Imagines with Niall Horan

93. You are best friends

You let your head drop down onto your arms with a groan, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hate homework." You're on your belly on Niall's bed, Niall on the carpet in front of you, the way you've been doing homework since first grade together.

Niall blinks up at you from the floor, smiling softly. "I know you do."

"Why am I so bad at this?"

You can feel Niall shifting closer across the floor. "You're not," he assures you. "You're amazing. You're always amazing."

You laugh humorlessly, nuzzling your face into Niall's comforter. It smells like him, and Niall's smell is comfort. "You're nice. But I'm not. And I really, really hate homework. Actually, I hate French homework most of all. I can't do it!"

Niall pats your hair awkwardly, a strange new habit he's picked up a few months ago. You can't say that you mind, not when it's Niall. "You're really good at French, though. Way better than the rest of us. You sound - all French-like, when you talk."

You snort, turning your face so you can squint at him. "Thanks. I guess. That doesn't really help me complete this written assignment though. My hand is cramping up and it looks like I dipped a spider in ink and let it crawl across the page."

Niall frowns. "I love your handwriting."

"Okay..." You lift your head just enough to see him properly, narrowing your eyes at your best friend. "You're being really weird lately."

"Oh, I -" Niall fidgets, eyes darting around the room. "Really? I don't - I'm not -"

"Are you okay?" You want to know, suddenly concerned. The last time Niall acted this weird was when he'd accidentally lost the umbrella he'd borrowed from you during your trip to the zoo in third grade. You hope this isn't something like that. Even though you're pretty sure all of your umbrellas are stored away safely in your own house across the street.

"I'm fine," Niall almost squeaks, then clears his throat, blinking up at you in that honestly weird way again. "I can get you something to drink. Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea? I can make hot chocolate -"

"Niall," you interrupt. "I know where the kitchen is, I can get my own drink, I've known my way around your kitchen since I started to crawl!"

"Right," Niall says, looking slightly taken aback. "Um, right, yeah."

"Are you really sure that you're okay?" You want to know. You're used to your best friend being a little silly every now and then, but those last few days, or weeks, really, Niall has seriously done his best to redefine the word, making strange comments about your eyes or holding the car door open for you, and last night he'd helped you into your coat, seriously, who even does things like that?

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great," Niall repeats, struggling to sit up on his knees. "I - I'm always okay when you're over."

You frown, sure now that something is definitely off. "Where else would I be?" You ask. "I'm always over. Or you are. We do this every day, Niall. We have been doing this every day for years."

Niall nods, opening and closing his mouth but not speaking, and you watch, bewildered and not quite sure what's going on, as Niall's face gets redder and redder, his ears looking ready to burst into flames. It looks undeniably cute, but still, it's weird.

"Okay," you finally say, sliding off of Niall's bed and kneeling down on the floor next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder in a gesture you hope is reassuring as you duck your head to catch his gaze. "You're being entirely ridiculous and you're going to tell me what's bothering you. Right now. So that I can help. Is it your brother? Has he said something stupid about your college plans again?"

Niall shakes his head, sighs deeply, and doesn't say anything.

You squeeze his shoulder gently, leaning in a little closer. "Niall," you remind him, keeping your voice as soft as possible. "I'm your best friend. You can talk to me. What's wrong?"

Niall huffs out a frustrated breath, deflating a little as he finally tips his chin up, eyes meeting yours, mouth set in a grim line. "I'm trying to flirt with you, okay?"

You snatch your hand back like it's been burned, it's a reflex, one you mentally slap yourself for as soon as you see the flash of hurt crossing Niall's face. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Niall mumbles, hanging his head, body swaying away from you ever so slightly. "I'm - sorry. I guess. It's -"

"No, I'm - no -" You swallow, your heart picking up speed after the initial rush of realization. "That's - you -"

"It's just that I've been trying for so long not to, but then you didn't go on that date with that music store guy, and we always hang out, and I just - I -"

"I didn't know," you breathe, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

"No, I know, I never said -"

"How long?" You interrupt, needing to know, hope and giddiness and wild, unfiltered affection surging up in your chest.

Niall shrugs a little helplessly, grins that adorable grin that's been making your heart flip since - you don't even remember when. "I don't know," he admits. "Feels like - always."

The smile just takes over your face, so wide you can't respond for a moment. "You idiot," is what you finally manage.

"I just -" Niall starts, but you don't even let him finish, just grabs his face with both hands to place a firm, determined kiss to your best friend's lips.

Niall's answering smile when they pull apart is blinding, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "So you don't mind?" he asks.

You roll your eyes at him and kiss him again.