niall in that eagles shirt

anonymous asked:

Your college au one shot was so good! I thought it was sweet that Harry went out and got an Eagles t-shirt, a band Niall loves, just to get him to notice him and now it's one of Niall's favorite t-shirts to wear. Narry are just so cute!

Thank youuuu, Non-Non!! That was the one thing I had planned from the beginning; that it would essentially come full circle for them, and the shirt would just eventually become more Niall’s than Harry’s over time. I’m glad you liked it!

It’s 2016 but I still can’t get over the fact that Harry bought Niall that Eagles shirt that they eventually shared.

Like, imagine, Harry, wandering alone inside random antique shop, and his eyes caught on the shirt and his first thought was to buy it and give it to Niall…like….urgh


Beginning . Accusation . Restless . Snowflake . Haze . Flame . Formal . Companion . Move . Silver . Prepared . Knowledge . Denial . Winter . Order . Thanks . Look . Summer . Transformation . Tremble . Sunrise . Mad . Thousand

Harry isn’t sure what he’s doing outside Niall’s bedroom window but he’s sure of the boy inside.


Harry just barely slows his bike down to a full stop before jumping off the seat, allowing the bike to fall to ground in the process. The handlebars dig into the grass and dirt and the back wheel continues to spin but the brunette pays it no more attention. Instead his attention is fixated high above him, his gaze glued to a large second story window of the house in front of him.

All the lights are off in the house, the windows dark, except for that one where there’s a dim light shining softly through sheer curtains. Niall’s reading light – which means Niall is likely still awake.

He walks closer to the house, bends down to pick up a small pebble from Niall’s mum’s garden, and then stands up straight and pulls his arm back. 

Harry isn’t exactly sure what he’s doing outside Niall’s house, standing in the grass in the backyard throwing pebbles at Niall’s bedroom window. (Niall hasn’t even spoken to him in six days; not since the bottled-blond kissed him in Harry’s basement and then promptly ran away, leaving behind an incredibly confused and flustered Harry.) But he’s totally, completely sure about the boy inside and that’s all that matters, really.

Harry sees Niall before Niall sees him, watches as the Irish boy pulls back one curtain and then pushes the screen up before poking his head out the window. He sees the way Niall’s eyebrows come together in concentration and how his eyes squint slightly to adjust to the darkness.


“Hi,” Harry breathes. This is the first time he’s heard Niall speak in almost a week; he hadn’t realized, before, how much he loves Niall’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Tossing pebbles at your window,” the brunette replies simply. “It’s a thing, isn’t it?”

Niall snorts. “In cheesy romance movies, maybe.” He seems to realize the implication in his words because the small smirk that had formed on his lips disappears and his eyes narrow, if only a bit. “What do you want, Harry?”

“Come outside.”

Niall blinks and then sighs, shaking his head. “No.”

Harry frowns. “Niall, come – please come outside,” he begs. 

“No, Harry.”


“Harry, it’s late. Just go home.”

Harry shakes his head. He marches forward, then, stepping carefully on the strategically placed stepping stones Maura had placed in the garden below and begins to try to climb the trellis against the wall of the house to the right of Niall’s window. All he has to do is get high enough to pull himself onto the first story roof and then he’ll literally be standing in front of Niall.

A sound of protest escapes Niall’s throat. “Harry – Haz, what the hell – what are you doing?!” he whisper-yells, so as not to wake up his parents. 

“If you won’t come out then I’m coming in,” Harry says, pulling himself up onto the trellis. 

“Harry, you’ll fall.”

“’s a price I’m willing to pay,” Harry grunts, struggling to find a sturdy enough position for his Converse-covered foot so he can pull himself up even higher. “Besides, I used to do this all the time, remember?” He remembers it like it was yesterday, when they were seven and eight years old and Harry used to climb the trellis to sneak into Niall’s room in the middle of the night or to sit on the roof outside Niall’s window. Harry’s 16 now and hasn’t had to climb the trellis in almost two years. 

“Yeah well you used to be coordinated and now you’re not,” Niall points out. “Seriously, Harry, stop – stop, get down! I’ll come outside.”

Harry looks up at him, smiling almost triumphantly as Niall rolls his eyes and pushes away from the window. The screen closes and the curtain gets sucked against the window by the wind whilst Harry jumps down from the trellis and stumbles out of the garden, back onto green, flat ground. He waits for the sound of the back door to open and when it does – and Niall walks through it, clad in his favourite pair of comfies and the Eagles shirt Harry bought him from a vintage store down the road just because – he stuffs his hands into his pockets; he’s suddenly incredibly nervous. 

Niall walks towards him, his hands in his own pockets as well. He stares at the ground the whole way – that is, until he’s standing directly in front of Harry because then he’s looking up at the slightly taller boy, curious and confused. 

“Hi,” Harry breathes again.

“Do you even know what time it is?”

The brunette shrugs carelessly. “Not like it’s a school night.”

“My parents are asleep-”

“Your parents are always asleep before you.”

Niall pauses, glancing down at the ground where the toes of his Supras are beginning to get wet from the grass. Harry’s aren’t that much better. He looks up again, right into green eyes because Harry’s just staring at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all week, Niall,” Harry murmurs, watching the way Niall flinches, slightly. “I just – I had to see you and I decided coming here was the only way you wouldn’t be able to run away.” The truth is, Harry hasn’t been able to sleep properly all week as he’s been so worried about why Niall was avoiding him; he knows why Niall was avoiding him but he doesn’t know why the blond boy feels the need to avoid him in the first place. Tonight was no different – apart from the fact that it’s a Saturday night instead of a school night and maybe he’s a bit tipsy because he had Louis and Zayn over earlier whilst Niall had stayed home. Tonight, however, Harry couldn’t ignore the tight feeling in his chest or the voice in the back of his mind telling him to just go see Niall.

Niall remains silent, his gaze falling back towards the ground. 

“Why’ve you been avoiding me, Niall?”

“You know why.”

Harry shakes his head. “That’s not a real reason.”

“Well it’s the only reason I have, so…” Niall replies sharply, letting his voice trail off. 

“That’s shit, Niall,” Harry snaps, which causes the blonde’s head to snap up and his gaze to lock with Harry’s, because Harry rarely ever swears and he never snaps at Niall. “We’ve kissed before, remember?”

“W-we were drunk.”

“And you never ran away.”

“Because we were drunk-”

“That’s bullshit – stop lying!” Harry shouts, despite Niall’s protests for him to be quiet. Because at this point he really doesn’t care if Niall’s whole neighbourhood hears him. “You just – you just ran away. You kissed me and then you just ran away and you wouldn’t even talk me all week let alone acknowledge me – and we’re best friends, Niall. You’re supposed to be able to talk to me and you won’t even…you just ran away.” His voice is quiet now, a murmur. 

Niall blinks, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he turns away from Harry, shaking his head. Harry’s stomach turns, afraid that Niall’s going to go back inside and that their friendship will be over after this – and suddenly he wants to take it all back, pretend like these last few minutes never happened. Niall sits down on the bench-swing a few feet away from where they’d been standing, bending forward to rest his elbows on his knees and drop his head into his hands. He cards his fingers through his short blond hair, revealing his brown roots before lifting his gaze to meet Harry’s. “You didn’t kiss back.”

It’s Harry’s turn to blink, taken aback as he stares at Niall, confused. “W-what?”

“I kissed you and you didn’t even kiss me back, Harry,” Niall says, his voice breaking, eyes shining with salty, unshed tears. “I – I’ve been feeling it, like, for a long time; wanting to kiss you and that without, you know, being drunk out of our minds and I just – we were just sitting there, yeah, in your basement and I just couldn’t stop myself. I thought…I dunno, I thought if I did it sober – maybe if I kissed you properly – it would be different and you would understand. And I waited for you to do something, for you to kiss me, and you didn’t. You just…sat there – so what was I supposed to do after that? I didn’t – I couldn’t just pretend it didn’t hurt and, yeah, maybe running away was a cowardly thing to do but what else was I supposed to do, Harry?”

Harry stares at him, wide green eyes swimming in tears as he gaps for something to say. He knows what he wants to say, what he needs to say – he’d gone over the words plenty of times in the five minutes it took him to bike here – but it’s like the words are caught somewhere in his throat. It’s like his brain has turned to mush and the communication between it and his tongue has backfired because he hasn’t a clue what to say. He also wants to step forward and gather Niall into his arms and whisper sweet, beautiful nothing’s into Niall’s ears and apologize immensely for this giant misunderstanding but his legs are stiff and his feet may as well be glued to the floor. 

Niall shakes his head, a wretched sob escaping his throat as he pushes himself to his feet. “Go home, Harry,” he mutters, already halfway towards the back door so he can run away back inside. 

“No - Niall,” Harry protests, reaching out for him. All at once he finds himself chasing the blond boy down and pleading with him not to go back inside, having finally found his voice and his ability to move – and then he’s curling his fingers around Niall’s wrist and pulling him back around and pressing their lips together. Niall gasps into his mouth and Harry swallows it greedily, licking into his mouth as he curls both arms around Niall’s waist to pull him closer. 

Niall pulls away far too quickly, cursing under his breath as he lowers his face, his forehead falling against Harry’s chin. “Fuck, Haz, you - you’re drunk,” Niall mutters, having tasted the beer on Harry’s tongue. 

“Not anymore,” Harry argues, breathing hard into Niall’s hair. He brings his hands up to cup Niall’s face, making it so the Irish boy is looking up at him. “Not that it matters because I want it – you, I want you – all the time anyway.”

Niall blinks, his mouth falling open in surprise. “W-what?”

“I want you all the time, Niall. Every day. Ever since I can remember. And, yeah, those few drunk snogs we had were great and I enjoyed them but all it did was make me want you more and then you kissed me last weekend and I was just – like, I was in shock. I didn’t know what was happening and by the time I realized that it was you who kissed me and not the other way around you were already running away.”

Niall stares at him. “Oh.”

Harry smirks, cheekily. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

“I’m just an idiot, then.”

“Yeah, you are.”

A sly grin works its way onto Niall’s lips. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Harry shrugs playfully. “You could start by inviting me inside. And then kissing me some more, maybe.”

“You want to go inside? After all your hard work to get me to come outside?” the blond boy teases.

“I’ll climb that trellis if you don’t anyway so you might as well just save us both the time and invite me in.”

“We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“I beg to differ. I did just through pebbles at your window.”

right side of the wrong bed

Pairing: Niall/Harry with a side of fake Niall/Zayn

Summary“I’m Niall,” Niall hurries to add, the hand that Zayn’s gripping flying upwards in exclamation. “Zayn’s uh- my boyfriend. Yeah, new thing you know? He’s great though. I like him. I like your shirt too, it’s cool,” Niall adds suddenly. “The Eagles are cool.”

-or Niall might agree to fake date Zayn for the night, but he what he isn’t expecting is to meet Harry, who might just be the prettiest boy he’s ever seen.

on (ao3)

Keep reading