#narry totally could have picked him up when he left but. Why Would He. he would never bother. god he's the worst (i love him) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madforhoran · 8 years ago

Text

take the chance

Pairing: Narry (Niam, Zarry)

word count: 3096

“Could use a drink,” Niall mutters on Friday evening after suffering a particularly stressful week at work. Deadlines, month end, all that stuff he wishes he didn’t have to care about.

“Or a good fuck?” Harry muses and quirks his brow at him. He’s laying on the too-small-for-his-long-body couch, obviously home way earlier than Niall. Being a freelance photographer has its perks. Niall sometimes can’t help to feel a tad bit jealous of his friend.

“Too tired for that, mate,” Niall huffs and tussles his freshly cut hair. He got rid of the bleached blond finally, and his hair feels softer now. Easier to maintain.

“We’ll see,” Harry says, jumping off the couch like an enthusiastic monkey. “Let’s go down to the bar.”

Few drinks down his throat, but he isn’t interested in anything else besides the warm tinge of alcohol in his belly. He used to be a flirt, a good one. Suddenly, he realises peace is all he needs. His job has drained him of any drive to find someone. He’s become a monk over the last three years.

“C’mon, Ni,” Harry nudges him, a good-natured tipsy smile on his delicately shaped lips. “I can’t believe you’re not mingling in the crowd already. There’s a lot of fit birds and lads here.”

“I don’t know, H,” Niall shrugs. “Sorry, I’m no fun today, I guess.”

“Then let’s go home.”

“No, I don’t want to ruin your evening,” Niall protests, feeling guilty for being a downer. He just can’t help it.

“I won’t stay without you,” Harry winks, tosses money on the bar to pay for their drinks, and wraps his arm around Niall’s shoulders, dragging him outside.

It starts with a simple “I’ve been thinking...”

That night, Niall’s good ol’ friend Harry unzips Niall’s jeans and works on Niall’s cock until it starts fattening up in his hand. Niall’s mind is fuzzy; his body feels warm as Harry takes him in that beautiful mouth of his, and sucks. Sucks so expertly that Niall is orgasming a couple of minutes later, in an absolute state of craziness. It isn’t weird, right? There isn’t anything weird about a friend offering help by sucking your cock dry.

Niall decides it isn’t.

He definitely doesn’t think there’s anything out of the ordinary when the next day Harry fingers him open and fucks him so hard that he’s not able to sit down properly.

Everything is absolutely and totally fine.

⌘

Niall can’t argue with the fact that having Harry as a flatmate is making his life more bearable especially under current circumstances. They’re not together together, but there’s a new level added to their friendship. The biggest bonus is that Harry’s always there. Niall doesn't have to call; he doesn't have to bother with date preparations, awkward silence, and disappointment. He doesn't have to impress.

Harry knows when Niall needs the relief as if he had an alarm or sensor tuned onto detecting Niall’s bad mood and stress. Most of the time, he takes the lead. However, Niall is eager to return the favour. Mainly because the glint in Harry’s eyes each time he takes the initiative is addictive. Equally as much as Harry’s cock.

Niall calms himself down with the dirty thoughts during the long day at the office. It’s twisted, he knows. He should be focusing on work. Instead, he thinks about Harry wrecking him in so many ways that he won’t be able to catch a breath. Whatever helps him get through the day, he’ll use.

A new colleague, Liam, approaches his desk with a shy smile, and he has to suppress a sigh. What now? He wants to ask. Liam has been here for three months already; he's diligent, a quick learner who never makes a mistake. Niall doesn't understand why he has to be the one checking after him when there’s nothing to check. It’s almost as if the lad took every opportunity to speak to him.

“Hey, Niall, sorry…,” he mumbles and clears his throat, “could you please look this over? I’m not sure if I’ve done everything properly.”

Niall nods and scoots his chair to make some space for Liam. He places his laptop on the desk and points the index finger on the screen with the company’s ordering system opened. “I corrected the pricing,” he says, “but it doesn't add up.”

Niall barely glances at the order. All the data is hundred percent. “It’s alright, Liam, you can have one cent difference. This isn't an approved price offering,” Niall explains, even though he's pretty sure Liam knows it already. He'd passed the newcomer test with flying colours.

“Oh, shite. Sorry, I forgot,” he apologises sheepishly. He's like a lost puppy or acting like one so to speak.

“No problem, that's what I'm here for,” Niall says and returns to filling in the annoying excel tables he has to send to the maintenance team.

“Uh, I was wondering—,” he hears Liam’s soft voice again, “—if you'd like to have a dinner with me after work?”

What?

Niall gawks at him. Obviously, Liam is a decent lad, but all Niall can think about right now is his friend’s dick. It wouldn't be fair to Liam, would it? You and Harry are not together, Niall's rattled brain reminds him, you can do whatever you want. But he doesn’t.

“It’s fine if you say no, Niall, I just thought that—” Liam begins rambling, and Niall feels bad. Really bad. “Maybe sometime, yeah?” he stops him, giving him a tiny sliver of hope. He feels like a total arse. He shouldn’t, though. He and Harry aren't in a relationship; they’re friends for god’s sake.

Still.

He can’t wait to get home, have a pint, and watch himself sink onto Harry’s stiff cock. There’s no way he's willing to admit this is becoming a problem. No, he's just trying to make up for all the years he hasn't been properly touched.

He leaves the office at seven (and carefully avoids Liam). The drive back home has never been longer, and he licks his lips several times, nervously glancing at his phone. Harry’s probably cooking one of his delicious healthy meals, naked, with only the apron covering his bits. It used to annoy Niall a lot, now look at him, swallowing the spit as his jeans tighten.

He certainly doesn't expect someone else to occupy his place on the couch eating Harry’s food, hell no. “Hey, Ni,” Harry greets him, waving with a spatula. He's dressed in his best clothes, and Niall's mood falls south immediately. It doesn't take an expert to figure out what’s happening. First of all, what the fuck? Second of all, he didn't even bother to warn him. Third of all, what the fuck?

“Come sit with us, I'm sure you're hungry,” he offers, as innocently as ever. The stranger on their couch nods at him, barely acknowledging his presence. Wow. Niall guesses gorgeous people with perfectly sculpted faces like his don't need decent social manners.

Niall quietly takes his plate, fork, and a napkin, and sits down on the chair that presumably Harry moved there for him. The bastard planned it; he had absolutely no intention to hide all this.

“This is Zayn,” Harry breaks off the awkward moment and touches the man’s shoulder gently, “he’s a model. We met on a photo shoot.”

“I’m Niall, Harry’s flatmate,” Niall extends his hand politely when Zayn doesn't budge. He's met with the weakest handshake in the history, and a mumbled ‘nice to meet ya.’ What in the fresh hell is his deal? Why has Harry invited him here (apart from the obvious reason that the lad is attractive, and Harry would like to shag him, preferably without Niall knowing he did so)? Nevertheless, this seems like Harry wants him to know, and maybe he even wants his approval. By the look in his eyes, Niall suspects it’s true. At this point, he's sure he isn't going to be the one to get his brains shagged out tonight, and he's more upset than he should be.

The next morning, he's afraid to leave his room (he doesn't want to see Zayn, thank you), but he needs a wee. The bathroom is thankfully empty, and he can't hear any voices coming from the joined kitchen-living room. It’s a relief to find only Harry fixing himself a bowl of oatmeal. No other plates (or Zayn) in sight.

“Hey,” Niall murmurs and walks up to his friend. There are quite a few questions he'd love to ask, but he isn't sure he wants to hear the answer.

“Mornin’,” Harry smiles, “here, I’ve made some for you.” He points at the second bowl of oatmeal with blueberries and raspberries on top.

“Thanks.”

Niall begins eating quietly, ignoring Harry’s stare. He shouldn't be the one explain, and he hopes Harry picks up the hint. And he does, eventually, after Niall's half done with his breakfast, crankier with each bite he takes.

“So…about last night,” he says, forces Niall to look up. “Nothing happened; he left after you went to bed. But he asked me out on a date. Which is why we should stop this—this thing—between us.”

“M’kay,” is Niall's somewhat collected reaction. There’s nothing else to say.

⌘

Niall goes out with Liam, and it’s peaceful, relaxed. It turns out the puppy-eyed lad has the softest lips Niall's ever tasted (not that he tasted that many, but that’s not the point), and a cock to die for. He isn't Harry, no, no one can substitute the devil that is Harry Styles. However, he manages to take Niall's mind of the Harry-Zayn situation at least for a little while as Zayn tends to roam around their flat too often for Niall's comfort. He’s even bought ear plugs because he can't handle the obnoxious noises the two of them are making. Too bad he can’t go temporarily blind so that he wouldn't have to look at that skinny twat at all. What Harry sees in him is beyond Niall's understanding.

Their bathroom stinks of Zayn’s shitty cologne and hairspray, his shoes somehow always end up in Niall's way, and he's almost broken his neck twice, tripping over them as the douchebag takes them off wherever he pleases, instead of putting them next to the front door on a mat. Twatface.

“You seeing someone?” Harry surprises him with a direct question one night when both of them are home. Harry’s jerk is on a family visit, and Liam took a sick day.

“Yup,” Niall replies nonchalantly, switching the tv to golf channel. “Why?”

“We could go on a double date,” Harry suggests, and Niall chokes on his spit. Isn't enough of torture to have Zayn regularly pestering the air, now he should go on a freaking double date?!

“I don't think it’s a good idea, H.”

“Why’s that? Are you ashamed of him, or her?” Harry teases, and Niall scrunches his nose at him dismissively. It’s Harry who shouldn't be so damn proud to call that model prick his boyfriend. But he doesn't say it out loud.

“I wanna meet the person, Ni. I didn't keep Zayn from you,” he argues. As if he did a god’s deed by introducing him to Niall. Please. Maybe Niall should agree on this, to show how a decent human like Liam behaves.

“Fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “M’gonna have to check up on him, he hasn't been feeling well.”

“So, it’s a he?” Harry smirks.

“Liam, my colleague.”

Harry gapes at him with disbelief. “The Liam who's constantly asking for your help? The handsome, but annoying Liam? OK then.”

“He’s a good guy.” Unlike somebody else, Niall wants to add, but rather bites his tongue.

⌘

Liam’s mouth feels so warm wrapped around Niall's cock. The department meeting has ended, and Niall dragged Liam into the showers that for some unknown reason this building has even though there’s no gym. They are quite convenient in situations like this, though. Especially if he has to suggest Harry’s terrible idea to Liam.

The bearded lad hollows his cheeks, taking Niall deeper in his throat, and Niall starts thrusting his hips gently, enjoying the low murmurs Liam lets out. He's fascinating, to say at least. So innocent looking from the outside, so filthy when he gets his hands on Niall.

The orgasm hits him, making his knees buckle, and Liam steadies him, his strong arms holding Niall's body up like a prized possession. Niall is aware of the fact that he doesn't deserve him. Liam’s too pure for someone like him, someone who still feels bitter that his best friend chose a stranger over him.

“I’ve never done such a thing before,” Liam confesses and pecks the tip of Niall's nose. “You bring out the worst in me, babe.”

“Do I?” Niall chuckles, caressing the soft skin of Liam’s bicep. He brings out the worst in himself as well, damn it. Here it goes. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“So you didn't drag me here just for a quick blowie? That’s unfortunate,” Liam smirks and licks the corner of his lip, still wet from Niall's cum. Shit.

“Would you be interested in a double date? My flatmate and his boyfriend, you and I, drinks, bowling.”

Liam smiles, fixing Niall's ruffled shirt, his fingertips tenderly brushing Niall's sides. “Sounds good, babe. You could've asked right away, though.”

“And lose a chance to fuck your mouth? No way!”

Liam’s face twists in a fit of giggles. “OK, fair enough!”

Niall’s going to hell for all this. He really is.

⌘

“Nailed it, baby!” Liam hollers excitedly after (again) hitting and knocking down all ten pins. Niall has to admit that his enthusiasm is the only reason this double date isn't a complete train wreck. Otherwise, it would be, thanks to Zayn who’s paying more attention to his phone and immaculately styled hair than to Harry and their game.

Liam encircles Niall in a hug and twirls him so easily as if he was a rag doll. Just then Niall notices Harry is frowning. The truth is, he hasn't been his cheerful self from the moment all four of them got here. If he was the competitive type, Niall would think he's taking bad that he and Zayn are losing, but Harry isn't like that. Something else is wrong.

Eventually, Zayn bails on them, complaining he's tired and leaves.

“I guess I’m gonna call it a day, too,” Harry states, finishing the rest of his drink. Liam, the good puppy he is, immediately shakes his head. “Harry, mate, stay with us. We can go against each other.”

“Li, we stand no chance against you,” Niall chuckles. “Literally zero.”

Liam blushes and pulls Niall to his side, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Then let’s do something else. We can play darts; I suck at those, big time!”

Harry looks away, not keen to spend time with them as a third wheel—at least that’s what Niall assumes. “I’m knackered, so you would win,” Niall lies, “I’m with H, bed’s calling.”

“Alright, you coward,” Liam smirks. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Harry.”

Harry manages a fake little smile and returns Liam’s handshake.

“What’s up with you?” Niall asks once they are alone, walking back home.

“Nothing,” Harry mutters. They are quiet the rest of the way, and Niall realises he isn't used to such deafening silence from Harry’s side.

But something happens in the bathroom when he's brushing his teeth. A touch that makes his skin burn, and a kiss that causes his heart skip a beat. Harry knows those two sensitive spots on Niall's body. The left hip right above V line. The other one behind the right ear.

Niall goes to bed confused.

⌘

Harry startles Niall the next day the same way, and Niall jumps at the contact. He can’t do this to him right now when Niall's trying to be happy with somebody else. He turns to face those striking green eyes with determination, but it dissolves pretty quickly. He can’t even be mad at him.

“Haz, what are you doing?”

“I’m so dumb, so fucking dumb,” he mumbles, brushing away the strands of curly hair from his forehead. It’s his typical nervous twitch, all too familiar to Niall.

“Harry, what's wrong?”

Harry takes a deep breath and grabs Niall's hand, intertwining their fingers. He's standing so close it’s dizzying, but Niall is too stunned to step away from him.

“I thought I would be fine with it. And I'm not,” he confesses. “Liam, he is…he's cool, I guess, though maybe slightly boring—,”

“Hold up,” Niall interrupts him, escaping from his grasp, “the date was your idea in the first place. Then suddenly you decide you gonna touch me even though you have a boyfriend. And since you've started the ‘who’s worse’ game, let me tell you, Zayn is a major fucking douche.”

Harry huffs, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. “That’s why I'm breaking up with him.”

“What?” Niall gasps.

“Seeing you with Liam last night, I realised I fucked up. I saw how he was with you, and just…I wanted, I want it to be me.”

Niall shakes his head. “You can't be serious. Why now, Haz?”

“Tell me you don't feel the same way and I’ll back off,” he says, closing the distance between them again. “Although, I think that you being mad at Zayn wasn't just because he's a dick. You’ve given a chance to Liam shortly after I started dating, while we both know you don't fancy him. No matter how fit and sweet he is.”

“Haz—,”

“I’m sorry I put you through this. I should've told you, but I thought you weren't interested in more than a casual stress relief shag, so I tried to move on.”

“No, I should've been the one to tell you,” Niall argues. “You never were a stress relief toy for me and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. You're my best friend, pet.” Niall takes a deep breath, heart thudding in his chest so hard he can almost hear it. Maybe more than a friend.

“I guess I'm not a good friend if all I can think about is kissing you and telling you I'm in love with you. That’s not what friends do, right?”

Most probably not, Niall thinks as he cups Harry’s cheek. He knows what he has to do.

⌘

Liam takes the break up with grace and says he isn't surprised. “I may look like an idiot, but I have two eyes and a heart. Go get your boy, Ni.”

And he does.

#my writing #narry #oneshot #fwb

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