Please do a drabble where Niall is really tiny, and he’s at the library and he can’t reach a book and Harry helps him? Andddddd then they exchange numbers and BOOM 1 year later they become a couple? Thank youuuuuuu
note: i’ve taken a few inches off Niall’s actual height (5’8) just to make this drabble just that little bit more adorable :’)
but, i hope you like this, niallermybabe! this was fun to write :) if any of you were here in the first few years of my tumblr acc, you might remember how much i adored Narry, so i love writing their pairing! feel free to keep sending those prompts/drabbles! 💜
anyways, enjoy! :)
“Oh, come on,” 18 year old Niall Horan groaned as he tried to reach for the book he wanted. Niall was 5’4, he blamed his Irishness for that. He hated being small, he swears people in the street purposely bump into him and nearly knock him over. Even in his flat he couldn’t use the higher shelves without a stool. He hated it. And now, this library was just taunting him.
“You suck,” He huffed, glaring up at the shelf as if it was to blame. He didn’t like asking for help, it was embarrassing. His height was the bane of his life, it was the only thing he wished he could change about himself.
His mother had always called it “cute”, his father loved picking him up teasingly, and his older brother used to hold things above his head just to spite him. Fair to say, Niall wished he was taller. Especially now at 18, an adult for goodness sake, he needed to be able to do things for himself.
He sighed, looking around the area for any sort of stool he could sneakily use, before trying one last time to reach for the book, until a voice suddenly sounded from behind him. “You okay there, sir?” When Niall turned around, he froze, for there stood the most beautiful man he had ever seen with the curliest hair and cutest dimples as he grinned.
“H-hi…” He squeaked, immediately mentally berating himself. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and knew he was blushing furiously.
“Hi yourself,” The guy chuckled, “Do you need any help?”
“Um, I, uh…can’t reach…the book,” Niall stuttered, looking up at the shelf briefly before looking at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Which one were you after? I can give you a hand, if you want?” The guy asked, smiling fondly.
“Uh, it’s the uh, James Patterson ‘The Murder House’ one…up there…” He said, pointing out the book and watching as this earth angel easily grabbed the book, taking a quick glance at the cover before handing it to Niall, “Thank you so much!” Niall exclaimed, hugging the book close to his chest as he grinned up at the man.
“It’s no problem at all, sweetheart,” The guy replied, “I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Styles,” He introduced himself, holding out his hand.
“I’m Niall Horan, it’s nice to meet ya, Harry,” He grinned back, shaking Harry’s hand and feeling sparks immediately. Boy, he couldn’t wait to go home and call his mam about this man. Niall knew he was super attracted to this Harry…
“Do you work here?” Niall asked, curiously.
“Yeah! My best friend, Louis, got me the job last year. He works on the counter over there,” He pointed to a fluffy haired guy behind the counter, chatting away happily to a girl, “We work the same shifts since we car share, so it made sense,”
“That’s so cool!” Niall said, “I mean, getting to work with your best friend must be fun,” He giggled. Harry grinned at the sound, and Niall blushed once again.
“Yeah, it is pretty cool. Is this your first time here? I haven’t seen you in here before, and I never forget a face!” Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to the side, and Niall thought it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
“I’ve just moved in down the street. Finally ‘flew the nest’ as my ma put it. She’s back in Ireland, but I always dreamed of living in London, so I found a job, found a cheap flat, and here I am!” He explained, waving one hand around, as he talked.
Harry laughed, “I like you, Niall. You’re cute,” Harry winked, and Niall felt like his knees would buckle any second, “Come, let me introduce you to Louis!”
With that, Harry took Niall’s hand and dragged him over to the counter and, that was the start of something very magical and very special for both Niall and Harry.
•••
One Year Later…
“Ni, babe, have you seen my phone?” Harry called up the stairs to his boyfriend of 6 months as he patted his pockets while turning his head side to side looking for the missing device.
There was silence for a moment before there was a chuckle and footsteps coming down the stairs, “You left it on the bedside table,” Niall smirked, holding the phone out for Harry to take. His boyfriend laughed and grabbed the phone, then took Niall’s hand and pulled him down the last step gently, pulling him close.
“This is why I kept you around,” Harry smirked back, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s.
“Hmm,” Niall hummed happily, “That the only reason?” The Irishman smirked, pulling back but keeping his arms around Harry’s neck.
Harry pressed his forehead to Niall’s, “Hm, maybe not the only reason…” He whispered, kissing him again before Niall pulled away.
“Come on, babe, we’ve got a lunch date with Louis and Liam, we don’t wanna be late again,” Niall laughed, moving his arms away from Harry’s neck and moving to grab Harry’s car keys.
“That was your fault last time! You were the one who insisted we stop off at the store!” Harry exclaimed, following Niall to the front door.
Niall turned around just as Harry was close enough so their bodies were pressed together. Harry grabbed Niall’s hands and they locked eyes. “I love you, Haz,” Niall whispered, biting his lip as he took in the face he adored so much.
“I love you more, Ni,” Harry replied just as quietly, looking at Niall’s lips before he tilted Niall’s chin up and pressed their lips together for a soft and loving kiss, “Thank you for saying yes,” Harry said softly, leaning their foreheads together once more.
“Thank you for making me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Niall replied, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and cuddling into him, closing his eyes and sighing softly as he felt Harry hold him tightly. He felt lips press against the top of his head and grinned happily.
A year ago, Niall was just a new kid in a big city, wanting a book from a small library, and who knew that he would meet his whole world there? He moved out of his small, one bed flat, a month into their relationship, and now lives in a two story, two bed house with the love of his life. What could be better! Niall adored Harry with everything in him, and he knew Harry felt the same.
They were two peas in a pod, two hearts combined into one, two souls connected forever. They were NiallandHarry, HarryandNiall, and nothing could break them apart.
Yes, Niall thought happily, This man is my forever.
well, there you go! :) sorry if it feels kinda rushed at the end, i already felt like it was getting a bit too long to be considered a drabble, so i didn’t wanna drone on! i hope you enjoyed it all the same!! it was so fun and cute to write, hahahah! 💜
as always, lemme know what you think!
p.s i realised i missed out the exchanging of phone numbers bit, im so sorry!! i hope it’s still good, tho!
Niall yawned as he sat up in bed, feeling surprisingly energetic. He had gone to sleep early that night, and now that he was awake, he couldn't get back to sleep. He pushed the sheets off of himself, slowly getting up out of bed, careful not to wake the others. He made his way into the kitchen, turning on a lamp so he could see.
"Niall..?"
Niall jumped in surprise when he heard the groggy voice of Harry. He turned around, looking back at his bandmate. "Hey, Haz," he greeted, keeping his voice quiet.
"What are you doing up? It's three in the morning, Ni," Harry asked, pointing over at the little clock on the wall. Niall looks over at it and sees how late it is. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Went to bed too early last night, I think. Sorry if I woke you up."
Harry shook his eyes, letting out a yawn before rubbing at his eyes a bit. "You didn't. I'm good, just woke up. Got a little hungry."
Niall grinned at that and looked back over at Harry. "That's a good coincidence, then. I'm also hungry." He paused for a moment, the grin still on his face. "You thinking what I'm thinkin'?"Harry returned the grin and nodded.
"Pancakes?" The two said in unison, then laughed. "Great minds think alike, huh?" Harry laughed. Niall nodded, still laughing a bit."Well then, I guess we've got to make pancakes now."
Harry and Niall walked out into the kitchen and set up everything to make the pancakes. They made the pancake batter and started pouring it onto the pan. It went smoothly, for the most part, until Niall dropped the pan, causing a loud noise.
The two froze, already knowing what would happen. They didn't bother trying to run away from the scene. They wouldn't be getting out of it this time.
"Are you guys making pancakes? Again?"
There it was. Liam woke up and came downstairs to scold them about their late night cooking session. That was the fourth time that week.
The two didn't even bother denying it this time. "Sorry, Li. We won't do it again."
Liam rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen with them. "You said that last time. And the time before that. And before that. I already know you guys will keep doing it." He sighed, going to stand in the kitchen with them. "I'll let it slide if I can have a pancake. I'm up now, won't be getting back to sleep any time soon."
Harry nodded, and Niall handed Liam a plate of pancakes, going off to make another for himself, letting Harry have the other one. The three started eating a few moments later, sitting in the living room together. Liam was quiet for a few moments before chuckling.
This is very short but I’m trying to clear out some of my drafts I’ve got going and this was one of the better ones. Also not doing this on mobile for once so hopefully it won’t clog up anyone’s dash. Also, I’m super slack when it comes to editing so it’s very possible that there are errors in here.
Niall scanned the semi-crowded pub to see if anyone he knew was there. There were plenty, however, none worth talking to. He hadn’t really wanted to leave the house but also hadn’t felt like cooking. So here he was in the pub a block from his flat praying that no one tried to start a conversation. He could see someone approaching in his peripheral and tried to stick his nose deeper into the menu hoping they’d take a hint. They didn’t
“Excuse me, you look really familiar.” The man was tall and Niall refused to meet his eyes.
“Sorry, I don’t think so,” Niall replied shortly but the man still didn’t get the hint.
“I know. You must be the guy from my dreams.”
Niall gave a pained laugh and genuinely considered walking out of the pub right then. That was really the best he could come up with? Unfortunately, he seemed to be under the impression that the laugh was genuine and took it as a sign to slide into the booth across from Niall. He lowered the menu to get a good look at the person intruding on his alone time. His bright green eyes had a mischevious glint to them. And Niall can’t help but think he’d like run his fingers through his dark curls but he has to stop that train of thought quickly.
“I’m Harry.”
He was smirking like he knew his line had done the trick and Niall was his.
“That’s nice.”
“You’re not gonna tell me your name?”
“Nah, don’t think so.” He knew he was being difficult but it hadn’t been a great day and he still wasn’t totally in the mood for this.
Harry frowned and then his eyes grew wide with panic.
“Aw fuck, you’re straight aren’t you?”
The question startled an unpleasant snort out of Niall.
“No, not quite.”
Relief flooded Harry’s face and he leaned back into the booth to take Niall in.
“You’re not very friendly are you?” his observation caused Niall to let out a sigh.
“It’s been a long day.”
“Ah so you’re stressed huh?” he has this goofy smile on his face “You know I could help with that.”
Niall scoffs but it is a tempting offer. He can’t deny that Harry’s attractive and he is pretty charming.
“Oh yeah? And what exactly did you have in mind?” Just because he’s not going to sleep with him doesn’t mean he can’t flirt back.
“The smirk on your face now tells me that you already know what I have in mind.” And Niall’s interest has definitely grown as the conversation has progressed, “Problem is, I still don’t know your name.”
“And why should I tell you?” He’s always been better at playing hard to get.
“Well, I need a name to go with the phone number.” The smile must be a permanent fixture.
He’s certainly confident and that in itself is half the reason Niall is actually considering giving in.
“I’m Niall, and if you buy me a beer I might be convinced to give you my number.”
Harry’s smile is blinding and the way he jumps up tripping over his feet in an attempt to get to the bar as quickly as possible is one of the most endearing things Niall has ever seen. And when he’s walking back with a drink for himself and Niall’s beer his smile still hasn’t dimmed and Niall might melt a little.
They end up talking for close to two hours sitting there in the pub. The conversation flows smoother than any date Niall has ever been on, though he has to remind himself several times that this isn’t really a date. They have so much in common that he actually starts to wonder if Harry is real, the foot that tangles with his under the table reminds him he is. And later when he has Harry pressed against the wall outside he nearly pinches himself but his hands are a little preoccupied what with the way he’s pulling Harry even closer and finally entwining his fingers in his hair as he kisses him.
He can’t fight the smile that makes it’s way onto his face when Harry texts him right after dropping Niall off at his flat.
Helloooo, sorry for the delate! Hope you like it xx
__________
“You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”
Harry has been holding his fork and wiggling it around his plate since they sat down at the table half an hour ago. The food hasn’t been eating but it has been misplaced, the mashed potatoes are mixed with the green beans, the carrots are even tinier pieces than the regular finger size slices Harry usually make, and the steak is long forgotten.
Niall has noticed since they sat down but decided to give him a little time to talk, so he’s been the one conducting the conversation, he’s been talking about the shows he’s planning to go, how’s writing in the studio lately, how hilarious Lewis Capaldi’s last Instagram story was, he even talks about that documentary he watched in Netflix a couple of weeks ago but he gets no response from Harry and his silence is freaking him out a bit. What if he changed his mind about this second chance they gave to each other already? What if he is already regretting the last three nights they’ve been spending together? What if he doesn’t love Niall anymore?
So that’s the reason why he can’t keep pretending he doesn’t see something is off with Harry, especially when he’s not even trying anymore. At first, he cared enough to act like he was listening, nodding time to time, mumbling answers and smiling when Niall laughed but now is radio silence.
“What? Nothing.” He says, looking surprised.
“Cut the bullshit. You’ve been acting weird since last night when we came home.” And that’s the truth but Niall didn’t give it much of a thought when they got to bed, or this morning when Harry served burned bacon and the eggs for breakfast.
Harry takes a long breath looking up at the ceiling before, finally, dropping the fork on his plate.
“Why didn’t you tell me your father hates me now?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Niall directly in his eyes.
“What?” Niall whispers back, as just the thought of it was delusional. Bobby loves Harry, he knows that. Everyone knows that.
The three of them went to a pub last night, it wasn’t exactly planned but Bobby was in London with his girlfriend and Niall wanted to see him for father’s day, so he called him to meet for a couple of beers. That was what he told Harry over lunch and he kind of invited himself for the evening, apparently, he missed the old man a lot. It was too soon but it’s different when it comes to the two of them, they are not just ex-lovers, they’re friends and Bobby is always asking about Harry and how’s he doing, so it seemed like a good idea.
“He hates me, Niall,” Harry says, broken voice and teary eyes. And Niall’s mind stops running for a second because his hurt starts hurting, Harry is actually about to cry.
“What are you even talking about?” He gets closer to him and holds his hand. “We were talking the whole night, he even laughed at that stupid joke of yours about the cow.”
Harry pouts for a second and rubs his fists over his eyes, “the second you left to the restroom, his smile dropped off his face and he started watching the game in the screens, ignoring me completely.”
Niall frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” He yells, making Niall back up a little. “I felt like I was suffocating and I understand- I mean, I broke your heart but I was hurting too and-”
“Stop, stop.” Niall places both hands over Harry’s shoulders, trying to calm him down and keep him from rambling around. “We talked about that and we agreed to not come back to it.” Harry nods but he can’t look at Niall’s eyes when he does. “…And regarding Bobby, maybe he was having a bad day, or he was tired. I don’t think he meant to be rude to you.” Niall says but Harry is already shaking his head, refusing to accept any of the previous possible explanations.
Harry’s nose is stuffy so he rubs it and makes it even redder than it was five seconds ago, he’s trying not to cry and Niall asks himself if he missed something last night, if he didn’t see the exact moment after he came back from the toilets to Harry looking a little uncomfortable and Bobby telling them something Theo did last week that left him speechless. Maybe he was too distracted by the story or he was just happy of having Harry back, for this new chance they had on their hands, maybe he was too excited with the idea of this turning into a regular thing again: Sundays with Harry and his dad.
So no, he didn’t see or feel anything different, he didn’t catch a fake smile coming from his father or the hurt in Harry’s eyes as he finished his beer, or maybe he did and he let himself think it was the fact he only drinks beer when Bobby is around, otherwise he wouldn’t even think about it.
“Okay…” he says slowly, “What did he say?” Niall asks, looking at Harry, trying to understand the situation but he laughs.
“Nothing.” He says, looking at the couch in front of them. “He didn’t even look at me.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Niall says shrugging and crossing his arms over his chest.
“No!” Harry jumps from his seat, finally looking at him. “Don’t! I don’t want him to hate me more.”
“If this is what’s going on, I have some blame too,” Niall stands up from his chair, they promised they wouldn’t talk about it again, it was too hurtful but apparently, they haven’t figure everything yet, “I called him the last time we… split, it wasn’t my best moment.”
He remembers that night almost five years ago, before going to the Asian trip. He was so young and even if they weren’t in a real relationship, it was real, Niall was in love and after that phone call and those pictures, he was broken and drunk when he called his dad, asking him how did it felt when mom left him, how he got over it. And he listened and asked Niall to come home but he didn’t want his father to see him like that so he decided to hide all over the world and he worked in his music until he healed, until he was ready to see more clearly and accept that it wasn’t entirely Harry’s fault, that he had a lot to do with it. But he didn’t call Bobby when he figured it out, he didn’t call him to tell him about the times Harry and he slept together over those five years until they couldn’t keep hurting each other anymore without wanting more.
They missed each other, they craved each other and they needed each other. So after all the bullshit and the pain and the lies, they finally grew to become the men they are today, two men that love each other and they want make it work, they want some kind of commitment so they can protect themselves. Bobby just didn’t know that Niall wasn’t a heartbroken kid anymore, he was a grown ass man that knows what he’s doing, he knows what he’s risking too.
“Hey,” he smiles at Harry, taking his chip up to look at his eyes. “I love you.” Harry nods and a tear falls down. “Bobby knows that and you know he would never hate you, maybe he’s a bit mad but it doesn’t matter, we’re gonna make this work.”
#148: Why do you only kiss me when Ii'm sleeping? -- PLEASE? Thank you.
Hi, sorry I’m late as fuck to start responding to these prompts. Here’s my take on this one!
x
The show is over. Harry’s off the stage before the others have finished their final bow. The roar of the packed arena follows him backstage, trailing along the halls until he closes his dressing room door against the sound. Now it sounds like whispers somewhere far off having a good time without him.
Harry whips off his sweaty shirt and unclips his own mic pack, leaving it on the table beside the microphone he forgot to drop off at the sound table.
Niall comes in the room when Harry’s fumbling with the ankles of his skinny jeans, trying to kick them over his heels unsuccessfully; he’s bent over, unfurling the fabric to ease it over and trying not to fall when Niall says something about running off and closes the door behind him.
“Wanted to be first to shower,” Harry says. When he finally stands up again after getting his jeans off, his face is redder than it was whilst running around on stage.
“Of course,” Niall nods, doing some dramatic in-air twist as he throws himself onto the couch on his back. “My room later?”
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, unabashedly taking off his briefs and socks as he goes into the bathroom, leaving the door open a few inches-- he doesn’t know why he always does it when Niall’s around, whether it’s some primal display of wanting to be fucked or a subconscious signal that he feels comfortable with Niall, he isn’t sure. Niall doesn’t ask or indulge.
Harry lingers in the shower, letting the hot water turn his skin red and ease out the ache in his muscles. When he’s out and after he’s wrapped a fluffy white towel around his hips, he finds Niall just where he left him, except now his discarded clothes are in a pile in one chair and his mic pack isn’t on the table.
“You aren’t cleaning up after me, are you?”
“No,” Niall says, hardly glancing up from his phone as Harry wanders past. “Lou came by.”
Harry stops and turns to look at Niall over his shoulder as he pulls a new t-shirt from the clothes rack in the corner.
“Lou Teasdale touched my dirty clothes?”
Niall looks up from his phone and grins but says nothing.
“Thought so,” Harry chuffs, pulling the plain black t-shirt on over his dripping hair. He takes the towel from his waist and drapes it around his shoulders so he can step into a loose pair of basketball shorts that actually turn out to not be that loose.
“Are these yours?” he asks, turning to Niall.
“Think so,” Niall chuckles. “Let’s hope there aren’t fans outside when we go back to the hotel ‘cause it’s sure obvious you’re not wearing boxers.”
“Wouldn’t make a difference if I was,” Harry mumbles, stepping into the pair of hotel-branded slippers he came to the arena in that afternoon.
“Have we just got one more night here? Or two?”
“Two,” Niall says, dropping his phone onto his chest. “We sold three bloody nights at MSG. Isn’t that crazy?”
Harry watches Niall drag a hand through his dark-rooted blond hair and stare at the ceiling with shock written all over his face.
“I never thought we’d be here,” Harry says.
“Me either.
“Oh, a few of the others were talking about going out for drinks after.”
“Oh. Do you wanna go?”
“No, I was just letting you know. They’re going off in the vans. We’re gonna take a bus back whenever you’re ready.”
Harry glances down at his crotch and hopes Niall was only joking earlier.
“I’m ready when you are. You don’t wanna shower here?”
“Nah, I wanna jump straight in bed after my shower,” Niall says, getting up with a laborious sigh.
It feels like a waste sending a whole bus with only two people. Harry sits on one side of the aisle and Niall sits on the other, trying to get something on the telly while they make the very short journey from the venue to their hotel. By the time Harry’s ready to speak up and say it’s too late for there to be anything interesting on, the bus has already parked.
“That was the quietest ride we’ve ever had,” the driver says as Harry and Niall make their way to the exit. “Even just the two of you were quieter than normal. Get some rest.”
“You too,” Harry says politely, and Niall gives his own longer drawn out pleasantries as he says goodnight.
Harry can hear the patter of his feet against the blacktop as Niall jogs to catch up with him.
“You running off without me?”
“Would’ve waited for you at the elevator.”
“How thoughtful,” Niall laughs.
In Niall’s room, Harry finds his phone on the bedside table exactly where he’d left it that afternoon when the band left for rehearsals. He sits on the edge of the queen sized bed and slowly ticks through his notifications: Twitter mentions from verified accounts for people he doesn’t know, Instagram telling him someone he follows has posted a new story, a thousand and one new messages on both apps.
Harry sends Anne a message-- “Hi mum, just finished a show and turning in for the night. Love you, miss you. xx”-- and sets his alarm for 5 a.m. the next morning so he can squeeze in a workout before many people are up and in the hotel gym.
Niall’s shower has stopped, and as Harry kicks off his hotel slippers and turns on the lamp on his nightstand, the bathroom door opens with a puff of steam and Niall comes out, rubbing a towel against his hair, wearing an outfit similar to Harry’s.
“Time is it?”
“Almost 11:30.”
“Brilliant. Not much to do tomorrow. We’ll catch up on our sleep.”
“I’m waking up at 5 to work out. Wanna come with?”
“Probably not but we’ll see in the morning how I’m feeling.”
Niall drapes his damp towel across the arm of the desk chair and turns the main light out. He crawls into bed opposite Harry, and when he’s settled down into the covers, Harry turns off his lamp and settles down as well.
“G’night, Harry.”
“Night, Niall.”
Harry knows Niall will be knocked out in just a moment, so he stays still even though he isn’t that sleepy-- maybe if he stares at the dim light coming in from the edge of the curtains, he’ll think of a new hit for the final album.
After several minutes of nothing but the sounds of Niall’s breathing slowly finding a rhythm, Harry turns carefully and kisses Niall’s cheek, holding for several seconds before drawing back and pulling the blankets up around his shoulders. Over the stiff rustling of fabric, he hears Niall’s groggy voice.
“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”
Harry’s tiny gasp gives him away when he tries to pretend that he’s suddenly asleep, or maybe not there at all. Niall turns to face Harry, and after another moment of silence, punch him in the arm.
“I know you’re awake, H. Why do you do that?”
“I dunno,” Harry mumbles, trying to see Niall in the darkness.
“Dunno?”
“I don’t,” Harry says. “It’s no big deal. Just a kiss on the cheek.”
“Yeah but you do it nearly every night and you never say anything about it.”
“So?”
“So?” Niall copies. “Is there something maybe you wanna tell me, or…?”
Harry’s heart flutters as he thinks of all the words he could say right now. I kinda really like you or I’d really like to kiss you on the mouth or I’m too afraid to kiss you in the daytime even though I think I’m reading the signs right and I think you like me too but I don’t wanna make a move because I’d hate to ruin what we have in case I’m wrong.
“No,” he says softly. “Just… think you look like you need a kiss goodnight is all.”
Niall chuckles through his nose and leans over, haphazardly pressing a kiss into whatever skin he lands on -- much to Harry’s surprise and delight, the kiss is just on the corner of his mouth, going down toward his chin.
“Well goodnight, H. Let me know next time I look like I need a kiss.”
“Will do.”
Niall turns onto his other side again, and Harry turns onto his as well. In the darkness, with their backs turned, they fall asleep with identical grins, Niall’s smug and knowing, Harry’s giddy and shy.
#35 “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
(So, small disclaimer: you really hit the jackpot and got my almost dead plot bunny running, so this is a bit longer than the 500 words I promised…It ended at 2k so if you’d rather you can read it over at AO3. Also, I haven’t read it through again, so I’ll come back later to fix all the mistakes.)
So it starts like this: he and Harry are lounging about in their LA house when Niall realizes he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. And it’s not like he never thought about it, it’s that all those other times he thought of it as a sort of abstract concept. He wasn’t planning on leaving, and sure as hell Harry wasn’t either, so naturally they would be together forever. It never occurred to him that he wanted to marry Harry, officially, big ceremony with his ma crying and all. And that sort of takes him by surprise.
So now he’s got into the idea of planning a perfect proposal. Sure, he could just ask Harry over dinner one night and have it done with, but he didn’t want that. After everything they went through to even be together, they both deserved a nice story to tell their future children and both their mothers. Also, Harry deserved better.
First he gets the ring, which is stressful enough to almost make him drop the idea altogether, but he decides to man up -whatever that means- and pull through.
He visits so many jewelry stores he’s starting to dream silver and diamonds, and still none of the rings they show him are right.
There are some big ones, full of encrusted diamonds and gold ornaments that he’s sure Harry would like on any other occasion but just don’t feel right for this. And then there’s the simple ones, plain bands on gold or silver with just a small engraving, but they’re boring. He wants Harry’s engagement ring to stand out against all his other rings.
Things go like this for a couple of months until one day he gets frustrated enough he calls Maura to vent to her, and a week later he gets UPS package with his grandpa’s wedding ring on it and no note. The ring is a band of yellow gold, old but still pretty, and instead of smooth it’s encrusted with small emeralds all around. It’s simple enough that it won’t look over the top, but also unique enough it won’t just get overlooked every time.
It’s just perfect, and Niall feels like crying.
With the ring taken care of, Niall moves to choosing a perfect date.
His mind runs through all the cliches: Valentine’s Day, and Anniversaries, and Birthdays. But none of them work.
For once, it’s the middle of April and Valentine’s Day and Harry’s birthday have long come and gone, and there’s no way he’s waiting another full year to do this. Their anniversary it’s in October and he’s not willing to wait that much either. And what kind of asshole proposes on their birthday?
So the cliches won’t do, which means he has to think of a date himself and his life it’s stressful enough already without having to plan around both their schedules.
But whatever, he has Harry’s calendar synchronized with his own on his computer, so one night he waits until Harry is fast asleep and he can hear his snoring and sneaks into their office.
Both their schedules are packed once the summer starts and it doesn’t stop until almost the Holidays. Which means he now has less than two months to get it all perfected, and it’s not ideal, but he’s gonna have to make due if he wants to be engaged before they have to spend four months apart with just a few days off in between. He can do it, of course he can.
He selects a weekend in June where none of them have nothing to do for the next week and puts it down in both their calendars as ‘date night’. They haven’t got one of those in a while and he guesses he can get away with it without Harry noticing anything weird, he knows how much he likes those.
Except he maybe cannot, because next morning, when he goes down to the kitchen where Harry is making breakfast, he just looks at him a bit funny and says:
“So, you added a date night on the calendar?”
And it’s not like Niall thought he wasn’t gonna notice that, it’s just that he had hoped it would take him longer than a couple hours and then he’d have time to think of a good enough excuse.
“Well yes, we haven’t got one in a while, I thought you’d like it,” he says, and Niall doesn’t like lying to Harry, not even if it’s to hide his secret proposal plans. It just feels wrong.
But Harry just nods with his head and hands him his coffee.
“You’re right, we’ve been too busy. We promised we’d have one date night a month and it’s been at least three since the last,” he says. Niall just nods back, taking a sip of his coffee. “So what are we doing?”
And well, this is the part Niall hasn’t figured out yet. And maybe he should have made a plan before deciding on that date, but he didn’t want to risk any of them scheduling something else on that day.
“I- I mean I…” he starts to say but he honestly has no idea what to say. And then he remembers there’s this hipster place Harry’s been meaning to check out but they never get time to, and so he goes with that. “I thought you’d like to go to that restaurant Jeff went a couple months ago?”
“Are you serious?” Harry asks, his face brightening like a child on Christmas morning. “You got reservations? Since when? My name’s been on the waiting list since November.”
Well, shit.
“Just talked with some folks, moved some influences, you know how it is,”
For a second he thinks he just got busted, but Harry only smiles bigger and kisses his cheek.
“I knew you were worth keeping around,” Harry says, a glint in his eyes Niall knows well.
And Niall almost feels too guilty for lying to enjoy when Harry goes down on his knees and gets his mouth on his hardening dick. Almost.
And if Niall thought getting the perfect ring was hard, nothing compares to the hell he goes through trying to make those damn reservations for that goddamned restaurant.
First, he tries the obvious one and calls the place, hoping that his name might give him some kind of privilege, but they either don’t know who he is, or they just don’t care. They promise to include him on the waiting list and call him if there are any cancellations, but Harry’s been on it longer and he hasn’t got any calls, so that’s no hope.
Then he calls his team and has them calling every famous person he knows to ask if they have a reservation they might want to change with him. But of course no one with a table wants to delay it for Niall’s antics, not even when they learn it’s for a proposal.
Lastly, he thinks about hacking into their booking system and putting his name on it, even gets as far as to look up for hackers online before realizing that’s probably a very stupid idea that’s gonna get him either scammed of his money or in jail. But by this point it’s already the beginning of June and he’s running out of time.
And it’s not really about the restaurant. He knows Harry would understand if he told him there was a change of plans or a mistake on the reservation. He just wanted everything to be perfect for him and now nothing is.
And as the day of their date night approaches Niall just continues to feel awful because their dinner it’s the only thing Harry talks about. Well, not quite, but he does talk about it with such excitement that it breaks Niall’s heart every time.
It’s until the day before that he manages enough courage to come clean to Harry about it all.
They’re in their kitchen eating pasta for lunch and it’s cozy enough with a rare sudden pour of rain hitting on their windows, but Harry keeps mentioning the suit he plans on wearing for their date and Niall just can’t anymore.
“There’s no restaurant reservations, Harry,” he says, voice almost cracking with frustration.
“What?” Harry asks. “Did they had to cancel?”
And really, Harry is offering him an easy way out. Just say that they canceled and get it done with, push his proposal for after the summer.
But he’s so tired with frustration that he just says, “There never were reservations, I lied.”
“What do you mean you lied? Why would you lie, Niall?”
And Niall is so exhausted with himself he doesn’t even try to come out with an excuse.
“Why did you lie, Niall?” Harry presses again and his voice sounds angry, but Niall knows he’s just disappointed, and that’s somehow even worse.
“Niall,” and it’s the almost scream that gets Niall back on his senses.
It’s at that point that he realizes there never was gonna be a perfect moment, not even if he somehow got himself a table on the restaurant. He’s sure he would have gotten there only to find something else that didn’t live up to his expectations and chicken out of the whole thing.
Because even though he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with Harry, a part of him is worried Harry doesn’t want the same thing. So he made this whole “perfect” scenario on his mind as a way to prove Harry he was worth it, ‘please don’t leave me’.
But he can’t see it now, clear as day. And so he jumps out of his chair on the table and motions Harry not to move.
“Stay here, okay? Don’t go, I’ll explain all in a second,” he says before running for the stairs to the laundry room where he hid the ring because he knows Harry hates doing the laundry and would never go down there on his own.
When he comes back to the kitchen, ring safe inside his jeans pocket, he’s relieved to see Harry didn’t move. Sure, he’s standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth on a frown, but he’s still there and that’s what matters.
“I do have a reason why I lied,” he says, getting face to face with Harry. “But it’s a really stupid one and I don’t want you to make fun of me.”
“What are you even talking about, Niall?” Harry says, voice not even half as angry as before.
So now he’s here, in front of the love of his life, the weight of the ring on his pocket and there’s no five-star restaurant or expensive dinner. Hell, he was so caught up on his own bullshit he didn’t even remembered to write a speech. But this right here, them on their kitchen with the rain pouring outside and fresh out of a fight is as perfect as it goes.
“I love you, Harry. I’m sorry I was stupid enough to even make you doubt it for a second. I just couldn’t bear this not being perfect, but I was being stupid, it’s just perfect like this.”
“What-”
But Harry doesn’t get to finish his question, because Niall sinks down to his left knee in front of him and suddenly he can’t form words.
“Harry, you’re the most amazing man I’ve met in my life, and I’m the luckiest person alive for having the honor of knowing and loving you. You’re my best friend, my life partner, the man I’ve loved before I even knew what true love felt like. You’re the one person I can’t imagine my life without,” he starts saying, voice already cracking with emotions. “And it hasn’t been easy, you and I, and I know there’s been times when it would have been easier to just quit it, go different ways, but I’m so happy you decided to stay every single one.”
“Niall…” Harry begins to say, but Niall cuts him.
“And I love you so much, Haz, I couldn’t begin to explain to you how much. I love you and your ridiculous suits, and your hundreds of rings, and those necklaces you wear. I love the way you talk and your laugh, and I love the way you hold my hand at night when we go to bed. I love you with my entire self and, if you don’t mind, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
And Niall looks at Harry’s eyes, shiny with tears, as he presents him with the ring. “So, Harry Edward Styles, would you marry me?”
He doesn’t get an answer. Instead, he gets an armful of Harry, arms around his neck and his face in the crook of his neck. He can feel his tears on his skin and wetting his shirt, but he doesn’t mind one bit. He already knows the answer anyway, always did.
So he just holds him there.
“I still hate that you lied to me, whatever the reason,” Harry says after a couple minutes, eyes still teary but smiling. “But yes, I wanna marry you, Niall Horan. I’d do it every day of my life if you let me.”
“Reckon that’d be too expensive even for you,” Niall says as he slides the ring in Harry’s middle finger, admiring how it just fits with him.
“Don’t lie to me ever again.”
“I won’t even try, I promise.”
Harry looks at him with those eyes that render him useless just a second before their lips collapse with one another. The kiss sweet and passionate all at the same time, perfect with the years of practice, both of them perfectly in sync with each other.
And it isn’t the perfect proposal like Niall planned, but it is perfect all the same. And if Niall lets Harry do all the wedding planning it’s just for the greater good, really.
But can you indulge me and just give a little teaser of what Harry would say to Princess if he did have feelings for her because she knows him so well would she know something is up the moment he walks into the house? Uhg I just love them lowkey team Parry 😂😬☹️
Hi lovey! Okay sooooo you’re killing me I hope you know this, and i want to remind anyone who reads this that this is TOTALLY not going to happen in the series like at all but since you asked so nicely! Also the fact you call them Parry like I’m dying! I hope you enjoy this 😩💖
“Have to talk to you,” Harry’s voice coming from behind her would make her jump a bit as she looks up at her mirror and sees him standing there with his hands on his hips and an expression on his face she doesn’t think she’s seen before. “I don’t know how to do this.” The way his voice shakes makes her nervous and worried as she turns around so she’s now facing him.
“What’s wrong Harry?” Her voice soft and soothing making Harry relax a bit as she reaches out and places a hand on his arm. The warm smile she gives him makes his heart beat faster as he finally looks her in the eyes, the eyes that he swears can see right through him. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Harry just nodded his head as he let took a deep breath and let it out slowly making her just tilt her head as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I know I can, jus don’t know how to go about this.” Her hand dropped from his arm as she took a step back from him once he started pacing around her bathroom, she knew it was better to give him his space when he was in this sort of mindset. “Never thought I’d be sayin this, well I’ve thought about saying it but never actually thought I’d ever do it but m’here and I’m gonna say it.” Harry mumbled as he stopped his movements making her chuckle to herself as he stood right in front of her. She gave him a nod as if to tell him it was okay he could go on and tell her whatever it is he needs to get off his chest.
“I love you,” Harry announces and he can tell by the way her she just raised an eyebrow that this didn’t sound like anything groundbreaking because they tell each other that everyday so he reaches out and grabs both of her hands in his and makes sure she’s looking in his eyes before he begins talking. “I mean I really love you Princess. I’ve seen you get your heart stomped on by blokes who didn’t deserve you, didn’t know how to treat you right and didn’t know what they had when they had it. But I do,” Harry watched her eyes go a bit wide as he spoke so he just gave her hands a little squeeze as she bit down on her bottom lip.
“I know how you deserve to be treated because I know exactly who you are and how you need to be loved. I’ve seen you at your lowest and I’ve been there when you’re at your highest and everything else in between, I know you and I love you. I love the way you pout in the morning when your coffee is taking too long to be made, how you can’t help but sing as you walk around the house, how you love getting dressed up and going out for an hour and then coming home to your bubble bath and candles. I love how you don’t let me get away with anything because you know the man I am and the man I can be and you won’t have me acting like anything different. I’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated and you’ll never go another day without being properly loved and cared for, I promise.” Harry saw the tears forming in her eyes and he knew by the way her nose was getting pink and her cheeks were getting red that she had been holding them back for a while.
He dropped her hands so he could wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull her into his chest. He took it as a good sign when her arms wrapped around his waist and she nuzzled her face into his chest as she let the tears fall freely from her eyes. He placed a kiss to the top of her head as he gave her a squeeze as a sigh of relief let him, he got it all off his chest and put it all out there so she now knew exactly how he felt.
“I love you too Harry.” Her soft voice made him feel like he could melt on the spot as it said the words he wanted to hear. “You’re truly perfect,” She pulled away so she could look at him as his hands came up to cradle her cheeks so his thumbs could swipe away the last few tears that were rolling down her face. “And not just because you enjoy causing trouble in hotel rooms,” Harry just rolled his eyes as a chuckle escaped him as she shot him a playful smirk. “But because you know me through and through and still love me, and I know you the exact same way and even if you do steal my face masks and use all my fruit for your gross smoothies, I love you.” Harry smiled as he blinked away the few tears he now felt threatening to fall as he leaned down and placed a kiss to her nose making her giggle before he placed one right on her lips. 💖
This heavily based on an O. Henry short story, and minorly based on my favorite Walt Whitman poem.
Niall is thirteen.
The dilapidated sedan crawls to a halt a quarter mile past the moor’s eastern gate. Bobby turns around in the driver’s seat, one hand braced against the headrest of the passenger seat, and nods once to each of them. “Meet me back here at 9 o’clock sharp, boys. Niall? Got your watch?”
Grinning with every inch of his mouth, Niall points to the wristwatch dangling from his left arm, just a little too big for his thin, preteen wrists. “9 o’clock!” he repeats.
“Good. And, Harry... don’t tell your mum I’m letting you boys do this.”
Niall can hear a snatch of Harry’s delirious giggle before they each open their doors and tumble out of the back seat.
Harry grabs his pack first from the car’s boot and hauls it to the ground. Niall can hear the tent poles clatter as it hits the ground with enough impact to send a pillow of dusty grit into the air. He squats to the ground and threads his hands through the straps, then tries to stand up. Instead of straightening up, he immediately keels forward, staggered by the top-heavy weight of the pack.
Niall bellows out a laugh and rushes to help Harry up. “Here,” he says as he grabs the top handle of the canvas pack and hefts upward with all his might. Harry follows his momentum and in half a second stands tall and earnest next to Niall, his triumphant grin threatening to outshine the sun.
“Now help me,” Niall says. He leaves his pack in the boot and rotates it so the straps face outward. He pulls them over his shoulders and leans forward while Harry pushes up. “There!” he says at last. They both turn to face Bobby.
“Got the sandwiches? And the torches?” Bobby asks. Niall nods. It’s the first time Bobby’s allowing them to go on their annual camping trip by themselves. He’s been doing this since he was five and his parents divorced, and brought Harry since he was eight. Besides, it’s only one night beneath the stars.
Just one night, he thinks later when he and Harry have rolled out their sleeping bags, close enough to the fire to feel its warmth but far enough that the sparks don’t threaten their nylon bags. He and Harry lie head-to-head on their backs, head cushioned by folded hands, staring upward at the astonishingly wide sky above them.
Niall could probably spend all night staring into the heavens. They’re lucky that the moor is secluded enough for even the Milky Way to be visible, a pearly ribbon of cerulean against the navy expanse. He knows all the summer constellations by heart. He points them out to Harry, who seems to forget each summer until Niall’s finger traces the celestial figures for him every trip.
“And that’s Draco, see? You can’t see that one if you’re in the city.”
He hears Harry tilt his head to follow the path of Niall’s index finger. “Which one’s your favourite?“
“Favourite?” Niall lets his arm drop to the side while he widens his eyes to drink in the night sky blanketing them. Then he points to the direction of six o’clock. “Bootes. Because it’s called Bootes.”
Harry chuckles at that, and the two fall silent. After a moment, Harry lifts his hand and points somewhere above him and to his left. “I have a favourite star. It’s that one.”
Niall cranes his neck to look where Harry’s pointing, but there’s no specific constellation in that part of the sky. Just an infinite pool of stars. “That bright one?” he asks, trying to follow Harry’s light of sight.
“Nah. Just below it, and to the left.”
Squinting, Niall studies the star, trying to understand what drew Harry’s attention. “Why?” he asks.
He feels, rather than sees, Harry shrug. “I just like it. I’ve decided to name it Francine.”
Niall stops craning his neck and cradles his hands back beneath his head. “You’re so fuckin’ weird sometimes, Haz.”
There’s a long silence that amplifies with its duration, and Niall wishes he could take it back. “Am I, Niall?”
Anyone else would have said those words sarcastically, but Harry’s tone is faint and earnest, befuddled. Niall knows this isn’t the first time Harry’s heard someone say that to him, but this time he actually takes it seriously. And the thought rises like bile in Niall’s throat. He doesn’t want Harry to change. He doesn’t want Harry to be any different.
“Yeah, but that’s why we’re friends,” Niall says forcefully. And he means it.
There’s another long silence, and Niall wonders if he should say something else to assuage Harry, but Harry is again the first to speak.
“I’ve decided my star isn’t a girl. His name is Liam,” he announces.
Niall is fifteen.
The sky isn’t as clear this time. They picked a spot too close to a village, and the Milky Way is invisible, but Draco and Hercules still watch over them as they pass a stolen bottle of whiskey back and forth. It scorches Niall’s throat and burns his eyes, but it’s theirs for the taking.
“Look, there he -- hic -- is,” Harry hiccups as he hands the bottle back to Niall. He points a shaky hand to the eastern sky. “Liam, just like last year.”
Niall takes a slosh and wipes his watering eyes before looking upward. “I swear you pick a new star every year,” he slurs.
“‘Course not,” Harry says. He eyes the bottle of whiskey and then shakes his head when Niall offers it to him. “No more.” He looks back up into the sky. “I told you he was my favourite. Not flashy. Burning away up there. Billions of miles away.”
“Whatever. Have you got any more Jaffa cakes? I’m starved.”
But after Harry swoons forward, sodden with whiskey, and Niall tucks him into his sleeping bag, he makes a note on his star chart.
And sure enough, the next year, Harry points out the same seemingly insignificant star.
Niall is eighteen.
It's the first time that Niall drives them instead of Bobby. He brings a pack of smokes that Harry won't touch, and a bottle of whiskey that they didn't have to steal this time.
"Greg's being a fuckin' twat," he spits out around the cig as the dusk draws around them.
Harry makes a noise between a harrumph and a grunt. "You don't need a brother when you've got Josh and Cal," he says. A pause. "And me."
Niall takes a drag on the cig, coughs, and tosses it aside. "These are shit," he says. "I shoulda listened to you."
He hears, rather than sees, Harry's satisfied smirk. "Thought I was a fuckin' weirdo."
"You are," Niall says. "Don't make me flick this cig at you."
They lapse into an easy silence while night falls. It's cloudy this time, not many stars except the few that manage to peek out at the horizon. Venus shines to the west and Niall fixes his gaze on it, like it's an anchor in a storm.
Harry takes a draught of the whiskey bottle and passes it to Niall. "Here, a vice I approve of."
"You're back on whiskey, then? Thought you gave it up after that camping trip three years ago."
Harry leans back to settle into his sleeping bag. "Ah, Niall, I've matured, see."
It's Niall's turn to harrumph, but he takes the whiskey and pours himself a healthy splash.
"Taylor didn't want me to come this year," Harry's voice floats up from below Niall.
He lets out a long, slow breath and shakes his head. "I know you like her, but shit, Harry--"
"We broke up."
"Oh." The silence fills Niall more than the liquor. "Shit."
"Yeah. 'Ts for the best."
Niall leans back to rest his head beside Harry's, their feet aiming in opposite directions. He lifts his shot glass. "To Taylor, then."
Harry lifts his hand to hold an invisible cup. "Nah. To Liam, wherever he's burning tonight."
Niall shakes his head, but can't wipe the smile from his face. "Fuckin' weird."
Niall is twenty-one.
"I got you a graduation gift for finishing uni," Harry says as they roll out their sleeping mats beside the fire. "You're gonna love it."
"Christ, if you got me another essential oil--"
"Ta-da!" Harry whips a bottle of Clynelish 12-year single malt scotch from his backpack. "Thought we'd go posh tonight."
Niall laughs. "Jesus, well, it's better than a kale smoothie." He dusts his knees off and sinks onto the top of his nylon bag. "I got you something, too." His voice nearly shakes with excitement. He hadn't told Harry that he'd snuck in an elective astronomy course at uni, though it had nothing to do with his International Affairs degree. He sits up and digs through his pack, looking for a folded manila envelope. He grins to himself as he pulls it from pack’s innards and smooths it against his lap before handing it to Harry.
“Oh wow, paper!” Harry says in mock enthusiasm. He switches on his headlamp (the red light, of course, so as to not ruin their star-gazing eyes to the light) and unsheathes a thick cardstock from the outer envelope.
Niall scoots closer to Harry, who bends his neck closer to the paper to read it. He points out a star map in the center of the page. “See? It’s Liam.”
Harry doesn’t answer. He continues staring at the page, glowing scarlet in the light of his headlamp, and Niall’s grin falters. “I adopted it,” he explains hurriedly. “You can adopt a star. Liam is 226K-421G, located at coordinates 18h 36m 56s and 38º 47' 01". I adopted it for you, Harry.”
In response, Harry slowly slides the sheaf back into the envelope and clicks off the headlamp. Niall stares at Harry in the sudden darkness, confused and slightly offended.
“Niall... thanks. But...” Harry trails off, then lifts his chin to stare back up into the sky, avoiding Niall’s gaze. “I don’t really want 226K-421G. I prefer Liam.”
“Okay,” Niall says numbly, mostly to fill the silence rather than indicate acknowledgment of Harry’s quiet refusal. Then, “I learned about it in my astronomy course. I calculated the coordinates myself.”
“That’s really cool, Nialler.” It’s a testament to their friendship that Niall knows Harry means it. He’s not one to say anything he doesn’t mean. “Uni-level astronomy, that must have been hard.”
“It was,” Niall says, once more leaning back to line on his sleepsack, trying to swallow his disappointment with another swill of whiskey. “I learned so much, though. Like, you’ve heard that the universe is expanding and every galaxy is zooming away from us every second?”
Harry, too, collapses back against his sleeping bag. “Yeah, Gemma told me that once.”
“Well, it’s not really like that. They’re not really moving away from us, so much as the space between us and them is getting bigger. And some day, the space between us is gonna be so big that we'll never see the light from them."
Harry falls silent. It’s only from the faint sound of his exhales does Niall know he’s not asleep. “You mean, one day there won’t be any starlight?”
“Yeah.” Niall nods, smiling lightly. “One day billions of years from now.”
“Well,” Harry says sharply, “that’s a perfectly terrifying thought. Thank you for gracing us with that.”
Niall laughs out loud. “Billions of years, mate. We won’t be here.” He tilts his head up to take another sip of whiskey.
They’re quiet for a few minutes, the only sound the occasional sips of liquor that they pass back and forth. “Imagine if there were still humans around then. On a starship. Chasing the last lights of the dying stars. Bit romantic, innit?”
Niall smiles through a swallow of beer. “Hmm. We didn’t touch on that in class.”
“Shame." Niall laces his fingers behind his head and refuses the dregs of the bottle from Harry, and they stare up in perfect silence at the stars.
The next morning, with both their heads heavy and slogged with last night's Clynelish, they set off on their day hike along a wide, unnamed stretch of river that feeds into the River Derwent. The air is cool and breezy by the rushing water, and Niall feels his energy restoring with each step, even with the heavy pack digging into his shoulders. Another mile and they'll find a spot to picnic, and then head back to the car park where they left his car. The day is as clear as last night was, and the sunshine splashes happily across the riverside trail.
But the good favour doesn't last. He hears Harry stumble before he hears the shout of alarm, but by the time Niall swings around to look behind him, he's too late to stop Harry from tumbling heel over head down the rocky bank into the water.
He doesn't panic - not yet anyway - the river isn't deep and he knows Harry can swim. But all the swimming prowess in the world couldn't get Harry out of the eddy that's caught his pack, pushing his head repeatedly under beneath the dead weight of the pack and unrelenting flow of the current rushing over rock.
"Shit," Niall swears and drops his pack at once. He scrambles down the bank, ignoring the sharp pain in his foot when he hits a rock at the wrong angle. Harry's head bobs in and out of the water and Niall can see his expression growing more and more stricken as his arms and legs try and fail to propel him into open water. Niall can see that his pack is caught on a submerged boulder, and the force of the water flowing over and around it prevents Harry from extricating himself from the tangle of straps.
He plows into the water at top speed and quickly decides that his best course of action is to get Harry's head above water so he can breathe. He wades through the current until he's just behind Harry and braces his feet as best as he can against the river bottom. He pivots and pushes his back against Harry's to incline the taller boy forward against the current. Harry's face breaks the surface and he splutters for air in terrified gasps. "My arm," he splinters out. "I can't get my arm out."
"Breathe first. I'll get to your pack in a sec," he says, hoping that keeping his voice even will calm Harry as much as he wishes it could calm himself.
After a few more seconds Harry shakes his head. "Just get me out of here."
"Okay. Hold your breath. Ready? One, two, THREE!" he releases Harry's weight and he goes down again, but this time he struggles less, saving his strength instead of fighting against the current. Niall wades as fast as he safely can to position himself upstream of Harry and his pack. He plunges his hands into the cold water and feels the tight canvas straps caught between two boulders. He scrabbles at them and feels the tension give as the straps slip free.
But in his haste he forgot to hold on to the pack. It tips forward with the flow of the current and Niall reaches up with a splash to stop it from falling onto Harry. He can't see Harry on the other side of the pack, and then all of a sudden the pack rips free from his grasp. What little calm Niall held onto vanishes when he sees Harry's plaid shirt drifting out towards the open water, straps still affixed to it. Harry's head bobs up and down again and Niall realizes something is very, very wrong. Harry must have given a giant tug the moment Niall loosed the pack, which toppled what little leverage Harry had and sent him careening into the open water with the dead weight of the bag dragging him down.
And now, Harry is out of reach. Niall screams out in panic, but the current is moving much faster than he can wade, faster than he can safely chase Harry without risking getting something caught as well. Harry's wet hair surfaces one last time before the river bends quickly around a steep embankment. Niall flouders out of the water on the opposite bank and runs flat out, all pain in his ankle forgotten.
He reaches the bend in the river and rushes down towards the water's edge, hoping Harry has washed up on the opposite bank by the force of the current. But Harry isn't there. He whirls to scan the depths of the river, and he sees movement from the corner of his eye and his heart nearly stops.
It's a man--two men actually, one cradling the other and kneeling on a sandy beach not ten yards from Niall's position. He nearly falls over himself as he stumbles forward and recognizes Harry's soaking wet tartan shirt.
He reaches the pair when the prostrate one, Harry, coughs up a lungful of river water and gasps almost hysterically for breath. The other man looks up at the noise of Niall's approach. "This your friend?" he asks.
Harry is hanging onto the stranger's tattooed arms for dear life, as if the man himself is a flotation device, soaking his clothes completely through. "Th-thanks," he chokes out.
Niall is almost speechless. "How did you-- where did you come from?"
"I come here sometime with my dad," the stranger explains with a polite smile, as if rescuing drowning campers is an everyday occurrence. "We like to fish. We don't usually catch people."
"Holy shit. Thank you," Niall says. He sinks to his knees to reach Harry, to touch him, as if he can't quite believe his own eyes, that the terror of the last few minutes has vanished with the sudden appearance of this gently smiling man. "Holy shit," he repeats, at a loss for any thought more complex than pure, unmitigated relief. "Thank you, Mr.--"
The man laughs and his eyes crinkle with the breadth of his smile. "Please, call me Liam."
