify. “Boyfriend is kind of… a third date conversation.”
Understanding floods Harry’s eyes like a sunrise. “Oh, shit. Oh, sorry, no. Nononono, I mean. Okay, so my mum’s always on my case about dating and she’s roped my friends into setting me up so I, well, I told her I’m seeing someone and you’re… someone.”
“I am someone,” Zayn says, agreeing on instinct. “Why me?”
“You don’t know how involved in my life my mum is; she knows everything about me. She knows every one of my friends, most of my coworkers. Half of my graduating class sent her thank you notes for gifts she gave them. You’re new, she didn’t know you yet.”
Zayn rolls his eyes and finishes his water bottle. “So, how did this happen?”
“Well, I don’t love lying to my mum,” Harry admits, getting off the sofa and going to mess with Rhino. “I had been telling her I was seeing someone and she didn’t need too many details at first but she started calling my old flatmate and asking him so I just… I gave her your name.”
“When?” Zayn asks, suddenly amused. He didn’t think Harry was a cure for a hangover but he’s barely feeling the pressure in his head anymore. He smashes the bottle and gives it to Rhino when the dog leaves Harry behind to chase the crinkle sound he’d made.
Harry makes a face and Zayn’s amusement grows.
“When did you tell your mum I’m your boyfriend, Haz?”
“The day after I moved in,” Harry admits sulkily.
Zayn doesn’t hold his laughter in. “Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?”
“Well, mum’s coming in for my birthday and she wants to have dinner with my boyfriend.”
Zayn laughs too hard to continue talking and Harry’s pouting face keeps him from catching his breath fully for a long, long time.
“I’m not saying this is a dumb idea,” Zayn says and Harry cuts him off.
Zayn nudges him, hitting right in the spot that he knows is Harry’s most ticklish point, and Harry smacks him back. They push back-and-forth like children wrestling and it’s then, of course, that Anne walks up and finds them.
“Should I be concerned that you’re abusing your boyfriend, love?”
Zayn’s spoken on the phone and through FaceTime a few times so he pulls her into the first hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Haz couldn’t hurt a fly,” he says.
“Hiya, dear, you alright?” she asks, kissing him back and squeezing him tight. She’s such a mum it makes him instantly homesick and he lets her hold on for an extra few seconds before allowing Harry to push his way through.
“Mine,” Harry says possessively, wrapping Anne in both his arms and lifting her from the floor. “Hiya, mummy.”
“Hi, babe,” she says, linking their arms together once he releases her. “You hungry? I’m starved.”
“We’ve got lunch setup back at my place,” Zayn says. “Did you want to go somewhere, though?”
“No, darling, that sounds great. You driving?”
Harry laughs, snorting into her shoulder. “Zayn doesn’t drive.”
“I hated it myself until I had two little ones to lug around,” Anne says, patting Zayn’s arm gently. “You two will figure that out at your own pace, though.”
“We’ve not even been here two minutes and you’re already talking about babies.”
Zayn rolls his eyes. Harry talks about babies almost daily. Zayn knows every name he’s ever considered for a daughter and could narrow Harry’s top three for a son without even trying. He’s braided Harry’s curls while listening to him talk about his five year plan and year four, day thirty-seven, hour nine involves beginning the process for adoption because Harry’s heart is too large to not take in children who need homes and support.
Zayn climbs into the backseat, insisting Anne take the front. “I’m safer back here, anyway,” he jokes, sprawling across the back.
“I’m getting better,” Harry insists. “No accidents so far this year.”
“Well, it’s only February so that isn’t saying much.”
Rhino loves Anne, of course, flirting with her with his still-puppy growls and bringing her several toys to choose from before waiting patiently for her to toss them.
“It’s so nice that you found a place so close to your beau,” Anne says, halfway through her salad. “Was it too soon for you two to just live together?”
“A bit, mum,” Harry says. “We’ve only been dating a bit.”
“I know, I know. You’ve always fallen fast, though, and I can see how well you two get on.”
“Zayn likes me still because he doesn’t have to clean up after me,” Harry teases and Anne and Zayn both laugh.
“How does your family like my boy?”
“Oh,” Zayn says, unable to contain his exhale. He’s prepped for this fake-boyfriend role a bit but he hasn’t really thought about answering this one. “They haven’t met, yet.”
“I get to be the first,” she says with excitement. “I’d love to get to know your parents, Zayn. Have your mum give me a call sometime.”
Zayn nods, his cheeks heated. “Of course.”
Harry frowns at him from across the table and Zayn pulls a face to help lift the tension.
“I’m sorry,” Anne says, not fooled for a moment. “I didn’t mean to make this weird. I’m just excited you two are happy exactly as you are. Not saying anything else about it.”
Zayn leans to his left and presses a kiss to Anne’s cheek. “All is good, love. Do you want more water? We’ve got some wine too.”
“Oh, I’d love some wine. You drinking?”
“Zayn’s still hungover from his birthday a couple weeks ago,” Harry says, his eyes wide once he’s finished talking. He mouths I’m sorry as Zayn stands up and Zayn pauses, confused.
“I missed your birthday?” Anne asks, her tone sharp with shock.
“Mum, it isn’t missing a birthday if you didn’t know him yet.”
“And who’s fault is that? You and your secrets, Harry. Oh, Zayn, let’s skip the lunch wine and let’s go do something for your birthday.”
Zayn smiles, overwhelmed with fondness. “We don’t need to,” he says. “I want this to be about Harry. He’s the birthday boy this weekend.”
He scuttles into his kitchen, five whole heartbeats away from the dining room table. “I love your mum,” he tells Harry in what he hopes is a whisper when Harry follows him.
“You sure? You look spooked.” Harry pulls him into a hug, pressing his lips to Zayn’s hair.
Zayn shrugs and smiles. “Just homesick. Gonna make you return the favour for my parents now.”
“I’ll do it,” Harry offers easily. “I’d love to meet your parents.”
