#the way harry is frowning but when louis starts talking the fond shows up
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Today’s author is suspendrs / @suspendrs ! Don’t forget to give the fics kudos and leave a comment!
to the cloud and the cold (2k)
Or, Louis is a Summer Fairy, Harry is an Autumn Fairy, and the autumn equinox is the best day of the year.
fearless (97k)
“You’re my best friend, Louis,” Harry says, barely above a whisper. Even if he was yelling, Louis wouldn’t be able to believe his ears. “And I know it’s been a while, but you’re still the person I consider my best friend,” Harry says.
Louis blinks, and then blinks again. “I honestly cannot say the same, Harry,” he says.
Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.
just a little dance (1k)
“Keep your head up, love,” he says, pulling away and grabbing Harry’s hands. “Dance with me.”
“I don’t want to dance,” Harry pouts, but he lets Louis pull him into the center of the dark kitchen, anyway.
“Just a little dance,” Louis says, tugging Harry’s hands until he’s flush against his front.
Or, a tiny drabble based on the cutest lyric from perfect now
ferricadooza! (65k)
Harry can’t even fathom the idea of surrendering; he’d fight ‘til he died, if he had to, anything to keep from surrendering.
Or, the year is 1963, homosexuality is illegal in the UK, Louis owns a gay bar, and Harry’s an underground boxing champion with an unfortunate enemy.
at last, at last (41k)
“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”
Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?
Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.
the act of making noise (32k)
“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”
It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”
“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”
Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.
walls (20k)
The thing about having been on the move so much for the past five years is that now, once they’re finally able to sit down and rest for a bit, they don’t really know what to do with themselves. Louis loved the pace of the band, for all he and the others complained about it; he isn’t very fond of sitting still, and he absolutely loathes boredom, and there was very little space in their lives for either of those things while they were so busy putting out an album every year and touring more often than not. Being in the same room as Harry while neither of them are under the pressure of keeping up appearances feels like being in a room with a total stranger, and the amount of trouble they’re having trying to get to know each other again is really rather alarming.
Or, a love one whole decade in the making, inspired by Louis's debut album.
fine line (22k)
There’s still a lot of things they don’t talk about, a lot of things they don’t bring home with them at the end of the day, and a lot of things that don’t even need to be said. The world is the world and it sucks sometimes, but it’s far away when Harry’s at home and Louis’s here with him and none of it needs to matter when it could just as easily be ignored. Harry tries to open up sometimes, tries to bring Louis into his world, but Louis’s got a world of his own to tend to, and it feels like more often than not they are on two separate planets and the universe just keeps expanding.
Or, a love three more years in the making, inspired by Harry’s sophomore album.
out for a duck (2k)
“Well, once I got control of Clifford, I took him right back to the house and changed my clothes and gave him one hell of a dressing down, let me tell you,” he scoffs. “And then I felt so bad I went back out to see if the duck had gone back to her eggs, and that Clifford hadn’t damaged them or hurt the duck at all. She wasn’t there when I got back, and I sat there for hours waiting for her, but she never showed her face! She just up and abandoned her babies, just left them there cold and alone, all because a dog barked at her,” he sighs, shaking his head.
“Still not sure why the eggs are now in my kitchen,” Louis frowns.
“I couldn’t just leave them there!” Harry says. “It was my fault they were abandoned! Well, Clifford’s fault, but whatever. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left them there to die. So I came back to the house and got a bowl and some gloves and scooped them up so I could bring them home and keep them warm until they hatch.”
Or, Harry accidentally adopts two duck eggs.
what’s inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) (3k)
“Hey!” Niall shouts suddenly, scaring Harry nearly out of his hat. “We like your costume!”
The ghost turns to glance at Niall, producing a hand from under the sheet and giving him a thumbs up. Harry can’t help but laugh a little more, the casual gesture adding to the entire vibe of the sunglasses-wearing ghost.
The ghost looks at them for a moment longer before turning and disappearing into the crowd again, and Harry sighs. “I love Halloween,” he says thoughtfully.
Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.
satellite (100k)
“It’s been three years since I’ve had a proper hot meal,” Louis says finally. “I have no idea where my family is, or if any of them are even still alive. The only reason I’ve been able to keep myself alive for as long as I have is because I keep to myself, stay guarded, stay hidden. It’s the only way I know how to live,” he says.
Harry wants to cry, but he tries to put on a brave face when Louis finally meets his eyes. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to be so guarded around me,” Harry says quietly, earnestly.
“That’s very sweet of you,” Louis says, putting his fork down. “But yes I do. Especially around you.”
Or, Harry finds out that someone's been living in his house without him knowing, but instead of kicking him out, he falls in love with him.
sugar in a plum (4k)
“I’m your dad,” Harry says softly, extending his hand to Plum for her to have a sniff. Plum considers for a moment, looks up at Louis, and then bites Harry’s finger.
“Ow!” Harry shrieks, pulling his hand away quickly. He’s not bleeding, but Plum’s teeth are incredibly sharp, he feels like he’s been stabbed with ten tiny needles. “Jesus, Lou, I thought we were getting a cat, not a demon.”
Or, Harry's new kitten is out to ruin his life.
there are no atheists in foxholes (64k)
“Do you think we’ll ever see it again?” Harry asks after a minute. “London?”
Louis blinks, looking down. They very well could spend the rest of their lives on this island, and they’re both very aware of that. Everyone probably already thinks they’re dead, anyway. Their flats are going to be sold, and their families are going to have funerals, and life is going to go on without them. Even if they do get rescued, it’s already been days. The news of the shipwreck has definitely reached London by now. They don’t know if there’s been any effort to look for survivors, but they also don’t know how far away from the wreck they are, or how far people are going to go to look for them, or if anyone even knows that this island is here and, like, it’s very possible that they’ve already looked and stopped looking for survivors, and no one knows they’re out here-
“I don’t know,” Louis says, before he can start spiraling. “I hope so, but I don’t know.”
Or, the sea takes everything from Louis, but it gives him back more than he ever could’ve asked for.
it ain’t right, but isn’t it amazing (7k)
It’s all Niall’s fault, as most things are. Niall’s the one that made the bloody Tinder account in the first place, and the one that added every decent looking photo of Louis he could find on his phone, and the one that swiped right on the first fifteen guys that popped up. Yeah, Louis might have done the rest of the work that landed him here, in the men’s toilets of a Japanese restaurant in west London with vomit dripping down his chin and down the very, very attractive chest of the very, very attractive man in front of him, but Niall started it.
Or, Harry takes Louis for sushi on the first date. It doesn't go well.
keep this love in a photograph (48k)
“I could never forget a damn thing about you, Harry Styles, not even if I wanted to,” Louis says. His hair falls into his face when he glances over at Harry, the moonlight reflecting off of it and making it glow golden, like maybe Louis himself is the sun.
Harry thinks of how dark and cold his life got once Louis went away, how Harry got a taste of the sweetest sunshine imaginable and then was plunged into the longest winter of his life. He feels like he’s been buried under mounds of snow for months, years, and he’s finally made it to spring, finally getting another taste of how wonderful life can be.
Or, it’s 1919, and Harry’s been falling in love with his best friend for his entire life.
thrills don’t come for free (4k)
The night before comes back to him slowly, puking in the toilet at the club and then falling asleep in his car in the parking lot. He closes his eyes again for a moment until he realizes that the car is on and moving, and someone is driving it that isn’t him.
He picks his head up and peers between the seats, catching sight of a perfect stranger sitting behind the wheel, singing quietly and driving Louis’s car.
Or, Louis has a bit too much to drink and falls asleep in the backseat of Harry's car.
not even the gods above (25k)
The thing is, though, this isn’t good enough for Harry. Sure, he has the rest of his life to be a notable king, but he wants to be notable now. He wants to bring the two kingdoms together and he wants to do it early on, wants to be the one to facilitate the merge until it seems like the two kingdoms were one all along. He doesn’t want to wait, but everyone he’s turned to thinks waiting is the right choice, so he supposes he has to trust them.
That is, of course, until a declaration of war from the Kingdom of Tomlinson shows up at his palace.
somewhere far away from here (12k)
“Harry,” Louis says, squeezing his arm. “Do you know her?”
“My sister,” Harry mutters, eyes glued to the screen.
“What’s she saying?” Louis asks, voice quiet. “What does she want?”
“Me,” Harry murmurs, hardly a breath. “She knows I’m here.”
Or, Harry's sister comes to Earth to bring him home, but Harry's got a few things keeping him here.
i’ll take your pain (2k)
It’s kind of romantic when Harry thinks about it, feeling all the pain of the person he’s supposed to love for the rest of his life. Sure, it’s rather inconvenient when he’s in class and his soulmate gets kicked in the balls, or when he’s sleeping and his soulmate knocks his head or his knee off something. It’d be nice if the function helped them to find each other, but Harry supposes he can live with knowing that they’re destined to run into each other someday.
Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed. (Or, the soulmate au crack fic I can't believe I actually wrote.)
the pink album (31k)
They don’t really discuss how hard it is to be in this situation, or to be doing the things they have to do to continue being together. It’s just something they don’t talk about, and that’s alright. Or maybe it isn’t, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.
Or, a love seven years in the making, inspired by Harry's debut album.
i’ll make this feel like home (41k)
It’s nerdy, much nerdier than anything Harry would have engaged in back home. Perrie and Ed are singing some song from West Side Story and Stan is just giggling along, and it’s almost weird how weird Harry doesn’t find it. Liam and Niall would be running as fast as they could from this interaction, but somehow, Harry finds himself giggling along as well.
Maybe it’s because no one in this group seems like they should belong in this group, but Harry feels like he fits right in. He feels more himself than he has in weeks when Louis plops down beside him for a couple moments and throws out another title to add to their movie marathon. Even though he can’t contribute to the conversation about musicals and he has no idea whether The King and I or Oklahoma is more important, he never feels like an outsider.
Or, Harry is new to Plymouth and has had a rough start, but Louis won't rest until he makes it start to feel like home.
dirty laudry looks good on you (19k)
“So um, Niall mentioned you haven’t lived here long. What brings you to London?”
“What is this, an interview?” Louis smirks, stealing Harry’s drink and taking a sip. “Wanted a change of scenery. Dunno.”
Harry hums and takes his drink back, narrowing his eyes playfully at Louis as he takes a long sip. “Can I buy you a drink, or would you rather keep sharing mine?”
“You most certainly can buy me a drink,” Louis grins, grabbing the bottle back out of Harry’s hand, “but I’m still going to be stealing yours.”
Or, Harry is jaded and sad and resigned to be forever alone, until Niall sets him up with a friend of his whose broken pieces may just fit pretty well with Harry's.
we’ve got to get away from here (23k)
“It is my understanding that you are the most comprehensive member of this agency in the field of extraterrestrial life, is that right?” the agent asks. He’s trying to sound calm, but Louis can tell he’s shaken as well.
“Um, I guess so,” Louis says, glancing over at the man in the blanket again.
Suddenly, Louis’s blood runs cold. There’s something off about the man, something in his gaze, something Louis can’t put his finger on. It’s terribly unsettling, but excitement bubbles in his gut.
Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is the alien that somehow ended up in his office.
in midnights, in cups of coffee (15k)
“Sorry about the sugar,” Louis says, backing toward his own flat. “Bundle up before you go out.”
Harry smiles so sweetly then that Louis can’t imagine he’ll even need the sugar, if the muffins aren’t sweet enough just because they were made by him. “Thanks,” he says, eyes lingering a little longer on Louis before he lets himself back into Gemma’s apartment, and then Louis is just standing in the hallway by himself.
Or, Louis is overworked and cold, Harry is stressed out, and they might be in love.
come away with me (80k)
Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.
in the night (19k)
Or, the self-indulgent reversed pov and slight continuation of come away with me.
my song has not been sung (2k)
Or, Harry is watching a protest from the sidelines until a boy with a rainbow flag and a pretty smile drags him right into the middle of it.
i’ll be home for christmas (12k)
Or, Louis and Harry can’t decide where to go on Christmas.
autumn leaves (27k)
Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.
we’ve got unfinished business (7k)
Or, there’s a ghost in Harry and Louis’s apartment that seemingly just wants them to date.
falling in love with you again (4k)
Or, three times in which Louis fell in love with Harry all over again.
heading for a small disaster (20k)
Or, Harry drives an Uber and Louis’s life is falling apart.
don’t stop to worry (4k)
It was just supposed to be a trim today, to skim off the dead ends of his hair. He had no idea it’d end the way it did.
Or, Harry cuts his hair. It's kind of a big deal.
diamonds, they fade (1k)
The cold does nothing tonight but remind Louis of the boy he left inside, the boy that’s curled up under the blankets by himself right now, the boy that’s probably going to come looking for him soon when he wakes up and Louis isn’t there.
Or, Louis has insomnia.
maps can be poems when you’re on your own (19k)
Or, Harry falls in love with the guy his best friend is fooling around with.
we could be enough (4k)
Or, Harry runs an anonymous crush confession column in the school newspaper and Louis has quite the crush to write in about.
no place to call home (22k)
Or, Louis isn't Peter Pan and Harry isn't Wendy and Neverland is nothing like Harry thought it would be, but it's perfect anyway.
show a little mercy (3k)
Louis hates him so, so much. But then again, he’s never loved someone quite so fiercely.
Or, Louis and Harry try to break up. (Or, a drabble based on Love You Goodbye)
kiss me on the mouth and set me free (17k)
Or, Louis is a gamer and Harry is a beauty guru, and VidCon is a good place to fall in love.
sing me like a choir (17k)
Or, Harry is nervous to do actual makeup on his channel, until his boyfriend Louis helps him out.
please don’t bite (21k)
Or, Harry releases his own line of beauty products, and Louis feels abandoned when Harry’s newfound fame gets the best of him.
underneath the christmas tree (17k)
Louis sends Harry on a scavenger hunt on Christmas Eve.
to be loved and to be in love (50k)
Harry and Louis' first year as a couple, as captured by snippets of home movies.
hope your heart is strong enough (4k)
Prompt: Set in the US, Harry spends Thanksgiving with Louis' family, or vice versa. Chaos ensues.
to watch you fall (16k)
Or, Harry is lonely and Louis is engaged to be married.
give me your hand and i’ll hold it (18k)
Prompt: Harry (9) moves in next to Louis (11). They have little roofs under their bedroom windows and like to sit there and talk. Seven years later, Louis has to leave for college.
you make me strong (14k)
Louis comes home from war with a few more problems than he left with, but Harry can't find it in himself to let him go.
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➵ hold on to me (i’m a little unsteady)
harry has a migraine; louis takes care of her (ft. trans harry, nourry friendship, and pet names galore) | 1.7k words | ao3
The apartment is dark when Louis finally manages to push the front door open. The porch light hadn’t even been turned on, so Louis had to fumble with his phone to light up the lock before succeeding in getting his key in.
He drops said keys in the bowl on the table next to the door, trying to be quiet. He has an assumption; there’s usually a reason for a dark and quiet apartment when Harry is home.
Sure enough, when Louis makes his way to the bedroom - stumbling through the dark guided by the flashlight from his phone - Harry is tuckered out in bed. It’s so dark, it takes Louis a few moments to adjust and realize there’s someone else in bed with Harry. Louis uselessly panics for a heartbeat before common sense kicks in; it’s just Niall.
The moonlight coming in from the window allows him to see Harry curled up in the center of the bed, her head pillowed on Niall’s chest. One of Niall’s hands is in Harry’s hair, but they’re both dead to the world. Louis doesn’t want to disturb them - definitely doesn’t want to disturb Harry - but he also wants to be the one Harry is curled up with.
It doesn’t matter either way, it turns out. Niall blinks his eyes open, causing both of them to startle as Louis had, at that moment, been bent over his and Harry’s bodies. His intent had been to drop a kiss on Harry’s forehead, not to give Niall a heart attack.
They both freeze, watching to see if Harry’s going to wake up. She just grumbles unhappily under her breath and rolls over, effectively freeing Niall.
Louis tugs him out into the hallway.
“For fucks sake, Lou.” Niall has a hand to his chest, still breathing heavily.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. How bad is she?”
Niall sighs. “Left in the middle of class.”
Louis frowns at that, pulling out his phone to see if there’s a text or call he’s missed.
“Mate, it came on so suddenly. Even the light from her phone was too much for her.”
“Oh. You could’ve called me.” He tries not to sound put out, but well.
“She was pretty insistent I didn’t.”
Figures. “How bad s’it?”
Niall makes a face, nose crinkling up. Louis waits patiently, one ear listening for movement in the bedroom while he catalogs the changes in Niall’s expression. Harry’s pretty stubborn when it comes to talking about pain. Harry even admitting she’s in pain is a pretty big indicator; actually leaving class mean it’s serious. Louis just doesn’t know how serious.
“Pretty bad,” Niall settles on. “A seven or an eight, I’d guess. Didn’t take her sunglasses off till she was under the covers. Might’ve been crying a bit. But not as bad as I’ve seen it.”
“Couldn’t eat anything,” he guesses.
“No. Nearly threw up when I suggested it. She only fell asleep a little while ago.”
Louis nods and some of the tension eases in his shoulders. He knows he won’t relax completely until Harry is feeling better. Though, he supposes, that’s not quite fair since living with chronic migraines means Harry is rarely, if ever, feeling one hundred percent.
He pulls Niall into a hug, leaning into the other boy momentarily. A little bit of weakness he wouldn’t let many others see. “Thank you for taking care of my girl.”
“Course, Lou.” Niall rubs his back with one hand. “She’s my best friend.”
Niall leaves shortly after that, and Louis makes a mental note to take him out for a pint in thanks soon. He returns to the bedroom to find, in the short time he’d taken to walk Niall to the door, his girlfriend has woken up.
Harry blinks up at him a couple times before her eyes seem to focus. She stretches out a hand across the sheets, and Louis climbs in beside her without hesitation.
“Hi, baby girl.” He keeps his voice quiet, unsure how she’s doing and not wanting to unintentionally trigger anything. “How are you feeling?” He doesn’t touch her, not yet, but Harry curls her hand in the front of his shirt weakly.
“Better,” she says after a moment, voice heavy with sleep. “Don’t wanna move yet, just in case.”
Louis nods understandably and runs a hand through her thick curls. Harry leans into the touch slightly, so he keeps it up while he talks. “You need anything? Want anything?” He has to specify both because God forbid Harry asks for a glass of water if she’s not dying of thirst.
Harry doesn’t answer right away, just sighs with content as Louis massages at her scalp.
“Want me to rub your back?” he prompts.
“Always,” she replies immediately. “But I don’t want to move.”
Louis starts to sit up, but she clutches at his shirt tighter.
“I can move,” he offers.
“No, want you here.”
He settles back down. Slowly, so slowly it feels like full minutes pass, Harry shuffles forward till their chests are pressed together and she can nose her way under Louis’ chin. She settles, her whole body going boneless. Louis rubs a hand down her back as best he can from this position, tries to massage into her tight shoulders gently.
“Think you could try eating something?” he murmurs.
“In a minute. Just want you right now. Missed you.”
Louis kisses the top of her head. How her hair still manages to smell like her coconut shampoo even after classes all day, he’ll never understand. “I missed you, too, darling.”
They stay like that for longer than a few minutes. In all actuality, it’s probably 15 minutes later that Louis feels Harry start to stir again. He thinks they’ve both started to drift off. His limbs feel heavy with sleep, but when Harry mumbles about food, he kisses the top of her head again and slides out of bed.
He digs through the kitchen for something light on the stomach; something bland without much scent is always a safe bet when Harry’s recovering from a migraine. When he makes it back upstairs, Harry is sitting up in bed, long legs crossed, eyes closed. He pauses at the end of the bed, and Harry opens her eyes.
“I have to pee,” she explains.
“Do you need help?”
She moves to the edge of the bed with glacier slowness. “I don’t think so.”
Louis watches her closely, ready to catch her if she shows signs of feeling weak or dizzy. When Harry finally makes it to her feet, she pauses for a few long moments and then straightens to her full height.
“I’m okay,” she says.
One she makes it to the bathroom, she pauses again. Louis watches her hesitate momentarily before she flicks the light on. He holds his breath, waiting, and then she moves again to stand in front of the toilet. He looks away just as she goes to tug down her pants. She comes back into the room a minute later, smelling like their lemon hand soap, the rings missing from her fingers, with damp palms. She curls into the bed and nibbles on the toast he’s brought her.
“Rubs now?” She looks up at him, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Of course.” He slides in behind her, his hands automatically going for her hair which falls in a mix of ringlets and waves down past her shoulders. He runs his fingers through it a few times, massaging at her scalp gently to help her relax. He knows it works because it almost always works, and her shoulders droop almost instantaneously. Her chin drops to her chest, baring the back of her neck for him.
Louis smiles and tucks her hair out of the way so he can press a kiss to her exposed skin. “Finish your toast,” he teases.
His fingers move to her neck when she complies, and he starts massaging there, moving up into her hairline a little before moving on to her shoulders.
By the time Louis makes it to her lower back, Harry has been reduced to the human equivalent of a puddle.
Louis eases her onto her side and spoons up behind her. “How do you feel?”
Harry’s response is a quiet, unintelligible noise.
“Sleep, baby girl.”
Louis stays home with Harry the next day. Her migraine is gone, but she’s still recovering. Nobody ever really talks about after a migraine is gone. The nausea lingers, as does the dizziness and general weakness. Like getting over the flu, Harry had once explained.
They cuddle on the couch, Harry swaddled in blankets with her head in Louis’ lap. Louis plays with her curls and rubs at her shoulders.
In the middle of watching Tangled, Harry rolls over onto her back and smiles up at him. Louis pokes at her dimple, and her smile deepens.
“I love you,” she says. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
Louis presses a kiss to her lips, the barest of touches. “I love you more.”
Harry shakes her head ever so slightly, hair falling over Louis’ knee. “Nope,” she argues, popping the P.
He pokes her in the side, and she squirms. “Yes.”
She leans up on her elbows and presses another kiss to his lips. “I love you most.” He doesn’t respond, too caught up in the lingering kisses.
“You’re trying to distract me,” he says.
She sits up, crawling into his lap. “Maybe I just like kissing you.”
“Don’t see why it can’t be both.”
They kiss for long minutes. Harry bites at his bottom lip before licking inside. Louis runs his hands up her sides to cup her face.
“How are you feeling?” he asks when they separate to catch their breath.
“Perfect,” she says, leaning back in to kiss him.
He pulls away before she can connect their lips, frowning.
“Okay,” she amends, “not perfect, but better. Let me kiss you.”
They exchange kisses, soft and slow, for a few minutes before she lies back down. His hand goes to her hair again, playing with the curls more than massaging.
“I won by the way,” she says. He hums in question. “I love you the most,” she explains.
Louis rolls his eyes. “You cheated.”
She, predictably, elects to ignore that. They settle in to watch the rest of the movie.
“You were my new dream,” Harry quotes along with Flynn.
Louis smiles, overwhelmingly fond. He wants to stay right here, in this moment, forever. He presses a kiss to the side of her head. “And you were mine,” he whispers.
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You & Me : chapter 11
A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA
Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS
CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10
NOTES:
-one chapter is her pov, the next is his.
-4.6k
-im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it.
-there WILL be smut. but not only smut.
-this is a romance, comedy, smut story.
-for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.
- notes: im excited for the next few chapters to come tbh. if you still read and comment and reblog and like after AM Conversations and this sequel, i want you to know it means a lot to me. i cant even explain. i wrote 11 chapters of this sequel in only a month. thats all because of you guys. thank you, i love you!!!
if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)
requests! : i changed one of the requests only slightly (like the drunk thing) but i think its not that bad. spoilers if you read those requests btw!
Chapter 11 : His chapter
NIALL
Her eyes met mine and her lips parted as I let my arm fall on the side of my body, still holding my phone maybe a bit too tight. Did I enjoy the thought of Olivia and I back together? I couldn't pretend otherwise, of course I did. What I didn't like is some random crappy online journalist announcing it before anything even happened. She wanted to back away, I could read it in her eyes, and I knew I had to do something to keep her from pushing me away.
"You're having that flashback too, don't you?"
She chuckled without amusement and raised her eyebrows, glancing down before looking up in my eyes. I didn't want to ruin the mood by showing her that article but at the same time, i knew I had to, if only to prepare her for what was to come. When one article comes out, it sort of gives the green light to every other garbage web sites to say the same thing.
"You and me, getting out of the movies and seeing an article about us dating while I was with Harry and you were with Maya?" she asked before sighing. "Oh yea, fresh memory. Harry was so kind about it."
"Maya was not." I added, my hands in my pockets, making her lips curl. "She was pissed. We argued for over an hour that night."
Her face changed and her smile fell quickly.
"It's the night Harry broke up with me."
I felt something stir in my stomach and I held my breath. I remembered that, too, because I had rushed to her to comfort her. It was the night I touched her, the first time I heard and saw her get an orgasm, one that I gave her, and that thought made a shiver run across my back before I cleared my throat.
"Sorry for the bad memory."
I knew she wanted to say something, I knew her by heart, but when I noticed she wouldn't talk, It reminded me why Harry actually broke up with her. I only found out later, but Harry had mentioned that it was because he knew she was in love with me. Were we going around in circles?
"No it's okay." she just replied, bringing her arms around herself and shrugging. "It's not like Dylan was gonna break up with me for a stupid article."
We both knew that was not why Harry had broken up with her but I decided to keep quiet. This article would already make our friendship falter and there was no way I wanted to make it worse. My eyes roamed on her and I wondered if I just shouldn't tell her how I felt now. Spill it all, tell her I needed her, ask her to drop everything and choose me, and although it was tempting, I was scared it would just ruin everything. The problem was, she looked so beautiful and vulnerable at that exact moment, that I felt like I could be, too. I could be vulnerable in front of her.
"Of course not." I just replied right before her eyes met mine.
She sent me a small smile and nodded, walking past me as I followed her to the door. We entered and took our shoes off and when the door closed, I heard Louis' voice coming from the kitchen.
"Oi Oiii!" he yelled, making me roll my eyes. "My queen is that you? I bought sushi!"
I expected to see his face but it's actually Eleanor's head that poked from the kitchen. Her smile turned into a surprise expression before coming back even bigger
"Hey! Niall!"
She walked up to us and kissed my cheeks before doing the same to Liv. Her smile was contagious and she made a quick head movement.
"Do you guys want to join us for dinner?"
I glanced at Liv only to notice she was already looking at me with a small smile, making me smile too
"Mmhm, yea, sure, thanks guys."
We prepared the food and the wine and brought everything to the table before sitting down. I ended up sitting next to Olivia, in front of Louis and El and even I could have guessed it would, it didn't feel awkward at all to be with a couple.
"I just realized we never had a dinner like that before." Eleanor pointed, her face illuminating. "I mean, I know you two aren't together and... only a few weeks after you two got together, Louis and I.." she just said without finishing her sentence.
She turned to Louis and tilted her head, sending him a fond smile and I couldn't help but glance at Liv. She just grabbed her glass and took a sip before looking at the food in her plate and I frowned a bit, feeling her suddenly tense next to me.
"So Tommo, how's the album coming?" I just asked, trying to change the subject.
I saw Louis' face illuminate, chewing quickly and swallowing before shaking his head. I noticed my ex girlfriend smiling too and even if I didn't know why, I loved seeing her happy.
"Great! I'm taking my time, no rush, I just want to have fun and write something that reflects who I am." he explained as I nodded. "You know what I mean."
Yes, I fucking knew what he meant. My album felt like a mirror of the feelings I had back when I recorded it... and even now. That thought made me glance at Liv again until Eleanor talked.
"By the way, Louis finally made me listen to the song he wrote for you Liv and he mentioned you asked what I thought." she started, making Olivia look down suddenly. "I hope you know i'm totally okay with that. I know you went through a lot together and i'm all cool with that. It's a beautiful song, too."
I felt my heart jump in my throat as her words starting sinking in. Louis had written a song about her? Now I felt extremely curious to find out what it said but also fairly jealous.
"Thanks, I was a bit scared about that. It's a beautiful song I agree." Olivia chuckled low. "I can't believe he wrote that for me. I cried when he made me listen." she then admitted with a real laugh.
I watched their interaction while holding my breath. Witnessing the fact that my ex girlfriend, about whom I wrote an entire album, was touched by someone else writing one song about her was making something burn inside me. Of course, we had never discussed my album together but I couldn't believe she wouldn't acknowledge it at all, praising Louis for something I did at least 10 times, and more, if you count all the songs that didn't make it to the album that were also written about her.
I swallowed my pride and annoyance but a lump remained stuck and I cleared my throat, trying to get their attention. I was not going to mention that now, though. I didn't want to start drama or make everything awkward, but I took a mental note to ask Olivia about it, for sure. Did she not like the songs I wrote for her? Did it not touch her?
"What's the song about?" I asked, trying to be casual.
"Friendship, mate. Just friendship, and how we went through things together." Louis said, looking straight in my eyes. "Also, it pretty much says she's perfect the way she is and that I wished she'd see it the way I see it."
I nodded as if anyone needed my approval and Louis sent me an understanding smile. He knew exactly how I felt, I could read it in his eyes, and the fact that I was jealous of him was ridiculous but I couldn't help it. I didn't really know what they went through together but I knew it had been intense. They were both heartbroken and spent all their time together. No one else had been there and no one else could really know what had happened but If I had to, I'd guess on intense crying sessions and liters of alcohol.
"It was beautiful, I really didn't expect it." Liv added, making the lump in my throat even harder to swallow. "I'm super grateful."
"You're welcome, my queen."
I turned my head away and grimaced slightly, hating myself for letting this affect me. It really shouldn't. It was juvenile of me to take this against me because it literally had nothing to do with me.
The night went on and we talked about a lot of memories and plans we had for the future. It was amazing to find my friends back and have fun with them the way we used to. It had been a bit awkward with Louis in the past months, probably due to the fact that he and Liv became very close and he had tried to keep us at a fair distance from each other.
I thought about how my life had changed in only a few weeks and I liked it like that. I knew that I was missing on something before Olivia and I bumped into each other again but I don't think I really realized to which extent. I had lost many things when I broke up with her and now that it was all coming back, I never wanted to lose it again. It was an understatement to say that Olivia changed my whole life whenever she was in it and after being away from her for so long, it was even more obvious.
When I finally got out of my own thoughts, I tried to catch up with the discussion, not really sure what I had missed exactly but when I understood, I lost my smile as my heart literally dropped in my chest.
"So when are we going shopping for that dress?"
Olivia grimaced and my lips curled very slightly again. I always thought she made the cutest faces and this one was no exception.
"I need to lose weight before, can't look like that in my wedding dress."
My smile faltered as I was reminded of the fact that she was getting married and I frowned despite myself. Louis quickly jumped in and reached for her hand on the table.
"You're perfect the way you are." he just pointed out, looking straight in her eyes. "Right Neil?"
Everyone turned to me and I tried to stop a groan from coming out of my mouth. I should have said something before Louis did, this I knew, but I was focusing on the fact that the love of my life was getting married to someone who wasn't me and I guess it had made me a bit slow to react. Now that Louis had put everyone's attention on me, Liv would probably think I was pressured to say something nice which clearly wouldn't be true.
My eyes found hers and I licked my lips. I loved how she had changed, actually. She grew up and she was glowing. She was never a fan of her body but I was. I loved her curves, I loved her soft skin and the way she'd get goosebumps when i'd brush my fingertips on it, no matter where. I loved her hair and the way it fell in her eyes when she slept. I loved her thin lips and when a smile played on them. I loved her laughter and how her eyes became smaller and sparkled when she'd raise her nose up. I loved watching her naked, walking towards me, her hips moving slowly, making it obvious I was going to get some.
"You are. You're perfect, Olivia."
Her lips curled a bit and she nodded, pressing her lips together. Suddenly, I wanted to kiss her again. It was always on the back or my mind but looking at her like that and thinking about every feature of her body made me want it so bad that I had to hold my breath to make sure I wouldn't just move closer and crash my mouth against hers.
"Excuse me." I cleared my throat and quickly got up, leaving the table and rushing to the bathroom.
I groaned and closed my eyes, leaning against the counter, just tired to see my stupid mug in the mirror. Was this going anywhere anyway? And if it was not, would I be able to just be around her while she'd be married to an other man? When Louis asked me to tell her she was perfect the way she was, only a few words had came out of my mouth when a hundred wanted to. I couldn't express myself and I hated it. I couldn't tell her how much she meant to me and it was killing me. I gripped the counter harder and bent down, cursing under my breath to myself, until I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced but I just opened the door quickly only to see her standing here. I didn't know how long we stared at each other but the intense desire I had to kiss her was back at full force.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a soft and low tone.
I could hear worries in her voice and I sent her a small smile while nodding.
"Yea, i'm okay." I just said, swallowing hard. "You know, about you wanting to lose weight and shit..."
Her eyebrows raised but quickly, she frowned before I shook my head, trying to untangle the words bumping on the sides of my skull like the logo of a fucking dvd in the corner of a tv.
"You just, you look so good, you don't need to change anything." I stammered, cursing internally. "I love everything about you."
"Everything?" she repeated, licking her lips. "I mean, you haven't seen me naked in a while."
The sight of her getting undressed in my guest room invaded my mind and I swallowed hard, trying to push the thought away. I couldn't tell her that indeed, I had, and that she turned me on even more than she did a year ago. I couldn't also deny it because I had promised myself i'd never lie to her again.
"Everything, Olivia."
She started nibbling her bottom lip and the craving of feeling her mouth on mine intensified. I didn't even know it was possible. She leaned against the door frame and I took a step closer to her, bending down as she looked up.
"You're literally the most gorgeous girl i've ever seen." I whispered, moving even closer, hoping she wouldn't move.
Her eyes got bigger in surprise and I just blinked a few times. I had seen a lot of sexy girls in my life, it was true. Girls with perfect bodies and incredible faces, but none of these girls could make me feel the way she made me feel. None of these girls could turn me on the way she did. One time, she told me that no one else was me and that was exactly how I felt, too. No one was her. I wanted no one else.
I bent down more and she raised her chin up, making my heart jump in my chest. With that gesture, I knew she wanted it too. She wanted me to kiss her and I was almost sure she wouldn't push me away, at least not before I could have a little taste of her, and I was ready to risk it. I tried not to talk, scared to ruin the moment or make her back away. I could feel her lips brushing against mine. I could swallow her breath and it started making me feel a bit dizzy for a reason I ignored, but just as I was about to press my slightly open mouth against hers, she pushed me away and got on her knees right in front of the toilet to throw up.
It took me a second to react but I got on my knees too, remaining close to her and I finally grabbed her hair, holding it away from her face as she threw up again. My free hand reached for her back and I rubbed it gently, feeling disappointed that we didn't kiss and guilty for being disappointed in a moment like this.
"You're okay, i'm here." I whispered as I watched her fingers grip the side of the toilet harder while she threw up for a third time.
After about a minute, Louis appeared through the door and I turned around just in time to see his face change. He seemed in panic mode and licked his lips quickly.
"I'll get a towel."
He was back a few seconds later and turned the water on, soaking the towel and handing it to me. I moved her hair away again and started brushing the cold towel on her cheek as she groaned, her eyes still closed.
"I can do it." Louis said, making me shake my head quickly.
"No, I got this, thanks."
He waited a few seconds but finally left and without thinking, I pushed the door, almost closing it. Olivia groaned again and when I noticed she was trying to get up, I helped her slowly. She leaned one of her hands on the counter for balance as I moved the towel on her face and she opened her eyes, meeting mine.
"I'm so sorry for this." she mumbled, grimacing and making me smile. "Sorry for the bad breath, too."
"Your breath doesn't bother me, you should know that by now." I pointed out in a gentle tone, smiling more.
"This is different, it smells like vomit."
"Your vomit doesn't bother me." I argued again.
"it bothers me though."
I moved closer to her just to flush the toilet and she sighed, swallowing hard and grimacing again. I brought my hand to her back again, my whole palm pressed against it as I rubbed it gently.
"Feeling better?"
She raised her nose up and groaned with a shrug.
"You should get a rest." I pointed out as she shook her head.
"I need to take my make up off first." she explained with a sigh, closing her eyes.
She looked exhausted and I tilted my head until she opened her eyes again.
"I can do it for you." I proposed in a low tone, opening one of the drawers and grabbing the bottle I was used to see her buy. "This, yea?"
She blinked a few times and nodded before pointing me something else. I grabbed it too and poured some of the cleanser on a cotton pad slowly. When I looked up, she was staring at me with a fond smile that I sent back.
"Okay, close your eyes." I asked low again before rubbing gently the pad on both her eyes, watching it get colored quickly. "Don't move."
My lips parted a bit as I used an other pad, running in on her face and going even slower when I reached her lips. I stopped just looking at her for a few seconds and finally cleared my throat again.
"Okay, you can open your eyes." I just said, watching her eyes flutter open. A smile appeared on my lips and I chuckled low. "This is harder than it looks. You've got some black left under your eyes."
She smiled more and tilted her chin up before I brushed the pad under one of her eyes. I watched her eyelid flutter a bit as she tried to keep her eye open and did the same with the other eye. The silence in the room was not heavy. It was actually comforting in a way I couldn't explain. I felt like I was locked alone with her on an island. I felt like nothing could tear us apart. I threw away the pads and when I looked back at her, I noticed her eyes were still on me.
"Thank you." she whispered, making me smile again.
I grabbed the towel and turned it around to run the cold and wet fabric on her face, making sure it was not on the same side I had used after she threw up and when I was done, I sighed with a grin.
"Okay, let's get you in bed now."
She groaned again, her nose raising in a grimace, and it made me chuckle. "Don't be a baby!"
I turned around and bent down slightly, waiting for her to get on my back but after a few seconds, I chuckled again.
"Come on, petal."
"I just... Niall, I did gain a little weight I don't think you can-"
"Shut up and get on my back."
It took a few seconds but she did what I asked and I grabbed her behind her knees as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I opened the door more with one of my feet and brought her to her room without even asking which one it was. I put her as gently as I could on the mattress and she chuckled tiredly as I turned around to look at her.
"Do you want me to help you get undressed the way you did for me?" I asked, a smirk playing on my lips and making her laugh even more.
"No thank you, I'm good." she joked. "I'm sick, not drunk."
I stared at her for a few seconds and she did the same. Now would be a horrible time to kiss her but the will I had to do it was still extremely fierce. I bent down and kissed her forehead quickly instead before taking a step back and sliding both my hands in my pockets.
"I'll see if Louis and El need help okay? You rest."
She nodded and turned around to leave but I stopped when she almost yelled my name and when I turned around, I noticed she was sitting. I waited for about a minute, just looking in her eyes and focusing on the beatings of my heart, but she ended up just licking her lips.
"When are you... when am I gonna see you again?"
The question took me by surprise and I raised my eyebrows, bringing one of my hands behind my head to scratch it lightly.
"Uhm, do you want to go somewhere tomorrow night? A pub or a club or something? We could ask our friends-"
"Yes, let's do that." she replied fast, making me smile and nod.
I let out all the air I had kept in my lungs come out as soon as I closed the door behind me and tried to get back to my senses as I walked to the kitchen. Louis and El were having an other glass of wine and I sent them a smile, leaning against the wall. They noticed me and pulled away slightly, making me smile more. There was always something magnetic between them, perhaps something similar to what Liv and I had, maybe still have.
"She's in bed, I think she'll be okay." I told them as Louis nodded. "I think It's time for me to go back home."
I searched through my pants to grab my keys and closed my eyes with a groan suddenly.
"No fucking way." I grumbled, looking at my key chain and sighing. "Not again."
Louis got closer and I glanced at him before shaking my head.
"I lost my key. Again. I don't know how I fucking do that."
"You can sleep here, the guest room is free, sheets are clean." Louis proposed with a shrug. "Room's yours, mate."
I pressed my lips together as I stared at him. The only other solution I could find was to ask Heidi for her key but just thinking about calling her and explaining where I was seemed like too much trouble. After that, she'd probably ask me to sleep at her place or follow me to mine, which was also not something I was in the mood for.
"Okay, thanks, I appreciate."
It took us all about half an hour to get ready and go to bed but when the whole house was quiet and in the dark, I just lied down in bed with my hands under my head, watching the ceiling and trying to remember all the events of the day. Were we really that close to kiss? Was I that close to feel her lips on mine again and maybe more? I closed my eyes tight at that thought and without thinking, I threw my covers away and got out of the room, quietly walking up to hers. I didn't dare to knock but just walked inside until I was close enough to whisper her name.
"Liv, hey."
She groaned and turned around on her back. I was used to the darkness now and saw her blink a few times, her eyes meeting mine before she frowned.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Late." I replied, licking my lips. "Can I sleep with you?"
She sat up and my eyes fell on her chest, noticing she was wearing a familiar shirt. She rubbed her eyes and whimpered low, letting out a yawn that made my lips curl.
"Why are you still here?"
"Lost my key, Louis said I could spend the night." I explained quickly. "Can I sleep in your bed."
She seemed to hesitate but after a while, she just nodded and moved away to give me space. I slithered under the sheets and she turned my way, staring at me for a few seconds. She seemed totally awake now and I just smiled at her, thanking her.
"I recognize the shirt." I pointed out, not really sure if I should really mention it. "I was looking everywhere for it you know."
"Lies." she replied quickly. "I've had it only for a few days."
"You mean you stole it after I let you borrow it because you forgot to bring one."
"I wouldn't say 'steal'." she argued with a shrug.
"What would you say then?"
Silence. I let out a laugh and she grimaced.
"Shut up and sleep."
I laughed again and she turned around, sliding one of her arms under her pillow as her back now faced me. I stared at it for a few seconds and finally inhaled deeply before moving closer to her, wrapping one of my arms around her and reaching for her hand under the pillow with my other one. She whimpered so low that I was not sure I heard right but slowly, she let her fingertips brush against the arm around her and I smiled more.
"Liv?" I asked in a whisper, making her whimper again. "Do you think you were sick because.. of.. I mean, are you getting married because.."
I couldn't seem to finish my sentence but I was not sure if it was because It was a stupid question or because I was scared of the answer. It took her a few seconds but she finally started laughing.
"I'm not pregnant, Nial!l" she chuckled. "Just, never let Louis choose the sushis ever again. Now sleep."
I smiled and placed my head on the pillow before closing my eyes. Feeling her warm body against mine made me feel suddenly better but when she moved back slightly, I realized her legs were bare, just like mine. Her thighs pressed against mine and once again, I realized how perfectly her body fitted with mine. She started snoring lightly and I grabbed her fingers again, squeezing them lightly but decided to leave my body pressed against hers. I moved my head closer, my lips almost touching her nape, her hair tickling my nose, and swallowed hard. I knew she couldn't hear me but I licked my lips anyway before whispering.
"You're perfect."
#niall horan#niall horan fluff#niall horan smut#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan writing#niall horan story#my fanfics#yam#cant believe i made a whole chapter about only 1 evening lol
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mastermind; chapter 4
"So basically he says that if I keep my marks up he'll buy me a car," Julia summarizes her dinner with her father, the next morning.
"Does he... not know you have a 4.0 GPA?" I ask, bringing a mug of coffee to my lips.
"No, I haven't talked to him in a long time, and I don't think I've ever told him my marks," she explains, placing banana slices on the peanut buttered toast. "And I told him I had a 3.6 right now so that next time I can say I have a 4.0. He'll be prouder and thus my gift will be bigger."
I shake my head. A sudden thought appears in my mind.
"Did you tell Harry you were seeing your father last night?" I ask.
"No," she frowns. "I told you."
I roll my eyes at her. "You're supposed to tell Harry too, Julia."
"Why? We didn't have anything planned."
"Yeah, but your mending your relationship with your father. That's something you're meant to tell your boyfriend about."
She's pondering over this when the door to our apartment unlocks and I know it has to be Harry, because no one else has a key.
"'Ello, love!" he greets Julia, who stands to wrap her arms around him. He kisses her cheek, then pulls a chair to sit at the table with us in the small kitchen. "Alright, Aria?" he nods at me. He doesn't look at me like he's worried I'll burst into tears and weep over my failures, instead he looks at me like a friend wanting to make sure I'm okay.
I nod, and he doesn't ask anything else. I know immediately he's not going to talk about last night in front of Julia which makes me happy because I'd rather no one knows about my breakdown. Not even Julia.
"You didn't tell me you were seeing your father last night," he tells Julia, picking up a banana from the fruit bowl.
"It was kind of last minute. I checked my emails and it turned out he sent me one a week ago, so I responded right away and next thing I know, Liam is at the door," she says.
"Your own father doesn't have your phone number," Harry says slowly.
"I forgot to give it to him since I changed it! Don't make me feel worse, I already feel bad."
"You should. He doesn't even have your number and you want a car from him," I snicker at Julia and get ready to leave. "Anyway, I have to leave for work now."
"Are you gonna go to the art shop after?" Julia asks, wiggling her eyebrows behind Harry. I roll my eyes, knowing she wants me to see Zayn again.
"Too far, not today."
"Where is it?" Harry asks suddenly.
"On Lancaster and Mill Road," I answer.
"That's on the other side of town!" he states. I nod. "It takes ages to get there."
"Which is why I'm not going today," I conclude, putting my shoes on.
"Let me know next time you go, I'll drive you," he offers. I'm taken aback for a moment at his generosity.
"It's alright, you don't have to do that—"
"No, Aria it's probably a good idea. It's not very safe on that side of town," Julia adds. Harry nods in agreement.
"O-okay, thanks."
---
Harry, Niall and Louis have a small house just a few minutes off campus. It's a short walk there after my class on Monday. I knock at the front door with a plate of fresh cookies I whipped up at home before coming here. Harry actually loved my brownies more but he didn't know they were mine, he was under they impression that they were Julia's brownies.
Louis swings the door open and greets me with a hug.
"Aria! I haven't seen you in so long, where've you been?" he exclaims.
"School and work," I mutter, stepping inside. They have a small, quaint house. It's surprisingly tidy most of the time for a boys' house. I was told years ago that Harry and Niall are very clean neat freaks while Louis makes a mess worth three people's doing. But every year he makes less and less of a mess; living with Harry and Niall is changing him for the better. It's quiet inside, aside from the noises coming from the TV. Immediately, I know Niall isn't home because when he is he doesn't shut up, and he's loud enough for the whole block to hear.
"Oh, yeah, how's the movie theatre job working out for you?"
"Boring as shit. I hate it," I admit.
"I told you, you would hate it, didn't I?" he says smugly. "Are these cookies for me?"
He grabs the plate without waiting for me to answer and pulls the plastic wrap back to eat one.
"Sure... um, is Harry home?" I ask casually.
"Harry?" Louis raises an eyebrow. "No, he's doing a group project. Why?"
Shit. I knew I should have set a date and time with him before coming over to his house. But that's what the cookies were for, I hoped I could bribe him to take me to the art shop today.
"Oh, nothing, he offered to drive me to this art shop, but I can just go myself."
"Where is it?" Louis asked through a mouth full of cookie.
"Lancaster and Mill Road."
"Shit, Aria that's far. Come, I'll drive you, I'm not busy."
No matter how much I assured him that I was okay going on my own, he wouldn't listen. I told him I went alone many times but then he got mad that I would go to such a sketchy area by myself.
Louis' car was not as neat and clean as Harry's but that was Louis for you. We chatter the whole way to the shop. He tells me about how his organic chemistry class was a "pain in the ass" and the lovely brunette that he always sat behind wasn't helping him focus. I told him to stop sitting behind her but he said he liked her perfume too much.
Louis parks at the side of the road where I tell him and we hop out of the car. Once inside the shop, Zayn looks at Louis curiously. The few times that I came here, I came alone.
"Zayn, meet my friend Louis," I introduce. "Louis, this is Zayn, he's in my program."
Louis smiles at Zayn who raises his arm to wave. The action instantly causes Louis' eyes to zero in on Zayn's tattoos and I inwardly groan. Louis had been talking about nothing but getting a tattoo for about a year now. He never goes to get it, he just loves to make us go crazy with his constant ramblings.
"Sick tattoos, mate," Louis says in wonder. "D'you mind if I have a look at 'em?"
Zayn shakes his head and pulls his sleeves up to show them to Louis. Quite curious, I lean forward to get a glimpse, too. Zayn is quiet about most of them, but the ones he deems "stupid" he tells us the story behind.
"I really like the crossed fingers and the zap one," I chime in. My comment brings on the discussion of comic books and the two boys start talking about superheroes and their favourite comics. Rolling my eyes at them, I start my shopping.
The modelling clay I need for my sculpture is easy to find. The Tombow brush pens are still not on sale, maybe I can bribe Zayn to use his discount on me. I grab a few more Windsor & Newton bottles, since I almost have all the colours and a complete set would be nice. I want to draw more since I've been doing nothing but calligraphy for weeks now. I ponder over a pack of pencils, and decide against getting it. If I look deep enough through my things, I'll find the ones I already have. But I do grab charcoal pencils. I need a new sketchbook but I also don't have enough to buy one yet. I guess I can get it with my next paycheck. I look down at the inks I've chosen and make the hard decision to put them back. I have to remind myself I don't have a father like Julia's to have the luxury of buying everything I always want.
Making my way over to the cash where Zayn and Louis are now talking about video games, I set my items on the counter. Zayn rings me up and I pay for my items.
"Mate, we should hang out sometime," Louis says suddenly. "You can come over to mine and we'll play video games or something."
"Alright," Zayn beams. I try not to think about how I've been visiting the art shop for a few weeks now, hoping to at least get Zayn's number, but I bring Louis one time and he's already gotten a date.
My receipt was in his hand, but Zayn sets that aside and rips out a new one to write his number and slide it to Louis.
"Awesome, see you soon, I guess," Louis says. I give Zayn a curt wave and walk out, following Louis.
"So... you two got along well," I say slowly, once we start driving back.
"Yeah, he's really cool. Told him I wanted a tattoo and he said he'll draw me a few designs," he says excitedly.
I frown, "I could draw you a tattoo."
"I know," Louis says quickly. "But he's so cool, I want him to do it."
I roll my eyes, not really taking any offence to his words. Zayn is cool.
"He does want to be a tattoo artist," I share, glad that I still know Zayn a bit more than Louis does.
"Yeah, he told me." Ugh. "It's amazing. I also really hope he shows me his studio one day, I'd love to see his spray painting."
He spray paints?
I huff, angry that I didn't know that or that he had a studio, but Louis did.
"Well, I hope I wasn't a cockblock," I scowl. Louis laughs.
"Sorry, love? Are you jealous because you wanted his number?"
"Shut up or I'm gonna go date that pretty brunette from your organic chemistry class."
---
"Why don't you work at the art shop?" Louis asks me when pulls up in front of my building. I don't respond because I've never really thought about it. "It'd be way more fun than the stupid theatre. And you'll have Zayn."
I can't argue with him because he is right.
"I don't know..." I hesitate, "it does sound good, and I could get a discount on the items." Now that's something I wouldn't mind. "It's really far, though."
"I could drive you," Louis says. I don't know what it is about people and being generous enough to offer driving me places, but I have a feeling that with Louis it has more to do with seeing Zayn again rather then my safety. Nonetheless, a fond smile grows on my face.
"If I do work there, you can drive me on weekends. I don't want you wasting your time going all the way there and back when you should be studying."
"Ahahaha... studying, yeah..." Louis chuckles. I get out of his car and thank him for driving me. "No problem, love, say hi to Julia for me!"
I watch him drive away before making my way inside. The main reason I wanted to go to the art shop was so I could talk to Zayn about my sculpture and see if he has any ideas, but with Louis there, I wasn't able to. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation to talk about an art piece I'm making, that's something I'd rather talk to Zayn alone about.
Maybe next time.
---
On Mondays Harry was usually at ours with Julia when I got home. They persuaded me to come out and watch whatever show they were watching at the time, and I only agreed if I could do my work at the same time, On Tuesdays, I would take pictures for my photography class. Harry watched intently when I did a photo shoot with Julia, but the weeks after when I was to take pictures of random household items, he liked to get in my way and be annoying. Wednesday mornings, Harry and I both had early morning classes that resulted in us often seeing each other at Starbucks. When he wasn't being annoying, I'd let him cut in line in front of me. On Thursdays, we found out we both finished at four when I bumped into him on way out of the building I was in. Julia still had class until six, so we sat at our Starbucks (which was conveniently in front of the building Julia was in) and did some homework while we waited for her. On Fridays, Harry and Julia had a lecture in the morning, then a four hour break, then a class in the evening. Harry usually went home after their last class so I wouldn't see him until the next day.
For some reason after I agreed to be friends with Harry, the universe seemed to always throw us together. It was like now that we were friends, I was suddenly realizing how close our classes were around campus. This struck me as weird because I always knew when Harry was in the room before because I was so intent on avoiding him. I wonder if Harry had seen me around all this time, but was avoiding me because he thought I wouldn't want to see him. This realization made me feel like a bitch.
It's now two weeks before the end of the semester and the start of exam week. Julia's dad wanted to meet with her again and make sure she's doing well and isn't stressed out.
"I'm going to dinner with my father again today," Julia's announces on Thursday. "So you and Harry don't have to wait up for me at Starbucks, Liam is going to pick me up after my class ends."
Liam was Mr. Tate's personal assistant. I finally had the pleasure of putting a face to the name when he came up in my Instagram recommendations because he was mutual friends with Julia. And he was really hot.
"Okay," I answer. "Do you want to ask your dad for one of those fancy Nespresso coffee machines? We still need a machine and I'm running out of coffee money."
"Oh yes, I will. It would be so nice to be able to make coffee at home again."
I still bump into Harry when I leave my class at four.
"Oh, hey," he says when he sees me. "Starbucks?" he asks, not even waiting as he starts walking that way.
"Well, actually, we don't really have to," I answer. "Julia is having dinner with her father after class ends."
"Oh," he frowns shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. He's probably wondering why Julia didn't tell him, but he doesn't know this is why Julia is bad at relationships. He walks back towards me and a waft of his cologne hits my nose. Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille, if I'm not mistaken.
"Nice cologne," I comment and instantly regret it. Why am I talking about his cologne?!
"Thanks, I love it. Julia got it for me," he says proudly. My heart beats a little faster.
"Oh, did she?" I wonder, even though I know the answer. I don't know even know why I brought it up. Harry gives me a nod.
"So what should we do?" he questions, a beautiful smile still on his beautiful face.
My heart flutters at the "we".
"Um, well if you don't mind... I wanted to go to the art stop again."
The last time I went was with Louis, and I desperately needed a new sketchbook. I was tired of pulling paper from the printer when I needed to sketch something. And I had enough money now to buy it and still be able to feed myself.
"Sure, lets go!" he says enthusiastically and we begin walking side by side to his house so we can get his car. It's not that far of a walk, only about ten minutes, but I wonder why he doesn't bring his car when he goes to classes since it would be even quicker.
"Why don't you drive your car to the campus?" I ask.
He laughs. "I'm not trying to kill the planet."
I pull my scarf up closer to my face.
"No? Then why do you waste so many coffee cups from Starbucks?" I tease.
"Oh shit, I do use a lot of coffee cups... Hey! So do you!" he says suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
"Actually, I'll have you know, I told Julia to ask her father for an espresso machine so I can make my own coffee."
"Wow, that is a huge contribution to the saving the planet."
"Thank you!" I chirp.
"Does this mean I won't be seeing you at our Starbucks on Wednesday mornings anymore?"
I gaze at him curiously.
"No you'll still see me, I can't be bothered to make my own coffee that early in the morning. Last time I rushed to make coffee, I broke our machine."
"Then what about the planet? Who's going to save it?" he waves his arms wildly. I roll my eyes at him affectionately.
"Trust me, if I fail to make coffee, I'm a bigger hazard to the planet that early in the morning. And besides, heroes need to take a break from the saving the world too."
He stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to look at a tree. I'm a little startled because this isn't something I anticipated and I'm growing concerned every second he stays staring at the tree.
"Harry, are you okay?"
"Look at that branch," he points to a random branch on the tree. Then he reaches up and carefully breaks the one with several smaller branches sticking out of it. He presents to me with a smile and I look at him in confusion, and definitely worried now.
"Wow..." I say slowly and take it from him, "thanks..."
It's his turn to affectionately roll his eyes.
"Look at it."
I look down and try to see what Harry is seeing. When I hold it up a certain way, it almost reminds me of an—
"Antler. Doesn't it look like a deer's antler?"
"It does..." I agree, shocked that I didn't notice it earlier.
I eagerly look up at the tree for another one but none of them look similar to this one, or have enough smaller branches on them to resemble antlers. We move to the next tree and begin searching for the second branch to complete my pair. Harry moved to a third tree when I finally spot one.
"I found one! Look!" I point at the branch that's a little too far up. Harry comes around and tries to reach up to break it but its too high up even for his height. "The tree looks sturdy, I can climb it," I suggest.
"You'll fall!" Harry argues.
"No I won't," I respond, already setting my first antler down along with my bag. The tree has a wide split in the middle but no matter what I do, I can't lift myself up to it.
"Let me try," Harry offers, but we both know he'll be too heavy and might split one of the branches.
"I got this," I assure him. I hate to say it but I need a boost to place my leg in the crack, but I'm too shy to ask Harry. As if he read my mind, he places his warm hands on my hips and pushes me up. Instantly I'm able to shove my foot in the crack and hoist myself up. "Told you I could do it," I tease, to eradicate any awkwardness. Harry chuckles.
I curse my short arms for being centimetres too short that I can't reach the branch I need. I look down the next closest big branch to me.
"Don't even think about it, you'll surely fall—" Harry begins but I'm already stepping on it and pulling myself up. I feel less steady on this one but now I just need to bend down a little bit and—aha!
I wave the branch victoriously at Harry.
"Okay, get down now," he says quickly. Tossing the branch to the ground, I step back in between the split and prepare to jump down. Harry holds his arms out to me, I shoo him away but he ignores it and keeps them close just to be safe as I jump.
Harry picks up both antlers and hands them to me. "These can represent how environmentally friendly you are," he grins.
---
Harry doesn't like it at the art shop.
Well it's not the art shop he doesn't like, its area we're in. Four times he asked me if I seriously came down here on my own, six times he told me to never come back here without him, especially not at night, and about eleven times he peaked out the window to ensure his Range Rover is still out there.
"Harry," I sigh in frustration at the twelfth time he checks his car, "no one is going to steal your car! Louis' car was just fine and we were in here for longer than forty minutes."
"You came with Louis?" he asks. "Good, don't come here unless Louis or I are with you." I roll my eyes at him. "And Louis' car is a dump, you probably can't even sell it for parts."
"Don't say that," I swat his arm with a sketchbook. "That's mean."
"Sorry," he grins widely. "I don't actually mean that."
I'm glad Zayn isn't in today because he would not have liked Harry at all judging by how he's acting. He would be making snarky comments left and right and a judgemental Zayn would make Harry defensive. I'm not sure what Harry is like when he's defensive but if his attitude is anything like other rich kids, then it would be catastrophic to have him and Zayn in a room. Instead Gloria was at the counter today. I met her once before and she is really sweet. But she talks too much.
"Can I help you choose a sketchbook? You know this one here is—" she says, but I interrupt her.
"Thanks Gloria, but for the third time: I'm okay. If I have a question, I'll ask you," I respond. She nods and sullenly walks back to the counter.
Harry feels bad and starts asking her pointless questions. Eventually, (which was just six minutes later) even he gets sick of her and comes back to me. I was flipping through the sketchbooks. They have a wide variety, ranging from cheap ones with the thin covers, to fancy leather-bound ones. I was looking at the cheaper ones (obviously), choosing between one that had more sheets and another one that had a sturdier cover. I tend to be very rough with my sketchbooks, just because I always like to have it on me, so I was leaning towards the one with the better cover when Harry picked one out.
"Aria, look! This one is perfect for you," he picks one with a leather cover off the shelf. It has an overdone—but still beautiful—stag design on it. I saw that one and liked it, but it was too expensive.
"I saw that one, it's really pretty," I comment, trying to not let my eyes linger on it. I looked back at the two in my hands.
"Why don't you get it?"
"I think I'm gonna go with this one," I say holding up the one in my left hand, and ignoring his question, "it has a stronger cover."
"This one has a leather cover."
"It's probably too heavy," I murmur.
"It's not."
I try not to sigh in frustration.
"It's too expensive," I say sheepishly. Harry frowns and flips the book to look at the price, as if it just occurred to him to check it. I see him blinking at it in a way thats obvious that to him $64 is not a lot of money. Saving us from anymore awkwardness, I spin around and proceed to the cash to purchase my reasonably priced sketchbook.
I take my wallet out when Harry speaks from beside me, "Let me buy this for you."
"What?" I sputter, "No way."
"Please," he pleads. I shake my head not even looking at him and reach to hand my card over to Gloria. Harry stops my hand. "Aria, this one is obviously the nicer one and I know you want it. Just let me buy it for you."
"I'm not a charity case for you to feel bad and buy things for!" I retaliate.
"You know that is not what I think of you," Harry says back just as fiercely. "I just want to get you a gift."
"I never got you any gifts," I lie with a parched throat.
"You can for my birthday. Hey, this could be my birthday present for you!" he exclaims.
"My birthday is in May," I inform him.
"A late birthday present," he shrugs, placing the book in front of Gloria. "We won't take the other one."
I want to fight him more, I want to argue with him and tell him he shouldn't spend his money on me. But for some reason I am unable to. I keep quiet and accept the generous gift he hands me with a charming smile. It's bright enough to coax a small smile of my own. I'm going to get him something really special for Christmas, I decide.
"Thank you," I say to Harry sincerely, when he starts driving (after he triple checked every corner of his car for any goons).
"It's no problem," he answers, rewarding me with another one of his gorgeous smiles.
***
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Please put me down it's just a sprained ankle (Bitch you better put a lot of fluff)
Liam groaned in pain and thumped his head against thebathroom door in frustration. He was sprawled across the damp floor in anawkward pose because he’d lost his footing while getting out of the shower.Apparently, Liam wasn’t training tobe a ballet dancer and fell down into a heap of agony.
The pain was mostly concentrated around his foot and aglance at it confirmed it wasn’t a fracture or anything gruesome because he’spretty sure he’d have passed out at the sight of a bone sticking out.
Little by little, he was able to move his foot around whichdidn’t feel so bad but it was tender like someone had taken a hammer to it.
Now the difficult part was getting up and out with hisdignity intact. He sighed heavily and braced for pain.
They were in their last few legs of the WWA tour and Liamhad gone and sprained his ankle like a proper dolt. He was in the middle ofberating himself mentally when the door knob jiggled and oh, shit what was he gonna tell Zayn?
Being out with Louis always took a load of stress off Zayn’smind and he was feeling loose and happy, probably from laughing too much atLouis’ silly jokes and antics. He needed to catch up with Liam, soon sinceseparation anxiety was still a thing for them. The boys had teased them toomuch but they could talk when Harry and Louis could barely separate from eachother without a goodbye kiss.
He pushed the door open to a delectable sight; Liam wasstood in front of the bed with a towel loose around his hips and skin flushedand damp from a shower. Zayn licked his lips and finally entered the room,catching his boyfriend off guard with a wolf whistle.
Liam huffed at him and gave him an awkward smile. Zayn’s ownsmile fell slightly as he frowned in confusion. Liam was grimacing rather thansmiling at him, his forehead creased in tension and his posture awkward like hewas favouring one side. He quickly looked Liam over but found nothing amiss.
“Hey, you’re back! Listen where did you - ?”
But Zayn cut him off quickly, “Are you alright?” He took inLiam’s wide eyes and caught expression as he rubbed a hand over his face. Allof this was basically a tell that Liam was trying to hide something.
“Babe?” Zayn edged closer with outstretched hands, “What’swrong? You hurt?”
Liam paused for a moment before quickly shaking his headwhile pasting on a passable smile.
Zayn’s eyes narrowed accusingly, “You hesitated.”
Liam rolled his eyes, “Alright Olaf, I hurt my ankle becauseI slipped in the bathroom, you happy?”
“Wha-? Liam! ‘Course I’m not happy. You okay now? How bad isthe pain? Show me!” Zayn turned into a bossy nurse soon enough as he had Liaminclined on the bed, still naked under his towel, with his injured anklepropped up in his boyfriend’s lap.
Liam’s jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth to stifle a cryof pain. Okay, so maybe it did hurt.
Zayn caught his pained expression and quickly whipped outhis cellphone while eyeing Liam, daring him to protest. But Liam had admitteddefeat in the face of pain (Payne, ha) and was completely at the mercy of hisboyfriend’s care.
**
With his ankle all bandaged up, he sat on their shared bedwith a rather sour expression as his boyfriend fluffed his pillows.
Liam huffed irritatedly, “Honestly, Zayn, I’m fine! You’dthink I was dying by the way – “
He was cut off with a sharp look from his boyfriend so hereturned to his silent treatment.
Zayn snorted, “Cute.” He booped Liam’s nose and strode offto order them something to eat. The boys had all taken a piss out of Liam’s‘condition’ and gone off to do whatever the hell they wanted while Liam wasstuck here. Though his saving grace was that he was with his boyfriend; now ifonly said boyfriend could stop being overbearing.
He realized in all the time it took him to fall in thebathroom, get found out by Zayn, have his ankle trapped by a hefty bandage, andbeing tucked in to ‘recover’, he hadn’t used the toilet. And now he had to go.
So inch by inch, he slowly edged off the bed only to bestopped by a dramatic gasp.
“What are you doing?” His boyfriend’s voice rang through theroom.
Liam winced, “I need to use the loo, c’mon let me go inpeace, would you?” Zayn didn’t reply so Liam continued his efforts thinkingthat was all the permission he needed.
But Zayn appeared in front of him and bent down to –
He picked Liam up, bridal style and the man let out a yelpand clutched Zayn’s shoulders in fear of being dropped.
“Zayn, put me down!” He reprimanded his boyfriend but he wasalready being transported to the door of the bathroom and dropped very lightlyonto his good foot.
Zayn was barely panting, looking very proud of himself. Liamrolled his eyes but gave him a grateful kiss before he went off to do hisbusiness.
**
They couldn’t postpone the show, not with Liam’s measlysprain as an excuse to cancel venues and tickets. So with a firm yes, the showwas scheduled as listed.
Zayn had frowned something ferocious at the event managersbut Liam only grasped his hand and whispered, “You’ll take care of me, yeah?”
His boyfriend’s frown had melted away instantly replacedwith a fond smile that made his heart skip a beat. “Yeah, babe always.”
And that was that; but Liam hadn’t anticipated Niall andZayn carrying him out onto the stage, one boy on each side of him, Liam’s armsaround their necks, one leg in each of their arms.
He felt like some sort of showpiece being transported infront of thousands of people.
“Seriously? Put me down! Pleaseput me down it’s just a sprain and oh God everyone’s watching.” His protestswent unheard as the two boys finally came to a stop and perched him ever sogently onto a bench.
“Was that necessary?” Liam demanded, but he was smiling,something about the crowd cheering for him had him in an emotional mood.
Niall shrugged before gesturing towards Zayn with his head,“Ask this one. I only followed your boyfriend’s instructions.”
Liam turned his head to glare at his boyfriend but it was afond expression, he could tell. The other boy was already smiling gently downat him. He leaned in, “I promised Karen, didn’t I? What kind of a futureson-in-law would I be if I broke her only son?”
Zayn stood up straight, smugly taking in Liam’s shockedexpression that quickly turned into a fit of giggles.
“I hate you!” He managed between his laughter. Zayn startedwalking backwards and away from him, to go take his own position as the showfinally started.
“Hate you too, baby!” He called out one last time to Liambefore turning away, both boys suspiciously blushing under the fierce lights.
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Start of Something More
Though I would never admit it, being Harry Styles’ best friend has its perks. For one, I’ve been able to travel the world, see sights most people my age only dream of. I’m incredibly blessed, and it’s only because I have an incredible, gifted friend. Also, because of my one incredible, gifted friend, I’ve made other incredible, gifted friends.
You may have heard of them; they were in a little band called One Direction, which is currently on hiatus as they each branch out and try new things. Because of Harry, I met Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Niall.
They all hold a special place in my heart, Niall especially. Which is why when I told Harry I was going to see one of Niall’s concerts, he winked cheekily at me, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Should I warn the lad to pack a condom or two?”
“Harry!” I smacked his arm, my face coloring. Perhaps telling Harry about my crush on his former bandmate was a bad idea. I trusted Harry with my life and soul, but maybe telling him this was too much. “Niall’s my friend too, I want to support him.” It was true. Over several visits on tours, I had grown close to all of the band members, though Niall most of all. It was why I wanted to surprise him at his concert in London.
Harry waggled his eyebrows at me, and I frowned at him. “Alright, love, make sure you have an excellent time.” He was still teasing me.
I deflated a little, crossing my arms over my chest. “You won’t tell him, will you? I want it to be a surprise, and it won’t be if you rush off and text him the minute I leave.”
“I’ve got better things to do than to text Niall about your plans for him, love,” Harry’s voice was a bit wry, and I sighed out in relief.
“Thank you, Harold. You’re good to me.” I swept my arms around him and held him close, patting his back. I could sense the shit eating grin before I saw it.
“I am, but you better be good to Niall, too, when you see him.” The innuendo was clear in his voice, and I didn’t feel guilty as I hauled back and smacked his arm again, ignoring his pouty whine after the fact.
“Shut up, Styles, and take me to brunch.”
The night of the concert arrived too quickly, and for some reason, I was nervous. I wasn’t sure why, either, since it’s not like I’m the person singing live onstage. Niall didn’t even know that I was coming, and might not even notice me at all, but for some reason I find myself dressing up in a form fitting black dress that goes down to my knees. “You’re dressing up too much for this,” I muttered to myself, but nevertheless, kept the dress on and matched it with some black flats. Like hell I was going to wear heels to a concert; I’m not that extra.
I kept the makeup simple, and pinned my hair back in a bun. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had in my bedroom, and damn, I looked good. Fancy dinner good, not concert good, but it was too late to change, I had to get going if I wanted to get to the venue on time.
Trying not to overthink, I headed out and got into my car, driving towards the venue. I made good time, and even managed to find a halfway decent parking spot. I walked briskly towards the arena, hoping to God that some of the more eagle-eyed fans wouldn’t notice me. I had been in the pop news sites before, and in some of the band’s pictures; heck, I had even received some death threats when rumors were circulating about Harry and I supposedly dating. I didn’t need anything like that to ruin my night.
Once I got situated in my seat (orchestra seating; I did my time waiting for tickets just like every other fan), I sat book and took a quick selfie before posting it on Instagram. I wrote out a quick caption: Excited for the show! And tagged Niall in it. I figured he wouldn’t see it until after the show, anyway; he was probably warming up. Maren was due to start shortly.
Though I wasn’t much of a country fan, I appreciated Maren’s performance and applauded her like everyone else. She was special in her own way; Niall wouldn’t have chosen her otherwise.
Everyone in the arena was a bit of a nervous wreck waiting for Niall to take the stage. The mood was infectious; I could feel my heart pounding a bit faster in my chest, and I kept gnawing at my lip. I was just so excited to see Niall perform his solo material; he deserved the sun and the moon and the stars, this man. I had listened to his album over and over again in preparation for this night, but I was sure that recorded, it wouldn’t do him justice.
The arena lights darkened, and the fans erupted into cheers. Niall strode out onto stage, grinning broadly, his guitar strapped to his chest. “’Ello!” He spoke directly into the microphone, his deep voice resonating throughout the stadium. It made my heart jump into my throat a little. He looked so gorgeous and at ease on the stage, a dark gray, long-sleeve shirt clasping to his body like a glove. For once, he wasn’t wearing a hat, and his dark hair shined a bit in the lighting. “Lovely crowd we’ve got here tonight, London! I’m pleased to see ya all here. And with that bein’ said, let’s get started.”
Niall was pure energy on stage, though in a relaxed way. He constantly engaged with his audience, and crooned his songs like the best of them. Even from my seat, where I stood dancing and swaying with the other fans, I could see the sparkle in his eyes. He loved what he was doing, pure and simple. It was an incredible thing to experience; within the first seconds of his first song, I was swept away into the music.
Towards the end of the show, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned back, startled, only to see a big, burly security guard. “You’ve been requested to come back.”
Heart pounding in my chest, I followed him out of the crowd and towards backstage. There was nothing else I could do at this point in time. “Did Niall send for me?” I asked, a step or two behind the security guard. He nodded his head, but didn’t say anything else. He was probably annoyed at being sent out like that.
He left me close to where Niall was performing, but still off to the wings of the stage, where no one from the audience would see me. Niall paused before his final song, and took a long sip from his water bottle, back turned to the crowd. As he spun around to face them once more, we locked eyes. I felt my lips part at the intensity of his gaze; it felt like he was staring right into you, holding you hostage with his eyes. And then the moment broke and he turned back to his audience. “It’s been an incredible night, London. We’re gonna close it out with a favorite of ours.” He grinned cheekily and then ‘Slow Hands’ began.
I sang along, not able to help it. It was such a sensual song, and a favorite of mine. And Niall got into it, like really into it. There was even a moment where he almost did that crotch-grab he was so fond of in One Direction. But he didn’t do it, even though I was secretly hoping for him too.
Watching him so closely had me feeling all kinds of things. I pressed my thighs together to ease the slight ache that was staring to build up from the sight of him, and mentally cursed myself for my own weakness. Niall doesn’t even like you that way, what are you getting horny for?! I screamed at myself, but it didn’t matter, because Niall wiggled his hips and I was gone. It didn’t help that I had a great view of his little peach bum from backstage.
Niall was hot. That was simple, and I really didn’t need to go much more into it. He had changed physically in the years I had known him; he went from a cute boy to a sexy, handsome man, and I was into it. His shoulders had broadened out, his hips were still slim, and his brunette hair spoke to a certain maturity that hadn’t always been there before. Besides, the guy was confident with himself now – just look at his album cover.
The show ended, and Niall and his band took a bow together, before roaming backstage, directly at me. My heart fluttered in my chest as Niall came straight up to me and wrapped me in those strong arms of his. “Love! Didn’t know you were coming, or else I would have gotten ya better seats!” I felt the scratch of his stubble against my jaw as he pressed a kiss to my cheek and took a step back and smiled at me. “I’ve missed ya.”
Could he see how red my face was? My heart beat was in my ears, but somehow, someway, I still managed to smile at him. “I’ve missed you too, Niall. What an incredible performance!”
“Yeah, it was alright,” he chuckled and scratched at the back of his neck. “Listen, I gotta help the band clean up, but I’ll take you to my dressing room and you can wait for me there, okay? We’ll hang out.”
I nodded my head quickly. “Yeah, of course.” With that being said, Niall offered me his arm, and I tucked mine through his, grinning foolishly as he led me down the hall. He was so goofy; it was why I had fallen for him in the first place.
Niall helped me get comfortable on a plush couch situated in the middle of the dressing room he was given, and then left with a few dozen promises of, “I’ll be back, love!”. I could have sworn I heard him call someone else a wanker as he left the room, his loud cackle echoing back to me.
So. Here I was in Niall’s dressing room. This wasn’t really where I figured the night would go at all; I didn’t think he would know I had been there until after. I should have posted the selfie after the concert, he must have seen it and known I was there because of it.
My mind wandered while I waited, legs crossed and hands clasped on my lap. I hadn’t seen Niall in quite a few months, since my job was centered in London, and Niall spent quite a lot of time in LA. With all of the album promo, he had been going all over the US as well. Not that we didn’t stay in contact; I had his number, he had mine, and in fact, we had talked a few days ago without mentioning his concert.
There was a knock on the door and I jumped, standing up. “Um…come in?”
It was Niall. “Hey,” he said as he popped in, grinning widely.
“Why did you knock for your own dressing room?”
He tilted his head to the side, thinking about it. “Dunno. Wanna come back to my place and have a drink with me?”
That sounded wonderful, actually, and I nodded my head quickly. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Niall led me outside, and side-eyed me as we walked towards the stadium exit. “I’m assuming you drove here, yeah?” When I nodded my head, he stopped. “Well, I’m with the band, so my car is out back. I’ll walk you to yours and give you directions to my place, okay?”
“Oh, Niall, you don’t need to walk me. There will be fans out in the parking lot, and they’ll see you and go mad.” And see me, I added in my head. That wouldn’t bode well for either of us. “Just give me your address and I’ll meet you there, okay?”
Niall mulled it over and nodded his head. “Sounds good, yeah,” he said and I pulled my phone out, allowing him to type his address in. I had been to his London house once or twice, but not recently, so I definitely needed directions. I plugged it into maps, waved at him, and started off towards my car without looking back.
Once I hopped in my car, I followed the directions my mobile told me, and arrived outside of his gate. Luckily, I had heard my phone chime with a text earlier, and as I had guessed, it was the gate key. I pushed it in and drove through the gates, parking out of the way so Niall could get in. At that point, I had beaten him somehow (London traffic was awful, so I was surprised we hadn’t arrived together), so there was nothing for me to do but stare out at his large, two-story house.
It was elegant, and modern, and the landscaping was nice. I didn’t know much about houses, but even I could tell that this was a nice one, and right expensive.
I heard the gates open behind me, and I turned in my seat to watch Niall’s Range drive in seamlessly. I got out, my flats crunching a bit on the gravel driveway. Niall got out as well and grinned that infectious grin of his, and nodded towards his front door. “Come in, would ya?”
I laughed, smiling wide enough that my cheeks hurt. “That’s why I bloody came here, you daft moron.”
“Oi!”
Giggling, I walked up to his front door with him, watching as he unlocked the door. I kicked my shoes off and left them by the door, and watched as he took his own black Chelsea boots and neatly placed them in a row. Then he took my flats and placed them alongside his own. “Still anal as always, I see.”
Niall flashed me a glare, before clicking his tongue. “I invite you to my home, and all you’ve done is insult me so far.”
I shrugged. “You’re easy to insult.”
Barking out a laugh, Niall shook his head, and padded off past the entranceway to the kitchen. “I’m grabbin’ a Stella. Want one?”
“But of course.”
I followed behind him, looking over his house. It was as neat as ever, carefully cleaned. Niall was a bit neurotic about his cleaning, something I discovered on tour. He was meticulously neat compared to the other lads, who were absolute disasters with someone cleaning up after them. Niall cleaned up after himself, kept his clothes neatly folded, and even bothered the others to do the same. Some things didn’t change.
Niall popped the lid off and handed me the bottle, before grabbing one for his own. “How have you been?” He asked, eyes locked on mine as he took a long sip of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing. Leaning against his counter, I updated him on my job and how our mutual social circles were. He listened, letting out a chuckle here and there at the stupidly ridiculous stories I told about our idiot friends. And he kept his eyes on mine the entire time I talked. It was a good feeling.
“It’s good to see you,” I said later as we reclined on his couch, a couple Stella’s in. “Like, really good to see you.”
Niall chuckled, eyes flashing at you from across the couch. You were both leaned against an opposite arm rest, his sock-covered feet bumping and rubbing against your own bare ones. “It’s really great to see you, love. I’ve missed ya.”
“You’ve said that,” I replied, smiling as I bumped my toes against his.
“Well, it’s true. You’re a good friend of mine, and – “ Here he paused and swallowed, eyes looking a bit conflicted. I sat up a bit more, interested in what he was cutting off. I bit at my lower lip, looking at him, my eyes a bit wide.
“And what, Niall?”
He let out a puff of air. “And nothin’. Just missed you.” He tossed a lopsided smile at me and then proceeded to tug at the fringe of his hair with his fingers, taking another sip of his Stella to cut his own sentence off.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Something was definitely off. I lunged forward, pressing myself into his lap, my motions a bit sloppy from how tipsy I was. My face was inches away from his; I could feel his rapid breaths against my cheek as our eyes locked. There was a little alarm bell going off in my head – this was too close, I needed to back off, but I couldn’t do it. There was something delicious in this contact we had, in feeling his thigh pressed against my knee, how close our chests were to touching. How close our lips were to touching. “Alright, Horan, what the fuck is going on in your head?” I demanded, keeping my gaze locked on his.
Niall bit at his lip, which I instantly hated him for, because it only drew my attention down to his very kissable, pink lips. Damn his lips. “Love…ya just don’t understand.”
My eyes narrowed once more. “So make me understand.”
Niall looked away from me at that point, and swallowed harshly. He leaned back a bit away from me, which stung a bit, but he didn’t seemed to have done it to get away. He had a thoughtful face on, his brows furrowed, though he looked a bit stressed at the same time. Finally, Niall looked back at me, his clear blue eyes connecting with mine. “I like you.”
I sat back a bit, falling off of his legs and onto the couch, mostly from the drinks. “Of course you like me. You’re my friend.” Niall huffed out a sigh at my answer and pulled at his hair again, hard enough that I was briefly concerned that he would just yank it all out. He leaned forward, bunching his legs under him, and grabbed at my hand.
“No, you daft moron,” he joked, bringing back my words from earlier, “well, yes, I like you as a friend, but I also like you…more than a friend.”
It felt like my heart had just swelled in my chest and burst. This couldn’t be real. Niall…liked me? Like I liked him? How could this be real life? This was beyond my wildest hopes and dreams. Probably taking my silence as a negative response, he rushed on. “But if you don’t return my feelings, that’s okay, you’ll never hear it again from me and-“
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his own. My hand cupped his jaw, fingers running affectionately against his skin. Niall was frozen for a moment, body tense, but then he relaxed under me, his arms rising up and around me, melding into me. His lips parted slightly, and I was home. That was honestly the way I felt as his lips moved with mine, as he explored me with the vigor I had always hoped for. It was everything.
Moments or hours later, I pulled back, gasping for air with my cheeks aflame. Niall didn’t care, his lips simply reattached themselves to the skin of my neck, an open-mouthed kiss that went straight to my core. A rush of wetness suddenly flooded my panties, and I moaned aloud at the sensation of Niall’s teeth gently nipping at my skin. This man was getting me all riled up, but as I adjusted myself on his lap, I could feel his length starting to fatten up beneath me. Experimentally, I rocked my hips, and listened as Niall let out a quiet grunt in response. “Christ on a bicycle, woman,” he muttered.
I giggled, pleased with the response, even as Niall pushed his hips against mine, needily rutting up into me. My body felt on fire; zips and licks of flame shooting from my toes, up.
“I want you,” I leaned forward to whisper, nipping gently at his ear.
“Fuck, darlin’, I want you to,” Niall replied, his fingers gripping tight into the flesh of my hips. I leaned forward to eagerly press my lips to his, but Niall leaned back away from me. Stung, I settled back away from him. His chest was heaving; he took a few steadying breaths to calm himself. When he looked at me, I could see his pupils had bled into the beautiful blue color of his eyes. “But…I don’t want to do this to ya.”
Confused, I frowned at him. “What do you mean, ‘do this to me’? I quite want it, myself.”
Niall sighed deeply and used both hands to rub at his face, a bit roughly. “I’m only in London for another day or two, and they’re both packed full of interviews and promo. I don’t think I can hang out with you, and I don’t want to fuck you and send you off with a ‘see ya later’. And we’ve both had a bit to drink, I don’t want ya to regret this. I want to do this properly, petal. I want to take you out on dates, kiss you in the moonlight, cuddle on the couch…but I can’t do that yet.”
Understanding lit through me, and for some reason, it made my eyes water. I sniffled and leaned away. Niall practically flinched at the sight of my tears. “Oh, no, please don’t cry! I want you, I promise I do!”
“It’s not that,” I hiccupped. Definitely too much to drink. “You’re just so…so sweet, and I can’t handle it!”
Niall let out a deep chuckle at my explanation, and I felt the rough palm of his hand curl against my cheek. My eyes closed, and I savored the feeling of his touch on my skin. “Okay. When I come back, love, will you go out on a proper date with me?”
My eyes flew open. “Of course! Niall, I nearly fucked you on the couch a minute ago, I’m not about to turn down a date.”
A loud bark of a laugh worked its way out of his chest, and Niall’s head tipped back in pure mirth. I let out a laugh of my own, thrilled to chase such a reaction out of him. Not that it was hard; Niall laughed easily and frequently, even at himself. Especially at himself.
“Proper date it is, then,” Niall chuckled out and I nodded, smiling widely with glee.
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his scratchy cheek. “It’s a good thing I came to your concert. It feels like this is the start of something more, y’know?”
Niall’s responding smile was soft, his eyes crinkling a bit at the edges. His pupils had returned to their normal state; there was that beautiful, clear blue I loved. “I have to agree.”
#niall horan#niall#niall horan one shot#niall one shot#1dff#fluff#niall horan fluff#niall fluff#imagine#niall horan imagine#niall imagine#blurb#niall horan blurb#niall blurb
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Blinded by the Sun
Harry Styles/Nick Grimshaw Ficlet
Another one of my Saturday Shorts (or more accurately now Sunday Shorts) for the anon prompt: Gryles unresolved sexual tension annoying everyone around them but they're all "Oh no we don't have any tension Aimee I have no idea what's you're talking about !"
Here’s ‘Blinded by the Sun’, anon. Also inspired by 2017 Mallorca Gryles and clique holiday activities. No content warnings, rating is mature but only just. Pretty much just fluff and humour.
Blinded by the Sun
Aimee
Nick can’t understand what all the fuss is about. He’s just trying to relax and enjoy himself and his friends – terrible, awful people – keep banging on about Harry this and Harry that, like Nick’s in love with him or something.
“You two.” Aimee points a long, acrylic nail at Harry and Nick. “You two are awful.”
“He’s awful.” Nick pokes Harry’s dimple and ruffles his hair which earns him a disgruntled look.
“Don’t make that ugly face, Harold. What if the wind changes and you end up like that for good?”
“Piss off, Grim.” Harry laughs and moves out of reach of Nick’s jabby fingers. He picks up his drink and sucks thoughtfully on his straw, giving Nick the up and down. He releases the straw with a pop.
“I do alright. Some people like this face.”
“I didn’t know.” Nick clasps his hand to his chest and he lets out a gasp of mock surprise. “International pop star and multi-millionaire movie star Henry Stars has fans?”
“You’re terrible, you.” Harry’s smiling around his straw and he doesn’t look like he thinks Nick’s terrible. Terribly funny, maybe.
Nick grins at Harry and gives him a wink. He puts his sunglasses on and takes the opportunity to watch a fit twenty-something blond saunter over to the pool in bright swimming trunks which leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“You know if you move your head we can still see you looking?” Harry points out, helpful soul that he is.
“Not bothered who can see me. You’ll see me talking to him in a minute.” Maybe five minutes. Nick’s quite comfy stretched out lazily next to Harry who smells like coconut suntan oil and keeps plying Nick with more cocktails. He can’t be arsed to get up even if it means he misses out on a shag or a quick blowjob. He’s currently commandeered two chairs and he’s fairly sure he’s going to lose the second if he goes anywhere. He doesn’t want to sit in the sun without his legs up. It makes his knees tan weird.
“Maybe I’ll talk to someone too,” Harry says.
“Sun lounger three rows back. Purple towel, Dolce sunnies and a Louis Vuitton shopper. Eating something kale based. Reckon she’s your sort. Looks a bit model-y.” Nick yawns and tips his face back into the sun. “If you’re interested.”
Harry hands Nick another cocktail and Nick can practically hear him shrugging. “Might go over in a bit.”
“Awful.” Aimee says again and Nick gives her the finger.
Gillian
“You’re such an idiot.” Gellz often calls Nick an idiot. She’s very sweet and says lovely things to him when he’s feeling crap but the rest of the time it’s really no-holds-barred.
“Bit rude.” Nick’s used to it by now. He fiddles with the collar of his shirt and decides to undo another button. He’s on his holidays after all. He wants to show off as much of his tan as possible. “Why am I an idiot this time?”
“Harry,” Gillian says. “Also, put your nipples away nobody wants to see them over their Paella. Except for Harry.”
Nick glares. “Not you too.”
“Years.” Gillian’s voice sounds a bit strangled. “How much longer are you going to keep doing this? I’ve seen you with people. Seen him with people. Seen you together.”
“A proper Mystic Meg, you.” Nick rolls his eyes. “Better get you a crystal ball and a broom or summat.”
“Mystic Meg doesn’t have a broom you bloody-” Gellz stops talking. It sounds like she’s counting to ten, but longer. Nick has been reliably informed that sometimes people have to count to twenty when he’s being particularly annoying. Obviously one of those times. “Harry. We’re talking about Harry. Because we’ve discussed it-”
“We?” Nick stops arranging his necklaces artfully in his chest hair.
“All of us.” Gillian waves her hand and thank fuck, that means nobody’s been on at Harry about this. “We’ve discussed it and we agree it’s painful watching you pair of twats refusing to see what’s right there under your noses.”
Nick finishes fiddling with his hair. His quiff looks spectacular tonight, even if he does say so himself. “Might be easier to see it if you gave us a loan of that crystal ball of yours,” Nick says.
Gellz responds with an argh of frustration and slams the door as she leaves.
Pixie
Nick finds himself sandwiched between Harry and Pixie as he takes a little bit of everything on the table. He likes lots of choice when he’s eating. He’s the sort to order four starters and no main. Nothing is more unappetising to Nick than massive bowl of the same, boring dish.
“Didn’t get any of the tortilla.” Harry looks around, a frown marring his perfectly average features. “I’m not happy about it.” He sounds fairly relaxed all things considered.
“Here.” Nick spears a mouthful with his fork and offers it to Harry who, instead of taking the fork like a normal person, lets Nick feed him in front of everyone and gives him a look that’s had stronger people than Nick chucking off their clothes and climbing into Harry’s bed before. Nick clears his throat and Pixie splutters next to him. “Careful, darling.” He pats her on the back a bit too hard. “Wouldn’t want to choke.”
“I didn’t get any tortilla either.” Pixie glances at Nick and she looks as though she’s about to start something.
“Better ask the chef to make you some more, then.” Nick polishes off the rest of his tortilla and earns himself a glare. “Pass us the wine, love.”
Two bottles appear in front of Nick, one white wine from Pixie and one red wine from Harry who apparently now answers to love.
“Rosé. My favourite.” Nick pours a splash of both into the same glass to avoid offending either of the monsters sitting next to him. If feels like that sort of evening.
“I want a photo,” Pixie announces. She holds up her polaroid camera and gestures to Nick and Harry. “This one’s just for me. No social media.”
Nick rolls his eyes. Does she expect them to kiss or something? He pushes Harry’s mouth up at the corners and grins at him. “Say cheeeese.”
“You’re disgusting,” Pixie says.
When Nick looks at himself making googly-eyes at Harry as the polaroid starts to develop, he has to agree.
Ian
“I don’t understand.” Ian looks over at Harry, currently making his way through the bar with a precariously balanced tray of shots. “I don’t understand why you’ve never gone there.”
“Excuse me, Ian. I’m not that kind of boy.”
Ian looks as if he’d rather be doing a celebrity dot-to-dot puzzle or colouring in or something instead of having to shout over the loud music to make himself heard.
“You’re exactly that kind of boy, Grim.” Ian shakes his head when Harry offers him a shot. “Just like Harry.”
“Pfft.” Nick rolls his eyes. It’s getting a bit much this constant insinuation that he and Harry are something, when it should be perfectly obvious they’re just good friends. Great friends. The best friends.
“What’s just like Harry?” Harry flops into the seat next to Nick and hands him a shot.
“Ian’s besmirching our good names. Calling us both slags.”
“Hey.” Harry frowns at Ian. “That’s not very nice.”
“Exactly what I said.” Nick gives Ian a smug look and points to the pin he wears whenever there aren’t too many people from the press about. The one Harry gave him. The one that’s been all over the world on Harry’s guitar strap and everything. Nick can practically smell the scent of rock star on it. “Take a leaf out of young Harry’s book. Treat people with kindness.”
“I’ll try to remember.” Ian rolls his eyes.
Nick takes the shot Harry hands him. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Harry stills Nick’s arm before he can down the shot. “Let’s do that thing where you link arms and drink at the same time. Like New Year’s.”
“I’ve never done that on New Year’s in my life.” Nick obliges anyway, linking his arm with Harry’s. On the count of three, they throw back their shots. The alcohol makes Nick a bit giggly and he hauls Harry closer ignoring the looks he’s getting. “Do the next one off your bellybutton if you like.”
“Sick,” Harry says.
Ian groans beside them.
Alexa
“I’m dying.” Nick’s fond of a dramatic statement and he really does feel deathly. The sun’s too hot, he’s got sunburn on his nose and his head’s pounding from too many shots and the terrible decision to mix white and red wine together. He can vaguely remember dancing to something with Harry and nearly getting a flailing limb in his face. He thinks it might have bruised his cheek.
“Have another cocktail.” Alexa isn’t one to suffer through Nick’s whining. She hands Nick a bottle of water which he drinks gratefully. “Where’s Harry?”
“Still sleeping.” Nick pulls his towel over his head. It smells like chlorine. “I left him to it.”
Alexa clears her throat. “Excuse me?”
Nick pulls the towel off his head and glares at her – the impact probably marred by his sunglasses. “It’s not like that.”
“I don’t see you sharing beds with any of us.” Alexa props herself up on her elbow. She loves a gossip. “Did it happen? Was it good?”
Nick stares. “Did what happen? We raided the mini-bar and he fell asleep with his socks on. Feet right in my face.”
“Oh.” Alexa looks disappointed. “Well, there’s always tonight.”
“Not happening,” Nick says. “Absolutely, categorically, one hundred percent-”
“Morning,” Harry says. He sounds far too cheerful considering he matched Nick drink for drink. He pulls over a sun lounger and arranges it next to Nick’s. His fingers are fucking freezing against Nick’s chest and it’s not Nick’s fault if he lets out a very manly screech at the touch.
“Get off. I’m dying over here.”
“You’re going to burn.” Harry’s very serious about skincare. “Turn over, I’ll get your shoulders.”
Nick obliges and pretends he doesn’t hear Alexa snickering as Harry’s talented fingers work out the knots in his muscles and rub suntan lotion onto Nick’s back for far longer than is probably necessary.
Harry
Nick’s a couple of wines in when he decides to tell Harry everyone thinks they’re shagging.
“They won’t stop going on about it.” He takes a mouthful of his food and speaks around it even though that’s gross and he hates when other people do it. “Isn’t that stupid?”
Harry makes an mmhmm sound and tops up the wine. ��Stupid.”
“That’s what I said. We’re friends on holiday. Two lads together.” Nick swallows the last of his food and wipes his lips with a napkin. He’s not at his most laddy admittedly, in a silk shirt with a bit of lace detailing. Still, that’s not the point.
“Lads, lads, lads.” Harry agrees. He high-fives Nick but does the thing where he just holds on for a bit, his fingers sliding through Nick’s. “Should be watching the footie.”
“Should be,” Nick agrees. Harry’s still holding his hand. “I’ve told them all, they’re bloody mental. Annoying, too.”
“I bet.” Harry’s closer now and his fingers squeeze Nick’s hand. “They know what we’re like. Just friends having a laugh.”
“Yeah.” Nick’s voice sounds more gravelly than usual and Harry’s breath is warm on his cheek. He smells like cheap white wine and vanilla ice-cream. “Just Grimmy and Harry Styles.”
Harry smiles and it does something peculiar to Nick’s heart. The kiss probably isn’t wholly unexpected. Harry’s been holding his hand for ages after all and he’s doing that thing where he looks very intent on something, very serious. Very much a I’m looking at your lips because I’d quite like to kiss you now moment.
Nick kisses Harry back. It’s unexpected, how it crashes over him. Overwhelming how they grapple with clothing and thank fuck this was a private meal on the balcony of Nick’s room overlooking the sea in a not at all romantic just good mates setting. Thank fuck they’re not in a restaurant or somewhere Nick can’t yank open Harry’s shirt and taste his skin. Everything is hot. The filthy, open-mouthed kisses. The slide of Harry’s tongue against Nick’s. Harry’s skin, the heavy weight of him in Nick’s palm and the last remnants of the setting sun on the rough wooden slats. They don’t even make it to the bed. They just roll out by the pool, fists wrapped around each other and lips fused together.
They finish on their backs, chests rising and falling with the gentle breeze. The night sky is blanketed with stars and the moon casts a silvery light on them. Nick can hear the lap, lap of the sea as small waves crash on the sand and the tide ebbs and flows.
Harry’s fingers find Nick’s as if he wants to stay connected. “They’re going to think we’re even more awful now,” Harry says. He sounds like he’s smiling.
Nick laughs and closes his eyes. “Yeah. I reckon they will. Might keep them guessing for a bit longer. Keep you all to myself for a bit.”
Harry rolls over, looking down at Nick. “You’re going to have them counting to twenty again.”
Nick shrugs. “Shouldn’t be so nosy then, should they?”
“Never did that shot off my bellybutton.” Harry plays with Nick’s necklaces, his fingers moving over the key Nick always wears around his neck. Nick suspects Harry’s a couple of sentences away from making an appalling key to my heart joke.
“What are we waiting for?” Nick nudges Harry away. “Get the tequila, Styles. I want you naked, salt on your nipples - not all four of them, mind - and lime in your mouth.”
Harry snorts with laughter and it should be unattractive but it’s not in the slightest. “Whatever you say, Grim.”
They do the shots and the rest and tell everyone the next day they fell asleep early after too much booze by the pool.
Nobody believes them.
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I’ll Make This Feel Like Home
i saw this post and just had to write something. enjoy some soft kleinsen and a ridiculous amount of one direction references. by @neglectedrainbow. AO3 Link.
Evan is sitting on Jared’s bed, watching as the lights outside his window dim. What isn’t lessening, though, is the sheer amount of noise that’s clattering around the room. Jared’s mother has left to attend some sort of late business dinner, and Jared’s sister has left to attend a sleepover, leaving the two boys alone in the Kleinman household. Jared has apparently taken this opportunity of solitude to begin blasting music as loud as he possibly can.
Considering that his only speaker is a laptop, Evan’s rather impressed at the immense volume of it all. Most of the noise, he thinks, isn’t actually from the speakers, but rather from Jared himself.
He’s hopping around the room, glasses askew, dressed in his dark blue flannel pajamas. He pauses, for a moment, throwing his head back, whipping his hair about, yelling with a clear finality, “And that’s what makes you beautiful!” The music dims, only to begin again, a new song now, moments later.
Jared’s smiling like a maniac, the little gap in his front teeth on full display. Evan can’t help but grin back at him, his heart filling with fondness as Jared begins to sing again. “I’ve tried playing it cool, but when I’m looking at you,” he points at Evan and begins to hop from side to side, “I can’t ever be brave, ‘cause you make my heart race.”
He reaches out to Evan, snatching his hand and pulling him to his feet. “So! Get out, get out, get out of my head, and fall into my arms instead! I don’t, I don’t, don’t know what it is, but you got that one thing!”
Jared wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, still swaying to the beat, his hot skin like a burning furnace against Evan's. Jared repeats the chorus, still singing slightly too loudly to be strictly considered polite, but Evan doesn’t mind. “So! Get out, get out, get out of my head, and fall into my arms instead!”
Evan smiles, brushing his nose against Jared’s for a moment, “I’m already in your arms, you goof.”
The other boy pulls back, cackling out a loud laugh, “Wow, Evan, I didn’t know you could be so smooth.” His eyes glimmer behind layers upon layers of affection.
The song ends. Jared dives over to the computer, scrolling to choose another song. “Hmm…” He turns to Evan, “Any preferences? Which album?”
Evan pauses for a moment, before deciding, “The last one, please.”
“Hey!” Jared huffs, frowning. “It’s not ‘the last one’; it’s the most recent one. ‘Cause they’re coming back. I don’t know when, I don’t know where, but it’s happening.”
Evan holds up his hands in mock surrender.
Jared rolls his eyes jokily, “Connor’s always talking about how revolutionary Four is. Which, of course, I totally agree with, I’m just more of a Take Me Home guy myself. Or Up All Night, because let’s be honest, that album is jam after jam after jam. And Zoe's always talking about her love of Midnight Memories, but you… You and Alana, I knew you two would like Made in the A.M. the most.” He smiles, “And, of course, anytime ‘If I Could Fly’ plays, you get all teary.”
“It’s a beautiful song,” Evan replies, in his defense. He pauses. “Who wrote that one again?”
“Harry.”
“That’s the one with the new album, right? In the pink bathtub?”
Jared nods, finally locating the song. “Exactly.”
Evan distinctly remembers Jared forcing him to stay up for the midnight release of that album. And Jared pretending not to cry the entire time. And, so, okay, Evan got a little teary too, because seeing Jared emotional makes him emotional. And, also, to be completely honest, Evan is kind of obsessed with "Sign of the Times".
The speakers croon, “If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you. I think I might give up everything, just ask me to.”
Jared stands up, reaching out, his fingertips brushing lightly over the back of Evan’s hand. Evan moves forward, bending down slightly to be level with his boyfriend, resting his hands on Jared’s plush hips. They sway lightly, sweet harmonies filling the air. Jared whispers the lyrics into Evan’s ear, his voice low and rich. “Pay attention, I hope that you listen, ‘cause I let my guard down. Right now I’m completely defenseless… For you eyes only, I show you my heart. For when you’re lonely, and forget who you are...”
Evan presses closer, his head on Jared’s shoulder, finishing the lyric, “I’m missing half of me, when we’re apart. Now you know me, for your eyes only…”
The other boy grins, “You do know the words!”
Evan nods, and Jared pulls back, excitement brilliant across his face. “Yes! My plan! It’s worked!” He raises a single eyebrow, his expression forming into one of great seriousness. “So, now that you’re officially a One Direction fanatic, who’s your favorite member? I know you’re not supposed to have a favorite, but…”
Evan’s smiling again, too, grinning at his ridiculous boyfriend. “I don’t know enough about them to have a favorite yet.”
Jared looks affronted for a solid ten seconds. “We’re gonna have to fix that ASAP.” His expression softens, “Your favorite is gonna be...Harry. Or Niall. Or 2012 Liam. I’m more of a Louis guy myself, but Harry’s the right kind of spunky for you, and Niall’s just so...Niall.”
He starts bouncing with excitement again, and Evan’s heart stutters, filling up with endearment. “Connor’s favorite is Zayn. I think he skipped school the day he left, was just so devastated. I mean, he always skips school anyway, but that was like… You know...” Evan doesn’t, not really, but he nods along sympathetically.
Suddenly, a new chord erupts through the speakers, a new song beginning, making them both jump in surprise. Jared pumps a fist in the air. “Evan! Evan! It’s our song! Evan, this is literally our song.” He pulls Evan in again, and they begin to dance.
Evan’s coordination is frankly nonexistent, so it’s a bit of a disaster, the dancing, but they manage to push through it. Jared doesn’t even flinch when Evan steps on his toes anymore, and Evan's stopped apologize twenty-seven times every time it happens.
At least they know how to keep a steady rhythm and follow a beat, he supposes.
Jared places one hand on the back of his boyfriend’s head, threading his fingers lightly through Evan’s hair, singing. “I was stumbling, looking in the dark. With an empty heart. But you say you feel the same… Could we ever be enough? Baby, we could be enough.”
Evan swallows, watching the overhead light flicker shadows across Jared’s face, taking in the depth of his eyes. They’re a light teal, soothing like the ocean, with one section of deep brown, glimmering like a stain glass window.
Jared leans in, his breath warm on Evan’s skin.
They’re so close.
It's good. It's all so good.
“And it’s alright,” he whispers, tightening his hands on Evan’s waist. “Calling out for somebody to hold tonight. When you’re lost, I’ll find the way, I’ll be your light.” He glances up, their gazes connecting. “You’ll never feel like you’re alone… I’ll make this feel like home.”
Evan kisses him, then, his hands on Jared’s hips, standing in the middle of Jared’s room, warm light shining over their embrace.
The sun sets softly outside the window.
#i'm just#i had to write this#soft kleinsen#kleinsen#rousseau posts#jansen#the jansen blog#fic#fanfic#our fic#my fic#my fanfic#jaredxevan#evanxjared#jared x evan#evan x jared#jared/evan#evan/jared#jared kleinman/evan hansen#evan hansen/jared kleinman#the kleinsen blog#kleinsen fic#kleinsen fanfic#jansen fic#jansen fanfic#deh#dearevanhansen#dear evan hansen#long post#one shot
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