One Direction Bromance One Shots

Niall and Liam: Sometimes it hurts

They were playing a game, and Liam didn’t like it.

It was fine to like Niall. Everyone liked Niall, there was nothing wrong with that, nothing special about it. He was always that arm on your shoulder or the head in your lap, or the body slipping into your bed at four in the morning – “Louis was snoring, Li!” – or the person to wake you up whenever he got to giggling at nothing.

But sometimes friendly touches lingered a bit too long, or strayed a bit too low, and Liam had to remind himself that this was Niall. Bubbly, enthusiastic, obviously straight, Niall.

And as far as anyone knew, so was Liam. And as far as anyone knew, he was still torn up about his recent breakup, on the terms that “there just wasn’t  a spark anymore”.

And he had never told anyone why.

And Niall would go on being completely oblivious, playing his games. Games where he would purposefully cuddle up to Liam on the tour bus, or give him a platonic swat on the butt on stage, or drag him on early morning trips to the grocery when they ran out of cereal or bread or whatever.

Liam was sick of it.           

He was sick of Niall’s bright eyes, and his smile, and his hair that Liam only ever dared play with on those nights that Niall insisted on sliding into bed with him.

And Niall would always be his usual self, cheery and oblivious.

Blissfully oblivious.

***

“Liam, Li – wait up!”

Liam winced, mentally bracing himself before he turned to greet the Irish boy with a small smile. “Hey there, Niall.”

“You almost left me by myself.” Niall’s voice was muffled by the scarf wrapped around his face, and he pulled it down annoyedly. “Why would you leave?” He was pouting now, and Liam focused on studying an approaching stop sign as they walked.

Because avoiding you is the only thing left.

“Must’ve forgotten, you know I wouldn’t leave you alone, Nialler,” Liam smiled down at the smaller boy, and couldn’t help but feel a fluttering in his chest at the one he got in return.

He literally glows.

They walked in silence for a little while, the quiet interrupted by the hammering of Liam’s heart once Niall took hold of his hand. It was a habit he had taken to, just feeling the need to feel connected to someone, a gesture that everyone else had come to think as meaningless.

It seemed as if every single brighter part of Liam’s day came down to that – a meaningless gesture.

“Sometimes I feel like you do it on purpose,” Niall said softly, and at first the older boy hadn’t realized he was talking, transfixed by the way Niall was swinging their hands back and forth. “Avoid me.”

Liam shook his head, the lie easy on his tongue, “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“But you do.” Niall looked up at Liam, biting his lip.

And Liam almost let himself look at him, look at his soft pink lips. But then he might’ve done something stupid, or said something he wouldn’t ever be able to take back. So Liam didn’t look.

“But you do,” Niall repeated, as if Liam hadn’t heard him. “You talk to everyone else, but now you never talk to me, or offer to play guitar with me, or listen.”

It was the hurt in Niall’s voice that almost broke Liam. Almost made him break down completely and tell him everything. That the only way to keep the hurt away was to avoid Niall altogether.