Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's close to 9 PM and the bus Niall's on is surprisingly filled with people like him, he presumes--all of them coming home from their work and offices, with probably the same tired eyes and the dreaded feeling to tuck theirselves in their duvets to shut those eyes for hours before they wake up and do the same routine all over again. Niall knows that feeling all too well; that's how he is right now as he stands with his feet apart, his hand gripping on the rail above him tightly, giving the support he needs so he won't tumble over when the bus halts to a stop.

He had the toughest week at work, with the lined-up presentations and paperwork stacked so high on his desk. What he didn't need to end a week so rough is to embarrass himself by falling down and causing a domino effect of people in the bus. The thought made Niall cringe and his hand gripped on the railing even tighter, his knuckles turning pale. Paranoia. It's in his blood.

The bus halts to a stop and Niall hears the familiar squeak of the door opening to let more people in. He takes a peek through the window and notices he has two more stops before arriving to his. It's still quite a long way, not that it's some sort of bother. Niall's short leave starts tomorrow so he doesn't feel the need to rush getting home so he can sleep early and wake up early for work.

Although, sleeping early is what he needs right now. The bags under his eyes are horribly evident and rather dark. It's embarrassing.

He leans his head on his forearm and shuts his eyes close. As he said, he still has a few more time to spare before the bus stops at his stop. His phone is dead so he can't use the time to play or check on his messages, so he decides to take a short nap.

Niall's head is already embracing a really good dream of croissants, different colored macarons and him seated at a table with those umbrellas in the middle, outside of a café in Paris, when he feels a tap on his shoulder, alerting and waking him up.

"What is it?" Niall lifts his head and turns it slowly to the side to see what the person wants. He's meet with a pair of pretty green eyes studying his face intently like it's a work of art on display. Maybe he's staring at Niall's eye bags, questioning how dark and deep they are. But his face is quite too amused. What's so amusing about eye bags?

They're staring at each other too long for it to be normal and Niall notices this, so he clears his throat and repeats his earlier question, but more softly and weakly than before, or rather than he intended to.

"Sorry, mate," the lad speaks up, shaking his head. Oh, and he's British, his accent thick and his voice rather deep. "I swear I'm not hitting on you or anything, but you smell really good."

Even at his sleepy and tired state, Niall can't help but laugh, his soul awakening a little thanks to this lad standing before him. Niall just now notices the curls peeking below the bright blue beanie he's wearing. His eyes then goes down to study the now flustered face of the stranger. The British lad's cheeks turned bright pink, his mouth is agape, and his eyes are wide; Niall's assuming he regrets saying what he said to him, a total stranger, and is now deeply uncomfortable. Niall can't say he feels the same. 

"Excuse me?" Niall says, still recovering from his fit of laughter due to the cute stranger's statement. Yes, he's rather cute with his sparkling eyes and his smile. Niall can't help but notice his jawline. It's evident, the kind you would want to trace with your finger or tongue all day. Niall notices he has stopped laughing and his face had completely zoned out. 

"I said you smelled good," the lad mumbles under his breath with his head down, his feet shuffling beneath him.

Niall shakes his head and smiles. "Thanks for the compliment, mate. It's been a long time since a guy on a bus flirted with me." Not once did that happen to him, though. Mostly, the people hitting on Niall were ladies. Really beautiful and fit ones, if Niall's being honest. But he never flirted back; he simply wasn't interested.

The lad rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatedly. It seems that he's said what he will about to say a few too many times already, and he's grown tired of repeating it. Niall's about to stop him and tell him he's only teasing but the lad licks his bottom lip, which Niall can't help but stare at with dilated eyes, and says, "As I've said before, I'm not hitting on you. I have this agreement with myself to say nice things to 5 strangers a day. I make them smile with it and they make me smile as well. You're the fifth person I've complimented today."

"Well," Niall starts and sends a reassuring grin towards the lad, "that's mighty nice of you, mate. Do you mean those things you say, though? Do I really smell good to you?"

The lad nods vigorously and chuckles, "Of course I mean them. If I don't then this whole thing I'm doing is pretty pointless if I'm only lying. And yeah, you smell good, like vanilla, actually."

Niall's smile grows wider. "Well, thank you, then. What's your name?" 

"Harry," he extends his hand for Niall to shake and he does so gently.

"I'm Niall." Harry nods and Niall pulls his hand away to bury them deep in his pocket. "So, has any of the people you've complimented flirted with you?"

"What?" It's Harry's turn to laugh and make Niall look like a little girl blushing because a boy lifted up his skirt in front of the whole school.

"I mean, surely I'm not the only one who thought you were flirting with those compliments." Niall shrugs and tries to hide the pinkness of his cheeks by pretending to scratch them. He's sure he's only making it more red than it already is.

"Ah, yeah," Harry chuckles again before looking at Niall with a grin, sending Niall butterflies in the stomach.

Woah, hold on there.

"I usually just walk away after they say thank you, so there's not much time for them to say something back."

"Why haven't you walked away from me, then? I've said my thanks already." Niall can't seem to stop himself from embarrassing himself more. He blames his tired and sleepy state. It's like he's drunk and can't control what comes out of his mouth, so here he goes asking questions and making it seem like he's not liking this at all. He can't say that he doesn't, though.

"I can't walk away until we get to my stop," Harry says and purses his lips. "Sorry about that."

"No, no, it's alright. I like your company," Niall blurts out in a rush, shaking his head vigorously. He sees Harry's face lighting up and a mischievous grin appearing on his pretty face. "I mean, it's nice talking to you. You seem rather nice and what you're doing, with the complimenting strangers things, yeah, that's nice of you."

"Are you flirting with me now?" Harry tilts his head to the side, smiling at Niall like he's won the lottery or has discovered something that will change the whole world.

Niall rolls his eyes, his cheeks feels so warm despite the cold weather. "I'm really not."

"Okay," Harry says simply, though his tone and his eyes says otherwise.

"I swear, I'm really not, okay? Get that thought out of your head, lad." Niall scoffs and looks away. He can feel Harry's eyes looking at him. At the corner of his eye, he can see Harry smiling at him fondly. "Do you not want me to flirt with you, though? If I ever do."

Niall doesn't really know if he could flirt with Harry. What if he isn't gay? Then this whole conversation is just embarrassing on Niall's part.

"Well--"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, just ask the nice lad for a cup of tea, Niall. There's no reason for dilly-dallying and making this conversation longer than it should," the old lady whom he offered his seat to complains, eyeing the two with a pointed look. She then smiles warmly at them before waving her hand dismissively, gesturing for the two lads to continue whatever they were doing.

Niall can't help but laugh as he locks eyes with Harry, the crinkles by the side of his eyes appearing. He still doesn't know if this lad in front of him prefers guys over girls like Niall does, but it doesn't hurt to be friendly and ask him for a cuppa. And that would really make the old lady be at peace. "Would you like some tea then at my place?"

Harry nods. "I'd love to."