14
thanks!!! this was so much fun lol
14. our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so
Zayn knows to look for a brunette in a white jacket. He stands awkwardly next to the host stand at the front of the restaurant, his hands shoved in his pockets as he scans the bar two, three times before he finally watches someone shift away from their stool and reveal a man sat with his elbows on the bar, and a white shredded jean jacket on. Zayn sighs with relief and walks forward, weaving through a few people until he takes the now-vacant seat at the bar.
“Hey, I’m Zayn,” he says, placing a hand on the man’s arm. It takes Zayn an extra few seconds, until the man turns to face him, to realise he’s just sat down next to Harry freaking Styles.
The grin falls from Harry’s face quickly, replaced with the deepest, most confused frown Zayn has ever seen on the always-happy junior lead. Since they fought over a project summer before last, they’ve never had more than a cautiously polite relationship. The fact that Zayn still has his hand on Harry’s arm, frozen in shock, is so weird. He lets it drop.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, his eyes narrowing.
“Louis told me he was setting me up. I’m assuming he told you the same?”
“Niall,” Harry admits after a heartbeat. “This is rude.”
Zayn snorts.
Though they’ve worked together for nearly two years, Zayn’s never actually been close enough to Harry to smell his cologne. Now that they’re close enough they’re practically pressed together at the packed bar, though, it’s the only thing he can really think about. He’s silent for the longest moment while Harry finishes his drink.
“I’m going to have another one - do you want something?” he asks, flagging over one of the bartenders.
“Something strong,” Zayn says, feeling a bit off-center. He had thought either him or Harry would have left by now, exchanging pleasant ‘thank you but no thank you’s and calling it a day. There’s a smile creeping its way back into Harry’s expression, though, and it’s got Zayn hooked.
He takes the shot the bartender hands him, not even asking what it is before throwing it back. It burns.
Oh, it burns.
“That’s rude,” he says, coughing into his fist. Harry laughs and Zayn smiles, grabbing the tonic and lime chaser almost before the bartender can set it down. He realises mid-sip that he’s just lived through one of Harry’s hyena laughs without rolling his eyes.
“Mr. Styles, your table is ready.”
They turn in unison to look at the server before glancing at each other.
“You don’t… you’re not gonna go through with this, are you?” Zayn asks, caught still by the playfulness in Harry’s expression.
Harry shrugs and his smile grows. “If we leave now, they kind of win.”
Zayn thinks about it for a minute before turning his attention to the server again. “Let’s take that table, then,” he says with a nod.
