Chapter Twenty Six

Harry Styles’ green eyes looked away from his bedroom ceiling and at the boy next to him. They were both laid out on Harry’s double bed, like the lazy teenage boys they were. Harry’s small TV was playing the film of Zayn’s choice, a Disney film, which Harry found adorable. Zayn’s brown eyes were stuck on the TV, and Harry had to admit that he had never seen the boy so transfixed in his entire time of knowing him. His chin was tucked into his arms, which were tucked in front of him, like a child watching the TV. There was a small smile that was stuck onto Zayn’s face as he got sucked into the words of the animated characters that were flashing before him.

Harry however, was laid out on his back, next to the boy. The Disney film hadn’t exactly caught his attention, yet even if it had, his conscience was rumbling inside of him so loudly that he figured that if he concentrated on the film he would have had trouble focusing on it anyway. As Harry looked into the side of Zayn Malik’s face, his mind kept asking him one question, over and over.

Why was he doing this?

Why did he invite Zayn over? Why did he keep talking to Zayn? Why could he not keep his emerald eyes away from the boy? Harry knew that he partly did this because he saw how truly vulnerable and innocent the boy was and he wanted to look after him and make sure he was alright for some reason. Harry had treated Zayn like crap at times and had taken advantage of the boy’s weakness, and he knew that that was the reason his conscience caused him to do this, but as Harry looked at the boy next to him, he slowly started to wonder whether it was just his repenting conscience. His conscience wasn’t the reason Harry liked to steal little kisses from the boys cheek, and even lips, and it wasn’t the reason why Zayn’s hands looked so soft and to hold either.

Harry’s palms started to heat up, and he slowly brought his eyes away from the boy and back at the ceiling once more. His heart was slowly thudding away inside of his ribcage, but everytime Zayn would move, or make any sort of sound, it would quicken a little. A while ago, the boy next to him had yawned to himself. It was quiet and cute, almost like a kitten yawning, and after he scrunched his nose a little. The action had caused Harry’s heart to jump around as if it were cooing itself for the boy. Harry sighed a little, wondering if Zayn’s heart skipped and jumped whenever Harry did something. For some reason, Harry started to think about how he would feel if someone else was the person to make Zayn’s heart skip a beat. His mind immediately doubted it, as the boy didn’t exactly talk to anyone but him and his family, but still the thought of not being the one that roamed Zayn’s mind like the brown-eyed boy roamed Harry’s seemed saddening.

Suddenly the boy next to him stirred a little, and Harry looked up to see that the film was now over, and the credits had started rolling up the screen. Harry looked back over to the boy next to him, as he stretched his arms out gingerly in front of him, giving another yawn. Harry smiled and leant his hand over, pushing the boy’s glasses up the bridge of his nose gently from where they had started to fall off again. Zayn squirmed a little, before giggling a little as he watched Harry’s hand push up his glasses.

“I knew Dumbo would fly in the end…” Zayn mumbled happily, before looking at Harry with a tired smile. Harry couldn’t help but beam a smile.

“Yeah?” He asked, before his fingertips started to stroke some of Zayn’s hair from his eyes and forehead. The dark raven locks always felt so soft against Harry’s fingertips, and if he had his way, he’d sit and comb through the boy’s hair for hours.

Zayn eagerly nodded to Harry, which made Harry smile, before his two green eyes watched the boy slowly shuffle towards Harry, closing the tiny gap inbetween them before their sides touched. Harry’s smile seemed stuck onto his face now that the sweet smell of the boy and the warmth radiating from him was closer to him. For some reason, the closer Zayn got to Harry, the more that stupid goofy smile would stick to his face. There was something about the boy, and Harry just couldn’t put a finger on it. But, he kind of liked it.

“Cuddle me, fluffball.” Harry said simply, when the brown haired boy next to him was looking at Harry’s chest longingly. Zayn looked up into Harry’s eyes, almost as if to confirm that it was alright, before his body soon snuggled against Harry’s. The warmth seemed to warm Harry up even further, and as he felt Zayn’s face snuggle against his left peck, he couldn’t help but lean down and place a soft kiss into the ruffled raven hair.

Harry held onto Zayn for a little while, before the boy shuffled his head up, and his big brown eyes collided with Harry’s.

“Harry, is it bad for one boy to like another boy?” Zayn’s words fell quietly from his mouth, and if Harry wasn’t so close to the boy then he would have struggled with catching onto those words. Harry frowned a little in confusion.

“What do you mean, hun?” Harry asked, his fingertips still slowly stroking through Zayn’s hair. Zayn looked up continuously at Harry, those big brown eyes filled with so much misunderstanding that it made Harry want to reach inside the boy’s mind so he could have someone to relate too, but of course, he couldn’t.

“If a boy falls in love with a boy, is it wrong? Like if a boy likes a boy…is it bad?” Zayn tried to explain, even though it looked like he was having a tough time trying to explain what he meant. Harry quickly shook his head.

“No Zayn, love is love. It doesn’t matter who it’s between, if it’s love it doesn’t matter. If a boy wants to love a boy, then he can. The only thing that’s wrong about being gay is being discriminated and judged for it.” Harry spoke insightfully, but it felt like from the minute he had opened his mouth, the first word was like a spanner falling into the works, his conscience sticking and grinding inside of his body like it was sucking all the fronts he put up away, replacing him with pure guilt.

“Is a boy liking boys being gay, Harry?” Zayn asked, his mind like a sponge as it took in every word of Harry’s wisdom. Harry nodded his head.

“Yes, love. Girls that like girls are lesbians, guys who like guys are gay, but if you like both girls and guys then you’re Bisexual, but, you just say that you’re bi.” Harry explained a little further, the guilt still grinding away at him. Here he was, preaching away about how love is equal, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to admit what he truly was inside. Zayn nodded again in understanding, but Harry knew there was something else there. For once, Harry could read into the boy’s mind.

“Some people aren’t like us though, Z. Some people don’t like gay people, but their minds are so small that they can’t understand it. It’s best to ignore those types of people.” Harry quickly spoke up, and Zayn’s eyes looked glazed for a moment, and he slowly nodded. Harry noticed how the boy’s hands seemed to tighten their grip on Harry ever so slightly. There was another silence, as Harry continued to brush his fingertips through the boy’s hair.

It only took a touch for Harry to understand that there was something more to this conversation then he first expected. The tight touch of the raven-haired boy explained just what was happening to Zayn, and suddenly, all the bruises made sense. In a split second, Harry’s body felt like it was taking all the blows that Zayn had ever taken, and that made his grip on the boy tighten. His eyes watered a little, so much so he had to try and control the small puddles in his eyes as they gather increasingly and blurred the sight of his bedroom ceiling. Zayn’s head perked up a little as he saw the gathering tears in Harry’s eyes, but before he could say anything Harry pulled him into a tight hug, clinging to the boy’s body like it was the end of the world outside of the drawn curtains in his room.

“You’re such a perfect boy, Zayn. You can’t listen to what he says.” Harry told the boy firmly as he clung to him like a lifeline. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and just focused on the boy in his arms. Zayn was holding onto him too, even though Harry could tell that the boy wasn’t too sure about what Harry was talking about.

“Okay, Harry.” Zayn spoke simply, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck as he soaked in Harry’s words once more. Harry sniffed a little and placed a little peck onto Zayn’s neck, before he slowly leaned back into his original position, lying on his back, but he kept Zayn close to his side this time. There was another silence, the only sounds filling the room were their breathing. The TV wasn’t playing anymore sound, and soon enough it would probably shut itself off. The only light flooding into the room was the light of the moon, which was flooding through the material of the curtains and giving the room a white glow, which highlighted all of the perfections and imperfections on both of the boy’s faces. Not that either of the boy’s could see the imperfections. Their eyes could only see the boy next to him in a perfect light.

“I’m a really bad person.” Harry’s rough voice broke the silence, as he looked away from Zayn and towards the ceiling. He didn’t know if he had meant to say it or not, especially not to Zayn, but the words had slipped out nevertheless and there was nothing that Harry could do to take them back now. But what was the point in taking back the truth?

Zayn quickly shook his head in protest.

“No, Harry, no!” Zayn spoke, his voice the loudest that Harry had ever heard it. The boy almost shouted his words out. Harry looked up at him with sad eyes, weakly nodding. How was Harry not a bad person, after everything that he had done to the poor kid in his arms, and now Zayn couldn’t even agree to Harry’s statement. Harry had wound the boy round his finger so much that the kid didn’t even realise it.

“No Zayn, I’m a bad person. I am.” Harry tried, as his fingertips trailed up Zayn’s forearms as a way of calming the boy down. Why did Zayn seem so worked up about this statement. He’d broken off the hug and was now sat upright, looking down at Harry with pleading eyes. His brow furrowed as he shook his head furiously.

“You are not a bad person Harry, you aren’t!” Zayn practically yelled again, as his hands flew to Harry’s hand, where he clutched it tightly, intertwining his fingers with Harry’s, his legs manoeuvring themselves so that he was now sat cross-legged again.

“You cannot say that you’re a bad person, Harry, because you are the best person that I’ve ever met! You listen, and you talk, but you always listen. No one else listens, but you do…you care, Harry. You’re not a bad person, no, not a bad person.” Zayn spoke quickly, his hands clutching at Harry’s fingers and squeezing them desperately, as his words flew from his mouth quicker than a car skidding out of control. Harry sat up slowly, in concern more than anything else. This was the most he heard ever heard Zayn say, and the loudest, and even though the guilt gears inside of him were going so fast it felt like he had stomach cramps.

“Zayn, what’s wrong, why do you seem so upset over this?” Harry asked quickly, looking over the brown eyes boy whose chest was rising quicker than before. Zayn sniffed a little.

“You’re my best friend, Harry.” Zayn spoke up, and he looked over the boy before he leaned over and placed a soft kiss onto Harry’s chest, the kiss aimed for what was under the layers of clothing, skin, muscle and bone, his heart.

Harry watched Zayn with curious green eyes, as his guilt tried to compress what exactly the brown-eyed boy was saying to him.

“My heart hurts when you talk like that…and I thought your heart might hurt too.” Zayn spoke, sniffing a little. Harry smiled a little and stroked the boy’s cheek.

“Thanks, fluffball, that did make my heart feel a little better.” Harry spoke with a small smile, as he rubbed his thumbs over Zayn’s knuckles. Zayn smiled a little and nodded. Harry let out another sigh and looked down. It didn’t matter how many little protests Zayn could give, or pecks to his racing heart, he knew deep down inside that he was a bad person.

“But I’m still a bad per,” Harry’s sentence was cut off when Zayn suddenly lunged forward and crashed his lips onto Harry’s. Harry’s green eyes went wide at first, but then he realised that Zayn’s soft lips were on his, waiting for him to kiss back. He’d never seen the boy so confident, and he had even found it hard to imagine that he would ever do something so suddenly. Harry left his mind and fluttered his eyes closed, and kissed the boy. It was soft, and there wasn’t much development due to Zayn’s lack of kissing knowledge, but Harry didn’t care, because that kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It was a million words that Zayn was dying to say and couldn’t, and that was reciprocated by the curly haired boy.

Harry nuzzled Zayn’s nose as he brought his lips away from the boy’s, and Zayn looked up with big brown eyes and a little smile. Harry smiled and raised his thumb to the boy’s cheekbone and brushed it softly, as the boy’s stared at each other with a smile. Harry pressed another quick peck to the boy’s lips, before he broke contact.

“Come on, fluffball, I want a proper cuddle.” Harry told him, before he picked up the TV remote and switched off the TV, leaving Zayn to shuffle into Harry’s double bed. Harry threw the remote across the room before he playfully jumped next to Zayn, half landing on the boy, which caused him to squeak a little. Harry pulled the covers over them and pulled the boy into his body, which Zayn went gladly. Zayn’s face was in the crook of Harry’s neck, his breaths coming from his nose and fluttering onto Harry’s neck.

“Harry, is it okay that I’m gay?” Zayn asked quietly, his fingers clinging to Harry’s skinny waist the minutes the words left his mouth. Harry smiled and kissed the top of his head.

“Is it okay that I think I’m gay, fluffball?” Harry replied, before he heard Zayn mew a little, pulling him closer, and both lads fell asleep like that, and didn’t move away from each other until later the following afternoon.

A/N: And that, lads, ladies and hybrids, was the sleepover. Hope you enjoyed it, fluffballs!<3