Niall cleans up while Harry gets settled in the spare room, and then picks up his guitar. When he’s home alone all he does is play, listening to his iPod and trying to learn songs by ear, or rearranging One Direction songs. He’s doing that now, fiddling with “One Thing” when Harry wanders back into the living room and plops down on the sofa, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table.
Harry hums along, keeping up with the changes in chord progression fairly well. Niall starts switching things up even more to see if he gets thrown, but he only misses a beat before he’s back on it. When Niall gets to the chorus he starts to sing, and Harry joins in, his voice rasping more than usual as he fills in the harmony.
Niall segues right into one of the new songs they’ve been working on, and Harry starts making up lyrics to fill in the holes. They get progressively dirtier and soon Niall’s fingers are slipping on the frets because he’s shaking with laughter.
“I give up,” he says, and leans the guitar against the end table.
“Good, there’re ‘Great British Bake-Off’ reruns on anway.”
Niall flicks the television on and they watch three episodes in a row before Harry is yawning hugely on the sofa, arms stretched up.
“Off with you then,” Niall says, and Harry gets to his feet. He ruffles Niall’s hair on the way past, and Niall grins at his back as he pads down the hallway.
It’s nice having Harry around.
*****
A week later Harry still hasn’t found a flat, which he grumps about as he shucks his hoodie in the living room, tossing it over the back of a chair and shaking out his hair.
Niall finds himself releasing a relieved breath, and realises that he doesn’t want Harry to find a new flat. The past week had been so nice. On work days Harry drove them in to the studio together, and they’d stop for tea and pastries on the way, then again on the way home to grab things for dinner or a late night snack. On off days they’d watch TV or make up songs while Niall played guitar, or play video games for hours on end, their elbows knocking together on the sofa.
Harry was easy to live with, and Niall kind of wanted him to stay.
“Just stay,” he says, because he always says what he’s thinking.
Niall cleans up while Harry gets settled in the spare room, and then picks up his guitar. When he’s home alone all he does is play, listening to his iPod and trying to learn songs by ear, or rearranging One Direction songs. He’s doing that now, fiddling with “One Thing” when Harry wanders back into the living room and plops down on the sofa, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table.
Harry hums along, keeping up with the changes in chord progression fairly well. Niall starts switching things up even more to see if he gets thrown, but he only misses a beat before he’s back on it. When Niall gets to the chorus he starts to sing, and Harry joins in, his voice rasping more than usual as he fills in the harmony.
Niall segues right into one of the new songs they’ve been working on, and Harry starts making up lyrics to fill in the holes. They get progressively dirtier and soon Niall’s fingers are slipping on the frets because he’s shaking with laughter.
“I give up,” he says, and leans the guitar against the end table.
“Good, there’re ‘Great British Bake-Off’ reruns on anway.”
Niall flicks the television on and they watch three episodes in a row before Harry is yawning hugely on the sofa, arms stretched up.
“Off with you then,” Niall says, and Harry gets to his feet. He ruffles Niall’s hair on the way past, and Niall grins at his back as he pads down the hallway.
It’s nice having Harry around.
*****
A week later Harry still hasn’t found a flat, which he grumps about as he shucks his hoodie in the living room, tossing it over the back of a chair and shaking out his hair.
Niall finds himself releasing a relieved breath, and realises that he doesn’t want Harry to find a new flat. The past week had been so nice. On work days Harry drove them in to the studio together, and they’d stop for tea and pastries on the way, then again on the way home to grab things for dinner or a late night snack. On off days they’d watch TV or make up songs while Niall played guitar, or play video games for hours on end, their elbows knocking together on the sofa.
Harry was easy to live with, and Niall kind of wanted him to stay.
“Just stay,” he says, because he always says what he’s thinking.
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