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Harry’s just come back from his morning run, his legs burning and his chest tight as his heart pounds against his rib cage and his lungs expand with each breath. It’s the beginning days of summer, so it’s a bit warmer outside and Harry can feel the sweat rolling down his chest and back, but it feels refreshing nonetheless, loosening up his muscles for the day ahead.
He takes a quick shower and then makes his way into the kitchen, turning on the stove and placing a pan with oil on top of it. He’s barely got the fridge open before he hears his phone ringing from the living room.
Harry leaves the kitchen, just to see who’s calling him, and when he sees it’s his sister he slides his thumb to answer and greets her with a warm, “Hi, Gem.”
“Hey, little bro,” she says, and even though Harry can’t physically see her, he’s pretty sure she’s wearing a big grin on her face.
“You sound happy,” he muses, plopping down on the couch and resting his feet on the coffee table.
“That’s because I am,” she says simply. “I’m getting married.”
“What?” Harry splutters, now sitting up straight. He holds the phone closer to his ear, just to make sure he heard her right, but all he can hear is Gemma chuckling on the other end.
“Yes,” she confirms. “Gabe asked me last night.”
“Wow, that’s great, Gem,” Harry says sincerely, and it dissolves into congratulations and more well wishes because Gabe’s a good guy and Harry’s genuinely happy for them. Then Harry starts hounding her about wedding details; when it is, where it is and what he should wear. But just as he’s about to ask her if he can expect any nieces or nephews in the future he hears the smoke alarm start beeping, and at first he’s confused, until he remembers - “Oh, shit,” he curses as he goes running into the kitchen and he drops his phone at the sight of flames.
He scrambles to pick his phone back up and doesn’t give Gemma the chance to ask what’s wrong, just says that he’ll call her back before he hangs up. Harry tries to remain calm as his heart is back to pounding against his ribs. He reaches for the fire extinguisher but stops when he remembers that a grease fire can be put out with baking soda. He's read about kitchen fires, but it's different when it's actually happening and he can barely think straight.
He rifles through his cabinets quickly until he finally finds it and dumps a generous amount into the pan. It dwindles the fire some, but it’s not completely out and now Harry’s really starting to panic. He grabs his phone again and does what he should've done in the first place - dials 999.
Within five minutes (even though it feels like an eternity to Harry) the fire truck finally arrives and Harry can only watch as they all pile out of the truck and rush inside. He feels slightly less panicked now, but most of all he feels stupid for leaving a hot pan unattended. He’s about to mentally slap himself when he spots the last fireman hop down from the truck and jogs inside, flashing Harry a smile as he passes by to join the rest of his team in the kitchen.
Harry’s a bit dumbstruck, his eyes following the blond head of hair, and he has to blink a few times because there’s no way a man as attractive as that just walked into his house.
There’s five firemen crowded in Harry’s kitchen, and it seems a bit excessive for just a small kitchen fire, but Harry’s not even paying attention to them. Harry’s still standing outside so he doesn’t get in the way, but his head’s peering around the doorway so he watch them safely put out the fire. At least, that’s what Harry tells himself. He’s transfixed by the blond firefighter, his smile playing over and over in Harry’s mind, hoping he can see it again.
The fire’s extinguished easily (just a regular Tuesday at work for them, Harry supposes), and Harry’s relieved, but he doesn’t want them to leave just yet - well, he doesn’t want the attractive blond to leave without learning his name.
They all file out of Harry’s house, smiling as they walk out and Harry thanks them each in turn, and just like before, the blond is the last to leave. But before he heads back to the truck he stops in front of Harry and says, “All clear.” He’s smiling again and Harry’s finding it hard to keep his heart beating at a normal pace.
“Thanks,” Harry says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels. “Sorry for calling you guys all the way out here for just a kitchen fire.”
The guy just waves him off. “Don’t be. Happens all the time, and we’re here to help.”
“Well, thank you…”
“Niall,” the guy supplies.
“Thank you, Niall,” Harry says, and he likes the sound of it. “I’m Harry.”
“My pleasure, Harry. Just be more careful next time, yeah?” Niall says, and Harry can only nod as he raises his hand like a vow.
“Won’t happen again,” he promises, and he can feel his stomach flip as Niall’s grin grows wider.
“Have a good day, Harry,” Niall says, giving Harry a small wave before he jogs back toward the truck and they disappear out of sight.
-
An hour later there’s an incessant knocking on Harry’s door, so he gets up to open it and comes face to face with Louis, his face sagging with what looks like relief as he pulls Harry into a tight hug.
“Oh, thank God,” Louis mumbles, but Harry’s frozen with his hand on the doorknob as Louis squeezes his shoulders, wondering what this is all about.
“Uh, Lou -”
Louis quickly pulls away, his hands still on Harry’s shoulders as he stares at Harry. “I heard there was a fire, are you alright?”
Harry chuckles as Louis pinches his cheek and raises his arms, obviously inspecting for any damage. “Yes, Louis, I’m fine.”
Louis’ still looking at him skeptically like he doesn’t quite believe him, and Harry’s sure the smile on his face isn’t helping either. It’s been an hour since the firemen and Niall left, but Harry can’t seem to get rid of the smile. He wonders if it’s contagious, like just being in Niall’s presence can put a permanent grin on his lips.
“Then why are you smiling? Your house almost burnt down.”
“First of all, it was just a grease fire,” Harry points out, “and second of all, I can smile whenever I want. Maybe I’m just happy my house didn’t burn down.”
Louis shakes his head disbelievingly. “No, it’s something else, and I’m not leaving until you tell me,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s serious, even though Harry knows he’s not.
“It’s nothing, Louis,” Harry says as seriously as he can, but if he were Louis he wouldn’t buy it either. Louis gives him a look and Harry hates how that’s all it takes to break him. “Fine, there was this firefighter and maybe I thought he was cute,” he admits, trying to avoid eye contact with Louis and the smirk on his face.
“Oh,” Louis says, his lip quirking up even more. “Was he fit?”
“Dunno, I didn’t notice,” Harry says nonchalantly, but they both know it’s a blatant lie.
“What’d he look like?” Louis prods, but Harry just shakes his head, wanting this conversation to end as soon as possible.
“Out,” Harry says firmly, pointing to the door, ignoring the way Louis pretends to pout and look hurt. “I have things to do today that don’t involve you asking me about fit firefighters.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t fit,” Louis says, snickering to himself as Harry physically pushes him out the door.
“Goodbye, Louis,” Harry says pointedly, closing the door behind him.
-
Once Harry’s rid of Louis, he grabs his keys and drives into town in search of paint. Luckily the fire had only left minimal damage, but there were still remnants of smoke on the wall that just wouldn’t wash away.
He pulls up to the paint shop, the one that’s conveniently located next to the fire station - not that Harry’s noticed. He’s here for paint, he reminds himself, but if he just so happens to see a handsome blond-headed firefighter, then that’s just a bonus.
Harry walks into the paint shop, but not before he takes a quick glance next door, and goes back to focusing on the task at hand when he sees no one outside. He’s quick in the shop, knowing exactly what he’s looking for, having painted the entire interior of his house when he moved in a year ago, to brighten the place up.
When he walks back outside with his can of paint, he doesn’t even bother looking to his left, since he was barely in the shop for five minutes and doubts he’d be likely to see anyone outside now, so that’s why when he hears his name being called by a familiar Irish tone he nearly drops his paint.
He turns around to see Niall trying to hold back a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine, I just didn’t see you there.”
“Well, the lads have told me that I do have a habit of sneaking up on them,” Niall says, nodding his head toward the firehouse when Harry looks confused. “Anyway, how’s your kitchen?”
“Good,” Harry says. “No more fires.”
“That’s good to hear,” Niall says, his lips quirking up into a smile that Harry can only imitate.
“Thanks again, for, um, putting it out,” Harry says nervously because he’s not really sure what else to say. All he knows is that he wants to stay here and talk with Niall a little bit longer.
“No need to thank me, it’s just my job,” Niall says earnestly, and Harry can’t help but admire how humble he is; saving lives everyday and acting like it’s no big deal. It was only a fire in his kitchen, but Harry knows if his life was in danger and Niall had been there to rescue him, he’d be forever grateful. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”
It almost sounds like a promise, and Harry doesn’t know what he’s promising, but if it means that he gets to see Niall again, then he’s not going to question it.
“Yeah,” is all Harry says.
“Hopefully it won’t involve a fire,” Niall adds, a slight smirk on his face and all Harry can do is laugh nervously as he walks around to his car and tries to unlock the door without dropping his paint.
-
The weather is steadily warming up and Harry can feel the sun beating down on his back as he runs. He’s taken his usual morning route so far, but his feet take a sharp left and before he knows it he’s passing by the fire station.
It seems a little silly and maybe a little creepy that he keeps showing up near the fire station, but Harry just can’t seem to stop thinking about Niall, and he thinks that if he gets one more glance at Niall it’ll satiate the need and settle his nerves. He knows it won’t, but that doesn’t stop his heart rate from picking up a bit when he spots Niall a few feet away.
There’s two other firefighters outside with him and they’re all washing one of the fire trucks. Niall’s stood on the top, scrubbing the ladder, sans a shirt, and Harry slows to a jog under the pretense of needing a break (which is untrue because Harry can run two miles without stopping) and just watches as the muscles in his back move as he rubs the sponge against the metal of the ladder.
Harry swallows thickly as his eyes wander down to Niall’s pert bum for a few seconds before he has to stop himself because he’s sure it’s obvious that he’s staring, seeing as his feet have stopped moving altogether. He feels like Niall can sense him staring because he glances over his shoulder, and if Harry sprints away to avoid being caught, then he’s the only one that has to know.
-
Harry pulls down the ladder to his attic, climbs up the steps and fits himself through the opening in the ceiling. It’s dark, dusty and a bit humid, reminding Harry why he usually never comes up here, other than to stash away some boxes filled with various things. And that’s why he’s here now, heading straight for the box that he knows holds all his paintbrushes.
He doesn’t have much else to do today so he figures he should repaint his kitchen and make it look somewhat normal again, so it’s not so obvious that he almost burnt it down. He grabs a couple of paintbrushes and crawls back towards the ladder. His foot finds the first step, the second and the third, but on the fourth step his foot slips and he goes tumbling to the ground.
Harry groans as his back hits the floor, and Harry has never hated his clumsy feet more than he does right now. He's just glad that no one was here to see that, but someone might have to because he's afraid to move and he should probably call for help.
He might've broken something for all he knows, and he prays that he hasn't. There's a part of his brain telling him that internally he's fine, but he may wake up with a few bruises. He's being dramatic, and he knows his mind is just preparing him for the worst case scenario, but it scares Harry enough to remain still and just reach for his phone.
If his mum were here he knows she’d do the same thing (albeit a lot less calmly than Harry) so he feels confident in his decision, even if he does turn out to be completely fine, it's better than laying on the floor with a potentially broken rib. It isn't until Harry's dialed 999 that he realizes he's just called Niall to his house for the second time this week.
Less than five minutes later there's a bang and a crash, the distinct sound of Harry's front door being ripped off its hinges. Harry grimaces; now he has to repaint his kitchen and replace his door. However, he forgets it all in an instant when he hears Niall's voice.
“Harry? Are you okay?” His voice is mostly calm, but he also sounds slightly worried, and it's apparent on his face as he kneels down next to Harry. He places a gentle hand on Harry's stomach. It feels warm through the fabric of Harry’s shirt, and he’s pretty sure he can’t breathe.
“Yeah,” Harry breathes, but to Niall it must sound like a lie because he turns his head and signals for someone to come inside. Two women with stethoscopes around their necks crowd around Harry and they quickly begin poking at him and checking his vitals, but he can't really focus on that when Niall's hand moves to his shoulder, still soft and comforting.
“What happened?” Niall asks gently.
“I was getting some paintbrushes from the attic so I could repaint the kitchen, and as I was climbing down my foot slipped and here I am. I'm a bit of a klutz,” Harry says, and punctuates it with a hiss when one of the ladies presses on his ribs.
“Well, the good news is that it doesn't look like you've broken anything,” Niall starts and Harry physically relaxes, but braces himself for what Niall has to say next, “but it does look like you might have a bruised rib. Can you try sitting up?” Harry looks between Niall and the two nurses, waiting for them to nod or acknowledge what Niall said, because as much as he trusts Niall, he's not a medical professional. Niall seems to sense his hesitancy and laughs. “It's alright, I know what I'm doing. I went to medical school for a few years before I decided to become a firefighter.”
“Really?” Harry asks, looking up at him curiously. “What made you change?”
“My brother’s house caught on fire a few years ago. No one was hurt, luckily, but his wife and my nephew were inside when it started, and I don't know what I would've done if anything happened to them,” Niall says softly, and there's an edge of sadness to his voice that Harry can relate to. If something like ever happened to his mum or Gemma, he probably would've done the same thing. “So I decided to become a firefighter because I didn't want that to happen to anyone else.”
“Don't you get scared, running into a burning building?” Harry questions.
“All the time,” Niall admits, and it twists something in Harry's gut, the way someone can be scared and fearless at the same time; he's got a lot more respect for Niall and all the other firefighters in the world.
“What about your mum? She must worry,” Harry says, because he could only imagine how his own mother would react if he told her he wanted to run into burning buildings for a living.
Niall laughs again, and Harry ignores the way his heart skips a beat at the sound. “Of course she does, what mother wouldn't? But she sees me save lives everyday, and I love helping people so she's more than proud.” Harry smiles, and next to him, the nurses pack up their stuff and head of his house. “Looks like you're good to go.”
“Thanks,” Harry says softly and Niall returns his smile.
“Just doing my job,” he says. “Which means I'm also obligated to tell you to be more careful.”
“I can promise you that I'll try, but I can't promise you that I won't hurt myself again.”
“Fair enough,” Niall says, offering a hand to help Harry up. He takes it willingly, a warm sensation shooting up his arm where their hands touch. His side still hurts a bit, but he barely even notices it. “How're your ribs?”
“Fine,” Harry lies, and Niall gives him a look.
“Just take it easy, yeah?” Niall says and Harry just nods as he watches Niall walk out of his house and he’s left standing in the middle of his living room with the phantom feeling of Niall’s hand on his stomach.
-
Harry’s making himself a cup of tea when he first hears the siren. He doesn’t think anything of it, except for a passing thought of Niall and how he’s probably off to save another life. But then the sound grows closer, the siren blaring louder each second, and Harry almost thinks they’re headed straight for him, but he would remember if he called the fire department again.
He’s still confused when it sounds like the fire truck’s right outside his house. He walks into his living room and peeks through his curtains to see that there is a fire truck sitting across the street and sees three firemen, including Niall, hop down from the truck and run toward his neighbor, Linda’s oak tree.
Harry abandons his tea and walks outside because he’s a concerned neighbor, and he’s just glad to see Niall when he isn’t the one who called for help. He sees Linda standing under the tree, clutching her hands close to her chest as she stares worriedly up into the branches. Obviously someone or something is stuck up in the tree, but Harry can’t see anything through the leaves.
He crosses the street and joins Linda as she watches Niall climb a ladder up into the tree where he can finally see what all the fuss is about - there’s a shaking kitten meowing weakly from its perch on one of the branches.
“Oh, Harry,” Linda says, reaching for his arm and gripping tightly. “Thank God you’re here. I thought I nearly lost Mittens. Luckily she was just in the tree, but she won’t come down. Poor thing’s probably frightened to death.”
Harry pats comfortingly at her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Niall’ll save her,” he says, glancing at Linda for a brief second to flash her a smile before his eyes return to Niall, who has now retrieved Mittens from the tree and has her tucked safely under his arm.
It’s almost like he’s seeing a different side to Niall, one that’ll save any life, human or feline, and it's just one of the many attractive traits about Niall. He must be the perfect man, Harry thinks, because he knows if he brought Niall home to his mother, she would approve.
He's getting a bit ahead of himself; he has to ask him out first. It seems simple enough, but his throat goes dry when Niall comes over and hands Mittens over to Linda.
“Here you go, safe and sound,” Niall says to Linda before his eyes land on Harry. “Hey, Harry. Long time no see,” he jokes.
Harry chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.” Linda leaves them alone after she thanks Niall at least three times for saving Mittens, but Niall only smiles and says it was no problem. Harry wonders if he's always been this humble, or if it's come with the job and being considered a hero all the time. “That happen a lot?” he asks, nodding his head toward the now kitten-free tree.
“Sometimes,” Niall says “It’s a lot less terrifying than a fire, though.” He smiles and Harry smiles back.
“I thought firemen rescuing kittens was something that you only saw in those shirtless calendars.”
Niall laughs. “Well, it's not exactly something we train for, but we're here to help in any emergency,” he says and Harry nods. One of the other firemen calls Niall's name and Niall raises his hand in acknowledgment. “Sorry, but I gotta get back to the station, but I'll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah, you will,” Harry says, because he will see Niall again, and he's got the perfect plan on how to do it.
-
“You need to borrow my cat?” Louis asks, looking at Harry incredulously. It's a stupid idea, Harry knows, but it's going to work, he knows, except he's missing the most important aspect of this plan, so he's here.
“Only for like, an hour,” he reasons, trying to make it sound less serious than it is, but Louis’ looking at him like he's asked for his first born child.
“Why?” Louis asks. He's still studying Harry like he's trying to figure out Harry's ulterior motive, and Harry doesn't even get the chance to formulate a response before Louis says, “This wouldn't have anything to do with that firefighter, would it?”
Harry shifts his weight from one foot to the other, averting his gaze away from Louis before he mumbles, “Maybe.”
“For God’s sake, Harry, just ask him out!”
“I'm trying!” Harry defends, trying not to sound like a petulant child.
“And you need my cat to do that?” Louis counters, and Harry nods meekly, looking back at Louis to gauge his reaction. His face is unreadable, but eventually he sighs and says, “Fine, if it'll get you to leave me alone. But if this doesn't work then I'm never letting you borrow anything from me ever again.”
“He'll be safe, I promise,” Harry ensures, but he knows no matter what he says that the skeptical look on Louis’ face won't go away. He's already surprised that Louis agreed so fast; he thought he would've had to do a lot more convincing.
Now Harry’s standing under another oak tree, the one that provides shade to his backyard in the heat of summer, as he waits for the distinct sound of the fire truck. He smiles to himself when he finally hears it whirring down the street, and he thinks it’s a bit worrisome that he’s smiling when there’s a cat stuck in a tree. Obviously Harry knows that he’s not stuck, but Niall doesn’t know that, and it’d probably look more than a bit weird.
He schools his face into a more concerned expression as Niall jumps down from the truck and rushes over; Harry tries not to think about how warm and firm Niall’s hand feels on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Niall asks.
“My cat, Donnie, is stuck in the tree,” Harry says, trying to seem as worried as Linda had been for Mittens.
“Oh,” Niall says, glancing up into the tree before he looks back at Harry, his face remaining neutral, but his eyebrow raises in curiosity. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“Yeah, well, he likes to be outdoors, as you can see,” Harry says, gesturing up towards the tree.
“Then how do you know he’s stuck?” Niall wonders, and it doesn’t sound accusatory, just like he’s trying to understand the situation.
“I - I just do,” Harry stammers out, because Donnie, for the most part, looks like he’s just chilling out in the tree. Harry had tried to coach him earlier, telling him that he had to look as scared as possible, which Harry realized was pointless because Donnie is just as stubborn as Louis. “He’s just trying to remain calm, he’s very afraid of heights.”
“Is that so?” Niall asks, and at this point Harry can tell that Niall doesn’t believe him because there’s a slight smirk on his face like he knows what Harry’s plan is, and when Harry looks back up at Donnie, he still looks nonplussed, his tail is flicking back and forth lazily like he’s enjoying the view.
Niall doesn’t say anything about it though, just climbs the ladder like he had the other day and carefully retrieves Donnie from the branches. He meows in protest as he’s placed back in Harry’s arms and all Harry wants to do is run back inside and hide because he’s sure Niall’s about to call him out for faking an emergency, but Niall just smiles at him and says, “Have a good day, Harry.”
Harry’s too embarrassed to say anything else.
-
Even though Harry’s plan didn’t quite work out the way he wanted it to, he still wants to thank Niall for rescuing Donnie, and all the other times that Niall and his team have come to Harry's aid. So he brings a tray full of five different kinds of cookies to the fire station to show his appreciation for their help, and to finally stop playing games and just Niall out for coffee or something.
After Harry had returned Donnie to Louis, he fixed Harry with an I-told-you-so look and told Harry to just man up and ask him out . Louis’ voice is ringing in his head now, and it seems easy in theory, but when Harry sees Niall sitting atop the truck with a beer in his hand, looking out toward the skyline, the words get stuck in his throat.
“Hey,” Niall greets, diverting his attention away from the horizon when he sees Harry walk up. “Your cat stuck up a tree again?”
Harry tries to laughs, but it sounds forced. “No, I just came by to say thanks for saving Donnie and everything else you've done for me, so these are for you,” he says, motioning to the tray of cookies in his hands.
“Well, thanks. That's very thoughtful of you, Harry, but you don't have to thank us every time we do our job,” Niall says, climbing down from the truck so he can sneak a cookie off the tray and take a bite.
“I know, but I want to,” Harry says softly.
“You know what, I take that back. If you make cookies like this, you can thank us anytime you want. These taste just like the ones from the bakery,” he marvels, reaching for a second cookie, and Harry grins.
“I know,” Harry repeats. “I own it.”
“The bakery?” Niall asks, lifting an eyebrow and Harry nods. “Well, in that case I might have to drop by sometime.”
The opportunity is right in front of him, he can sense it, and Harry opens his mouth to utter those seven simple words, do you want to go for coffee? but the sentence dies on his tongue when another fireman says they've just gotten a call and they've got to go. Harry tries not to let the disappointment show on his face as Niall apologizes while simultaneously thanking him for the cookies and Harry's left wondering how he's supposed to ask him out now.
-
Owning a bakery doesn't really require Harry to be there everyday of the week, but today he decided to come in. He kind of misses interacting with everyone, like he used when he was sixteen and worked in his first bakery and sparked his passion for baking.
It's a bit of a slow day, so Harry sets about cleaning the shop, scrubbing down all the tables, chairs and counters, and he's bent over a table in the corner with his back facing the door when he hears the bell above the door ring.
“Hello,” he greets before he's fully turned around, and he's pleasantly surprised to see Niall standing there, looking equally as pleased.
“Hi,” Niall says simply. He's standing with his hands in his pockets as his eyes keep flitting around the shop, and for the first time, Harry wonders if he's nervous.
“Day off?” Harry asks when he notices Niall's out of uniform, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a white shirt.
Niall glances down at himself, letting out a breathy laugh as he nods. “Yeah. Had a bit of a sweet tooth so I decided to stop by.” Harry smiles at that, because he didn't think Niall actually meant it, just said it to be nice like most people do, but the fact that he's actually here is making Harry's chest feel tight. “Any recommendations?”
“Um, well,” Harry starts, walking back around the counter so he can stand behind the display case. “I might be a little biased, but I think everything here is great.” Niall smiles, and it seems genuine, unlike the pity laughs he usually gets. “But honestly, I always get compliments on my scones, and the cupcakes are the most popular.”
“I'll take one of each then,” Niall says, and Harry nods, placing the scone in a bag and boxing up the cupcake, handing them both over to Niall. Niall hands him a couple of notes to pay for the sweets, and he uses the time it takes Harry to make change to take a quick bite of the cupcake. “This is amazing,” he says, and Harry tries not to stare at the way Niall licks the frosting off his lips.
“Thanks,” Harry says softly, and he's afraid Niall's going to leave now that he's satisfied his sweet tooth, but that's the last thing Harry wants because he promised himself he'd ask Niall out the next time he saw him, and since they're the only two in the shop, they won't be interrupted this time. “Niall?”
“Hm?” Niall hums, mouthing chewing around another bite of cupcake.
“Can I ask you something?” he asks before he can lose his nerve, but Niall's looking at him so eagerly, staring straight at him that Harry nearly loses his breath. His face is so soft and his eyes are so blue - Jesus, Harry thinks, why is everything about him so beautiful? “Do you always drink on the job?”
As soon as it's out of his mouth, Harry wants to slap himself. Harry's not a nervous person, but it seems that whenever he's within a five foot radius of Niall, his brain becomes a jumbled mess. He thinks he can play it off though, because it is a valid question, having seen him with a beer when he delivered the cookies, but Niall just looks confused, like that wasn't the question he was expecting.
“That's what you wanted to ask me? I thought you were finally gonna ask me out,” Niall says, and Harry's eyes instantly go wide. There's no way he heard that right.
“What?” Harry asks, because that's the only word his mind can form at the moment.
Niall laughs gently. “Well, you've called the fire department more times in the past two weeks than most people do in their entire lives, so I thought you were either really clumsy or you had some other reason, and it became very apparent when you had me rescue a cat that wasn't even yours.”
Harry wants to hide in shame, but there's really no point when Niall can see right through him. “You knew?” Niall nods, a small smirk on his lips like he's enjoying Harry's embarrassment. “Then why did you let me make a fool out of myself?”
“Because you're cute,” Niall says, and Harry can feel his cheeks heat up. “And I'd like to go on a date with you, if that's okay.”
Harry nods, mirroring the way Niall smiles at him. Niall moves closer so only the counter separates them, and suddenly Harry's very aware that it's just the two of them in the shop. Niall's still smiling and Harry finds his eyes drawn down to Niall's mouth where there's a smear of chocolate icing on his lip. “You've, uh, got something here,” Harry says, motioning toward his mouth.
“Get it for me?” Niall asks, leaning in that much closer, and Harry can feel his heart beating like he's just ran a mile. He carefully raises his hand and brushes his thumb over Niall's bottom lip, feeling Niall's soft lip as he wipes away the icing. Harry looks back up at Niall and pulls his hand away quickly when they lock gazes.
It's so quiet in the bakery, Harry's sure they can both hear his heart pounding in his chest, and it doesn't help when Niall's eyes drift down towards Harry's mouth before he places a gentle hand to Harry's cheek and guides him forward.
Their lips meet, and Harry sighs against it, Niall's lips feeling just as soft as when he had touched them, but this is even better. He tastes like coffee and chocolate and Harry thinks it's the perfect combination. The counter’s digging into his stomach and his palms are becoming sweaty, but Harry can't even focus on either of those things when Niall's kissing him.
“So, can I pick you up at seven?” Niall asks when he finally pulls away, Harry's mind still buzzing from the kiss.
“Yeah,” Harry says quickly, wondering if he should wait until after the date to kiss Niall again.