Work Text:
Christmas, unfortunately, is looking pretty bleak for most. The whole country has come to a standstill – motorways have been closed, airports brought to a halt and government warnings have been spread across the country. And considering its Christmas Eve tomorrow, people aren’t too pleased about it. Family plans have been ruined and they won’t be seeing any loved ones soon, not until this dreadful storm stops and the five feet of snow disappears. The people swarming the airport are the ones who tried to risk it anyway, despite the warnings to stay put and keep safe at home or in hotels. They’ve barely made it to the airport, only for their flight to be cancelled after their arrival and the halt of all traffic around outside. And that’s the atmosphere that the whole place has – there’s a strong feel of disappointment in the air which is highly contagious.
But Niall is immune to it apparently, as he talks animatedly with a little boy to his left. Niall and Harry decided to settle on the nicest looking bench they could come across, considering all the comfier seats are occupied by` flustered mothers and their screaming kids, by frustrated men in business suits barking down their phones. They’re surrounded by complete mania, by bored teenagers on their phones and tablets and young girls crying, looking at the flight board and the scattered cancelled lights covering the majority of the screen. But none of this seems to even faze Niall, not even the phone call he had with his brother Greg to only lay the table for four people tonight.
Niall was due to fly back to Ireland, to spend time in his childhood home with his parents and Greg, his wife Denise and their gorgeous little boy, Theo. Harry, on the other hand, was off to LA to party it up. They were two different people in every aspect and yet they clashed in the best of ways. That’s how they hit it off, since their first year at London South Bank University. They’d made a truce to remain best friends ever since, their close relationship often mistaken for something more by people who didn’t quite know them. And maybe there was something more there, something that they themselves had yet to discover.
They shared a flat with three other lads; Louis, Liam and Zayn, the sensible bastards who’d left days prior to them to make sure they got home safe and sound. And maybe Niall would’ve gone too, but Harry couldn’t get the time off of work early enough, so he changed his plans to leave with his friend, the thought of leaving him lonely in the flat making him feel extremely guilty.
That’s how they ended up here, curled up close to each other to keep warm as people panic left, right and centre. Niall’s guitar case lies on the floor by his feet, next to their backpacks and belongings as he talks to the kid next to him and fiddles with the loose threads on his Christmas jumper. Harry had laughed earlier when Niall had emerged from his bedroom with it on, which only caused him to beam and do a twirl, Harry’s reaction exactly what he’d been hoping for. Harry had hugged him for the hell of it then, pulling him close and hooking his chin on Niall’s shoulder. The jumper was slightly oversized, too – Harry thinks it may have been Liam’s originally – and it swallowed Niall’s figure up, the bottom of it reaching Niall’s small thighs. It was a marvellous sight, something Harry’s going to remember over the holidays, thanks to the picture he snapped on his phone.
There’s a little girl sat next to Harry, picking at the skin around her nails and chewing them occasionally. She’s being well behaved, compared to the majority of the children scattered around the part of the airport they’re in. Her little legs don’t reach the floor so they swing, back and forth constantly as her parents bicker next to her, something about what food that Harry tries not to eavesdrop on. The little girl looks visibly deflated, scanning for something slightly entertaining to rid her boredom. Harry feels like he’s in the same boat, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. Niall’s not paying him the slightest bit of attention, but that’s okay. He knows that Niall gives all his attention to whoever he’s talking to.
The little girl notices Harry’s movement, glancing to her right for a split second before they land on Niall. He’s talking to the boy so vividly, crinkles by his eyes as he smiles and the boy is laughing too, leaving the girl to watch on in curiosity. Niall’s arms flail about as he talks, making up some silly story as he babbles excitedly, accent thick and standing out to people around them. Both kids watch on, Niall oblivious to the extra pair of eyes upon him until Harry clears his throat a little and Niall turns, glances at Harry until he nods his head in the girl’s direction and Niall grins, getting the message straight away.
“You alright, darlin?” He asks, accent thick and lively. The girls blushes and nods, but doesn't shy away. Niall is smiling so dearly, so warmly that Harry can feel it in his chest. “This is Thomas, I was just tellin’ him about the Christmas I almost set the kitchen on fire and we had to have pizza instead.”
And then he’s off again, talking about their first Christmas away from home at University, about how he’d insisted he be in charge of the kitchen. The electrics had blown and the meat was burnt, and Niall paid for everyone’s pizza. He left out the part here they’d gotten drunk on wine and Zayn’s bottle of bailey’s and how Harry and Niall had almost shared a kiss under the mistletoe until Liam and Louis had ran around the corner with nerf guns.
Niall has the little girl, Fatima, in stitches by the end of his story. They cry and tell him how silly he is, and he just shrugs bashfully, telling the kids that apart from the food, it was close to the best Christmas ever. He shares a secret smile with Harry, and Harry’s sure that the way Niall knocks their knees together is intentional.
Even Fatima’s parents have stopped bickering long enough to pay attention, smiling at Niall and how he so easily divides his attention to making the kids feel better. Fatima’s father puts his arm around her and pulls her close, and Harry just sits back and absorbs it all. He could sit here forever, he thinks, watching Niall in his element. Thomas soon draws attention to Niall’s guitar case on the floor, asking Niall with a toothy grin if Niall plays. Niall beams at this, and the kids watch in anticipation as he picks up the case and sets it across his lap, unclasps it and removes the guitar. Harry helps put the case back down on the floor and then sits back to watch what Niall does best.
“Any suggestions?” he asks whilst the pick is in his mouth, fingers fiddling as he tunes it, strumming it a few times as Thomas and Fatima seem to talk through shy smiles.
“What about ‘Let it go’ from Frozen?” Fatima answers, eyes hopeful as she leans forward in her seat. Niall pouts at her, an apologetic smile.
“’Fraid I don’t know that one, darlin’. How ‘bout… Santa Claus is coming to town?” He grins, laughing when Thomas almost leaps out of his seat and Fatima nods her head in agreement. He strums the guitar a few times, trying out the cords before he gets the hang of it and picks up the tune. He starts off with ‘you better watch out’, and then he’s full into the spirit, singing to Thomas and Fatima with such big smile that it spreads, spreads until people a few benches over are leaning forward to see what’s going on.
When he’s finished, the kids clap enthusiastically along with the parents and Harry can’t take his eyes off of Niall. There’s a pink blush creeping up his neck once he’s realised he’s drawn in an audience, nodding a thanks before Thomas is asking for another one. A kid opposite them leaves his seat to sit in front, followed by a young pair of twins who sit on their knees and giggle with each other. Niall shares a panicked look with Harry, so he leans forward and whispers “Jona Lewie, stop the cavalry” in his ear.
He starts by hitting his guitar to the tune, practically beaming when a mother bounces a baby on her knee and smiles at Niall. More kids appear after Niall’s gone through a few more songs, taking suggestions from the kids and a few from the adults – ‘Wham! Last Christmas!’ and soon enough, he’s caught the attention of everyone within a 10 metre radius. He’s on his feet now, as Harry sits back and watches with a fond smile. Niall looks back and grins, before dropping his voice down low and singing in a very purposely out of tune voice, “It was Christmas Eve, babe - ”
When Niall’s looking at him, hopeful and cheeky, Harry curses to himself. He almost looks away, but then Niall winks to him and sings ‘this year’s for me and you’. He’s about to finish the first few lines and Harry knows what’s coming up, goes back to that Christmas after polishing off Zayn’s bottle of baileys when he and Niall sung along to the Louis’ CD player. He gets up and brushes off his trousers and there’s cheers around that makes him want to pretend he’s just getting up to go to the loo. But Niall’s smiling at him, finishing off the line ‘When all our dreams come true…’
And then he’s strumming with so much enthusiasm, picking up the tune and everyone around them is clapping! It’s a sight, now he stands, can see everyone rows back standing and clapping along with grins on their faces. He joins in the singing on cue then, ‘They've got cars, big as bars, they've got rivers of gold. But the wind goes right through you; it’s no place for the old.’
Niall’s smile couldn’t get bigger, nudging Harry with his shoulder as he sings. They move on the spot, a fast kind of sway that has all the kids jumping up on their feet, squeals of laughter coming from every direction. And then people start getting on their feet and Harry feels a hand behind his back, being moved further forward until they’re both standing up on a wide bench and – wow. Everyone’s singing along, the place is so loud and Harry can see everyone in their area by the check in desk’s moving. People are stopping by, to get a look at the music. “You're a bum, you're a punk, you're an old slut on junk,” Niall sings in the best MacGowan voice, fitting right along with everyone trying to do the same.
“You scum bag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot, Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it's our last.” Harry laughs along with the crowd, glancing around and noticing some staff gathered to the side, smiles on their faces. The song sadly comes to an end and everyone cheers, trying to high five Niall and Harry and he almost feels famous, feels like he could do this forever. He’s never had the nerve to sing in front of others, but there’s something about having Niall there next to him that just sparked something.
“What next?” Niall shouts out, a little breathless, and there’s a tiny pause before a group of people are shouting “IT’S CHRISTMAS!” across the crowd, and Harry see’s all the staff shuffling about in their uniform before there’s music blasting from speakers and the cheer around them is almost deafening. The Slade song goes into full motion then, blasting thought the speakers as one of the older ladies in her uniform gives Harry a thumbs up. He’s got his hands on Niall’s shoulders next, gesturing him to put the guitar down. He does so, on the bench behind him, and then he turns straight back to Harry, singing loudly and grabbing his hands. He starts moving them, jumping around and Harry can barely sing for the amount he’s laughing. Niall spins him around, twirls him and pulls him in until he’s got one of his hands holding Harry’s own and the other on Harry’s waist, pulling them right together. Niall’s still singing loudly, swaying them back and forth as Paul McCartney’s voice is blasted from the speakers; cheeks flushed red from all the movement. Harry’s cheeks hurt from laughing at Niall’s silly faces and purposely out of tune singing.
They’re close to the end of the song when a cheer by the check-out desks erupts, cancelling out the music and halting the singing across the room. The cheering gradually gets louder and everyone’s hugging each other, at the sight of check in desk being opened one by one, staff filling their positions and half the flights changing from cancelled to ready to board.
Niall’s grip tightens on Harry’s hand then and he falls silent, smiling up at Harry and pulling him into a hug. It’s half hearted, Harry can tell, and he pulls back to give Niall a small smile. Everyone is still so loud around them, the room brightening because the blizzard outside had stopped without anyone noticing.
“Theo’s gonna be excited, not as much as me, though. Been months since I’ve seen him.” He says, looking down at where he still has Harry’s hand in his own. Harry can tell that he’s avoiding the subject, delaying their goodbye, but as Harry glances up at the cancelled that has remained by his flight, a smile appears and he squeezes Niall’s hand.
“M’gonna miss you,” Harry murmurs, using his other hand to tilt Niall’s chin up until their eyes meet. His eyes look sad and Harry wants to do nothing more than wipe the pout from his face. Niall doesn’t say anything back, physically can’t, because he’s not sure if the thumping in his chest is Harry’s heart or his own. His eyes just flicker over Harry’s features, the ones that he’s got so used to seeing every day. The one’s he doesn’t want to miss, not a single day. Harry’s hand is warm on his chin, and he’s so impossibly close that he could kiss him. It brings him back to their first Christmas, when they’d found themselves under the mistletoe, moments before the boys had barged around the corner.
But the boys are not here now. There’s literally nothing stopping them this time, no distractions, not even the rush around them. It’s just them. And when Harry takes the first move, cautiously placing his lips on his own, Niall wonders why they didn’t do this a long, long time ago. Harry’s hand is large on the side of his face, thumb brushing his cheek gently and Niall practically melts into it. There’s a groan at the back of his throat but Harry swallows it up as he kisses harder, more forcefully, taking in the moment and making up for lost time. Niall holds Harry closer, grabbing his hips from under the warmth of Harry’s jacket and holding him tightly.
“That was - wow. That was…” Harry trails off, smiling widely when Niall just blushes and buries his face into Harry’s neck. Harry wraps him arms around Niall and holds him closely, kissing the hair before he just closes his eyes and breaths in. Niall mumbles something then into the shoulder on Harry’s coat and Harry reluctantly pulls back and makes a face. “What?” he asks, kissing Niall once more because he can.
“I don’t want to leave you.” Niall mumbles, brushing Harry’s hair from his face, “It’s so fucking stupid that you have to go to LA.” He moans, letting out a huff of air after. Harry’s grin goes bigger then and he takes a step back, grabbing Niall’s hand and tugging him with him. “Harry, what’re you doin’, man?”
“You don’t have to leave me,” Harry beams as he starts pushing his way through the crowd, mumbling excuse me’s and sorry’s to those he passes. He’s sure a few people cheer when they see the pair, pat them on the back, but he pays them no attention until Niall’s yanking him to a stop.
“What do you mean? Harry, what’s going on?” Niall asks with a straight face. Harry can see the doubt there; see’s that he’s really trying not to work himself up over anything. So Harry stops and takes that step back towards him, immediately swooping down to kiss him again. Niall watches his face closely when he pulls back this time, eyes curious unsure.
“You still got that guest room in your house, yeah?” he smirks, playing with the collar on Niall’s shirt.
“No…” Niall arches an eyebrow, a smile playing at his lips that Harry misses. “Why’d do you wanna know?” Niall questions. Harry opens his mouth to speak but pauses. Did - did Niall not get what he just said? Was he not obvious?
Niall laughs then, throwing his head back in amusement as Harry pouts. He beams when he looks at Harry again, shakes a head at Harry’s foolishness and grabs his collar to yank him in for another kiss.
“S’good job my beds big enough for two then, isn’t it?” He mumbles against Harry’s lips before he kisses them again, and again, and again…
And if Harry’s knees get weak when Niall locks the door of his childhood bedroom behind them, well – only he needs to know that.