Coffee Break
Title: Coffee Break
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Niall/Liam
Word count: 8,05 words.
Rating: G
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: I own One Direction's beautiful arses and order them (not that they need much coaxing to do so) to have buttsex with each other every night.
Summary: It was a moment he looked forward to, every morning, three point five oh minutes after he got in, maybe probably the only thing that prevented him from quitting this mindless, monotonous hell of a job.
[Read More]
The alarm rang promptly, at oh seven fifteen hours, as it usually did, with the green digits glaring at him from his bedside.
“Fuck,” Niall sighed into his pillow; it was more of a reserved kind of acceptance than anger at the general world, because really; he knew he would never quit his job as an accountant, of all things, at the office- there was one reason solely for this, and one reason only.
It was fucking pathetic.
But Niall didn’t mind; at twenty-three and living in an apartment three blocks down the road from his old home, he believed in something others scoffed at: love. Okay, so maybe it was more of an unrequited crush; it wasn’t love exactly. But Niall did live for those few moments when he’d see him at work, so he undressed from his embarrassing Power Ranger pajamas without further complain, showered and grabbed a prepared tuna sandwich, and set off for work.
-
“You’re late-“
“Nialler, chill. I had to deal with my sisters-“
“Step on the pedal!” Niall shrieked, and Zayn, who carpooled every morning with his best friend from high school, complied.
-
Niall hated being late. He hated, hated, hated being late. For work, horrifically. He didn’t mind being late for other events that didn’t involve him; but work did so he did, in fact, mind being late.
Which was why the second Zayn’s wheels touched the tar of the car park where he worked, Niall jumped out of the car, leaving without an explanation because Zayn already understood, more or less.
He rushed feverishly to the elevator- luckily, it didn’t take more than a few moments to ding! open, and Niall stepped into the 9-by-8 feet space, cheesy elevator music and cheap florescent lights a comforting, familiar routine. When the number 3 rings up on the screen indicating the level it’s on, Niall leaves the little closeted space quickly, partly because he was eager and also maybe because he really couldn’t stand the way the walls seemed to close in on him.
He gets to his little cubicle- a 4-by-4 that luckily somehow seems bigger than the elevator- and after punching in his card, he grabs his coffee mug- a present from Zayn; red in colour with the words “Just close your eyes and enjoy the roller coaster that is life”. Not only it was corny as hell, it was ugly- probably the reason Zayn had given it to him as a birthday present, it was a gag gift.
Niall checks his watch and then his heart stops for a bit, he thinks. It’s nine oh four. He’s late, maybe by a matter of seconds. A stream of profanities appear in his head- fuck cunt ass bitch
And then, miraculously, there’s a hot breath tingling his neck, and words being said in his deep voice.
Liam.
“Waiting for me, were you?” Liam jokes, and Niall swivels around to meet with the taller guy.
His heart now beats frantically, erratically- this is probably the longest conversation they’ve ever shared, if you could call it that. Niall tries to smile, but he’s so fucking distracted- that hair, and those eyes…
“You going to hold up the line?” Someone behind Liam barks, and Niall is shoved back to reality.
Blushing, he tears open the coffee sachet, and all his motions are robotic, trance-like. He’s in a daze as the boiling water pours into the mug, not even flinching as a stray droplet of the steaming water hits his skin. He absentmindedly mixes two- or was it three? sugars in, adds some creamer, and then miraculously he’s back in his cubicle, staring at the mug of coffee he never drinks, because he’s learnt that after his first day on the job, for the sake of his stomach, he should never ever ever ingest anything his office offers.
It’s six o’clock before he realizes there’s something on his desk that shouldn’t be there: a rogue slip of paper, hidden under a stack of files. It’s stained by a quarter ring of coffee; Niall must have placed his mug on it and not seen it. It’s a few days old, at least, paper crinkled and ink smudged.
There’s an accusation, on the piece of paper: U naver drank yur cofee after yur firs day hear, did u? - Liam
The heat rising to his cheeks is immense, and he can’t help but grin guiltily at the words. Peering closer, he realises there’s something written below it too, and when he finally deciphers what it says, he doesn’t know how many butterflies have exploded in his stomach.
P.S Me tu
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Niall/Liam
Word count: 8,05 words.
Rating: G
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: I own One Direction's beautiful arses and order them (not that they need much coaxing to do so) to have buttsex with each other every night.
Summary: It was a moment he looked forward to, every morning, three point five oh minutes after he got in, maybe probably the only thing that prevented him from quitting this mindless, monotonous hell of a job.
[Read More]
The alarm rang promptly, at oh seven fifteen hours, as it usually did, with the green digits glaring at him from his bedside.
“Fuck,” Niall sighed into his pillow; it was more of a reserved kind of acceptance than anger at the general world, because really; he knew he would never quit his job as an accountant, of all things, at the office- there was one reason solely for this, and one reason only.
It was fucking pathetic.
But Niall didn’t mind; at twenty-three and living in an apartment three blocks down the road from his old home, he believed in something others scoffed at: love. Okay, so maybe it was more of an unrequited crush; it wasn’t love exactly. But Niall did live for those few moments when he’d see him at work, so he undressed from his embarrassing Power Ranger pajamas without further complain, showered and grabbed a prepared tuna sandwich, and set off for work.
-
“You’re late-“
“Nialler, chill. I had to deal with my sisters-“
“Step on the pedal!” Niall shrieked, and Zayn, who carpooled every morning with his best friend from high school, complied.
-
Niall hated being late. He hated, hated, hated being late. For work, horrifically. He didn’t mind being late for other events that didn’t involve him; but work did so he did, in fact, mind being late.
Which was why the second Zayn’s wheels touched the tar of the car park where he worked, Niall jumped out of the car, leaving without an explanation because Zayn already understood, more or less.
He rushed feverishly to the elevator- luckily, it didn’t take more than a few moments to ding! open, and Niall stepped into the 9-by-8 feet space, cheesy elevator music and cheap florescent lights a comforting, familiar routine. When the number 3 rings up on the screen indicating the level it’s on, Niall leaves the little closeted space quickly, partly because he was eager and also maybe because he really couldn’t stand the way the walls seemed to close in on him.
He gets to his little cubicle- a 4-by-4 that luckily somehow seems bigger than the elevator- and after punching in his card, he grabs his coffee mug- a present from Zayn; red in colour with the words “Just close your eyes and enjoy the roller coaster that is life”. Not only it was corny as hell, it was ugly- probably the reason Zayn had given it to him as a birthday present, it was a gag gift.
Niall checks his watch and then his heart stops for a bit, he thinks. It’s nine oh four. He’s late, maybe by a matter of seconds. A stream of profanities appear in his head- fuck cunt ass bitch
And then, miraculously, there’s a hot breath tingling his neck, and words being said in his deep voice.
Liam.
“Waiting for me, were you?” Liam jokes, and Niall swivels around to meet with the taller guy.
His heart now beats frantically, erratically- this is probably the longest conversation they’ve ever shared, if you could call it that. Niall tries to smile, but he’s so fucking distracted- that hair, and those eyes…
“You going to hold up the line?” Someone behind Liam barks, and Niall is shoved back to reality.
Blushing, he tears open the coffee sachet, and all his motions are robotic, trance-like. He’s in a daze as the boiling water pours into the mug, not even flinching as a stray droplet of the steaming water hits his skin. He absentmindedly mixes two- or was it three? sugars in, adds some creamer, and then miraculously he’s back in his cubicle, staring at the mug of coffee he never drinks, because he’s learnt that after his first day on the job, for the sake of his stomach, he should never ever ever ingest anything his office offers.
It’s six o’clock before he realizes there’s something on his desk that shouldn’t be there: a rogue slip of paper, hidden under a stack of files. It’s stained by a quarter ring of coffee; Niall must have placed his mug on it and not seen it. It’s a few days old, at least, paper crinkled and ink smudged.
There’s an accusation, on the piece of paper: U naver drank yur cofee after yur firs day hear, did u? - Liam
The heat rising to his cheeks is immense, and he can’t help but grin guiltily at the words. Peering closer, he realises there’s something written below it too, and when he finally deciphers what it says, he doesn’t know how many butterflies have exploded in his stomach.
P.S Me tu