They sit on
the sofa on Christmas Eve, him and Niall, while Harry and Bobby make a mess of
Niall’s kitchen. Niall’s been banned for a week already. First by his dad, who
forever and always will curse the presence of Niall’s feet upon the countertops
and slap them away, and then by Harry, who’s all for kisses at all hours of the
day, apart from when he’s trying to
cook a nice meal for the family. Their
family, which they no longer hesitate to scream about from streets and rooftops
and tops of lungs. It’s set. This is it.
stolen gingerbread cookies from his own cupboard, and is letting Danny pick out
all the tree-shaped ones to nibble on as a movie plays on an iPad on Niall’s
lap. It’s how they do it, mostly. Something about the intimacy of curling
around the device that Danny seems to favour over the long-distance relationship
to a tv-screen, and Niall won’t hesitate to say just how much he loves it, too.
Has done so ever since that first time they did it, on the sofa in the studio,
when the boy crushed all barriers and barged right through Niall’s heart. There’s
a shape of him there, now, that Niall hopes will never grow hollow. That he can’t
imagine ever will grow hollow because
he’s got the boy leant up against him, now, just the way it’s supposed to be.
The way it always is. Leant into Niall’s side with that ever-present hand in
search of assurance pressed to Niall’s thigh as colourful scenes capture them
both on the screen.
Christmas-themed. Not Dusty, either, though. Hasn’t been Planes or Cars ever since
that fateful dinner several weeks back when Niall confessed the panda to be his
favourite animal and was met with absolute soul-crushing hope in wide, blue,
two-and-a-half year-old eyes later on in the living room when Danny suggested
that they’d watch Kung Fu Panda
before bedtime this time. It’s been Kung
Fu Panda at least once a week ever since, because there’s pride and
excitement bursting in those same eyes every time Danny asks Niall to put it on
– every time he waits for Niall to beam in response to that act of selfless
care and beams right back when he’s rewarded with it. Because Niall’s happiness
means that much to him. Because Niall’s
become that important.
heart is heavy with that shape of Danny. With emotions. With importance in the
iPad in his lap that sways a little when Danny suddenly pushes himself off a
little, and consequently pushes the device a bit off balance. Niall just waits
it out. Expects a yawn, or a small hand reaching for another cookie, or maybe a
sign of boredom. Doesn’t expect that small hand to reach for his own, though. Doesn’t expect a tug of his
own fingers to turn his palm around, or the careful, careful fumbling of smaller fingers across his own palm – a look of
concentration on Danny’s face as he slowly slots his fingers between Niall’s
and works for a couple of minutes to get it just
right. To fit small ones with big ones. To lie his palm against Niall’s. To
close any and all space by squeezing his hand around Niall’s the best he can
and hold on – watch the rest of the movie like that as though something
monumental and heart-stopping didn’t just occur.
haha so im lobby supervising right and it comes time for the movie to play and im getting ready and BAM i realize my projectionist never showed up -_- so i have to run up to the booth to get ready (up A lot of stairs) and then run down and have someone else do the raffle so I can run back up to start the movie and turn down the lights so rn literally the entire theater is being run by me. im in charge of the lobby on the ground and projecting at the same time what fun hhaahaa
You’re in my arms and all the world is calm. The music playing on for only two.
A very rushed drawing for soriku day because to day was busy, but I desperately wanted to put something out today. I won’t let something as frivolous as an occupation get in the way of soriku day. nope.
I wanna sit in his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms squeezing him into the tightest hug he’s ever had. I want him to hug me back tightly, but then softly lay his palms on my shoulders and grip lightly to peel me away from him, but just for a moment– just long enough for him to look me in the eyes and tell me how much he loves me. Then he’d pull me back into his embrace, and as he did he’d give me a kiss on my forehead. His lips would linger for a moment, then he’d continue pulling me into his chest. He’d gently twirl his fingers through my hair and tell me stories. And I’d feel safer than ever before.