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*
Zayn feels it first. He always does. It started when he was thirteen, he’d wake up to dreams of an older boy with unruly curls, a wicked smirk and brilliant green eyes. Its what he noticed most when the dreams started –his eyes, the eyes of the boy he couldn’t quite grasp, always a little out of reach. Zayn thinks it isn’t so much a mystery his favorite color is green or that is has been for as long as he can remember, he realizes now its just another unconscious choice his mind made for him -an indicator more, something to haunt him.
In his dreams the boy fluctuates in age, the first time he appears to Zayn he’s around seventeen and he’s absolutely electric, all hair -fluffy and curly with a smile so wide it actually blinds Zayn awake some nights. In Zayn’s dreams the boy simultaneously gets older and younger dream to dream. Zayn watches him grow up and he watches him dwindle into himself and he doesn’t know what it means that he can have these pieces of a person he’s never known but somewhere within the first year he grows accustomed to it, learns to looks forward to the boy and his hair and his lips and his eyes. Zayn finds himself piecing the boy together, guesstimating the boys age and categorizing him that way, picking pieces of the boy’s face that make him seem older or younger and soon enough he’s got the boys face memorized to a science.
As Zayn gets older himself he learns this boy as intimately as he knows himself, sometimes he thinks more so because although there isn’t substantial context to the dreams he has night after night of this boy he learns to read him through his expressions and his demeanor. The dip of his brow or the pull of his hand on his bottom lip and the stretch of his cheeks -the prominence of his dimples, it’s all telling and Zayn learns to hold a place within his mind, if not in his heart for the boy as he finds himself growing alongside him year after year. Zayn keeps it all to himself, convinced it doesn’t mean anything or at least that it doesn’t have to because at the end of the day they’re just dreams. Sometimes he finds himself questioning his sanity, realizing it is a bit mad to dream different versions of a single boy over and over and though he tries to find some relevance to himself in the dreams he mostly comes to blank conclusions and ignores the entire thing, diminishing it to something that just happens.
*
Zayn is nineteen the first night he doesn’t dream of the boy in almost seven years. He doesn’t realize it at soon as he comes to but instead when he’s standing in front of his sink and mirror, toothbrush in hand as he cleans his teeth, eyes still closed that it hits him like a ton of bricks -he doesn’t remember a single detail of last nights dream -not the boys face or any other dream he may have had and suddenly he’s flipping his eyes open as he races through his memory only to come up blank. His initial reaction is to freak out, how can something that has been so consistent completely cease to occur? But he gets a hold of himself, breathing in and out, in and out and tries not to think too much into it because it shouldn’t mean anything right? It was strange for him to have dreams of that nature in the first place so what does it matter? He shrugs his shoulders and tries not to think of the hollowness at the pit of his stomach as he spits toothpaste residue into the sink but there’s a knock at the door that unsettles him more as he yells out
“Yea?”
“You almost done in there bro? I gotta take a massive shit”
“Louis, you disgusting prick too much information. I’ll be out in a sec”
“Duty calls Z, duty calls! See what I did there?! Aha!” Louis shouts out with a laugh.
“Honestly Lou, just shut the fuck up”
“Oi! Well all right then, hurry it up! Hey, are you coming out tonight?”
“Told you I would didn’t I?”
“Hey! I was only making sure you hadn’t changed your mind you moody fuck!” Louis remarks before knocking on the bathroom door a little more gently “… you done in there? I really gotta take a shit…”
*
Zayn meets Harry the same day he stops dreaming of him. It’s the most bizarre thing that Zayn’s ever experienced, sitting at a bar with his best friend as the boy he’s dreamed of consistently since he was thirteen years old stares down at him from a stage, blinding and brilliant and younger than the oldest image Zayn can remember having of him -eighteen or nineteen if he had to guess. And he’s staring at Zayn so intently he wonders if he’s dreamed of him too.
“Mate, he totally wants to fuck” Louis shouts at Zayn, breaking his stupor.
“Shut up, Louis” he laughs back at him.
“Bro, I’m so serious he won’t take his eyes off of you and don’t pretend like you weren’t staring back equally as hard” Louis yells back, slapping at Zayn's chest with the back of his hand. Zayn rolls his eyes and looks back at the boy. He’s tall, a lot taller than Zayn would have imagined and if his estimate on his age is correct than he’s younger than Zayn too, by a year or so and that’s another thing he didn’t expect. Not because there was substantial context to come to that conclusion but just from the indication that when he first appeared in Zayn’s dreams he had been older than Zayn was at the time. It hits Zayn then how incredibly insane it is that he can have a recollection of facial recognition to a time that hasn’t existed yet.
“I’m going to go out for a smoke” He nods at Louis before he makes his way through the crowd out into the biting cold.
Pulling out his smoke and lighting it he inhales it with a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves. There’s a level of intensity charging the air and he doesn’t know what to do with it. His head is spinning and he’s sure that somewhere someone is laughing at him. By the time the filter burns to his fingertips he’s decided to push any dream world related thoughts to the back of his mind and play tonight like any other. He has no explanation for why things are happening the way they are so he’ll do what he’s always done and let it dwell without reason in the back of his mind.
When he makes it back inside the band has just finished their set, taking a final bow before making their way off the stage. He only glances in the direction of the boy, afraid of fixating on him before properly making it back to Louis at the end of the bar.
When he does approach Louis he yells out at Zayn “He was looking for you!” he taunts in a sing song voice.
“I need a drink” is Zayn’s only response.
A part of Zayn hope’s Louis is talking out of his ass and he’ll have a nice quiet night out with his best mate and that’ll be that. Of course, that isn’t how it goes down at all. Halfway through his second drink he feels someone approach him right before he hears a
“Hi”
Zayn looks over at the boy and he really can’t believe how surreal his life has gotten in the past 24-hours. He stares for a beat too long, the boy giving him a megawatt grin. It’s only when it falters a bit at the ends and his brow starts to furrow that Zayn responds, because he knows that face -and it isn’t the boys happiest.
“Hello” is all Zayn gives him.
“I’m Harry” He extends his hand out to Zayn, grinning again.
“I’m Louis!” Louis extends his own hand out, interrupting the scene. Louis gives Zayn a look over his shoulders before grinning back at the boy –Harry, and shaking his hand. Harry’s smile transforming once again.
“Nice to meet you, Louis.” He replies and Zayn takes it upon himself to make his introduction then.
“M’ Zayn” he answers, reaching around Louis before fitting his hand into Harry’s and it’s like slotting a puzzle piece into place. Harry’s hand is larger than his, encompassing it in an embrace that’s both tender and warm and Zayn swears his heart shutters at the touch. He drops it like he’s been burnt and looks back at Louis, where it’s safe. He doesn’t want to look at the boy he’s known for years yet only just found out existed.
“Let’s go for a smoke yea?” It’s Louis who speaks first then, because he’s known Zayn for as long as he can remember and he feels the tension radiating off of Zayn better than he does.
“Yea, alright. Pardon us, Harry.” Zayn adds in and then they’re back out the door. He tries, and fails not to look back at the boy and catches a slight falter in his expression, smile gone, brow furrowed with his expression cast at a downward glance but he keeps walking until he makes it straight out the door.
Louis doesn’t immediately reach for a smoke, but Zayn does, fingers shaking, avoiding Louis’ stare because he can feel him staring a hole into his head and it’s only a matter of time before he makes some remark at him.
“What was that all about Z? You alright? You’ve been acting funny all day. I figured it was finals but you took your last one earlier yeah? We’re officially on break and a fit boy is asking for your name, what gives? And don’t tell me you’re alright because I know you Z, and you aren’t or else I wouldn’t have made my self look like a jealous twat in front of your boyfriend out there”
Zayn exhales the smoke he has lingering in his lungs. “Not my boyfriend and I just -I don’t, I don’t know alright… this is gonna sound a bit mad but have you ever, like, got the feeling you’ve known someone before you’ve met them?”
Louis screws his face up “What, you mean like, déjà vu?”
“Essentially, yea, sort of, like having pictures of a person you’ve never really met.”
“What’re you smoking Z?”
Zayn laughs and passes it over before replying with a shake of his head “Never mind Lou, just I’m alright yea? Don’t worry about me, I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Where’s this even coming from?”
“No where, just drop it yea? I promise I’ll stop acting like a freak” Zayn answers with a continuous shake of his head.
Louis brows are furrowed together as he replies back “Well.. alright then, but if something’s really bothering you let me know ya? I love you man”
“Love you too Louis, you sappy shit.” they drop it there, slapping at the back of their heads, Zayn’s hand clasped around his neck before he pulls him into a hug.
*
When they make it back inside Harry is waiting for them in the same corner they left him in looking earnest and a lot cuter than Zayn is willing to admit. As they approach him he stands and Louis makes a point not to side step into Zayn’s direct line and nods his head to the opposite end of the bar as an indicator to where he’ll be if Zayn needs him, Zayn nods back at him and turns to Harry who immediately begins to speak at him.
“Hi, again. I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you I didn’t mean to I just -I saw you in the crowd and I thought, well I don’t really know what I though but your boyfriend seems nice and I didn’t mean to bother you guys I’ll leave you alone now I just didn’t want to not say anything and have you think I was just trying to be obnoxious or anything so like yea, I get it and I’m totally backing off-“
“Louis?” Zayn cuts him short, shaking his head “No, Louis’ not my boyfriend he’s just a mate -my best mate, but not my boyfriend no and he’s harmless for the most part too, sorry for his snarky come off, he can just be a bit over protective of me at times-”
It's Harry who cuts him off then “-I won’t hurt you” Harry’s reply is instant and Zayn looks up to see the boy blush almost as if he can’t believe he’s spoken the words out loud and it’s so endearing Zayn feels his lips split into a smile, releasing all the tension he’d been carrying around with him since he woke up that morning.
“Sorry” is Harry’s response and Zayn continues to smile at him, shaking his head before saying “S’alright.”
Harry continues on then “So… if Louis isn’t your boyfriend does that mean I can buy you a drink then?” He looks down at Zayn and smiles cheekily, twisting his fingers behind his back like a little kid asking for a treat, and Zayn knows he’s done for.
“Yea, yea you can”
*
Zayn learns his estimate was correct and Harry is eighteen. He’s at uni for music and his band plays at as many venues as they can get into around town. Harry sings lead, Niall –who’s Irish, sings too and he’s wicked on the guitar, and there’s also Liam, who’s on drums and they’re his best friends. But, Zayn is quick to find Harry’s got a lot of friends.
“Sorry about all that, kinda comes with the territory –band and all that” Harry smiles sheepishly at him and Zayn doesn’t mind it at all. It’s almost better for his nerves that they can barely get a word in before someone is slapping Harry on the back asking how he’s been or complimenting him on his set, because his heads fogging up a bit with how much he’s had to drink and his mind is doing something funny, trying to piece together every dream he’s ever had of Harry.
“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Actually think I’m gonna go find Louis if that’s all right.”
Zayn watches Harry swallow and shake his head before he answers “Yea, sure, no problem. I really am sorry about the interruptions.” And Zayn feels something in his gut at that because he really doesn’t want to leave the boy. But he’s so confused. And he doesn’t think he should put himself in a situation where he could potentially get burned -because he’s only just met Harry and he already feels like he’s drowning. Like he’s trying to hold on to something that isn’t there, because so much of his mind is already full of Harry and none of it makes any sense. So going against ever fiber in his being he allows himself to let go before he’s sure he even has a grip and replies to Harry.
“It’s really not a problem, it was nice meeting you, Harry” and he gives him a last smile before he turns and disappears into the crowd.
*
He finds Louis quicker than he thought he would, huddled into a corner with a girl he must’ve just met. He catches his eye and makes a motion toward the door with his head, holding his hand up to stop him from leaving the girl and points a finger to his phone as an indication that he’s heading out, and he’ll text him if he needs him before he gives him a final smile and turns toward the door, pulling up his messages as he ducks through the crowds and out into the night.
heading home -don’t worry, i’m good. just tired, been a long day. have fun!! xx
He makes it halfway down the street before he hears someone call out his name and he sighs as he turns opening his mouth to yell
“Louis, I just sent you a text. I told you I was good!” but there’s a consistent heavy patter on the pavement and when he makes a full 180 he sees that it isn’t Louis at all -but Harry who stops just short of him, bent at the waist, hands at his knees and he’s breathing so hard Zayn steps closer and reaches out to touch his shoulder.
“Are you alright, mate?” Zayn questions down at him.
He’s wheezing a bit but he makes out “Yea, yea M’fine have a bit of asthma s’all. Listen, give a sec yea?” he says pointing a finger up in Zayn’s direction, stretching his neck up to look at him.
Zayn nods and questions him again “Are you sure you’re good? You don’t need an inhaler?”
Harry shakes his head, catching his breaths better now.
“No, m’good, sorry.”
“You know Harry, I’ve only just met you and you apologize more than anyone I’ve ever met ” he smiling down at him now and it breaks something in the air because suddenly Harry is standing upright at full height -looking him dead in the eye and he takes a deep breath before he starts.
“This is probably going to sound a little bit crazy but just here me out yea? I really am sorry about interruptions earlier -I’d lie and say it doesn’t happen a lot but it does and I really don’t want to lie to you and I know I’ve only just met you and you probably think I’m completely insane considering we’ve barely gotten to speak but I- I can’t even explain what happens to me when I look at you and when you walked away from me just now I swear I felt the earth shift beneath my feet and for a second I thought it might swallow me whole because all I had was half of your name and I know, I know, I know this is crazy and stupid because if anything I should have played this cool and asked for your number or something, anything that wasn’t run after you and confess all these weird things I’m feeling but I have an inkling that I’m not who gets to decide that and I’m sounding insane again but I couldn’t just let you walk away without at least trying, ya know?” He’s looking down at his shoes now, his voice slowing, inflecting emotions Zayn doesn’t know how he understands but he does, and he doesn’t know what any of this means but he finally allows himself to figure it has to mean something, and takes a leap.
He waits for Harry to look back up at him before he steps closer and then he asks him, as calm as ever, the simplest question he can conger to get closer to the root of whatever this is going to be “You want me?” and when Harry nods his head at him he only has one more question for him.
“Can I kiss you?”
When Harry gives him a whispered, croaky “Yes” it’s all he needs before he gives himself over to every emotion he’s had pent up for the last 24 hours.
Lifting his hand up he takes a step closer to Harry, closing any open space left between them, holding Harry’s chin in his hand he looks down at the pink of his lips before looking back up at the green of his eyes -the same eyes that have haunted his dreams for years, the same eyes he’s sure will continue to haunt him for years to come. Closing his own eyes and parting his lips he inches forward until he’s so close he can feel Harry’s breath tangle with his own -right before their lips finally catch.
Zayn kisses him slowly, allowing himself to feel the simple pressure of Harry’s lips on his. Enjoying the feel and telling his mind to remember this moment because he can feel it end just as quickly as it began and suddenly he feels as if he can’t breathe and all there is is Harry -it’s all Harry, everything he could ever want or need is just Harry. And he feels his hands slide up into his hair, abandoning the spot they had just caressed on the side of his jaw and he’s tugging at his locks -pulling back at his head enough to get him to open his mouth more and just as he does Harry let’s out a groan that resonates deep in Zayn’s core and he knows with a certainty he hadn’t placed before that instant that there truly is no coming back from this.
They kiss and kiss and kiss until Zayn is sure one of them is on the verge of passing out before they finally pull away with a gasp and suddenly Harry is pulling on his hand, grinning back at him.
“My flat’s up about a block away” -it’s the only explanation Harry gives and the only explanation Zayn needs before he’s following close behind him, grasping his hand in a vice like grip, afraid that if he let’s go he’ll float away and never see this through.
When they make it to Harry’s place it’s with a shaky breath that he finds his key and slots it into the lock, twisting it open. Once he and Zayn make it through the door and the lock is back in place Zayn looks back up at him and speaks.
“Are we doing this then?” And Zayn’s only half afraid of the answer he’ll get because he can’t deny what he feels radiating around them both, encompassing them further down into the rabbit hole.
Harry stares back at him, a clear message reading through his eyes before he responds, “I’ve never wanted something more in my life” and he reaches his hand out to Zayn who doesn’t even think before his hand reaches out to meet Harry’s.
They make their way to Harry’s bedroom, nestled in the back of the hall. It’s cozy, and appears smaller than it probably would be without the queen-sized bed positioned in the center of the room. Harry leads him there, sits him on the edge of the bed and sinks down to his knees pulling at the back of Zayn’s neck to meet their lips into a kiss. Zayn’s hands move to unbutton Harry’s shirt and he feels Harry tug on the button of his jeans soon after he’s got the buttons on Harry's shirt undone and slipped down his shoulders. Zayn pulls back enough to pull his own shirt off soon after and pulls Harry up onto the bed with him, pulling off his jeans until they’re both only in briefs.
Zayn reaches forward and tucks his hand into Harry’s briefs taking him into his hand, tugging on his length in slow strokes. Harry’s breath stuttering into his mouth as he moves to mimic Zayn’s actions, pulling down the elastic at Zayn’s hips before gripping him from base to tip. They’re both breathless and peaking toward a release when Harry turns his body toward his side drawer to pull out lube and a condom.
Zayn takes it as an opportunity to flip Harry onto his back, grabbing the supplies from his hand as he begins to kiss his way down Harry’s body. Once he gets to Harry’s waistband he pulls Harry’s briefs completely off before uncapping the bottle of lube and slicking his fingers up.
“You good?” he asks up at Harry.
“Never been better” is his reply and Zayn takes Harry’s cue, placing a finger at his hole, kissing and licking at the sensitive skin surrounding it before slowly inserts a finger into Harry.
Harry shudders and curses at the feel, encouraging Zayn further until he’s three fingers in.
“M’good Zayn” Harry speaks out, tapping at his head and his hand -anywhere he can reach him prompt his further and Zayn proceeds, reaching for the condom and placing it on before slicking himself up further.
He pulls his body up toward Harry meeting their lips in a kiss before lining himself up at Harry’s hole and pushing into him. Harry gasps into his mouth and raises his legs up and around his waist, pulling his arms under Zayn’s shoulders holding Zayn as close as possible and still for a moment before encouraging Zayn to pull in further with a rock of his hips.
They move together then, until they feel a deep satisfying pressure building in the pits of their stomach, finding their release with the muttering of their names, groans, and shaky breaths.
Zayn slips out of Harry then, tying the condom at the top while Harry reaches out for a flannel to clean himself up and it’s easy, so easy there isn’t a need for words because somehow they just know eachother.
They slot next to each other, as casual as anything. Like they’ve been doing this for years. As if Zayn’s always known Harry prefers to be the little spoon -making sure to leave room for him, holding onto him tightly as they lay next to each other falling further…
It’s when Zayn’s half way to unconsciousness, the weight of Harry lying next to him, and the even breaths he takes still so prominent in Zayn’s being that he feels it happening -a reeling through his mind, like he’s flipping through the pages of a book he’s never read or watching a film, scene after scene play out in the back of his mind.
He sees himself, -and he sees Harry and they’re running through the streets during a hot day no older than seven years old before the scene shifts and Zayn is twelve again, meeting Harry on the first day back at school after summer break before it cuts out and then they’re both there, walking through a field of flowers and Harry’s smiling at him -the same smile that blinds and brands itself into the back of Zayn brain until he’s nothing more than a puddle. And suddenly Zayn feels his heart break, feels an absence so endless it springs tears to his eyes, and he can’t see Harry at all anymore, can only feel the sorrow resonate deep in his chest before it all ceases and shifts again to a barren place where there’s only Harry -but not Harry in a physical form, only Harry’s voice speaking out at Zayn and he’s so raw in the inflection of his words that they cut Zayn deeper than his absence had.
“I choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. Please, don’t stop looking for me, Zayn. I’m here."
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When Zayn opens his eyes he’s seventeen. And it’s to the most vivid dream he's ever had of the boy with green eyes.