Liam isn't sure if it's some bizarre extension of their friendship, or some separate fucked up thing that they've started that he doesn't know how to stop. Doesn't know how to want to stop.
Whatever it is, it sometimes causes Niall to lean in and kiss him slowly and deeply, slipping his tongue between Liam's parted lips and exploring the heat and slickness of Liam's mouth, blowing puffs of hot air against Liam's molars as he exhales without breaking away, and making short, high-pitched purring noises as Liam's tongue starts to fight back, and Liam's hand finally tangles in the messy fluff that passes for Niall's hair.
Whatever it is, it sometimes results in Niall on all fours, his hands desperately clutching the sheets, clutching anything as Liam kneels behind him, draped over his back, hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, nails digging into his skin in a way that hurts as much as it arouses, as Liam slams into him over and over again. Niall shudders with every thrust, his body shaking as Liam sheathes himself to the hilt, and then slowly withdraws, before pounding back in again, brushing Niall's prostate and driving him higher and higher.
Whatever it is, it makes Liam wait until Niall is asleep to press soft kisses to his brow, and brush Niall's hair from his face, and just look at him, just look at him until he can't fight off the drowsiness and he falls into slumber, Niall's peaceful countenance emblazoned in relief on the back of his eyelids.
Whatever it is, Liam knows what it's not. It's not a relationship, it's just sex and being friends and not being allowed to feel jealous and it's Niall being married with a beautiful girl called Ellie and it's Liam feeling guilty and more restless, more lost than he's felt in a long time and this time Niall's arms can't save him, because Niall's arms are the root of his difficulties, in that he doesn't ever want to leave them, but Niall doesn't want him to stay.
Whatever it is, it's wrong and they both choose to ignore that fact.
It's not that Niall doesn't love Ellie he does it's just its not in the same way anymore.
he always feels so guilty afterwards, he honestly does. Liam always mumbles into the softness of the skin behind his ear that he's gotta get out, gotta stop, Niall you're hitting bottom rock soon , can't you end things before she gets hurt , and it's bla bla bla through Niall's mind because he's neglected himself enough to not let those things tug on his heart anymore. they kinda do, though.(hurt, hurt, hurt) when he's back at home hugging Ellie and breathing in her sweet perfume, it's like being back but it's not like being back to the first, purest, moment, like it kinda should.
he would let Ellie go if it wasn't for everything; would tell her that he doesn't love her like before and that it's not her fault. He would say goodbye, kiss her cherry cheek, get his things, move to a different part of town. he would be with Liam. it can't happen, though. (not in this universe) Liam's his best mate and they pretend it doesn't happen, pretend it's nothing than just fooling around even when Liam tells Niall he loves him.
Niall is easy going, breathes in the day with a smile and breathes it out at night, letting it go to sleep, die. he doesn't have the constant ringing in his ears or twitching fingers for cigarettes that Liam has, doesn't need everybody even though he loves everybody.
Liam and niall are opposites but they slot together and it feels right, it does, (in another universe), he can't get out.
**
"Honey, I'm home." Niall couldn't resist that call as he kicked the door shut behind him.
"You're such a dork," his wife said, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling at him. Her blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun that meant she just got up; she was wearing one of his old shirts, which was way too big for her, and made her look even smaller than she already was. Her sleep-soft face brightened as he closed the distance between them and kissed her soundly.
"I missed you," he murmured against her lips, sighing gently as her tiny hands closed around his waist.
"I missed you too," she replied, kissing him back.
He hissed as her clever fingers slid under his shirt, scratching lightly over his back. Leaning back he looked at her, seeing the twinkle in her eyes, the sly smile dancing over her face.
"Why, Mrs. Horan, I haven't even properly arrived yet," he teased, pulling her closer.
"Well," she smirked, running a warm hand over his back, "let me welcome you home properly then."
Without another word she hooked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and pulled him into the bedroom, giggling happily. Following her willingly, Niall ignored the faint echo of a much deeper laugh in his head.
Thoughts on the first chapter?
