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The familiarity of being nestled up with a good book brought such happiness to Harry’s Friday nights. And yeah- maybe he didn't like to drink and party like the other idiots his age, but why did that matter? He was happy with his routine and content being alone on the weekends in his flat with nothing but his duvet and some tea.
But his friends on the other hand, thought he was completely mental. And that's why Harry is stuck walking down the cold London streets on his Saturday night. Because of course Perrie had to guilt him into "being productive” and “finding a fit lad for once”. So Harry finds himself wandering down the streets feeling less than eager to go to some dingy bar.
And Harry vaguely realizes as he's strolling through the streets that he doesn't even know of any bars, and he's just about to turn around and go home when he sees a dimly lit sign catches his eye. Upon further inspection he decides that the main street bar seems somewhat acceptable (he’s hoping). He walks in and scans the bar, finding that there are a sizable amount of people his age. He hops in a bar stool, and lamely, orders water. Harry was never one to drink- thinking not having control over your body and vomiting nonstop the next morning is not worth the buzz. He feels the screech of a stool being dragged out and sat on next to him; he peers over and sees a (fake) blond with big blue eyes and very pink lips. The boy must be his age, give or take a year. And the boy, well to be blunt, is extremely hot. Harry quickly averts his eyes when he realizes he’s been staring for far too long.
The boy orders a pint, and his voice, oh god, his accent is Irish for fucks sake. And Harry feels at that minute he will pass out of sexual frustration. Something about an Irish accent is just unbearably attractive to him. Then the boy is looking at him with those big blue eyes and suddenly Harry’s shirt feels too uncomfortable and the room feels too hot for a December in London.
“Are you okay, mate?” The blond asks and he sounds so concerned and Harry wants to kiss him.
“Yeah- uh yeah I’m just a- new to this whole bar thing.” Harry stumbles nervously. And afterwards he just wants to punch himself because god- Why does he have to be so fucking awkward?
The blond just laughs and Harry really wants to die because his laugh sounds like music for fucks sake. “Oh, I’ m Niall, by the way!” The blond smiles and extends his hand.
He shakes his hand and mumbles “Harry, m’ names Harry.” Niall laughs in a friendly way, and Harry feels an explosion of butterflies in his belly. “Why hello, Harry.” Niall smirks. Harry just blushes and smiles down at his lap.
“You don’t talk much do you?” Niall inquires. Harry just nods, and Niall explodes with laughter. People all around the bar turning their attention to Niall and Harry. Harry blushes at all the attention.
He hits Niall’s knee playfully “Hey, s’ not funny!” Harry tries to mock anger but just starts laughing along with the blond. After they both calm down Niall offers to walk Harry home with a small smile. And although Harry usually doesn’t accept offers from fit strangers he’s just met, something in Harry tells him that he should say yes to Niall. With a blush, Harry nods. Niall grabs Harry’s hand and leads him out of the now crowded pub.
As they exit the bad the cold London air is like a smack in the face. And Harry realizes belatedly that the flannel shirt he is wearing is clearly not enough to keep him warm against the nipping winter air. Harry feels an invasion of goose bumps prickle all over his skin, and his teeth start chattering obscenely. Niall clearly notices, and shrugs off his jacket and slings it over Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s heart swells and he feels like he is in a cliché American chick flick. “Are you sure? Aren’t you cold?” Harry asks. Niall just shrugs and says “Unlike you, you git I know how to dress for winter in London, so no I’m fine.” Niall bumps his shoulder against Harry’s and laughs.
They walk the rest of the way to Harry’s flat in a comfortable silence; the only sound is the harsh wind and the light chatter of London night life. When they get to Harry’s flat, well, Harry doesn’t really want Niall to leave yet. It sounds mawkish, but Harry could spend the whole night with Niall and still not be content. Harry wishes time could stop and freeze at this moment. He wouldn’t change anything about the night. Everything was perfect, from the bitter wind, to the run-down bar, to Niall’s laugh, even to the comfortable silence
“So…” I shifted back and forth on my feet awkwardly. Niall just laughed, “So… are you gonna kiss me or what?” Niall asked nonchalantly. And- well okay. Harry wasn’t planning on it, but he really does want to.
“Okay.” Harry whispers. “Okay?” Niall whispers back as he wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry nods and wraps his arms around Niall’s neck as Niall pushes forward and brushes his lips against Harry’s. And wow, he kisses short and sweet and Harry just wants to melt.
Niall pulls away and smirks. Harry just blushes just looks down towards his feet. Niall tilts his chin up and whispers “Hey.” And his eyes are shining and he just looks beautiful. So Harry smiles and whispers “Hi.” Niall smiles and says “God, you’re so shy and cute.” Harry blushes again. Before Harry can even reply Niall materializes a pen out of god knows where and writes his number on Harry’s arm.
He kisses Harry lightly and holds his cheek gingerly. “Is- this okay with you? Because I’d like to take you on a proper date, you know like dinner and a movie not like-“ Niall stumbles before Harry cuts him off with an excited “I’d like that.” Niall smiles triumphantly “Well, I’ll see you later.” Niall says excitedly, giving a short wave before turning around.
Harry looks down at the 10 digits written in curvy handwriting on his arm and smiles. Yeah, he thinks a date with Niall would be nice.