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Niall looked up from his notebook and stared at the desk beside him for the third time that period. He liked to think he was being subtle, but that might just not be the case. It wasn’t his fault, really. No one could blame him for being distracted. It’s just that it wasn’t fair. Why had a guy, who was obviously not the least interested in what any of the teachers had to say, gotten an A on a test Niall had studied so hard for only to get a B+ on? It was bloody unfair and he was just pissed.
Let it be clear he wasn’t a nerd. No, really. He wasn’t the kind of lad who would freak out if he didn’t get a perfect score, or spend his Friday nights playing Zelda or whatever. And he was definitely not a teacher’s pet. Niall was as normal as one can be, or so he believed. He did his chores, he stayed out of trouble, he was polite to everybody, and he went out with his mates every weekend to watch footie or hang out at the pubs around town which allowed underage kids to get in just to play pool. Not that he’d have to wait much longer to be allowed to drink, anyway, being seventeen and all. But yeah, he was a regular guy doing regular things with his regular teenage life.
And then there was Harry.
Niall hated his stupid guts. But then again, he might have to rethink the “stupid” part now that he’d seen the capitol A mocking him on that goddamned test. Harry’d been quick to put it away in the middle of his wrecked notebook before anyone could see it, almost as if he were embarrassed by it. But Niall’d seen it. He’d seen it and now he couldn’t focus on anything else for the entire day.
Here’s a few things Niall knew about Harry. He was always late for class (that is, when he bothered to show up) and he looked bored out of his arse most of the time, except for creative writing and woodwork workshop. Bloody woodwork! Plus he had all these piercings on his ears and face and tattoos all over his left arm, which made him look like a gang member to say the least, in Niall’s opinion. He couldn’t even understand how he hadn’t been expelled already. Even though he mostly kept quiet in the classroom, Niall knew for a fact he was a troublemaker outside of it. He’d seen him punch the living breath out of at least five different kids in the almost two years they’d studied together, although, if he was going to be perfectly honest, one of the boys had it coming on one of those occasions, for being a total prick to one of their classmates for stuttering. Ok, ok… So Harry might have been defending someone on that particular incident. But still! Niall saw the smug look on his face whenever someone made fun of his clothes or his hair around school, and he looked like he was reveling in it. Like he was silently saying “come on, I dare you to say it to my face.” Like he was always just waiting for a good fight.
He was also sort of an enigma at times, and Niall hated that as well. Like when the teacher asked him something in class and he obviously knew the answer but deliberately chose to say he didn’t. Niall could tell when he was lying, because he would smirk for half a second before refusing to answer. Not that Niall spent every minute of his school life minding what the other kid was doing, it was just that they’d sat beside each other for almost two years, and you kind of start grasping on stuff like that. Right? And it made his mind wander, that’s all. Like why couldn’t he act normal like everyone else? Why couldn’t he just wear a plain shirt and jeans like all Niall’s mates and like 99% of the boys in school? Why did he have to walk around all superior in his ripped black skinny jeans, obscure band t-shirts, torn boots, and lip piercing like he was better than them?
And what had nearly killed Niall that particular afternoon was realizing just then that Harry was indeed better than him at something, and that was fucking European History. Which just happened to be his favorite subject.
Harry looked right back at him as he dwelled on those petty thoughts and Niall flushed all over. He hated to be caught off guard like that, especially by Harry, who seemed somehow able to read his mind every time he looked directly at him with those mischievous green eyes.
“S’matter, blondie? Did you lose something over here?”
Niall shook his head in a negative, unable to form a coherent response. Harry was always calling him blondie in class, from a simple “Hey, blondie, lend me a pencil.” to “Can you believe this bullshit assignment, blondie?” or even “Whassup, blondie, what did I miss?” if he’d arrived late, and it made Niall so bloody frustrated not being capable to snap back a good reply, not even once! It was so unjust. What a guy like Harry needed was someone to show him they weren’t scared of him or the pins on his denim jacket, and to tell him he should know better than give people nicknames they didn’t ask for, or you know, punch people during P.E. and shit.
Unfortunately that someone wasn’t Niall, since Harry looking at him for more than three seconds straight was enough to make his heart start racing painfully in his chest. He didn’t get it! He wasn’t a shy guy, he was actually pretty sociable! It made him cross to no extent feeling like that whenever Harry spoke to him. And that was driving him mad.
So he made a decision that afternoon. That freaking A had been the last drop. He was going to ask Harry, man to man, right up front, if he’d cheated on that History test. He just had to know! He refused to accept that someone could be that sloppy and irresponsible and overwhelming and provocative, and still manage to be smart! Niall simply had to make sense of the world as he knew it once again. And in his normal regular world, guys like Harry weren’t supposed to make him feel all bothered like that. Damn it. He couldn’t even tell his friends about how affected he was by it, because they wouldn’t get it. ‘Cos it really wasn’t like Niall to care about other kids’ grades or whatever. He was the most laid back person they knew.
Except when it came to Harry fucking Styles. His whole existence made him unbelievably uncomfortable.
But today was the day. He was going to confront him, even though the whole thing sounded idiotic in his head, it didn’t matter. It was just something he had to do. He needed to at least say something to the guy or else he’d live the rest of sixth form in complete and utter distress.
Niall heard the bell ring after what it felt like four thousand years, and before he could even manage to gather his materials in his backpack, Harry had already vanished from the class, always being the first one to disappear out the door. But Niall knew where he was going. He’d always meet his friend Zayn behind the school for a smoke or a beer, or whatever it was that hooligans like them did on their spare time. Zayn was a year ahead of them, and Niall thought that made sense. Harry would never make friends with anyone from their class, the snob. No one went to that particular area of the school, because they weren’t allowed to, it was way too secluded for anything good to be going on there, but Harry obviously didn’t care.
And neither did Niall on that day, because he was willing to break school rules if that meant he’d have some peace from now on.
He’d rehearsed a little speech. First, he would ask him if he had indeed cheated on Mr. Jones’ test. Second, he was going to tell him to stop calling him blondie. And third, he was going to ask him why the hell he felt the need to be so weird all the time?
That was it. It was stupid, he was quite aware. But it was important to him. He had some integrity after all, and that was probably why it was bothering him so much. It had nothing to do with how anxious he felt when Harry’s fingers brushed against his own as he leaned over his desk to grab his pencil sharpener without asking, or with the obscenities he’d shout at the lads for making fun of the nerds like he’d been personally offended, or even with when he’d show up wearing a ragged Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt and Niall had to fight the urge to tell him he loved that band, for the simple reason that he couldn’t open his mouth to say a fucking word without choking before Harry could even acknowledge he was being spoken to.
Ok. Those days were over, Niall thought as he walked around the school. If Zayn was there, he’d just ask if he could talk to Harry privately for a second. No big deal. People have private talks on school ground all the time. It was going to be fine.
Niall would be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking relieved, though, to see Harry was alone, leaning against a wall, while he finished up a cigarette. So predictable, Niall thought, even though, he felt his guts twitch at the sight. He took a deep breath and walked up to Harry like he was going to war.
“Get a grip on yourself, Horan. It’s not like he’s gonna kick your arse for just asking a question.”
Or maybe he would, who knows? Niall certainly didn’t.
Harry had discarded the rest of his cigarette and stepped on it, before taking a crumpled package out of his jacket’s inner pocket for a fresh one when he spotted Niall. He grinned in a way that made him almost stop talking, not knowing if that was a good sign or not. Harry put the cigarette back on the package and crossed his arms, like he was defying him to get any closer. He was wearing a Banshees t-shirt today, but not that same Niall always saw him in, and he almost asked about it instead of his pre-planned greeting. But he stopped himself in time. He wasn’t there to make friends with Harry, after all.
As if he ever could.
“Ahn, Harry… Can I talk to you for a second?” was what he said instead, standing right in front of him in a way that cast a bit of shadow over the other boy, even though Niall was quite shorter. He was afraid that if he kept a longer distance, he might chicken out and beat retreat.
Harry let out a dry laugh, but he looked more amused than ever.
“Niall Horan is finally talking to me! To what do I owe the pleasure?” His tone was one of mockery, but Niall couldn’t help but notice he actually seemed a bit excited about it.
“Wha- what do you mean? I’ve talked to you before. We’ve sat next to each other for almost two years.”
“Yeah, and the only words you’ve ever actually said to me during this time were ‘Ok.’, ‘Yeah.’ and ‘Right.’, one every six months, if I’m not mistaken. Tis’ almost like you’re afraid of me or something.”
Niall blushed fervently and suddenly he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say next. He wasn’t expecting this. Ok, he didn’t know exactly what he was expecting. But this wasn’t it. What did Harry care if he hadn’t spoken to him so far? Was he waiting for Niall to come talk to him or something? That couldn’t be it. Impossible.
“I-I’m not afraid of you.” Was all Niall managed to say, beating himself up for letting his voice crack a little.
But it was alright. That was good. That was actually one of the things he was actually meaning to say. One thing to cross off his “Things I want to say to Harry Styles” list. Not that he actually kept such a list, cos’ that would be creepy, of course. But he’d made it. He wasn’t afraid of him. The rest should be easy.
“No?” Harry asked, straightening up, and only then Niall noticed how close he was really standing. Niall felt his own sweaty fingers closed tightly against his palms as the taller boy leaned down, speaking smoothly into his ear. “Not even a little?”
And that was the exact moment Niall knew it had all gone to hell. He was never going to be able to say what he wanted to say. Not when his knees felt like giving up and his mouth went dry. He was so distressed he’d shut his eyes without noticing, which made him feel Harry’s breath on his neck even more intensely in the brief second he was leaning down. When he opened them, Harry was staring at him again, a knowing look on his face, as he played with the metal ring hanging on the corner of his bottom lip.
“I wanted to ask you something.” Niall looked down at his own feet, trying not to think of what Harry was doing. What was the point of having a piercing there, anyway? It couldn’t be comfortable. It probably felt cold against his lips.
“Oh, yeah? What is it?”
“I-I wanted to know if… ahn… Did you cheat on Mr. Jones’ test?” Niall blustered out, before he lost his nerve.
Harry cackled at that, throwing his head back, making his curls bounce on his shoulders. He looked even smuggier when he laughed like that, if that was possible. Niall was about to lose his shit.
“Is that what you were worried about? Jesus, blondie, I didn’t take you for a straight shooter.”
“I am not! I just… “ Niall took a deep breath, building up his courage. “I don’t think it’s fair, I mean, if you despise school so much, why cheat on a test just for a good grade? If you’re such a fucking badass, why would you care what marks you get, anyway? It makes no sense. And quit calling me blondie!”
Well, so much for his practiced civilized speech.
Harry made the most delighted face at Niall’s heated spurt out, like he had no idea the shorter boy had it in him and that seemed to stir his lust for provocation in a matter of seconds. He didn’t seem bothered by the accusation in the slightest, which made Niall even more confused. It was almost as if he was enjoying being attacked like that.
“Are you pissed, blondie?” he made the distance between their faces almost inexistent, making Niall feel his minty breath again, now against his own mouth. “What if I did cheat on that test, huh? What you gonna do about it? Are you gonna tell on me?”
“You’re such a bloody hypocrite…” Niall said in a weak mutter, his irritation making his voice sound hoarse despite his outrage. “Acting like you’re so different from us with your Siouxsie Sioux t-shirts and piercings and cool hair, when you’re just another poser!”
Harry smiled even brighter at that and Niall regretted his words the second they came out, realizing it was obviously not having the desired effect on Harry (what was the desired effect again?), since the boy in front of him seemed to be relishing tremendously on whatever it was that was going on between them.
“You should get this angry more often” Niall felt a hand on his thigh, which made him gasp, only then noticing he was being pushed against the same wall Harry had been leaning on when he arrived there. “I like it, it’s cute.”
“Wha-?” Niall asked, at a complete lost for words as he felt Harry’s lips brush against his. This was definitely not what he’d planned to happen. Didn’t the boy before him listen to what he’d just said? He called him a hypocrite! Wasn’t that supposed to make him mad? At this point, Niall wanted him to get mad! It was better than feeling this powerless.
But then again, a punch on the face would definitely not feel as good as Harry’s hands under his shirt. Was this real life? Was Harry Styles feeling him up? Niall had no idea what to make of it, except for the fact that he was somehow enjoying it? And realization was starting to hit him hard.
He couldn’t fucking believe it.
“Wait-I-that’s not what I came here for!” He said, trying to catch his breath the second he felt Harry’s hand moving to the front of his jeans. Harry immediately stopped what he was doing, straddling him instead against the wall.
“Why did you come here, then, blondie? You fucking eat me up with your eyes whenever we have class together, and when I try and talk to you, you just nod or turn your face away. What is it you want, huh? You wanna know if I cheated on a fucking test?”
Niall let out a restricted moan when Harry pushed his hips against his, incapable of hiding his arousal, which served as a green light for the boy to start kissing his neck. He knew he was getting hard, but it wasn’t until he felt the cold metal ring behind his ear, sending chills all over his body, that he knew why he hated Harry so much. What the last year and a half had been about.
Harry was way too fucking hot and Niall didn’t know how to deal with the fact that he was attracted to absolutely everything about him. To his voice, his hair, his lips, his style, his temper, his music preference, even his completely bored face during Economics class.
“Or you want me to touch you like this?” Harry asked again, his hand now inside Niall’s jeans, stroking him unbelievably slow, like he was genuinely waiting for an answer. Niall tried to suppress the whimper that left his throat, to no avail.
“I-I don’t care if you cheated on the test. I just… I wanted to find something wrong with you.”
Harry then turned his face back to Niall, holding his chin up with his free hand. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he pressed their lips together, kissing him hard, making Niall groan when he realized Harry had a tongue piercing as well, a notion that went straight to his dick, already sensitive from all the gentle stroking he was receiving. Niall’s mind was a complete mess, he wasn’t quite understanding why Harry was giving him the time of day in the first place. To put it lightly. He was very aware of why he was letting him do it, though. It felt too good, Harry’s hands were big and rough and he couldn’t help but think he wanted them all over him, even though part of him hated that lack of self-control. Was Harry just messing with him? Because, oh boy, was he succeeding. Those thoughts kind of turned into a blur when he felt Harry pull him closer so he could feel his own hard-on. Niall began to panic as he realized he was about to come in a matter of seconds, just from that rough tug.
“Harry…” He tried to move his lips away, holding him by his upper arms. “Please, stop, I can’t hold it…”
“So what, baby? Afraid of getting caught?” Harry smiled, highly satisfied, obviously noticing how close to the edge Niall was getting, twitching in his hand. “Is this why you never answer when I talk to you in class? Feel you won’t be able to contain yourself?”
Niall stifled another moan, feeling highly embarrassed. He tightened his grip on Harry’s arms, trying not to be too loud as he felt the brunette move his lips back to his neck as his hand movements grew faster. He felt the tongue piercing rubbing against the sensitive skin before Harry started sucking on his neck obscenely. It was undoubtedly bound to leave a bruise.
“Harry, I’m gonna…”
“It’s alright, blondie. I get it. You’ve been holding it in for three fucking semesters, haven’t you?”
But Niall wasn’t able to give it a proper reply as he reached his orgasm with a soft broken moan, not even realizing he was pulling Harry’s face for a sloppy kiss while at it, to each Harry gladly obliged.
Five seconds later, Harry backed away, reaching for the forgotten package inside his jacket, as Niall tried to even his frantic breathing, using the wall behind him for support.
“So,” Harry started, lighting up the cigarette he was about to start when Niall had approached him. “You know Siouxsie Sioux, huh? That’s cool.”
Niall widened his eyes, before zipping up his jeans awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands afterwards. He was still riding his orgasm high, but somehow managed to form a coherent phrase.
“Ahn… yeah, I like her music.”
Harry nodded approvingly, putting his lighter away in his back pocket, before adjusting himself unashamedly, and Niall could see just how hard he still was. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information, though.
“Just so you know, I didn’t cheat on the bloody test.” Harry said then, making the distance between them much bigger than before, and Niall realized he wasn’t about to ask anything from him right then. “I just happen to dig European History, that’s all.”
Now it was Niall’s time to nod, not knowing what to say next.
Now that was a lie. He knew fully well what he wanted to say.
He wanted Harry to kiss him again. He wanted to tell him he didn’t think he was weird at all.
He also knew he wasn’t gonna say it. He was too dumbstruck to think straight.
But Harry seemed to grasp on the meaning of that silence, before even Niall understood it. He smiled playfully and took a drag on his cigarette.
“Seems we’ve settled things, then.” He said with a wink, before turning around and walking away. “See you around, blondie.”
Niall definitely didn’t hate Harry Styles.