"Ready for Lads' Night?" Harry asks as they stride into their hotel lift. She brushes the shorter edges of her fringe out of her face; she hasn't left her hair down in a while, but she's totally dudeing it up tonight, so it feels right to have leave the strands swinging in the meantime.
Zayn nods and holds up the bag they nicked from the video set. Harry beams.
They let themselves into Harry's suite without saying much. It's oddly quiet in general since the others left Miami without them. Harry figured Louis at least would be up for Lads' Night, but she said something about ringing Eleanor while giving Harry a very pointed look. And okay. Of course the night's going to end with Harry and Zayn shagging. But they all hang out loads without Harry and Zayn getting any more inappropriate than the rest. Louis's felt up everyone's breasts so much she learnt their cup sizes without actually being told what they were.
"What do you reckon?" Zayn asks as she tosses the bag on the couch and turns on the telly. "Football match?"
"If there's one to watch. I've beer in the fridge."
Zayn smirks and stretches. The edge of her vest shirt rides up, and Harry licks her lips when she sees the patch of skin underneath. "Because beer and football are so different from our usual nights."
"Not our fault we ended up in a band with Louis and Liam, is it?" Not that Harry's opposed to football. She quite likes it, actually. She will just always be the mate who's around to make her more coordinated mates look better.
Harry rummages through the bag as Zayn goes to get the beer, humming Best Song Ever as she goes. It's always hard to get the song out of her head the day of a video shoot. At least there was more acting in this one; Louis and Niall made scary good executive types, and Liam, of course, pulled off the exercise guru in the tiny swimsuit well. Harry was lucky she got to play a nerd in a pencil skirt. Fun without being too tricky.
But Zayn. Zayn had played this sexy secretary type, and Ben somehow got it into his head that she had to be a man while she did it, and. Well, she wasn't like the men Louis and Niall had been playing, put it that way. She was a toy boy with glasses, and it was the greatest thing in the world.
Harry leaves almost all of Zayn's things alone in the bag - she wants Zayn to have that look. They both agreed that Harry gets the binder since her breasts are larger, but the rest of her things are items she had the crew pick up while they were at the shops for other things. Lads' Night took weeks of planning.
Harry gets dressed in the bathroom. Not because she has problems with Zayn seeing her naked, but because it ruins some of the mystery if she does it in the room. It turns out to be even more true when she tries to get the binder on and accidentally knocks all the toiletries off the counter while she's trying to get it down her arms and over her head. Zayn yells through the door, asking if she's all right, and Harry says yes just before she has to catch herself slipping on the pants she left on the slippery floor. Too bad Harry can't do this stuff on purpose. That would make for a good video.
She steps out of the bathroom in her look when she finally finishes, walking a bit exaggerated to keep her hips from swaying as much. She doesn't look dramatically different from normal: she put her shoulder-length hair up and under to make it seem shorter, and her shirt's more buttoned than usual to hide the binder, but she's wearing her usual skinny jeans and boots, and the rolled sleeves show off her tattoos.
Zayn's half-dressed when Harry comes out, and her face contorts as she looks at Harry's crotch. "Did you put a banana in there?"
"I did!" Harry cups her banana proudly. Zayn had an actual packer for the video, and Harry could have ordered similar, but this seems right. "You want my banana?"
"Every day, babe." Zayn sucks her lips in like she's trying not to laugh.
Harry sneers at her a little and stretches out on the couch, legs spread to accommodate her banana. "How 'bout them Packers, eh?" she asks, even though it's the wrong football.
It's Zayn's turn to grab her crotch. She's already wearing the jeans from the video - which are fitted around the waist, but bag around her legs more than Zayn's usual - and the bulge in the crotch is appropriate for her size. Harry swallows hard.
Harry watches as Zayn switches from her usual underwired to a sports bra. Watches her tits, too - Harry knows from experience they're a nice handful and not always visible in the shirts Zayn wears - and Zayn smirks as she follows Harry's gaze to her chest. "Thought the point was to be lads."
"Breasts are always the point," Harry says. "Besides, some lads have breasts."
Zayn nods in agreement as she slips the new bra over her head. She makes it look like she's in some fashion advert, of course. No flailing limbs or bruising.
When she gets the vest top back on, she looks properly laddy. It isn't quite her style - it would probably be a closer crossover for Liam - but there's something very appealing with her short hair and the clothes hiding most of her curves. She had a special furry-eyebrow piece and fake stubble in the video, but the lack of them here make her look like a young man, fair enough to almost be a woman with hints of what's to come.
Zayn settles on the couch easily. It's graceful without being pretty, and it's the same when she grabs the neck of her beer bottle before her.
Fucking hell, she's good.
They're neither of them that deeply into sport, but once Harry turns away from the muscles in Zayn's arms, they do pretty well, yelling when whatever team they've picked scores and when they get fouls and such. They wrestle a couple times over crisps just to do it, and Harry has several inches on Zayn, but Zayn always ends up pinning Harry no matter what she tries.
"Just admit it," Zayn says the second time, looking through her mascara-free lashes at Harry. "I'm better."
Harry nods. "Better at this, definitely. Louis been giving you lessons?"
Zayn lets her up, patting her arse in a companionable way. "Maybe I'm the one teaching him."
They make it through the first half like that, and Harry's distracted enough that she only makes it through one beer. It's nice that way, just a bit warm and buzzy. It's certainly enough for her to press her bound chest against Zayn at halftime and breathe into her neck like she's ready for something else.
"Lads give each other handies, don't they," she says, rubbing her palm on Zayn's stomach.
Zayn laughs. "Gay ones, I'm sure."
"Hey, I never said we couldn't be gay lads, did I?"
"You did not." Zayn slips her hand over to Harry's crotch. Harry's swapped out bananas three times. Wrestling on a couch isn't good for the integrity of one's fruit cock. "And I'm taking this out because I've reached my limit."
Harry sticks out her lower lip. Some people don't appreciate true genius. Of course, Zayn tosses out the banana and slips her fingers in the gap of Harry's pants where a real dick could be, so that's nice. They've done this enough that Zayn doesn't need to see where she's stroking; she finds Harry's clit easily and presses just hard enough that Harry gasps and rolls her hips into the touch.
Zayn nibbles Harry's ear as she brings Harry off, whispering about if they were at uni together and in a dorm. It's one of Harry's favourite fantasies, except this time, they're both men, and there's talk of lube and cocks up the arse, and it's just different enough that Harry comes before she means to. It's not so fast that it's embarrassing, but it does surprise them both when she shivers and goes off.
"Well done, you," Harry says, pushing some of her falling hairs out of her face as she breathes hard. "I've changed my mind. Think I fancy eating you out."
Zayn grins and drops her jeans quickly. "Won't stop you."
Harry settles down between Zayn's legs. The packer's still in her pants, and Harry trails her fingers over it. All the cock-having people Harry's slept with have been so different and interesting, and even with a temporary one, Zayn is much the same. Harry mouths her way over the fabric, tugging it and imagining Zayn filling out her mouth with her cock. She should have brought a dildo. She'd suck off Zayn so good. Zayn's petting at her hair like she does when she likes it, so at least there's that.
The packer goes with its harness when Harry takes the pants off, but then she gets to smell Zayn in her trimmed hair, nuzzle her way down until she gets to taste her. It's easy to picture her clit's a cock when she circles her lips around and sucks, trilling her tongue when Zayn gasps and shakes. Not that it takes a cock to be a lad, and not that Harry doesn't like Zayn's cunt - she does. It's just kind of fun to think on.
She almost shares these thoughts with Zayn, but Zayn's saying "fuck" over and over again, and that's usually a sign she's about to come, so Harry strokes her thighs and licks and nearly bruises her nose when Zayn thrusts against her face and climaxes. It's pretty sick.
Until Zayn starts laughing, at which point Harry comes up and frowns at her. Zayn pets her hair and says, "No, no, it's the game, sorry." Since Harry's head isn't between Zayn's legs, she can hear the crowd on the telly cheering about a goal.
Harry smiles. It's nice to get approval.