[Narry One Shots]

Kiss my lips until I stop bleeding

In which they're fucked up (and everything is kind of sad, be aware!)



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Kiss my lips until I stop bleeding

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Desperate glances. Desperate touches.
A shuffle of sheets. A shuffle of clothes.
A see you tomorrow. Same time, same place.
The only steady thing in his life.

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Harry's friends think his life is fucked up and he needs to stop fucking with himself, needs to stop fucking Niall.

So, therefore, of course he doesn't.

He needs it.
He needs Niall, because he's the only one whose life is even more fucked up than his own.
He needs Niall as a reminder.

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"I think...", Niall whispers and looks at his naked thighs. "I think..."
"Don't think.", Harry whispers back to him and pulls him down to him onto the bed.

There are soft touches this time, delicate, but in the end they both feel filthy and used.

"I think...", Niall says again afterwards, but doesn't look up. "I think I'm..."
"Shhh...", Harry replies and caresses Niall's face. "Don't."

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At one point, Harry finds himself in his own bathroom, covered in his own puke.
A bottle of alcohol next to him.

He blacks out before he can remember what happened.

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Niall has bags under his eyes and he stopped dying his hair blond.

He doesn't look like an angel anymore.

Even his eyes aren't any longer the same shade of blue.

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"What if one of us dies... what if one of us dies before...", Niall asks hoarsely and arches his back.
Harry likes him like this. Messed up. Looking as messed up as he really is.

"No.", Harry mutters under his heavy breath and slams his hips forward. "No."

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They don't die. Not on the outside.

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Harry knows that Niall's friend tell him to stop this insanity and to be honest, Harry has no idea why Niall is still doing this to himself.

He's glad, though. He's glad, that Niall doesn't stop giving his fucked up self to Harry's fucked up self.

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Harry has kissed every single part of Niall's body besides his lips. He finds himself craving them, but he can't. It is too intimidate and he feels like it's the only thing that could make Niall leave him for good.

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"Why did you stop dyeing your hair?", Harry asks while sitting onto the bed, still fully dressed.
"Oh, just...", Niall shrugs and pulls his shirt over his head. "Doesn't matter."

Because you started dying inwardly, Harry answers his question inside of his head, but he embraces Niall's willing body anyway.

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He's never seen Niall cry.

He's never... he's never...

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He waits until Niall breaks.

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"I think...", Niall whispers, while he tightens his coat around his lithe body. "I think I love you in a very fucked up way."

He doesn't await Harry's answer because he knows that he won't get one.

He leaves.

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He doesn't come back.

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Harry feels hollow and drinks.
More than usually.

He probably should end it all.

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He's too much of a coward to kill himself and of course he is.

Of course he is.

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He wonders what Niall's smile looks like. He wonders where Niall is now. He doesn't call him. He doesn't do anything. His friends try to get him to live again. He can't.

He can't.

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He misses Niall.
Not in the way but in the way that.

His warmth.

His soft eyes.

Not only his body.

Not his body at all.

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He screams.

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He's sick of the sight of alcohol and cigarettes.
He just.
He just wants to...

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"Please", he cries. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please."
Nialls face is stony. Harry is on his knees.
The floor his cold and hard.

"Please, Niall, please."

It's the first time he sees Niall cry and it's nothing he wants to see happening again.

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"May I... may I kiss you?", he asks and cradles Niall's face in his hands gingerly. Niall closes his eyes and nods and Harry thinks he's beautiful. The most beautiful thing.
He leans in and kisses Niall and he wishes that they were younger and that Niall's hair was still blond and Harry's throat less dry and.

It's not enough for him, but enough for now.

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They don't get worse after the kiss.

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Desperate glances. Desperate touches. Desperate lips.

Sometimes even a smile.

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