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When Niall wakes up, the first thing that greets him is a pounding headache. A groan slips past chapped lips as he pulls himself up – fingers pressed firmly to his temples and covers pooling at his waist – blue eyes blinking open to take in the room with blurry eyes. Light shines through the window, tinted grey by morning fog.
He swings out of bed, shivering when his feet touch the cold, wood floor - London is known for it’s gloomy weather, even in the summer. He pulls sweats over his boxers, movements sluggish, before he makes his way down the hall.
There are noises coming from the kitchen – clanging and simmering and a quiet humming – and he thinks it might be Zayn since the brunette has taken to sleeping over at his flat lately.
(The older boy doesn’t like living alone and Niall doesn’t mind the company so it’s not uncommon that Zayn stays the night.)
It’s a pleasant surprise to find Harry there instead, all lean muscle and no shirt as he stands over the stove, spatula in hand. He’s got bacon and eggs going on the burners, toast already buttered and set on the counter.
“How drunk did I get last night? ‘Head’s killin’ me.” Niall moans, trudging his way to the cupboard, hands clumsy as he searches for the Tylenol. He heaves out a sigh (which actually hurts his head even more, but he thinks it’s worth it to let the universe know how annoyed he is) when he comes up empty.
“Here, try these.” Harry pulls a bottle from the drawer by the sink, pops out two lavender colored pills and hands them to the blonde. “They work great.”
Niall doesn’t hesitate – not even wondering how they got in his drawer; his head hurts so bad – before swallowing them dry. A sigh escapes his lips as he leans over the counter, fingertips massaging into his temples. He pops open an eye and watches Harry as he turns the bacon, green eyes focused.
He manages a smile, the pounding in his head diminishing to a low throb, and pops a hip against the counter. “Did you sleep here last night?”
“Yeah,” Harry mumbles, adding salt to the eggs, “crashed in your guestroom. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”
Niall’s got a teasing grin on his face when he takes a piece of toast (glad to see that Harry’s buttered it the way he likes – evenly spread and touching all the sides). “What, have a fight with Lou?”
“Naw,” Harry laughs, dishing up the food, “he just stayed over at El’s last night.” He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like being alone.”
“Yeah, Zayn’s like that too. Bit surprised he’s not here, really,” Niall sighs, licking the butter off the tips of his fingers and following Harry to the table.
There’s a glass of juice waiting for him and he downs it in one gulp.
Harry’s looking at his plate when he asks, “So, how much do you remember?” He glances up, dark lashes fluttering. “About last night, I mean.”
Niall hums as he thinks, chewing slowly. “Not much actually. It’s all pretty fuzzy.” He chuckles as he taps at his head. “I must have gotten pretty pissed, huh?”
“Yeah,” Harry answers, giving him a fond smile, a far off, reminiscent look swimming in green eyes. (Niall pauses at the expression, worried. He thinks that maybe something did happen between Harry and Louis last night, but doesn’t want to bring it up.) “Do you want to stay in? Have a movie day?”
Niall swallows a mouthful of eggs, brow cocked. “Don’t we have an interview today?”
Harry shakes his head, curls bouncing easily around his face. “Nope. It was cancelled.”
“Okay, sure,” Niall agrees, smiling as Harry gathers their dishes and heads over to the sink. Niall knows he shouldn’t – friends don’t usually eye each other up – but can’t help it when his eyes slip down Harry’s back, watching the muscles ripple under his skin. He ducks his head and hopes the other boy doesn’t see his blush.
“I’ll go pick out a movie. You get to clean the dishes,” Harry teases.
“Hey, no fair!” Niall protests.
“I cooked,” Harry shrugs, smiling and edging out of the kitchen. “Seems pretty fair to me.” He bounces out the door, laughing and leaving the blonde to clean up the mess.
Niall eyes the sink distastefully, squirting some soap and running the water for a good minute before giving up – he’ll do them later.
He pads his way to the entryway to pick up his phone (he wants to text Zayn – ask him if anything happened between Louis and Harry) and is surprised too see that it’s not where he always leaves it – plugged in on the table beside his keys.
Turning on his heels, he strolls into the living room. “Hey, have you seen my phone? It’s not on the table.”
Harry peers up from where he’s looking at Niall’s movies (it’s a rather vast collection). “No, why? You wanna call someone?”
“Oh, um, I just wanted to invite the boys over for the movie,” Niall covers quickly, voice tapering off as he casts an eye around the room. “Did you rearrange my living room?”
“Yeah, do you like it?” Harry asks, popping in a movie and flopping back onto the couch with a smile that has his dimples on full display.
Niall just shakes his head and jumps up beside him, a low chuckles slipping past his lips. “You’re such a weirdo.” He pokes Harry in the cheek, delighted when Harry laughs along with him. “Who moves around someone else’s furniture?”
Harry just sticks his tongue out, long fingers tickling along the blonde’s side (Niall refuses to admit that he giggles) as he whips out his phone. “I’ll give Liam a call, see if anyone’s busy.”
Niall nods before starting the movie, cheeks flushed from laughing. Ghostbusters (a classic and a favorite of his) starts playing and Niall doesn’t even notice when he worms his way under Harry’s arm. A blush dusts his cheeks as he glances up at the brunette to see if he minds. Harry’s got his phone pressed to his ear but gives Niall a wink when he catches him looking.
Niall takes the opportunity to snuggle further into Harry’s side, feet tucked up onto the cushions beside him and knees knocking against the other boy’s legs as he adjusts. He can’t help the full-blown smile that blossoms onto his face when Harry wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer.
“Liam says he and the boys will be over ‘bout noon. They’ll bring food,” Harry whispers, nuzzling his nose into Niall’s hair. (The blonde thinks that even his toes might be flushing red and stares resolutely downward.)
“Did they say what kind of food?”
“No,” Harry chuckles, “I didn’t ask.” He leans back into the couch, grinning amusedly at the blonde who’s still a bit pink in the cheeks when he looks up to meet his eyes.
“Why not?” he pouts.
“Do you want me to call back and ask?” Harry teases, lifting a brow and tilting his head (the light catches every shade of green in his eyes and Niall nearly forgets how to speak; they’re amazing.)
“No,” Niall huffs, flipping back around to watch the movie. If he happens to dig an elbow into the brunette’s side, it’s merely a coincidence.
By the time the movie’s over, Niall’s paid more attention to Harry’s abs than the screen (really, if Harry’s going to insist on sitting around topless then he’s just going to have to deal with Niall’s wandering eyes). They’re just finishing making popcorn – Harry’s already got a few kernels caught in his hair, courtesy of Niall – when the others show up.
“We brought Nando’s!” Zayn sings, swinging the bag onto the counter, arms already open to accept the hug Niall throws his way.
The blonde’s got one arm wrapped around Zayn’s thin waist and the other rooting through the bag, teeth on full display as he beams at his friends. “Thanks guys, you’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Louis teases as he grabs them all plates.
Niall laughs but goes quiet when he sees how tense Harry is beside him, green eyes locks on Louis. Liam and Zayn are quiet too.
“Guys?” Niall questions, unsure of the tension in the room. Harry’s gaze cuts to him before his shoulders go slack and he’s grabbing the bag from Niall.
“Uh, use the paper plates instead, Lou,” Harry mumbles and Niall shrugs it off – everyone seems normal again.
“So, how had your day been, Nialler?” Liam asks, popping some chicken from the takeaway into his mouth and smiling kindly at the blonde.
“’Salright.” Niall shrugs, following Liam’s lead and picking at the food. “Woke up with a killer hangover. Can’t believe you let me drink that much.” Niall grins, nudging Liam in the ribs.
Liam smiles at him, eyes squinting shut affectionately, as he runs a careful hand through messy blonde hair. “Did you take something for it?”
“Yeah,” Niall practically purrs as Liam massages at the base of his neck. “Harry gave me something. Worked like a charm.” Niall glances up from under his lashes, gaze finding the curly haired boy and a flush overtaking his cheeks once again – Harry’s still shirtless.
Liam follows his gaze, brown eyes glancing between the two boys before he flicks a carrot into Harry’s curls. “Hey, Styles, go put on some clothes, would you? Have some decency.”
Harry pulls a face, tongue poking out from between red lips, before sauntering out of the room.
Louis shoves a plate of curry into Niall’s hands, the blonde murmuring a quick thanks before leading them into the living room. They sprawl, all long limbs and light hearted banter, over the couch and armchairs and Niall’s already scraping his plate clean when blue eyes glance inquisitively at Louis’ hair.
“Liking the haircut, Lou,” he compliments.
“Thanks, blondie. Just got it done this morning,” he slurs around the food in his mouth. He runs a subconscious hand through his hair.
“Just in time for the tour, eh?” Niall asks, tugging at a lock of his own hair, wondering if it’s time for a cut. “Can’t believe we’re going to America. Think it’ll all be okay?”
“They’re gonna love us, Nialler. Don’t worry about it,” Liam assures, knocking an elbow into the shorter boy’s knee.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Niall concedes. “Hope we have time to go to Disney World while we’re there.”
“There’ll be plenty of time,” Zayn says around a mouthful of chicken.
“Hear that? We’re going to Disney World,” Niall laughs, socked foot nudging at Liam’s shoulder.
“Speaking of Disney,” Harry says, joining them in the living room. He’s got on a plain white shirt that Niall thinks looks just as good on him as it had off. “How about a movie?”
They settle on Finding Nemo – Niall pretending it’s not incredibly dorky when they all take turns reciting the dialogue – and end up flinging bits of popcorn and steamed veggies at each other. Liam, the instigator of the food flinging, ends up apologizing and picking it all up – even with Niall telling him to just leave it. (He’s probably laughing too hard for Liam to understand him anyway.)
At some point the movie ends and is switched out for The Matrix, but no one’s really watching any more. Niall, tucked into Harry’s side and feeling quite lethargic (his headache’s starting to come back), is doing little more than listening to his friends talk when Liam stands up.
“I have to get going,” Liam says, twisting and stretching his back. “I’m supposed to meet Dani for dinner.”
“I should go too,” Louis adds, “El’s coming over.”
“Poor Harry,” Niall laughs. “He’s never gonna be able to go home, is he?”
“You don’t mind being stuck with me, right?” Harry asks, roughing up blonde hair with a grin, chuckling when Niall squirms out from under his arm, pouting at him from the other end of the couch. A tongue pokes out from pink lips.
“I suppose you can stay,” he smiles, unable to hold it back. “Until I get sick of you, at least.”
Harry responds by pulling him back into his side, a chuckle vibrating his chest and echoing in Niall’s ribs.
“What about you, Zayn?” Niall asks, blue eyes peering around Harry.
“I have to meet Perrie in an hour,” he answers off handedly, more focused on his phone than anything else.
Niall quirks a brow, lips twisting in confusion. “Who?”
Zayn’s attention snaps back to the room. “Just a girl I met. I’m taking her out,” he admits, coffee colored eyes dancing nervously around the room. He slips his phone in his pocket and gathers his things to leave. “I’ll see you guys later.”
The door closes swiftly behind him and Niall looks quizzically at the others. “Was that weird for anyone else?”
Harry runs a calm hand through Niall’s hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp and drawing blue eyes back to his own. “He’s just nervous for his date. Don’t worry about it.”
Louis and Liam leave and then it’s just Niall and Harry curled up on the couch together, the menu screen running on repeat in the background.
“What do you wanna do now?” Harry asks, close enough so that his breath runs down Niall’s neck, the sensation making his spine tingle. “Continue our movie day or something else?”
“Mm,” Niall hums (Harry’s fingers are working at his scalp again and talking seems like a lot of effort), “my head hurts again. Maybe it’s all the tele?” Harry massages down his neck, fingers pushing at the knots formed there before pulling away. Niall feels entirely too cold without him.
“I’ll get you something.” He slips out of the room, coming back with more pills, a glass of water, and some left over takeaway. “You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach.”
Niall throws back the pills and downs the water before reaching for the food, smiling at Harry as he takes it from the taller boy’s hand. “Thanks.” He doesn’t think as he leans in and kisses Harry on the lips, blue eyes wide in shock as he snaps back, voice squeaking as he whispers, “Oh god, I’m – I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t know why I did that.”
He can’t see Harry (he’s got his hands covering his face in shame) when the younger boy laughs, and he swears his heart’s stopped – he’s ruined everything.
“Don’t be sorry, Nialler.” Harry crouches down, chin resting on the blonde’s knees and hands gripping at thin wrists so as to see his face. “I wouldn’t complain if you were to do it again.”
“wha – really?” Niall stutters. He looks hesitantly into Harry’s eyes and is surprised by how happy the other boy looks.
“Of course really,” Harry singsongs as he takes a hold of Niall’s chin, leveling him with a look the blonde can’t quite understand. “I like you.”
“I like you too.” The words tumble easily off his lips, his cheeks blushing a deep crimson. “For a long while now, actually.”
Harry grins, shifting so his face is hovering inches from Niall’s. “So you wanna try that again?” There’s a teasing, lilting tone to his voice that makes Niall’s heart drop to his knees and his stomach twist. He nods, a quiet whine breaking in his throat.
Their lips meet in the middle. The kiss is sweet – gentle and breathy and sticky in a way that Niall can’t get enough of. He sighs when Harry licks his way into his mouth. Fingers grip at his neck, pushing and angling his head so their lips slot together and Niall can’t help the throaty moan that vibrates off his own tongue and onto Harry’s.
There are hands gripping onto hips and fingers pulling on hair and Niall isn’t entirely sure whose tongue is whose, but he knows that kissing Harry is just about the best thing he’s ever done. He pushes impossibly closer, hands clinging to broad shoulders and legs tangling together.
Niall tries to follow when Harry pulls back, lips popping wetly apart, the curly haired boy nosing his way into the crook of Niall’s neck. The breath ghosting across his collarbone tickles, but the blonde is too dazed to take proper not of it.
They spend a long while just lounging on the couch, fingers working smoothly down sides and exchanging languid kisses. Niall doesn’t even touch his food, his lips otherwise occupied.
“Does this make you my boyfriend?” Niall asks, toes wiggling between Harry’s thighs. Harry grips at his knee, his thumb rubbing circles over the sensitive skin on the back.
A nose presses into his cheek, the following sigh sweet enough to make his heart flutter.
“If you’d like me to be.”
“Do you want to be?”
“Yes,” the brunette rasps, mouthing down to his jaw, lips ghosting words across the blonde’s cheek. Niall thinks that Harry could completely wreck him with that voice.
“So you’re my boyfriend,” Niall murmurs against red lips. “Should we tell the boys?”
Harry pushes a lock of blonde hair behind the other boy’s ear, fingers moving fluidly to caress his jaw and trail down his neck. He can’t resist kissing him again. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Niall murmurs, pecking Harry’s lips one more time before cuddling in and nuzzling into the space under the taller boy’s chin. The room is dark and Harry’s fingers are back in his hair and he can’t stop the yawn from escaping.
“You tired?” Harry asks, voice soft.
“A little,” he admits. “Head still hurts.”
Harry hums, kissing him lightly on the forehead. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
Niall’s mind instantly drifts to a drowsy and naked Harry lying in bed beside him. “Y-yeah, sure. If you want.”
Harry peers down at his face and grins, poking a finger teasingly into the blonde’s flushing cheeks. “Is Nialler thinking dirty things?”
“No,” he answers calmly, even as his heart hammers in his chest.
“I think you are,” Harry laughs. Niall snaps his teeth at the other boy’s fingers, smiling in satisfaction when he pulls them back in surprise.
“I’m gonna go take a quick shower.” Niall stands, straightening his shirt before looking at Harry from under his lashes. “You really wanna spend the night with me?”
“Sure do, babe.” Harry winks.
“I’ll uh, see you in the room then.” Niall scurries out of the room leaving Harry to fight back a fond smile as he goes to clean the kitchen. He’s just finishing with the dishes that Niall had shoved in the sink when there’s a knock at the door.
Louis is standing in the hallway, hands buried in his pockets and bare toes tapping at the floor. He peers quickly over Harry’s shoulder.
“Hey, is Niall here?”
Harry nods, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “He’s in the shower.”
“Okay…good.” Louis nods, blue eyes wandering the hallway and teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Can we talk?”
Harry crosses his arm and leans back into the door, shoulders set as he levels Louis with a serious look. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Me and the guys have been talking and, well,” Louis pauses, shuffling on his feet before taking a breath and looking Harry in the eye. “We don’t think this is healthy, Harry.”
“I’ve heard this before, Lou. We really don’t need to-”
“No. Just hear me out, okay?” Louis interrupts, holding out a hand to signal Harry to let him finish. “It’s been six months since the accident and he hasn’t gotten any better.” He huffs out a quick breath before continuing, intent on finishing before Harry interrupts him again. “Niall is stuck in the past - he’s more than a year in the past. He doesn’t remember all the things we’ve done, all the places we’ve been, and he doesn’t remember his relationship with you. As far as Niall knows he’s a part of a successful boy band who are getting ready for their first U.S. tour. And he’s happy like this – this is a good point in his life.” Harry won’t meet his eyes, shoulders slumped as he blinks at the floor, and Louis’ blue eyes soften. “You deserve to be happy too. We think it’s time you move on.”
Harry isn’t crying when he looks up, but the way his eyes shine with the amount of heartbreak the last six months have put him through is just as distressing. He shakes his head, curls bouncing loosely around his face.
“He does remember. At least, a part of him does. He keeps doing things that we used to do when we were together. Like leaning in to me when we’re watching tele or kissing me when I bring him food.” His eyes are pleading Louis to understand, but the Doncaster boy stands his ground.
“And yesterday he was holding your hand when you went shopping and last week he was stealing your clothes to sleep in. Damn it, Harry, two weeks ago he let you fuck him, but come the next morning he doesn’t remember. He never remembers and I can’t stand to watch you go through this everyday.” Louis thinks he might cry because Harry and Niall are two of his best friends and he hates to see something so incredibly awful happen to two of the kindest and most loving people he knows.
“The doctors say there’s a chance his memories will come back.” The words sound worn as they slip past his lips. They’re the same words he tells himself everyday.
“No one will blame you if you walk away.”
Harry shakes his head. “I can’t do that.” He shrugs, lips curving into a wobbly and heartbreaking smile. “I love him too much. I’ll make him fall in love with me everyday, over and over again, if I have to.”
Louis watches him for a moment, notices how his arms are tucked into his chest, posture curled and defensive. His eyes trail from the set of his jaw to the tension in his shoulders before heaving a sigh, hands rising in defeat. “Okay, just… be careful, yeah?” He turns to leave, casting Harry a last glance over his shoulder. “I’m just downstairs if you ever want to move back in.”
Harry waits in the hallway until Louis’ gone, collecting himself and calming his nerves before heading back inside. The shower is off, the only sound being a shuffling noise coming from the bedroom.
He finds Niall, hair wet and wearing only a pair of boxers and large t-shirt, shoulders deep in his closet.
“Looking for something?”
“Have you seen my laptop?” Niall calls out, voice muffled.
Harry uses the same excuse he uses every time. “I think you left it at Liam’s. We’ll get it tomorrow.” He pulls Niall from the closet by the waist and throws them both onto the bed. The giggle that falls from the blonde’s lips makes him think of a million things that Niall himself can’t remember and he pulls him into a kiss. Days like this are rare and he’s desperate to soak all of it in – take every memory and hold them close to his heart where they’ll be safe – while he can.
Niall pulls back and nestles into the pillow, his hair circling his head like a golden halo. The smile that lights his face falls when he spots Harry’s reddened eyes.
“You okay, Haz? Your eyes are all red.”
“Just tired,” he lies.
“Me too. I’ve barely moved all day, but I’m exhausted.” He adjusts until his head is pillowed on Harry’s chest, one arm wrapped firmly around his waist. “I was thinking, tomorrow we should go to the beach. Summer’s gonna be over soon.”
“Alright,” Harry agrees, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head before wrapping him up in his arms and pulling him close. “Anything you want.”
“I’m really glad we’re together now, Harry.” It’s nothing more than a whisper as he slips off to sleep. Harry watches him for a long while before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp and closing his eyes.
The next day Harry wakes up early and slips silently out of bed as he does every morning. He showers quickly, grabbing a change of clothes from the guest room where he keeps his things, and heads to the kitchen to make breakfast for two.
“Man, my head’s killing me.”
“Here, take these.”
“Thanks, mate. Did you spend the night here?”
“Yeah, crashed in your spare room. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“You and Lou have a go, then?”
“Something like that. So I was thinking we could go to the beach today.”
“Don’t we have an interview?”
“Naw, it was cancelled.”