The Weekend (Narry)

sé déag

"Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it stops and starts."
Edgar Allan Poe

It lasts longer than Harry thought it was going to, if he's being honest. Harry figured Niall would push him off, storm out of the room, yell at him in Irish, smack him, probably. He hadn't been expecting much from the kiss, maybe two or three seconds, but Niall allows for it to last a little longer. Okay, a lot longer.

Harry isn't sure exactly how it happens. He can't be certain either of them really know. Just two hours ago Harry had been dead set on getting to Dublin and proposing to Louis. He had been certain it was what he wanted. Now though, with Harry's legs wrapped around Niall's and Niall's hands in Harry's hair, the mixture of excitement, regret, and an overpowering sense of not wanting to get caught, both men are lost to the recent past. For a minute or two, anyway.

"Stop, Harry." Niall pulls away, pushing on Harry's chest. "Stop, stop, stop."

"What?"

The bartender half laughs, a bitter sound. "Like you don't fucking know what."

"I'm drunk off loneliness, you know that." Harry fixes the hair falling into his face. "And what you said..."

"I didn't think that meant." Niall starts. "I wasn't. You weren't supposed to cheat on your husband. That isn't what I meant."

"But I thought you said I love him like a coworker."

"I'm not a professional on love! I don't have the Kama Sutra memorized. I'm a lonely guy who serves alcohol and makes food for other lonely guys. I've also told you to kidnap a child. Why are you taking my word as the end-all-be-all?" Niall's voice gets a little loud toward the end of his sermon, and Harry shushes him.

"We can just forget it happened."

"Right. We should forget it." Niall nods, turning over onto lay his back. Harry does the same.

"It didn't happen."

"Of course. Why would it happen?"

"Right? We don't even get on." Harry points out, Niall nodding his head in agreement.

"I want to kill you seventy five percent of the time."

"Same, same."

"Right."

"Right." Harry rolls onto his side again. "I'm going to propose to my husband, and I'm not going to kiss you, because you aren't him."

"Setting the world back onto the proper axis."

"Right."

"Right." Niall rolls over, tired of looking at a ceiling unable to smile back. He meets Harry's gaze, and the two of them are quiet.