your whispers are voiceless

Call

Liam shakes his head and kisses him again, his thumb rubbing at the soft skin between his fingers. Niall closes his eyes and lets himself fall. "No, no it's not. It's not okay," Liam says when they pull away, his thumb still moving. His eyes are soft and sad. "It's not fair for you. We're on a relationship and this isn't healthy, all the time we're apart. I mean, the only time we actually talk is through phone at night. You've got to admit, there's something completely sick in that, right?" 

"It's okay. I get it," Niall breathes, his breath probably hot on Liam's lips. "I'll still be here whenever you need me, or whenever you want me." 

"I always want you," Liam fills quickly. "Fuck, you won't even believe how much I barely even concentrate on the field thinking about how we're not even finishing school together. Or even growing old together anymore." 

"But we are." 

He shakes his head and makes Niall think of how much he misses his curls. "No, not really. I'm too busy with football and you're too occupied with the school band. Did you get in, by the way?" 

Niall nods, blushes. "Yeah. Yesterday. I've got the cello." 

"See?" Liam exasperates. "I don't even know what's going on in your life anymore." He frowns. "Shit, we haven't even looked up any universities nearby. Or thought about moving in together. Fuck." 

Niall cracks a smile. When Liam delves into thinking, he thinks hard. Like, brow-furrowed, lip-drawn hard. "Don't worry about that. We have, like, eight months to think it over. Just . . . let's do now." He massages his knee and offers a reassuring smile. 

Liam cranes his neck at him. "I love you, Niall. You know that, right?" 

Niall nods, his heart detaching off its cords and bloating up into his throat. He isn't sure if he'll ever get used to those words. "Yeah."

"And football is, like, seventh on my priorities' list." Liam tangles their fingers again. 

"You have a list?"

Liam nods, smiling stupidly. "Of course. It goes: Niall, Niall, Food, Water, Niall, Family . . ."

Niall laughs, blushing, and looks down at where their fingers are tangled and their knees are pressed together and where their feet are crossed over each other. Liam leans down to kiss him on the cheeks. On his ear. At the top of his head. Breathes him in. "After all this, I promise I'll be a better boyfriend." 

Niall smiles. "Not possible." 

     When they finish and the table is cleared, Liam lays himself down on the table, a palm cupping the back of his head and the other rested on top of his stomach. His knee is bent upwards. Niall sits on the chair beside him, because the table is too slim to let them slot in beside each other. But this is just as good. He gets to run his fingers through Liam's hair, pull at the strands. "So, Sophia invited us to a party at her house." 

He stops his movements, unsure. "Huh?" 

Liam chuckles. "Sophia asked me earlier if we're available on Saturday. To her party. Do you think we should go?" 

"No." Niall answers immediately, even before his tongue could roll back and block his throat. Of course not. There's just too many factors to consider, and too many ways things could go wrong. Besides, the scene earlier, at the bleachers . . . a cold shudder runs down his lungs and spine. 

Liam looks confused and turns to look at him. "Why? I thought . . .?" 

"What?" 

"Well, you know . . . you used to like parties."

Niall snorts, reaching up to twirl a thumb at Liam's elbow. "That was before we began dating. I might get drunk, and I might not be able to stop myself from . . . " He can't believe he's saying this. ". . touching you." 

Liam smirks. "So? Don't stop yourself." 

"Liam. We can get caught. God, the last time your father almost caught us kissing in the basement . . . "

They hadn't known his Dad was coming home early from work. They were shirtless. And, well, they used mosquito bites as an excuse for the 'marks' on the junction of their neck and shoulders and jaws. 

Liam just laughs. "It was too bad, actually. He didn't get to see the magic." 

Niall smiles, because, thinking back, it was kind of funny. Kind of. Minus the part where they accidentally broke the little glass figurine Liam's mom used to polish everyday. Why'd she put it in the basement, anyway? 

He bends down and presses his chin at the back of his his hand that's laid flat on the table. Starts to run his finger on a tangle of Liam's hair. The hair products he uses have washes out in the rain earlier. Probably while they were practicing. "Seriously. I'm not going." 

"Why?" 

"I don't want to get seen," Niall sighs. "People are stupid and impulsive. What if one of them hates people like us? What if they do something really dumb and post a video of us kissing behind the bushes or whatever?" 

Liam actually laughs at this. "You do realize we're going to a gay party, right?" 

Niall frowns and leans back up. "What?" 

"Yeah," he answers, grinning. "Sophia's girlfriend is coming home from the States on Saturday. I have no football practice then. Luckily. Coach decided to give us a break. Said we'd be practicing full-on next week, which is stupid to be honest because, I mean, we've already been doing that for two fucking weeks.  

Anyway. I just thought it would be a nice way for us to spend our time,  you know, without having to hide or be secretive."

Niall feels his insides untangle, like he could breathe again. Move.

No hiding. No withdrawing. Just a night with people who get it. Who get them. "Okay."  

The bell rings and completely dissolves the time they thought they had. Niall's lung deflates as he sighs. It's a full week before Saturday. Liam reaches up to thumb at the corners of Niall's lips, smiling idly. "So we going to kiss or not?"

Niall laughs and leans down to slot their lips together, and the angle is awesome. Like . . . like explosive awesome. Liam moves himself up on his elbows to deepeen the kiss. 

"Call me, yeah?" Liam breathes when they pull away. Almost. There's a millimeter of air separating their lips. 

Niall grins. "Of course."