"He's fine. You're fine. Lighten up Harry."

"I shouldn't be here. He just got out of the hospital."

"Come on," Louis groans. "You never hang with us anymore. Just a few drinks."

"I should be with him to make sure-"

He rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. "That was a week ago. Besides, he's a grown man. It's a Saturday night. Live a little."

"A, he's probably tired of you worrying. You're making things worse," Niall posits.

That isn't enough so I turn to Liam who nods in agreement and says "I think you can live one day without stressing about him. He isn't going to overdose and he isn't going anywhere. He made a promise."

I inhale sharply, the strum of the beat making my feet electric, my pulse quickening.

"You haven't been out in ages."

So I start with one drink and my body buzzes. Adrenaline courses through my veins as my hips sway to the beat. I tell a shitty joke and Drew throws back his head in laughter.

my tongue

slipping

and sputtering

forming

incoherent

thoughts,

my body

clumsy,

empty

shot glasses

and an

empty mind,

my hands

reaching

for something

unattainable

One drink turns into a couple and then I lose count.

"H-hey," I slur to Liam.

He's still stone cold sober, trying to put up with Lou's antics as he grinds up against him, complaining about his growing erection. Liam's cheeks redden and his tongue flicks over his bottom lip before he leans down to whisper something in his boyfriend's ear. Louis smiles, satisfied and slumps into his arms.

"Harry, I don't think you should have another."

"I wanna see him," I manage to get off the bar stool and stumble a bit, gripping onto the countertop.

"He wouldn't want to see you in this state. I'll drive you home."

"No, my mum," I whine. "She'll know."

"We can all go back to my place."

"Noooo, please Liam. I want to see him." I tug on his shirtsleeve like a child and he sighs.

"Fine. I'll drop you off there but don't blame me if he lashes out."

"Why," I pout. "I'm cute. He'll be happy to see me."

"Right," he replies flatly.

But Liam is true to his word as he leads me to Zayn's place.

"This is where Mr. M lives? It's so...industrial, I was expecting something more quaint."

I shrug him off as he knocks on the door. Zayn opens it up surprised, his hair disheveled. He's barefoot, wearing distressed gray jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt. Liam scratches the back of his neck nervously, trying to muster up some excuse.

"Sorry. I told him not to bother you like this but he's...I dunno."

"Persistent," Zayn finishes, amused smirk on his face.

"Exactly," he chuckles and Zayn grabs my hand, pulling me through the doorway.

"Thank you for looking out for him Liam," he calls.

Be awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. "It was nothing, I uh...guess I'll see you on Monday."

"That was awkward," I giggle, my fingers getting lost in his quiff.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"What are you going to do to me," I breathe hotly into his ear.

"Sit," he motions for me to sit on the couch so I plop down, my body melting into the cushions.

I'm suddenly exhausted, my head heavy.

"Here babe," he sets a glass of water and two pills on the coffee table.

"I don't wanna."

"Harry," he coaxes. "Your head won't stop hurting until you take the medicine."

"It's scary."

He sighs, pulling me into his arms.

"You don't have to be scared. Everything is okay. I'm better now. Just take the medicine so you'll feel better."

His thumbs rub circles into my back and my head droops to his shoulder. He runs his fingers through my curls and I whimper at the touch.

My head is pounding and my chest feels heavy, like someone dumped a load of bricks inside of me.

"Are you sleepy babe?"

I struggle to nod and he chuckles. "You're such a mess. I should be mad at you right now."

"How could you ever be mad at me," I smile sheepishly.

"Well, I might get upset if you refuse to take your medicine."

"I can't shallow anything."

"Then how did you down all of your drinks?"

I scowl at him but he doesn't give in and says just the right thing to persuade me.

"Take your medicine and I'll kiss you."

It's so tempting I quickly shallow the pills and flush them down with water.

"Good boy," he praises.

But then he gets up off the couch, a smirk on his face.

"No fair," I pout and fumble for the hem of his shirt "Zaynie, come back."

He stops dead in his track, his eyes flickering with amusement.

"Zaynie?"

I giggle and it's enough to draw him back.

"I'm really horny," my hand palms at my jeans and he chuckles, moving it away.

"I can see that."

"Will you help me?"

"Nope."

I stick my tongue out at him and just as it finds its way back in my mouth, his slides in too, his lips pressed against mine. I moan, feeling myself harden from the contact.

"You taste like pineapples and amaretto but you smell horrible."

"You're a meanie."

"Harry, you need a shower."

"No," I snap.

He grabs my sides, tickling me and scoops me into his arms.

"Gotcha," he smiles and carries me to the bathroom.

I feel woozy when he sets me down so I latch onto the sink. His arms wrap around me and his breath fans across my neck.

"It's okay."

make me

steady

keep me

safe

and

n

e

v

e

r

let me go

never

let me go

"Oh," is all I can say when his arms move away.

unsteady

u

n

s

t

e

a

d

y

"Hey, I'm not leaving you babe. I'm just going to draw some bath water."

I smile lazily as he peels off my tight jeans and slips my shirt up over my head. My boxers come off and I grin stupidly at him.

"What Harry?"

"Are you going to get naked too?"

He releases an agitated sigh before unzipping his jeans and taking off his shirt.

He's very particular and folds all the clothes, putting them in a neat pile by the tub.

My eyes linger on his body as I hesitantly lower myself into the bathtub. The water is scorching for a moment before my body adjusts and relaxes, the tenseness escaping. My fingers make ripples in the water. It sloshes as Zayn gets in across from me. He stretches out, his legs bracketing my hips.

He sinks lower into the water, letting out a content sigh and I hum as he drops in a tablet. It fizzes, turning the water a milky white and the scent of warm vanilla sugar fills the air.

I let my body drift deeper, my chin touching the warm water. His fingers are twitching, his body jittery, itching for something. Probably nicotine.

My curls turn dark, floating around my shoulders so his fingers busy themselves, brushing the hair away from my neck.

"You're gonna get tangled in your hair babe," he chuckles.

He straightens his posture, and gestures for me to sit up. The water swishes as my back presses to his chest, my head falling onto his shoulder. I smile goofily, my eyelashes grazing his cheek.

"That tickles babe."

That only makes my smile grow wider but my eyes close so he doesn't have to worry about the flutter of my lashes.

"Keep your eyes closed so I don't get soap in them."

My mind is still hazy, only half aware of what is taking place. All I know is my body feels good and my heart is warm, beating softly in my chest.

The splitting headache has resided a bit so I lean forward slightly, letting him lather the shampoo in my hair. It's cold and makes me shiver as it slicks through my hair.

His fingers continue to massage my scalp and I hum a note, leaning into his touch. He tugs at a knot and I suck in a breath. I'm fully hard now, admiring the way his fingers are so tender, his touch so gentle.

Steady. Steady. Steady.

"Lean forward babe," his lips brush across my wet neck.

His words are soft, mixed with the lapping sound of water. It's enough to make me obey, my soapy curls framing my face.

He fills a cup with water and carefully pours it into my hair, before rinsing it out.

My body keeps leaning into his for stability.

Steady.

I turn around, blinking incredibly slow, the drunkenness far from wearing off. My arms loop around his neck as my fingers get lost in his hair. He places his hands on my hips, which are submerged under water.

My body sways a bit closer, my cock pressing against his stomach. I'm so sensitive I whimper and his hand wraps around me.

"I'll take care of it babe," he murmurs.

My breath hitches as he gives a small tug. His hand disturbs the water, setting off a little ripple effect.

Splish splash.

"You okay?"

I nod, my forehead pressing against his tan skin, my breath growing shallow as he pulls at my foreskin then back over the head. His fingers tease my exposed slit and a tiny noise gets caught in the back of my throat.

"Hey," he coaxes. "Let it out."

He could fondle my nipples or squeeze a bit tighter but he sneaks his other hand down, rubbing against my rim.

My body reacts, my hips rocking upward to meet his fist.

"Zayn, I can't," I start breathlessly.

"You can babe," he assures.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I squeeze my eyes shut, my fingers embedding marks in his skin. My hips snap as his hand keeps diligently tugging and pumping and then it happens

unsteady

jagged

breaths

and

quivering

thighs,

the water

colliding

and spilling

over

the side

of the tub

Unsteady, unsteady, unsteady.

My orgasm rips through the still water, my juices milky to match the bath bomb. His thumb flicks across me one more time, pearls spurting into the water

Then everything stills as I struggle to catch my breath.

"Squeeze babe," he orders, moving me into his lap.

My knees wrap around his hips, my thighs pressing together. He thrusts upward, a small moan slipping past his lips. My thighs are slick and wet but I'm tight as fuck.

It must create quite a bit of friction because he chants "so good babe, so good," like a mantra.

So we make music in the bathtub. Water rippling and praises falling.

I flex and squeeze around him and several seconds later he comes, his face flushed and mouth parted.

For a brief moment I'm completely sober, thoughts of forever filling my mind.

Steady, steady, steady.

My head lolls onto his shoulder and he pulls the plug, allowing the water to drain.

"I bet you're sleepy, yeah?"

I'm spent and don't even have the energy to nod. He pulls me up out of the water and dries me off with a fluffy towel.

"So beautiful," he kisses my forehead, the towel working to dry my damp curls.

Even with all the alcohol in my system, I've never felt so steady.