FIC: Songs of desperation, I played them for you... (Harry/Nick G)
Title: Songs of Desperation, I played them for you
Pairing: Harry/Nick
Rating: R?
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: It all started with a star. Well, actually, it started a long time before that, if he’s being honest.
Disclaimer: This is completely a product of my over-active imagination. If you or someone you know is mentioned, please do not read any further :)
A/N: So, I sort of went crazy on twitter the other night about Nick & Harry and tattoo feels and Louisa made me turn it into fic. This is what happened. This one goes out to Brie, Morgan, Jennifer, Maura, and anyone else who was subject to the torture I was doling out Saturday night :)Thanks as always to ladauphineff for her ability to make me see a bigger picture <3
Also, I obviously have taken quite a few liberties here, so cut me some slack, okay? Also at AO3
It all started with a star. Well, actually, it started a long time before that, if he’s being honest.
Maybe it started the first time Harry met Nick, like in the movies. Two people meet and they become friends. They share ‘in-jokes’ and stories that no one else really cares about, but are so significant in the grand scheme of their relationship (like that time they took Nick’s mum to Fashion Week and she kept commenting on the ‘balls’ on the dessert table and Harry couldn’t stop sniggering and Nick thwacked him on the back of the head. They were still new then and Nick was so flustered. Harry’s not sure he’s ever laughed quite so hard.). Months of shopping trips, nights on the town, and hours in front of the telly, becoming as close as two people who are only friends can. They tumble into this quick, unexplainable ease with each other. Their friendship blossoms at a lightning speed, which they both chalk up to the ease of just being Northerners. They understand where the other has come from, and the career drive they each have. Until one day, they realize that they are so much more than ‘just friends’. Whatever this bond is between them, it just make sense.
Nothing really happens between them except a little bit of drunk snogging and the occasional cuddle (because Nick is being ‘proper’ and Harry is not even eighteen yet, for fuck’s sake), but Harry can’t stop thinking about it. He doesn’t get to see Nick on his birthday in February, doesn’t really get to see him at all before the band is off to Paris for a brief PR tour. But when he gets back right after Valentine’s Day, the first thing he does is track Nick down at the pub. They share a few drinks, and then share a cab back to Nick’s. That’s where their story really begins ...
They’ve been together ever since.
They keep it a secret for a while, Harry doesn’t even tell the boys at first, though they know the truth about his sexuality. It’s all so new, and it’s the first time Harry’s ever been in an actual relationship with another man. It feels too precious to share; it’s not a hurtful secret, but it’s his - it’s theirs - and for a while Harry wants to keep it to himself.
He tells Zayn first.
Well, he doesn't so much as tell him as Zayn figures it out. He takes Harry to a tattoo place on Sunset Boulevard and Harry picks the biggest, boldest star out of the book and gets it permanently etched to his inner arm. He understands the symbolism of it, and if it also happens to match the tiny little star on Nick's ankle, then nobody else needs to know it. Zayn, for his part, just smiles and doesn't say a word until they're headed back to the hotel later.
"So, you and Nick, huh?" It's more of a statement than a question, and Harry just nods his confirmation. But Zayn can see the light in Harry’s eyes, which always shine a little brighter when Nick is mentioned, suddenly burn with more intensity than normal for just a moment. Zayn realizes with that twinkle that it’s so much more than mates fucking around.
He realizes Harry’s in love.
Zayn laughs, says, "Yeah. I can see that. Happy for you, mate." And that's the end of the discussion.
He goes on to tell the other lads, and it's not so hard as he thought. They all like and respect Nick (except maybe Louis, and that's only because he's afraid that Harry will have his heart broken), and they're happy that Harry has someone in his life.
The band goes to America for a headlining tour over the summer. Harry misses Nick, even though they talk and Skype and text as much as they can. He's been toying with the idea of getting another tattoo, but it's Nick who actually gives him the idea for his new ink.
It's no secret that he's a fan of The Temper Trap. Their fans have made videos and websites based on the lyrics to “Sweet Disposition”. What most of them don't know is that Nick was the one who introduced Harry to the band's music.
He'd spent hours at Nick's flat, Louis off with Eleanor and the other boys busy with their own lives, dancing around and singing the same song over and over. He'd driven Nick crazy with it. So when he hears Nick playing it in the background of one of their late night phone conversations (only because I miss you, Nick says), Harry figures, why not.
By the time he gets back to London, he's added an 'A' for his mum Anne, and ‘hi’ (written by Louis, and made permanent because, well, it was the first thing Louis ever said to him in the Xfactor bathroom all that time ago, and he was the first boy Harry had ever been attracted to, besides being his best friend) to his collection of ink. Nick just shakes his head and doesn't say a word. The only reaction Harry gets is when they are tangled together later that night, Nick traces his fingers repeatedly over the lyrics under the star, places a reverent kiss to the sensitive skin there and falls asleep with a smile on his lips. Harry traces his fingertips over Nick’s lips as he sleeps, watching him breathe slowly, his eyelids barely fluttering in the way they do during his REM sleep and whispers “It’s all for you, y’know.”
From there it spirals.
Within a couple of weeks, Harry has added the 'iced gem' (for his sister), and five other tattoos, all on his left side. The first is the words I can't change on his wrist, which no one was ever meant to see but Nick. He also gets a hanger, which Nick thinks is ridiculous, but it’s meant as a symbol of what Nick means to him; stability, a place where he can ‘hang his hat’ so to speak. Home.
These are followed (in one day, no less) by a small padlock (done by Ed), ‘pingu’ (for Ed) visible only when he lifts his arm, and the text “17 BLACK” across the front of his left shoulder. (When this one finally heals, Nick will spend endless amounts of time kissing and licking each letter, remembering the night they went to that little restaurant months before they were officially a couple. The way Harry had confessed his feelings for Nick, so brave and sure, and Nick had promised him that if he still felt the same after his birthday, that Nick would be waiting for him.)
Harry goes to a different artist a few days later for the birdcage under his left arm across the top of his ribs. He had been coerced into watching “La Cage aux Folles” (because Nick likes it better than the Americanized, Robin Williams version) the night before, and Harry can relate to it. After all, he’s been pretending to be someone he’s not for ages, all in the effort of protecting the well-being of his closest friends. No one ever told him he had to, he’s just never really seen another way. And so far, Nick has been okay with their ‘public’ image.
People (paps and fans, mostly) are starting to take notice of how much time they spend together. By the time One Direction leaves for the States for their VMA appearance in late summer, Harry and Nick have been spotted in public together every day for two weeks. Nick is the one who suggests Harry stay in LA for a few days, visit some friends, have a little holiday. Harry knows that what he really means (but won’t ever say) is, I can’t pretend for the world that I don’t love you if you rush home to be with me.
So, he stays with his friend Cal, surfs a bit, and gets more ink. It really can’t be helped at this point; it’s like an addiction that he can no longer control. In a way, it helps distract him from not being with Nick - not waking up next to him, not listening to him sing ridiculous Jay-Z songs at the top of his lungs while he showers. Not being in the studio with him (even when he’s not suppose to be), or out to brunch or a picnic with Nick’s crazy friends who have accepted Harry without hesitation into their tight-knit group. He misses all those little moments so much, but all he has to do is look at the permanent marks on his body and, in a way, Nick’s there.
He goes to one of Zayn’s favorite artists, gets his sister’s name in Hebrew tattooed on his left shoulder, just because he thinks it looks cool and she hadn’t been all that excited about his other tribute to her. He lets the guy add a shamrock (the shop’s logo) to his wrist, and he takes a few pictures with some Glee cast members who are also there getting work done. He knows the moment the pictures hit the internet because he gets a call from Nick, even though it’s still really early in London and Nick had a gig the night before.
“Really?” Nick says, voice rough with sleep and last night’s booze. “Is this what’s going to happen every time I let you out of my sight?” But he’s teasing, not angry, and Harry notes the tone of affection in his speech, even across five time zones.
“In my defense, I get ink just as often in your presence as I do away from it, so...”
Chuckling, Nick replies, “I miss you, pop star.”
“Miss you too,” Harry answers. Harry’s surprised how much he misses Nick, how such a simple declaration has made his heart skip a beat. “But I’ll be home in plenty of time for your last show on Wednesday.”
In fact, he’s home a day early. Nick’s not expecting him, so he’s stuck in meetings about The Breakfast Show for most of the afternoon. Harry, unsurprisingly, heads down to Kevin’s studio. They had already planned to fill in his star tattoo, but he decides to add something under his left arm, alongside the birdcage. He settles on the pair of masks (one happy, one sad), and adds ‘smcl’ for ‘smile more, cry less’, with a small, indistinguishable ‘N’ underneath.
He’s glad, later that day when Nick inspects the addition, that he doesn’t need to explain. Nick knows, better than almost anyone, that Harry is essentially two very different people on any given day. Harry Styles, international pop star and ladies man to the rest of the world, and just Harry to everyone who matters to him, desperately in love with a boy and trying to find his place in this crazy world.
“SMCL,” Nick murmurs, fingers hovering over the letters. “Is that working for you so far?”
Harry smiles, content. “Since I found you, yeah.”
That night, Nick takes him to bed and shows him with his mouth and his hands (and every part of himself) exactly where Harry belongs, and who he belongs to.
It’s not until the night before 1D’s radio takeover that Nick notices the small key that Harry had added to his wrist earlier in the week. He’s never asked Harry outright what they all mean, but he could probably figure it out on his own if he really put some thought into it. And it’s not like Harry would ever not tell him if he were to ask.
Nick is thumbing over the tiny key and padlock on Harry’s wrist, not meeting his eyes, which is a sure sign that he has something he wants to say.
“I get it, you know … the rush. And I know that they each mean something to you.” Nick pauses then, brushing his thumb across the words on Harry’s bare wrist, up over his forearm. He touches each image caringly before letting his hand come to rest along Harry’s ribcage, thumb just teasing the ink hidden there. “They just sometimes seem so … random. Like, you’ll wake up tomorrow and decide to go get the bloody Starbucks logo tattooed across your chest, or something.” He’s laughing a little, but he’s not making fun. He just wants to understand why Harry needs this.
Harry sits up in the bed, hands Nick his readers and says, holding his wrist out, “Look at it again. Look closely this time.” He watches realization dawn on Nick’s face as he recognizes the letters of his own name etched into the shape of a tiny key on Harry’s arm. With his free hand, Harry cups Nick’s face, drawing the other man’s eyes to his own.
“Every piece represents someone I love. They tell the story of my life, Nick. They tell the story of us. S’why I can’t stop -- our story’s not over yet.”
Nick pulls Harry down on top of him, crushing their lips together. He’s holding Harry’s face in his hands, murmuring against his mouth as he gently cards his fingers through Harry’s hair, lets his eyes sweep over Harry’s face. “Won’t ever be, not if I’ve got a say in it.”
Fin
Pairing: Harry/Nick
Rating: R?
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: It all started with a star. Well, actually, it started a long time before that, if he’s being honest.
Disclaimer: This is completely a product of my over-active imagination. If you or someone you know is mentioned, please do not read any further :)
A/N: So, I sort of went crazy on twitter the other night about Nick & Harry and tattoo feels and Louisa made me turn it into fic. This is what happened. This one goes out to Brie, Morgan, Jennifer, Maura, and anyone else who was subject to the torture I was doling out Saturday night :)Thanks as always to ladauphineff for her ability to make me see a bigger picture <3
Also, I obviously have taken quite a few liberties here, so cut me some slack, okay? Also at AO3
It all started with a star. Well, actually, it started a long time before that, if he’s being honest.
Maybe it started the first time Harry met Nick, like in the movies. Two people meet and they become friends. They share ‘in-jokes’ and stories that no one else really cares about, but are so significant in the grand scheme of their relationship (like that time they took Nick’s mum to Fashion Week and she kept commenting on the ‘balls’ on the dessert table and Harry couldn’t stop sniggering and Nick thwacked him on the back of the head. They were still new then and Nick was so flustered. Harry’s not sure he’s ever laughed quite so hard.). Months of shopping trips, nights on the town, and hours in front of the telly, becoming as close as two people who are only friends can. They tumble into this quick, unexplainable ease with each other. Their friendship blossoms at a lightning speed, which they both chalk up to the ease of just being Northerners. They understand where the other has come from, and the career drive they each have. Until one day, they realize that they are so much more than ‘just friends’. Whatever this bond is between them, it just make sense.
Nothing really happens between them except a little bit of drunk snogging and the occasional cuddle (because Nick is being ‘proper’ and Harry is not even eighteen yet, for fuck’s sake), but Harry can’t stop thinking about it. He doesn’t get to see Nick on his birthday in February, doesn’t really get to see him at all before the band is off to Paris for a brief PR tour. But when he gets back right after Valentine’s Day, the first thing he does is track Nick down at the pub. They share a few drinks, and then share a cab back to Nick’s. That’s where their story really begins ...
They’ve been together ever since.
They keep it a secret for a while, Harry doesn’t even tell the boys at first, though they know the truth about his sexuality. It’s all so new, and it’s the first time Harry’s ever been in an actual relationship with another man. It feels too precious to share; it’s not a hurtful secret, but it’s his - it’s theirs - and for a while Harry wants to keep it to himself.
He tells Zayn first.
Well, he doesn't so much as tell him as Zayn figures it out. He takes Harry to a tattoo place on Sunset Boulevard and Harry picks the biggest, boldest star out of the book and gets it permanently etched to his inner arm. He understands the symbolism of it, and if it also happens to match the tiny little star on Nick's ankle, then nobody else needs to know it. Zayn, for his part, just smiles and doesn't say a word until they're headed back to the hotel later.
"So, you and Nick, huh?" It's more of a statement than a question, and Harry just nods his confirmation. But Zayn can see the light in Harry’s eyes, which always shine a little brighter when Nick is mentioned, suddenly burn with more intensity than normal for just a moment. Zayn realizes with that twinkle that it’s so much more than mates fucking around.
He realizes Harry’s in love.
Zayn laughs, says, "Yeah. I can see that. Happy for you, mate." And that's the end of the discussion.
He goes on to tell the other lads, and it's not so hard as he thought. They all like and respect Nick (except maybe Louis, and that's only because he's afraid that Harry will have his heart broken), and they're happy that Harry has someone in his life.
The band goes to America for a headlining tour over the summer. Harry misses Nick, even though they talk and Skype and text as much as they can. He's been toying with the idea of getting another tattoo, but it's Nick who actually gives him the idea for his new ink.
It's no secret that he's a fan of The Temper Trap. Their fans have made videos and websites based on the lyrics to “Sweet Disposition”. What most of them don't know is that Nick was the one who introduced Harry to the band's music.
He'd spent hours at Nick's flat, Louis off with Eleanor and the other boys busy with their own lives, dancing around and singing the same song over and over. He'd driven Nick crazy with it. So when he hears Nick playing it in the background of one of their late night phone conversations (only because I miss you, Nick says), Harry figures, why not.
By the time he gets back to London, he's added an 'A' for his mum Anne, and ‘hi’ (written by Louis, and made permanent because, well, it was the first thing Louis ever said to him in the Xfactor bathroom all that time ago, and he was the first boy Harry had ever been attracted to, besides being his best friend) to his collection of ink. Nick just shakes his head and doesn't say a word. The only reaction Harry gets is when they are tangled together later that night, Nick traces his fingers repeatedly over the lyrics under the star, places a reverent kiss to the sensitive skin there and falls asleep with a smile on his lips. Harry traces his fingertips over Nick’s lips as he sleeps, watching him breathe slowly, his eyelids barely fluttering in the way they do during his REM sleep and whispers “It’s all for you, y’know.”
From there it spirals.
Within a couple of weeks, Harry has added the 'iced gem' (for his sister), and five other tattoos, all on his left side. The first is the words I can't change on his wrist, which no one was ever meant to see but Nick. He also gets a hanger, which Nick thinks is ridiculous, but it’s meant as a symbol of what Nick means to him; stability, a place where he can ‘hang his hat’ so to speak. Home.
These are followed (in one day, no less) by a small padlock (done by Ed), ‘pingu’ (for Ed) visible only when he lifts his arm, and the text “17 BLACK” across the front of his left shoulder. (When this one finally heals, Nick will spend endless amounts of time kissing and licking each letter, remembering the night they went to that little restaurant months before they were officially a couple. The way Harry had confessed his feelings for Nick, so brave and sure, and Nick had promised him that if he still felt the same after his birthday, that Nick would be waiting for him.)
Harry goes to a different artist a few days later for the birdcage under his left arm across the top of his ribs. He had been coerced into watching “La Cage aux Folles” (because Nick likes it better than the Americanized, Robin Williams version) the night before, and Harry can relate to it. After all, he’s been pretending to be someone he’s not for ages, all in the effort of protecting the well-being of his closest friends. No one ever told him he had to, he’s just never really seen another way. And so far, Nick has been okay with their ‘public’ image.
People (paps and fans, mostly) are starting to take notice of how much time they spend together. By the time One Direction leaves for the States for their VMA appearance in late summer, Harry and Nick have been spotted in public together every day for two weeks. Nick is the one who suggests Harry stay in LA for a few days, visit some friends, have a little holiday. Harry knows that what he really means (but won’t ever say) is, I can’t pretend for the world that I don’t love you if you rush home to be with me.
So, he stays with his friend Cal, surfs a bit, and gets more ink. It really can’t be helped at this point; it’s like an addiction that he can no longer control. In a way, it helps distract him from not being with Nick - not waking up next to him, not listening to him sing ridiculous Jay-Z songs at the top of his lungs while he showers. Not being in the studio with him (even when he’s not suppose to be), or out to brunch or a picnic with Nick’s crazy friends who have accepted Harry without hesitation into their tight-knit group. He misses all those little moments so much, but all he has to do is look at the permanent marks on his body and, in a way, Nick’s there.
He goes to one of Zayn’s favorite artists, gets his sister’s name in Hebrew tattooed on his left shoulder, just because he thinks it looks cool and she hadn’t been all that excited about his other tribute to her. He lets the guy add a shamrock (the shop’s logo) to his wrist, and he takes a few pictures with some Glee cast members who are also there getting work done. He knows the moment the pictures hit the internet because he gets a call from Nick, even though it’s still really early in London and Nick had a gig the night before.
“Really?” Nick says, voice rough with sleep and last night’s booze. “Is this what’s going to happen every time I let you out of my sight?” But he’s teasing, not angry, and Harry notes the tone of affection in his speech, even across five time zones.
“In my defense, I get ink just as often in your presence as I do away from it, so...”
Chuckling, Nick replies, “I miss you, pop star.”
“Miss you too,” Harry answers. Harry’s surprised how much he misses Nick, how such a simple declaration has made his heart skip a beat. “But I’ll be home in plenty of time for your last show on Wednesday.”
In fact, he’s home a day early. Nick’s not expecting him, so he’s stuck in meetings about The Breakfast Show for most of the afternoon. Harry, unsurprisingly, heads down to Kevin’s studio. They had already planned to fill in his star tattoo, but he decides to add something under his left arm, alongside the birdcage. He settles on the pair of masks (one happy, one sad), and adds ‘smcl’ for ‘smile more, cry less’, with a small, indistinguishable ‘N’ underneath.
He’s glad, later that day when Nick inspects the addition, that he doesn’t need to explain. Nick knows, better than almost anyone, that Harry is essentially two very different people on any given day. Harry Styles, international pop star and ladies man to the rest of the world, and just Harry to everyone who matters to him, desperately in love with a boy and trying to find his place in this crazy world.
“SMCL,” Nick murmurs, fingers hovering over the letters. “Is that working for you so far?”
Harry smiles, content. “Since I found you, yeah.”
That night, Nick takes him to bed and shows him with his mouth and his hands (and every part of himself) exactly where Harry belongs, and who he belongs to.
It’s not until the night before 1D’s radio takeover that Nick notices the small key that Harry had added to his wrist earlier in the week. He’s never asked Harry outright what they all mean, but he could probably figure it out on his own if he really put some thought into it. And it’s not like Harry would ever not tell him if he were to ask.
Nick is thumbing over the tiny key and padlock on Harry’s wrist, not meeting his eyes, which is a sure sign that he has something he wants to say.
“I get it, you know … the rush. And I know that they each mean something to you.” Nick pauses then, brushing his thumb across the words on Harry’s bare wrist, up over his forearm. He touches each image caringly before letting his hand come to rest along Harry’s ribcage, thumb just teasing the ink hidden there. “They just sometimes seem so … random. Like, you’ll wake up tomorrow and decide to go get the bloody Starbucks logo tattooed across your chest, or something.” He’s laughing a little, but he’s not making fun. He just wants to understand why Harry needs this.
Harry sits up in the bed, hands Nick his readers and says, holding his wrist out, “Look at it again. Look closely this time.” He watches realization dawn on Nick’s face as he recognizes the letters of his own name etched into the shape of a tiny key on Harry’s arm. With his free hand, Harry cups Nick’s face, drawing the other man’s eyes to his own.
“Every piece represents someone I love. They tell the story of my life, Nick. They tell the story of us. S’why I can’t stop -- our story’s not over yet.”
Nick pulls Harry down on top of him, crushing their lips together. He’s holding Harry’s face in his hands, murmuring against his mouth as he gently cards his fingers through Harry’s hair, lets his eyes sweep over Harry’s face. “Won’t ever be, not if I’ve got a say in it.”
Fin