Archive of Our Own

­Maybe You’re My Snowflake

Harry Styles loves snow.

Albeit, he’s never actually seen snow in person before, but he knows he loves it.

He remembers watching lots of Christmas movies as a kid, even in the middle of July, marveling at the thick glittering blanket of white covering everything from rooftops to mailboxes.

“Mommy, why doesn’t it ever snow in Homestead?” he had asked his mother one day, sticking his fingers into the batch of cookie dough she had prepared.

“Because it’s too hot, honey,” she had told him, “And keep your hands out of that bowl or else you won’t get any cookies when they’re actually ready.”

Scrunching his nose at her, he had licked his fingers clean and gone back to watching The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.

He started making paper snowflakes when he was nine.

His friend, Alex, had taught him during recess.

“Harry, you’re making a mess!” Anne had exclaimed when he’d first grabbed a pair of scissors and a stack of paper.

But he kept cutting regardless, unfolding the piece of paper to show her the intricate design he’d cut out.

“Look how pretty it is!” he exclaimed.

Annie couldn’t help but smile. “It’s beautiful,” she’d admitted.

“And every single one of them is unique, mama. Even the real ones!” he told her, his eyes wide with wonderment.

Truth be told, Anne Styles never really understood her son’s fascination with snow. Every spare moment he had, he’d be cutting out snowflakes. He’d hang them up in his room, stick them all over his schoolbag, and there would be a fresh pile of them in the kitchen every night.

But he did his homework and cleaned his room and always helped Anne with dinner. So, she didn’t see it as a problem. It was a phase, it would pass. Children went through phases like this. That was what Harry’s teacher had told her too.

It didn’t.

Harry first asked her to take him to see some snow when he was eleven.

“Can we go somewhere where it snows for Christmas, Mom? I really want to see it!” he had asked over dinner.

And Anne had tried to smile at him, but it came off more as a grimace. “I’m really sorry honey but I can’t get that much time off of work this year. Maybe next year?”

Her older daughter, Gemma, had glared at Anne as she lied through her teeth, but what was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell her eleven year old son that she couldn’t afford a vacation, that just getting by was hard enough.

And Harry had nodded, going back to his spaghetti and meatballs.

But they didn’t end up going the year after, or the year after that.

When Harry turned fourteen he finally understood why they couldn’t go. He understood that his mom worked hard enough, sometimes too hard, just so they could live a comfortable life. He understood him mom was doing the best she could, so he’d stopped asking.

It was when Gemma started at Miami Dade College that Harry had finally gotten the idea.

“Mom, I want to go to college in Missouri,” he announced one night over dinner.

Anne had dropped her spoon. “Missouri?!”

He nodded into his bowl of tomato soup, not having the courage to look her in the eye.

“Harry, that’s like four states away! Why-why don’t you just go to Miami Dade like your sister? That’s a good school and you can stay at home,” she offered instead.

With a gulp, he finally lifted his head to look at her. “I-I know. But I really want to go to Missouri.”

Her eyes were stretched wide with disbelief. “Why? Why do you want to move that far away?”

His eyes fell back to his bowl of soup, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “It snows there.”

And after what felt like an eternity of silence, Anne had confessed. “I--We can’t afford that.”

With a deep breath, Harry lifted his head again. “I’m going to try for a full scholarship. I’m going to work really hard so you don’t have to pay so much. And I’m going to get a job.”

And Anne had looked at her son, at the determined look on his face and the perseverance in his words, a small tear escaping her eyes.

“Well then, alright. If you can get a full scholarship, you can go to Missouri.”

--

It’s in his hand. The rectangular envelope addressed to a “Mr. Harry Styles”, the one with the blue Webster University stamp on the left hand corner.

His hands are trembling.

“Just open it!” Gemma urges, looking over his right shoulder.

He huffs at her in irritation. ‘Just open it’. As if it was that simple.

“Sweetie, do you want me to do it for you?” his mom offers over his left shoulder.

He lets out a shaky breath. “No—no. Just give me a second.”

This piece of paper holds the one thing he’s been working towards every day for the past four years. It decides his future, his life. This piece of paper, folded so neatly into a crisp white envelope, holds his happiness.

“I swear to god, Harry,” Gemma threatens and he finally decides to just go for it.

Starting from the left corner, he slips his fingers under the flap and begins to tear the seal. His heartbeat increases with every rip of the paper, and he pretty sure he’s going to faint.

He slips his hands into the package, pulling out piece of paper inside. With a deep breath, he quickly unfolds it and scans the page.

Gemma and Anne are holding their breaths behind him, waiting for the news.

“I GOT IT!” Harry shouts, leaping up onto the dining table. Gemma and Anne look at each other with wide eyes and grins that take up half of their face.

“Let me see, let me see!” Anne says, reaching for the paper in Harry’s hands.

He hands it over to her and watches as the two women huddle together, their eyes scanning the scholarship letter.

“Dear Mr. Harry Styles. It is with great pleasure I inform you that the Webster University Scholarship Committee has selected you to receive the Presidential Scholarship. You will receive full tuition beginning the fall semester of 2012!!” Gemma reads aloud, screeching at the mention of full tuition.

“I am so so proud of you,” Anne tells him, grabbing his hand to pull him off of the table and wrap him into a hug.

And after several more hugs and more than a few sloppy kisses from Gemma, they decide go out and celebrate.

Harry’s face hurts from smiling. He’s finally going to get to see snow.

--

Moving day is messy and confusing and tiring. His flight is at 7am in the morning so he has to get to the airport by 5am which means he needs to be up at 3am but fuck he can’t even sleep till 3 because he’s so excited.

So he doesn’t sleep.

Maybe on the plane.

But the plane ride is only two and a half hours long and truth be hold Harry is kind of scared of planes so he doesn’t sleep then either.

He’s really fucking tired.

The campus is packed when he gets there, with kids and parents hustling to and from cars with all their stuff.

Harry kind of wishes Anne and Gemma were there with him, but he gets it. Anne has work and Gemma is starting at her new job.

He also wishes he’d more some more thought into today because right now, he has no idea where he’s supposed to go.

He’s just starting to look around for someone when a blonde girl with a bright yellow shirt with the “STAFF” written across it in navy blue makes her way up to him.

“Hi, I’m Ashley!” she says, smiling so wide that it looks painful.

“Ugh, hi,” he greets back.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asks him cheerily. He wants to ask her how many energy drinks she’d had today but restrains himself. 

“Yes. Uhm, where is the Webster Village Apartments Club House. I have to check in,” he tells her.

“Oh! I can totally take if you’d like!”

And before he can say anything, she grabs his hand and starts leading him towards a building tucked away on the right hand side of campus.

By the time they get there, Harry knows that Ashley named her dog Heidi after Heidi Montag from the Hills and wow she’s actually obsessed with that show she’s watched it like five times over and isn’t is just SO weird how Heidi and Lauren don’t even talk anymore they were like best friends and that she really hopes that doesn’t happen to her and her best friend, who’s name is Livi by the way, short for Olivia who also loves the Hills but she liked Lauren better for some reason ugh who knows Livi’s a wreck but Ashley loves her anyway they pledged to the same sorority during their first year and that’s how they became friends and pretty much sisters because hello sorority sisters right? And this whole time, she never lets go of Harry’s hand.

Finally, as they reach the front of the building, Ashley takes a much needed breath.

“Well, this is where I leave you. Unless you need me to come inside?” she asks, looking up at Harry through her lashes.

“Erm—no this is great. Thank you so much! I hope you and your friend fare better than Lauren and Heidi,” he says, smiling at her.

“Oh. You were listening? That’s—uhm. Thanks,” she says, surprisingly at a loss for words.

And he leaves Ashley with a shrug and a wave, thanking her one more time.

Inside, there are a few makeshift desks there with people wearing the same “STAFF” shirt as Ashley manning them.

He looks around, spotting one with the shortest line-up and heading there.

“Hi, I think I’m supposed to check in?” he says, once he gets to the table. The guy working at the table is a very cute one, with cropped brown hair and warm chocolate eyes.

“Hi! Do you have your room assignment with you?” he asks Harry, smiling brightly. As he smiles, his eyes turn into little crescents and fuck it’s twisting Harry’s stomach into knots.

“Yure. Sure. Yes—I mean yes I have it,” he stammers, reaching into his bag to pulling out the piece of paper he’d remembered to print off last night.

The guy chuckles lightly at him. “Nervous?”

Harry huffs out a shaky breath. “A little.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly okay. I’m Liam, by the way,” the guy introduces.

“Harry,” he replies, handing the sheet over to Liam’s outstretched palms.

After checking over Harry’s papers and making some marks on his clipboard, Liam hands Harry a set of keys, a heavy envelope and some sort of key card.

“So those are your keys, one for your room, one for your building and one for your mailbox. Don’t lose them, they cost a ton to replace,” he warns Harry. “That keycard is your temporary student card, it’ll give you access to the dining hall and stuff until the actual student card office opens tomorrow. Make sure to go get yours made, the temp ones expire in two days.”

Harry makes a mental note and then nods. “What’s the package for?”

“Oh there’s a campus map, some information about New Student Orientation, and a code of conduct rule book,” Liam answers.

“Rule book?” Harry asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

Liam laughs at him again. “Wow, you’re really anxious. Just don’t set anything on fire and you’ll be fine.”

Harry shrugs, laughing along. “No promises.”

He leaves the Clubhouse feeling relatively happy and warm, hoping that he runs into Liam again.

West Wing, Floor D, Room 9. That’s his room assignment.

He briefly wonders what his roommate is going to be like, if they’re going to get along. He tries to practice an introduction in his head, something cool and friendly. He can’t get past ‘Hi, I’m Harry’.

But when he gets to his room, there is no one there. Just two sets of beds pushed against opposite walls and two decks facing away from each other. The walls are made to look like bricks, and he reckons they were originally meant to be white but time has changed that. All in all, it’s not much but Harry’s certainly not one to complain.

He unpacks his suitcase, making a mental list of all the other things like shampoo and toothpaste he needs to get. He pulls out a few Ziplock bags filled with a fresh new batch of snowflakes he’d just cut out a couple days before and sticks them up all over his half of the room. He puts a few framed pictures on his desk of Anne and Gemma, pulls clean sheets over his beds and rolls out his baby blue duvet with little snowflakes all over it.

After he’s done, he stands on the middle of the room to admire his work and smiles. It’s starting to feel a little homier.

He’s just thinking of heading to the bathroom for a shower when the doorknob starts rattling.

“The key’s not working,” he hears someone say behind the door. It’s not an American accent.

“Are you sure this is the right room?” a female voice, dressed in the same accent floats through.

Harry faintly recognizes it as Irish.

“West Wing, Floor D, Room 9. Yep, this is it,” the male voice says again.

“I’ll go find someone,” the woman says.

Thinking he should probably go help out, Harry heads to the door to unlock it when suddenly, it flies open and smacks him straight on the nose.

“Ma I got—OH SHITE!” the voice curses. Definitely Irish.

Harry’s vision blurs, the pain shooting up his nose and watering his eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. You alright?” a figure with a mop of blond hair moving towards him says.

“Yeah, just a little blurry,” he replies, holding the bridge of his nose and blinking to try and restore his vision.

“Uhm, you should maybe sit down and close your eyes for a bit,” the voice says, leading Harry to his bed. He lets himself be guided, not wanting to trip over or bump into anything.

Harry closes his eyes for a bit, waiting for the pain to pass. The guy with the voice is kneeling front of him, one hand on his thigh.

“Can’t believe I hit my roommate already!” the guy says, laughing a loud and hearty laugh. “I was hoping that wouldn’t happen for at least a couple of weeks.”

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone laugh that openly before and it floods his stomach with warmth.

“I think I’m okay to open my eyes now,” he says aloud, although not really sure why he’s giving out a warning.  

“Well, let’s hope I didn’t blind ya! College wouldn’t be as fun for you!”

Harry wants to chuckle but that’s going to hurt so he just slowly opens his eyes instead, praying that his roommate’s right.

As his vision comes into focus again, he finds himself staring into a pair of wide, glittering blue eyes that are more beautiful than any snowflake he’s ever made. Feathery blonde locks fall haphazardly over the boy’s forehead and his skin looks so soft that Harry wants to feel it underneath his fingers.

“Snow,” he thinks for some reason.      

But maybe he doesn’t think it and says it out loud, because the boy tilts his head at Harry and repeats, “Snow?”

“I really like snow,” Harry blurts out, snapping out of his trance.

And he probably says it a little louder and faster then he meant to because the boy looks slightly taken aback by his outburst.

But starts he smiling and it’s so genuine that Harry’s heart flutters.

He sits on the floor, leaning on his hands and taking in Harry’s snowflakes.

“I can see that,” he says, nodding. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Did you make those?”

Harry is still trying to string his thoughts together. “Yeah. Yeah it’s like a thing with me.”

“Cool. Show me how to make one sometime?” he asks.

Harry beams back at him, grinning. “Yeah, sure!”

“I’m Niall,” the boy says, sticking a hand out towards Harry.

And Harry gladly accepts the outstretched hand into his, a warm current running through his body when they touch. “I’m Harry.”

--

Niall is in the middle of telling Harry about his major, Biological Studies, when a blonde woman walks into the room shouting, “Ta, Niall. You sent me half way across the school to look for help and you’re already in the room!”

“Ma,” Niall hastily says, “this is Harry. My roommate. ”

The woman finally seems to notice him and smiles timidly. “Oh, so sorry. I’m Maura. Excuse my son, he’s idiot. I apologize in advance that you have to live with him.”

“Ma!” Niall whines, and Harry can’t help but laugh.

“Hello, ma’am,” he greets with a nod.

“He’s in Legal Studies, ma, wants to be lawyer,” Niall gushes and Harry can’t help but blush.

He talks to them both for a bit, but then gathers up his toiletries and heads to the showers, figuring it’s probably best to leave Niall alone to unpack and say bye to his mother. Plus, Maura with her banter and the fond nagging, reminds him of a lot Anne so he decides to give her a quick call.

“Harry?” she answers after the first ring.

“Hi Mom. How are you?” he asks her, trying to not get choked up.

“Oh god you’re such an idiot. You’re the one that moved four states again, how are you? How’s the school? Did you move in okay?” she asks all at once.

“I’m great, just a little tried. The school’s amazing and everyone’s really helpful,” he replies with a fond sigh.

“How’s your roommate? If you don’t like him you can get it switched, right? Did they tell you anything about that?”

And Harry can’t help but smile as his thoughts wander to the blond Irish boy with the pale skin and twinkling blue eyes.

“Harry?”

“Uhm, no he’s great mom. He’s Irish, I think. He seems pretty cool,” he tells her.

“Alright then. Study hard and make me proud. But also, don’t forget to have some fun okay? You’ve worked hard to get there, so promise me you’ll blow off some steam,” Anne fusses.  

“Alright, Mom. Whatever you say,” he promises.

“Okay, I’m going to head home now. Call me tomorrow,” she tells him.

“Okay. Uhm--Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I miss you. A lot,” he admits, his throat tightening uncomfortably.

“Awh baby, I miss you too. So so much. More than you understand. But I’m also really glad you did this. I’m glad the rest of the world will get to see just how amazing you are, that you won’t be Homestead’s little secret anymore.”

Harry feels his eyes stinging a bit, and decides to hang up before he starts sobbing into the phone.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you,” he tells her quickly.

“I love you too.”

After they hang up, Harry can’t help but feel a little homesick. He’s glad, he really is, that he did this. But it’s hard.

With a heavy heart, he drags himself to the showers. They’re not as bad as he’d expected, as he’d been told communal showers were, so that cheers up a bit. He still wears shower slippers though because who knows?

He swings by the cafeteria to grab some food, thinking he should grab something for Niall too. It takes him forever to decide because he’s not sure what Niall would like, and ends up just getting two Ham & Swiss sandwiches.

The campus is still busy, the hustle bustle of moving still going on, but it’s quieted down a lot from the morning. He watches as hugs are shared between family members, as kisses are planted on wet cheeks, as the child waves to the car of the parent pulling away.

Harry walks around for a bit more, exploring the grounds a little, pulling out his schedule on his phone and making note of where most of his classes are. None of them are too far from his dorm, thankfully.

He looks up at the sky, the slightly chilly September weather reminding him that it gets colder here. He wonders how long it will be till it starts to snow. He hopes it’s soon.

It starts to get a darker so he decides to head back in.

When Harry gets back to his room, there is no light peeking under the doorway, which is a little weird because it’s only seven. He pulls out his keys, trying to remember which one are for this door. He guesses that Niall’s probably gone out with some friends.

Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. That he hadn’t wished they’d just spend tonight just getting to know each other. He’ll have to wrap up the sandwich and leave it in the fridge.

But when enters the room, the first thing he notices is that it’s glowing. The second thing he notices is that it’s glowing because while his side is still covered in snowflakes, the other half of the room is covered with glow-in-the-dark stars. They are littered across the ceiling and plastered on the walls, casting a warm glow through the entire room. And amid all of the stars is Niall, lying down on his bed and staring up at them.

“Harry, hi!” Niall shouts, pulling himself upright and turning on his bedside light.

“Hey,” he greets back, still distracted by all the stars.

“Uhm, yeah. So I really like stars,” Niall tells him, shrugging timidly.

“I can see that,” Harry chuckles, “I like what you’ve done with the place. Did you make those?”

And Niall laughs loudly at that, chucking a pillow at Harry. “You’re a lot cheekier than you look, mate.”

“You call it cheek, most call it charm,” he banters, tossing the pillow back.

“I think it’s more ‘I have dimples so I can get away with murder’ than it is charm,” Niall retorts.

“Shit, who told you about that? That’s supposed to be confidential information.”

And it seems that Niall never stops laughing ever because he’s in fits again; it’s so infectious that Harry’s hollering soon enough too.

That’s when Harry’s phone starts blaring “Flawless”, the ringtone Gemma set for herself despite Harry’s protests.

And he hasn’t got a clue how to change it.

“Ugh—sorry one sec,” he excuses himself, and Niall just nods, falling back into his bed and staring up at his stars.

“Hi Gem!” he chimes.

“Don’t ‘Hi Gem’ me. Why the fuck haven’t you called? Too good for us now, Webster boy?” she snaps.

“I was going to call you before bed. Man, I didn’t realize you missed me this much. I haven’t even been gone 24 hours.”

“Ew, shut up. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up in Canada, knowing you,” she retorts. “But actually though, everything good?”

He snorts at her. “No I actually I made it all the way to Switzerland. I’ve also decided to become a goat farmer.”

He hears her spit out something over the phone. “Goddammit Harry, you made me snort my soup. Hold on,”

Harry laughs at her, turning around to find Niall raising his eyebrows at him. Harry just smiles back and waits for Gemma to come back on.

“Fuck, okay so I spilled even more soup trying to clean this up. Mom’s going to kill me if this stains my duvet. I’ll call you tomorrow, dick head.”

Harry misses Gemma too. “Love you too,” he says.

“Yeah yeah. Hey listen, don’t forget to have some fun too okay? Don’t work so hard,” she tells him.

“Why does everyone think I’m against having fun? I have fun all the time!” he whines.

“Yeah, marathoning Christmas movies in March doesn’t count. Go have some real fun, kiss some cute boys, get a little drunk. Put that fake ID I got for you to good use. I went through some tough shit to get that.”

“Yeah, sure. I bet batting your eyes at Jimmy Shleger cause some real pain,” he says.

“It hurt my ego like a bitch. ‘Kay dumbass, I’m out. Peace,” she says.

“Bye.” And with a click, it’s back to just him and Niall.

As soon as he hangs up the phone, Niall’s on his case.

“Girlfriend?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry chokes on his own spit. “Oh my god, no! Sister,” he corrects.

Niall pouts. “Oh. Well that’s no fun.”

And Harry just laughs at him.

“So, sister huh? You two seem pretty close,” Niall observes.

Harry nods back, and that’s when he starts telling Niall about Gemma, which leads to him talking about Anne, and then about Homestead.

“Homestead? That’s in Florida right?” Niall asks.

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t snow there,” Niall says, shaking his head. And he doesn’t ask it, he says it, like a statement; but Harry nods anyway.

“And you moved here because you wanted to see the snow.” Again, it’s not a question. It’s almost as if there are gears clicking into place in Niall’s head without Harry having to say a single word to explain himself. But he nods again anyway.

And Niall just gives Harry one nod in return, shrugging nonchalantly like he gets it. And Harry thinks he actually does get it.

“You’re Irish, right?” Harry asks. And he actually asks it like a question.

“Sharp, aren’t ya?” Niall teases with a wink. “Yeah. ‘M from Ireland originally, but I moved here about six years ago with my family. Da got a new job, a really good one in Jefferson. I actually only live a couple hours from campus.”

Harry sighs. “That’s nice. I live only a couple hours too, but by plane.”

Niall scrunches his nose at him. “But you had to see the snow,” he says.

And Harry looks at him, straight into his pale blue eyes, trying to understand this boy. But there’s nothing but genuine interest and pure amiability reflected in them.

So he nods back. “But I had to see the snow.”

Harry goes down to lie in his bed after that, snuggling under the covers. His body is exhausted, he can tell by the way it melts into the bed; but his mind is wide awake.

They’re both quiet for a bit, a million different thoughts running through Harry’s mind as he tries to figure Niall out.

“You can just ask, you know,” Niall says all of a sudden, as if he can hear Harry’s thoughts.

“Uhm, what?” he sputters, a little freaked out.

“About the stars thing. You can just ask. A lot of people find it weird.”

And Harry can breathe a little easier again because that wasn’t quite what was on his mind.

“Why? Stars are so cool,” Harry says. 

“I know! But some people don’t think so,” Niall explains

“Well then, it’s those people that are weird,” Harry concludes matter-of-factly.

Niall laughs, agreeing with him. They’re silent for a bit again.

“My snow thing is weird,” Harry admits. It takes a little courage for him to get that out.

“Nah, I get it. I feel like you don’t ever get to pick what you’re passionate about. It kind of chooses you. So I get it,” Niall tells Harry.

And Harry thinks that Niall really does. Out of all the people Harry’s met in his life, Niall’s the only one that seems to. And it makes Harry’s heart swell up a little in his chest.

“Why stars?” he asks Niall out of curiosity.

Niall pauses for a little before answering. Harry reckons he’s thinking.

“They’re kind of the same everywhere, I think. I mean, yeah, different countries see different constellations depending on their latitude, but it’s all the same sky, you know? We all sleep underneath the same stars,” Niall tells him.

“Hmm, I’ve never really thought about it that but, yeah,” he agrees, thinking about profound that is.

“Yeah. I don’t know, moving from Ireland to America was a really big change. Everything was so different; I didn’t really know how to deal with it. But then I started noticing the stars and how the sky never really felt different. And that was kind of like people too, you know? They’re not really all that different. It really helped me deal with the move, and I kind of became obsessed with them in the process. Da even got a skylight put in my room after I spent an entire summer sleeping in the garden in a sleeping bag,” Niall tells Harry.

And Harry chuckles at that image, little blonde Niall refusing to sleep inside no matter how much Maura scolds him.

He reckons Niall doesn’t get to share this with many people because this almost seems like a confession, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.

“What’s your snow thing about?” Niall asks.

He contemplates this for a bit. He’s not ready to tell Niall the whole truth yet, so he opts for half of it]. “Uhm, every snowflake is different, unique, I guess. Kind of like people. Everyone is special, you know? That totally contradicts your stars theory though, sorry mate.”

“Nah. If you think about it, it actually complements it. Every snowflake is different and unique, but they’re all still made of the same stuff, right? With people it’s like that too; everyone shares in human nature, things they want or feel just because they’re human. But at the same time each person is also their own individual self. So people are similar, while still being really different.” Niall analyzes. “I don’t know if that makes sense, but yeah.”

Harry thinks about that for a while, about how he hates rocky road but Gemma loves it, and how she hates mint chocolate but that’s what Harry always gets. But every Thursday they each get a bowl and watch Chopped on Food Network together. He thinks about how Anne loves baked potatoes, and he prefers them mashed, but they still both love potatoes. He thinks about Alex, how she’s a girl and he’s a boy, but how they both crushed on Neil Mehta during junior year.

“No, that actually makes a lot of sense,” he agrees. “You’re like a full-on philosopher, aren’t you?”

And he thinks Niall just shrugged because he hears some ruffling. “When you spend as much time as I do just looking at stars, you get a lot time to think.”

He hums in response, still trying to wrap his head around the breadth of Niall’s idea. 

“So, what’s Homestead like?” Niall inquires.

“Hot.”

And Niall laughs again.

They spend the night like that, asking each other questions, and just getting to know each other.

Harry finds out about Niall’s brother, Greg, and Greg’s son, Theo. He tells Niall about Gemma’s boyfriend, Hunter, who isn’t half as tough as his name makes him out to be.

In the midst of conversion, Harry remembers the sandwiches and gets scolded by Niall for not mentioning it earlier. But then he thanks Harry and says that he reckons Harry is mind reader because he loves Ham & Swiss. Actually, there isn’t much Niall doesn’t like when it comes to food.

“You’re a good friend,” Niall tells him after polishing off his sandwich, and that floods Harry with happiness.

He never really had a lot of close friends growing up, just Alex at school and his next door neighbour, Nick. Kids were cruel in elementary school, making fun of Harry for his affinity towards snow. Then in high school, when his dimples starting setting deeper and his charm became recognized, it seems everyone wanted to talk to him. But by then he already had Nick and Alex, and with school and work and helping out at home, he never really had much time for anyone else.

But likes that Niall already considers him a friend.

And he wants stay up and talk more, he’s forcing himself to continue the conversation, but his eyelids keep dropping.

He’s half asleep when he senses someone throwing covers over him and turning off his beside light, but he’s too far gone to react.

Harry finally drifts off to sleep completely thinking, yeah, he really likes Niall.

--

When Harry wakes up, it’s past noon and he curses himself for not setting an alarm because he actually has a lot to get done today.

Even more surprising though is he finds Niall still huddled under his covers, fast asleep. Harry can just make out the tuft of blonde hair peeking out underneath the star dusted duvet.

He gets dressed quietly, remembering that he doesn’t even have soap and that he really needs to go to the store.

First, he heads to the student card office, which is a little hard to find even with the map. There are already students waiting there and line spirals around the front desk twice, so it’s a long wait.

“Name please?” a brunette with thick rimmed glasses working at one of the stations asks him when it’s finally Harry’s turn.

“Uhm—Harry Styles.”

She types something into her computer and directs him to one of the stools on the far side of the wall.

Shit. He’d forgotten about the ID pictures. He reckons he looks like death, not even having showered.  

Quickly, he tries to comb through his hair using his fingers and hopes he looks half decent.

He doesn’t.

Once he the girl hands him his ID, he stashes it in his wallet vowing to keep that picture hidden until the end of time.

“Excuse me, do you know where the nearest grocery store is?” he asks the same girl after he puts his wallet away.

She looks a little irritated. “There’s a Target on Kirkwood.” And he assumes that he looks absolutely lost because she rolls her eyes and adds, “Go to the bus stop in front of the Clubhouse and take the 68. It will take you straight there.”

He ends up finding most things on his list at Target except highlighters, which they’ve apparently sold out of. He decides he can live without those for at least a couple days.

While he’s out, he also picks up some milk and cereal, and using the fake ID Gemma got for him, a case of beer. Harry’s nervous about it, but the cashier doesn’t even give him second glance and he walks out fuelled with adrenaline.

By the time he gets back to his dorm, it’s almost six and he still needed to get his books.

He pushes that off till tomorrow, thinking about how he hasn’t talked to Niall at all today and he really wants to. Then he realizes how fucking weird that is because he didn’t even know the guy till yesterday.

Thankfully though, it’s not as weird as he thinks because as soon as he enters the room, he’s pulled into a hug with Niall screaming, “Hazza, I missed you!”

Or maybe they’re both freaks.

He pulls away to raise an eyebrow at the blonde. “Hazza?”

And Niall just grins his signature grin, shrugging. “I like it, it’s snazzy.”

Harry snorts. “And when was it that I was making my Broadway debut?”

Niall pouts back at him. “You don’t like it?”

“Not one bit,” he replies, shaking his head.

“Well, too bad,” Niall tells him, sticking out his tongue. “You’re my Hazza now.”

And that shouldn’t send tingles down Harry’s spine but it does.

“Oo, presents,” Niall shouts, looking at all the bags in Harry’s arms. “Bring me anything?”

And Harry smiles, slow and cryptic. “I did, but you’re not getting it anymore.”

And Niall’s eyes widen at him. “You little fucker. Fine, I won’t call you Hazza. What about Haz?”

Harry replies with a look of disgust.

“Fine. Boring Harry is it,” Niall finally gives in.

Harry smiles brazenly at his victory. “I got some beer.”

Niall face lights up even more. “Hell yeah! Best roommate award goes to you.” And then with a wink, adds, “Hazza.”

Harry just gives up, laughing along at his defeat.

--

They wait for a bit, deciding it should be at least nine before they start drinking. Niall gives up at eight.

“Fine,” Harry gives in, too. Which he seems to do a lot of for Niall.

He rips open the case and pulls out two bottles. It’s just as he’s about to throw one to Niall that he realizes, “Fuck, I don’t have a bottle opener.”

“Shit, me neither.”

They both pause, trying to brainstorm what to do. Harry can’t come up with anything so he’s about to suggest just leaving it till tomorrow when Niall jumps out of bed.

“Let’s go ask one of our neighbours. It’s college, someone’s gotta have a bottle opener,” he suggests instead, and Harry decides that that’s probably a better plan. He’s got to meet his floor mates at some point anyway.

The first door they knock on is marked “Jeff and Dylan”. But it looks like neither Jeff nor Dylan is home because it’s not answered.

Niall shrugs and moves on to “Lance and Mike.” They’re home, but they don’t have an opener.

After a few more doors and still no luck, they’re both about to head back when they hear a loud crash coming from one of the doors at the very end of the hall.

Niall and Harry both look at each other with wide eyes, and before Harry can say anything, Niall’s already at the door and knocking.

Harry dashes to catch up, shaking his head at Niall. The blonde just grins in response. It’s labelled “Louis and Zayn”.They both wait.

There’s a bit of a scuffle and then a “Coming, just one second.”

And then another crash and a different voice yelling, “Louis, you idiot!”

Finally, the door swings open to reveal a boy behind it, his brown hair carelessly sporting a maroon beanie that looks like it’s about to fall off any second. He’s got piercing blue eyes, so sharp that it’s almost difficult for Harry to look straight at them.

“Hello. How may I be of service to you lovely lads?” he asks them. Harry can’t decide if that’s sarcastic or genuine, but Niall doesn’t seem to care way.

“Hi, I’m Niall. And this is Harry. We live a few doors down from you,” he says.

The boy just leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting.

“Erm—we were wondering if you had a bottle opener?” Niall asks, his voice a little higher than before. Harry accidently lets out a chuckle at that, regretting it immediately when the piercing blue eyes flit to him.

“What are you chuckling at, curly?” the boy snaps.

Harry can feel his face heating up. “Uh—uhm nothing. Nothing,” he squeaks. 

The boy narrows his eyes at him, but then thankfully, he smirks.

“Zayn!” he calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” another voice calls from inside the room.

“Do we have a bottle opener?”

“Uhm, not sure. Let me check!”

The boy shrugs at them. “My roommates checking. I’m Louis, by the way.”

“Harry,” he breathes out. Louis intimidates him.

Niall snorts beside him and Louis guffaws. “Yeah. The blondie just told me like a minute ago, remember?”

The tips of Harry’s ears burn with embarrassment and he wants to crawl into a fucking hole.

Suddenly, a raven-haired boy pops out from behind Louis. He’s got dangerously sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw line layered with a couple-days-old scruff. A pair soulful hazel eyes stare back at him, framed with lashes so thick and long they almost look fake. He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Hey,” his candy-pink lips are saying. “I’m Zayn.”

“Hi.” And that’s all Harry gets out. He’s never really been that great around cute boys.

Suddenly, someone nudges him on the ribs and he tears his eyes away from Zayn’s face to find that it’s Niall.

Niall returns Harry’s glare with a coy grin.

“Niall,” he says, nodding at Zayn. “And the speechless one over there is Harry.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you,” Zayn says, smiling a lazy smile.

He’s really fucking pretty.

All of them just kind of stand there after that, smiling at each other and not knowing what to say.

Well, everyone except Louis who Harry soon finds always has something to say. “Well, if everyone is done with the gawking, I have things to get back to.”

Zayn huffs at Louis. “Shut up, Louis. Don’t be such a dick. You have absolutely nothing to get back to except assembling a desk which would get done a lot quicker if you just use the fucking instructions.”

Louis rolls his eyes in response. “Real men don’t need instructions, Zayn.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m telling you to use them.”

Niall and Harry both let out a snicker which they of course regret because Louis is back to glaring at them again. “And what do you two need a bottle opener for anyway? Juice boxes have straws attached to them, you know.”

Obviously irritated, Zayn elbows Louis. “I’m sorry about him. He’s in a fight with his boyfriend and is taking it out on everyone else.”

And it’s almost as if Zayn said boyfriend to gauge a reaction, because Louis takes in a sharp breath and they both set their eyes on Harry and Niall, waiting.

“Eh, relationships. Just got out of one meself. They’re work,” Niall responds, running a hand through his hair. Harry feels a deep sense of relief wash over him. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Harry adds nonchalantly, figuring he should probably say something too.

And all of a sudden Louis hostility seems to melt away because he’s smiling, not smirking, but truly smiling at them.

“Whatever happened to that bottle opener, Zayn?” Louis reminds him.

“Oh yeah,” Zayn says, pulling something out of his back pocket. “Here you go.”

And then Harry gets an idea. “Do you guys want to join us? We’ve got enough beer.”

Zayn looks a little surprised at the sudden invitation, but Louis pipes up immediately. “Hell yeah!”

But Zayn grabs him by the arm before he can move. “You’ve got to clean this shit up, mate.” Looking at Harry and Niall, he says, “We’ll be there in fifteen.”

They both nod back. “Great! It’s room 9.”

It’s when they both get back into their room that they realize a potential problem.

“Shit,” they both say, looking at the snowflake and glow-in-the-dark star studded room.

“Well, if we’re going to be friends with them, they’re going to find out sooner or later. Better sooner,” Niall elects.

Harry’s not so sure. But Niall seems so carefree about it that he goes along with.

And he’s glad he does because an hour later and two beers in, they’ve set up a round of King’s Cup and Louis is asking Niall about the different constellations.

“The bear one doesn’t even look like a bear,” he’s complaining.

Niall laughs, his face starting to get red from the alcohol. “It does if you squint really hard, then shut your eyes completely and imagine a bear.”

Harry and Zayn both spit out their beer.

Louis tells them he’s in drama majoring in Theatre Studies and Dramaturgy and when Niall says that answers a lot of things, Louis just laughs in return, nodding.

Zayn leans close to Harry and whispers, “I think he really likes Niall. Otherwise, that bottle of beer would have been emptied over his head two jabs ago.” Harry makes a mental note to try and not piss Louis off.

Halfway through the game, someone’s phone starts blaring “Can’t Buy Me Love” by the Beatles and Harry’s a little surprised that it’s Louis’.

“Babe, come to my floor right now. I’ve made some new friends,” he hiccups into the receiver.

There’s some noise on the other end and Louis giggles. “Okay, maybe Zayn helped a bit. But they’re so much fun. We’re playing the something cup ugh—yeah, yeah King’s Cup, that’s it. Anyway, come!”

And with the smile that Louis hangs up the phone with, Harry reckons one, that the fight’s been forgotten about two, they’re going to be hosting another guest.

Louis seems to realize what he just did and courteously asks, “Shit. I hope that’s okay?”

And neither Niall nor Harry care.

About ten minutes later there’s a knock on the door and Harry’s surprised to find Liam, the upper year who helped him with registration, is behind it. 

“Liam?” he asks. “Shit, are we being too loud?”

Liam looks a little surprised too. “Harry, right?”

He nods in response.

“Actually, uhm, is Louis here?” he asks, laughing a little nervously.

“Oh! You’re Louis boyfriend? Huh.” And if Harry had been a little more sober, he would have not said it like that and definitely would have invited Liam in right away.

“Can I—uhm is it okay if I come in?” Liam asks a little awkwardly.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

Liam smiles as Harry moves out of the way to let him in.

“Lee-yum,” Louis slurs slightly, smiling.

“Hi babe,” Liam replies, pecking him quickly on the lips and taking a seat beside his boyfriend. “Got any more beer?”

Harry nods, looking at his almost empty case. He’ll get two next time.

“Know of any parties, Liam?” Niall asks hopefully.

“Nah, sorry mate. It’s NSO weekend so it’s just freshers and some volunteers on campus right now. Ask me next weekend though, and I’ll probably know of some,” he explains.

Louis nods vigorously too, even though no one asked him anything. “He’s very popular. Popular jock boy who everyone loves,” he coos.

Liam laughs at that. “Awh thanks, babe. I wish you were this affectionate sober. How many beers has he had?”

Zayn snorts back. “Like, 3.”

“Always the fucking lightweight.”

And they all get along well, but mostly Niall and Louis. Zayn’s a little quieter, but Harry appreciates that because it seems as though he’s more content observing than inputting. And it also makes a lot more sense when he tells them he’s an English major who might minor in Art.

Liam’s in Audio Production.

“So you’re like a DJ? Do you make mixes?” Niall asks.

Louis answers for him. “Big Payno. That’s his DJ name. He plays at the school nightclub sometimes.”

“That’s so cool,” Niall marvels.

Zayn ends up with the last king, although it’s not as bad as it could have been since they’re all drinking the same thing.

“You got off easy this time, mate,” Niall tells him and Zayn just smiles over the cup before he starts chugging.

They compare class schedules and Harry finds he has two with Zayn and one with Louis, but none with Niall. In fact, no one had any classes with Niall.

“Sciences,” Niall whines.

Louis shrugs. “What possessed you to go and take biological sciences anyway?”

“I need it to be an astronaut,” he answers.

Liam’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “You want to be an astronaut?”

And Louis huffs at his boyfriend. “Look at this fucking room, Liam. Did you think Niall was just scared of the dark?”

Harry giggles and realizes that he’s actually having a lot of fun. He’s going to tell Anne and Gemma, show them that he knows how to have fun.

--

The first day of classes start and Harry’s first one, Civilization and Arts, is with Zayn. And, surprisingly, with Ashley the volunteer from move-in day.

When she spots Harry, she flips her hair slightly and gives him a megawatt smile, which earns him a rather painful nudge from Zayn.

It’s also in this class that Harry realizes that one-on-one, Zayn isn’t all that quiet. And he’s also hilarious. They can’t stop giggling the entire session.

The first day turns into the first week and Harry also finds out that Louis’ very serious about his classes, not uttering a single word once their Creative Strategies lecture starts.

All in all, Harry likes all of his classes and most of his professors.

He calls his mom and Gemma almost every day. “And then Louis and Niall just start belting Spice Girls in the middle of the cafeteria. You have to meet them, they’re amazing.”

Anne just laughs and tells him how glad she is that he’s made such great friends.

Harry’s pretty glad too.

But, fuck, college is hard work. In high school, he could sometimes get his teachers to raise his grade slightly with some sweet words and a dazzling smile, but professors do not care about your dimples.

Niall, who out of the five of them is in the most challenging program, is also the one that studies the least. He’s always bugging Harry about going to the soccer match or dragging him to parties.

“Don’t you have to study?” Harry asks one day. He just receives a shrug and a ‘maybe later’ as an answer.

And they grow very close.

Niall always compliments Harry’s fresh batch of snowflakes, every morning without fail. Sometimes he’ll sit next to Harry and make some of his own.

And Harry will lie under the stars with Niall every night at 10, no matter how much he has to study, listening as Niall explains to him what a Nebula is.

They understand each other, understand each other’s needs.

Sometimes just a nod or a wink is enough to get a message across between them and Louis’ always whining about it.

“Look, they’re doing their weird telepathic thing again,” he points out almost once every day.

And him and Niall both protest, but Harry doesn’t mind to be honest. He hopes Niall doesn’t either.

Sure, Niall gets on with Louis and Liam more, and Harry is closer to Zayn, but their bond is an unspoken understanding within the group. Everyone knows that it’s NiallandHarry.

Anne even catches it over the phone.

“Do you two ever leave each other alone?” she asks Harry one day after having a lengthy conversation with Niall about pot roasts.

“No, why?” he answers, confused.

She laughs at him and yells something to Gemma that he can’t make out over the phone.

“Just curious. Okay, I have to go. Text me Niall’s number so I can tell him how the roast turns out.”

September bleeds into October and before he knows it, it’s midterm season.

Harry attempts study sessions with all four of them, but Louis talks too much, Liam doesn’t talk at all and Niall makes up for all the slacking he’s done throughout the semester by locking himself into a study room and only leaving for bathroom breaks. In the end, he fares best with Zayn.

“So are we not going to do our nightly star-gazing, then?” Harry moans when Niall informs him of his study plan.

An expression of bewilderment settles on Niall’s face and he tells Harry, “We never miss our star-gazing time.”

They shake on it.

Besides that though, Harry doesn’t see Niall much during those two weeks and he really misses him. Which puts him in a very sour mood.

Zayn catches on to it after Harry tries to start a fight over what chair he gets.

“What is your problem? You’ve been in a piss-poor mood ever since midterms started,” he complains to Harry.

Harry just mumbles something about being stressed and Zayn rolls his eyes and goes back to studying, leaving Harry to stew in his own misery.

“Zayn told me you were really stressing over mid-terms,” Niall brings up one night while they’re lying on their designated star-gazing blanket, staring up at the sky.

He just shrugs as a reply, trying to avoid the real reason he’s cranky.

“Well, either way, I got you something,” Niall says and Harry automatically perks up.

“What? What is it?” he asks excitedly, jumping to sit up.

Niall takes him time, slowly stretching and pulling himself upright, and Harry swats him with irritation.

“Fine, fine!” Niall gives him, and then reaches for his school bag that’s strewn a couple feet away.

With a grin on his face, he reaches in a pulls out something round.

At closer inspection, Harry realizes exactly what it is. “A snow globe?!”

Niall just keeps on grinning as Harry holds his hand out and he passes it over.

The snow globe has a charming log that’s decorated with Christmas decorations. There is even a Christmas tree beside the house. Harry gives it a little shake and watching as flakes of white ‘snow’ fill the glass sphere. 

“Just a reminder that once midterms are over, it means the end of October which is just that much closer to winter. And the snow,” Niall explains, biting his lip a little unsurely. “Do you like it?”

And Harry just stares at him, his heart beating so fast he’s scared he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“I love it,” he croaks, nodding absurdly fast. This little gesture fill his heart up with so much joy that he reckons it’ll cure his bad mood for at least a few days, if not the rest of the week.

“And,” Niall adds, “Liam got us all invited to this Halloween party a frat is throwing after exams so we can celebrate with style.”

--

“Halloween costumes are the fucking worst,” Harry complains one night during their star-gazing session.

Niall snickers. “Dress up as a condom. You’re a dick anyway.”

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” Harry asks, unimpressed.

“Ever since October started. But no one had brought it up so far,” Niall admits, still chuckling at his own joke.

They decide to go as pirates, and after letting the rest of the gang know, apparently they’re all going as pirates.

“I’m not sure the level of co-dependency in this group is healthy,” Harry says, sighing.

Niall shuffles closer to him on the blanket and throws an arm around Harry shoulder, pulling him into a side hug. “What’s the fun in healthy?

--

They end up in Niall and Harry’s room again, as they always seem to for some reason.

“It’s bigger,” Louis tries to reason.

“They are literally the exact same size, Louis,” Niall informs him.

“Okay, it seems bigger,” he tries again.

“I don’t care where we do it, as long as I don’t pay for all the beer again,” Harry inputs, and they all grumble in agreement that everyone will buy their own booze.

They somehow end up sharing anyway. There’s a lot of shots and they put Niall’s and Harry’s desk together to assemble a make-shift beer pong table.

By ten, they are well on their way to drunk. Louis can barely stand up and Liam is pretty much carrying him by this point.

The frat party is in full swing when they get to it, Liam introducing them to a whole bunch of people whose names Harry forgets by the time he’s done.

He notices at least ten cats and fifteen nerds in the crowd, and can’t help but laugh. Not that their costumes were any more creative.

“I’m going to find some more beer,” Niall shouts to them and leaves toward what looks like the kitchen.

Louis has dragged Liam off to some corner, probably to suck dangerous looking hickies into his neck.

“Why do they even bother going to parties if they’re going to spend the entire time sucking each other’s faces, anyway?” Harry asks to no one in particular. 

“Louis likes to show people Liam is his and I’m pretty sure Liam has a PDA kink,” Zayn speculates and Harry whoops with laughter, finding that he’s actually not that surprised.

“So…planning any excessive PDA of your own tonight?” Harry asks Zayn, waggling his eyebrows. 

Zayn just shrugs. “There’s this girl, Perrie, in my English Lit that's really cute and she said she’d be here so…hopefully,” he answers with a smug smile. “You?”

“Not anyone in particular,” he answers. “But hey, if opportunity knocks…”

“Perrie has friends you know. I’m sure we can figure something out for you,” Zayn promises.

And maybe it’s the alcohol in his veins that making him brave or maybe it’s that he knows Zayn won’t care that he blurts out, “I’m gay.”

Zayn looks a little taken aback with the sudden proclamation and Harry reckons he’s probably got the same look because he didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

“I’m sure she has some guy friends as well,” Zayn shrugs, Harry’s announcement not frazzling him in the least.

If Harry knew it would’ve been this simple, he would have done it a long time ago. And that’s what he tells Zayn.

“Why didn’t you? You knew about Louis,” Zayn rationalizes.

“Honestly, like a total of four people know and two of them are family members. I’m still getting used to it, I guess,” Harry admits.

Zayn tells him he completely understands, that it took Louis some time to get around having to tell everyone too, and that taking time is okay.

It’s not the best time or place to have this conversation, considering that they both have to yell over the music and Harry’s pretty sure everyone within a 5-foot radius of them have heard Harry’s sexuality confession. But it happened and now Zayn knows and even if that’s only one out of four down, at least it’s one down.

“Does Niall know?” Zayn questions out of the blue.

“Uhm, no. Why?”

Zayn almost looks pleased at that answer, a smug smile taking over his face. “I found out before Niall. I feel pretty special.”

Harry just smacks him playfully, feeling elated about how well the situation went down.

“Hey, that’s Perrie over there!” Zayn points to a blonde girl with round blue eyes that’s dressed in a Superwoman costume.

Harry spots a cowboy making his way over to her though, so he literally shoves Zayn towards the dance floor. “Go ask her to dance before someone else gets there first,” he advises.

Zayn looks so stricken that Harry can’t help but laugh. “I can’t dance, Harry.”

“Fine. Just at least go talk to her before that cowboy offers to takes her on a horse ride!” Harry yells at him over the music, and Zayn looks positively mortified as he makes his way to the dance floor. Thankfully though, Perrie seems return Zayn’s interest because she smiles as soon as she spots him, and the cowboy sulks away from the couple.

“Ouch”, Harry thinks. But he gets it. Zayn just has this face.

He turns away just as Perrie urges Zayn to dance and Harry decides that he’d rather not feel the second-hand embarrassment. He also wants to find Niall.

Making his way through this crowd is a lot of work. His “pardon me” and “excuse me” seem to fall in deaf ears and so just pushes and opts for a “sorry” instead. Better to apologize later than ask for permission before right?

He finally breaks through the throng and just as he can finally breathe again, he spots Niall leaning against the kitchen counter.

With his lips attached to another girl.

Harry feels a prickle on the back of his neck and his stomach churns.

Niall is Harry’s friend and Harry should feel happy for him, but he doesn’t.  Instead it leaves Harry feeling sick to his stomach and with a strange sense of determination to find a boy to press his own lips against.

Before Harry has a chance to give too much thought to his feelings though, someone taps him on the shoulder.

Turning around, he finds a pair of gray eyes staring back at him. As Harry expands his vision to include the rest of his face, the guy has jet black hair stashed under a beanie and deliciously plump lips. He’s got a pair of thick glasses resting on his face, and is dressed in contrasting colours.

“Arrr matie,” the guy teases, but by the look of utter discomfort on his face, Harry can tell he regrets it immediately. “I’m Dorian.”

Harry just stares at him, not really sure what is happening.

 “Your costume. I, ugh, like your costume. You, uhm, make a cute pirate,” Dorian stammers, looking horror-stricken.

Oh, he’s flirting.

Despite his lack of utter lack of sauve, Harry decides that guy is pretty cute. Suave is overrated anyway. Plus, he wants to show Niall that he can kiss cute people too. But that’s only because they’re roommates and it’s there is this friendly competition thing, right? That happens. So that’s the justification Harry settles on. Friendly competition.

Focusing his attention back on Dorian, he quips, “A Hipster Nerd liking something. Doesn’t that violate the parameters of your costume?”

The guy blinks at him in confusion. “I—I’m not wearing a costume. I didn’t know this was a costume party…”

And Harry is absolutely mortified. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I mean, I think Hipster Nerds are cool. I mean like not that you’re a nerd or—shit.”

Dorian laughs at Harry. “We’re not very good at this, are we?”  

Harry can still feel the heat on his cheeks, but Dorian’s smiling and doesn’t seem to hate him so he figures it’s alright.

“So, couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between you and your friend,” he says to Harry, nodding his head towards Zayn.

Harry chuckles lightly, “Yeah. As you can tell we’re very discreet.”

“I don’t know, I actually classify it as an excellent party trick. Let’s people know exactly what you’re interested in,” he tells Harry.

“And is that why you’re here? To let me know what you’re interested in?” Harry flirts blatantly, the alcohol making him a lot braver that he usually is.

Dorian leans in really close to Harry, and pressing his lips right against Harry’s ear, he whispers, “I’m interested in you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dorian’s got Harry pushed up against a wall and his lips pressed greedily against Harry’s.

Harry hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time so he indulges in it, runs with it.

“Give me your number,” Dorian breathes against Harry’s swollen lips, pushing his phone into Harry’s hand.

And Dorian’s a great fucking kisser, so he does.

Harry doesn’t remember how he gets home that night.

--

“Harry Fucking Styles!” someone shouts. It yanks Harry out of a blissful sleep and wakes him up with a racing heart.

“Fuck, Louis. What the hell!” he complains, tossing over in his bed to face the other way.

“No. Nope. Nope. You’re getting the fuck up and explaining to me why the fuck Liam had to pull you off some hipster dude’s lips yesterday,” Louis orders, and as if to prove his point, he yanks the covers off of Harry.

Shit.

“Louis, I am going to fucking murder you!” Niall yells from across the room.

“Actually, Niall. I have a bone to pick with you, too. Why the fuck would you not tell me?” he gasps in fake dismay.

Shit.

“Because he doesn’t know Louis,” Harry answers.

And now he knows he has no choice but to get up.

Huffing angrily at Louis, he makes his way to the bathroom, telling them both that he’ll be right back.

When he gets back, Liam and Zayn have both joined and they’re all lounging around, none of them saying anything. All heads snap to him in anticipation.

Harry decides it’s better if he just comes straight out with it, ripping it off like a band-aid.

He takes in each one of their faces, hungover and tired, and then Zayn’s, who smiles at him encouragingly. One last deep breath and then “I’m gay.”

It’s pretty anti-climactic actually because no one really reacts all that much.

“Now that clears things up. And nice one, Dorian is cute,” Louis approves with a wink.

Harry can feel his cheeks heating up

“Wait, who’s Dorian?” Niall asks.

Liam and Louis burst out in laughter. “Where the fuck were you last night, Niall?”

Niall just replies with a shrug. “I was…busy.”

Harry’s mouth sours at that and he tries his best not to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Louis dismisses. “And why don’t you ask the smooth criminal himself who Dorian is. Harry?”

All four pairs of eyes turn to him again, but only Niall’s are inquisitive. The rest of them are lit with amusement.

“I kissed this cute guy at the party yesterday. His name was Dorian,” he confesses with a blush. Niall’s eyes widen a little at first, but then he smiles a small smile at Harry.

“Kiss being the biggest understatement of the century. They were sucking each other’s faces off. I was actually worried that Dorian was going to swallow our Hazza whole at one point,” Louis reminisces with a snicker.

Thankfully, Liam comes to Harry’s rescue. “Shut up, Louis. You could barely stand up. You tried to pull this little Asian boy into our cab because you thought he was Niall.”

There are howls of laughter following that, and things settle back down.

The other three leave soon after, grumbling about hangovers and squeezing in some more sleep.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier? You know we don’t really care who you like,” Niall grumbles after everyone’s left.

Maybe because he’s still a little bitter about Niall kissing some other girl, he snaps, “Why did you just assume I was? I never said I was straight.”

Niall looks a little surprised at first, but then he tilts his head at Harry and just stares at him like he’s trying to figure something out. “No, you’re completely right. Straight shouldn’t be default, that’s actually kind of bullshit. I’m sorry.”

Harry feels like a fucking asshole. “Sorry for snapping, it’s just…early,” he tries to redeem himself lamely.

But Niall just grins back at him, “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, mate. Honestly. I’m sure it’s really hard. Just remember that you can tell me anything though, okay? If you need anything, I’m here. This sounds so stupid because we’re not in fucking high school anymore but like, you’re my best friend. I mean I love Louis and Liam and Zayn, but you’re my best friend, Harry. I love you.”

And that makes Harry’s breath hitch in a way it really shouldn’t.

“Thanks, Niall,” he says, not trusting in himself to say anything else beyond that.

“I’m going to hug you now, you fucking moron,” Niall announces before launching himself into Harry’s arm.

Even though its arse o’clock in the morning and Niall hasn’t gone through his morning hygine routine, he still smells faintly of his peppermint shampoo and Hugo Boss cologne. Harry wraps his arms around Niall’s small waist, pulling him in tight, breathing in that intoxicating concoction that shouldn’t work but does anyway because it’s on Niall.

They stay like that for a bit just holding each other, with Niall stroking Harry’s hair and Harry’s heart rate accelerating with each passing second.

“So, are you going to see Dorian again?” Niall asks, when they finally break apart.

Harry runs his fingers through his hair, trying to come up with a good reason not to and failing. “He was a really good kisser. And he seemed pretty sweet, but I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Yeah I mean, if you’re into him why not?” Niall encourages.

This nonchalance cuts Harry deeper than it should.

“Yeah, why not?” he repeats.

--

Harry is hounded as soon as he gets back from his first date with Dorian. They didn’t do much, just dinner and a movie, but his friends apparently want to know every single detail.

“Did he hold your hand?” Louis asks.

“Is he a better kisser sober than he is drunk?” Liam questions.

“When are you seeing him again? Are you seeing him again?” That’s Zayn.

Niall surprisingly stays quiet throughout the entire interrogation.

“Niall, don’t you want to know if he used too much tongue or not enough?” Harry jokingly asks him.

But Niall just shrugs at all of them and says, “Call me old fashioned but I think what happens on a date should stay between the two people that go on that date. I don’t think it’s fair to Dorian.” 

And that shuts everyone up.                                            

“But are you going to see him again?” Zayn repeats.

Harry’s eyes flick uncertainly over to Niall for some reason, who looks busy on his phone. “Yeah, I think am.”

--

Dorian asks Harry to be his boyfriend after their fifth date.

Harry tells him he needs a little more time.

--

After their seventh date, his friends start getting skeptical.

“Why hasn’t he asked you out yet?” Louis wonders out loud.

“It’s almost been a month…” Zayn adds.

“Maybe he wants to keep seeing other people?” Liam offers.

“Haz, dump him right away if he’s like that,” Niall advises with a look of disgust.

“No, neither of us are seeing anyone else,” Harry answers.

They all fall back into more murmurs and speculations.

Harry doesn’t tell them that Dorian’s already asked.

--

Zayn catches on first, of course. It’s a couple days after that conversation.

Harry’s just studying in his room when there’s a knock. He knows it’s Zayn right away because he’s the only one that does knock.

“It’s open, Zayn,” he shouts from his desk.  

“Hey,” Zayn greets as he enters the room. Harry gives him a quick nod and goes back to looking up definitions.

“Uh, I ran into Dorian today,” Zayn eases into the conversation.

Harry head snaps up right away, but he tries to play it off cool. “Oh yeah?”

Zayn’s stares at him with a calculating gaze. “We got to talking and he asked me if you were seeing other people. When I told him you weren’t, he asked if you’d talked to me about why you didn’t want to be exclusive with him.”  

Harry doesn’t say anything, pretending to be entirely absorbed in his textbook.

“Harry.” Zayn says in a definitive tone and Harry knows he can’t wiggle out of this.

Sighing, he marks his page and shuts his textbook, turning his chair towards Zayn.

Zayn blinks back expectantly.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry says almost rudely.

Zayn looks a little startled at Harry’s tone.

“Why don’t you want to be exclusive with him? I mean, are you even into him?”

Harry drops his head in his hands, massaging his temples lightly. “I don’t know. I just need more time, I think.”

“No, you don’t. You either like him or you don’t, Harry. You can’t just leave people hanging in the middle like that,” Zayn huffs at him.

And Harry knows that, he knows that he’s being horrible Dorian. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

--

“I don’t think this is working, Dorian,” is what he says. They’re at the campus coffee shop. Not the most private place, but Harry’s not sure how this is going to go so it was what he had decided on. At least he’s doing it in person (he suggested talking over the phone but Zayn had smacked him on the side of his head for that).

He’s sure he made the right call too because Dorian looks a little pissed off. “What?”

“I just don’t think this is working,” Harry tries again.

He watches uncomfortably as a look of anger dawns on Dorian’s face and he starts turning slightly red.

Dorian snorts distastefully. “Yeah no shit it’s not working. You’re not even trying to make it work.”

Harry looks at him incredulously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Dorian starts getting his stuff together hostility, not handling this too well. “It means that you need to wake the fuck up, Harry. Niall is straight. He’s never going to want you the way you want him!” And with that, he stalks off, leaving Harry to gape at what he just said.

--

Harry can’t stop thinking about what Dorian said.

Niall even notices that night they’re outside. “Hey, everything okay?”

And he’s nervous even though there is no reason for him to be. “Yeah. Great.”

Niall doesn’t push it, thank god. “Okay.”

“Dorian and I broke up. Or finished. Whatever, it’s not a thing anymore,” Harry tells him.

“Oh, Haz, I’m so sorry,” Niall consoles.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry answers, even though he kind of thinks it is. Or at least, Dorian thinks it is.

“Honestly, I thought he was kind of a dick anyway,” Niall confesses.

Harry’s stomach gives a little lurch. “Really? Why?”

“You had a thing going for like, over a month and he didn’t want anything more. If I were him, I would’ve locked you down after the first date.”

And Niall is obviously just trying to be a good friend but strange current runs throughout Harry’s entire body when he says that.

Niall reaches out and grabs Harry’s hand, gently stroking the top with his thumb. It’s meant to be a comforting gesture but it instead it just sends tingles up Harry’s arm and heats up his entire body.

The realization slams into him like a truck.

Harry pulls away from Niall’s grasp before he burns up. “I—uhm, have to go.”

Niall looks at him in daze. “What? Why? We just got here.”

Harry can’t feel anything else but the blood pounding in his ears. He needs to figure out what this is. “I have to go talk to Zayn.”

“About Dorian? You can talk to me…” Niall offers in a small voice. He blinks up at Harry, hurt clearly reflected in his pale blue eyes.

But Harry can’t think of anything else but one thought currently invading his mind and seizing his every nerve. “No, I—I really need to go talk to Zayn. I’ll see you back in the room.”

And with the way Harry dashes off without a second glance, it leaves Niall wounded and thinking that he’s losing his best friend.

--

Harry bursts into Zayn’s room without even knocking.

“Zayn. Fuck Zayn, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad,” he blurts as soon as he enters the room.

But clearly he didn’t think this through because although Zayn is there, so are Liam and Louis.

They all gape at him in surprise, startled by his dramatic entrance.

“Uhm, we can leave?” Liam offers, clearly understanding the situation.

Harry just stares at them, feeling like he’s going to burst any second.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take him to the outside, it looks like he needs some air anyway,” Zayn suggests instead and Harry just goes along with it because at this point he doesn’t even care.

They make it about three steps outside their building before Harry explodes. “I’m in love with Niall.”

Zayn doesn’t stop dead in his tracks like Harry expects him to, nor does he gasp in shock. Instead, he just says, “I know.”

At this, Harry is the one to stop in his tracks. “What?”

Zayn turns to face him, his face flooded with an expression of guilt. “I started to pick up on it after Halloween. Well, I always kind of speculated it but after that, after you told us you were gay, it just kind of started to make more sense.”

Harry still doesn’t understand. “How?”

And Zayn laughs at him brazenly. “Are you fucking joking, mate? You look at him like the sun shines out of his ass.”

Harry scoffs at him, offended. “I do not.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Harry figures Zayn’s probably right. He always seems to be.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” he whines at Zayn. “It would have been a lot less messy if I hadn’t had to deal with Dorian in the process.”

Zayn looks at Harry like he’s an idiot. “What would you have done if I told you?”

Harry contemplates this for a minute. “I would have denied it,” he answers truthfully.

“Yeah. And then when you finally did figure out that you were in love with him, you wouldn’t tell me because you wouldn’t want to be proven wrong since you’re a fucking idiot who thinks like stubborn five year old.”

And Harry laughs because that is exactly what he would have done.

“Fuck, what am I going to do now, Zayn?”

“Tell him.”

Harry sputters at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking insane?”

Zayn shrugs back. “Not particularly.”

“I can’t just tell him!” Harry cries.

“You won’t know if he feels the same way until you do.”

Harry shakes his head in disbelief. “Zayn, Niall is straight. He likes women. I am a man,” he spells out for Zayn.

“Actually, you’re a man-child but semantics,” Zayn claims, waving his hand dismissively. “And we think he’s straight, he’s never said. Niall gave us an entire lecture on heteronormativity the other day.”

Harry can’t help but smile at this, his heart warming. Of course Niall would talk to the rest of the boys about what he said, because that’s just something Niall would do.

But he has a good reason to assume.  “I saw him kissing a girl at the Halloween party,” he tells Zayn.

Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up. “The party you met Dorian at?”

Harry nods.

“You hooked up with Dorian at the same party Niall hooked up with a girl?” Zayn asks very slowly.

Harry’s eyes drop to the grass and he nods.

“Did you see Niall with the girl before you kissed Dorian?”

He nods again.

“You were jealous of Niall with another girl, so you went and kissed Dorian,” Zayn finally concludes.

Harry refuses to make eye contact with him.

“Firstly, Harry fucking Styles you can’t play with someone’s feelings like that,” Zayn huffs at him in disapproval. “And secondly, what did you think that meant? How did you not realize it then?”

Harry rethinks his decisions to involve Zayn in the first place. “I thought it was friendly competition.”

Zayn clearly gives up at, tossing his hands up in the air in frustration. “You. Fucking. Moron.”

He murmurs something unintelligently, not knowing how to respond because yeah, he was a fucking moron.

“Okay, so now what do I do?” he asks Zayn because right now, he really needs help.

Zayn purses his lips, leaning back into his arms. “Look, I think you should tell him because you don’t know how he’s feeling. I didn’t know pick up on your feelings until after you told me you were gay. Maybe Niall doesn’t realize it either, he's fucking oblivious too.  If you tell him, it may just be the push he needs,” Zayn explains.

That makes sense. In a logical, rational world that makes perfect sense.

“Plus, people fall in love with their best friends all the time. I think you guys are close enough that even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you guys will be able to move on from it,” Zayn adds.

And that’s exactly what Harry is stuck on. “But what if we can’t, Zayn? What if things don’t go back to normal? What if it ruins our friendship?”

Zayn pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “That may be a risk you have to be willing to take.”

That gives Harry his answer. “I’m not willing to take that risk, Zayn. I would rather be in Niall’s life just as a friend than not be in it at all. Our friendship means everything to me.”

Zayn smiles a sad smile at him, almost pitiful. “Alright. Well, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Harry nods.

“It’s going to be really hard, I’m telling you right now,” Zayn warns him.

“If it means staying in Niall’s life, I really don’t care.”

--

Zayn wasn’t lying when he told Harry it was going to be hard.

After realizing his feelings, it’s like Harry is walking in eggshells around Niall. He watches what he says, how to touches him, how he acts.

Niall obviously picks up on it. “Is everything okay, Haz?” he asks one day.

Harry tells him he’s fine.

“It’s almost December,” Niall points out trying to cheer him up. “Winter is coming.”

Between school and Dorian and dealing with his feelings for Niall, he’d completely forgotten about that.

Harry perks right up at the reminder of snow. “How early does it snow here?”

“Depends on the year. Sometimes as early as the first days of December and sometimes not till winter holidays start.”

Harry hopes it’s sooner than later, that at least the snow will distract him from the turmoil going on inside his head right now.

--

December hits and it starts getting a lot colder. Harry’s not used to it that much, doesn’t know how to deal with it so he spends a lot of time inside.

He also ends up spending a lot of time with Zayn, trying to talk out his progress.

“I don’t burn up so much when he touches me,” he tells Zayn proudly and Zayn shakes his head.

“Liar,” he accuses.

“Okay, fine. I’m working on trying to not burn up so much when he touches me,” Harry admits with a pout.

It’s kind of annoying how Zayn’s always right.

Zayn snickers when Harry tells him that. “I’m just perceptive, man.”

“So, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Zayn lately,” Niall brings up one night they’re under the stars.

They still do this, no matter how cold it gets. Harry will wear two jackets and three hats if he has to, but he always watches the stars with Niall.

“Yeah, he’s the most sane out of you lot. Doesn’t brave this cold and stays inside where it’s warm,” Harry says.

“Is something going on between you two?” Niall asks suddenly. Harry is so surprised he chokes on his own spit.

“What? No!” he sputters, looking at Niall like he’s insane.

Niall just shrugs innocently. “What? I was just wondering.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” Harry says conclusively, and goes back to charting constellations.

It’s something he’s started doing to, first, avoid looking at Niall excessively while they’re sitting under the moonlight and second, maybe learn something if he’s going to spend this much time on it anyway.

When Harry tells Zayn about what Niall asked him, Zayn doesn’t look fazed. “He’s jealous.”

Harry doesn’t even know what to say to his friends anymore. “You are all fucking idiots.”

--

Harry’s mood starts souring when it’s the middle of December and it still hasn’t snowed.

“It is really weird,” Louis says unhelpfully. “Maybe Mother Nature just isn’t happy with you, Harry.”

Niall comes to his rescue, like always. “Shut up, Louis. Don’t listen to him. This is actually better because then it means when it does finally snow, there’s going to be a lot of it.”

That makes Harry feel a little better.

Niall and Harry both get in the habit of checking the weather every night before they go to bed.

With finals coming up around the corner, coupled with the exhausting emotional stress Harry’s put himself in, mixed with the complete lack of snow leaves Harry constantly irritable.

And then, he gets the worst news ever.

He’s trying to make notes for his Creative Strategies class when Anne calls.

“Hi sweetie, how’s studying?” she asks him.

He groans in return.

“You’ll do great, I know it. Listen, I have to talk to you about something,” she says, her tone slightly off.

“Yeah?” he asks, worried.

“Uhm, it doesn’t look like you’ll be able to come home for the holidays, darling. My Christmas bonus didn’t come out to be as much as expected and the flights are really expensive.”

He only breaks down after hanging up with Anne, pushing in face into the pillow sobbing for what felt like ages.

Harry loves it here, he loves Webster, but he’d been really looking forward to going home. He would’ve gotten a break from school, from the shitty cafeteria food and from trying to supress his feelings every day. He was exhausted, mentally and emotionally, and he thought that going home for the holidays would just give him a much needed time apart.

Niall finds him like that, nose red and eyes puffy, a couple hours later.

“Fuck, Harry what happened?!”

Harry wipes his nose on the back of his sweater, not caring how gross he looks. “Can’t go home for the holidays.”

“Why?” Niall asks.

“Can’t afford the tickets,” he admits.

Niall comes down and lays down with Harry, spooning him. And he thinks he’s helping, Harry’s sure of it, but Harry can feel Niall’s cock pressed against his ass and it takes everything in him to subdue an on-coming boner.

“I’m so sorry,” Niall whispers, running his fingers through Harry’s hair.

They both fall sleep like that that night, Harry thinking about how much he likes this and how much he wants to kiss Niall.

--

A week later, Niall bursts into their room, eyes lit with excitement.

“Harry Styles, I have something to ask you,” he announces dramatically.

“What’s up?”

“What do you say about visiting Casa de Horan for the holidays?” Niall asks, biting his lip anxiously. “I mean it would only be for like, 3 days, because my parents have to drive us back the day after Christmas since they’re leaving for Fiji but like, you wouldn’t be alone for Christmas.”

And Niall looks at him with so much expectation and so much hope that Harry just can’t say no. Even it means spending the entire holidays fighting his urges and exhausting his heart. But he’ll get to spend Christmas with Niall and no matter how much of an emotional strain that is, it still makes him really happy.

“Sounds like fun,” he answers. With the grin that splits across Niall’s face, he knows he made the right choice.

Zayn disagrees.

“Are you fucking insane? Niall might be oblivious but his family won’t be.”

Harry drops his head in his hands. “I know. But I couldn’t say no to him Zayn, he looked to hopeful.”

Zayn huffs in disbelief. “Why are you putting yourself through so much pain, Harry?”

“It’s only 3 days. What could happen?”

--

In the midst of finals, still with no snow to distract him, all Harry can obsess over is his visit to Niall’s.

“What if they don’t like me?” he asks Niall.

Niall rolls his eyes at him. “What the fuck, Haz? They’ll love you. Everyone loves you.”

Expect you, he thinks bitterly.

It’s going to be a long break.

--

His last final finishes on the 23^nd and Harry can finally breathe a little better. Niall’s parents are supposed to pick them up that night, so they both head Zayn and Louis’ to say goodbye.

“We should find Liam too,” Niall says.

“He’s probably there.”

He is.

“Do you pay a third of the rent, Liam?” Niall asks him, and Liam blushes all the way to the tip of his ears.

“Anyway, me and Haz are going to head out. My parents should be here in a bit.”

They all go around giving each other hugs and wishing each other happy holidays.

Zayn leans into Harry’s ear and even whispers a “good luck.”

--

Harry’s already met Maura, but he meets Niall’s dad, Bobby for the first time.

“Evening, sir,” he greets, shaking Bobby’s hand firmly.

Bobby smiles at him kindly and Harry can tell right away where Niall gets his utter genuinity from.

“Thanks for having me,” he nods to Maura.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry. With how much Niall talks about you, it feels like we already know you. It’s our pleasure,” she assures him.

The car ride is only a couple of hours long and passes by in chit chat, with Niall doing most of the talking.

Harry just nods along, trying to figure out just how he’s going to spend so much time alone with Niall without kissing him senseless.

They pull into a cozy house decked with Christmas decorations. And strangely it looks really familiar.

“It’s so weird, I feel like I’ve seen this house before…” Harry tells Niall as they are unloading the car.

Niall hands Harry his suitcase, reaching in to grab his own. “Yeah, it’s the same one in the snow globe. Da got one made for me as a Christmas present one year.”

With that revelation, Niall leaves Harry in the middle of his driveway stunned and agape.

Running to catch up with him, Harry pants, “Why would you give me something like that?”

Niall blinks back at him, confused. “You were upset and I thought it would cheer you up.”

“But…” and he can’t think of anything else to say.

Niall chuckles at him, “Why are you acting so weird?”

And Harry can’t say “Because you can’t give me something that special and expect me to not make something out of it since I overthink everything because I’m in love with you” no matter how much he wants to.

Instead, he just mumbles something that isn’t an answer at all and runs into the house.

He steps inside the house, and it’s like he’s stepped into a completely different universe. A Christmas universe.

Garlands hang from most surfaces, some with twinkling gold lights and some with little red bows. There are wreaths decorated with painted pine cones and ribbons on almost every door and patterned stockings are dangling just above the fireplace. On the couches are festive throws and red and green pillows, each with a different impression on it; Santa, the reindeer, Christmas trees, and of course, snowflakes. Those ones are his favourite. And in the middle of all of it stands a large, seven foot Christmas tree adorned in white incandescent lights, ornaments and icicles glinting of every branch and with a beautiful angel figure topping it off. There are carefully wrapped presents underneath it, spilling out around the base because of the sheer amount of them.

Harry is left speechless. “This—this…” He swears he can hear Michael Bublé “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” playing softly somewhere in the background.

“Yeah, we start decorating November,” Niall tells him, laughing at Harry’s awestruck expression.

“Smells like--“

“Pine. Yeah I know. The lights on the tree warm it up so it releases the scent,” Niall explains.

“I feel like I’m in a Christmas movie,” Harry breathes finally.

“You mean you feel like a Christmas movie threw up on you no matter how fast you tried to run away?” Niall offers instead.

“No—I love being thrown up on. Wait, no I mean I—“ Harry stammers, but thankfully someone comes to his rescue.

“He means he loves them,” Harry hears someone call behind him. He turns around to find that it’s Maura.

“Yes, definitely. They are—this is—my god Mrs.Horan your house looks amazing,” Harry compliments and Maura smiles widely at him, her face lighting up.

“Well I’m glad at least some people appreciate it. Teach Niall some manners, will you?” she says, raising her eyebrows at Niall. Then, with another tut, she turns at her heel and walks away.

Niall glares at Harry, “You’ve been here for, like, less than a minute as they already like you better.”

Harry snorts at Niall. “Well, if you’re going to act like a prick, you’re going to be treated like one. Go apologize.”

Niall throws Harry his best offended expression. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

Harry just stares at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” he sighs with a pouting. Then with a wink, he follows after Maura shouting, “MA!”

--

After Niall apologizes and Maura forgives him with a kiss and some cookies, he comes back into the living room to get Harry.

 “Come, I’ll show you my room!” Niall says, grabbing Harry’s hand excitedly. He lets himself be guided by Niall, hoping that his palms don’t get too clammy with Niall holding them.

They stop in front of a large door that has red stocking with “Niall” written on it.

“I’m guessing this is your room?” Harry teases.

“It’s nothing special,” Niall prepares him, “but I have a skylight.”

Harry takes the liberty to open the door, entering into a room that’s got a ceiling entirely made of glass.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, looking at the amazing sight.

The room itself isn’t big. At all. In fact, all it fits in a dresser, a desk and a small single bed. Harry’s room at home is almost twice the size.

“Da said I had to take a small room if I wanted a glass ceiling,” Niall tells him.  

“Shut up. You are not complaining about this room,” Harry rules, shaking his head.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just giving you an explanation,” Niall argues.

“So anyway, you were supposed to stay in Greg’s room because he wasn’t supposed to come till Christmas Eve but now he’s coming tonight so you’re going to have to share with me,” Niall tells him.

Harry’s eyes flit over to Niall’s tiny bed that’s pushed up against the wall.

“I’m not quite sure both of us are going to be able to fit in that dwarf sized bed of yours.”

Niall laughs. “Wow, what a diva. I’ll make myself a cot on the floor, don’t worry.”

And Harry tries to protest because he’s obviously not going to make Niall sleep on the floor but Niall shuts him up by saying he’s the guest.

Harry doesn’t try to argue, he always loses against Niall anyway.

Harry walks around Niall’s room a little bit, exploring, stopping to ask him questions once in a while until they hear a car pull up in the driveway.

Niall jumps up from his bed, eyes lighting up. “They’re here!”

Harry giggles at him. “Well, you’re excited.”

“Obviously! Theo!” Niall tells him. Harry loves kids, he really does, but not as much as Niall seems to love Theo.

--

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he introduces himself to Greg and Denise, who he recalls from the pictures Niall showed him.

Strangely, Denise’s eyes light up and she smiles warmly at Harry. “You’re Harry? I didn’t know you were coming!”

He blushes at that for some reason. “Yeah, uhm, it was a last minute thing.”

Greg giggles at him for some reason, then pats him on the shoulder firmly. “We’re so so glad to have you.”

Denise and Greg share a look and Harry is sure he’s missing something. He looks to Niall for a possible explanation, but he’s too busy making faces at a little blonde kid in his arms to notice.

“And this is Theo,” Niall introduces, his voice all high pitched and cutesy.

“Hi there, mini-Niall,” Harry says to Theo because he looks exactly like a baby-version of Niall. The same twinkling blue eyes, pale skin, and the same golden hair, although his is natural.

“He does look like me, doesn’t he?” Niall perks up, obviously pleased at the comment.

Harry needs to control those damn butterflies in his stomach before one flies out of his mouth.

--

They sit down for dinner in front of a juicy looking pot roast (“That’s the recipe I gave your mum, Harry,” Niall says) and Bobby surprises them by offering up beer.

Niall laughs at Harry’s surprised face and says, “We’re Irish, Haz.”

He accepts the offer because maybe getting drunk will make him want to hold Niall’s hand less.

It doesn’t.

Long after dinner is over, Bobby is still pulling beers out of the fridge and Harry doesn’t refuse single one.

“To the end of finals,” he says and everyone toasts to that.

Maura and Bobby are both very friendly, and that lets him make a lot more sense of Niall.

Every time Harry looks at Denise, she’s grinning at him and it’s starting to freak him out.

“Why does your sister-in-law keep smiling at me?” he whispers to Niall at one point.

“She probably thinks you’re cute. Don’t blame her, you’re the one with those godforsaken dimples. Anyone can fall for them,”

And Harry would really appreciate it if his heart could to stop melting every time Niall makes comments like those because he means it as a friend.

“So how did you two meet?” Greg asks.

“They’re roommates, remember?” Denise hisses.

“Oh, right!”

Things like this keep happening, and he sure he’s missing something because Niall’s family keeps sharing these looks and smiles with each other without anyone even saying anything.

Thankfully, though, the beer numbs his mind and he finds himself not paying attention to it anymore. Instead, he can’t stop staring at Niall.  

His pale skin is turning deliciously red from the alcohol and he keeps giggling, making Harry giggle too. 

“’Kay, maybe it’s time for you two to go to bed,” Maura decides after Niall knocks over his beer bottle and makes a mess.

Harry is exhausted, more than happy to oblige.

“Thank you for dinner, it was amazing,” he slurs, taking Maura’s hand pressing a soft kiss onto it.

“Well, aren’t you just the most charming gentleman?” Niall teases, giving his ass a little smack.

“Try not to be too loud, please. Theo’s sleeping,” Denise says in a teasing tone, though Harry’s not sure what she’s teasing about.

That’s when he remembers what Zayn said. “Niall might be oblivious but his family won’t be.”

They know.

Now it makes all of it makes sense; the looks, the giggles. Shit, have they told Niall?

Harry feels his heart beat in his throat and he really needs to get out of there.

With rushed goodnight to everyone at the table, he dashes up the stairs. By the time Niall finds Harry, he’s in tucked away in Niall’s bed, staring up at the stars.

“Why did you run out of there so fast?” Niall asks him, blocking the door.

“I had to pee,” Harry lies.

Niall guffaws. “Okay, move over.”

Harry feels his hands go numb. “Uhm, what?”

“Move over. I want to watch the stars,” Niall says, giving him a little push this time.

His heart is racing. He can’t lie this close to Niall on his bed, not when his boner hasn’t completely gone away yet.

“You can watch the stars from your cot. The whole fucking ceiling is glass,” he tries to argue.

Niall doesn’t say anything for a bit. “I just—I wanted to cuddle.”

And obviously, Harry gives in because it’s Niall.

“Fine,” he grumbles, scooting closer to the wall the bed is pushed up against.

Niall gives a little squeals and shuffles underneath the covers, his right side flush against Harry’s left. He lies there like a soldier, hands against his side, careful not to touch Niall more than he has to.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Haz?” Niall complains, pulling Harry’s left arm up around his shoulder and tucking his head into the nook between Harry’s neck and shoulder.

Harry is just trying to remember how to breathe properly. In, out. In, out.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Can I borrow your iPod for the party tomorrow? I know you have all the best Christmas remixes.” Niall asks after a while.

“Party?”

“Oh, shit. I totally forgot to tell you. Yeah, we throw a little Horan family party every year for Christmas Eve. Some family from Ireland that are here, some friends. It’s really fun.”

Well, if he can get through that dinner, he can definitely get through a holiday party.

“Oh, cool.”

--

The next day, the entire morning and afternoon are spent preparing for the party.

Harry helps put up some (more) decorations, noticing that most of them are mistletoes.

Niall laughs while they do this. “It’s a hoot. Everyone spends the party tries to get any two people underneath one and sometimes the funniest pair. My Gram had to kiss one of Denise’s brother and Greg got stuck there with one of Da’s coworkers. It’s hilarious.”

They also help bake some cookies, Harry trying to decorate them with some elegance while Niall just loads them with frosting and ends up eating more than a third of each batch. Which is why they have to make over seven.

In the end, Maura ends up shooing Niall away, rendering him useless, and thanking Harry for trying anyway.

They spend the rest of the day playing fifa and with Niall telling him about some of his crazy relatives that Harry’s going to meet tonight.

“Aunt Coleen’s a class A cougar, so stay away from her. And Uncle Barry doesn’t wash his hands so avoid shaking them.”

But Harry can tell by the fondness in his voice that he loves all of them anyway.

“Okay, boys. Go get changed, it’s almost time,” Maura tells them around 6pm.

--

The party is in full swing by 7pm, and every time Niall seems to introduce him to someone, he is greeted with a “you’re Harry,” and coy smile.

It’s like yesterday all over again, but with twenty more people.

They drink eggnog that’s actually more rum than eggnog, but Harry is not complaining. The alcohol makes him loosen up, stops him from blushing every time he catches Denise pointing at him while talking to someone else.

His playlist is also a hit.

“This is the best music I’ve heard at a Christmas party,” someone who Niall introduced as Kevin tells him and Niall beams at Harry.

Every once in a while he hears some shout “Mistletoe!” and watches as the victims stare uncomfortably at each other for a good five minutes before one of them just launches forward and gets it over with.

Greg gets caught with Denise’s sister, Emily, and Maura with Denise’s dad, Paul.

It is actually quite hilarious.

Well, it is until him and Niall go to grab more cookies and all of a sudden Denise is shouting something at them.

“What?” Niall asks

“MISTLETOE!”

Shit.

“Uhm—I don’t think Harry should have to go through with this I mean he didn’t even know!” Niall tries to argue, his face flushing to the same red as the bows on the wreath.

Harry nods his head in agreement.

But no one is having any of it. “You helped put up the mistletoes. Should’ve been more careful if you didn’t want to be a victim,” Bobby points out.

“Doesn’t look like we’re getting out of this one,” Niall gives in. His voice says nonchalant but his eyes are manic.

“Okay,” Harry breathes.

“Let’s just do it.”

“Okay.”

And they stare at each other, his green eyes staring into Niall’s blue ones, and Harry all of a sudden forgets how to kiss.

“I can’t remember how to kiss,” he confesses in a whisper.

“What?” Niall hisses back.

“I—I can’t remember how to kiss.”

The blonde boy just blinks at him, not responding. Then with a “oh for god sake”, he launches himself at Harry, pressing his lips them firmly against his.

Harry instinctively wraps his arms around Niall’s waist, pulling him in and Niall responds by throwing him arms around Harry’s neck, pushing deeper into the kiss.

Harry’s entire body is burning, a current running from his lips all the way down to his stomach. He gets lost in the kiss, in the feeling, kissing Niall being something he wanted to do since the very first day of school.

Someone coughing is what pulls them out of the trance and back into reality, and they jump apart just as quickly as they as jumped together.

They stand there sheepishly, Harry expecting everyone to be gaping. But instead, they’re all just smiling small smiles and Denise says, “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it boys?”

With that, the hustle and bustle starts again, everyone returning to what they were doing, picking up their conversations.

Well, everyone except Harry and Niall.

“I—uhm. We—“ Harry stammers, and Niall is looking everywhere but at him. “Bathroom.” And he gets out of there as quickly as he can.

Then he spends the rest of the night avoiding Niall like the plague and drowning himself in the “eggnog” (which is just rum, like c’mon).

The hard part comes at the end of the night, when everyone starts leaving, Harry is well into a drunken state, and he remembers he still has to share a room with Niall.

“Well, the eggnogs gone to my head. If it’s okay, I’m going to head to bed,” he announces, when there is only a handful of people left.

Niall still avoiding his gaze and Harry decides he’s going to pretend to be asleep when Niall does come in the room. They have to talk about it, he knows, but maybe tomorrow. Maybe he can have just one night of pretending that he’s still going to be Niall’s friend.

Everyone says goodbye to him, and he even hugs Maura and Denise.

And just as he’s about to leave, Niall says, “I’ll come with you.”

Shit.

--

They don’t say anything as they’re heading up the stairs. Harry can feel the tension in the air, the awkwardness. He curses at himself for ever saying yes to spending Christmas at the Horan’s.

Once they get inside the room, Harry figures that he should apologize, maybe just brush it off as Niall being attractive and not actually admitting anything. Yeah, that’s a good way to play it.

He finally looks at Niall, who in turn is staring at with such an intense gaze that Harry gulps.

“I—“ he starts to say, but before he knows it, Niall’s pushing him up against the door.

“Just shut up,” is all he says before pressing his lips against Harry’s for the second time that night. Another hot current runs down Harry’s spine, reaching the tips of his toes. The kiss is more frantic that before, hungrier. Niall runs his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip, sucking on it gently before slipping his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

When they finally put apart, Niall is looking at him with swollen lips and lustful eyes.

“Fuck,” he pants.

Then he’s on Harrys’ lips again, tugging at his hair, pressing against Harry’s body.

Harry can feel his erection growing, getting harder. Niall notices too because he pushes himself between Harry’s legs and grinds down, hard.

“Niall--“ Harry starts to say but that’s lost in a sinful moan as Niall squeezes his cock over his jeans.

“Is that okay?” Niall asks and Harry should say no, they should talk first, but he nods anyway.

Harry runs his fingers underneath Niall’s t-shirt. He wants it off, but he’s not sure how much he’s allowed.

“Take it off,” Niall urges and it’s hot, so fucking hot for Harry.

He flips them around so Niall’s the one pushed up against the door now, and he starts pressing kisses down Niall’s neck.

He shivers under Harry’s touch, but the soft moans escaping Niall’s mouth tell him it’s alright.

He hesitantly places his hands on top of Niall’s belt, not sure how far to go, but Niall bucks his hips and Harry takes that as a yes.

Slowly, he reaches down and strokes Niall’s erection over his jeans and it makes Harry’s cock ache even more because that erection is for him.

That erection is how much Niall wants him.

They stumble over to the bed, the tiny bed Harry’s sure at least one of them is going to fall off of.

Niall hands work at Harry’s belt while Harry’s shaking fingers try to unbutton Niall’s jeans.

They help each other out of their pants, tossing them to the floor somewhere.

Harry pulls Niall back up, nibbling slightly at his collar bones while the most shameful sounds escape his mouth with Niall slotting thier cocks together and grinding down.

Niall slips his hand under Harry’s boxers, grabbing the base of his cock and pulling it out.

He tugs on it slowly, pulling Harry towards an orgasm way too quickly than Harry’d like to admit.

His blue eyes stare into Harry’s green ones, holding Harry’s gaze as a familiar feeling builds in the base of Harry’s stomach.

“Fuck, Niall. Faster—please,” Harry begs, thrusting into Niall’s palms. Niall smiles deviously, slowing down even more.

That fucking tease.

Finally, he starts speeding up, not letting Harry’s gaze escape his own.

“Come for me, babe,” he says huskily and that’s all Harry needs before he’s spilling all over Niall’s hands and onto his stomach.

“Shit,” he pants and Niall just smiles, satisfied with himself.

“Your turn,” Harry tells him and Niall nods back eagerly.

Flipping them over so Harry’s on top of Niall, he gives Niall a quick wink before pushing himself down so he’s between his thighs, smiling at Niall’s tented boxers.

“I’m gonna suck you off now,” he tells Niall and smiles at the way his blue eyes darken.

Harry starts by pressing hot kisses into Niall’s hipbones, hooking his fingers over top of the elastic band of Niall’s boxers. One quick tug and Niall’s hard cock comes free, coming to rest against his pale stomach.

He breathes in sharply, another shiver running down his spine.

He takes Niall into his mouth, opening up his throat so he can try to fit as much of it as possible.

Niall lets out a low moan above him. Fuck, he’s starting to get hard again.

He sucks slowly at first, grabbing Niall around the base and feeling him squirm under his touch.

Niall’s fingers reach down and tangle themselves in Harry’s curls, tugging.

“Fuck,Haz—you’re really good at—at this,” Niall pants, whimpering with every tug Harry gives him.

He builds up, a few short strokes and then a long to get as much of Niall as possible.

 “I think—ah fuck Harry I’m gonna come,” Niall warns, but Harry keeps his mouth right where is it, promising to swallow every drop.

He looks at Niall dead in the eyes, and he can tell Niall wants to watch, that he’s fighting to keep them open to watch Harry.

“Harry,” Niall gasps, his fingers in Harry’s hair tightening as he throws his head back and lets the orgasm roll through his body. Harry sucks him through it, wanting to make is as good as he can, and he comes straight into Harry’s mouth.

After he’s finished, Harry wipes his lips on the back of his hand and slides back to press some more kisses into Niall’s lips.

They lazily kiss for a little longer, but they’re both exhausted.

“Mmm, you’re good at kissing,” Niall mumbles, tucking himself into the crock of Harry’s shoulder.

Harry just laughs, stroking Niall’s hair and staring up at the sky.

And then Niall says “I missed you,” completely out of the blue.

“What?” Harry asks, a little confused.

“Uhm—nothing,” he tries to dismiss

“No. Seriously what are you talking about?” Harry pushes.

“I just—I missed you. You spend so much time with Zayn nowadays, you know? Maybe now you’ll spend more time with me.”

Harry stops stroking Niall’s hair, a cold shiver running down his spine.

“Maybe I’ll spend more time with you now? Why?” Harry asks very slowly.

He feels Niall’s breath slow down. “Well, we can kiss now. And stuff.”

Harry jerks his arm out from underneath Niall, feeling like someone just poured a bucket of ice cold water down his back.

“Did you—Niall you just do this to what—steal me away from Zayn?”

“I—uhm—”

He jumps out of bed, feeling like he needs a shower or maybe fifty.

“Is that what you think? That you need to sleep with me to make me want to spend more time with you? Is that the kind of person you think I am?” Harry feels the blood rushing in his ears. It feels like someone stabbed a knife through his heart.

“No! Harry what—“

But Harry isn’t listening anymore. He grabs his pants of the floor and reaching for any other shirt he can find.

“Where are you going?” Niall asks once he realizes that Harry’s is putting his clothes back on.

Harry’s eyes are stinging and there is a lump in his throat.

“I don’t know, anywhere but here!” he croaks, trying his best not quiver.

“I thought—didn’t you like this?”

Harry just stares at him, pain and rejection clear on his face. “No. I am in love with you Niall Horan and you just used my feelings to get your way. I am done.”

Niall starts to say something but Harry doesn’t want to hear it. He flings open the door, running down the stairs and out into the cold night air.

Everything hurts.

He hears someone come after him.

“Harry! Harry, stop!” Niall is yelling behind him.

But he can’t. It feels like his hearts been stomped on, run over, and he really can’t talk about this right now.

“Harry, please!”

And it's the desperation in Niall voice that makes him stop. Here he is again, always giving up for Niall.

“What?” Harry cries, turning around to face him. “Are you not through yet? Do you want me to drop to my knees and suck your dick right here?”

Niall looks horrified. “Will you just—you know what your fucking problem is, Harry? You think you know everything. You think you’ve got everything and everyone figured out when in reality, you know nothing,” Niall yells, looking irritated.

“Are you saying this is my fault?” Harry spits in rage.

“Yes. Because you don’t fucking listen.”

And Harry can’t believe a word of what he’s saying. “Fine. I’m listening now. Say what you have to say but I’ll bet you it won’t change anything.”

Niall looks at him, “Not even if I say I’m in love with you?”

Harry just stares. “What?”

“I, Niall Horan, am in love with this stupid idiot named Harry Styles. And if you’d just fucking listened for another minute or two before, I would’ve told you before going through this dramatic fucking scene.”

And Harry can’t breathe.

“I’m in love with you too,” he says.

“Good.”

With that, Harry presses a kiss against Niall’s lip, soft and sweet.

And maybe it’s Mother Nature’s way of approving because as soon as they pull apart, something soft and white lands right on top of Niall’s nose, melting right after the contact.

Niall’s eyes widen when he realizes what it is. “Harry, it’s snowing,” he whispers.

Harry snaps his head towards the sky and yeah, there are thick white snowflakes descending gracefully towards them.

“Holy shit, that is so fucking weird.”

--

The morning of Christmas they open gifts with Harry and Niall shyly throwing looks at each other.

Niall opens Harry’s gift and smiles so big Harry’s heart drops. “You got me a star?” he gasps, reading the piece of paper in his hands. 

Harry shrugs back, smiling. He's just glad Niall likes it. 

Niall’s gift to Harry is in an envelope. “Please tell me you didn’t get me money.”

The blonde just grins back. “Open it.”

It’s two tickets to Homestead.

“I know you really wanted to see your family, and, like we still have 2 more weeks off and I'm totally inviting myself over but I've always wanted to go to Florida,” he rambles, cheeks flushing pink. 

Harry wants to kiss him right then and there, but refrains himself because they haven’t told anyone yet.

They spend the rest of the day in Niall’s room, watching the snow fall from his bed. 

"It really is beautiful. Is it everything you thought it would be?" Niall asks.

And as Harry watches the alluring snowflakes float down, shimmering as the sun's ray glint of their surface, he decides he's ready to tell Niall the truth. 

“Remember when I explained my fixation with the snow to you?” Harry answers with a question instead.

“Yeah, cause it’s unique,” Niall recalls.

“I lied.”

Niall waits for Harry to go on. He loves that. He loves that Niall doesn't hound him or jump to conclusions ever, just lets Harry take his sweet time.

He loves Niall. And that's why he knows this is right.

With a deep breath, Harry admits something to Niall that he hasn’t ever admitted to anyone else before. “It’s my dad."

At this, Niall turns his head to look at Harry. But Harry just stares ahead because he's found the courage now and he doesn't want to lose it staring into Niall's blue eyes. 

"I always watched a lot of Christmas movies. They made me feel really happy and warm. But when Christmas came around, it never felt the same."

Harry knows Niall watching his mouth, listening to every word very closely like he always does. 

"I used to think it was the snow, since it never snowed it Homestead. It was weird; I felt like I was missing something my entire life, you know? And I was so sure  it was snow that I convinced myself if I filled my life with it, made enough paper snowflakes and put up enough snow trinkets around my room, I wouldn't miss it so much. They helped at first, it took over a lot of my life, but then it was never enough. Then I started believing that I needed to see the snow for myself, touch it with my own two hands. That's when I became obsessed with coming to Missouri." 

Harry feels Niall slip his hands into Harry's, and Harry squeezes in response. 

"Then, during Junior year we had this Awards night for students that did really well in school or sports or whatever. We got an invitation for it in the mail. And it was addressed to a Mr.Styles and Mrs. Styles. I thought it was weird because why would they address it to me? That's when I realized that it was mean for Mr. Styles as in my dad. My dad that was never around, my dad that was missing from my life. And that's when the gears started clicking into place, when I realized what I really wanted." 

Niall starts stroking the back of Harry's hand with his thumb. "I'm so sorry, Harry." 

Harry's heart feels so much lighter. "Thank you." 

"Why did you still come all the way out here then?" Niall asks him. 

Harry turns his head to face Niall, to look at his beautiful face. "My dad lives a few hours from Webster." 

Niall's eyes widen. "Are you going to go see him?" 

He turns his head back to the sky, watching the snow flakes for a bit again before deciding, "Snow isn't as great as I made it out to be, I think." 

And Niall understands. 

"This might sound really insensitive but I'm kind of glad you were obsessed with snow. That's what brought you to me." 

And Harry understands. 

--

Niall tells everyone at during the Christmas dinner.

“I think Harry is my boyfriend.”

And Denise snorts out her champagne.

“You think?” Maura asks, her eyes lighting up with amusement.

Harry tells Anne and Gemma when he calls her to wish her a Merry Christmas.

“Also, I’m dating Niall.” He hangs up the phone before she can freak out.

They tell the other three over Skype. It’s anti-climactic because it seems as though everyone already knew.

“I told you to tell him earlier,” Zayn sighs.

Niall nods his head. “You should have told me earlier.”

“Shut up you fucking twat, you should have told Harry sooner,” Louis yells, the sound more unpleasant when it’s over a computer speaker.

“Well, you told each other, that’s all that matters,” Liam says.

Niall and Harry both look at each other, smiling. “Yeah.”

--

So yeah, Harry Styles loves snow.

But Harry Styles loves Niall Horan just a little more.