Work Text:
There’s a rapid, staccato beeping that wakes Niall with a start, almost knocks all his books off the table when he flinches awake. He’d fallen asleep on his keyboard, a long row of G’s trailing off after the last sentence he had written and an error message beeping from where his nose had been pressed against the keys. It’s almost midnight, the whole computer lab empty except for him and a janitor. It’s clear that the janitor is waiting to get to the spot Niall’s sitting at, a mess of candy wrappers and a few water bottles scattered around on his desk. He gathers his things quickly, stuffing his notes away and making a haphazard attempt to clean up, grabs two of the empty water bottles and gives the janitor a sheepish grin, chucks the bottles in the recycling bin on the way out.
The only other people out walking around at this hour are either drunk or making their way back from studying like Niall is. He can’t recall any night he’s ever walked around this late on campus and had been sober. He’s quickly realizing that leaving the library past midnight sucks, especially when his sugar rush is starting to wear off and his essay isn’t even finished. He only managed five pages of his seven page paper that’s due tomorrow at noon, some bullshit essay about Vlad the Impaler for his History of the Ottoman Empire class.
“Nialler, hey!” he hears, turns to see Ed bounding over to him, face flushed and bright. Ed grabs him around the shoulders without hesitation, smells like cigarettes and beer. “Was just heading over to Grimmy’s for a couple drinks, you want to come?”
Niall manages to work his grimace into a smile but can only muster up a shrug and, “sorry, bro, I gotta get home. Got a midterm paper due tomorrow.”
Ed pouts, cups Niall’s cheek and smacks it a little. “Niall Horan, actually writing a paper? In the library?”
Niall gives him a half-hearted laugh in response, shrugs him off and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he moves to turn away. “I’ll see you, Ed.”
Niall starts on his way home and encounters three more friends who give him similar invitations. He’s getting cranky and his patience is being tested by the time he sees James up ahead, swerves at the last minute down a shortcut through the woods so he doesn’t have to run into any more friends who will try to get him to go out drinking with them. It’s his own fault for going out on a Thursday night, really, with a paper due at ten the following morning. He’s trying to put together his concluding paragraphs in his head as he walks home through the forest trail, a few sparse streetlamps littering the path. He’s walked this way a thousand times during the day and stumbled home just as many times at night and usually drunk, but tonight he’s a little more on edge. It’s impossible that anyone could be following him but he can’t shaking the feeling that there’s eyes on him. He tries to ignore it, blames it on the fact that he’s writing a paper about the dude who Dracula is based off of, and spent an hour today reading about how people get impaled.
He’s just about to dig his headphones out of his bag when there’s a soft thud in front of him, jerks his head up to see a man standing on the path. Niall swallows down a scream because he’s too tired to scream, scrambling instead to get his keys in his fist. The guy was just in a fucking tree, there’s a leaf in his hair and Niall thinks, for a second, that the dude is drunk. He’s giving Niall a close-lipped smile, looks kind of like he’s expecting something. Niall does a quick mental rundown of what’s in his bag, just his notebooks, USB stick and his wallet, a wallet that has his IDs and about £12 in cash and Niall will be damned if this dude takes that from him. His brain is still trying to catch up with his body, adrenaline starting to bleed over when the man says, “Nice shoes.”
“Th-thanks…?” Niall trails off, politeness winning over exhaustion and the man grins, then, cheeks dimpling and white teeth flashing in the darkness.
Niall blinks hard, rubs his eyes and blinks again. There’s fangs in place of the man’s front canines, sharp and unmistakable even under the dim light of the streetlamps. He can’t find it in him to ask, this guy is one of those weird emo rave kids for all he knows. The guy is still smiling, sticks out a foot. “Do you like my boots?”
“Yeah,” Niall answers, and the man absolutely preens, offers Niall his hand.
“I’m Harry.”
Niall hesitates, flexes his fist that’s been clamped around his keys and stuffs his lanyard back in his pocket before shaking Harry’s hand. “Niall.”
Harry hasn’t stopped smiling, and every time Niall speaks he shuffles a little closer. Niall can’t stop staring at his mouth, now, at his fangs. They’re short and sharp, resting on Harry’s bottom lip and when it hits Niall that they’re real he takes a step backwards. Something like hurt flickers across Harry’s face for a second before his expression slides smoothly into something cooler, straights up and crosses his arms. “What? You’ve never met a vampire before?”
Niall barks a laugh because this has to be a joke, he’s tired, and in a moment of exhausted hysteria he asks, “so, what do you know about Vlad the Impaler?”
Harry’s smile is back and it’s kind of endearing at this point, enough so that Niall smiles back before rubbing his face again. “Look, Harry, it was nice to meet you, and good luck with your whole vampire thing, but I’ve got a paper to write--”
“I can help you!” Harry blurts, follows Niall for the few steps he starts to walk away. “With your paper, I mean. I could help you.”
Niall waves a hand but doesn’t answer, keeps walking and pretends he can’t hear the footsteps trailing a few feet behind him.
Louis isn’t home when Niall and Harry get back to the apartment, and Niall spends a few moments digging out his keys while Harry waits patiently beside him. “So, what year are you, Harry?” Niall asks in a sigh once it’s obvious that Harry isn’t going to leave, and Niall’s tired enough to not even care. If Harry was going to kill or rob him, he probably would’ve done it already. Harry hesitates with his answer as Niall gets the apartment door open, leads them both inside. When Niall turns to Harry, the man looks sheepish, hair pushed behind one ear and it strikes Niall again that this guy is a vampire, with fangs and, apparently, pointed ears. “Oh. Right.”
Harry just smiles again in response, steps through the doorway and flinches. Louis left all the lights in the apartment on and Niall goes through the living room and hallway turning them off out of habit, anyway, gestures for Harry to follow him to his bedroom. He turns on his bedroom light and Harry pauses again out in the dark hall, clears his throat. “Um. It’s kind of. Bright.”
Niall’s mouth tips into a smirk, cocks his head at Harry. “Are you for real?” he asks, a question he probably should’ve asked when they met half an hour ago. Harry just bites his lip and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. Niall humors him, because he’s humored him this far, turns off his bedroom light and turns on the little lamp on his desk instead. “You won’t, like, burn alive, right?” Niall jokes as Harry bounds eagerly into the room now, plops himself on the end of Niall’s bed. Niall still can’t really believe he’s doing this, but Harry’s obviously lonely and Niall needs someone to edit his paper.
“No. It was just bright.”
Harry doesn’t offer any more explanation and Niall doesn’t ask as he sits at his desk and turns on his laptop. Harry’s watching Niall like a hawk, and it would be a bit unnerving if Harry was intimidating but he’s not, perks up curiously when Niall brings his computer over and pulls up his paper. Harry tugs the computer into his lap and immediately starts reading, face steadily settling into a concentrated stare. It’s Niall’s turn to watch Harry, now. Harry’s hair is spilling down his neck in curls, brow creased as his eyes flick across Niall’s paper. He’s got a knuckle pressed against his mouth, silver rings glinting blue from the computer screen and sat still as a statue. And it’s just. Niall can see it, now. Not that he really doubted Harry before but something about him is so obvious now. There’s something inevitably old-fashioned about him, the way he’s composed himself but still doesn’t quite fit in against Niall’s bedroom. Harry’s fingers stutter on the trackpad as he moves to scroll down in the word document and he lets out a satisfied hum once the page on the screen moves. Niall has to swallow back a laugh. It’s almost 1:30 in the morning and he’s got a real, actual vampire in his room. Reading his paper about Vlad the Impaler. Needless to say, this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to him at uni.
“Alright,” Harry says half an hour later, pushes the laptop over to Niall. Niall’s almost asleep, flopped onto his back on the mattress and he jolts when the computer’s weight hits his lap. He blinks blearily up at Harry, scrubs a hand through his hair and asks, “Well?”
“I don’t know anything about Vlad the Impaler,” Harry says happily with a smile as Niall sits up.
“What?”
Harry quirks an eyebrow. “It’s a good paper, I’m sure it’s all very correct.”
Niall frowns at him, and then looks down at his screen. “I thought you were a vampire.”
Harry looks shocked, huffs out, “I am!”
“You said you knew about Vlad the Impaler, Harry.”
“I said no such thing.”
“Yes you--”
“I said I’d help you with your paper,” Harry sniffs. “I never said I knew anything about Vlad the Impaler.”
“But you’re a vampire!”
Harry glares at him indignantly and for the first time Niall feels intimidated. “That doesn’t mean I was hanging out in Romania during the 1400’s, Niall.”
Niall narrows his eyes at Harry and Harry narrows his back but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, enough that a fang pokes out over his lip.
Niall smirks back. “How old are you, then?”
Harry’s smile gets bigger, both fangs visible now. “Twenty one.” All Niall has to do is raise his eyebrows skeptically and Harry shrugs. “Fifty.” He pauses again, “Seventy one, if you count my first birthday.”
Niall....Niall’s too tired for this. “So, you can’t help me with my paper.”
Harry ignores this, getting up from the bed and wandering over to Niall’s desk to toy with the various knick-knacks on the top shelf.
“So, what? You turn into a bat and leave? Load of help you were,” Niall grunts, grumpiness finally taking hold of him as he shuts his laptop, there’s no way he can finish this paper tonight or else his conclusion is going to be something along the lines of So, yeah, Dr. Parker. I don’t even need a bibliography because I had a vampire tell me it’s probably accurate. No worries. Peace out.
Harry laughs and tugs his hair up out of his face, it’s long enough that he can pull it into a bun. Niall catches himself staring at his ears again, has to force himself to look Harry in the eye when the man turns around.
“You want to sleep,” Harry says slowly, not like he’s offended but like he’s still trying to work Niall out. “I’m sorry. I’ve just seen you walk down that path so many times…”
Niall can’t find it in himself to be creeped out, or annoyed, or anything other than already falling asleep. “It’s fine, okay. You can see yourself out, right? I’ll like. See you around, Harry.”
Harry presses his hands together and gives a little bow, still standing by the desk as Niall kicks off his sneakers and crawls under his blankets, clothes and all. “Goodnight,” Harry calls quietly, and he just gets a grunt in reply. Harry shuts off the desk light and picks up the laptop before leaving the bedroom.
::
Niall’s alarm goes off at eight the next morning and he almost ignores it, rolls over and grabs his phone to shut off the alarm when he sees the name he gave the alarm: FINISH UR FCKIN PAPER, DICKHEAD. Past-Niall knew Future-Niall so well.
He rolls to the edge of his mattress and grabs blindly around on the floor for his laptop, but his hand only meets discarded bottles and dirty shirts. He rolls out of bed and digs around the floor for his computer, could’ve sworn he put it on the floor after Harry had left--
Harry.
He stops for a moment, has to slump against his wall when he remembers last night. He’s kind of hoping it was a dream but he knows it wasn’t, because if it was a dream then that means his paper hasn’t been written at all and if that’s the case he’ll have to kill himself.
“Louis, have you seen my computer?” Niall shouts through the apartment as he comes out of his bedroom, shuffling down the hall to the living room. Louis’s bedroom door is closed and locked, which means he got home this morning and is probably nursing a hangover, which also means he’s going to be pissed that Niall is shouting.
Niall’s briefly considering getting drunk and giving up at 8:30 in the morning when he sees his laptop open on the coffee table. It’s dead but it’s here and Niall could cry with relief, carries it back to his room and plugs it in and hopes that everything is there. He can’t remember bringing it out to the living room, unless Louis got home and took it? Which is a whole new thing to panic about, Louis has been known to delete whole word documents if they’re open and just replace the text with “PENIS” in size 96 font.
The computer reboots before Niall can have a full-fledged panic attack, opens up to his paper that looks untampered with. He scrolls through the whole document to make sure, when he notices it now reads page 7 of 7 instead of page 5 of 5 at the bottom. Niall has no recollection of finishing the paper but the concluding pages all sound like his writing, wrapping up his thesis nicely with all the footnotes and citations he needs. The last line is italicized. Sorry I kept you up. I’d like to see you again. xx HS. (P.S.--wikipedia is so, so cool.)
There’s a Chrome window still open. Niall clicks through to his browsing history to see what must be forty wikipedia pages, starting at Dracula at 2:15AM and ending on Finding Nemo at 3:03AM. He can’t even find it in himself to be mad that Harry was in the apartment for another hour after Niall went to bed, or that he’s used Wikipedia as a source. He saves the paper and emails it to his professor with an hour to spare.
::
Niall looks for Harry on campus but doesn’t see him until a week later, Niall’s leaving the student center after dinner with the lads when someone taps him on the shoulder. Niall’s not surprised to see Harry there, the only person Niall knows who would tap him on the shoulder instead of screaming his name from across the courtyard.
“Harry!” Niall bursts into a smile and Harry returns it after a hesitant moment, exhales visibly.
“You’re not mad,” he laughs and Niall’s laughing too, shaking his head.
“How could I be mad? You saved my ass on that paper.”
Harry offers up an anxious smile and a shrug and Niall reaches over and touches his arm. “Harry, seriously. I”m not mad. I’m sorry I was such a dick, I was just tired.” Niall pauses when he moves away again and looks around at the crowds of students around them, the two of them standing in the middle of the courtyard. “Uh, what are you doing?”
Harry grins fully at this, fangs flashing as he pushes his hair out of his face. “I was in class.”
“You...take classes.”
Harry shakes his head. “No, no. The night classes they offer in Thames Hall. I sit in on them, sometimes.”
“For fun.”
“Yup.”
They stare at each other for a few beats before Harry’s smile softens. “You wanna go get a drink? Ask me whatever you want.”
They end up at Paul’s Pub, tucked into the corner booth. Harry’s watching Niall sharply again as they order, Niall a Guinness and basket of chips and Harry an extra-rare steak. Niall manages to hide his laughter until the waitress walks away. “Extra-rare,” he repeats back, mimicking Harry’s drawl and Harry rolls his eyes as he starts folding his napkin.
“Well, I had to order something.”
“So, you can eat?”
Harry nods, “we can eat. It’s just not necessary.”
“So are you, like. Every cliche ever?” Niall asks, can’t think of a polite way to ask do you really drink blood.
Harry rolls his eyes, holds up a hand and starts ticking off each statement on his fingers. “Yes, I have to drink blood. Yes, we’re immortal. Yes, garlic and silver fucks with me. I can’t see my reflection.” He props his chin up in his hand and smiles warmly across the table at Niall. “But no bats, no wooden stakes through the heart. Sunlight is just kind of unpleasant. And I’m a vegan.”
Niall snorts his water up through his nose, splutters uselessly for a few moments and manages to laugh out, “you’re a vegan?”
“I mean I don't take from anything alive. I get it from butchers!” Harry protests. “Usually they’ll give it to me for free, but some of them must think I’m part of a cult or something, asking if they have any blood they don’t need--”
“Wait, wait,” Niall’s still laughing. He knows he shouldn’t be but something about this is just. So fucked. “How are you real? Why are you hanging out on a uni campus?”
“Boredom,” Harry replies defensively, “I enjoy being twenty one, thank you very much. Would you rather have me running around downtown London biting people’s heads off?”
“Jesus Christ,” Niall mutters into his cup. He can’t tell if he’s stress-laughing or if all of this is actually amusing to him. “Haven’t you been found out before? It’s kind of hard to hide your---you know…” Niall waves a hand around his face.
“My what?” Harry asks, and when he speaks his fangs are gone, replaced by regular human-looking canines. Niall squints over at him and Harry opens his mouth again, sighs “Ahh, these,” softly and his fangs click back down. “I can hide them, Niall, obviously.”
“Why haven’t you hid them for me? Bloody freaky, them,” Niall says, feels a little bitter that Harry had purposely let him see his fangs that night, scared the shit out of him.
“Because you like them,” Harry replies, voice low and soft and then he tacks on, “and they’re more comfortable when they’re down.”
Niall is still stuck on because you like them when their drinks and food comes.
The conversation spirals after that, Harry wants to know about Niall’s classes and roommate and friends and Niall wants to know how Harry has managed to be so unaware of technology for so long.
“I was born in ‘44,” Harry explains as he cuts his steak into tiny bits, blood leaking onto the plate each time he cuts it. “And by ‘65 I was, like, a hippie? I guess? Maybe a beatnik. They teach it like they’re all the same thing, now.” He frowns, like he’s considering this as a new topic in itself. “I went to a Rolling Stones concert, you know them? I don’t really remember it, I think I was high when some bloke took me into the bathroom with him, woke up at home and just remembered his fangs.” Harry shrugs, dragging his pinky through the condensation on his glass of water. “I’m no different than them. The Stones and vampires, two things that’ll never die.”
Niall almost interrupts, wants to tell him to get to the point but there’s something soothing listening to Harry, reassures Niall that he hasn’t lost his mind. “So I’m changed in ‘65 and kind of. Moved around for a while, didn’t want to settle anywhere. Russia, France, New York. I tried to, like, hang onto the old part of myself for a long time. Didn’t really accept myself as I am until the 90’s, I guess? So I’m still catching up.”
Niall’s quiet after that, Harry doesn’t seem like he’s upset but he doesn’t say anything more and sets his focus on swirling his bits of steak through the blood on his plate.
“Well, you figured out Wikipedia pretty quickly,” Niall finally points out as he drains the last of his Guinness and Harry beams.
Niall’s shivering as soon as they step outside but Harry doesn’t seem phased at all, offers Niall his overcoat (of fucking course Harry Styles the Vampire wears an overcoat) and winks when Niall gives him an exasperated look. Niall declines the jacket but Harry follows after him anyway, coat slung over his shoulder as they head back towards Niall’s apartment. Niall’s breath is frosting in the air in front of them but Harry’s isn’t, has his shirt unbuttoned except for the last three as if the cool October night isn’t a problem at all. Niall’s thought of another question. “Do you sleep in a coffin?”
It takes Harry off guard and he starts laughing, face scrunched up and he has to stop walking, leans against a telephone pole with a hand on his stomach as he tries to catch his breath.
“I live in a loft off of Bell Street,” he answers through his wheezing. “I don’t sleep, either. Honestly, Niall, I thought you’d be more with it at this point.”
“You don’t sleep?”
Harry shrugs.
“So what do you do?” Niall pauses, squints at the man. “Don’t tell me you, like, sit around and write poetry or some shit.”
Harry narrows his eyes and replies, “You could come over, if you want.”
::
Harry’s apartment is about as posh as Niall expected a vampire’s apartment to be, and possibly the most modern thing thus far about Harry. It’s all tall, wide windows and brick walls, a fireplace tucked into the center of a wall between the couches. It’s clean, aside from a stack of books on the coffee table and an open guitar case on the floor by the window. Niall’s...surprised.
“You didn’t really think I lived in some cold metal box, did you?” Harry laughs as he whisks past Niall, across the room to where a dresser and four poster bed sit against the wall. Niall’s about to tease Harry about sleeping, but the bed is made and looks like it hasn’t been touched for a while. Harry starts rummaging through the dresser, starts to unbutton his shirt and Niall blushes, turns away into the kitchen nook.
He opens the refrigerator because he can’t resist, still some sort of doubt in his mind that Harry’s taking the piss out of him with this whole vampire thing. And the fridge seems...normal. There’s juiceboxes and yogurt and maybe a weird amount of tomato juice cans, but nothing that different than any other refrigerator. Niall’s about to call Harry on bullshit when he looks down in the freezer drawer and feels himself pale immediately. There’s a stack of wrapped, bloody steaks and in the shelf next to them, a pile of blood bags. There’s stickers across them, cow or pig or unlabeled, and Niall’s hands are a little shaky when he closes the fridge. Niall doesn’t mean to scream when he turns around to see Harry standing behind him but he does anyway, claps a hand over his mouth to contain it.
“What the fuck?” Niall blurts a few heartbeats later. Harry’s changed into a hoodie and sweats, arms crossed and obviously waiting for Niall to calm down.
“Where else should I be putting them?” Harry asks innocently, raising his hands in a shrug and then he comes around the island counter, nudges Niall out of the way and opens the freezer. Niall can’t stop staring, which Harry notices after he pulls out a bag and looks at Niall over his shoulder. “You don’t have to watch, you know.”
“I want to,” Niall grunts, crosses his arms and steels himself against the counter. He’s silently trying not faint, but keeps his eyes locked on Harry as the man moves around the kitchen, taking an opaque aluminum water bottle from a cabinet and scissors from another drawer.
“I’m only going to do it like this because you look like you might pass out,” Harry sniffs as he snips the top of the bloodbag, carrying it over to the sink before pouring it into the water bottle. It smells coppery for a few minutes, until Harry screws the top on the bottle and takes a sip and then looks over at Niall with raised brows.
“Why do you have so much tomato juice,” Niall deadpans.
Harry takes a moment to swallow, his teeth tinted a little red as he answers, “It’s for a cleanse.”
“A cleanse.”
Harry hums, turns and jumps onto the counter, sitting cross-legged on it as he looks at Niall. “Tomato juice cleanse.”
Niall’s growing accustomed to these looks they exchange but he can’t tell what they mean. Harry’s trying to see how far he can go and have Niall still believe him, probably. Niall’s believed every word of it so far, hook, line, and sinker. “Really.”
Harry grins, then. “I learned it from a dude named Vladimir. When I lived in Tibet.”
“Okay. You did not live in Tibet,” Niall says, throwing his hands up and Harry’s doubled into himself laughing.
“You believed it, though. You believed it for a second.”
Niall rolls his eyes, steps closer until he's standing up against the counter, looking up at Harry.
“This probably isn’t even blood,” Niall sneers, reaches out and clicks a fingernail against the water bottle. Harry’s gone quiet, holds the bottle out to Niall. “It’s not?” he challenges.
Niall snatches the bottle, feels his jaw twitch as Harry stares him down. Nothing has ever topped the time Louis forced Niall to do two shots of Four Horsemen without a chaser. Niall makes sure he’s still staring at Harry when he takes a swig, and then promptly spits it out in the sink. Harry’s face drops into a playful pout, tugging at his bottom lip with a ringed finger and he says, “Hmm. Maybe cow blood isn’t really your thing.”
Niall can’t even find it in himself to be mad. “I had that coming, didn’t I?”
Harry just hums but his gaze has dropped down to Niall’s mouth and Niall tries not to stare too much at the fangs resting gently on Harry’s lip. He reaches out and cups the back of Niall’s neck, enough pressure that Niall takes a step closer, leans against the counter that Harry’s still sitting on. “That was fucking gross, Harry,” Niall tries with little conviction.
Harry hums again, and for an awful moment Niall thinks that Harry’s going to eat him alive. And then there’s the soft snick of Harry’s fangs sliding away under his gums and then his mouth is on Nialls. Harry’s arms drape casually over Niall’s shoulders as he pulls Niall’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucks the blood off and Niall kisses back, tries to cover up the taste of the blood with Harry.
Harry pulls back first and looks mournfully down at the spat blood in the sink. “What a waste,” he sighs, reaching over to turn on the faucet and rinse it out. And Niall is. Well, fucking floored that Harry’s a good kisser and that Harry didn’t murder him.
“Are you hungry, then?” Harry asks, hopping down from the counter and opening up the cabinets, where there’s snacks and cereal boxes.
Niall shrugs and Harry tosses him a bag of crisps, pads into the living room and calls, “Hey, can you help me figure this out?”
Harry’s standing by an XBox One underneath his TV when Niall rounds the corner, smiling sheepishly. “You help me here, we’re even.”
Half an hour later, Niall’s trying to walk Harry through the basics of GTA V. Harry has skipped the tutorial telling him to fight a man on a street corner in favor of trying to parallel park a stolen car. It’s one of the funniest things Niall’s ever seen, Harry’s face taut with concentration as he proceeds to knock over a mailbox and rear end a telephone pole. “Stop laughing!” Harry snaps, but the corner of his mouth is tipping into a smile as he rams another car on the screen. “I’m no better at this in real life, either.”
It’s late (early?) when Harry sees Niall out, offers twice to get him a cab or walk him home and he’s insistent enough that Niall’s laughing against the doorframe. “Harry, it’s six blocks and so far, you’re the most scary thing I’ve met in my uni career. I’ll be fine.”
Harry’s look turns dark for a second. “There’s ghosts, too. Did you know Wilson Hall is haunted?”
“And you’re scared of ghosts, Harry?”
Harry gives Niall a solemn look. “They’re the real deal, Niall.”
Niall mutters unbelievable for what must be the tenth time tonight, and it makes Harry smile, reaches over and grips the back of Niall’s neck gently. “Get home safe then, yeah?”
Niall’s smile twitches, takes a chance after a breath and replies, “I could tell you if I had your number.”
(He texts Harry as soon as he gets back home, of course, a quick fought off five ghosts barehanded on my way home !!! with the ghost emoji, to which Harry just replies thank you for letting me know. x Two hours later, its four in the morning and Niall’s read every article in the school newspaper’s archives about the Wilson Hall fire in 1930, and has moved onto googling vampire myths.
Can you get drunk?
Only if the human is drunk.
Niall pauses with his next question, been dying to ask since the night he met Harry but he feels intrusive. But Harry’s answered all his questions so far, so.
have you ever drank a human’s blood ? and then, quickly, u don’t have t answer
The (...) hovers for a bit, disappears enough times that Niall forces himself to turn his attention back to his computer until the whoosh of a new message pulls Niall back.
When I was new, it was hard to control it. I killed three people and haven’t done it since.
There’s a pause, and then another message: tomato juice and cow blood treat me just fine, though. xx
do u miss it ? It’s 4:17AM, if Harry thinks Niall’s overstepping boundaries then he can blame it on sleep-deprivation.
I don’t know.
Niall doesn’t have a response, so he doesn’t reply. He goes back to his wikipedia pages, ends up falling asleep but he sees the new messages the next morning when he wakes up, both sent an hour after Niall had gone to bed.
I like when you ask me things.
it helps me catch up.
::
Louis and Niall are on the rooftop of their building smoking when Harry texts him again and Louis reaches for Niall’s phone.
“Harry asked you why you let strangers into the apartment,” Louis reads with raised eyebrows, peeks at Niall over the rim of his sunglasses. Niall snatches the phone away to read it, was just curious about if you bring just anyone back to your flat.
Niall slides a look over to Louis before tapping out, we’ve had weird guests at late hours before, mate !
Indulge me? x
Niall feels himself blush. do u want to meet my roommate ? it might explain a lot As he’s typing this, he cocks his head over to Louis. “You mind if I have a friend over tonight?”
Harry shows up at six o’clock exactly, all fangless smiles when Niall opens the door. He sighs when he sees him, fangs slowly exposing themselves as he breathes, “Oh, good, I thought your friend would--”
“Hey!” Louis chirps and it’s the first time Harry looks surprised, his fangs gone in a second and he gives Louis a blinding smile, pushes his hair back as he steps inside to shake his hand.
“Harry Styles,” he introduces himself and Louis smiles tightly back, gives Harry a once over.
“Harry. I’m Louis. Hope you like Italian.”
Harry barks a laugh that’s poorly disguised as a cough, turns to glare at Niall as soon as Louis heads back to the kitchen. Harry’s stiffening already, inhales and starts coughing for real this time. “I’m not going to be able to eat any of this.”
It takes a second for Niall to catch up and when he does he rubs his face, “shit, the garlic thing. I’m so sorry, Louis insisted on cooking--”
Harry holds up a hand, visibly steeling himself against the scents coming from the kitchen. “It’s alright. I can handle it. Does Louis know?”
Niall shakes his head just as Louis calls into them, “Dinner, lads. I’ve outdone myself this time.”
“Louis! Louis, I forgot to tell you,” Niall blurts as they move into the kitchen, Harry sliding silently into a seat as Niall grabs Louis’s forearms, steers him away from the table for a minute. “I forgot to tell you, but Harry’s, um. Harry’s a vegan.”
Harry cough-laughs again but Niall ignores it because Louis bristles, hisses back, “What the fuck does that mean.”
“He doesn’t eat, like. This,” Niall finishes lamely. He turns to look at Harry for help but Harry’s grinning into his hands, clears his throat when Louis and Niall face him again.
“I’d be fine with the salad, Louis,” Harry pipes up before Louis can blow a gasket, holds up his hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t let Niall know about that sooner.”
Niall mouths Salad? at Harry incredulously and Harry just replies with a quick, sharp grin as Louis pours them all wine.
“The first decent fucking meal I make all of university and Niall forgets to tell me that our guest can’t eat it,” Louis sighs. “I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day--”
“You bought a bag of lettuce and three microwave dinners, Louis,” Niall points out and Louis just grins into his wine glass.
“I broke out the nice china, though.”
“He means we’re not eating on paper plates,” Niall clarifies to Harry and winks at Louis. “We only use real plates when our moms come.”
“Or when it’s a hot date,” Louis quips, and it feels like a final note to the conversation, Niall flushing pink all the way to his ears and Harry’s smiling coyly again, pops a cherry tomato in his mouth.
Harry’s stiff throughout dinner but that doesn’t stop him from charming the hell out of Louis. And by charming Louis he means asking questions and letting Louis do all the talking, “Mate, the weirdest person we’ve ever had in our apartment was a dude we found trying to walk home from a party, was out of his mind convinced he was an astronaut, he ate all our ice cream and then crashed on our couch…”
Harry keeps glancing across the table at Niall during these stories and Niall nods along with Louis’ narrative, making faces and shaking his head when Louis goes over the top and by the end of the dinner Louis and Niall are both drunk on boxed wine and laughing, Harry smiling uncomfortably at his end of the table.
“This has been great, Louis. Thank you,” Harry says once Niall’s gotten up to take the plates to the sink. “Uh, can I use your bathroom?”
Harry disappears down the hall and Niall can’t help but follow, ignores Louis’s squawk of protest, “you still have dishes to do, dick!” and knocks gently on the door.
“Harry?”
Harry cracks the door before opening it fully, lets Niall step in before closing it again.
“Are you okay?” Niall asks, somewhere through his wine-induced haze he registers that Harry isn’t reflected in the bathroom mirror. Harry’s watching Niall through the mirror but Niall has to look at him directly, Harry’s pupils blown and he’s got one hand clamped on the edge of the sink.
“Just. Hungry?” Harry replies and then flinches, like he’s said too much. “I didn’t want to just up and leave.” He offers Niall a small smile. “I’ve been having too much fun.”
It crosses Niall’s mind for a second but he doesn’t let it go any farther, asks instead “What happens if you don’t...eat.”
Harry shrugs. “I don’t, like, rip people’s heads off, if that’s what you mean. I just get tired.”
Niall squints at him, the vampire has the same tone of voice the had when he told Niall he lived in Tibet. “You need me to walk you home?” he jokes, “there might be ghosts out there.”
Harry frowns, blinks hard and seems to come back to himself, a little. “Don’t joke about ghosts, Niall.”
Niall settles Harry with an equally stern look. “What happens when you’re hungry, Harry?” he tries again and Harry sighs exasperatedly, like he did when Niall insisted on watching him drink the other day.
“I just get a little, like. Bad.”
Louis raps on the kitchen wall and yells, “I hope you’re using protection!” and Harry smirks, fangs out as Niall blushes.
Harry snorts a laugh, reaches out and pats Niall’s cheek, fingers lingering for a moment as he tells him, “I should get going.”
Louis only teases Niall for two hours after Harry leaves, he dresses like a hippie, Niall, can’t say I thought he’d be your type. He drops it when Niall doesn’t take the bait, just washes the dishes and salutes Louis before he goes off to his room.
u better ? he sends Harry after a few minutes of debate about it, hits send and then leaves his phone facedown on his chest. There’s a chime seconds later and Niall can’t resist, picks it up and just reads the yes. x
Niall’s not expecting anything else until, are you still drunk?
yup ! he taps back.
I could smell it on you.
Niall swallows thickly, thumbs hovering over the keys before he taps, what do I smell like
Tonight you mean? Garlic and cheap wine.
Niall snorts, scrubs a hand through his hair and rolls over to press his face into his pillow. There’s another message a few seconds later. I can’t explain it. You just smell warm.
::
Niall brings Harry a copy of Zoo Tycoon for his Xbox, figures that it might be a little more his speed than Grand Theft Auto was. Harry’s got this game figured out in ten minutes, sets to work making a giraffe exhibit while Niall slouches on the couch next to him.
“Can I ask you a question?” Niall asks after a while of watching Harry, and Harry raises his eyebrows, grunts but doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.
Niall bites back a smile. “Have you not gone shopping since 1965?”
Harry pouts, doesn’t answer right away and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. Harry holds out for five minutes before he frowns down at his shirt, a paisley button up with the top four buttons undone. “What?”
“Nothing. Nevermind,” Niall replies and Harry makes a noise of protest, pauses the game.
“It’s just,” Niall is smiling now, Harry seems more confused than upset, “not a lot of “twenty one” year olds dress the way you do,” he explains carefully, hooking finger quotes around Harry’s age. “It makes you stand out, is all.”
Harry’s quiet for a little while, goes back to tending to his rhinoceroses and building more nacho stalls. And then, “I can’t see myself!” he blurts, puts the controller down and knots a hand in his hair for a few seconds. “And you kids, you change your trends like, every week, I can’t keep up--”
“Harry. Harry, I didn’t mean it!” Niall’s laughing already, holding up his hands. “Shit, you sound like my grandfather. “You kids.”” Harry looks even more distraught, now, buries his face in his hands and it’s quiet for a bit before Niall tacks on, “I could help you, you know. I mean, I’m no Calvin Klein but.”
Harry’s dresser is mostly button-ups and skinny jeans, almost like he started to catch onto how modern twenty-somethings dress but couldn’t let go of his sixties style. There’s a bottom drawer of tshirts and Niall grabs a stack of them, sits on the bed and spreads them out and Harry makes a face.
“That’s it?”
“Why don’t you wear these?” Niall counters, unfolds a few of them. Mostly old band shirts, vintage Stones and Ramones. Harry just shrugs. “I didn’t think they were cool.”
Niall raises his eyebrows and looks Harry up and down. “And you think half-buttoned shirts are?”
Harry leans against one of the bed’s posters and smirks. “Some people do. Some people think they're hot.”
It takes Niall a few seconds and then he grimaces, “Aw, gross,” and gets off the bed. He throws Harry a white tshirt. “Look, this is like, normal uni attire. Put that on and let your hair down.”
Harry gives him a skeptical look but unbuttons the rest of his shirt anyway, lets it drop to the floor behind him. Niall’s staring at his tattoos and Harry knows he’s staring, only gives Niall a quick look before he ducks into the t-shirt, tugs it over his head and untangles the rubberband keeping his hair up. Pointed ears hidden and flower shirt gone, he immediately looks…normal. And attractive. Which is kind of new.
“So?” Harry asks, self-deprecating smile waiting uncertainly on his mouth.
Niall gives him a nod but Harry makes a small noise, clears this throat and asks, “What do I look like?”
Niall almost thinks he’s joking until he meets Harry’s eyes and he just looks tired, fiddling with one of his rings and staring down at his boots.
“You’ve got green eyes?” Niall tries, starts with the basics as the corner of Harry’s mouth twitches. “You’ve got nice teeth even with the fangs, and dimples.” The more Niall’s talking the less tense Harry looks, lifts his eyes to look at him. “Uh, you’re tanner than I thought a vampire would be.” He pauses, thinks back to the first night Harry had been sitting on his bed. “Your hair is curly, at the ends, dark brown. Look like you stepped out of a goddamn renaissance painting, honestly.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Renaissance painting?”
“I took an art history class my first year.” Niall shrugs, feels his neck flush.
Harry settles Niall with a curious look for a minute. “So, this is really how people dress? It’s so. Simple.” He scrunches up his face and Niall rolls his eyes.
“You were the one who said you wanted to fit in with the kids.”
Harry’s still frowning when he moves closer to look at his collection of shirts and Niall turns to the kitchen to root around for a snack. It’s been long enough that Harry’s tomato juice cans are being pushed farther back in the fridge to make room for the six packs that Niall brings over, mostly because keeping them here means that Louis can’t drink them.
There’s four empty bloodbags in the trashcan when Niall goes to throw out his bottlecap, which wouldn’t really concern Niall except for the fact that there’s four of them, one on top of the other.
“Harry?” he calls into the living room, where the sounds of the video game as picking back up again. “Harry, did you drink all four of these?”
“All four of what.”
Niall rounds to corner and leans on the back of the couch claps his hands on Niall’s shoulders, “The bags. In the kitchen.”
Harry shrugs a bit but leans back into Niall’s hands. “Not really anyone else who would be drinking them, Niall.”
“Yeah, but...four?”
Harry lifts a shoulder again, and Niall moves around the couch to sit next to him. “I mean, is that normal? Is that what you usually--”
“Niall,” Harry cuts him off quietly, rubbing his face. “You’re the first friend I’ve had in decades, so I don’t mean for this to be weird, but. Four bags of butcher blood is better than one bag of the alternative, okay? You’re just kind of. Distracting.”
Niall blinks. “Are you saying you want to bite me?”
Harry picks his head up, elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “I said I didn’t mean for this to be weird.”
“It’s not--well, yeah, okay, it is fuckin’ weird,” Niall allows, shifts a little on the couch and Harry tenses up. “But. I would let you, if you wanted.” He pauses. “I mean, if it doesn’t kill me or turn me into a vampire.”
Harry fixes him with a steady look for a while, lions roaring on the TV and Niall’s heart in his throat. “I could get drunk again,” Harry declares finally, exhales and tilts his head to the back of the couch, laughing in relief. “You’d really let me?”
Niall shrugs, tries to not let himself blush as he remembers their kiss in the kitchen. “Yeah. What was your drink, back then? You weren’t a Guinness man, I’m sure.”
Harry’s smiling to himself as he shakes his head, “I was a gin and tonic guy.”
Niall hums. “Will it hurt?”
Harry’s back at his game already. “I don’t think so, really. I don’t remember.” He tilts his head to look over at him. “You don’t have to.”
“I know. I want to, though. Just not tonight, alright?”
Harry doesn’t look like he believes Niall but he gives him a smile, anyway, leans over and kisses his temple. “Okay.”
::
It’s Louis who convinces Niall to go see Harry after a night of shots at the pub, Louis hanging off his side by the time they leave, “You should go see your boy, yeah? He should’ve come out with us, you should go see him.”
“I should’ve had a gin and tonic,” Niall jokes and it goes over Louis’s head, “the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Uh, yeah, I’m gonna see him. You can get a cab home?”
Niall’s knocking at Harry’s door before he can lose his nerve. It’s almost midnight and for some reason Niall isn’t expecting Harry to answer the door but he does, shirtless and out of breath.
“The hell were you up to?” Niall blurts before he can stop himself and Harry smiles at him.
“I got a new video game!” he chirps, steps aside so Niall can come in. “It’s yoga and cardio. I can’t really do much with the cardio but the yoga is great.”
Niall has ten snappy comebacks in his head but he can’t get any out, too focused on the butterfly tattooed on Harry’s stomach.
“I’m drunk,” he finally says and Harry throws him a smile over his shoulder and replies, “I know.”
Niall flops down on the couch and he’s disappointed when Harry isn’t immediately on top of him. Instead, Harry goes back to his yoga videogame, completes the cool down phase and continues to ignore Niall, disappears into the kitchen for a bit.
“Haaaaaaaaaaarry--” Niall starts to sing/whine and then Harry comes around the end of the couch, fangs bared and pupils blown, looking terrifying. He doesn’t move and Niall doesn’t really react, just pouts and says, “we doing this, then?”
Harry opens his mouth, expression turning curious. “You aren’t scared?”
Niall rolls his eyes. “No, am I supposed to be?”
Harry doesn’t respond to this, instead slinks down onto the couch and slides over until he’s practically in Niall’s lap, eyes flicking from Niall’s face to his neck and back to his eyes. Niall doesn’t have anything to say. He tips his head back and to the side, tries to fight a shiver when he feels Harry’s breath on his neck. He doesn’t know what to expect, lets out a little sigh when Harry kisses his jaw, makes his way down the column of Niall’s throat. He can feel Harry’s fangs sliding against the skin, searching for a pulse. Niall’s dimly aware of Harry’s hands, one on the side of his neck and the other on Niall’s torso, reaching down towards his hips. It happens in a rush, a sharp sting in his neck and then an overwhelming throb, feels like he’s on the edge of an orgasm. He reaches a hand up, tangling it in Harry’s hair and the man hums against Niall’s neck. He doesn’t know how long it’s been but at some point, it starts to hurt, something too oversensitive that makes his hand twitch against Harry’s scalp.
There’s a second that cuts through the dimness of it that Harry might kill him. It’s a sharp enough feeling that Niall lets out a gasp and immediately, Harry pulls back, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the wound before he turns away from Niall for a moment, hands still on his neck and stomach. He turns back around only when his mouth isn’t bright red, blinking hard.
Niall lets his head fall back, too blissed out to say anything and Harry hasn’t moved, has his eyes closed and head tipped down.
“Shit,” Harry giggles, scrubs a hand over his face and he looks flushed when he picks his head back up. “Niall, you’re fucking hammered.”
Niall reaches out and works his hand into Harry’s hair again, gently tugs him down until he’s slumped again in Niall’s lap. There’s a hundred questions Niall wants to ask but he doesn’t, stays quiet and keeps moving his hands through Harry’s hair. “How’s it feel?” Niall decides finally and Harry just replies with another giggle, twists around and moves up to kiss Niall’s jaw.
“Feels like I’m drunk. For the first time in fifty years,” Harry replies with a lazy smile, looks up at Niall and runs a finger over the spot on his neck, still feels warm to the touch. His brow creases for a moment. “You’re alright?”
Niall hums. “Didn’t hurt.”
They spend the rest of the night singing and playing videogames, Niall belting out a very drunk rendition of Red Solo Cup and Harry keeps laugh-yelling for him to shut up, he’s about to attempt Rainbow Road on Mario Kart (and he promptly goes straight off the edge as soon as the race starts). Niall’s raiding the kitchen cabinets in search of crisps when Harry comes in, presses Niall up against the counter and mouths at the same spot on Niall’s neck, doesn’t bite but just presses his face against the back of Niall’s neck and inhales deeply.
“Were you a clingy drunk?” Niall asks, turns so he’s facing Harry.
“Can I kiss you?” Harry asks quietly and Niall’s brain stutters for a second before he nods, tips his chin up a bit and catches Harry by the mouth.
Harry kisses like he talks, slow and lazy with his fingers pressed into Niall’s hips. Without a mouthful of blood, Harry tastes soft and sweet, like something comfortable and lived-in, like they’ve done this a hundred times. Harry’s thumb presses against the mark on Niall’s neck, healed over and looks like a lovebite now, still sore enough that Niall moans quietly into Harry’s mouth. Harry moves his mouth down his neck, teeth smooth and blunt as he sucks gently under Niall’s jaw. Niall can feel his pulse hammering under his skin but he lets Harry continue, litters Niall’s neck with bruises and Harry lingers for a moment when they’ve stopped kissing, nose pressed under Niall’s ear.
“Would you do this again with me?” Harry asks after a few moments, pulls back but keeps his hands on Niall’s hips. Niall frowns, about to ask what he means and Harry’s eyes flit up and down the length of Niall’s body. “You’re tired.”
Niall shrugs, scratches at the back of Harry’s neck. “I would. Can I crash here?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “You can take the bed.”
Niall tries to bite down on his laugh but he can’t contain it, breaks into a grin and squeezes the back of Harry’s neck once, wanders back into the living room. Harry goes back to Mario Kart but Niall makes his way over to the bed, pulls back the sheets. He can feel Harry watching him but he doesn’t turn to him, instead kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers, crawls onto the bed. It smells like Harry and it’s almost too luxurious, heavy blankets and a too-soft mattress.
“I forget what’s comfortable to sleep with,” Harry pipes up from across the room, lip pinched between his fingers as he frowns over at Niall. “If people are going to be too cold or not.”
Niall considers this as he nestles into the bed, takes a few moments to kick off the heaviest of the blankets and throws some of the pillows on the floor. Harry’s still watching him, mouth starting to tip up into a smile as the bed becomes more bare and rumpled, before Niall finally settles against the pillows.
“You’re not allowed to watch me, ya fuckin’ creep,” he grumbles as he tugs one of the sheets up over his head. “I’m going to be wicked hungover in the morning.”
He peeks up over the sheets and Harry’s still looking over at him, averts his eyes quickly when he sees Niall. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” he asks and Niall groans, flaps a hand around before pulling the sheets back up over his head.
“You too, H. You’d be even better if I woke up tomorrow to some donuts.”
::
Niall wakes up with a box of Krispy Kreme donuts on the nightstand, and the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.
“Harry?” Niall sits up, expecting the usual punch of a hangover to hit him but he feels okay, sore and exhausted but not that hungover. Harry’s head peeks around the corner from the kitchen and he blurts, “I wasn’t watching you!”
Niall squints and Harry’s expression turns sheepish, shoots Niall a small smile and amends, “I mean. Good morning.”
Niall rolls his eyes, carries his box of doughnuts over to the couch and wakes the Xbox up. Zoo Tycoon is still open. Niall picks up the controller, zooms out of the park to see that it’s fucking gigantic, three different gazelle exhibits and two reptile houses. There’s twenty four pizza stalls.
Harry hands Niall his coffee in a chipped Little Mermaid mug, puffs up with pride and says, “Oh, do you like my park?”
“Is this all you did all night?” Niall asks incredulously, twisting to look at Harry over the back of the couch.
“No,” Harry replies indignantly, scrunching up his face. “I went to Krispy Kreme, too.”
Niall turns his attention back to the screen. “You didn’t even play it the way you’re supposed to.” He shifts the screen into construction mode and deletes a fence section of the zebra exhibit and then deletes a section of the lion’s fence. He takes a sip of his coffee and leans back, satisfied with the inevitable destruction of the zoo until a hundred animal control and security staff swarm the exhibits and contain the chaos before it can even begin.
“Unbelievable,” Niall sighs and Harry climbs over the back of the couch and snatches the controller.
“My zoo is an equal opportunity employer, Niall. We might be a little overstaffed but it comes in handy for times like this.”
Niall stares at Harry in disbelief and Harry stares back at him seriously.
“You know everything they say about Dracula? All that stuff I wrote in my paper?” Niall asks as he rips one of the glazed donuts in half. Harry hums. “It’s all bullshit. Real vampires do tomato juice cleanses and do yoga. Fuck.”
Harry’s laughing, now, loud and high-pitched and he tips over, buries his head against Niall’s shoulder. “You know everything they say about humans?” he counters, pokes Niall in the stomach. “It’s all bullshit. You’re supposed to be scared of me. You’re not supposed to trust me the way you do.”
Niall shrugs and Harry’s head bobs along with the motion until he sits back up, narrows his eyes at Niall.
“Harry, the first time we met you asked if I liked your boots. You’re hardly the pale, fanged terror that you wish you were, babe.”
Harry snorts and reaches over, presses hard on the bruises on Niall’s neck. “And yet,” is all he says, eyelids drooping as he goes back to staring at Niall’s throat and Niall nods, kicks his feet up on the coffee table.
“Yeah. Here we are. Come on, Dracula, show me how many elephants you have in that goddamn zoo.”
::
Niall tells Louis all of it in one go, Harry’s a vampire and he bit me the other night and then bought me Krispy Kreme and we met because he followed me home and then finished my paper, he only drinks cow blood but thinks that I smell good and I gave him my copy of Zoo Tycoon and he’s from the ‘60s, also Wilson Hall is haunted and also that’s why he couldn’t eat garlic that night when he came over.
Louis looks skeptically at Niall over his cigarette and Niall tenses, is almost certain that Louis is going to have him shipped to a mental ward when Louis breathes through his smoke, “You gave him your copy of Zoo Tycoon? The one where we let all the cheetahs out of their cage?” he pouts, grinds out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Shame, that was a good game.”
Niall blinks a few times, squints at Louis. “Louis. He’s a vampire.”
“That’s fine. As long as he’s not a brony or some shit, like that kid in my econ class.”
Niall’s shock aside, the whole discussion goes smoother than he thought it would.
::
Niall starts sneaking into night classes with Harry, the two of them settling into the back of the lecture halls. One lecture about the history of the cold war is mostly Harry muttering in Niall’s ear the whole time, no, he’s totally wrong, we based our nukes after the Americans and did you know I met Churchill? Niall’s laughing with his head down on the desk by the end of it, can’t tell how much of Harry’s narrative is bullshit but it’s all hilarious regardless.
Niall feels like he’s turning nocturnal himself, most weekends at Harry’s or Harry at their flat and it almost always ends with Niall falling asleep on the couch and wakes up apologizing. Harry teases him about it, we were in the middle of talking about aliens and you passed out on me, Niall, never seems too bothered about it though.
Harry’s started dressing like a normal uni student, though that might be because he and Niall are constantly swapping clothes from each other’s apartments, Niall’s bomber jackets and Harry’s boots eventually getting mixed up when Niall has to leave for his 9:30 class in the mornings. Louis only teased at the beginning, before Harry brought Louis a stack of his vintage band shirts just to shut him up.
Niall doesn’t try to put a label on them and Harry doesn’t seem concerned about that. He only makes it clear to Niall that he’s his best friend, usually right before he’s about to drink from him. Niall still draws questions out of Harry, learns that the butcher shop blood tasted like shit and he can tell that Harry’s happier, now, looks fuller and healthier whenever Niall lets him bite him.
Niall’s leaving Wilson Hall, takes the same path he did the first night he met Harry and this time, Harry’s waiting for him on one of the benches.
“Nice night,” Niall greets him, wraps Harry into a brief hug. “Are those my shoes?”
Harry looks down, wiggles his feet wearing the same boots that Niall wore months ago when Harry first complimented him.
“I raided your closet, a bit,” Harry says with a toothy smile. “Thought we could go out tonight.”
Niall nods, keeps walking down the path and Harry follows close behind him. “I haven’t been to a club since ‘94,” Harry pipes up, grins when Niall turns to him in disbelief.
“You wanna get drunk?” Niall asks after a beat, smiles edging at both of their faces and Harry stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs bashfully.
“If you think it’ll help me catch up with today’s hip kids, yeah.”
Niall rolls his eyes, reaches up and pushes through Harry’s hair. “Yeah,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the apartment. “I’ll help you catch up.”
::