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"Hheeeyyyy!"
"Hold still, Harry," Niall chides, tip of his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the current task at hand: plaiting Harry’s hair.
"Are you done yet?" Harry harrumphs, getting impatient and taking on the role of a petulant child with each growing second.
"Shut up and wait, you keep moving my phone away! It’s distracting," Niall snipes lightly, phone showing a tutorial on hair plaiting-the first video straight off of youtube, really.
"Hurry up then, I want to see," Harry whines, wriggling his socked feet against the edge of the bed where Niall decided to sit themselves down on.
"You are an absolute five-year old, I swear," Niall mutters in bitter fondness, clipping up the last of the ribboned barrettes holding the braids in place with furrowed brows of utter concentration before patting Harry’s head.
"All done."
"Finally!" Harry sighs in mocked exasperation, lifting up a mirror he’s gotten in his hands ever since the idea came up.
"Get ready to be amazed," Niall joins in on the mocking, an announcer’s voice taking over his speech and a bit of a snigger laced in his tone.
Silence.
"You fucking idiot," is all Harry says, before Niall promptly gets swatted with a mirror of all things and full on cackles start slipping past the blond's lips in torrents.
"Bloody wanker," Harry sniffs, although there's a small smile playing on his lips as he watches Niall tumble to the duvet in a fit of laughter.