#I have a unbridled hatred of SUVs

[masochistic-tifosi]

Sometimes family is complicated.

One day your grandpa makes you a table, then two months later he tells you he got a fucking SUV.

[narrysgolden]

Private Nights - Part 2

“post hiatus narry, who haven’t seen each other since an awkward emotional run in at the eagles show, have to share a private flight”

PART 1

Niall hardly slept that night, groaning loudly when his alarm went off at 6am. Peeking one eye open, trying not to go blind from the flash of the screen, he turned his alarm off. But before he could roll back in bed he noticed a string of texts from Tara.

Niall, darling, I’m so so so sorry I’m not going to be able to come to LA.

I’ve woken up with a horrendous stomach ache and fever.

Haven’t left the bathroom all night.

Hope you can forgive me! I know you’ll smash it either way.

Don’t get too lonely without me. Xx.

Ugh. He groans and rolls back over, throwing the covers up over his head, conscious not to fall back asleep. I guess no Tara means it’s just me and the cabin crew. Great one. Until about 30 seconds later he remembers, Harry. He fills up with an odd mix of excitement and dread, not to get his hopes up on a long lost friendship.

He scrubs all thoughts from his mind and slowly crawls out of bed, pulling open the curtains, even if the sun has yet to come up. A shower, change of clothes and a packed bag later, he’s out the door and into the car on the way to the airport.

Sitting in the back seat, still in a sleepy daze, Niall unlocks his phone and pulls up Harry’s contact. He begins typing out a message, but quickly deletes it all, switches off his phone and puts it back in his lap. He trusts harry will be there on time. Harry’s never late. They can figure it out when they get to the airport.

And sure enough, as Niall’s car pulls up to the tarmac, Harry’s there with his leather Gucci luggage scrolling through his phone aimlessly. Harry’s wearing flared blue jeans, a long-lined tan Gucci coat, and a denim baker boy hat. He looks like a right twat, flaunting the luxury brands adorning his body, but a sexy one at that.

Niall almost can’t believe he just thought that. His blood starts to boil. With his hatred for that hat, or his unbridled attraction, he’s not sure.

The next 30 seconds seems like 30 minutes. The SUV comes to a halt, just feet from the stairs to the jet, swinging past Harry and blowing the soft curls out from his face. Niall’s palms begin to sweat, truly unaware of why his body is betraying him. Stepping out of the car, he’s greeted with Harry’s soft dimpled smile. Heat rises to Niall’s cheeks and he could almost say he was blushing until he mentally slapped himself and cleared his throat. “Hey, Harry. Good to see ya buddy.”

Harry put his bag down carefully, reaching his arms out for an embrace. “You too Niall”, he says with a cheeky grin. Niall goes in for the hug too, awkward limbs tangling, and he pulls away at just the wrong moment to where Harry’s wholesomely British cheek kiss lands right on the corner of Niall’s mouth. The air is instantly so thick you could cut the tension with a knife. The two boys stand there in silence, Niall uncomfortable, Harry embarrassed. It was probably only a few seconds, but Niall could swear it was an eternity.

“Let me grab my bag”, he blurts out, running around to the other side of the car. God. I didn’t think seeing him would be this bad. I need a drink.

They all board the plane, not too many words exchanged but soft smiles shot back and forth. It had been a few minutes, but Niall was just now noticing that Harry was alone. That’s very unusual, not even a guard. “Hey where’s Jeff? You never go anywhere alone.” Niall questioned.

“’Second Honeymoon’ in Jamaica remember? It’s why we are on this plane together.” Harry chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“Right, right, well glad I could be of help.” And now is when it sinks in that him and Harry truly are alone, no Jeff, no Tara, neither brought security for the plane. Just them and the cabin crew.

Just as Niall was getting lost in his brain again, the flight attendant came around with a tray and two thin fluted glasses full of bubbles. Before she could even speak, Niall was letting out a “Please” and taking a glass of champagne off the tray. She motioned to Harry next who nodded a quiet “Thank you” and took a glass as well.

Good, this is good. We got past the awkward and now I have alcohol to get me through the next…..11 hours….fuck. In the midst of trying to rationalize with himself that everything would be just fine, Niall didn’t realize he was chugging his champagne until he was practically choking on the carbonation.

Harry looked up abruptly, reacting to the intense coughing and sputtering from the seat facing him. “You okay, Ni?” He reached out instinctively, placing his hand on Niall’s knee, truly hoping he wasn’t dying in front of him.

The reaction of Harry’s touch was burning Niall. Blood rushing straight to his knee and making him feel lightheaded in combination with the alcohol. Harry didn’t move, Niall didn’t want him to, and they were both content like that in the moment. “Yeah, just drank too fast is all.”

The boys spent the next few hours talking and laughing, getting comfortable with each other again, and going through four more glasses of champagne, each. They were pissed drunk at this point, all inhibitions gone and not a care in the world.

“Haaarrryyy, Harry, do you remember—remember that time when you nearly DIED jumping onto Paul?” Niall was laughing so hard at this point he could barely get his words out properly, slurring through his thick Irish accent. They had been going on about old memoires, the band days, for awhile now. Reminiscing on times when they were young, spontaneous, together, although they didn’t talk about that part.

Harry tried to get serious, “That’s not funny, Niall. Like you said I almost died! And it was embarrassing.” Niall burst out laughing again, doubling over in a fit. “You’re one to talk though! Remember when you punted that basketball straight into your face in front of hundreds of fans?” Now Harry’s bursting into laughter.

“Heyyyyyyy” Niall drones on, slumping back into his seat.

Harry suddenly gets up, stumbling about like a baby deer. “We need water.” He slowly made his way to the back of the jet and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge before falling dramatically onto the couch. “Niall you’re gonna have to come get it, I can’t move.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, H.” He finally gets up after a minute of contemplation and slumps down on the couch next to Harry.

“Drink up, drunkie.” Harry hands him the second bottle of water and with a “Cheers mate” they chug. At this point it had been awhile since they finished the second bottle of champagne and the sleepy hangover stage was setting in.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Niall suggests. Grabbing the remote and flipping through Netflix, stopping on Love Actually before Harry could respond.

“Hey, that’s my—“

“I know it’s your favorite, H. Plus its practically holiday season right?”

“Love Actually is a year round movie, Niall, you should know this.”

“Right, right, forgot you’re one of those people.” Niall taunts.

Harry lightly punches Niall in the arm, causing Niall’s open bottle of water to flop around in his hand, spilling directly on his crotch. Niall doesn’t even say anything, except for a loud groan. He stood up quickly, unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them all the way off, and threw them on the floor before sitting back down. Harry looks over, confused but giggling before his eyes landed right on Niall’s tight black boxers. Studying the way they cling to his thighs, how full his bum looked, definitely filled out from the last time he saw him.

Harry quickly shut his gaping mouth and turned back to the tv, hoping that Niall didn’t notice his staring. He didn’t, his eyes already fixated on the screen. The boys proceeded to sit there in silence, sipping water, eyes getting heavy.

After much time had passed, Harry woke up in a daze, unsure of where he was, looking around in a dimly lit jet cabin. The window shades were closed, Netflix had prompted the “Are you still watching?” question, and there was a heavy brunette boy holding him down on the couch. Harry was half laying on the couch, head on the back armrest, one leg up on the seat, and his right arm draped around Niall’s chest. Niall was laying his head on Harry’s chest, both his legs curled up at the end of the couch, still pantsless.

Harry shifts, trying not to wake Niall up, but also wanting him off so he can take care of the semi that was growing in his pants. He cleared his throat loudly, placing his hand on Niall’s shoulder before the dazed and confused boy peeled off his chest.

Looking around like he just woke up on the other side of the world, which wasn’t too far off, Niall groaned. “What time is it?”

“No fucking clue.”

The flight attendant popped her head in, “We’ve got about an hour left, can I get you two anything?”

Harry and Niall look at each other, disheveled messes, and answer in unison. “Advil.”